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welcometothejianghu · 5 months ago

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 沙海/Tomb of the Sea/Sand Sea.

Sand Sea is the 2018 installment of the DMBJ/Lost Tomb franchise, which tells the story of the search for an ancient desert city, a fight against a secretive assassin family, the raiding of more than a couple tombs, and a whole bunch of other action-packed bullshit.

Have you ever watched an anime adaptation that outran the as-yet-incomplete manga it was adapting, necessitating it throw together a largely befuddling ending based on the available clues? That's Sand Sea. At time of production, only ~75% of the Sand Sea novel had been written. As I am making this post, that's still all of the Sand Sea novel that has been written. I finished watching the show and had a lot of questions about its loose ends. I read the book. It didn't help.

So, I'm not going to try and summarize the story, much less try to sell you on the show on the strength of the plot. What I am going to try and do is convince you it's a good time anyway.

As I mentioned earlier, it's part of a larger franchise, but you shouldn't let that stop you from diving in here. Most of the DMBJ shows and books are narrated by Wu Xie, the series' special little birthday boy. Sand Sea takes a different tack -- your main POV characters are completely new to the world of the tombs, meaning that the show explains things to you while it's explaining things to them. Wu Xie's still a major character, but you're seeing him through the eyes of a befuddled teenager who wasn't even supposed to be here today.

I'm going to give you five reasons to watch this series, and all five of them are relationships. I'm pitching it to you this way because, as was the case in my rec for Reunion (one of the other tomb-raiding dramas), I'm assuming you have zero familiarity with DMBJ, which means that any appeals to the larger franchise or its twists and turns will have no impact. Instead, I am here to sell this to you on the strength of character interactions. If you're interested in what the characters are doing, the plot will come.

1. Dudes Rock

The aforementioned teenager narrator is Li Cu, a too-cool-for-school underachiever who lives with his abusive father and has no direction in life. He comes with his two best (and only) friends: earnest pushover Su Wan and neighborhood bully Yang Hao.

They're a trio of problem children who cannot succeed by the metrics of society at large: Li Cu and Yang Hao are both from family circumstances that have hampered their ability to perform academically, while Su Wan, bless his heart, is just not that bright. They do, however, all do well when put in situations that play to their strengths and given appropriate mentorship. (Alas that all of their mentors are terrible people; see point 4.)

They're set up as an intentional next-generation parallel to the Iron Triangle, which is the term DMBJ uses for Wu Xie and his two closest people. Normally, the Iron Triangle would be the core of a DMBJ story -- but since that threesome is broken by Circumstances at the moment, these boys become the substitute triad whose friendship is one of the main bonds holding the narrative together.

They have such teenage boy dynamics, it's great. They're stupid about girls and alcohol and money and homework and all the other things teen boys are stupid about, while also being stupid enough to get themselves entangled in shadowy international conspiracies. Huge parts of the plot are fueled entirely by their dumbass decisions. But they also barely have any competent adult supervision in their lives, so you know, when you're seventeen and basically feral, renting a warehouse so you can beat a bunch of frozen snakes to death actually sounds like a good solution to the problem at the time.

It's not all comedy, though. Li Cu and Yang Hao in particular are deeply traumatized young men even before the story starts, and events of the series make it worse. They're definitely the "feelings are for girls!" type of young men, and they need Su Wan there as their eternally bippy buffer. When he's not, they can get mean.

What's also charming about this trio is that they're all pretty darn straight. In a franchise chock full of (unintentional?) homoeroticism, these three manage to keep their platonic dude dynamics pretty platonic. I mean, I myself come at most things with slash-colored glasses on, and even I'm of the opinon that they're befuddled heterosexuals struggling with how the entire tomb-raiding industry's gay. And even if you assume everyone in this entire show is straight, these boys are still going to get a bunch of real-time lessons in how to love other people, whether they like it or not!

So if you like a Teen Boy Squad of goobers who don't want to admit they're close or have emotions or anything like that, right up until they're all each other have, this may be just the thing for you.

2. The Only Good Het in the Tombs

DMBJ is not known for its high-quality heterosexual romance, to put it mildly. Most of the time, it makes the smart decision to not even try. When it does, you mostly wish it hadn't.

Therefore, you cannot imagine how shocked I was to find myself falling head-over-heels for the incredibly weird canonical love story between horny hot mess Dr. Liang Wan and emotionally constipated 80-year-old virgin and arsonist Zhang Rishan.

Their relationship goes a little something like this: He needs something from her, so he contrives a plan to ask her out. She declares him her boyfriend. He continues the relationship in order to continue getting things from her. She thinks he's hot, so she's fine with that. He warns her that continuing their relationship will involve messing with some very bad members of the Tomb-Raiding Industrial Complex. She's like, again, you're incredibly hot, so that's not a problem. He makes her memorize maps and sends her to a desert. She dresses up like him and pepper-sprays him. And somewhere in the midst of all that, he falls for her and she gets sick of his shit, and they wind up for-real dating as equals.

Part of what's so delightful about their relationship is how awful they are to one another. It'd be bad if that awfulness were one-sided, but man, they each give as good as they get. He's heartless and exploitative, and she's neurotic and insecure. She makes constant demands of him that he's almost too confused by to refuse, and he keeps putting her in situations no sane person should want to be part of. He comes from a cutthroat world of complete bastards, while she wears her heart on her sleeve whether she wants to or not. They're extremely good for one another, because he trusts her competencies and is going to make her demonstrate every one of them, while one of her chief skills is calling him on his bullshit.

It is at this point I need to sing the praises of Liang Wan, hottest of the hot messes. She's one of the principal POV characters for the novel, where she's just as boy-crazy (though for a different boy, because Zhang Rishan's not in this book) and just as far in over her head. The adaptation has absolutely done her character justice. What makes Liang Wan so charming to me is how much she absolutely refuses to let herself be stopped by being completely out of her depth. She doesn't know what the hell is going on most of the time, but fuck it, she's rolling with it. She's just also going to be applying moisturizer and anti-aging serum the entire time, because you know what, sometimes when your whole world is falling apart around you, the one thing you can count on is your skincare routine.

Zhang Rishan is surrounded by people so cool, butter doesn't melt in their mouths. He can be balls-out naked in front of them without batting an eyelash. It is her thirsty disaster charms alone that have set fire to his frozen heart. I love them to bits.

3. Enemies to ... ???

This is Sand Sea's Wu Xie. You're not going to like him at first, because he spends the first several episodes tormenting a teen who only mildly seems to deserve it. What you find out as the show goes on is that Wu Xie is having a bad time -- more than that, he's having a straight-up bad decade. He has taken a lot of psychic damage and decided to cope with it by being absolutely insane. He's a bitch with no sense of self-preservation living in constant gremlin mode. He is no longer under the active supervision of his husbands, and he's going to make that everyone else's problem.

The show chooses to start out by inflicting Wu Xie on a bunch of strangers through an arc that's bizarre, lengthy, and mostly completely unrelated to the larger plot. It does introduce a few elements that will matter, though, and one of them is Su Nan.

When Su Nan appeared as the badass head of a mercenary outfit, I was braced for one (or both) of two things to happen. Thing one, I figured she'd die or otherwise leave the narrative after the first arc, which made me not want to get attached to her, if she wasn't going to stick around. Thing two, I was all but certain the show was going to try and make her Wu Xie's love interest, which made me make such a face, because [see last point].

Neither happens. Su Nan is still around in the final episode, and what she becomes to Wu Xie is much, much more interesting.

They're not friends. They're never friends. They can't be friends, because they absolutely can't trust one another. Except sometimes they have to trust one another, and in return they have to allow themselves to be trustworthy.

In the last relevant chapter or so of the novel, Wu Xie gets his throat cut and shoved off a cliff ... and because the novel isn't finished, we have no idea why that happened or who did it. The drama decides that when he goes over that cliff this time, throat unslit, Su Nan needs to go with him. This means they spend much of the later part of the series depending on one another for survival, getting real vulnerable, sharing trauma, and occasionally fucking one another over anyway, because they are both bad and untrustworthy people.

And they're ... kinda into one another? But because it's not textual, it winds up being great. If the show had tried to write their romance, I would have hated it. Instead, it chooses to leave things fraught and unspecified, with the two of them obviously having a lot of feelings but not even knowing themselves what all those feelings are, much less how to react appropriately to them. That is delicious. Pour that right into my mouth.

I also choose to interpret Su Nan as being transfemme (complimentary), if only because that's the most charitable explanation for her dedication to keeping her tits out and her lipstick game sharp even in wilderness conditions.

4. This Man Should Not Be Trusted With Children

As I mentioned before, all members of the Teen Boy Squad wind up paired with adult men who act as their mentors. Li Cu and Wu Xie are the main duo, since they're the main character of this show and the main character of the entire franchise, respectively. Yang Hao winds up in an even more abusive dynamic with a bitch of a man who takes advantage of Yang Hao's capacity for rage. But precious baby Su Wan is lucky enough to be adopted by, well...

If you read my rec for Reunion, you will recognize him as the guy I called "this giant fucking loser" with all the affection in the world. Hei Xiazi is both the worst and the best, which makes him the perfect man to take care of the tender soul that is Su Wan.

Su Wan's a poor little rich boy who is happy to be bullied by his friends, because it means he has friends! He's a dipshit because he's sheltered by his family wealth, and he's also a dipshit because he'd be a dipshit no matter how much money he had. He needs someone to kick his ass in a way that builds him back up again and helps him make the transition from doormat to functional adult.

The circumstances that bring these two together are so batshit, they're not worth recounting here. Suffice it to say that as one adventure arc ends, Hei Xiazi is tasked with taking Su Wan home. Su Wan expresses interest in whatever Hei Xiazi's whole deal is, and Hei Xiazi responds by offering (in a roundabout way) lessons in what exactly his whole deal is.

Hei Xiazi is a terrible teacher, but he's a perfect teacher for Su Wan, who is the kind of boy who would go find the nearest dictionary if you told him the word "gullible" wasn't there. They're preciously weird at one another. The work so well together because Su Wan believes the best of everything, which leads him to see right past the parts of Hei Xiazi that other people (correctly) find inscrutable and offputting. With Hei Xiazi's questionable guidance, Su Wan finds for the first time in his naive, privileged life a goal for himself that is both achievable and worth the effort.

Later books give evidence that all three of the boys eventually go to work for Hei Xiazi, which I think is great, especially since he is somehow the least toxic and terrible of all the mentor characters. ...Man, though, that bar is low. It's a miracle anyone in DMBJ survives into adulthood.

It's also cute to think about how the boys are no doubt context-appropriately homophobic, because it's so easy to picture their respective reactions to finding out that their strong, terrible male role models are queer. Cue Li Ci and Yang Hao's respective no-homo freakouts, while Su Wan just has a million slightly offensive but ultimately well-meaning questions about how bisexuality works.

And I'm just going to say, if you watched the Untamed and loved Xue Yang? You owe it to yourself to see that actor suddenly become the sweetest little butterscotch muffin ever. ...Yes, if you didn't recognize him earlier, that's Wang Haoxuan, and he turns in an incredible comic performance here. Su Wan is consistently one of the funniest characters onscreen. The bit with the saxaphone kills me dead.

Anyway, unlike the first three relationships I've talked about here, this is one you have to wait a good long while for. Su Wan shows up in the first episode, Hei Xiazi appears about a dozen or so episodes later, but it takes their storylines much longer to cross. It's worth the wait, though, knowing that eventually you'll get to see these two weirdos bounce merrily off one another.

5. Everybody Loves Pangzi

This is the Iron Triangle I mentioned earlier. Obviously there's Wu Xie in the middle. The perfect boy in the hoodie is Xiao Ge, who is at the time of this series slightly stuck in what's basically a giant time-lock safe, so you're only ever going to see him in flashbacks. (Xiao Ge is trapped, so you can't have Xiao Ge.) And then, over there on the left is the man whose nickname translates to "fatty," Wang Pangzi.

Hold on to your butts, because I am now going to wax poetic about how much I love this fictional man.

Pangzi is the best. The best. He's funny. He's kind. He's got terrible taste in men and only slightly less terrible taste in women. He's a gentleman. He's the party shock absorber. He's prone to making things explode. He's impeccably dressed. He's charmingly superstitious. He's not subtle. He's got an excitable little stammer and an atrocious Beijing accent. He's a flexible fat man. He's the most fuckable person onscreen no matter who's onscreen with him.

He's also usually the DMBJ everyman character, except Sand Sea has a ton of everyman characters for a change, so he winds up filling the role of a badass insider instead. His job is basically to hold down the fort while Xiao Ge's indisposed and Wu Xie's off being insane. In the absence of both his beloveds, Pangzi's going to do what needs to be done, and he's going to be incredibly hot while he's doing it.

Usually, DMBJ shows serve up a huge amount of Pangzi and Wu Xie interaction. Sand Sea only puts them in the same room near the very end -- but they're collaborating throughout. In fact, the only way the whole story works is if they're basically so much in each other's back pockets that they can function as a single unit even across great distances. The record will show that I read them as husbands -- but more importantly, they're good friends who understand and trust one another completely. As much as it pains me that they're apart for basically the entire thing, they're never really apart, you know?

However, because Wu Xie is physically elsewhere for so much of the show, Sand Sea provides a unique chance to see Pangzi interacting on his own with other characters. Wu Xie is the special little boy who always takes up all the oxygen in the room -- and of course Pangzi doesn't begrudge him this, because Pangzi loves him. Without Wu Xie around, though, we get to watch all the other relationships Pangzi has cultivated over the years.

One of the best is with Xie Yuchen, a.k.a. Xiao Hua. In other series, we see the two interact, but only in the context of having Wu Xie around. Sand Sea presents us with a little window into what is clearly a longstanding friendship. From the tiny bit we get of their interactions, it's obvious they hang out on a pretty regular basis. They're chilling and having spa dates while their husbands are out there getting sandy and fighting snakes, proving that these two urbanites are absolutely the brains of their respective marriages.

...Hold up a second,

I hear you say,

IS this show actually gay? Because you keep using words like "husbands" and talking like it's intentionally, onscreen, boys-kissing-boys gay.

On the one hand, no.

On the other hand: Is Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid gay? Textually, taking it at face value, and especially considering the context in which it was made, no, it is absolutely not gay, nor was it meant to be gay. But when you step back and realize everything it's doing, you kind of can't avoid the really romantic implications. Maybe Butch and Sundance never smooch, maybe they don't even want to, but they're each other's other halves. We would instantly recognize what they are if one of them were a lady. In a narrative setting where gayness is unthinkable, nothing they can do can be gay, which loops around to making everything kinda gay, and ... look, I'm just saying, if Pangzi were a woman, we'd know immediately what she is to Wu Xie (and holy fuck she would be so hot). If Xiao Hua were as female as the opera characters he plays, we'd have no questions about her relationship to Hei Xiazi. Keep everything beat for beat, line for line the same, and there'd be no missing it.

This is something you get a lot with stories about men written by men, this unintentional homoeroticism from male authors who don't realize their misogyny has actually poisoned them against heterosexuality. Remember what I said earlier about DMBJ's regrettable het? So much of it stems from the assumption that getting a girl and a boy together will inevitably to romantic feelings from at least one of them, so there's no reason to bother spending time giving either of the participants any actual reasons to like one another. (Sand Sea does this too! Just with a character I haven't mentioned here, because I'm trying to talk about the good dynamics.) This kind of thinking treats women not as people, but as as basically interchangeable desirable objects. But men are people, which means the male characters' feelings are worth discussing in the narrative! So what you get is these well-developed, intimate relationships between men described in loving detail, sat right next to perfunctory heterosexual couplings -- and we're supposed to believe that one is romantic and one is not based solely on the genders of the participants? Yeah, no, I call bullshit.

And -- if you'll permit me to loop back to the boys for a minute -- we now have a model for how a straight Iron Triangle would behave, and it is not the way the actual Iron Triangle members are about one another. Those teens love one another in a way that is fierce and strong and not what Wu Xie, Pangzi, and Xiao Ge have going. Maybe it could become that, but it's not now. It's not better or worse now for being what it is, but it is different, and it makes by contrast some things very clear (and very queer).

So that is why I feel justified in referring to them as husbands and will continue to do so despite the lack of explicit textual support.

Anyway, back to Pangzi!

Where were we? Right, Xiuxiu!

Pangzi's always at his best when he gets to be a knight for someone he cares about. This time around, that's Huo Xiuxiu, who who only shows up after you've met several of her matriarchal family's other members, all of whom would be at home in a Tank Full Of Dangerous Ladies. Xiuxiu is not a fighter like they are, but she does have an object that means everyone's out to get her, and as such she relies on her Pangzi to keep her safe while she's trying to survive the fucked-up games her family is playing.

And Pangzi clearly loves it. He absolutely thrives on being the big brother/bruiser figure for her. He loves how cool it makes him look to her. He doesn't have Wu Xie around to be a tank for, so he's going to tank for her. In fact, he's even going to bring in reinforcements to help him do it. (What's the deal with the cute Tibetan boy? Look, shh, just appreciate that you've got a cute Tibetan boy.)

Then there's his dealings with the rest of the Tomb-Raiding Industrial Complex, who are a bunch of shady dudes with impressive family pedigrees and expensive suits, all of whom are trying to play twelve-dimensional chess with one another. There's going to be lots of names dropped, of families and of individuals, and the show is going to act like you're supposed to be impressed. And if you're familiar with DMBJ canon, yeah, you could be impressed! Or you could be like Pangzhi, who rolls up in his amazing Holstein shirt, not giving a single fuck what any of these rich bastards think about him.

This is actually some character development for Pangzi, who has in the past been cowed (pun unintended) by the wealthy, mostly due to his own financial situation. That stage of his life is over now. Honey badger has ceased to care. The cool, pretty people are going to try and give him shit, and he is impervious to it. You better believe the Iron Triangle trashed this fancy restaurant the last time they were in here, and if you give Pangzi half the chance, he'll fucking do it again.

No wonder Zhang Rishan likes him. A pair of little firestarters.

Don't let me oversell you on how much Pangzi is in Sand Sea, because he's not. There's maybe a dozen of the 52 episodes that have any Pangzi content, and he's only in small parts of those episodes. Pangzi is a rare and precious event, like an eclipse. Cherish the Pangzi moments and all the wonderful interactions contained within.

caveat: You call that an ending?

Buddy, if you'd seen how most other DMBJ series end, you wouldn't be asking me that. But because I'm assuming you haven't: Yes, I call that an ending, because it actually attempts to do a winddown and conclusion, instead of just wandering off on a cliffhanger. The ending isn't wholly satisfying, but it is an ending. There is a narrative, and that narrative concludes. Does the conclusion make sense and tie up all the loose ends? Absolutely not! But it does follow basic story structure and resolve the action semi-competently.

As I said about the sweet disaster that is Psych Hunter (which was also directed by the guy who did Sand Sea!), I think knowing in advance that an ending sucks makes the ending suck less. It removes the disappointment factor and lets you enjoy what is there, instead of making you grumpy about what isn't. No, you're never going to understand a lot of things. That means whatever you want to be true can be true. The book is unfinished. The series is nonsense. Canon has no hold on you. You are free.

As compensation, here's a picture of Xiao Ge without his shirt on.

Are you feeling like it's Tomb Time?

There are a couple places you can get this one! Try Viki, WeTV, this YouTube playlist (which is missing the first episode for some reason), or this YouTube playlist (which has the whole thing). Note that subtitles vary in quality from place to place. The YouTube versions also have the bizarre, amazing in-character commercials, and it's up to you if that's a plus or a minus for your viewing experience.

I love this bonkers show. It is balls-to-the-wall weird, to a point that will make you question the translation. I got to the part where Zhang Rishan explains that ancient people worshipped fish with snakes in their eyebrows, caught the fish, took out the snakes, and implanted the snakes in their own human eyebrows -- and I thought, surely that's not what he's actually saying. Nope! The subtitles are accurate. It's the show that's off its rocker.

Anyway, once you've watched Sand Sea, scroll down to the bottom of my rec post for Reunion and find out how you can get even deeper into said tombs! Trust me, there's a lot down here.

As those other posts would indicate, this would not be my first choice for how to get into DMBJ. It is, however, how a fair number of people have gotten into DMBJ, so what the hell do I know! Or maybe this post has convinced you that Sand Sea is worth watching, but you'd rather build up to it than go into it raw. That works too! Whenever you get to it, it'll be here: under a bunch of sand, tattooed and inexplicable, and extremely gay whether it knows it or not.

Go to the desert, they said. Find Gutongjing, they said. Solve the mystery, they said. Fuck it, we nap.

#sand sea #sha hai #tomb of the sea #沙海 #dmbj #rec post #i made this

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callmefitz · 4 years ago

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fine. fine I did it. luca fic where massimo is trying to be a good parent for his teenage fish son. yes its the painfully awkward i know you’re gay talk. i wrote this at 2 am while projecting so this isn’t shakespeare, just a vibe. set sometime 3-4 years after the film but i think it’s implied enough.

—————————————————-

Alberto ran up the stairs, threw open the door, dropped his hat on the table and hastily washed his hands at the sink.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said breathlessly, wiping his hands on the front of his shirt, “I got caught up in, uh, well-“

“Showing off?” Massimo offered, turning from his workstation in the kitchen. Alberto laughed nervously and nodded- then paused- and shook his head while looking away.

“Well, I prefer the term ‘sharing with the community’” Alberto offered, before pulling out a large pot and placing it on the stove.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Massimo returned to the cutting the fish, “It’s a nice bike.”

It was a nice bike. Nice enough that the kids in Portorossa frequently begged Alberto to let them sit on it or ride it around the plaza. And who was he to say no? It was the coolest thing he had ever set his eyes on, let alone owned. Of course he let them use it. Alberto had been saving up his tip money from fish delivery all winter to buy it: a shiny, brand-new, red-hot Vesta. Just like the one Erocle used to parade around town on. Giulia and Luca were going to be so excited.

Alberto began pouring cups of water into the pot as he raised the heat, waiting for it to hit a soft boil. “So how much time do we have?”

Massimo glanced out the window facing the countryside, where the distance etchings of train tracks were visible, “About an hour. Luca’s parents will meet us at the station. Then, dinner.”

“An hour. Right. We can work with that,” Alberto said, mainly to himself, as Massimo continued with his fish. They both fell into a steady rhythm, as they stirred and simmered an outrageous amount of food.

While his hands were lost in repetition, Alberto’s mind wandered to Luca. Massimo liked to joke about how Luca never truly left, with all the letters and phone calls sent, but Alberto couldn’t disagree more. Words couldn’t capture the way Luca would say things, like how he yelled when he was excited and talk quickly when he was nervous. And sure, Alberto could read between the lines, and infer things, like how scrunched up words meant Luca was happy or excited and messy letters and wonky lines meant he was tired, but it wasn’t the real thing. And phone calls, while better, were fewer and far inbetween, and couldn’t capture the way Luca would move when talking, whether it was the way he walked or gestured, or the faces he would make and the way he would touch your shoulder or grab your arm to make a point. So no- Luca had truly left, and while Alberto had seen glimpses and pieces throughout the months, he preferred the whole Luca he got during the summer.

One hour. One hour and Alberto wouldn’t have to rely just on letters and voices. It would be just them again, like it was every summer, whether it be sleeping under the stars in Giulia’s hideout, or swimming out to the island to watch the sunsets, or spending afternoons filling up on gelato and playing futbol on the hot pavement. Giulia would be there too, and the trio would finally be complete. Just like how it was that first summer, and just how it was now.

Had Alberto mentioned he was excited?

“The pasta is boiling over,” Massimo provided helpfully, and Alberto was thrust back into reality.

He swore under his breath, moving the pot to another eye and turning the stove off. He sighed and grabbed for a towel to wipe the sides of the pot. Turning his back to Massimo, he began searching for a strainer, but was interrupted.

“Alberto.” Massimo put his knife down and turned slightly. His face was drawn so that his eyes peeked out from under his eyebrows and bore down to Alberto (no matter how tall Alberto got, Massimo was always, well, massive).

“There is something we need to talk about before the train comes in.”

