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amazonswin · 3 years ago

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Saudade: Chapter 3

Pairing: Duncan/Courtney (Total drama)

Word count: 1.3k

———

18:37 - Courtney, please call me back.

11:26 - I know, just call so we can talk about it

19:43 - I’m not mad. Can we please meet up to talk?

13:21 - Court..

Courtney looked down at the seemingly countless missed calls and messages. How could she even respond? Sorry I didn’t tell you I had your baby, I was a stupid sixteen year old? No. That wouldn’t fix anything. Duncan seemed to have his life together, maybe that should count for something. And Maelie. Maelie deserved a chance to know her dad. But would that do more harm than good? He wasn’t a good person before, and how could she possibly know if he had truly changed. Courtney couldn’t risk it. She needed to protect her daughter, and herself.

She had barely realized it was time to take lunch. The usually busy office was silent as she walked out. The last thing she expected to see behind the door was him.

“What are you doing here?” Courtney looked around, making sure no one would witness their conversation.

“You wouldn’t answer my calls and we have to talk about this.”

“You cannot be here and you definitely cannot make a scene. Imagine what they’ll say about me…”

“I’m not here to make a scene, I just want to talk.”

“Fine, but not here.” Courtney walked off, with Duncan not far behind.

The park was within walking distance, but far enough away that she was sure no one would overhear. Aside from a few parents with their children, it was rather empty anyway. Courtney used to be sure that she knew everything, but she had no idea how to have this conversation.

“So why did you hide it?” Duncan was sick of beating around the bush. He wanted, he needed, answers.

“I was sixteen and pissed off” She sighed, “I was perfect, I made sure my life was perfect and worked very hard to keep it that way. And then came you. You were my complete opposite and I hated you. But I also was in love and I was crazy. Extremely crazy. But, hey, I had you.”

She took a deep breath and looked up before continuing.

“Until I didn’t… you cheated and left. To make it worse it was with someone who I had the audacity to consider a friend. I had no one. Then I lost the stupid show and had nothing. I went home a loser and a failure. I had to face my parents that way, face the world that way. Once settled I noticed something was different, I was… off. With the stress and the depression, I didn’t think much of it. By the time I found out it was too late. Not that I wouldn’t have kept her… I honestly don’t know what I would have done. I’m grateful I didn’t have to make that choice. The right thing was to tell you, I knew that. But I couldn’t, after all you did to me? I wanted you to hurt, to suffer like I did.”

Duncan couldn’t look at her. He knew he hurt her, but he never really considered how much.

“A few months in, I knew I had to tell you. But by then no one knew where you were. I gave up even trying. I was selfish and horrible, and I know that now… I really do wish I could change it. But I can't…”

“I know I hurt you, and god I wish I could change that. But it doesn’t matter. We had a baby and you didn’t tell me. I deserved to know. And I deserve to know her.” Duncan tried to control his temper, but who could blame him for being mad? It was his kid. And he didn’t even get to know.

“Duncan, I’m sorry…”

“I want to meet her. I want to be involved.”

“I can’t let her get hurt.”

“The only one hurting her is you. She deserves a dad, and you kept that away.”

“Duncan…” Courtney felt helpless, she knew he was right. But was she really willing to risk it? No. There had to be conditions, she had to protect Maelie. “Fine. An introduction. But there needs to be terms.”

“Are we really going to negotiate this? I have the right to meet my child.” Duncan had enough, he wasn’t going to let this stay hidden any longer. He couldn’t.

“It’s the only way we both get what we want. You meet her, I keep her safe. You agree or I can’t let it happen.”

“Fine.” He reluctantly agreed. He had to and he knew it. “So what are these terms?”

“You can meet, but only as my friend. No mention of you being her dad, not yet.”

***

Courtney’s house was exactly as Duncan expected. Clean cut neighborhood, white picket fence. His motorcycle turned more than a few heads as he rode in. She opened the door before he even had the chance to knock.

“Quite the place you got here.”

“It’s nothing much… Here come in” Courtney moved aside to let him in.

You could hardly tell someone in their twenties lived here. It was too formal, not a single thing seemed out of place. Even for Courtney, this seemed a little too adult. He questioned if it was her taste at all.

“This is a really nice place. How much did it cost ya?” He joked.

“Ha. Well as absent as they were, my parents do at least financially provide.” One of the few things the pair had in common was crappy parents. Though he really couldn’t compare his constant fighting to hers never being there. The two bonded over it early in their relationship, but Duncan figured as Courtney got older it may have got better. Looks like it didn’t.

“So they bought this?”

“Yep. Along with most everything in it.” Courtney had of course protested their decisions, but at least they were somewhat involved. They hardly came over anyway, just the occasional holiday. “Except Maelie’s room, that’s all her” She smiled. Courtney hardly changed much around the house, but once she turned six Maelie demanded a room full of pink. There was no talking her out of it.

“Where is she anyway? It’s awfully quiet for a kid.”

“Oh, she had some lessons after school. Her friend’s mom offered to drop her off, so should be here any minute now.” Courtney hated how awkward this was. Maybe she could talk about Maelie’s violin lessons? That was a skill she was more than happy to pass on. But bragging didn’t seem like the best option. So waiting was the only thing to do.

Finally a knock caught her attention. Courtney quickly answered and made some polite small talk with the mom. Given the age difference and her constant work schedule, she never found much in common with the other mothers. She tried her best for her daughter’s sake, but despised every moment of it.

Duncan was shocked at the sight of Maelie. She looked just like Courtney, the same light brown skin and scattered freckles. The only difference was her big, striking blue eyes. There was no denying that she was his daughter, and he loved her already.

She set her bag down before slightly hiding behind her mom, “Mommy, who is that?”

Courtney squatted beside her to be more eye level, “This is Mommy’s friend, Duncan. He’s going to join us for dinner, okay?”

“Okay..” She responded as she moved a bit closer to him, “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Duncan.” Maelie reached her hand out, giving Duncan’s hand a rather firm shake. “My mom says that a good handshake creates a good first impression. Otherwise they’ll walk on you” She shrugged.

He laughed, “Well with that shake, no one will walk on you.” With that it was clear she was the perfect mix of the both of them. Of what they could have been.

#total drama #td #td courtney #total drama island #total drama world tour #td duncan #td duncney #duncney #duncan x courtney #fic #duncney fic

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inseongsfoxybae · 4 years ago

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Two is better than one

Threesome: Boyfriend Juho + Female reader + Best Friend Rowoon

Genre: Smut 🔞

Warnings: Threesome, dom!Juho, dom!Rowoon, sub!reader, oral (female receiving), face fucking, rough sex, a bit of overstimulation + after care

Words: +1,7k

Requested: Could you do a threesome with ZuWoon? 🥺 Smutty if possible 🙊 Got this idea from Hannah's HwiTae smut fic, but I want it with ZuWoon . Like I can't even begin to imagine how rough they would be and the competition to try and impress the girl 😳🥵

Author’s message: Hey, babe! I’m sorry it took so long and I guess it ended up a little different from your request, but I still hope you like it. If you don’t, let me know and I’ll write something new especially for you. Foxy kisses 😘

P.S: As english is not my mother language, it may contain misspelled. Also, sorry for any other mistakes :)

Synopsis: Juho invites his frustrated single best friend to join a sex session with you.

As the boys were all busy with their drama schedules, Juho invited you to spend a night with him at the dorms, so you could have some time just to yourselves. You ate together and watched a romcom before heading to his bedroom to listen to the new songs he was working on before sleeping.

One of the beats were a bit sexy and slow and Juho confessed he produced it thinking of the way your body moves against his when you make love. The soft mood ended here, as you ran your fingers through his dark locks and pulled him closer to you, kissing him hungrily.

You roughly made out in the middle of his bed, your clothes quickly being taken away from your bodies as your mouths moved in a violent pace and your hips got closer, grinding sexualy against each other.

Juho lips detached from yours and traced a wet trail down your skin, reaching for every sweet spot on your body. You breathed heavily at the way he was taking you, going lower and lower over your breasts and stomach, until find his way to your wet folds, licking a long strip up your throbbing pussy.

His hot mouth attached to your clit as his hand teased your entrance, slowly pumping two fingers in and out of you. You were desperately moaning his name already, pleasurable curses filling the dorm as you had left the door opened, the sound of your squelching pussy mixing with your own noises.