And there it was. Or, rather, there it wasn’t, because those words never came out of Massimo’s mouth. Maybe it was because, despite everything between them, Massimo just wasn’t a big feelings guy. He was a man of few words who would rather hand-paint signs, mend hats, and hand-make pasta than say “I love you.” Not that Alberto cared much, about that, he couldn’t complain honestly, but the point was that Massimo never “had talks”. If something was serious to discuss in private, it was always “Alberto, a word”. Because Massimo was a man of few words. So it was understandable, then, that that string of words elicited panic in Alberto. Because never in a million years, not even when Massimo first asked Alberto to stay with him, did they ever have something they needed to talk about.

Good thing Alberto was good at handling panic. He was basically an expert.

“Yeah, like what?”

He held his elbow out to lean against the counter in a calm manner, but missed and instead landed on the red hot stove eye. All while maintaining a smirk-turned-grimace. Yep. Expert.

That was going to hurt later. A lot.

Massimo looked at Alberto, searching for something in his face, and, upon finding it, sighed, and turned to the window where the train-tracks were. Absentmindedly, he turned the faucet of the sink on, and letting it cool for a moment, held a rag under it. Once it was wet enough, he handed it to Alberto.

“Luca is a... good kid, no?” Massimo led after a moment of contemplation. Alberto took the rag, but his face scrunched up in confusion as he held it to his elbow. Faintly, he felt the familiar tingle of flesh-turning scale as the coolness took the edge from the burn. But the beginnings of a frown was settling on Alberto as he followed Massimo’s gaze to the train tracks.

“Yeah?”

Massimo nodded. “He is very smart. He writes often. He knows fish... but not as well as you do.”

Alberto inched closer to Massimo, “Yeah, he’s pretty cool. One of my best friends but... I think you know that.”

“He is a very good friend,” Massimo said, but something felt strange about the way he said it, “Handsome, too.”

Alberto’s body froze and his face heated up. Before he could say anything contradictory, however, Massimo continued.

“I know the way you two look at each other. Young love. It’s a good thing, especially when it’s between friends who have known each other for so long.” Massimo said slowly, “And if you ever want to take Luca out for some gelato on your Vespa... then I will be very happy for you, Beto. He’s a good kid. Good for you.”

Alberto wasn’t going to lie. He had thought about it, once or twice. In his head it always played out so incredibly natural, that a part of him assumed it would eventually happen. Giulia would be busy, either delivering fish or volunteering for the cup, and he and Luca would be on their own for the day. Maybe they bike to the top of Portorosso, or maybe they went out to the island or climbed a roof to watch the stars. Sometimes it would be just them having dinner together, and something would give- one of them would brush hands with the other, lean in just a little too close and stay there... then... well, it would be just like it to was. But more. And selfishly, maybe if they were more, Luca wouldn’t leave at the end of the season.

But Alberto couldn’t think like that. Luca loved school more than anything. Well, almost anything. He would never want to take that from him.

But Massimo was right. Luca was handsome. Summers in Portorosso had been kind to him, and they’ve both put on some healthy weight and muscle over the years. Even if they hadn’t been friends, Alberto had no doubt he would have been fond of Luca regardless.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon,” Albert said candidly. “But... Thanks. For that. I guess.”

Massimo shrugged. “You’d be surprised. Giulia tells me a lot.��

Impossible scenarios ran through Alberto’s head. The wheels were spinning so fast that smoke was practically spewing from his ears.

“Like what?”

Massimo glanced out the window again, “I guess he’ll just have to tell you when he gets here.”

#please don’t bully me for doesn’t know how to insert read below crimes #Luca #Luca (2021)#alberto scorfano #luca paguro #massimo marcovaldo #giulia marcovaldo #Luca fic #Massimo just wants to support Alberto but doesn’t know how to #so he leads with Luca’s a good kid right #meanwhile luca probably spills all his feelings to Giulia #and while she isn’t a snitch she had a very open relationship with her dad and has probably been like #help my two best friends like each other and I’m in the middle #also he wants Alberto to know he loves him no matter what and will be happy for him as long as whoever he dates treats him well #Massimo: how do I let Alberto know I approve of Luca #Massimo: he knows fish.

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missgeniality · 4 years ago

Text

A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this! This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy!

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods.

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning.

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold.

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity.

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully.

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.”

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?”

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation.

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?”

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious.

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well.

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight?

BTS is on your flight?

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography.

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger.

BTS who?

Biggest boyband who?

You only listen to Frank Sinatra.

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally.

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours.

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help.

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved.

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could.

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back.

Aw, you are in trouble.

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face.

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true.

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth.

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you.

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you.

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to.

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all.

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile.

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously.

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean.

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.”

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..”

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in.

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb.

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.”

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told.

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep.

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began.

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you.

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you.

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you.

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family.

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen.

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request.

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement.

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.”

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck.

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart.

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him.

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon.

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.”

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence.

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car.

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you.

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that.

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of.

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far.

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode.

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma.

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this.

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong.

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do.

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall.

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!"

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!”

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor.

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so.

But you’re not anyone else.

He isn’t just anyone.

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two.

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours.

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century.

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind.

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours.

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation.

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end.

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark.

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.”

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible.

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken.

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him.

The elevator door opens, and people walk out.

But that’s not where your attention is.

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm.

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad.

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present.

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.”

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile.

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too.

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space.

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!”

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed.

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again.

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.”

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”.

The punctuation was not vocalized.

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself.

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there?

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna.

So far, no sign of him.

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far.

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode.

And then you hear it.

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but.

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck.

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight.

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight.

“Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement.

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is.

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart.

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.”

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first.

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own.

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes. “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.”

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter.

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?”

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight.

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger.

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware.

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer.

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue.

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch.

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates.

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?”

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air.

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative.

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?”

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress.

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured.

“On your knees.” he commands.

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.”

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on.

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm.

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head.

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise.

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly.

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him.

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.”

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over.

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench.

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening.

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod.

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum.

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you.

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him.

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss.

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair.

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt.

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room.

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom.

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you.

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention.

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought.

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret.

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch.

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth.

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way.

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face.

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs.

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem.

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-”

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him.

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason.

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard.

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him.

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making.

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls.

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat.

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it.

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response.

“Go on baby, ride me.”

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better.

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!”

“That’s fucking right, only me.”

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away.

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve.

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full.

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high.

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face.

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!”

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.”

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way.

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole.

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs.

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core.

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours.

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.”

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon.

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart.

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.”

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness.

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy.

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance.

He finds none.

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go.

You inch closer.

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his.

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win.

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words.

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst.

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it.

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows. You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him.

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far.

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up.

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement.

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

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sequinsmile-x · 3 years ago

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Sway

My insomnia is hitting hard and I’ve been awake since 2.30am.

Here’s a little thing I wrote for @sweetsecretskeptinside because she deserves all the good things, and she loves GirlDad! Aaron even more than I do.

Words: 800

Warnings: none. Just hella fluffy

Read below the cut!

Emily can’t help but sigh as she enters the house, feeling drawn out and exhausted by a long day full of meetings. It had been one of those days where she almost wished for a case so she could escape them. Now she was home she was grateful it hadn’t happened, an evening alone with her husband a rare thing, something precious.

Aaron was home alone. Jack away with his maternal grandparents, the teenager endlessly excited about the vacation, and their little girl at her first sleepover. Aaron had text her a photo, already Emily’s new wallpaper, earlier as he dropped her off to her friends. The 6 year old had a wide smile on her face and her hair in two perfect braids that Emily just knows their daughter had strong armed Aaron into doing for her.

As Emily takes off her coat she hears sound coming from the living room. Gentle music and the tv filtering out into the rest of the house. She follows it, seeking out her husband like she always had. She wasn’t sure what she was excepting, but what she sees stops her in her tracks.

He was dancing. His arms out as if he had a partner with him, his concentration on the tv. He had a YouTube video on, a woman giving basic instructions on the movement she was demonstrating.

Emily cannot help the smile that breaks out over her face, leaning against the doorway as she covers her mouth to keep the joy in. Worried it would spill out of her if she didn’t try and cage it. She watches him for a few more seconds before she can no longer help herself, words escaping before she can stop them.

“What are you doing?”

He stops instantly, frozen like she’s caught him watching porn. He pauses the tv, the video he’d been watching grinding to a halt as quickly as he had, the soft music he’d also been playing still going.

“Em, love, I didn’t realise you were home.”

“Clearly.” She deadpans, unable to stop the smirk on her face even if she’d wanted to. She walks further into the living room, stopping right in front of him, amusement shining out of her every pore. “What were you doing?”

“Practising.” He says simply, as if it answered her question.

“For what?” She asks, her eyes drifting back to the tv, the dancing tutorial he had been watching replaced by the screensaver. Pictures of their family flashing up on the screen, precious memories captured and on display.

“The father-daughter dance.”

Aaron says it with such embarrassment it takes her a moment to fully register what he’s said, her mind searching for something he should be ashamed of, something that matches the tone of his voice. When it clicks all the delight she had found in teasing him disappeared, instantly replaced by a flood of love for him and her chest tightens with it, filling her lungs with affection until she feels like she can’t breathe.

“You can dance.” She says simply, not able to put everything she felt for him into words, knowing her smile and the sudden shine to her eyes did it for her. “We danced at JJ’s wedding. And at ours.”

“I stood on your feet at ours.” He deadpans, his hands coming to rest on his hips.

“You were nervous.” She immediately defends, unable to stop her smile. “Come on then Hotchner.” She puts her hand out expectantly and raises her eyebrow at him when he just stares at her. “I’ll dance with you, I’ll happily be your practice for your dance with another woman.”

He rolls his eyes at her but smiles, moving his hands from his hips to her, one finding her lower back and the other the hand she held out for him.

“That other woman is our 6 year old daughter, sweetheart.” He quips, pressing his lips to her temple as they start to sway. “I can’t believe how fast she’s growing up.”

She feels her breath catch in her throat, the thought of their little girl getting older affecting her as it always did. Memories of her as a scrawny newborn, tiny in Aaron’s arms, always bringing tears to Emily’s eyes.

“Shut it.” She replies, closing her eyes and tucking herself closer to his chest. “She’s going to be little forever.”

Aaron chuckles and kisses the top of her head. “Of course she is sweetheart.”

They continue to dance in their living room to the soft music he had chosen, backlit by the pictures of their family on the tv screen. Flickers of memories that they would forever cherish.

#hotchniss #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfiction #girl dad Aaron #fluff #family fluff #insomnia hours my friends #going to be a long day

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gaemkyuu · 4 years ago

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Mommy, Can We Keep Him? (Charlie Gillespie x Original Character

Warnings: mention of teenage pregnancy A/N: I was inspired to write a character like Lilo from Lilo and Stitch and thought of what if Charlie had a daughter like that? Then I thought about Dad! Charlie.... Here is my inspired writing piece! Let me know if you want a follow up wedding piece! Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

Mommy, Can We Keep Him? (Charlie Gillespie x Original Character)

Riley King started working for Netflix when she was 18 and impressed everyone at the head office with her hard work and dedication. With her motivation and work ethic, she managed to climb her way to be part of the executive management team all at the ripe age of 21. People often asked Riley how she climbed the ladder so quickly, or what was the secret to her success. No one ever guessed that her motivation came from a little girl who looked exactly like her.

Emerson Gianna King was born on August 31st of 2014 when Riley was 16 years old. She had quite the wild nature to herself, always sneaking out and illegally partying with her friends. It was only a matter of time that she would be blinded by love and give her virginity to a boy she swore would get married. He was 17 at the time and she was head over heels for him. One drink too many and a poor judgement call resulted in Riley’s teenage pregnancy.

Her one true love broke up with her a week after they had had sex, stating that his dad had had gotten a job at a law firm in Miami and that a long distance relationship wouldn’t work. She didn’t know that she was pregnant at the time, but when she did, she tried to reach out to him. His family thought it was stupid attempt at getting back together and claimed that the baby wasn’t his. They were ready to launch a full lawsuit in order to protect their family’s reputation, something that Riley and her single mom couldn’t afford to do. So they dropped it, signing legal papers that they would never contact them again and that their son wasn’t responsible for paying any child support.

This heartbreak and her daughter made Riley clean up her act and graduate high school a year ahead of her friends. She quickly started working for various companies, taking night classes at the local college campus in hopes to get her foot in the door for a bigger company and work her way up. Which is exactly what she did and how she ended up working for Netflix. That’s how she met Kenny Ortega, who introduced her to the actors of Julie and the Phantoms. She mostly worked with Netflix, but she was assigned to be there every day of boot camp to watch and monitor the development of the TV show, making projections about how their viewers would receive the new show. She didn’t anticipate to be a part of the small family that was created behind the scene with the cast and crew, and she certainly didn’t anticipate falling for one of the lead actors Charlie Gillespie.

They had been dating for three months before Riley told him about Emmerson. She had expected that he call off the entire relationship, understanding that not everyone wanted to be with someone who had a baby at sixteen. They were 22 at the time and Riley explained that she was looking to be in a serious relationship for her daughter’s sake. While Charlie couldn’t promise that this relationship would go in the direction they both wanted, he did promise that he would do his best to be there for her. He didn’t know that winning over the little girl’s heart would prove to be difficult.

Emerson wasn’t like all the other kids. For one thing, she was very mature for her age. She was potty trained at two years old and started to learn how to read basic books at the age of 4. She developed her speech quickly and often looked to use specific words that kids her age rarely heard or understand. She was a perceptive little girl and sometimes she was a little too smart and observant for her own good. This made it difficult for her to make friends at daycare because everyone thought she was weird. Riley would often catch her talking to Lilo whenever she put Lilo and Stitch on for her to watch. She would tell Lilo about the frustrating girls at her daycare and how they too “need to be punished”.

So it was no surprise to her that when Emerson first met Charlie, she would be grilling him. Charlie had expected her to be a cute little girl that likes to play with dolls. Instead, he was met with a perceptive toddler that made him question his own intelligence at times. She was very standoffish when she met him, afraid that this man was going to hurt her mommy, but over time Emerson began to open up and trust Charlie. One night, when they were six months into dating, they had to cancel their dinner plans as Riley’s babysitter came down with a flu and no one else could babysit. Therefore, their dinner plans were changed to ordering pizza and having a movie night with Emerson. Riley groaned partly through the beginning of Lilo and Stitch when her work called, excusing herself as it was an important phone call.

This left Emerson and Charlie alone for the first time.

“Charlie, who’s Elvis Presley?” Charlie’s eyes grew big like teacup saucers.

“Your mom hasn’t shown you who Elvis Presley is?! How many times have you watched this movie?!” Emerson shrugged, not taking her eyes off the screen, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth and chewing.

“Do you want the real answer?” he was caught off guard at the frankness in her tone, starting to wonder just how many times she had watched the film. He shrugged it off and paused the movie, pulling his phone out and opening Youtube to educate the child on the legend, Elvis Presley.

When Riley returned to the living room, she was shocked to see Emerson sitting in Charlie’s lap, holding the phone, staring intently at the screen and listening to the music that played out of the speaker. She had never seen her daughter so focused before. She looked at Charlie who was equally focused on the screen of the phone as well, and she smiled to herself enjoying the view. Out of defense, Riley quickly shrugged off the creeping thought that this could be her family. After all, her and Charlie had only been dating for 6 months.

“How have you not shown her who Elvis Presley is?” he exclaimed, noticing her presence. Emerson looked at her with questioning eyes as well, feeling slightly betrayed that her mother withheld such precious information away from her.

“I’m not really a big music person! I kinda just listen to songs I like rather than musicians” she shrugged sheepishly.

“Mommy, Charlie said there’s a documentary on Netflix about Elvis Presley. Can we watch that instead of Lilo and Stitch?” Riley’s jaw dropped at the fact that her daughter was more interested in watching something other than her favorite comfort Disney movie. She silently nodded and changed the settings on the TV, starting the Elvis Presley documentary. This was the first time her daughter ever really opened up to someone and found something in common.

Emerson absolutely loved the documentary and would go on for weeks listening to Elvis Presley nonstop. After Riley waved goodbye to Charlie and closed the door, Emerson sat patiently on the entryway bench for her mother.

“Mommy, can we keep him?”

“Yeah, Emmy. I think we can”

***

It soon became a regular thing to have Charlie stay the night at Riley’s house. He woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, but on his way back to the bedroom he heard soft whimpers and sniffles coming from Emerson’s bedroom. He stood outside her door, debating if he should go get Riley or if he should go in himself. He knew Riley was exhausted having had a full day of work and meetings, so he opted to let her sleep and peek into Emerson’s room. He thought that if it was out of his control, he could always go and get her. The sight of the little girl broke his heart.

Emerson was fast asleep, but she was trembling and clutching onto her stuffed bunny for dear life. She whimpered and tears fell from her closed eyes. Charlie quietly moved to her side and sat on her bed, softly rubbing her back, whispering her name to break her out of her nightmare. It worked, but when she woke up, she jumped into Charlie’s arms and softly cried. He was surprised at first, but quickly snapped out of it hugging the girl and rubbing her back.

“It’s okay Emmy... It was just a bad dream... It wasn’t real... you’re okay... you’re safe” the little girl started to calm down as Charlie soothed her and rocked her side to side a bit.

“They took me away from mommy...” she whimpered and nid her face in Charlie’s neck. He felt the collar of his shirt dampen as she cried, but he picked her up and moved to the armchair she had in her room. He sat down and held her tightly in his arms.

“No one is ever going to take you away from mommy, okay? I won’t let that happen” he didn’t know where these words were coming from or where he got the confidence to say them, but in that moment he knew that he would do whatever he could for Emerson.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” he whispered, kissing her head and rubbing her back. She settled comfortably in his chest and took deep breaths. Charlie instinctively started to hum a song softly as he rubbed her back, until her breathing steadied and soft snores came from the small figure. Charlie smiled to himself that he was able to handle the situation alone, but he realized he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to put her back in bed, or if he had to hold her for the rest of the night. Not wanting to wake her up, he carefully reached for the knitted quilt beside the armchair and draped it over them. Guess he was sleeping in the armchair that night. His neck would hate him in the morning.

Riley woke up early that morning when she rolled over to cuddle the missing Charlie. She bolted up and threw on her housecoat to search for him, but stopped when she noticed Emerson’s door cracked open. The sight inside the bedroom brought tears to her eyes and she covered her mouth to avoid making any sound that would wake them. There was Charlie sleeping in the armchair holding a sleeping Emerson in his arms. They were both fast asleep and quietly snoring.

For the first time, in their nine months of dating, Riley let herself see the possibility of Charlie being the man who could be Emerson’s dad.

***

Charlie fiddled with his collar nervously, holding flowers in the other hand. He took a deep breath and shook off his nerves before pressing on the door bell. He waited patiently and anxiously outside, only to be greeted by his beautiful girlfriend, Riley. She smiled brightly at him and he stood there blown away by her beauty. They were both dressed up semi-formally tonight as Charlie insisted on taking Riley out for a fancy dinner to recreate a cheesy romcom movie date for their anniversary. Their usual dates consisted of hiking or lounging at the beach, so Charlie figured it would be nice to dress up for once, especially since Riley rarely dressed fancy.

“Hey! Come on in, I’m just finishing up debriefing the babysitter” Charlie kissed her cheek quickly and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him as she rushed back to the kitchen. Charlie waited by the front door patiently for her to finish up.

“Where are you taking mommy tonight, Charlie?” he jumped at the voice from behind, turning around to see Emerson sitting on the entryway bench. She looked up at the man who waited for her mom, bunny beside her in one hand and her blanket in the other. Charlie smiled at her presence and squatted down to her level, petting her bunny on the head.

“I’m taking mommy on a fancy dinner. You off to bed?” she nodded and opened her arms, to which Charlie gladly received her hug, only, he didn’t expect her to awkwardly latch herself on to him. Thinking quickly, he adjusted himself and picked her up. She was short and thin, so it was no problem carrying her. Her small stature always made her mother worry that she wasn’t getting enough nutrients. “I guess I couldn’t let you sleep without some snuggles could I?” she nodded as she laid her head on his chest, something her and Charlie had in common was that their love language was physical touch.

“It’s nice to see mommy in something other than jeans or sweats. I like your bowtie too” Emerson fiddled with said bow tie as Charlie gently rocked her. He was always so surprised at how observant she was and how she was able to clearly articulate her thoughts for being six years old. She was very bright and quick to understand situations, which made it hard for her to make friends at daycare. Another thing that Riley worried about often.

“You want me to tuck you in Emmy?” she shook her head against his chest and wiggled, signifying that she was okay with being put down. Charlie obeyed her wish and set her down on the floor, sitting on the entryway bench like she once did. “You’re looking a little sleepy squirt” he chuckled, clearing the hair from her face.

“Mommy said the babysitter and I get to watch a movie of my choice before bed time since it’s Friday. I wanted to watch Big Daddy but mommy said the babysitter might question her parenting choices” he let out a big laugh and Emerson giggled back.

“Having fun you two?” Riley appeared in the entryway with the babysitter. Riley crouched down and opened her arms wide to hug Emerson. The little girl jumped into her mom’s arms, nearly knocking her to the floor. “Love you Emmy. Please listen to the babysitter and go to bed on time” Riley knew she wouldn’t put up a fuss, but she figured she would remind her anyways.

“Love you mommy” she smiled as she kissed her mom’s cheek and walked to Charlie. “Love you Charlie” she tiptoed so that she could reach the man’s cheek, who also gave her a big hug. “Don’t be out too late!” she called skipping into the living room, the babysitter following after. The couple stood in the entryway thinking about Emerson’s last remarks before disappearing.

“Ready to go, my love?” Charlie cleared his throat, opening the door and gesturing for Riley to go first. She playfully rolled her eyes and they stepped out of the house towards the vehicle. Emerson waved at them from the front window, and they waved back, until she couldn’t see them any more.

***

“Remind me again what time you fly in?” Riley wiped some of the water that splashed on her face as she washed the dishes. Like all mothers, she was multitasking. Cleaning the house for Emerson’s birthday and trying to figure out her schedule considering Charlie was flying in from Canada. Emerson sat at the kitchen table quietly coloring while her mother was on the phone.

“Don’t worry about picking me up. You already have so much to do! I’ll just get an uber to your place” Riley toweled off her hands and took Charlie off speaker phone, holding the phone to her ear. Despite dating for a year and a half, they hadn’t officially moved in together. Charlie still had his place with all of his things, but half of his stuff was at Riley’s. “Plus I don’t want Emmy catching on to my surprise for her.”

“Right. Okay, well I’ll keep the door unlocked, since we’re home all day. I gotta go though, I still have to call the bakery to set up a pick up time for her cake and cupcakes” the couple said their quick ‘I love yous’ while Emerson shouted hers from the kitchen. Riley took a moment to herself and sighed against the wall in the corridor. Between everything at work and Emerson’s birthday, she had quite a lot on her plate but she was relieved that Charlie was able to come home a little earlier to help her out. She straightened her spine and returned to the kitchen, kissing her daughter’s head. “Emmy, mommy has to jump on to a zoom meeting in the office, are you okay to color for 30 more minutes?”

“Mommy, when can I go on a date with Charlie?” her mother froze mid movement around the kitchen, the question catching her off guard. “I know we go on dates together, but you always look like you have way more fun when it’s just you and Charlie. I wanna have fun with Charlie too” she smiled at her daughter and sat down beside her.

“Well, why not ask Charlie on a date? You can make him a little card before he gets in tonight and while I do my meeting.” her eyes lit up at the suggestion and she quickly got to work, making her mother smile. Riley got up and headed to her office, not wanting to disturb the project her daughter had started.

Riley’s meeting lasted an hour, much to her displeasure, but it was a productive one. It worked out for Emerson as she had made an elaborate card to give Charlie when he came home that night. Riley helped her daughter take a bath and ordered Sugarfish for dinner, both of them anticipating the arrival of their favorite guy. As soon as Emerson heard the door creak open, she bolted for the entryway and jumped into Charlie’s awaiting arms. He peppered her face with kisses and tickled her until Riley came along, who he kissed deeply and earned a “yuck!” from Emerson. Their dinner arrived soon after Charlie’s arrival and they all sat around the dinner table, Emerson lost in Charlie’s stories of his hometown.

“Emmy, don’t you have something for Charlie?” she perked up remembering and clumsily got out of her chair, putting her chopsticks down to run to the office. She grabbed her card for Charlie and skipped back to the dining room, placing the card beside his bento box.

“Oh? What’s this Emmy? Can I open it?” she nodded her head enthusiastically and sat back in her place at the table. Charlie’s smile wavered as he read the card, feeling slightly emotional. On the front was a picture of the three of them and inside the card read:

Dear Charlie,

Will u go on a date with me?

Love, Emmy

Hearts, flowers and smiley faces decorated the inside of the card, but the text was written in big bold letters. He could tell a lot of effort went into making the card judging by all the neatly placed stickers and carefully drawn pictures and patterns. It still amazed him that for a six year old, turning seven, that she could write so neatly.

“Mommy helped me with some of the spelling, but I mostly did it myself” she smiled, anticipating his response. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful Emmy. I would love to go on a date with you” she clapped her hands and bounced in her seat, her reaction causing everyone at the table to smile and laugh. They continued to eat their dinner while planning things that they could do together, as Riley sat there watching and admiring the relationship that was unfolding before her eyes. How did she get so fortunate to find a man like Charlie?

***

Charlie ended up taking Emerson to Disneyland and even though Riley accompanied them, Charlie and her went on all the rides together. Riley took pictures and held onto their things as the two enjoyed themselves around the theme park. Charlie knew it would be a good thing to have Riley around because she was the voice of reason when Emerson and Charlie thought of having their third Dole Whip of the day. The two of them laughed and had the time of their lives. When supper time came, Riley planned to meet a client over super at downtown Disney, planning on meeting her boyfriend and daughter later on in the evening. This left the two of them to have dinner with Goofy at Goofy’s Kitchen.

As they enjoyed each other’s company and visits from Goofy, Charlie helped Emerson pick out her dinner and order it. Charlie could honestly say this was the most fun that he had had in a long time, but he should’ve known that with Emerson’s intelligence, there was more to this date than just having fun.

“Charlie, when are you going to ask mommy to marry you?” Charlie choked on his water, not expecting the question from the curious little girl. “Mommy said I wasn’t allowed to ask you because it was rude”

“Not rude at all Emmy, but why are you asking me that?” he was genuinely curious, thinking that maybe Riley had been venting to her subconsciously again, or that Emerson overheard a conversation with one of her friends.

“I heard Aunty Savannah teasing her the other day over the phone and mommy got really red in the face. I think you should ask her, I know she’d say yes” Charlie’s eyes grew wide as Emerson nonchalantly recounted the conversation her mother had the other day. Emerson continued to color in the coloring book Charlie bought her earlier.

“Do you want me to ask mommy to marry me?” Emerson nodded her head as soon as the question came out of his mouth. “How come?” the question was meant to be playful, but Emerson’s reply was serious.

“Because I want to be able to call you daddy.”

Charlie felt a lump in his throat.

“I’ve never had a daddy. It’s always been mommy and me. If you marry mommy, then you can be my daddy.” she paused to take a sip of her juice. “I think you’d make a great daddy”.

Charlie wiped away a tear that threatened to fall from his eyes and cleared his throat, feeling emotional. He took a sip from his water and took a deep breath. “You think so, Emmy?”

She nodded her head, continuing to color in her book. “Plus Justina at daycare said that in order for me to have a little brother or a little sister, you have to have a daddy AND a mommy.” Charlie chuckled at the little girl, and got up to kiss her on the head, hugging her too.

“Got any ideas on how I should ask Mommy to marry me?” Emerson forgot about her coloring in that moment as her eyes sparkled with excitement over Charlie’s question.

“Well...I have a couple ideas...”

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagines #imagine #fanfiction

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firstofficerwiggles · 4 years ago

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Chapter 5: How the Paintball Battle Was Won

Links to Chpt. 4 , Chpt. 6

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Canonical violence, PTSD for the reader, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: ~6400

Author’s note: So this chapter gets more angsty, but I promise it is sandwiched in there between some humor and some serious fluff along with some Domestic!Din thrown in there for good measure. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter! (Also, smut is coming in the next chapter for those of you who are thirsty for it.)

“Paintball?” You look up at Mando in surprise, “Isn’t this a game for teenagers?” He’s brought you to a dusty town on Baros with a few hole-in-the-wall cantinas and a sleepy looking marketplace in the middle of nowhere to play paintball?

“I wasn’t sure if it would still be here, but they’re open,” Mando sounds chipper. “I haven’t been here in years.”

“You used to come here and play paintball?” The idea seems ludicrous, that Mando, a seasoned warrior and top bounty hunter, would be playing a game that requires shooting brightly colored balls of paint at your opponents.

“When I was younger and first in the Fighting Corps, we trained here on Baros for a time. We used to sneak out when we had breaks between training sessions to come and play with the local kids.” Mando’s voice sounds nostalgic and happy as he remembers his youth. “I’m sure now that our commanders knew what we were up to, but it gave us additional fighting practice, so I don’t think they minded.”

You try to imagine Mando as a teen boy stealing away with his friends from a probably rigid training schedule to play fake war games with other kids. It’s a charming thought, but it’s hard to picture when you look at the man now. But he’s right, it would have been decent training too… oh, now you understand.

“This is so I can practice shooting live, moving targets.” You’re on to his plan.

“What?” Mando is all innocence, “I just thought since we’re here, we ought to have some fun.”

“I know you think I can’t tell, but I feel you smirking at me under there.” You tell him pointing towards the helmet.

Mando simply chuckles at you and gives your hand a tug towards the entrance.

“What about the baby?” You ask, hoping to stall a little, “He can’t play paintball.”

“He’ll be safe in his pram, and you’ll have a chance to practice protecting him too.” Mando replies. He’s clearly thought this out.

“That might be too advanced for me to focus on shooting targets and guarding the child,” you tell him.

“Yes, but I’ll be here to help you.” His voice sounds warm as he tells you, “You’re going to be great, c’mon.”

The owner of the paintball place seems delighted to see Mando and tells the rest of the patrons in the prep area that they are in for a real treat today. Most of the other people here are teenaged boys, but you’re surprised to see a couple of adults here too including a few other women. Perhaps you were too quick to judge. The teen boys are in sheer awe of Mando and after they openly gawk at him for a few minutes, they’re pestering the owner to find out if they can request that Mando be on their team.

“Teams will be by random draw as always, although people paying together will automatically be put on the same team unless they request otherwise.” The owner tells everyone waiting. “Now, please enter the locker area to suit up and stow away personal belongings.”

You’ve been given protective gear and a helmet to wear to ensure your safety during the game. While the paintballs aren’t lethal, they can still hurt quite a lot without protection. Mando watches as you gear up, and when you’re done you can’t help but goof around and strike a model pose.

“How do I look?” You can still manage to make flirty eyes at him, as although your helmet covers most of your face, the visor only has light tinting so your eyes are still quite visible.

“You’re adorable,” he tells you. It’s been a little over a week since your trip to Canto Bight and your first Keldabe kiss with Mando, and he’s been growing more affectionate with you, particularly with compliments. He’s still rather shy about physical affection though, almost as if he thinks he’s limited to only a certain number of touches a day.

“Ok, everyone, let’s go over the rules.” The owner calls everyone to his attention and reviews the rules of the game, which are basically, if you get shot three times in a ‘critical target area’ as indicated on your protective gear, you are out of the game.

“Today’s game is your basic brawl. The last team with the most players remaining when the buzzer sounds will be the winners. However, we have a special guest and special rules that will add to the challenge!” The man gestures towards Mando, “If you want to take out the Mandalorian, you need three hits somewhere not on the armor, and good luck with that!” The man says it in such a way that he’s confident no one will be able to get Mando out of the game.

Before the game begins, you check on the child to make sure he’ll be ok. He has his favorite silver ball and a couple other toys with him in his pram, and you’ve tucked in few snacks that he likes in case he gets hungry.

“Ok, sweetie, you’re going to play with your toys and keep the pram closed until Mando or I open it,” you tell him. He coos at you in response and you give his nose a little boop before securing the pram.

“Here, put this on,” Mando hands you a metal wrist cuff with various buttons, “It’s linked to the pram like my vambraces, so that way the child will follow you wherever you go.” He quickly shows you how the buttons operate.

You and Mando get assigned to the red team and are issued paintball guns filled with the appropriate colored balls. There are three teen boys, a man, and another woman on your team. The teen boys are vibrating with excitement at being on Mando’s team; they keep calling him ‘sir’ and asking for ‘battle advice’. Mando is very kind to them, and answers all of their questions in a serious manner. It’s quite sweet really, how nice he is to them, but you’ve noticed that’s generally who he is, so long as that person cannot be perceived as a threat. With your team agreeing on Mando’s plans for the battle, followed by a loud war cry whoop from the boys, you head out to your designated starting positions.

Your adrenaline is pumping and when a loud bell rings out to indicate the start of the game, you’re almost as keyed up as the teenagers around you. Mando’s plan calls for your team to be on the defensive and wait for the other teams to come to you, allowing you all to maintain better positions and hold on to better cover for as long as possible. It’s a good plan and fairly soon, some of the teen boys from the green team have charged over to your area recklessly, making them easier targets. You get off a couple shots, but your nerves get the best of you and you miss wildly. Fortunately, only Mando seems to notice as your other teammates are on target and dispatch the boys without anyone on your team getting hit.

“It’s alright, just breathe,” he tells you, “Remember you’re a good shot, I know you are.” He places a hand between your shoulders and rubs lightly to help calm you down. He points towards something moving in the bushes to your right and taps your shoulder. You can see another player advancing towards your position.

“Aim your weapon, take a deep breath,” Mando instructs you, “and shoot.” You pull the trigger and watch as your paintball splatters bright red on the other player’s chest plate. You remember quickly that you need two more shots to eliminate your target and so you shoot again. It ends up taking you five more shots but in the end, you’re victorious.

“I actually did it!” you squeal a little in delight and Mando gives your waist a small squeeze.

“Great job, cyar’ika!”

Hmm, there’s that foreign word again. It’s the second time he’s said it to you, and you think it must be Mando’a but you haven’t thought to ask him about it yet. You’re about to say something when a yellow paintball suddenly bursts on Mando’s left pauldron. You instantly whip your head around and fire off shots in the direction of the shooter. A sudden fierceness overtakes you in your determination to take out the player. You channel all your focus into your aim and once again, you are successful, only faster this time.

“That was even better,” Mando tells you, and your heart soars at his praise. He hasn’t even bothered to take a shot yet, he just seems content to watch you.

The game continues and it seems that the other players have caught on to your team’s plan, which leads to a break in the action. Everyone huddles together for a moment, and you realize the rest of your team are waiting for Mando’s instructions.

“So, Mando, what do we do next?” you ask him.

“What do you think our strategy should be?” he counters.

“Well, it seems like we’ve taken out quite a lot of the green team, so I say we head towards the yellow team’s area and try to lower their numbers more.” You figure this is the best way to ensure that your team will have the most active players in the end.

“Why don’t we finish off the green team first? You know, get them while they’re weak,” one of the other players suggests.

“No, her plan makes the best sense,” Mando says in support of your idea, “If we want to be the winners, we have to make sure the yellow team has more casualties.” There’s something about the way he says this that gives you a sense of pride. He’s not just going along with your suggestion because he likes you, it’s because he trusts your judgement and he agrees with it.

You set out in an attack formation as directed by Mando in search of the yellow team. He’s stationed you towards the rear of the group allowing the child’s floating pram to stay behind you, meanwhile he’s positioned himself at the front as an attractive target. You don’t love the idea of Mando making himself the bait, but you recognize that his strategy is logical as the challenge of taking out the Mandalorian will be too tempting for the others to pass up on and thus it should be easier for the rest of you to hit them.

The plan works perfectly and as a barrage of paintballs are launched in Mando’s direction, your team begins methodically targeting the yellow team. You try not to watch as more yellow paint splashes onto Mando’s beskar, because each time it does you feel a spike of irrational anger, how dare they shoot at your Mando. As for himself, Mando is finally shooting off paintballs of his own, but you get the impression that he’s doing so rather leisurely, like he’s not really putting in too much effort. Must be taking it easy on everyone.

Things seems quiet for a moment and you turn to check on the little guy’s pram. It’s still closed up and he’s safe and sound. You’re just turning back to look over your shoulder when a green paintball hits you in the side, right where there’s no padding. It’s surprisingly painful and you double-over, grasping at your side. Mando’s reaction is swift. He quickly dispatches the green shooter and then rushes over to you.

“Are you hurt? Do you need help?” His voice is full of concern.

“I’m fine,” you wheeze out, “just stings.”

“Take a moment and breathe,” he says as he tucks his left arm around you to hold you close to him while he proceeds to keep shooting with his right. It suddenly strikes you as incredibly attractive how he’s managing to comfort you and still fight at the same time.

You can’t keep yourself from telling him, “Maker, you’re hot.”

“What?” He looks down at you for a second, a little surprised.

“Nothing, I’m just impressed by you.” You laugh a little and pull away so you can go back to the game.

The game continues for a while longer and you’re astounded by how much you’ve gotten into it. You no longer feel nervous about shooting at other people and you’re caught up in wanting to help your team win. You get hit a couple more times, but luckily they manage to miss the critical targets so when the buzzer sounds, you’ve managed to be one of the ‘survivors’. You run over to Mando to assess his ‘damage’ and while he has yellow and green paint splotches all over his beskar, he has only one green spot on his arm in the unarmored section near his elbow, which means that no one managed to successfully remove him from the game either. After a brief count, your team is announced as the victors by just one player. Your whole team cheers and exchanges high fives as you congratulate each other.

“See, I told you it would be fun,” Mando leans down close to you, “You were great, I was impressed too.” He brings his helmet down to touch the crown of yours.

You don’t have a chance to say anything back as the teen boys are at Mando’s side begging him to take a holophoto with them. Mando dutifully poses with the boys as you help out by acting as the photographer. You pull out your own holopad and snap a few holos too for your own enjoyment later.

You return to the locker room to get cleaned up and back into your regular clothes. You’re securing your holster belt with its real blaster when you realize again how thankful you are that Mando’s gone out of his way to help you learn so much about fighting, even to the point where he found a way to make sure it would be enjoyable.

You head over to where he’s cleaning the paint off his armor with a bucket of water and some rags. It must be a bit hard to do though because there’s no mirror to help him see all the areas that need to be cleaned. You pick up one of the rags.

“Have a seat and I’ll help you get cleaned up,” you say as you motion to a bench.

“Thanks, it’s hard to do without being able to take it off,” he tells you.

He sits with his legs akimbo and you step between them to get better access to the beskar. Fortunately, the paint washes off without much effort, but there’s so much of it and you want to be sure to get it out of the small ridges and furrows of the armor.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you tell him as you clean, “It really was fun and I think you’re right, it was good training.”

“You’re welcome,” Mando says warmly, and he brings his hands up to your hips to pull you in a little closer. He leaves his hands there as you move to clean his helmet and begins tracing little patterns with his thumbs. His touch is simple, but it makes you feel so fluttery inside. You look down at his visor and give him a little smile as you wipe a streak of gloopy green paint from the crown of his helmet.

“It drives me crazy when you look at me like that,” he tells you with his hands tightening on your hips.

“How am I looking at you?” Your smile widens.

“Like you have a secret and you’re daring me to find out what it is,” he says, his voice sounding deeper.

You chuckle, and as you finish cleaning his helmet you drop your lips down and give it a kiss, “Is that so?” you ask in a coquettish tone and you give him a wink.

Mando groans at you and pulls you in closer, “I’ve had enough being in public, let’s get back to the Crest,” he says. His words and the timbre of his voice fill you with dark excitement, and you nod your head in response.

You bid goodbye to your teammates and hurry out into the street, heading in the direction of the ship. You’re only a short distance from the Razor Crest when you hear a laser bolt whiz past you. You draw your blaster and turn towards the source of the bolt where you see five armed men bearing down on you, Mando, and the child. “Hunters!” Mando shouts to you as he returns fire.

Another blast comes from behind you and you whip around to see three more shooters trying to box you in. Like Mando, you shoot back, your fight mode coming out in full force. You manage to shoot one of the hunters in the chest and you see him fall. You don’t dwell on it though as you scan the area for a possible escape route. You feel Mando tug on your sleeve as he gestures to the left where you can see a small side street. You rush towards the street as fast as you can while Mando provides cover. You’re still wearing the wrist cuff from before so the baby’s pram is following after you. You feel a sharp burning sensation in your side and it almost knocks you to the ground, but your determination to get away is stronger and you push your legs to keep you running.

The narrow street spills out into a broader avenue that is now bustling with activity. You bump into people as you try to get away and it makes you stumble. You look around wildly for help but everyone seems oblivious to your distress. The baby’s pram is still right with you and you’re relieved to see it’s still closed up tightly. But where is Mando? You thought he was right behind you but now you don’t see him anywhere. You turn back to the narrow side street when you see one of the hunters come barreling out of it. He fires several bolts in your direction, one of which ricochets off the pram. People scream and scatter. A primal protectiveness surges within you as all you can think about is how you won’t let this man hurt your child and so you raise your blaster and shoot him twice in the chest. He falls to the ground, but something in you won’t let you stop. You keep moving toward him until you’re standing over him and then you shoot him in the head to make sure he can’t hurt either of you. You should probably feel guilty about killing him, but you don’t. You look down the street, worried that you’ll see another hunter heading your direction, but it seems quiet. You pant as you try to catch your breath and now you realize just how badly your side is hurting, you think it must be from before where the paintball hit you but when you look down you see your shirt is soaked with blood. You sag against a building as you realize you’ve been shot. A woman sees you and hurries over to help,

“We have to get you to a doctor right away,” she’s saying.

“Wait, I need Man-, I need to find Man- Mando.” The pain is making it hard to speak.

“It’s alright, your child’s pram is right here.” She doesn’t understand.

You sway on your feet and she quickly places an arm around you to help you walk. “Don’t try to talk, dear,” she’s telling you as she drags you towards a medical clinic. Everything is getting blurry and you fight to stay upright. When you make it inside the clinic, someone immediately pushes you towards a gurney and you collapse on it just before you black out.

Din is desperate to find you and the child. When he sent you down that side street, he succeeded in taking down most of the hunters. But one particularly large man, a Clawdite, had managed to tackle Din. That allowed another hunter to slip by and head down the street in pursuit of you. After stabbing the Clawdite, Din quickly trails the other man. His head is filled with worse case scenarios but when he finds the body at the end of the street, a sense of relief comes over him. It’s short-lived, however, when he realizes neither you nor the child are anywhere to be seen. Din can feel true fear rising in him that perhaps there were others and maybe you were both captured, when he remembers the wrist cuff he gave you and the tracking device he installed within it. He breathes a sigh of relief again when he pings your signal and realizes you’re nearby.

Din tracks your signal to the medical center, the sight of which makes his blood run cold because if you’re here that means that one of you must be hurt. He rushes inside but before he can ask anyone about you or the baby, he hears a frightened scream and then your voice shouting,

“NO! NO! Get away from me! NO!”

Din is back in full combat mode as he hurries towards the sound of your terrified voice. He finds you in a room with a round floating medical droid trying to administer an injection. You are curled up on the floor in a corner of the room with your hands over your face as you cry out in fear. Din shoves the droid out of the room forcefully before carefully approaching your huddled form.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, it’s me, it’s Mando,” he says as he tentatively reaches out to you. “The droid is gone, and I’m here.”

You sob something that sounds like ‘Mando’ and launch yourself into his arms. You’re still crying hard when you get out the word, ��baby’. Din looks around the room and thankfully he sees the child’s pram. He manages to reach the open button on his vambrace and the pram’s dome opens up to reveal the little one safe inside. The baby looks concerned at your distress and he lets out a sad-sounding coo.

“He’s alright, cyar’ika, the baby is safe, you did so wonderful protecting him.” Din holds you and runs a hand over your back, and he continues to whisper soothing words trying to calm you. A noise at the door causes him to look up and see two nurses there who are trying to figure out what all the commotion is.

“Sir, who are you and why is this patient out of her bed?” one of the nurses asks indigently.

“She’s terrified of that droid, you can’t let it near her again,” Din says, scooping you up in his arms and helping you back to the bed.

“Alright,” the other nurse says in a kinder tone, “but you can’t be back here unless you’re family.”

“I’m her husband,” Din snaps, knowing they won’t argue with that, “Now can someone tell me what happened?” His voice is demanding and rough.

“I’m sorry, sir, your wife was shot in the side,” the kinder nurse explains, “She’s lucky because the bolt missed her vital organs but she will need some time to heal. The droid was only going to give her a bacta shot.”

“She’s scared of that droid,” Din repeats, “Can’t one of you give it to her?” His tone of voice makes it clear that it’s a demand not a request.

“Maybe she’s just scared of the shot,” the indigent nurse says, a slight scoff to her tone.

“The shot is fine, just please not the droid,” you manage to say in a weak voice. You look at Din as you explain, “The Empire used medical droids for torture.”

Din remembers how you told him you were punished by the Imps when they discovered your sabotage, but you’ve never gone into details about that punishment. He has some idea now what they must have done to you, and why seeing another droid like that would cause such a negative response.

“No more droids are to come into this room,” Din instructs the nurses.

“Of course, sir, I’ll give her the shot myself,” the kinder nurse tells him, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Din turns back to you and reaches up to smooth the tears from your cheeks. “It’s going to be okay, I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you.”

“Will you please stay with me?” you ask and you grip his hand tightly as if he might disappear.

“Nothing could make me leave you,” he says as he caresses your face.

A soft whine floats over to Din and you from the pram as the little one wants to know what’s happening. Din steps away from your side to quickly pick him up and bring him over to the bed with you. At first Din tries to just hold him close to you, but the child isn’t satisfied with that. Instead, he quickly climbs out of Din’s arms and onto the bed to nestle up against your chest, he then reaches up to touch your face with his little hand.

“Hi, buddy,” you say softly, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Din watches the two of you as a vast sense of gratitude washes over him; he’s so very thankful that you both are safe now and no lasting damage has been done. He holds your hand again and brings his helmet down to your head allowing him to watch over you and the child as close as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, you are doing much better after the bacta shot has done its work and the medical center releases you to go home. Din swipes a hoverchair and quickly steers you back to the Razor Crest; he insisted that you shouldn’t walk all the way back to the ship. Once on board again, he gets you safely tucked into your bed still with the child cuddled up against your side. The little guy refuses to leave you alone and even demanded to ride in your lap on the way back to the ship instead of returning to his pram.

With the three of you safely in space, Din returns to the hull. He’s pleased to see you’re resting comfortably as you talk softly to the child and he sets about to prepare some dinner for the three of you. It’s been hours since any of you have eaten and he’s sure you must be hungry. Din’s not as good a cook as you are, but he tries to add the little touches that you do for him like cutting up the fruit and arranging it on a plate, and adding honey to your tea the way that you like. When he brings your dinner over to you, he notices that the child has managed to use his powers to bring several of his stuffed toys over to your bed and he seems to be arranging them around you for additional snuggling.

“You’re doing a great job as a caregiver, buddy,” Din tells him chuckling.

“I keep telling him he’s being so sweet sharing his plushies with me,” you respond with a soft chuckle of your own.

Din helps you sit up, before handing you the dinner tray.

“Do you need help eating?” He asks concerned.

“Nah, I’m fine, Mando,” you tell him, “Really I feel much better; I don’t think I need to be in bed anymore.”

“You’re staying in bed for the rest of the day, and probably tomorrow too,” Din replies pointing his finger at you the way he does when he disciplines the child sometimes.

“Yes, Nurse Mando,” you reply cheekily.

“That’s right. Now eat your dinner before I feed you myself,” he says with a nod of his head.

After you’ve eaten, you’re still sitting up in bed and now you’re playing a little with the child and his plush toys as you tell him a story. Din can hear in your voice though that you’re tired and even though he knows you are doing better, you need your rest.

“Ok, kiddo, I think that’s the end of story time.” He comes over and picks up the child despite his little whines of protest.

“It’s alright,” you say softly.

“No, you need to get more rest,” Din tells you, “Besides, it’s time to get this guy cleaned up before he goes to bed.”