Both of you were so lost in that moment that of you heard the beep of the door and a stressed Rowoon entering the dorm. You barely had the mind to realize that he followed your moans and watched the forbidden scene of you being hungrily devouring by your boyfriend from the doorframe.

“You can at least close the door, you know?”, Rowoon commented with a dark look on his face.

Juho suddenly stopped his suckings and fingers onto you and turned to his friend with shocked eyes, not knowing what to say or do. You covered your burning face with your hands, desperately wanting to disappear.

“I swear to God… I came home after an exhausting day hoping that I can just plop on my bed and sleep for hours, and what I find? A eager couple fucking with the door open!”, Rowoon said, visibly annoyed by the two of you. “Thank you for remind me that I don’t have a girl to fuck in my room now, Baek Juho”, he scoffed, barely glancing at the tent growing in his pants now.

“Oh!”, Juho exclaimed, considering something in his mind before looking down at you. “Y/N, I think we owe apologies to our friend”, he took away your hands from your face.

“Sorry, Rowoonie”, you shyly apologized, not being able to look at him.

“Do it properly, babe. Look at him and say the words”, Juho said, slightly grasping your chin and turning your head to look at Rowoon.

Your eyes landed on his hard dick pressed under his pants and you immediately shut them, mumbling a low “oh my gosh”.

“You know what, Y/N? It’s been a while since I wanna try something new with you and I think this is the perfect timing”, your boyfriend pointed with a lustful tone. “The three of us… Let’s do it”.

“Wh-what?”, you nervously stuttered.

“Think this way, honey. You can have two dicks instead of one, you can take a look at paradise. What do you think?”, Juho suggested, staring needy at you as you felt wetter with every sentence he had spoken, slowly nodding.

“Are you up, right, Seokwoo?”, he asked his friend that was still observing you in the room. “As you don’t have a girlfriend to fuck, I’ll let you fuck my baby tonight. You okay with it?”

Rowoon stared down at you, that was finally looking at him, feeling aroused by the idea of being taken by two big men in one night. He realized you were not shy anymore and that you were willing to take all of him, his dick twitching inside his trousers, begging to have attention.

He didn’t answer anything, just took his shirt off and unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down his long legs on a swift motion, his full hard dick springing free and red. Your mouth watered at the stunning view before you, teeth biting your bottom lips as you struggled to not squeeze your legs together.

Juho moved out between your open legs and kneeled beside you as Rowoon stopped at the edge of the bed, sinfully looking down at your exposed body. You locked your eyes with his, encouraging him to touch you. Rowoon glanced at his friend, who quickly nodded as one of his hands wrapped around his shaft to keep it hard.

You felt the large hands of your guest shyly running over your stomach at first, barely getting closer to your breasts. When you shivered under his touch and a small moan fell from your lips, he got the courage to cup your breasts on his hands to slowly massage them, his digits teasing your hard nipples, his eyes attentively watching your face expressions.

“Touch her pussy”, Juho groaned beside you, his fist working hard on himself.

Rowoon didn't waste any more time, his long fingers touched your throbbing clit, feeling the wetness dripping from your aching pussy. You left a loud moan fell from your lips as your hands grabbed the sheets under you desperately.

"Do you like that?", Rowoon asked, touching you roughly.

"Fuck, yes!", you whined, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Do you wanna know how good my dick can make you feel too?", he teased, rubbing his swollen tip against your folds.

"Please", you loudly moaned, already feeling so high due to his dirty touches. "Fuck me".

Your friend glanced at Juho, who was getting lost in pleasure as he desperately jerked off. Their eyes met for a second and both of them smirked, knowing exactly what they wanted to do with you.

"Ass up, babygirl", Juho groaned to you, guiding your face to the level of his desperate dick, watching his best friend adjusting his position behind you. "Are you ready for us, Y/N?".

"Yes'', you whimpered, wiggling your butt before Rowoon while gazing up to meet Juho's eyes. "Just fuck me".

"Of course", was the last thing you heard your boyfriend say before pushing himself into your parted lips, his tip almost reaching your throat. At the same time, you felt Rowoon penetrating you, his thick girth stretching your wet tight walls until being buried-deep inside you.

They kept still for a while, just filling you, the three of you pulsing. Juho's hands roamed through your hair and neck, Rowoon's traveled up and down your back.