You can hear the sounds of water running in the fresher and Mando saying “Don’t look at me like that, she needs to rest so she can get better,” and it makes you smile. Both of your guys are being so sweet as they take care of you. You stretch back out against your pillows and close your eyes, and before you know it, you’ve drifted off to sleep.

When you awaken a while later, you see Mando sitting on a crate near your bed reading something on his holopad. He’s taken off his armor and is now more relaxed in his undershirt, trousers, and helmet only.

“Mando, is everything alright, what are you doing?” You’re surprised he’s not in bed himself or up in the cockpit where he’d be more comfortable.

“I didn’t want to leave you alone in case you needed something,” he tells you.

“That’s very sweet, Mando, but you must be getting tired,” you say.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he replies. You know he can go for long stretches without sleeping, but it’s really not necessary now. Maybe there is a way you can get him to rest at least.

“You could come lie down with me,” you suggest and give him a small smile.

“There’s nothing I’d like better, but you’re hurt and you need to rest,” he says, but it’s clear from his tone that he’s tempted by your offer.

“I won’t do anything more than just cuddle with you, I promise,” you counter, and you give him the flirtatious look that you know he likes. It works like a charm and although he lets out one of his long-suffering sighs, he’s standing up and moving towards the bed.

“Alright, we’re just going to cuddle and you are going to rest and try not to move too much.” Mando may be trying to sound stern, but there’s an eagerness to his movements that gives away how much he wants to join you in the bed.

He lies down next to you on his back and puts his arm around you pulling you close to his side. You shift your position so that you can place your head on his chest and rest your hand on his stomach lightly. This way you can lie on your good side and take any pressure off the side that needs to heal. As you settle into him, Mando lets out a sound of contentment making his chest vibrate beneath you.

“Thank you, this is nice,” you tell him, “Plus, you’re so warm and cozy.”

He chuckles at that and rubs his large palm across your back, “It’s getting to where I can’t say no to you.”

“I see no problem with that,” you reply and you give his chest a kiss through his shirt.

“Mmm, I bet you don’t.” His chest rumbles again pleasantly against your cheek.

“Mando, I didn’t get a chance to really thank you earlier, but I want you to know you really helped me back at the med center.” You hope he understands how important he was for you in that moment.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, I could see how terrified you were and I knew you needed me.” Mando says softly and pulls you tighter to him. He pauses and then asks you, “When you said you were punished by the Imperials, did they… torture you with the droid?”

“Yes,” you tell him in a flat voice, “It would give various shots to induce different types of pain. It was horrible. Seeing that droid today felt like being back there, back in that terrible place. I- I don’t want to talk about it too much.”

“I understand,” Mando tells you, “I hate droids… well, there was one once who wasn’t so bad, but mostly I hate them.” His voice is gruff as he tells you this.

“Why do you hate them?” you ask.

“My home was destroyed by droids,” he says, “Everything was gone, my town, my friends, my parents, all killed.”

“Oh, Mando, how awful,” Your heart breaks for him, “That’s devastating. I’m so sorry for you.”

“I was only a child, and I would have been killed too if not for the Mandalorians who rescued me,” he explains.

“You were a foundling too,” you say softly.

“Yes,” he replies.

You’re quiet for a bit as you stroke his chest in a soothing manner. You know he’s supposed to be comforting you, but you want Mando to know that you’re here for him too. He brings his other hand up to cover yours. You realize that his glove is off and for the first time you are touching his bare skin. Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation and you revel in each tiny movement that he makes as he slowly explores your fingers with his. His hand is large and warm, and you marvel at how delicate and gentle he is as he touches you.

“You skin is so soft, cyar’ika,” he murmurs to you.

“Thank you,” you say softly, but then you can’t help but ask, “What does that word mean, cyar’ika?” He’s called you that a few times now and your burning curiosity can’t wait any longer.

Mando chuckles lightly, “Aren’t you the code-breaker? What do you think it means?”

“Oh, I see, a linguistic challenge, hmm?” You’re willing to play along and you take a moment to think.

“Well, you’ve used it in place of my name, so it could be a nickname, but based on context, I’d say it’s a term of endearment.” You lift your head up to look at him as you propose your theory.

“What do you mean?” He questions, intrigued.

“Well, if it were a nickname, I think you’d use it more frequently, and by my count you’ve only said it four times, which makes me think it must be more special than just a nickname. Plus I know you’ve said my name more often than that.”

“Oh?” He sounds amused.

“Yes, and when you said it was important too,” you explain, “Twice you said it when I was very distressed and you were sure to use a calming tone, but then, the other two times were when you gave me a compliment, and those times, you had a more romantic tone.”

He’s laughing openly now and shaking the whole bed as he does. Oh no, you’ve nerded him into hysterics, “Sorry, am I being too analytical?” you ask him sheepishly.

“No, no, I love how logical you’re being, cyar’ika,” he emphasizes the word again and his voice is caring as he tells you, “I’m impressed and entertained by how you think. I had no idea how much thought you’d put into it.”

“Well, am I correct though?” You’re still dying to know.

“Yes, you are,” he says between chuckles, and you smile up at him in response. He calms down a bit and then tells you, “It means sweetheart.” His voice is deeper as he says the word in Basic and you feel your stomach flutter in delight.

“I like that, Mando, I like it a lot; it’s such a beautiful word,” You wish you had a term of endearment for him that would sound even half as beautiful.

“Din,” he says to you.

“What?” you reply confused.

“My name is Din, Din Djarin,” he introduces himself to you, “I’d really like for you to call me by my real name.”

“It’s an honor to know you, Din Djarin,” you reply in as warm and loving a tone as you can, trying to show him how much it means to you that he’s sharing something so personal.

“The honor is all mine, cyar’ika,” he tells you and he squeezes your hand to punctuate his words, “You mean so much to me, I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

“I feel the same about you, Din.” Lying in his arms, it’s easy to tell him how you feel, and you realize how much you want him to hear it. “I was so worried when we were separated today, but when you found me, and I knew you were there, it just felt right, like I knew everything would be all right.”

Din pulls you in closer, hugging you as tight as he can without hurting you. He feels your arm snake around his waist to hold him tighter too and he feels a sense of true serenity. It’s a new emotion for him or at least one he hasn’t felt since he was very young. The two of you stay like that for a long time and as he listens to your breathing, he thinks perhaps you’ve fallen asleep. He relaxes his hold on you and thinks that maybe he should try to slip out of the bed so that you’ll rest properly, when he feels you stir.

“Din, will you teach me more Mando’a?” you ask, your voice sounding dreamy.

“Yes, but not tonight, you need to sleep,” he says softly but firmly.

“Ok, good,” you reply with a small yawn.

You settle back in to the bed a little and pull up the blankets around you more. Din starts to pull away from you little by little, but you’re having none of it and you grip him tighter.

“Are you trying to leave?” you ask, sounding only a little pouty, “Don’t you want to stay and cuddle?”

He sighs, “You need your rest, and I’m distracting you from that.”

“I’ll rest better with you here,” you insist.

“I’ll stay if you promise to go to sleep now,” he replies.

“Ok, I’ll go to sleep.” You’re quiet for a few seconds, but then you whisper to him, “Din?”

“Yes?”

“Goodnight,” you whisper, “I hope you sleep well.”

“Cyar’ika?”

“Yes?”

“Stop talking.”

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

Thank you so much for reading! Continue to Chpt. 6 Where no Mando Has Gone Before. If you’d like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

By the way, do you all remember that droid from a New Hope that gave Leia the shot? That’s the one I was thinking of when I came up with how the reader was punished by the Empire. That thing gave me nightmares for weeks when I was a child.

Tag list: @overtly-cuteashell @grogusmum @imabeautifulbutterfly @wellofeternalthirst @idreamofboobear @theamuz @fangirlalexia @callmekane @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @theravenreads @nicotinebirds @boomtownboy @nova646 @wandering-storm-lost-shadow @becks-things @sleepwithacommunist @mackycat11 @som3thingcr3ative @punkdalek @pinkninja200 @s-unflowxr @ladyjenny19 @peppywitch @haley7242

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic

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shotofire · 4 years ago

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hello ! how are you ? i liked so much the oneshot modern levi, that was so cute>\\\<, i would like another oneshot modern levi, when their girlfriend prank him with the challenge "call your man the wrong name" ( i think his reaction will be hilarious 😂) thank you admin-chan we love ya 💜

Oh my gosh hi friend! Your requests have brightened my day so thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoyed it because it was lots of fun to write. Honestly I love you more anon :) <3

•MODERN!LEVI x F!READER

•Warnings: cursing

•Season: not set within the show

!Not Proof Read!

You weren’t big on trends and neither was Levi. Both of you didn’t have any kinds of social media, it kind of brought both of you down mentally to see how other people may live their lives. The two of you were happy the way you were and wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

Then there was your close friend, Angel, who just loved to send and show you every video she found entertaining. She was a big social media person and kept up with almost every celebrity there was. You never understand the hobby but it wasn’t your life so it’s not like it affected you. Plus some of the things she showed you actually made you laugh, and sometimes you’d want to branch out to social media.

A few days ago Angel came to visit you while Levi was off running errands. The two of you watched some movies and caught up, talking about all the somewhat interesting things happening in your adult lives. Although she was much more out there than you were.

Of course before you were with Levi you were crazy just like her, but now you were settled and had fun in your own way. Besides, you found getting drunk on your days off with him and laughing about random things incredibly fun. Angel was just more of a go out and party type of girl.

It didn’t take long for her to start showing you videos she’s rounded up for this visit. Some made you laugh, others she had to explain because you didn’t understand it. You watched one of the videos and had no idea what the point of it was.

“Why is he getting mad at her for calling him Mike?”

Angel laughed out loud at your question and you started to feel a bit out of the loop. This happened sometimes and it made you feel old, but you had to remind yourself that you weren’t past thirty yet.

“It’s cause it’s not his real name,” she says like you should’ve known, “and he’s like,” her voice deepens, “who is Mike bruh?”

That’s when you laugh. Her explaining it was a lot more funny than the actual video was.

“Imagine if you did that to Levi, he’d totally freak,”she squealed.

You pondered the thought. Wouldn’t it be cruel though? You could only imagine the way your heart would feel if he said someone else’s name, but you couldn’t help but want to try it out. It was like a harmless prank, right? He’d find out almost as soon as it happened that you were joking and he’d probably tickle you as a consequence.

“Yeah he probably would,” you laughed.

She left a few hours later and you were alone with your thoughts. You wondered if you should do it. The video you watched were teenagers, was it immature to do? Well of course it was, but you were dying to see his reaction.

You grabbed your laptop and searched up, “Calling your boyfriend by the wrong name prank.” Tons of things popped up and you watched video after video. Each one made you laugh with the different reactions people’s significant other had.

The sound of keys at your door make you shut the laptop quickly and set it back on the table. Levi open the door with a small smile on his face and grocerie bags in his hands.

“Hey princess,” he said as he shut the door behind him and set the bags on the kitchen table.

“Hello,” you sang and followed him.

He started to take one thing after another out and you helped. You each alternated who ran errands so the other person could have some alone time. You lived together so having some time to yourself was extremely important. The idea was what contributed to you two being together for so long.

“What did you do today?” He asked as he started placing things in the fridge.

“Angel came over and showed me a million videos, and I cleaned a bit,” you answered.

The most cleaning you did was sweep and wiping the countertops, but you wanted to sound more productive. You couldn’t tell him about the videos you watched by yourself for the past hour and a half.

“Was going out alright? I know the store can be crowed on weekdays,” you say feeling kind of bad.

You’d been contemplating pranking him all day while he ran around and did things for you. Hey you still wanted to go through with it. Were you being soulless? Definitely.

“No, it was fine, don’t worry about it,” he smiled.

Levi reached into one of the bags and pulled out your favorite candy and laughed as your eyes widened. You did a little happy jump and grabbed it from him. He always liked to surprise you with little thing, it was something else that kept the relationship going.

“Thank you so much,” you can’t believe you were about to say it, “Mike!”

Yes, you went with calling him Mike. It was just the first thing that popped in your head because of the first video Angel showed you. You somewhat panicked last second as well so you didn’t have time to be creative.

His eyebrows automatically pressed together as his mouth parted in a scowl. He shut the fridge door and stared at you for a second as if he wasn’t sure you had just said some random name he’d never heard before.

“Um,” he takes a step closer to you, “who the hell is Mike?”

It was so hard not to laugh. His stance was so serious and his voice had reached a lower octave. Oh and the face he made was absolutely priceless and you wished you could’ve taken a picture.

“What?” You asked completely confused, as if you hadn’t just said Mike.

His nose crinkled in annoyance and he shook his head. He didn’t say another word, only grabbed more groceries and put them away. He’d convinced himself that he misheard you. It’d been a long day and he’s been moving non stop, and it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

“I was thinking of making grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner, does that sound good to you?” He asked with a smile.

You were confused now. Had he not heard what you said? Well of course he did, he asked you who Mike was. Maybe he thought he heard you wrong, that had to be it. You nodded at his question with a smile and helped put everything else away.

Later as he was making dinner and you two talked about random things you decided to try it again. Him not giving you a better reaction earlier kinda bummed you out. You felt even more immature to try it again but what was the worst that could happen?!

He wasn’t the jealous type whatsoever. There was no need to get worked up if he knew you were his, and had been for some time now, and he was yours. But deep down you knew if you pressed the right buttons he’d act different.

“The food smells so good Mike! I can’t wait to eat it!” You said in a cheery voice.

He pressed his palms against the counter top across from where you were sitting. His eyes are narrowed this time with his eyebrows already being knitted just like before. Teeth bite the inside of his cheek as he just looks at you with intimidating eyes.

You becomes antsy under his glare. You’d expected him to say something by now but he stayed silent. Was he observing you? Thats what it seemed like.

“Mike?” He finally questions.

In that moment you couldn’t hold it in anymore. He’d never reacted to anything like this before and it was priceless. His foot had even started to tap on the ground as the jealousy and anger started to bubble up inside of him.

Laughter pushed past your lips and his face had never looked so lost.

“What’s so funny?” He asked with an annoyed tone.

You wrapped your arms around your stomach as you laughed even harder. Levi leaned further onto the counter to become eye level with you, his features were basically asking you, ‘Are you crazy?’

“Oh my-“ you were cut off by more of your own laughter, “Your face, It was so funny! I can’t believe i actually got you!”

He started to understand, you were trying to mess with him and it totally worked. He started to pout and turn away from you, arms crossing. You giggled at his action and got up to wrap your arms around his middle.

“I was just joking,” you say while still letting giggles out, “I love you lots, not Mike. I promise.”

He ruffles your hair and hugs you back, finally letting himself laugh as well. You were going to have to give him lots of a lot for how much you’d just scared him.

“What even provoked you to do that?” he asked with his arms still around you.

“Angel showed me some video of-“ “Yep, she’s not allowed to come here anymore,” he says jokingly.

You looked at him with a frown and he only laughed more. He pecked your nose with his lips and you scrunched it up before kissing his chin.

“You owe me a better kiss than that!” He says with a shocked expression.

You scoff and press your lips to his, he could be such a softie. You may have to try some of the other things Angel had shown you, but Levi might just have a heart attack.

His fingers started to attack your sides and you squealed, this was your punishment.

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demons-fanatic · 3 years ago

Text

Luca: Fish out of Water

Hi guys, this is going to go over the literal entire movie so if you haven't seen the movie... Don't go below!

This post will be a full film analysis of Pixar's new movie, Luca and how it is clearly a Queer Allegory more than anything else.

Disclaimer: This entire post uses Queer in a reclaimed sense, especially in a sense for the entire community. If you do not like that, sorry.

So... Fish People. Luca is a 2021 Film by Pixar and distributed by Disney on Disney+. Unsurprisingly, I did not watch Luca legally and do not ever plan to, I will never give money to a homophobic tyrant such as Disney... Ever. But, I do love this Movie.

So, first things first... Does this Movie really have that much Queer subtext? Yes, it does. It really does and I think it'd be impossible to deny it. According to the Director, the intention was not to be a strictly LGBT reading, as it is just a film about people who are different. Which is true, that's exactly what this movie is about. But with certain key events and even phrases, I find it so hard for the intent not being Queer people specifically.

TL;DR Plot:

The Plot of Luca surrounds the titular Character and his friend, Alberto as they manage to explore the Surface World. Luca and Alberto are Fish People who are also able to transform into Humans once they dry off on Land. This is called "The Change" and it's unclear why this happens.

The Movie starts with Luca going to the surface and meeting Alberto, a fellow Fish Person. They begin to dream about getting a Vespa, or a Motor Scooter. Soon, Luca gets discovered by his Parents for going to the Surface and is almost sent away to the Deep Sea. He leaves and him and Alberto reach Portorossa, a town in the Italian riviera. A town that is very Anti-Fish People.

There, they meet a brattish teenager named Ercole and a younger girl named Giulia. Alberto and Luca learn about a Triathlon event in the town that will net them some money to buy a Vespa.

Giulia introduces the boys to her Father, Massimo; who is very Anti-Fish People.

They boys train and Luca's parents come to search for him. During this time, Alberto during a training session goes awry with the bike and ends up crashing into the Sea with Luca alongside him. They make it but due to a building upset nature, Alberto reveals himself but to his surprise, Luca acts like he didn't know about Alberto's nature. Leaving Alberto to leave back to his tower.

After feeling bad, Luca visits Alberto to apologize but Alberto is too upset to accept much. Luca proclaims he'll win the race to win the Vespa and the next morning he starts the Triathlon slow but builds up in performance. During this, it starts to rain. At the top of a hill, Alberto calls out to Luca but is forced to reveal himself. Luca overcomes his fear and saves Alberto and wins the race.

Though, their identities are found out, Massimo, who has grown attached to Alberto, is accepting of them and so does the town. This creates a welcoming Fish Person Environment in the town and it's also revealed not everyone who appeared human in the town was either.

Finally, Giulia is forced to go back to School, but it turns out Alberto sold the Vespa to buy a Train Ticket so Luca can go to School as he previously expressed interest in. Massimo also practically adopts Alberto. The boys embrace each other in a very impactful event and don't stop looking at each other until they get far away.

The Allegory...

So, there is a lot of detail I left out in that description but on purpose, of course. In this part I'll be detailing all of the parts that allude to Queer allegory and what it means. Of course, most people can think on their own but this is just here to describe the parts of it that stand out.

Firstly, Fish People are obviously just the LGBT community. I mean, people who have to hide their identity out of fear, especially in a fear of being killed? It's basically staring you in the face. Fish People are able to turn into Humans, which is when LGBT members have to blend in. The two Women at the end are sort of the example of LGBT members who have fully assimilated into normal Society, especially in a Homophobic or Transphobic environment or "Comphet" and being Closeted. I personally can identify with this one. Other characters like the Grandmother can be examples of LGBT people who are comfortable enough they don't feel the need to hide but also understand living is better than dying, but have "fun" with it.

Massimo is definitely an example of the Homophobes or Transphobes who wholly make it their entire personality to hate on Gay People or Transgender People but they're actually exactly like that or one of them. Of course, Massimo isn't a Fish Person but soon after it's shown in the Credits he immediately becomes very accepting especially after having to confront with himself the person he found himself attached to like his own Child, was what he once hated.

Giulia is just an example of an Ally, someone who may not be LGBT but fully supports them. Most people if they hear about how bad something is their entire life will be afraid once first faced with it but she almost immediately becomes accepting after learning Luca is also a Fish Person, trying to protect him.

The Betrayal of Luca to Alberto is a good example of internalized Homophobia and fear of also being found out. As I will describe later, Luca and Alberto are a CLEAR example of a Queer Romantic Relationship. When Alberto reveals himself, Luca found himself in a situation of extreme pressure and anxiety. He just found a life he could be potentially be living and instead of revealing himself as a Fish Person(Queer...) he instead "plays it safe" as he sees it in his mind and acts like he had no idea Alberto was a Fish Person(Queer, again...). It's something that does happen in real life, unfortunately, being outed or having people just like you, reject you, even if they are exactly like you.

The Parents of Luca are representative of Closeted People and the fear that if you out yourself, you can at any point be rejected to the point of even death. It's this fear the perpetually stagnates and personal growth. Of course, in real life there really are situations where you cannot come out for decades in fear of the same thing. And it's not like his(Luca's) parents had a reason not the fear the same.

Ercole, obviously just represents a full homophobe or transphobe. Someone who is unwilling to change and will continue to be homophobic and never question himself even when people near him are accepting. He also represents the power someone who is homophobic may have. Even if the other people who he influences aren't homophobic or transphobic.

This one is a bit rocky, but the Vespa is possible an allegory for the idealized "Vehicle" of escape... If you've seen Adolescence of Utena, it's the exact same thing. However, in this one this Vehicle is achieved but then lost, willingly. It becomes a Vehicle still in the way that it helps Alberto and Luca in their lives, finding their own Paths. It helps them both in the beginning to realize a goal of escape or betterment then near the end kicks off Luca's path and Alberto's.

Lastly, we have Luca and Alberto themselves... Now, as I said before, they are a clear representation of a Queer Relationship, specifically a Gay Relationship. You can interpret it as a Platonic Relationship, but I do it in the romantic Sense. Yes, I am aware the boys never confess ever or do anything very romantic, like kissing or holding hands. But throughout the movie, it's clear, very clear. They start out with Luca become attracted to his ideals and his mission and both of them soon form a Mission where they want to do the Vehicle of escape as I just mentioned. Soon after almost being sent away, Alberto and Luca go to Portorossa together and continue to build their relationship. Alberto and Luca defend each other and obviously care about each other. Soon after, Giulia and Luca grow a closer bond but nothing as close as Luca and Alberto. It's obvious that Alberto really likes Luca. Like, really obvious because this goes on until Alberto crashes him and Luca into the Sea and then the betrayal scene happens. During that scene it's clear that Alberto is extremely hurt, like really hurt. It reminds him that not only is he the "Bad" one in his head, the only person he thought he cared for(or loved) would willing to betray(out) him so that he can assimilate safely into Human(Heterosexual) culture. It definitely makes him feel bad and revert a bit back into a lone wolf mindset. Nearing the end, Alberto comes back nearing the end of the race with an Umbrella to help Luca win. But he ends up being tripped and revealed as a Fish Person. This is definitely just forced outing, it's quite obvious. But then Luca overcomes his fears and basically dreams of a normal life to safe his Friend(or Boyfriend, whichever you want). Luckily for them, due to Massimo seeing how much of a good person Alberto is, instead of attacking the boys, he accepts them as he realizes they're nothing like he thought. On the movies' downside, the town does fortunately accept the boys and all the Fish People. This isn't really realistic in any sense but, it does just explain a theory of mass acceptance if one let goes of their prejudice. The Grandmother in the following scene also explains a perfect Queer-like line:

"Some people will accept him, some never will. But he knows how to find the good ones." (Not an exact quote...)

I think to anyone who is in a marginalized group, specifically LGBT for this case, will relate to this line. It's very basic, but means a lot. It's also a strong reason why I feel like despite everything officially said, with everything else, this IS a Queer intended allegory.

Finally, the end scene at the Train is a good one and explains how Alberto and Luca after finding themselves and growing as people, they find their own way and are happy about it. Alberto and Luca hug, devastated at the fact they have to leave each other, even temporarily. It's sad and very real. Leaving your lover even for the betterment of yourself is extremely heartbreaking and you don't think you can do it at first, especially if you've been through a lot together.

Final Thoughts

So, I know I am not the only one that has seen everything I just said. In fact, the film's popularity right now seems to be exactly because of that. Not to mention the Movie's visuals are fantastic as well as the music.

You don't have to view this as a Queer reading, but I find it almost impossible not to and I, again, am not the only one. You can view it as basically any marginalized group, especially the ones that have to keep their identity hidden. I do think it's great this movie can bring a good allegory and subtext about a possible Gay MLM Relationship even if unintentional. I know Disney would not allow it, but I hope in the planned sequels they do a bit more of subtext. Of course, not to the point of Queerbait. But, we'll see. I think that Pixar has an amazing opportunity to try and slip by the censors... But probably not. It is good, though, that the director openly accepts a Queer Reading, so we're not left in the dark with someone trying to deny all Queerness.

_________

If you read this, thanks! I might update this post with more or edit it to clear things up. If you want to follow me, go ahead. But I just normally do Soulsborne lore posts so you won't find much here. I am not a Pixar or Disney person either, I just did this so I can talk about gay fish.

#Luca #Disney Luca #Pixar Luca #Disney #Pixar

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cakejots · 3 years ago

Text

this is us trying, Chapter 1 - The Beginning of an End

In this AU, they don’t know each other outside of the suit. And in this AU, Ladybug and Chat Noir love each other. But in this AU, Chat doesn’t want their identities revealed.

Written for @ladynoirjuly 2021

notes: this is a coherent story based on all the prompts; each chapter contains at least 3 prompts

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10

Read on AO3

1. Older

“Well, Chaton?”

Chat stared at Ladybug as though she had grown an extra head.

“My lady, are you sure you want to know?”

“Oh come on Chat, there are at least tens of thousands of people who are of the same age. There’s no way you can figure out who I am just from that.” She leaned forward, chin on her palms and eyes sparkled with anticipation.

“Hmm, that is true.” His fingers under his chin, eyes searching the sky. “I'm turning 21 this year.”

Ladybug looked dazed for a moment before smugness took over. “So I was right about your age! Well, the age range at least.”

“Oh? And how did my lady manage to guess it?”

Ladybug slowly ran her eyes down his body before peering right back into his eyes, and she smiled innocently.

Chat barked out a laugh.

“Now guess mine!”

“Don’t need to. I know you’re in the same age range as meow.”

She raised an eyebrow and his lips curled slyly. “The same way you managed to guess my age. Do you really want me to say it? Or in this case, show it to you?”

Ladybug couldn’t help but blush. “Okay, okay. You’re not wrong, I’m turning 21 this year too.”

Chat’s child-like demeanour came back, eyes lighting up. “Okay, but now I have to know who’s actually older! Mine’s in September.”

“I'm Leo, so the range is from July to August,” she grinned.

Chat regarded her with a mixture of awe and shock. “No way… You’re actually older than me!”

“Why is this a shock to you? I am more mature than you are,” Ladybug giggled.

“I mean, yeah, but for that fact to get thrust into my face, it just feels—”

“Surreal. I get it,” she sighed blissfully.

They fell into a peaceful silence as this new realisation settled within their hearts and minds. They were finding the most minute of things to share without giving away their identities, and just this tiny, basic fact about each other was overwhelming enough.

This, was something they could experience soon enough, to be normal again and enjoy the process of courting. This, was something they could slowly discover about each other soon enough, to fall in love harder, and to fall in love all over again.

“We are so close. So so close.” Chat gazed into her eyes, took her hand in his and squeezed, much like how his heart was feeling as it was overcome with emotions.

“We are finally nearing the end of all of this.” Ladybug pulled him into a tight hug.

2. Masks

It was over.

It was finally over.

It was a joyous day for Parisians as the supervillain who had been terrorising their city over the past few years had finally been caught and sent to prison.

It was a joyous day indeed.

But why was the atmosphere surrounding him so burdensome, just like the downpour that struck ever since he had entered the Agreste mansion?

The thunderstorm that raged above him, the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculouses that sat in his palm, and the face of the supervillain who was actually his father, glaring at him from a distance away with absolute despise and fury, they all seemed to be mocking him for his ill-fortune.

Of course there was no happy ending for him, even after the final battle. How could he have been so naive to believe that there was a positive outcome for him? He was the epitome of bad luck. From being chosen to be the Black Cat Miraculous holder, right down to his fate that had decided his course for him ever since he was brought into this world.

He was all alone now. His mother’s passing during his early teenage years had left an open wound in his heart. He saw the funeral happened. He cried as the ceremony went on for days on end. He was there to witness the burial of his mother. Those were definitive proof that his mother had passed. He has been mourning for his mother every year on her death anniversary.

So imagine his shock when he saw her in the basement he didn’t know existed, still as radiant and beautiful as he remembered. And to be slapped with the knowledge that his father had a hand in all of this.

He had a hand in withholding the truth about his mother’s whereabouts all this time. The truth that he had rights to. That she was well and alive but in deep deep slumber, one that she might never awake from. He had a hand in causing him so much pain, so much trauma. To be the perfect child he is to be, else he was no son of Gabriel. The direct role his father played in causing him to feel neglected, unloved, and worthless. Just so that he could play the supervillain and recruit innocent Parisians in his quest to obtain the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses.

He caused Parisians so much pain, stripping them of their right to feel what they feel. A minor slipped up from being unable to control their emotions and they became the villains for the day. He had used them for his selfish desires, to do his dirty work for him. All this for not being able to move on from the death of his wife. Not being able to accept the natural cycle of life.

And all of this had happened under his nose, but he didn’t even know. He has been living with the supervillain all his life. He has interacted with the supervillain almost daily. He has shown care and concern for the supervillain. He has forgiven the supervillain for his actions, always telling himself that he had his reasons for acting the way he did. He was a superhero and he didn’t even know.

If he had known, maybe he'd be able to convince his father to stop whatever he was doing. Maybe even prevent the current outcome of events, and even save his father from serving jail time. Some superhero he is.

He didn't know what would become of his mother, but he had long accepted that she had passed. And now, his father will leave his side, to pay for what he did.

Chat was truly alone now.

“Chaton?”

He blinked and looked over to his left. His lady was standing right beside him with concerned eyes, her hands on his left arm. The rain had lightened up considerably and he could see her as clear as day. He didn’t register her touch until he had seen it himself.

Chat wordlessly turned towards her and extended his right hand, the hand that held the two missing Miraculouses. He was expecting her to take them from him and called it a day with their habitual fist bump, but she closed his right hand and held both his hands in hers tightly and peered into his eyes.

“Chaton, are you alright?”

Ladybug cursed herself for asking the obvious. Clearly, he wasn’t feeling his usual self. The cheeky and confident demeanour he always had after the end of a battle was gone. His ears, tail, and posture seemed so deflated and depressed that he just looked like a kitten kicked hard.

She touched his face.

Chat grabbed her hand on his face and wanted to smack himself. His lady was right beside him all this time as he was drowning himself in self-loathing and self-pity. He couldn't let his gloominess take hold of her on this glorious day.

“I’m fine,” Chat showcased the brightest smile he could muster at that moment.

Ladybug worried her lips, not buying it for a single second.

“Chaton…”

He knew she wasn’t going to buy his act with the way she was watching him. Chat really didn’t know what he should do. His hand squeezed hers, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Can we go for a run, just for a while? I promised we’ll talk when we meet up again at the Eiffel Tower.”

When Ladybug didn’t respond, he opened his eyes to beg. “Please?”

Ladybug squeezed his hand before nodding and letting go, giving him a head start. Chat caught her hands before they fell completely by her side, and placed the Miraculouses within her palms. He made sure she put them away securely before jumping away. She followed him soon after, giving him the time and space he needed.

When Ladybug arrived at the Eiffel Tower, Chat seemed really nervous. She really didn’t know what made him like this, but he shouldn’t be that restless. Not of the revelations he made during the final battle and his rooftop run, and he definitely should not be uneasy about her arriving.

She extended her arms towards him. “Minou, can I hug you?”

Chat rushed to her and embraced her tightly. Her hands drew soothing circles on his back to release tension from his body, and he relaxed ever so slightly into hers.

“Okay, I’m ready to talk.” He took a deep breath to mentally prepare himself before he continued. “I-I know you’re looking forward to the reveal after the final battle. I am too. We’ve waited years for this moment. But… but can we not do that now?”

Ladybug instantly pulled back and gawked at him. To say that she was shocked was an understatement. She did not expect this at all. Yes, she totally forgot about the reveal because she was so focused on making sure he’s alright, but for him to just drop the bomb on her like that. “But—”

“I know this is a really unfair request from me,” he quickly added. “But I don’t want to deceive you. We can go on dates in our suits! So that you get to know me. All of me. How I act in and out of battle.”

He slowly averted his gaze. “And that the feelings you have for me will still be there even after our dates.”

Ladybug couldn’t believe her ears, Chat is still Chat, no matter the situation. The fact that he didn’t even include her in the proposal he just suggested made it obvious that he wasn’t even convinced himself. They both knew that they weren’t going to act any different. They’ve hung out outside of Akuma attacks, they will be the same in and out of the suit. It just didn’t make sense.

“Chat...” she pleaded.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry. Please don’t leave me,” he sobbed and enveloped her in a bear hug, afraid that she'd run if he didn’t have a tight enough grasp on her.

Wait, what? No, no! Where did he get the idea that she’s going to leave?

“I-I can’t—”

That's absurd.

“Chat, you don’t have to explain.” Her hands continued the back rubs from before, making sure that it soothed him enough till he’s comfortable loosening his grip. She slowly pulled back and cupped his cheeks, a smile on her face. “Words are not needed. I may not understand the reasons behind your decisions now, but I trust that your heart is in the right place.”

That subtle shine in his eyes did not go unnoticed by Ladybug. “Words cannot express how thankful I am, my lady.”

“Well, then better make it up to me with the dates you promised.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Judging the look on his face, she slowly added, “Do you need more time to sort things out?”

“I don’t know. Can you stay with me a while longer?”

She nodded understandingly and went back to hugging him. Chat tightened his arms around her and breathed in her scent. Her fingers left delicate touches in its trail from his back to his scalp, knowing full well that it's a gesture he’d appreciate. Low rumbles of purring slowly filled the air around them.

They stayed tangled for who knows how long before Ladybug popped the question.

“About the masks, are you sure?”

“Yeah. We don’t drop them,” Chat said with a conviction he knew was never there.

3. Tease

It’s been a week since the defeat of Shadowmoth.

A week since Chat broke down from whatever he had experienced during that short time frame of the final battle.

A week since he had declined the reveal.

Ladybug wasn’t pleased, how could she be? She had waited 6 long years for that, ever since the day they first met and swore to protect Paris from Hawkmoth’s clutches. Well, Shadowmoth now.

It sucked. Even Shadowmoth has had development. Her relationship with Chat? Null.

No. It wasn’t fair to say that. Of course their relationship had developed. From practical strangers to lovers, they trusted each other with their lives, even if they didn’t know who the other was behind that mask. That’s some intense trust they have right there.

But still.

She was really looking forward to the reveal. They were really looking forward to the reveal.

Chat must have had a reason for what he chose that day, strong enough to throw away what he desired most. But what?

Ladybug sighed, she supposed the only thing she could do was to hope that nothing about their relationship had changed. And be there for him when he needs it, like a good girlfriend she is. Are they even a couple? The unnamed boundaries were causing her additional anxiety she didn’t need now. She guessed she’d have to talk it out with Chat and make clear where they stood.

She got broken out of her thoughts when she heard footsteps approaching her.

“Hey...”

Before she even turned around, the tone of his voice sounded so tired, as though coming here was a chore for him. He had shared with her before that meeting her is always the highlight of his day. For it to become a chore… He must be really affected by it.

“My lady?” He stopped behind her.

That wouldn’t do.

She whipped around and flicked his bell, “Hey Chaton, you’re here!”

And as if that wasn’t enough, she had the sweetest smile he has ever seen plastered on her beautiful face. Those rosy cheeks and welcoming lips upturned, and the whites of her teeth slightly visible from her smile, directed at him. So happy to see him. So thrilled for him to be here.

It shot right through his heart. He couldn’t do anything else besides fixate his eyes on her radiant and alluring face.

“Aww, cat got your tongue? Or in this case, a ladybug got your tongue?” She cooed and flicked his bell once more.

She was relieved she still has this effect on him.

“S-she definitely did.” A pink hue dusted his cheeks.

Cute.

Ladybug figured the only thing she could do was to remind him of all the enjoyable memories they had together and banish the sad ones that gripped him from a week ago. The reveal can wait. What's important was to make sure he doesn’t forget why they wanted the reveal in the first place.

She concluded upping her tease factor was the way to go.

“I’ll make sure you know that my feelings for you are real and you won’t be able to resist my charms any longer.”

“My lady,” Chat whined. He was already regretting his decisions from a week before.

Ladybug, on the other hand, was grinning. She’d accept whatever he’s willing to give. She supposed she could get the ball rolling, to begin filling in on fresh empty pages as they experience falling in love all over again. Because deep down, that is what they’ve wanted after all.

#ladynoirjuly2021 #ladynoirjuly #ladynoir #mesfics #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #mlb fanfic #ladybug #chat noir #alternate universe #light angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #this is us trying

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fagundescamila · 4 years ago

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Power Couple #7 (Severus Snape x Reader)

Heeeeeello again! I'm sorry it took so long again! I promiss I'll try harder to update the story faster 😅

Some reminders: english is not my native language, so expect errors and if you asked to be tagged but weren't, send me a message and I'll try to fix it on the upcoming chapters

Tagzzz: @lizlil @misselsbells06 @mitchiesdungeon @sleepiesapphicxoxo @severuslovebot

As soon as they left the room, Severus' mind started to race and he thought about what he would say and the awkward silence that would inevitably fall upon them while they walked towards the dungeons.

But again, as it always seemed to happen to his impressions about their interactions, he was wrong.

"It's so weird to talk to all of them without feeling judged or under evaluation…" Y/N commented.

"Your former teachers, you mean?" He asked, almost relieved by the fact that they had just so easily started a conversation.

"Yes! They seemed weirdly interested!"

"It happens whenever they see old students. It was like that with me, when I started teaching here, then with Lupin…"

"What do you mean by 'old', may I ask you?" She asked, pretending to be offended.

"I didn't mean… After all, I'm..." He turned to her as they reached the corridor that led to the potions' room.

"I know, Severus! I'm just teasing." Y/N laughed. Snape chuckled and shook his head.

As they were about to enter the classroom, they heard some hurried steps behind them and, right after that, someone calling for Y/N. Severus recognized Hermione's inquisitive tone without having to turn around. He rolled his eyes in annoyance before facing the girl.

"Sorry to bother, Y/N! And you too, Professor Snape…" Hermione hesitantly said. Y/N smiled at her and signalized for her to go on and Snape had to fight the urge to roll his eyes again. "But I wanted to ask you something! I was wondering if you had any recommendations on books about Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh, I see!" Y/N said, impressed by the girl's attitude. "Since you're asking, I assume you covered all the titles recommended for the school year, am I right?" Hermione confirmed with a shy nod. "Okay, so I'm going to make some not-so-obvious recommendations, since it seems you already dominate the basics, is that ok?" Another nod. "I'd say you look for Confronting the Faceless…" At that Severus couldn't help but be impressed. "Quentin's bibliography is also really good, I think you probably have already read some of his books, but it's always a good choice and…I probably shouldn't…"

"Please do! I'd love any recommendation, really!" The girl asked.

"Alright. This will sound a bit unorthodox, but you're a clever witch!" Y/N stated and Hermione smiled proudly. "I'll recommend that you look for the Dark Arts basic theories and practices. Search for books like Secrets of the Darkest Art, Confringo Spellbok and Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed… That's a fair starting point, I believe." Y/N then looked intensely at the girl that seemed in shock. "Don't get me wrong! I'm only recommending this 'cause I believe in your good intentions and I know that you'll only get to read them if one of your Professors allow it. I know it sounds weird, but I have this theory that in order to fight something, you have to understand it first. Trust me, if you know how a spell works, it's easier to learn a counterspell, if you know the poison, you can make an antidote and so on!"

"I see! You're absolutely right! Thank you so much!" Hermione said, already looking forward to her next study sessions.

"Anytime!" Y/N smiled. "Just be a little critical with those readings and keep foccused on your actual goal, these books can be very persuasive sometimes…"

"Don't worry, I'll keep that in mind! Thanks again!" She was about to leave, but refrained herself. "Professor Snape, would you… write that permission for me?"

"I'll think about it, Miss Granger." He said with an eyebrow raised, but there was something in his tone that gave her some hope and she left with a smile.

"Did I just put you in an awkward situation?" Y/N asked, her tone and smile already asking for an apology.

"You mean making an insufferable teenager start bothering me about books? As if they didn't annoy me enough?" He asked sarcastically, which made her chuckle. Severus smiled at himself, almost proud of the fact that somehow - he didn't know exactly - he seemed to always make her laugh.

"My bad… But you can always refuse to let her read those books…" She said as they entered the room. "I mean… They are a bit disturbing, but…"

"I know… But I agree with everything you said to her… It's an unusual study approach, but it works. And if there's any student I would ever allow to read those kind of books at a young age, it would be Granger…" He said sitting at his desk to write the permission. "But you never heard me say it."

"My lips are sealed." She smiled at him, amused by the way he tried to appear cold and distant to his students when he actually cared about them. "So, those essays…" She started, leaning against the table, looking at his writing.

"Yes, I read them and got quite intrigued by that one with the brazilian herb…" He took a moment to process the fact that she was so nonchalantly standing really close to him. It wasn't exactly intimidating, but he felt his cheeks burning, so he decided not to look at her. "I actually did some experiments of my own…"

"Really?" She sounded impressed, which made him smile a bit and raise his head to see her amused face. "Can I see?"

Severus struggled with himself, debating if he would share his experiments with someone or keep them private, as he always did. He didn't know if he actually trusted the woman in front of him or if he just wanted to impress her, but he was inclined to show her his studies.

"You don't have to, though." Y/N was quick to say, seeing he wasn't sure about showing his work. "I mean…" But Severus didn't let her finish.

"Come." He said getting up, a smirk on his face as he led her to his private chambers behind the classroom. He held the door open for her and she entered his living room.

"So this is where a Hogwarts' Professor stays during the school year." She said taking a look around.

"A potion master, yes." He confirmed. "It was Slughorn's chambers before me."

"I see! It's nice! I mean… to have a house inside Hogwarts." She trailed off.

"It is, I guess…" He went to the kitchen and signalized for her to follow. With a wave of his hand he made the water in the tea kettle start to boil. "Fancy some tea?"

"Sure!" Y/N said, with a smile. Another wave of his hand and two cups of perfectly brewed tea were ready. "Okay, you gotta be kidding me, right? You're a potion master, so you make better tea than the rest of us, mere mortals, is that so? Are you an amazing cook as well? That's so cliché, Severus…"

Severus laughed lightly and opened the door to his personal lab, allowing her to enter before him. "I don't know about the cooking…"

"I don't believe you." She teased. "But that's a topic for some other time, let's see what you've been working on! I just have to remind you that I probably won't understand a single thing about your experiments."

"Now I don't believe you." He teased back and allowed himself a smirk, one that she couldn't see because his lips were hiding behind the cup of tea. Severus approached one of the cauldrons that was covered by a heavy cover. "I began by reproducing the author's recipe, which turned out quite well… The effects of the herb she mentioned really perform as she predicted. The calming draught that resulted is basically as effective as the original one." Snape explained as Y/N stepped closer to take a look at the potion. He observed her features as she seemed to really pay attention and for a moment or two, he forgot to continue. "But then I figured that, since this herb can replace a large number of ingredients, it meant that, there should be a way of making this potion stronger by the use of other supplementing elements." He then took the cover from three smaller cauldrons. "I've been able to manage some minor advances, but there are some ingredients missing in Hogwarts' storage."

"Really? Rare ones?" Y/N asked, still looking intensely at the potions, amazed by his progress.

"Some of them, yes. But mostly foreing insumes." Severus explained.

"Do you have a list? I could check the Ministry lab and storage and fetch you some of them, if they happen to be available there." She said looking up to face him, Snape raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Severus, the Ministry has more ingredients than we care to use. I'm sure no one will even notice some of them are missing. And even if they do, as head of the department, I'm in charge of the storage." She shrugged. "It's better that you use it than to let everything rot inside the aurors' cabinets."

"In that case, I can make a list and send it over to your office." Severus said. "Thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me!" Y/N tried to suppress a smile. "It's not like it's gonna be free of charges, you know…"

"No?" Somehow, he couldn't take her seriously.

"Definitely not." She took a sip from her tea. "You didn't think I would simply give you the ingredients, did you?" Y/N had this almost devious smirk playing at her lips as she watched Severus become more and more confused. "I mean, I have to see your list to know the actual price, but I'm guessing that at the very least, you're gonna have to buy me some drinks."

Snape almost choked on his tea. Was she really implying what he thought she was? Sooner that afternoon he was thinking about possible ways to ask her out and gave up on that idea because it seemed completely ridiculous and here she was, making it look like a joke.

"Is that so? That's how the Ministry charges for potions' supplies?" He managed to ask, trying with all his might to sound nonchalant.

"Hey, I don't make the rules…" She feigned innocence. "If you still want those ingredients, send me the list tomorrow and we can discuss the payment later." She shrugged again. "You know better, of course, but I'd say a dinner is a fair price considering you'll get to develop your researches."

"I'm sorry, did you say dinner?" He asked, already playing along. "I thought you said earlier it was just some drinks…" His sarcasm was finally being put to good use against her.

"I believe I said 'at least' some drinks. Who knows? Those ingredients can be really expensive sometimes…"

"Right…" Snape said, trying to keep the serious façade.

"Anyway… If you still want them, send me an owl with your list and I'll see what I can do." She said finishing her tea.

"I'll think about it…" Now he was just trying not to agree with going out with her right away.

"Of course you will." She chuckled. "I guess I'll leave you to your thoughts for the night then! It's getting late... Can I use your floo network?" Severus nodded and led the way to his living room.

"I'll send you the list tomorrow." Severus said as he watched her step into the fireplace.

"Good!" Y/N smiled at him. "Bye, Severus!" With that, she left his chambers in the green flames brought by the floo powder.

Severus stared at the empty fireplace for sometime, thinking about the nonsense of everything that happened.

For some reason, he didn't seem capable to stop smiling for the rest of the night.

#severus snape #severus snape imagine #snape #snape imagine #snape x reader #severus snape x reader #severus #severus x reader #professor snape #snape fanfiction

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years ago

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awkward ~ harry styles

word count: 1911

request?: no

description: after taking a role in a movie that she regrets, she has an awkward encounter with the inspiration for the movie’s source material

pairing: harry styles x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

(fair warning, there’s some slight trash talking of after. i really don’t like that movie or the books so if you do...maybe skip this imagine)

“And here we have (Y/F/N), star of the new teen romance After!” the interviewer happily announced into the camera.

I tried not to visibly cringed as I waved at the cameraman.

When you’re an actress, there’s this unspoken rule that you shouldn’t regret the movie that will launch your career. And, in some aspects, I didn’t regret After. I made new friends thanks to filming that movie, and, even before the first trailer launched, I was becoming a household name.

However, there was some things I regretted about After...like the decision to star in it.

I took the role of Tessa before I even really knew what the movie was about. I decided to do some research by reading the books, only to become absolutely appalled by them. The relationship between Tessa and Hardin was absolutely toxic, and the books only plot was basically sex. The entire trilogy! It was like reading Fifty Shades of Grey for teenagers. At that point, however, it was too late. I was already signed on to do the movie and I couldn’t back out.

Now, I was locked into trying to talk good about the movie until it was announced that I had backed out for the upcoming two sequels, something that wouldn’t happen until months after the movie’s release I was sure.

I was on the red carpet for an award show and I had already given at least four interviews about the movie. I was starting to get tired of it. Was this how Robert Pattinson felt trying to promote Twilight? That poor man.

“Were you aware of the source material before you took the role?” the interviewer asked me.

I shook my head, giving her the response I had basically memorized at this point. “I wasn’t, actually. It wasn’t until I got the script and it said it was based off of a book by Anna Todd, and I knew I had to go read the books.

“What were your thoughts when you read the novels?”

I thought it was an awful relationships and sex for teens. "It was interesting. The first movie isn’t a super close adaptation to the first book, but I think fans of the original will still like it.”

“Were you aware it was a fanfiction before a book?”

I tried not to sign in annoyance at yet another familiar question. “I found out shortly after reading the books actually. That’s pretty fascinating!”

“I don’t know if you knew this, but Harry Styles is actually here tonight. Do you hope to meet him?”

I felt slight panic swell in me. I wanted to say absolutely not! I didn’t want to have to face Harry after what I had been a part of. He couldn’t have liked the fanfic, it was awful! He probably hated that this movie was being made, not that he could really do much about it considering Anna Todd changed all the names in the book so it could be published.

I tried not to let me panic show as I responded, “As a long time One Direction fan, I would love to meet him if given the chance.”