Your boyfriend was the first one to move, bucking his hips against your face, setting a steady pace in and out your mouth. Right after, your guest started to thrust into your hole, deep and hard, holding you close by your hips.

Both men were going rough with you. Juho mercilessly fucked your face as Rowoon did the same with your pussy, the sound of their balls slamming against your sweaty skin mixed with your desperate choked cries.

Your tears joined the drool that escaped from the corners of your abused mouth. Behind you, the violence of Rowoon’s thrusts was getting you sore already and you clenched helplessly around him, making the tall man groan as he slapped your butt cheeks.

“Your mouth feels so good around me, babe”, Juho suddenly moaned before you, his movements getting sloppy as he was near his orgasm. “Will you swallow all my cum, babygirl?”, he asked, tilting your head up to look at him.

You blinked in response, feeling his dick twitching before pouring his hot load down your throat. You made sure to swallow all of him, gasping for air when he finally pulled out and collapsed on bed, trying to catch his breath as well.

While your man took some rest, your friend kept his merciless work on you, your now free screams filling the whole room. Now, his fingers harshly rubbed your clit as he set an unforgiving pace into you, pushing you over the edge when your orgasm hit you like a truck. Rowoon quickly pulled out and cum all over your back and butt, thick white lines painted your soaring skin.

He moved to the side and plopped on the bed by your side, your face buried into the mattress as you were too exhausted to move a single muscle.

“How was that?”, Juho broke the silence when all your breaths normalized.

“Wow”, that was all Rowoon could say, making your boyfriend chuckle. “Thank you for this”.

“Baby, are you okay?”, Juho asked you, carefully turning your tiny body around, a weak chuckle falling from your sore throat as you were still unable to open your eyes.

“It feels so good”, you simply murmured, knowing that the two men grinned at your comment.

You slowly opened your eyes and smiled at the beautiful guys before you.

“It proves that two is better than one, I guess”, you teased and the three of you burst into laughter. “It was great, boys. But, now, let me sleep”.

“Wait. We need to clean you up first, lazy girl”, your boyfriend said, trying to pull you out of the bed with him.

“I can’t move now”, you mumbled, half awake, half asleep.

“Okay, I’ll get a wet cloth and clean you myself”, Juho insisted.

“No, let me do this. I made the mess, I clean it”, Rowoon left the bedroom and came back seconds later with a wet cloth and a glass of water for you.

You drank the water and let him clean you up, quickly dozing off on your boyfriend’s chest. You could barely make out Rowoon pecking your hand and thanking you one more time and Juho slowly kissing your temple as he caged you in his arms to sleep. You barely realized the small smile on your face when you were already sleeping, feeling amazed by what just happened tonight.

#kpop writings #sf9 writings #sf9 imagines #sf9 scenarios #sf9 smut #sf9 zuho #sf9 rowoon #anon request

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queenofbaws · 4 years ago

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50 tropes and cliche promps: #48 crashley gooooooooo!

(another message from me, your friendly neighborhood writer: NO ONE is immune to “dusty inbox prompt” syndrome. no one. also, this is PART 2 of a 2-part fic, and you can find PART 1 here on tumblr and ao3!) ---

Whoever came up with the old saying that time healed all wounds was welcome to fight her in their arena of choice. It probably wouldn’t be an especially entertaining match, and definitely not an impressive one, but all she wanted was to get one good solid pop to their nose to drive the point home. ‘No!’ she’d say, not entirely unlike someone scolding a puppy after finding a puddle of pee on the floor, ‘Bad! Wrong! That’s not how it works!’

And it wasn’t—it wasn’t how it worked. If that had been how things worked, then the past week or so would’ve done something to numb the embarrassment poking away at her stomach and chest whenever she caught sight of her phone or (God help her) Chris himself. If time healed all wounds like that stupid saying went, then she wouldn’t feel her heart clench every time her text tone went off.

Cripes, she was a moron. Just an absolute moron.

Ashley rolled from her stomach to her side, from her side to her back, and stared up at the shadows playing across her ceiling. Her first impulse was to check the time on her phone, but…no, absolutely not. She was starting to develop an actual psychological aversion to the stupid thing—move over Pavlov, no bells needed; just leave a girl to her own devices and watch her develop a fear of her…own…devices.

Ugh. It was too late for this crap. She was mixing her metaphors (and probably her watershed psychological experiments, to boot).