I managed to get away from the interviewer before she asked anymore questions. I felt like I had to be on high alert now. The last thing I wanted was to run into Harry, and I had a feeling he wouldn’t want to run into me, either. Unless he didn’t know I was here, in which case that would make running into him even more awkward.

I managed to bypass any last interviews and get into the venue. Among the crowded room of people, I searched to see the one familiar face I was looking for. I let out a sigh of relief when I didn’t see him and went on to mingle some of the other attendees.

We were only 30 minutes to show time when I heard the familiar deep voice that I had been dreading all night. “Hello.”

I turned away from the conversation I was having to see none other than Harry Styles stood behind me. I felt my face heat up in embarrassment and I just wanted to melt into the floor. Did he come looking for me? What was he going to say to me?

“H-Hi,” I stuttered, causing Harry to smile.

“You must be (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you,” he said, extending a hand to me.

I tried to remain cool as I shook his hand. “I am, yeah. It’s nice to meet you, too, I’m a big fan.”

“So I’ve heard. An interviewer out there told me that she had been talking to you just before she talked to me.”

I could only imagine what an interviewer had said to Harry. Some of the interviewers on red carpets were vultures, they just liked to stir up drama for the sake of clickbait.

“Is that...all she said?” I asked, afraid of what else might’ve been said to him.

Harry shrugged. “She just talked about the movie some. I avoided those questions.”

I couldn’t stop the groan that erupted from my throat at this sound. “I am so sorry, I hope you know how much I regret filming that movie.”

Harry tilted his head. “Why do you regret it? They’re already saying it’s going to be the next big teen romance phenomena.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard. Too bad I won’t see it grow after the first movie.” I mentally scolded myself for spilling the beans already as Harry gave me a confused look. “I didn’t sign on for the second movie, or the third or however many they’re gonna make in the future. The first After is the end for me, that’s it.”

“Why would you do that? This is an easy three movie deal, wouldn’t most people kill for that?”

I shook my head. “I can’t believe you’re so concerned over this. I thought you’d hate the whole franchise considering it’s based on a really shitty fanfiction about you.”

To this, Harry chuckled. “Well, I don’t exactly like the After franchise. I’m definitely not looking forward to more people becoming aware of it due to the movies, but I also know what it’s like to try and break into the fame scene. It’s hard, you should always grasp what you need to in order to get to where you wanna go, you know?”

I smiled at this. “I guess you have a point. I’m just glad you don’t absolutely hate me for starring in the movie.”

“How could I hate you? I haven’t even properly met you yet, and so far, you’re too nice to hate.”

I felt blush creeping up my neck at this. I looked away from him, but couldn’t contain the smile on my face.

Harry and I talked for another while until we were being ushered to our seats. I hated to have to break away from him, but I had a feeling I’d see him after the show again.

The award show felt like it dragged on forever. I wasn’t nominated for anything, After hadn’t even come out yet, and I wasn’t presenting anything. I was just there to give interviews on the red carpet and to be just another face in the crowd. The performances were good, and the host of the show was hilarious, but I couldn’t help but wish it would just end already.

When it finally came to an end, I found myself waiting outside the arena for my Uber ride home. I was watching in confusion as my driver went in the exact opposite direction. Weren’t they supposed to have the GPS on their phone working? Where the hell was he going?

A car pulled up in front of me and the passenger side window rolled down. Harry’s smiling face beamed at me from inside the car as he asked, “Need a lift?”

I looked down at my phone, seeing how far away my Uber was yet again, before cancelling it all together and climbing into the front seat.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” I responded. “Uber sucks.”

“You didn’t get a ride to the show with anyone?”

I shook my head. “My manager sent for this fancy car to take me, so that I looked good in front of the cameras and such, but didn’t arrange a ride home for me.”

“That’s shitty.”

I shrugged. “That’s show biz, kid.”

Harry smiled and chuckled at this, and I felt a warm feeling in my stomach. Not a bad one, quite the opposite really.

The drive was silent for the most part, just some quiet music playing. I watched out the window as Harry drove, unsure of what to really say or do in this moment.

“You like the show?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

I shook my head. “Not at all. I thought it was quite boring since I had nothing to do besides talk up the movie I hate to the press.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, that’s understandable. Award shows are more fun when you’re not just sitting in your chair for like two and a half hours watching other celebrities get awards for things.”

“You did good, though,” I told him. “Your performance was amazing, you had the whole audience on their feet.”

He tried to contain it, but I could see the proud smile on his face. “That’s what I try to do with my music - something you can dance to and feel something when you’re listening to.”

“You definitely do both.”

God, small talk is so awkward. Why can’t you come up with anything else to say?

“I’m not good at this,” I admitted.

Harry glanced over at me for a moment. “Not good at what?”

“Talking to famous people,” I responded. “Well, super famous people I guess. I chatted with some people tonight who were more on my level of fame, but you’re like...you have your own level. Doesn’t help that I had a crush on you during my One Direction days.”

Harry’s low chuckle confirmed that I had indeed said that last part out loud. I face palmed so hard, the sound of my hand hitting my skin was actually audible, which caused Harry to laugh more.

“I’m such a mess,” I groaned. “Just dump me on the side of the road, it’s my time to go.”

“If I did that, I wouldn’t get to see you again.”

I looked over at him. “You wanna see me again?”

“Only if you’d like to spend more time with me.”

My smile was so wide that my cheeks were actually hurting, but I could’ve cared less. He was actually asking me to hang out and spend time with him? Yes please!

“I’d like that a lot,” I told him.

I was slightly disappointed when we pulled into my driveway, but it wasn’t enough to rid myself of the excitement I was feeling. Harry and I exchanged numbers before I got out of the car and smiled at him one last time.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised. I was too shocked to say anything else, so I just nodded before making my way to the front door of my apartment.

When the door closed behind me, I exclaimed with excitement and jumped around like a child on Christmas morning. Who knew that the movie I so despised would bring me some good, and not just with my career?

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry potter imagine #harry styles x reader #imagine #one shot

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hayden-thefuck-whywouldyoudothis · 4 years ago

Text

The Inevitable

Hello wonderful people! This is going to be my first ever fanfic that I am posting anywhere, so please be nice. I would appreciate feedback, and I think that if it does well here I’ll post it n Ao3.

I came up with this fic idea a little while back, and I’ve been writing it since 03/13/21. Basically the idea is that while Tommy was in the afterlife, he met characters who died during Tales From The SMP episodes that took place in the past. They told him their stories, and Tommy connected the dots. He goes to confront Karl in Kinoko Kingdom.

This story includes a headcanon that is not mine. I read a fanfic with the mute!Karl headcanon. The story was an absolute banger. If you want to hear a little more about that go read their story Come Home With Me by icaruswontmelt on Ao3

Story starts under the cut .

The Inevitable, by BangHaydenCoven

Death was the one thing that had always been truly eternal. When Wilbur came back as Ghostbur, it had seemed like death maybe wasn’t completely permanent because Wilbur was back. But he hadn’t been brought back to life. He was a ghost, a shell of the person he had been before everything went to shit. Tommy had truly thought that death was the one thing that stayed constant on this god-forsaken server. Being beaten to death and brought back by the person who hurt you so deeply puts a lot of things that were just beyond reach of perfectly understandable, into perspective. In the amount of time that had gone by while Tommy’s life actually went to hell and back, everything had changed. Tubbo had gotten married of all things, He had a kid. And a new best friend as well, apparently. There was, for the first time in a long time, a semblance of peace between all of the factions. Peace smashed, the moment he had been let out of the prison. No one looked at him the same way anymore. No one looked at him like the kid he was. The kid he was supposed to be. All they saw was an anomaly. Not a real, live, breathing person who has feelings and needs validation, just like other people. Proof of something that never should have been real.

Since declaring that Dream had to die, Tommy had holed himself up in his little house dirt mound of a house. When he finally got over the initial panic, the firsthand terror of forcing himself to think about the time he had spent dead, he allowed himself to do it freely. Puffy had told him it was good to think back on the trauma. He wasn’t sure just how much he could trust that ideology, but it seemed to work for the most part. Tommy had spent the majority of his time in the afterlife with the people he had known when he was alive. Wilbur, Schlatt, Mexican Dream. It had been pretty simple. They spent a lot of time playing card games, for some reason. But one day, a fight had sparked between Tommy and Schlatt, causing the younger to storm off into the distance. He had been fuming that day. It hadn’t even been a fight that made sense. Schlatt had thrown some baseless accusations his way, and Tommy had just given up. He needed a break. So he walked away.

He walked.

And he walked.

And he stopped.

Looming over him was a building that was like nothing Tommy had ever seen. It was old, dusty, and cold. It belonged in the afterlife, to put it simply. It fit. It was a simple embodiment. Then, laughter filled the air. Frightening, drunk laughter that was cold but inviting. Tommy followed the spine-chilling noise into the building where he found four people. Three were dressed like they were from the Wild West. Cowboy hats, cowboy boots, and simple revolvers at their hips. The fourth was also clearly from the same time period, put was dressed simply. When he walked into the building, they just stared at him. Cold, level stares that made him feel like he would rather die all over again then be stuck under those gazes for the rest of eternity. But suddenly the looks of the people softened as they beckoned him over, introducing themselves as Connor, Mason, and Jack Kanoff. They were group of bandits called the Democrat Haters, and a simple bartender named John John. They told him their story, to put it simply. They told him how they died.

That was only the beginning.

Tommy wandered for a week straight, meeting people, hearing their stories. He met higher members of society who attended a masquerade only to die brutal deaths at the hands of a possessed butler, the members of a village with a crazed murderer that didn’t know haw to stop, that killed people brutally, among many others. And every single story Tommy heard had a one thing in common. There was always one man, in every story, who appeared out of no where, wearing colourful clothing and iridescent goggles perched on his head. He didn’t always use the same name, but he was always there, no matter when it had happened. As Tommy moved around his home to prepare, one thought rang true in his mind.

Karl was getting a visitor tomorrow.

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Walking to Kinoko Kingdom had taken a lot longer than Tommy had originally thought and planned for. Not that the little settlement was close to the rest of the Greater SMP, but it wasn’t far either. Regardless of distance, it was still far too long of a walk for Tommy to be in a good mood when he arrived to find Sapnap of all people tending to the garden in Kinoko. Usually Tommy would have snuck up behind Sapnap and scared him to intentionally piss the older man off, but that was the old Tommy. The old Tommy had stayed dead. Instead, he announced his presence by kicking an acorn at the other mans head. There was a loud yelp, followed by a string of curses that matched the flowers in the garden with how colourful they were.

“George, I swear to god, if-” his sentence dropped of in a look of pure disbelief as he turned around, expecting to see his best friend that deserved a good scolding. A dead teenager was definitely different. And confusing.

“Shit...” Sapnap mumbled, “Tommy?”

“Hello Sapnap. I must say its very nice to see you doing something other than killing pets. Or your fiances.” He smirks.

“Well it’s definitely you. The question is how. How are you alive?” he says as the shock on his face fades into confusion mixed with disbelief. Tommy freezes.

“Only if your okay with it of course. Don’t answer if your not comfortable. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up. That was insensitive of me...” he trails off as he realizes Tommy seems less stressed at the fact that Sapnap isn’t going to make him talk about it.

“Sapnap,” Tommy started, “I need to talk to Karl. Like, right now.”

“Alright,” said Sapnap, nodding slowly, “I’ll go get him. Stay right here.” As Tommy watched the other man walk away to retrieve one of his fiances, he really hopes that what he is about to accuse Karl of is wrong. Maybe one day they’ll laugh about this. Probably not.

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As Sapnap entered the house, looking for his fiances, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was that Tommy so urgently needed to talk to Karl about. Not finding his fiances on the first floor of their shared house, he went upstairs to continue his search, not wanting to keep the teen waiting for too long. As he opened the door to the throuples bedroom, he let out a small huff of affection when he saw his fiances, the loves of his life, asleep in their bed. Quackity had his arms around Karls waist, with his wings over both of them like a blanket, reflecting the golden light of the sun filtering through the window. Not wanting to disturb the scene in front of him, he let out a small sigh of annoyance as he forced himself to wake up Karl, and by extension Quackity.

“Theres someone here who wants to talk to you.” he muttered softly in Karls ear.

“Who?” Karl signed sleepily.

“Tommy. It seems pretty important. He’s down in the garden.” Sapnap said a little louder, seeing that Q was now awake, so there was no reason to stay quiet.

“Alright.” He signed, “Let’s go.” as he got up, he tugged on Quackity’s sleeve lightly. “Are you coming, Q?” He nodded and gave a small smile.

“Alright,” Sapnap said, pulling Quackity into a quick hug, and giving him a quick kiss on the temple, “Let’s go then.”

As they left the house and approached Tommy sitting at the picnic table in their back garden, they exchanged a small conversation in sign language.

“Is he okay?” said Quackity with some concern clear on his face, his movements slow and scuffed from sleep.

“He looks really tired.” Sapnap added.

“Q, could you run in and prepare some sandwiches and lemonade?” Signed Karl, “We’ll bring Tommy inside and we can all have lunch together while we talk.”

“Of course, my love.” Said Quackity, giving Karl a small kiss on the cheek before hurrying inside to prepare some lunch.

Turning to Tommy to thank him for waiting, he was met with a face of absolute, genuine confusion. As Tommy stared at their hands, then looked back over to Karl, his face quickly changed to a look of understanding.

“I forgot,” he said as he stood up sheepishly, “that Karl was mute.”

“That’s okay Tommy.” Karl cut in before Sapnap could say anything, “I know you’ve been through a lot recently. It’s okay to forget things from time to time. I should know.” Karl signed slowly so that Tommy could keep up with his rusty remembrance of sign language, adding a small smile at the end of his sentence.

“Thank you Karl.” Tommy said with a sigh of relief.

“Would you like to come inside and have lunch with us? I know you have something to talk to me about, but you look hungry. We could talk right after though. How does that sound?” Karl signed with a smile on his face.

“That sounds great.” Tommy said after a beat of hesitation.

“Perfect,” said Sapnap, “let’s head inside. Q is making some sandwiches.” They all headed inside, one dreading the talk that would come after, the other two wondering what could possibly be so important to cause Tommy to come all the way out to Kinoko Kingdom to talk to Karl.

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Tommy and Sapnap sat down at the table in the dining room as Karl went into the kitchen to help Quackity. Usually it would be all three of the in the kitchen, making food and having a good time, but Sapnap needed to take advantage of the situation at hand. Since he hadn’t visited the main SMP in a while, Tommy gave him the rundown of the current and recent events he knew of. Nothing too bad, but Sapnap knows you can never be too careful. A few minutes later, Quackity and Karl emerge from the kitchen carrying some plates and the food. As they sit down and start to eat, Sapnap and Quackity make small talk that Karl contributes too every once in a while with some one handed movements, putting his sandwich down when it was necessary. But Tommy stayed quiet, which the fiances found quite odd. Clearly whatever the boy had been through recently, on top of all his other trauma, had really messed with him. The loud, boisterous teenager they had known before was gone, replaced with someone they didn’t recognize in the slightest. So Tommy stayed silent the entire time, not noticing the quick, worry filled glances the trio sent his way every so often.

Soon enough, they had all finished eating. They were sitting in the fiances’ living room together, Tommy on one couch, the tree of them on the other. The room sat in an awkward silence as Karl, Quackity, and Sapnap waited for Tommy to talk to them, and as Tommy decided what to say.

After a moment, Tommy said, “Are you sure you want them here for this?” Karl’s eyes widened at how blatant he had been.

“Of course I want them here.” He signed quickly, “They are the people who matter most to me. Whatever you need to say to me you can say to all three of us.” Sapnap and Quackity nodded, not wanting to disrupt anything.

“Alright,” Tommy sighed, “Where should I start...” Karl’s hands stayed firmly in his lap to give Tommy a moment to think. “Well, I guess I’m just going to say what I came here to say, and pray to Prime that I’m wrong.” Karl nodded, once, slowly. Tommy took a deep breath before opening his mouth and saying...

“Your a time traveler, aren’t you?”

Silence.

And then laughter

All he could hear was laughter.

Sapnap and Big Q were laughing.

Karl was not.

Karl wasn’t laughing.

The look on his face was not one of someone who had just been accused of some laughable fallacy.

A fantasy, really.

Sapnap and Quackity had stopped laughing.

They seemed to have come to the same conclusion that Tommy had.

“Karlos?” Quackity started, “There is no possible way...” he stopped, a look of pure disbelief on his face.

“Tell me that he’s lying Karl.” said Sapnap. “Please.” Karl’s hands started to move, making aborted and scuffed movements as he tried to figure out what to say.

“No,” He finally settled on, “he’s right. I’m a time traveler.” Sapnap started crying at this, and Quackity gave him a hug as he buried his face into his fiances neck. Karl looked completely torn. He clearly wanted to comfort his fiances, but he knew he shouldn’t while Tommy was still here. But he also didn’t know if he could. Karl didn’t know if he was even still allowed to comfort them after keeping this big of a secret from them, and for so long. Karl started signing again, this time with clear urgency behind each movement.

“Two things, and then I need you to leave. Understood?”

“Of course,” said Tommy, “I will leave immediately.” Karl nodded.

“Thank you. First things first,” he signed, “how did you know?” Tommy sighed. He really didn’t want to talk about this. But Karl deserved to hear the truth.

“When I died, I was in the afterlife for a little while,” Tommy said softly, “One day I walked away from the people I knew in the afterlife, Schlatt, Wilbur, and Mexican Dream. I walked for so long I came across a building I had never seen before, and when I went in I met a group of people from the Wild West.” Karl’s eyes had gone wide.

“You met Jack and Mason and Connor?” he signed.

“Yeah, and John John as well. They told me what happened the day they died, and they mentioned you. Not directly, but they mentioned a man that had showed up out of nowhere wearing bright colours and iridescent goggles.” Karl looked wistful, remembering his time sent in the Wild West, even if it hadn’t been an exceptionally fun trip at the time. Tommy continued. “I also met the people who visited the masquerade, same story. But this time they mentioned your name. And lastly I met the townfolk of the Village that went Mad. Same story, but no name once again. I just connected the dots.” Tommy fell silent, waiting for Karl to tell him something. Sometime during his revelations, Sapnap and Quackity had left the room to comfort each other. Karl clearly wanted to tell them he was sorry, but he couldn’t do that until Tommy had left. Turning back to the teen, he started signing once more.

“Thank you for telling me, Tommy. I just have one thing to ask of you, then you can leave.” Tommy nodded his head, and Karl continued, “You cannot, under any circumstances, tell anyone what you know. It would put everyone in grave danger. Is that clear?”

“Of course. I won’t tell a soul.” Karl gave him a small smile. “Now I think you should go talk to your fiances.”

“I will,” he signed, leading Tommy to the front door, “Goodbye, Tommy. Have a good trip back.”

“Goodbye, Karl.”

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As he walked towards the door of their shared bedroom, he could barely hold himself back from running to the room to comfort them. But Karl couldn’t be sure that they would ever be the same again. It broke him to think that, but he had lied to them, for a long time. They probably hated him.

He stopped outside of the door, hearing faint sounds of crying on the other side of the door. He slowly opened the door to see Quackity and Sapnap cuddled up together against the headboard of their bed, with all of the lights out. Sapnap was asleep against Quackitys chest, tear tracks all over his face. Q wasn’t much better.

“Hey Karl.” Quackity said softly, sniffling a little.

“Hi.” he signed back, gong to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m so sorry.” he signed after a beat of silence. “I have no excuses. I just wanted both of you to be safe from it.”

“But... what is it, Karl? Why couldn’t you tell us? Are these the trips you’ve been going on? Does it have something to do with your memory problems?” Quackity rambled, question after question. He cut off when he realized how tense Karl looked. “...sorry.” he said, lowering his voice once more.

“Woah, Q, it’s okay. But I can only answer one question at a time.” Quackity nodded. “It is the In-Between,” he started, making the ASL sign for between, then spelling it out, “I don’t actually know what it is, but I managed to get away from it recently. It was stopping me from telling you about my time traveling. It told me that telling you guys would put you guys in grave danger. I couldn’t let that happen. So I kept it a secret.” He stopped, hands dropping when he couldn’t figure out where to go from there. Quackity opened his mouth, about to ask a question, when he felt Sapnap stir at his side.

“Hey babe.” Quackity said, Sapnap just let out a little huff. “Sap, do you feel up to talking right now?”

“...yeah...is he here?” he mumbled, voice heavy and slurred with sleep.

“He is.” Quackity answered. Sapnap looked up at him, then looked over to Karl.

“Hi Sap.” he signed, not making eye contact. “I want to apologize to both of you. For not telling you. There really is no valid excuse that I have. The In-Between was crazy. I just wanted to keep both of you safe.”

“What is the In-Between?” Sapnap asked. Before Karl could answer, Quackity cut in.

“He doesn’t know, Sap.” he whispered.

Sapnap continued, “I want you to tell us the whole story. Please?” Karl looked conflicted.

“Alright.” he signed, “I’ll start at the beginning.” So he did. He told them the whole story. By the time he had finished, all three had tears running down their face. “Do you understand now?” Karl wiped his eyes before continuing, “It wasn’t safe to tell you.” Sapnap nodded, eyes red and puffy from crying.

“You need to stop traveling Karl. Me and Sapnap wouldn’t be able to live with ourselves if you forgot everything.” said Quackity, pulling Sapnap even closer. Karl sighed.

“I can’t control the traveling. I don’t know if it will ever stop. All I need right now is you two. If I hadn’t wanted to get home to you guys so desperately, I would have forgotten long ago.” Karl got up and grabbed his journal. “Fill it.” he signed, after he gave it to his two fiances, “fill it with everything I need to remember. And when I come back each time, help me remember. Please.” Sapnap looked up at him, then glanced at Quackity, coming to a silent agreement. They would do anything to keep Karl with them.

“Of course we will, mi amor.” said Quackity, opening his arms to invite Karl to come sit with them. Karl smiled, tears running down his face once again, crawling into their warm embrace. And as they sat there, holding each other close, Karl took each of heir hands, pressing his favourite symbol in ASL into their palms.

“I love you.”

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Thank you for reading!!! Once again, if you like this, leave a comment or something, idk. And make sure to go check out the story linked at the top of this post for more about the mute!Karl Jacobs hc.

Have an amazing day, wonderful people.

#karlnapity #afterlife #karlnapity fic #ficlet #fanfiction #dream smp #dream smp au #quackity #sapnap #karl jacobs #tales from the smp #the masquerade #the village that went mad #the wild west #time travel #mute character #headcanon #canon divergent au

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childishfluff · 4 years ago

Text

Little Kitten- [TommyInnit Pet Regression Oneshot]

Pet Regressor/Kitten!TommyInnit, CGs/Handlers!Wilbur and Tubbo

Tommy liked feeling small. But more then that, he liked feeling like a small kitten. He liked cat ears and playing with balls of yarn, and curling up in a little ball to take a nap. None of this was a problem until Wilbur and Tubbo came to stay at his house for a week, and he had to hide both a littlespace, *and* a kittenspace. And when Tubbo continuously calls him a "kitten" due to his results on a stupid internet "what animal am I" quiz, and Wilbur literally pets him while cuddling, he realizes he wasn't going to last a day. He was simply a little kitten. And now his friends knew that. -- This is non-sexual, sfw age+pet regression, dni if your nsfw/abdl/ageplay/petplay/cgl/ect. If any of the creators included in this work say *anything* about being uncomfy with fan fiction/of agere content including them, I will take this down and/or modify it appropriately. If they have already said something that I'm unaware of, please let me know.

A/N: so I was reading some tommy centric fics and the idea of Catboy!Tommy popped in my head, which eventually evolved into Kitten Regressor!Tommy as I brainstormed and this 4000-something oneshot happened. To my knowledge, there are no other pet regression fics in this fandom, and this is my first pet regression fic. If I misrepresented something, or you just wanna tell me something cool about pet regression in the comments, feel free too lmk in the reblogs/replies/in my ask box after reading!

For those who don't know, pet regression is similar to age regression. Pet Space (kittenspace,puppyspace,ect) is a separate headspace that someone can slip into, where they act like a different critter or creature. It can be used for all the same reasons as agere, and the online communities overlap a ton! You can look into it more, but that's the gist of it! It's nonsexual, safe for minors, and it ISN'T P3TPL@Y! also warning for a very brief mention of kinks and "getting off" (tommy basically saying that he's not into petplay) at the beginning.

Tommy liked feeling small. But more then that, he liked feeling like a small kitten.

Figuring this out was confusing for him. Even after discovering why he liked acting like a toddler sometimes, and why it helped him, he had to figure out why he also found comfort in pretending to be an animal. At first, he thought that this cutesy cat-like headspace was just him playing around while little, pretending to be one of his favorite creatures.

But then, he noticed how different his behaviors were when he got like this versus when he was just being a kid. It was really annoying, because he could research anything without stumbling across kinks that he was sure he wasn't into.

Just because the thought of wearing cat ears and curling up in someones lap and being pet softly made him happy, didn't mean he got off on it. Eventually, though, he discovered pet regression.

The pet regression community was overlapped, heavily, with the age regression and age dreaming ones he already secretly took part in. He was shocked he hadn't stumbled across it during his late-night scrollings through the "littlespace" tumblr tags.

Just like when he discovered his littlespace, he bought things online with money saved up from streaming, telling his family it was supplies for a video, and created a secret little box that sat under his bed for whenever he wanted to indulge in that headspace. Choker necklaces that resembled kitty collars, cat ears, certain sensory toys, different snacks.

Now, none of this would be a problem, if it wasn't for the fact that Wilbur and Tubbo coming over to stay at his house for a week while his parents were on vacation. Yes, he had pushed to stay home, preferring that he was babysat by someone he saw as his older brother, instead of being forced to go on a boring trip and go on a forced streaming break.

But he didn't quite think out how he'd pull off not regressing in front of either of the two of his friends, for a whole week. Tommy regressed the most when his parents weren't home, and now he couldn't do that.

All he could do is hope that he wouldn't slip, and that they wouldn't discover either of the two boxes under his bed. He'd quickly find that that was really hard when he had two friends that constantly teased and babied him.

"So, what should we do this week? Besides streaming and gaming, of course," Tubbo questioned from his spot where he laid on Tommy's bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tommy shrugged, spinning a bit in his gaming chair.

His parents had left a few hours ago to catch their flight, after Tubbo and Wilbur were dropped off early that morning. Tubbo had gotten settled, and Wilbur took the responsibility of making them lunch. So now, the two teenagers sat in Tommy's bedroom.

"I don't know. We'll obviously film some videos," Tommy spoke casually, biting the inside of his cheek. All the excitement and anticipation had worn off, and now they were bored. Yeah, they could start a stream or boot up a game, but it felt right to just enjoy each others company. They had sat in silence for a while, their previous conversation falling off when they ran out of things to say, until one of them tried to start another.

Tubbo had gone through a lot of trouble with his parents to be there, doing everything he could to convince them that Wilbur was responsible enough to watch over him for a week. Tommy wasn't just gonna shove a mic in his face and tell him to entertain his twitch viewers.

"I have an idea!" Toby gasped, sitting up suddenly.

"What is it?" Tommy laughed a bit at his sudden realization, and how his friend had replied to it.

"We should take online quizzes together," he suggested. "Hogwarts house, personality type, whatever you want, and compare our results. You in?" he questioned, standing up and coming over to sit in the wooden chair to the left of Tommy's.

For now, the blonde had two of his kitchen chairs in his room, so that the three men could huddle up together at his PC for streams throughout the next week. "Sure," Tommy nodded a bit, booting up his computer.

"We should start with the Hogwarts House quiz, don't ya think?" Tubbo asked, watching him open his browser.

"Sounds good to me," Thomas agreed, following his suggestion and searching up the desired quiz.

After a handful of quizzes, most of which Tommy deemed "inaccurate" due to results that didn't make any sense to him, they took a "what animal are you" quiz. Tommy knew what his results would be, he's taken tests like this a million times.

It'd most likely label him as a cat. He figured that Tubbo would be none the wiser, clicking through the test and answering honestly. He was a little taken aback when the result screen specifically told him that he was a "kitten".

"Aww," Toby cooed in a teasing voice. "I thought that you might've gotten 'cat', but kitten? That's so cute." he laughed a bit.

"It's probably because they just put kitten in place for cat," Tommy scoffed, hoping with every ounce of his soul that he was pulling off the "shocked and annoyed" act, which he hoped covered up his nervousness.

"Let's see," Tubbo took control of the mouse, click on the drop down arrow next to the blue text that read 'All Possible Results'. "See! There is an option for cat, and it called you a kitten!" he cheered, causing Tommy to roll his eyes a bit.

"Whatever," he said, "It said you were a Golden Retriever, so..."

"Tom-Tom's a little kitty!" Tubbo ignored his statement, talking loudly in a sing songy voice. Tommy knew that he wasn't doing this to be mean, and that he was just joking around, but it did hurt a bit. Because he was a kitten sometimes, and it felt like his friend was making fun of it.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, but the food is ready," Wilbur's voice joined the conversation, the older man suddenly appearing in Tommy's doorway. Tommy jumped to defend himself, but Tubbo got there first.

"We took an online quiz that said Tommy was a kitten! 'Cat' was an option, but it said that he was a little kitty," he laughed again.

"Oh, don't tease him." Wilbur said, "Those tests are crap anyway, I'm sure there was a question you misunderstood or something." he claimed as he came closer to them, standing behind the two chairs as he looked at Tommy's monitor. He could tell that the teasing was making Tommy a bit uncomfortable.

He didn't know why for sure, figuring that it had something to do with being called a 'kitten' feeling to childish for him. "Maybe," Tommy agreed, looking up to Wilbur thankfully. Tubbo must've realized that he accidentally upset Tommy when Wilbur intervened and Tommy immediately seemed relieved, because the next thing he did was apologize.

"I'm sorry, Tommy," he spoke up. "I was just teasing, I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's all good," Tommy smiled a bit, shrugging, feeling a little better with the reassurance that it was all just a joke. "Most of the tests were crap anyways."

The three of them shifted their conversation to other topics, making their way out to the kitchen to eat the food Wilbur made. Later on, they all gathered up blankets and pillows and snacks to watch movies in the living room.

Tommy was a little worried that the Disney movie Wilbur picked would make him go into littlespace, but that seemed to be the least of his worries as they tried to figure out their cuddling positions for the movie. Of course, they didn't need to cuddle, but it seemed that they all silently agreed that they would be.

"I wanna lay down," Tommy whined, re positioning a pillow near one end of the couch.

"Come here, you crybaby," Wilbur ordered, grabbing his arm. Tubbo was curled up to Wilbur's side, one of the older mans arms around him as he settled into the warmth of the embrace. Wilbur guided him into laying down so that his head was in his lap, a few layers of soft fabric between their skin.

Tommy didn't fight against this, blushing just a bit as he curled up, letting Wilbur lay a blanket over him. "Is this okay?" he asked in a soft voice, looking down as him. Tommy nodded softly, glancing up at him for a moment before he looked away shyly. Why was he so bashful right now?

"Cuddly," he mumbled simply, settling into the position mindlessly. Wilbur seemed pretty amused by this, using his nails to scratch his scalp, the action not unlike how he'd scratch a kitten's head if one curled up in his lap. Again, Tommy didn't protest, leaning into the touch a bit.

Wilbur continued doing things like this as the movie played, sitting back and lightly petting the boy. He'd play with his hair, or run his fingers over his skin in simple patterns. It was just a cute way of showing affection, and the blonde teenager seemed to enjoy.

Meanwhile, Tommy was holding back kittenspace and trying to focus on the childish movie. His petspace was voluntary, to his knowledge. But Wilbur treating him like a cat, giving him the simple affection he's secretly wanted for so long, made him want to regress to the state of a kitty so bad. He was halfway there already.

He just wished that he could put on his little cat ears. He always looked to cute when he did.

His friends did notice that he stayed very quiet throughout the movie, not really replying to their joked or adding onto their commentary of the movie. They didn't say anything, though, assuming that he was just sleepy earlier than usual, joking amongst themselves as the plot of the movie played out on the screen.

At one point near the end of the movie, Wilbur reached over and scratched the patch of hair closest to Tommy's ear, earning a hum from him. It sounded much closer to a kitten's pur, which shocked Wilbur. He looked over to Tubbo, leaning close to him and whispering, "He really is a little kitten, huh?" as he continued to scratch his scalp.

Toby giggled a bit, nodding in agreement. Tommy seemed to suddenly realize what he was doing when Wilbur pulled his hand away for the time being, cutting out his low hum and burying his now-red face in the blankets across Wilbur's lap.

Wilbur could help but think about how cute he looked doing that, immediately feeling the need to cuddle the boy close and protect him.

Eventually the credits started rolling, and Wilbur told the boys to get off of him. Tubbo did it with little complaining, stretching a bit and standing up with a yawn. Tommy, however, completely lost in his kitten space as this point, whined, pouting.

"I know you're comfy, and probably sleepy, but it's time to get up, Toms." Wilbur told him, fighting against the urge to just push him off the couch. Yes, it'd be funny, but it'd also be mean. Wilbur didn't wanna upset him.

When Tommy didn't reply, remaining curled up with his head in Wilbur's lap, the pet his head softly once again, pushing back the blanket that laid over him a bit. Immediately, Tommy switched his position so that he was laying on his back, swiping his hand at Wilbur's, scratching him a bit.

Like a playful kitten.

Wilbur gasped, seemingly confused as he tilted his head. He dropped the blanket, pulling the attacked hand to his chest defensively. Tommy didn't hurt him all the much but he did just try to scratch him in response to his blanket be taken away. It was funny, and cute, but also confusing. "Ouch! Why'd you do that?" Wilbur asked, pulling his hand away immediately.

Tommy pouted up at him, not knowing exactly how to verbally apologize. He decided on his next actions, rolling over so that he was on his stomach and stretching out. He then adjusted himself so that he was on his knees and hands, looking at Wilbur with a slight head tilt.

There was still a clear pout on his face, his eyes innocent and cute. "What are you doing?" Wilbur chuckled, not understanding his behavior. He couldn't blame all these absolutely adorable actions on being sleepy, surely. He was acting like a kitten, undeniably.

"He's a kitten!" Tubbo said, coming closer to him and scratching Tommy's head. Tommy nuzzled into his hand as he leaned into the touch. "Pet regression," he remembered the name for it, saying it suddenly a few moments later. "I thought Tommy might've been a little but I didn't know about this."

"What?" Wilbur questioned, only more confused than before.

"I think Tommy's an age regressor, and a pet regressor, too, apparently," Tubbo looked to Tommy for some sort of confirmation. Tommy nodded a bit, shyly, confirming both of his guesses. "He can revert back to the state of a child, and also a kitten! He's in a cat-like headspace, so he's going to act like a baby kitty." Tubbo giggled, wiggling his fingers over Tommy's head and watching as he swatted at it. Toby pulled his hand away at the last second.

"I researched age regression because Tommy was acting a bit childish during a late night call a while back, and came across petre too," Tubbo added. "I was planning on asking him about the little thing while I was here, actually."

Tommy didn't know that Tubbo already knew. If anyone could've guessed, it would've been him. They were best friends. He'd call him a lot when upset, or stressed, to talk about what was bothering him. It wasn't a shock that the main person who saw him when he needed something to help him feel better had started to pick up on the traits that hinted toward the coping skill he used to feel better.

Wilbur seemed to understand. For whatever reason, Tommy liked acting like a cat. It was a sort of headspace that he could get into, that Wilbur must've accidentally triggered. Tubbo continued to play with and pet Tommy, explaining the basics of both age regression and pet regression to Wilbur.

"They can both be done for coping, voluntarily or involuntarily. It seems that all the cuddling and petting made him slip. I think he's nonverbal, too, at least as a kitten," Tubbo said, running his fingers through Tommy's hair. At some point, Tommy had sat down, still playing along and swiping at his hands here and there. Tubbo seemed so excited to play with him, and that made him happy!

"Agere and petre can intersect, too. So he might just act childlike with kitten-qualities mixed in," Tubbo continued to explained. "There's also pet gear and little gear, stuff you use when you get into those headspaces. Do you have any of that, kitty?"

Tommy nodded a bit, reaching over and pressing on Wilbur's shoulder, as if telling him to follow as he stood up. He didn't like traveling on all fours all the time in kittenspace, and would only crawl short distances. Otherwise, he would just walk like he would usually. Maybe skip, if he was in a good mood.

Wilbur followed his nonverbal request, following the two teenagers to Thomas's bedroom. Tommy dropped to the floor next to his bed, Tubbo following suit. Tommy pulled out one of the boxes, Toby grabbing the other. "So what is pet and little gear for?" Wilbur asked, curiously.

"I'm sure Tommy will be willing to tell you more when he's up to talking," Tubbo's words earned a slight nod as the regressor opened the box. "But it's basically stuff to help you according to the headspace your in. Comfort items, childish things for littlespace, stuff to make you feel more like a pet for petre."

"Like cat ears or collars for kittyspace!" he added with a chuckle as Tommy pulled those items out of the box, waving them around as an example. His cat ears were all on headbands. He had white and orange ones, black ones with little ribbons, another set with little bells, he didn't know which ones he wanted.

Tubbo realized that his box was little gear, sliding it back under the bed and focusing on Tommy, who seemed happy.

He bounced in place a bit, very excited and playful now, despite being sleepy before. He was happy! When Tubbo believed that his friend might've been different, instead of judging him, he researched a ton and then jumped in to help him when he needed it. And Wilbur, who didn't completely understand what was happening, was still being supportive, just asking questions.

He thought that they were gonna weird about it, or judge him. But here Tubbo was, playing with him and answering questions for him because he understood his nonverbalism. "When will he be....not a cat, anymore?" Wilbur pondered.

"Depends. Regression can last a few minutes to a few days, who knows. But while he's like this, we should make him comfortable, don't ya think?"

Wilbur hummed a bit. He could ask more questions later, directly to his friend that actually experienced this stuff and would be able to tell him more. For now, he'd do his best to make Tommy comfortable, like Toby had said.

Tommy grabbed the cat ears with the bells, white furred ones with pink inside the ear, little pink bows and gold bells on them. He shook it in his hand, like a rattle, listening to the music it made. He made a squeak that sounded suspiciously like a "meow", before giggling. "Did you cat those ears, Tommy?" Wilbur asked, softly taking the headband from him.

Tommy pouted, nodding as the ears were taken from his very pa- hands. He wasn't actually a kitten, he had human hands. He giggled at his own thoughts, snapping out of it when he felt the headband slip onto his head. Wilbur adjusted it.

"There." he stopped after a second, looking him up and down. "You're adorable," he complimented. Tommy blushed, smiling. He looked back down to the box, pulling out a white choker, which had another pink ribbon in the front, with a larger, silver bell hanging from it. He immediately put it on, fiddling with the bell.

"Did you wanna change? There's some clothes in that box," Tubbo asked. As expected, Tommy didn't verbally reply, digging through his box and pulling out a white adult onesie, designed to resemble a real baby one. It was plain, with pink lining, obviously picked out to go with the choker and cat ears.

"Aww," Wilbur cooed, immediately. "You want the onesie, sweetheart?"

Tommy nodded a bit, also grabbing pastel pink shortalls. He might've been happy, and seemingly comfortable, but he was not walking around in just a onesie. "That'll look cute together," Tubbo approved of his outfit choice. Tommy grabbed a few more things from the box, either setting it in a pile, or holding it in his arms.

He left to go to the bathroom, pushing the box back under the bed and leaving without another word. "What all did he pull out?" Tubbo asked, looking to the pile with curiosity.

"A stuffed kitten," Wilbur stated, looking at the white stuffed toy. "It seems that he dressed up to look like this toy," he chuckled. Tubbo laughed, too. "Uh, there's a ball of yarn, and a little white ball?" he sounded curious, picking it up. Quickly, Wilbur realized that it rattled.

"Oh, he likes things that make sounds," Tubbo reasoned. "Rattles and bells. That's cute," Tubbo smiled. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, a pink scarf." Wilbur replied. "Does he just play with anything?" he laughed.

"Isn't that what actual cats do? They scratch at and play with anything in sight," Tubbo joked.

"Fair enough."

They kept talking until they heard shuffling by the door. There, stood Tommy, clad in his cute little, perfectly planned-out outfit. Just his presence earned coos from his friends, who immediately complimented him. "You look so adorable, kitten!" Wilbur said, motioning him over. Tommy approached them, dropping to his knees and hands when he got close to them, 'pouncing' across the carpet.

He giggled, returning to his previous sitting position next to his pile, grabbing the stuffed kitty. "You look just like your toy, y'know." Tubbo told him. Tommy smiled wide, as if he was proud of this fact, nodding quickly. He wore knee-high socks with his out, white and pink striped to match the rest of the outfit. It seemed he took pride in color-coordinated, cute outfits, unlike when he was in his usual headspace. He usually just threw on a baseball shirt and jeans.

"She kitty, and m' kitty too," he mumbled, speaking for the first time since entering his kitten space earlier that day. He didn't talk much in kittenspace, he always had to pull himself into an "in-between" headspace to do so, but he could if he wanted or had to.

"Aww, the kitty can talk. Yes, you are both very adorable kittens," Wilbur cooed from his spot next to the regressor, wrapping his arms around him. Tommy melted into the embrace, nuzzling the side of his face into the part of Wilbur closest to him, his arm.

Tubbo didn't interrupt their moment, waiting for one of them to speak. After a bit of silent cuddling, Wilbur spoke up. "How about we all move back to the living room and set up a little play area for you, yeah? I'll turn on some cartoon, and make some snacks, and we can have fun until bedtime. Does that sound nice, kitty?"

He swayed in place a bit, moving Tommy with him. Tommy nodded excitedly. "Snuggles," he mumbled when Wilbur pulled away from their hug, pouting. "Snuggle me! M' a cute kitty!" he giggled, pointing to himself. He scrunched his nose a bit.

Tubbo and Wilbur knew that the boy was very different off camera. Sometimes, he was still loud, and cursed a lot, but others, he was chill. And apparently, he could be soft sometimes, too.

"I have no doubt about that," Wilbur chuckled, tapping the button of his nose with his index finger, Tommy swatted at it, a bit confused on what to do next when he successfully got ahold of his finger. He put his other 'paw' around it too, dragging his hand to his mouth and biting on his finger.

Wilbur pulled back his hand quickly, shocked. "Bad kitten! We don't bite," he scolded, tapping his head lightly with his hand. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to let him know that he wasn't supposed to do what he just did. Tommy pouted again, his eyes immediately glossing over.

Again, he felt like he couldn't verbally apologize, to upset to pull himself out of headspace enough to talk. This frustrated him and only upset him more. He took the hand he had bit by the wrist, nuzzling his hand into it.

The main difference between Tommy in kittenspace and a real kitten is that he still had, at the very least, a child's level of emotional intelligence. Which meant that he was able to tell when people were upset with him. And he didn't like it when someone was upset with him.

He didn't have kitty teeth! Which meant that his bites hurt a lot more then a kitten's, he reasoned mentally. Wilbur was upset because he hurt him. Cuddles would make it all better, because cuddles made all boo-boos better, he decided.

"Oh, you're okay, baby," Wilbur assured, scratching at his scalp and playing with his hair again. "You didn't really hurt me," he said, as if he was able to read his mind. "You don't need to cry, little kitty."

Tommy kept nuzzling his hand, blinking away his unshed tears. Tubbo leaned close to Wilbur, whispering into his ear.

"Call him a good kitten."

Wilbur nodded, figuring that that made sense. Wilbur had reassured Tommy in every other sense, but he was still guilty. There was a good chance that his emotional response was to the term "bad kitten!".

"You're such a sweet, good kitten."

As predicted, his head perked up at that. He tilted his head, as if to ask 'really?'. "A very adorable, sweet baby kitten," Wilbur ran his fingers through Tommy's hair, his words and affection earning a smile from the pet regressor. "Let's gather up these toys and go set up in the living room, kay? Is there anything else that you need?"

Tommy nodded shyly, crawling over to the edge of his bed and pulling out the little box. He located a light pink plastic item, holding it up. "No more bitin'," he said, slipping the adult pacifier into his mouth. It only added to the childish look.

Wilbur and Tubbo smiled at him. Wilbur was glad that he picked the right cuddling position that somehow led to this, and Toby was glad that he did all that research over the past few weeks. And they were all glad they had planned this one week meet up.

They moved out to the living room, where they played and watched cartoons late into the night. The following morning, Tommy thanked the two of them for everything, and they had an honest conversation about it, telling them everything. How long he had been regressing, both for little and kitten space, how often he did it, when he got all the little and kitten gear.

Wilbur and Tubbo asked a ton of questions, and Tommy answered every single one. Over the next week, between streams and video-filming, Tommy would regress and let his friends learn more about little him, and kitty him. Who Wilbur and Tubbo started calling 'Tom-Tom', by the way.

Eventually, Wilbur would become Tommy's caregiver and handler, after babysitting him over discord calls many, many times. All thanks to that one week visit.

Tommy was so glad he ended up slipping that night, even if it was inconvenient at first. Everything worked out in the end, and he wouldn't change the events of that night if he could.

It all led to him being Wilbur's 'good kitten'.

A/N: let me know if you have requests for any agere/age dreaming/pet regression fics involving some of the DreamSMP members, lmk! I may not write it, due to not knowing to much about a specific youtuber or being uncomfy w/the prompt, but I always love hearing ideas! Please leave feedback/your thoughts on this in the reblogs/replies/my ask box too, I definitely would like to hear them! I hope y'all enjoyed, I spent a while writing this and I hope it makes *someone* happy!

-Apple

#TommyInnit #little!tommyinnit #kitten!tommy #dream smp petre #cg/handler!wilbur+tubbo #cg!wilbur #cg!tubbo #Dream SMP #age regression #kittenspace #pet regression #pet regressor!tommy innit #dream smp agere

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victoria-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Three: Budding Relationships

AN: Each chapter I post I gain more and more readers, and I thank you all!

Word Count: 3.7k

Trigger Warnings: violence, mention of hate crimes

Chapter Four: Enter Sebastian Shaw

Today we had the day off, since the teenagers proved to Charles and Erik they were not prepared to go along with them to ambush Shaw. So, I was once again approved as being the babysitter while Charles, Erik, and Moira go to Russia. I shook my head and chuckled at Erik's and I conversation before he left with Charles and Moira.

Erik laughed mockingly and clapped his hands together, "Are you sure you want her as a babysitter Charles? She did such a horrible job last time,"

Irritation filled me, and I glared daggers at him "Careful, Erik," I said with mock sweetness. "Or you'll find yourself crying like a spoiled two year old," I threatened.

He grinned boyishly despite my threat.

I was currently sitting on the couch with the others in an identical hangout room with another book in my hand. Except this one had a pinball machine, and overlooked a statueless courtyard. Plus, this room had all its windows. Angel, Hank, Raven, Sean, and I were all sitting on the leather couches. Honestly, it didn't surprise me when Sean sat with the girls and I, he just wouldn't give up. Alex and Darwin were playing on the pinball machines, and Alex was beating him rather badly.

"Jesus man, you are KILLING me." Darwin complained, as Alex focused intently at the pinball machine.

"Don't beat yourself up, I had a lot of spare time,"

Alex's last remark confused me. Hank had said that he'd been in prison for the last four years, and I don't think they gave their prisoners meaningless arcade machines. The thought quickly leaves my mind as I heard two CIA agents talking loudly.

"Oh, I didn't know the circus was in town!" an arrogant CIA agent caught my attention. "Hey, come on honey, give us a little uh..." doing a terrible impression of Angel's wings, I could hear her mutter 'no' under her breath, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. "No? Come on, let's see the foot," the agent jeered.

I could feel the anger starting to rise up inside of me, as I felt the happiness in the room subsided. Hank got up and walked to the button that closes the curtains.

"There it is, come on Big Foot. Let's go," Hank saluted the man mockingly, as the curtains closed."Hey, come on. Hey!" As Hank sat back down, the room fell silent, except the soft pinging of the pinball machine.

"They're just guys being stupid," Raven comforted, just realizing how much this actually upset Angel.

"Guys being stupid I can handle. Okay, I've handled that my whole life!" she snapped. "But I'd rather a bunch of guys stare at me with my clothes off than the way these ones stare at me!" Angel snapped again, disheartening Raven, who still wasn't completely over last night's events.

More silence.

"At us," Raven added sadly, Angel turned away guiltily, for lashing out on Raven, but there was no way she was going to apologize for it.

A flood of self-consciousness and self-loathing assaulted me, I tried to focus on my physical surroundings, rooting my thoughts enough to sort out my emotions and bring them under control. My hands balled into fists, my entire body tense. I brought my hand to my temple and massaged it with two fingers in an attempt to ease the pain.

Raven's soft voice called across from me, "Sorry, Claudia. Did we bother you?"

"Bother her?" Angel scoffed, voice dripping with attitude. "How could we have bothered her? She has an invisible mutation, no one could ever bother her,"

I forced a smile. Her attitude was merely an obnoxious mask for her fragile heart. I set my copy down of Jane Erye onto the table.

"You're right, Angel. The only thing I have to be bothered about is people wanting to see me swing from a tree," I quipped darkly. "And you know, gaining basic civil rights," I added, my eyes narrowed slightly.

Our bitter conversation is brought to an end by the abrupt sound of a thud coming from outside. We stared at each other in confusion before I stood up, sensing danger. We stayed still for a moment, listening to the thuds, there's silence and then there's a whooshing sound.

"This doesn't feel right," Darwin muttered, before striding over to the curtains and pressing the button to open them. Alex gives the pinball machine one last flick and then followed him. Outside, there was nothing. We gathered around the clear, glass window looked at each other, confused. I waited tersely, my eyes darting back and forth.

"Do you sense something, Claudia?" Raven asked.

"Something's wrong," I whispered, but only Raven heard me. She shot me a curious glance, but was stopped from saying anything by Alex.

"What is that?" Alex demanded, pointing at the black figures blocking the light of the moon.

The light made it only a silhouette, preventing us from seeing what it truly was, all we could see that a silhouette was holding up another silhouette.

And then it isn't.

I cried out in pain as I felt the fear and pain of a man dying strong in my mind. I tried to relax the man, but he was already dead. Just as I opened my eyes, a body came crumbling down to the ground and smashing instantly right in front of the window causing causing all of us to jump back in surprise. I let out a gasp as Angel and Raven let out a scream in horror, clutching tightly onto my arm. I heard more screams and felt more pain as more men started to fall from the sky.

Suddenly, the roof lights flickered on, the sky is littered with falling bodies crashing in various sights around the buildings, the sound of screams and smashing glass, filling our ears. Guards rushed out of the buildings, positioning themselves surrounding the window, blocking us from harms way. They signaled for us to move out of the way, as more attacks proceeded. I searched for the mind that kept killing the CIA agents, but couldn't seem to keep a right mind. Raven let out another scream as an agent tumbled from the sky and into the glass roof outside

Terror filled the room, seeping into my every pore.

"Get back! Get back! Do not leave that room, we are under attack!" A man without a gun shouted.

In a flash of flames, the red man dressed well in a suit appeared in a puff of smoke and we all screamed for the agents to turn around. Taking them by surprise. The guards taking a few moments for it to register before beginning to shoot at him. It was too late, he was gone.

The glass shattered as a bullet hit the window, and we rushed to duck behind the sofa, screams filled my ears. Darwin stood closest to the edge, his arms stretched out to shield us from the oncoming storm. A tornado appeared, swiftly making it's way around the other side of the building, ripping apart what Hank had called 'Cerebro'. I didn't want to watch Hank's pained expression, when he saw his hard work torn away, but I could feel Hank radiating sadness and frustration.

"Stay here, my ass!" Darwin shouted to us, making his way towards the door. Running out into the corridor, we were stopped by some more guards.

"GET BACK!" the agents screamed at us.

"We can help! We can help!" Darwin tried to plead, but we're just pushed back.

Deep down, I knew Darwin realized that we couldn't.

Raven's hysterical, a complete mess. I managed to calm her emotions down with my empathic powers, but she somehow overruled that and became anxious once more. A wave of heat hits me, followed by an immense explosion. Raven screamed as agents are sucked into the flames, and we run back to where we were. Met with more destruction, back into the room, the tornado was moving closer and most of the guards were dead, falling down, one by one. Raven sobbed louder and screamed again when an agent is launched through the only remaining window by the hurricane. I can't be the only person to notice that we've completely backed ourselves into a corner.

The red man stabbed the last agent and Raven whimpered. A good looking Spanish man and the one that closely resembled most people's portrayal of the devil, stepped over the window, entering the room, one on each side. We were closed in.

Someone fired another shot and Raven screamed again.

"Wait, wait! You want the mutants? They're right through that door! Just let us normal people go! We're no threa-" a muffled voice is cut off and Raven's face changed into one of disgust.

A helmeted man, who was easily in his forties, walked through the door. To be honest, he looked kind of stupid.

"Where is the telepath?" The man in the helmet asked, as if it were no big deal that they just killed hundreds of men.

"Not here," The devil looking man noted, you could tell who was in charge there and it definitely wasn't him.

"Too bad," The other man smiled. "Well, at least I can taking this silly thing off," he stated, pulling the helmet off and ran his fingers through his long hair, pushing it back into its place.

At least we agree on something, he does look entirely silly.

But how would that helmet protect his thoughts from a telepath like Charles? No one in the room could read his mind, but I could read his emotions and I knew that he was bad news, there was a danger radiating from him, anyone could feel that. My mind filled with the echoes of his thoughts tied to one specific emotion. Hatred. War, survival, the strongest race. He was thinking of things beyond what we were anticipating.

"Good evening," he addressed us. "My name's Sebastian Shaw. And I am not here to hurt you,"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, "Liar. Your little sidekicks just murdered a fleet of CIA agents," I thought.

A lone agent appeared across the courtyard.

"Freeze!"

"Azazel?" Shaw lazily ordered

He disappeared, appearing again outside, swiftly killing the man and teleported back.

Shaw turned back to us, "My friends," He took another step towards us, handing his helmet to the Spanish man. "There's a revolution coming, when mankind discovers who we are, what we can do. Each of us will face a choice: be enslaved, or rise up to rule," His eyes lingered on me for longer than I would have liked. But Shaw was not done yet. "Choose freely, but know that if you are not with us then you are, by definition, against us,"

"So. You can stay, fight for the people that hate and fear you. Or, you can join me, and live like kings," he looked to the boys, none of them attempting to make a move. Then he looked to Angel, standing in front of me. "And queens," He holds his hand out to her and Angel took it with almost no hesitation. I couldn't help sending her a look of pure disgust.

"Angel..." Raven's voice dropped in disappointment, although I didn't particularly like her, it didn't mean I wanted this to happen.

"You kidding me?" Sean's face dropped, he enjoyed flirting with Angel the most, but I never imagined he would be this crushed.

Angel looked back at us, "Come on," she commanded, gesturing towards us. "We don't belong here and that's nothing to be ashamed of,"

Darwin reached out to her, but Angel turned away, ignoring us.

"We have to do something," Raven insisted.

Alex and Darwin exchange a few harsh whispers. Alex pushed Darwin in the side and Darwin turned away.

"Stop. I'm coming with you," Darwin announced, stepping over what was left of the window. Angel smiled, clearly pleased someone had listened to her speech, even Shaw seemed momentarily pleased.

I watched in disbelief as Darwin moved towards the line of mutants. Shaw stepped towards him.

"Good choice. So tell me about your mutation," He said slyly.

"Well I adapt to survive," Darwin explained, Alex lead us into the center of the room. "So I guess that means I'm coming with you," Darwin finished.

Shaw nodded, "I like that," Shaw signaled for him to join Angel and Darwin stood next to Angel.

"ALEX!" Darwin yelled, forming a rock solid barrier and dipping Angel to protect her.

"Get down!" Alex shouted, shoving us out of harms way, sending rings of energy, launching at Shaw, Alex grinned momentarily before his face dropped.

We watched in horror as Shaw had somehow absorbed his energy. I raised my hand to send a telekinetic blast towards Shaw and that's when everything else became a blur, and before I knew it Azazel vanished, and appeared right in front of me within a blink an eye. His tail wrapped around my throat, I yelped lightly when my feet left the floor, kicking out blindly, but my five five frame wasn't really doing anything to stop this man who was nearly a foot taller than I was. I clawed at his tail so air could fill my lungs again, but it was a futile effort as he only tightened his grip

"Protecting your fellow mutants? That's a noble gesture," He shivered slightly, who wouldn't after absorbing that much power. Darwin got up, confused, and Angel moved back towards the Spanish man. "Feels good," Shaw shrugged his shoulders a little and let out a smirk.

"Azazel drop her," Azazel did as he was command, air filled my lungs but only momentarily. As soon as Azazel dropped me, Shaw's hand clasped around my neck, and brought me up off of my feet. I gagged on his choking grasp, my hands once again trying to claw it off my neck. "Now who's this?" Shaw wondered aloud a small sinister smile on his lips, his eyes scanning my body over.

The very air that he gave off was dangerous and intimidating. I mean that was obvious when he first walked through the doors, but it was made all the more clearer now that I was only inches from his face.

It was his eyes. Those eyes that looked right through me and held no warmth.

"Her name is Claudia," Angel spoke up. If Shaw wasn't choking the life out of me right now I would be livid with Angel telling him my name and for betraying us. "She can manipulate emotions, she could come with us," Angel suggested, with a rather large smile on her face.

"Yes, she could," Shaw agreed, nodding his head. "With your abilities, I'm sure you'll be very valuable to us. Your power is very interesting, Claudia," Shaw stated, and a shiver went down my spine when he said my name.

"No...it's not," I managed to utter out.

"Oh to me it is," Shaw disagreed, a menacing smile on his face. "With your abilities, I'm sure we'll be able to control anyone at will. We'll make an army. We'll be unstop-"

"No!" I hissed.

"What?"

"Go...to...hell!" I wheezed out.

"Hmm, it's too bad really, a beautiful woman like you..I saw so much potential in you," Shaw snarled gleefully, then swung his free hand, as it connected to the right side of my face, some of the energy from Alex's power thrown with it, causing me to see stars on impact. He threw me into the wall, my limp body collided with the drywall.

The room seemed to fade, leaving stars in my eyes and I felt my adrenaline crash, but surprising felt more energy than I ever had before.

Shaw turned sharply to Darwin. Darwin goes to throw a punch, but is quickly blocked. Shaw grabbed his mouth. "Adapt to this," Shaw whispered, and we watch, horrified expressions on our faces, as he puts all of Alex's energy into Darwin's mouth.

I watched as darkness slowly crept into my vision as Shaw, Azazel, the Spanish man, and Angel disappeared into a burst of flames. That's when I see Darwin standing there, convulsing.

Darwin tried to find different ways to adapt, but Alex's power was able to destroy the barrier. I watched him turn to platinum, then rock as the plasma burnt within, the orange-red glow peeking out of the rock like lava until he turned to solid rock. Then he realized it just wasn't going to work. He faced Alex and the rest of us, the blonde's eyes widened with terror, as he watched his new friend slowly die. Darwin looked over at Alex with black eyes, as he reached out, wordlessly and the stone started to break apart again. Then the cracks of Darwin's form brightened, and he exploded into only bits and pieces.

And just like that, he was gone forever.

Everyone all stood for a few moments in silence. Then the whole cataclysm sunk in, and everyone began scrambling around. Hank ran out the door saying he was going to find a first aid kit for me, Sean and Raven took baby steps towards where Darwin had diminished, and Alex rushed over to me, examining me. I already felt my face was swelling black and blue, a little shadow of blood remained under my head.

My vision was almost completed darkened, but my eyes met Alex's and in that instant, I knew how much he was hurting. He practically killed a man. Just as the thought crossed my mind, Alex spoke.

"H-He's gone. I k-k- I-I kill-killed him," Alex stuttered, his expression full of devastation.

"No, you didn't," I whispered, feeling even more drained as the seconds passed. "Trust me,"

"Claudia!"

I heard someone yell. But I couldn't tell who it was, for I slipped into unconsciousness and let the darkness envelope me before the person could call my name again.

~~~x~~~

When I awoke my body was no longer on the cold, hard ground of the rec room, but instead on the lumpy mattress I've become used to. Someone must have carried me. I managed to sit up a little less than an inch before my head started spinning and pain shot through my spine causing me to lie back down and gasp loudly.

Pain.

It's a slightly indescribable sensation; all one can really use is a mix of adjectives and synonyms, and even then one couldn't fully describe what they were feeling. Just what the pain feels like, using personifications and such. Right now, I felt like someone had beaten the tar out of me, which is what exactly happened. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to blink, it even hurt to think of even possibly moving again. I couldn't open my eyes, as they were held close with hard crust. I tried to push them open, but could only pry open my left eye, as the more I pushed myself in opening the right one, the more it hurt.

My brown orb peered around the room, my vision was still blurry. It was two o'clock in the morning if I read the time right. It had been fours hours since Darwin's death.

A tear rolled down my cheek, wiping it away. I couldn't tell if it was on my own volition or if I was just channeling everyone's emotions. I didn't want to cry, but I could no longer control it, when tears kept effortlessly sliding down my face. I looked through my tears, and I knew I wouldn't be sleeping for the rest of the night. I touched my head lightly, as I felt a long bandage wrapped around it. It was so sore, and gave little jolts of pain every time I picked up on someone's feelings.

I slowly slid out of the comforts of a bed that wasn't truly mine and let short, loud cry of pain as I moved. I stood up too quickly and a wave of dizziness hit me like a truck, causing me to plop back down onto the bed until it passed. I pushed myself up off the bed again and trudged to the door and into the hallway, I was put in a room at the end of the corridor that seemed to remain untouched by the events, I realized nobody would dare go back to our old rooms, they were just rubble and dust.

It was everywhere. The scent of burned flesh made my stomach turn, and the smoke stung my eyes. I felt sick to my stomach, but there was nothing to vomit. I could feel sweat trickle down the back of my neck, mixing painfully with the open wounds there, but I didn't close my eyes. My stomach was twisted into knots, and it was all I could do not to break down and cry. The pain from everyone else was what was kill me.

Fear. Anger. Despair. Disgust. Malice. Painpainpainpainpain-

I threw myself against the cold, concrete wall in effort to keep myself upright and placed my overheated forehead on the wall to ground me. I breathed deeply, my chest heaving and summoned up what little strength I had to push on.

I wandered more and I found an abandoned bathroom with shattered mirrors and glass coating the ground. I lingered in the doorway, not wanting to take the chance that I might cut my feet open on the shattered fragments. But one of the mirrors was intact, except for a slight, thin crack in the upper right hand corner. It was across from me and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. That in itself wasn't unusual, but it wasn't my face that stared back at me.

My hair was limp black and my eye a dull, muddy color. I stepped closer to the mirror, forgetting about the damned glass. And dear Lord, my face. I looked paler than usual and exhausted, worn out. Not to mention a god damn black eye.

I raked my fingers through my black hair to sort out the tangles, letting out a huff of air, a sardonic laugh escaped from lips.

"This is what I left the comforts of New York for? Death and destruction?"

Chapter Five: A Place to Call Home

#x-men fanfiction #black fanfiction #x-men fanfic #charles xavier fanfiction #charles xavier x oc #black!oc #magneto x oc #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr fanfiction #erik lehnsherr x oc #black!reader #x men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Text

Just Another One

Sequel to: ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’

Corpse Husband x Actress!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Mention of bad past relationships, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: They keep proving each other right in the most wrong ways possible. They each want to be guarded even if that means the other will be hurt. Maybe that’s what they want - to hurt one another because they’ve already hurt each other once before.

Requested by the lovely readers who enjoyed the previous fic ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’. Sorry for the large time gap between the posting of the two fics but I still hope you guys will take the time to read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love you all with all my heart, Vy ❤

When you go out of your way to avoid leaving the house your options of entertainment are severely limited and you can’t blame anyone or anything but yourself for it. Today, I wouldn’t have gone out of my apartment even if I was one of those people who frequent the outdoors seeing as how the sky is trying to flood the Earth with all this nonstop rain. It does set a mood for a perfect night in but when you spend all your nights in doing the same thing over and over again, the atmosphere is practically meaningless. And so I ‘ve decided to resort to channel surfing as though I’ll find something interesting on TV that I haven’t yet seen on one of my social media timelines.

I pass several cooking channels on my journey, making a mental note of their individual numbers in case I don’t stumble across anything capable of better distracting me from my boredom and loneliness that’s slowly starting to creep in. I pass by a few movie channels showing teenage romcoms as if to celebrate the start of summer so you can imagine how quickly I moved on from those. Then come the celebrity channels which can often get a laugh out of me because of how pathetic and unbelievably ridiculous they are. And so, I stick around one where there’s a broadcast on a movie showing that’s happening tonight in LA. Oddly enough, despite my anxiety, going to a movie showing has always been on my list of things I’d want to do. This can be considered living vicariously or rubbing salt into the wound that I’ll probably never go because my anxiety and fear of being recognized is too severe. Either way I stick around to watch it.

And man do I regret it now looking at several different angels of a couple of actors entering the venue where they are to be photographed and asked questions by the mob of paparazzi that’s gathered due to the massive event. That in and of itself doesn’t sound - and really isn’t - so bad. However, it’s important to note that the actress in this duo is Y/N. Y/N L/N. My Y/N....shit, sorry, I mean my FRIEND Y/N, her arm linked with whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is who is holding an umbrella above the both of them, shielding them from the downpour of rain that is also taking place in LA apparently.

“The two were seen entering the venue earlier this evening, looking particularly cozy in each other’s presence if I do say so myself. The rain probably worked nicely in their favor.“ The first reporter says, her teasing tone of voice sending chills of anger down my spine as I glare at the screen, hands balled in fists, jaw clenched - all my body’s instinctive reactions to what is being shown to me. I know I technically have no right to behave or feel this way, in fact I should be fucking happy for Y/N and her successful career and the progress in her love life. But damn it how can I?! I was so damn close to kissing this girl! I was so fucking close to falling in another trap, tripping and landing in the embrace of another liar and user, another girl who switches partners more often than shoes. How could I’ve been so reckless to get so close to her even platonically? How did we become close enough for me to 1) show her my face; 2) start inviting her over to my apartment regularly; and how didn’t I notice the kind of messed up person she was all that time.

She was all sweet and flirting and shit a week or so ago and now she’s doing the exact same thing with him! The cameras are capturing them perfectly: every laugh, every exchange of a knowing look or nod, ever smack to his arm when he tells a joke. But what bothers me most is the many times he’s wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. Not just for pictures, but just because the fucker felt like it! And Y/N doesn’t seem to mind it at all.

“They have been the talk of the town recently, so while they could just be adding fuel to the fire, they could also have been caught by the flame and ‘caught feelings’ as they say. Regardless these two are a view we’d like to see more often.“ The other reporter says and that’s the final straw.

In one swift motion I turn the TV off and throw the remote across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the ground in several pieces, broken by the force of the impact. Just like I am broken by the force of the impact of these news. I don’t know which is worse: the fact that I fell for her and almost let her know it; the fact that she’s just another member of the club I don’t want anywhere near my life; or the fact that I can’t believe it.

Yeah that’s right - one foolish part of me refuses to believe that’s she’d do such a thing. I think that’s the same part which is still in awe of her so you can bet I ignore that part the majority of the time.

She is just another one. Not the one. Having been hurt before doesn’t mean she won’t hurt me or anyone else she’s gonna be with. Hurt people hurt people.

And damn has she hurt me, probably without knowing a damn thing. How selfish can you be, Y/N? How selfish can you really get? And how much am I going to allow you to hurt me?

* * *

“Thank you so much, Andrew. I would’ve died on the spot of anxiety if I was on my own.“ I say to my best friend who is currently sitting next to me on a park bench, in a tux, eating a cheeseburger. I too am still in my gown and am also gorging on a cheeseburger of my own.

“Don’t mention it. Us anxious people need to stick together.“ He bumps his shoulder against mine, stealing a small genuine smile from me, “Plus I couldn’t not come with you. You know how much I like a good rumor.“

I scoff, “Of course you do, but then again there was no need to add to what the media has already made a whole-ass ship out of.” I roll my eyes and take another bite. My appetite hasn’t been in its best condition so I’m only eating this under Andrew’s orders. I have no idea how people can ship us romantically, he’s the definition of an older - and very bossy - brother to me. I wish I could tell each and every single one of those girls who hate me because I’ve ‘stolen their man’ that I’d most likely be their sister in law rather than man snatcher, seeing as how my relationship with Andrew is so sibling-like.

That’s because we’re too alike, no one gets that. People play the ‘opposites attract’ car more often than I consider rational. But then again when they see a couple like Andrew and I - who are basically the same person in different bodies - they suddenly think we’re super compatible. Trust me, we’re not. And everyone who’s been on set with us will tell you the same.

“What can I say...“ he shrugs, smirking at me, “I like the fun. I bet Becca doesn’t though.“

I can’t help but huff. Andrew is the only one I’ve ever openly expressed my frustrations with Rebecca to. He was super helpful on the subject, seeing as how he can relate - many partners of his have tried to use him, some of which even succeeded. He’s more than qualified to school me on the topic but it turned more into sharing bad experiences. One of which was that instance back at Corpse’s apartment.

“And neither does Corpse I suppose.“ As though he’s read my mind, he pokes the hurt spot, pouring salt in the wound causing me to visibly cringe as though the pain was physical - because it was, I felt it in my chest and in my gut, a sharp stab of guilt and regret.

Why did I let it come to that? Why did I let us get so close? How did I not think of the consequences?

“I don’t care if he does or doesn’t.“ My hand automatically reaches for the pocket of the jeans I’m not even wearing in search of a cigarette. Not that I’d be able to light one even if I had them on me - Andrew would smack it out of my hand before I could even take a single puff.

He has the audacity to laugh, “You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”

That’s all he needs to say really - that’s enough to make me feel seen and understood. Though that’s not always a good thing. I often times wish he couldn’t read me so well. Better said: I wish I didn’t let myself be so readable, you know. I’m just glad he’s the one who sees me because if it were anyone else they’d use this vulnerability of mine against me. I’m well aware that it’s a weakness, a really inconvenient one, but damn it I can’t get rid of it. I feel like I’ll be less human if I lose it. Everyone’s allowed to be vulnerable, some just are lucky enough to choose who they’ll be vulnerable around. I’m lucky enough to to have a choice, not so lucky in the people I choose to trust. Guess that’s not a luck thing, it’s just my inability to decipher whether a person is worth all the pain and torture of coming clean to them or not. So far many people have burnt me but two stick out in particular - Becca and Corpse. Corpse especially, which is the odd thing considering he hasn’t even wronged me in any way. At least not yet.

“Your phone’s vibrating.“ Andrew says, pulling me out of my overflowing head when he hands me my phone which I handed to him because of my dress’ lack of pockets.

“Thanks.“ I mutter through a sigh as I take it from him, checking the notification I’ve gotten.

My stomach drops: it’s a message from Corpse.

“Hey I saw you are in LA but we have a stream tomorrow, will you still be participating?“

Before I can reply, he sends me another message.

“I know you’re probably very busy but we get the most viewership on the streams when you’re in them so....“

I’ve probably been staring at my phone screen for longer than I thought since Andrew felt the need to make sure I was still breathing: “Hey, you ok? You look terribly pale.” I can barely hear him let alone reply. I can’t hear my own thoughts to know what to reply to him. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”

I’m scaring myself too, Andrew. I’m scared too. I’m scared of how broken my picker has become. I almost kissed this guy! I almost entrusted all my thoughts, hopes, wishes and goals to him! What the fuck was I thinking?! Well, at least I know what he was thinking about - viewership. Likes, subs, views, publicity. The more eyes on the stream the better for him and everyone else. I genuinely want to applaud him, no one has been so direct about using me before. I was in a relationship with Becca for almost a year before I accidentally found out what she had been doing the whole time. No one’s ever smacked me in the face with this much honesty. It’s bittersweet really.

I want to laugh, I want to cry, slap myself across the face, slap him...I want to do so much, but all I can do now is sit in silence and think of how I could be so stupid.

He’s just another one, how did I not see that? How do I never see it until it’s too late? Why is one part of me still screaming: ‘He didn’t mean it like that!’

AND WHY THE FUCK DO I WANT TO BELIEVE IT?

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