Instead of going for her phone she grabbed the clock she still kept on the bedside table as a backup alarm. 2:06, blinked its sickly green readout, not quite the witching hour, but definitely way past her bedtime. She should’ve been asleep hours ago, really, especially considering her recent habit of doing unbelievably idiotic things in the middle of the night. Obviously there was some kind of short going on in her brain, a shutdown of her critical thinking skills once midnight came and went, so what she needed to do was just close her eyes and slow her breathing and think happy thoughts that had nothing to do with how abysmally she’d failed the other night, and—

Her phone started ringing.

She sprang up with a horror movie gasp, staring at the thing as though it were some poisonous insect perched on her desk, buzzing and chirping and preparing to flap its leathery wings and take flight…and as soon as she was done grappling with the eye-rolling levels of English major bullshit that thought had revealed within her heart of hearts, she grabbed it.

Chris Hartley

Incoming Call . . .

Great. Great! Fantastic. Why not? Why wouldn’t he be calling her at two in the fricking morning just as she was bemoaning her inability to talk to him like a human being? It made too much sense, really, just proof positive that the universe had it out for her. But…but oh crap, wait, why was he calling her at two in the fricking morning?! That wasn’t something most people did unless something was wrong!

…or if they were trying to leave pathetic love confessions on someone else’s voicemail, but suffice it to say she didn’t really think that was something Chris would ever do, so…

“What’s wrong?” she asked after swiping to answer the call, pulling her lip between her teeth before releasing it again just as quickly, grimacing from the sting of how raw she’d left it after a week of worrying. “Are you okay?”

“I, uh…okay, wow, so first off, hi Ash. Nice to hear from you too. How’s your day been? Mine’s been strange, I’ll admit, but I mean other than that…”

Two in the morning and he was going to insist on being a wise guy, huh? Yeah. This is what she deserved. “Hi Chris,” she answered flatly, all but collapsing down into her pillows again, “My day could be vastly improved by you explaining why you thought it would be fun to give me a frigging heart attack in the middle of the night, but other than that, yeah, sure, it’s been fine.”

“Oh, so you’re allowed to call me in the middle of the night for hardcore Zelda speedrun strats—”

“Is that what I did?”

“—but when I want to just shoot the breeze and catch up—”

“Chris, we had lunch together like twelve hours ago.”

That seemed to stymie him for a second. “Uh, well, a lot can happen in twelve hours, Ash. Maybe I have hot goss I want to debrief you on.”

She waited for a beat, and when no such hot goss was forthcoming, cleared her throat. “…and?”

“…and okay, that’s not actually why I called.” Nooo, she wanted to say, rolling her eyes at him instead of herself that time, You don’t say. “I actually, uh…okay, this is kind of embarrassing, I kinda need…a favor…”

“At two a.m.”

“At two oh nine a.m., actually.”

She pulled her phone away from her face just long enough to check the time, then rolled her eyes again. The butterflies in her stomach were still going for it, just flapping those wings of theirs, but at least most of the dread had melted away by then. “I don’t think I can give you any ‘hardcore Zelda speedrun strats’ of my own, but like, I can try, I guess. What’s up?”

It was right about that time she realized she was hearing something else on Chris’s end of the call. She tried to strain her ears to pick up what it was; it was sort of a rustling, but it didn’t sound like fabric…and it was sort of a whistling but it didn’t sound like another voice. She liked to believe she would’ve put two and two together if she had another minute or so, but when Chris spoke up again it all came together on its own.

“So…someone who shall remain nameless may or may not have found himself locked out of his dorm upon returning from a very long night of coding in the library.”

“Oh my G—again?”

“And this person who shall remain nameless may or may not also have a roommate who went home to spend the long weekend at his family’s fancy vacation home in the mountains, so there’s no one to let him in.”

Ah, the curse of talking to Chris struck again: Despite herself, she was laughing. “Are you outside?! Go talk to the RA! They have extra keys, don’t they?”

“Oho, but therein lies the rub! It would appear the RAs have also gone home for the long weekend, leaving this unnamed person to wander the streets alone in the middle of the ni—”

In a flash she was out of bed, tugging a hoodie on over her pajamas. “Are you serious?! You’re just like, what? Haunting campus like some kind of spooky ghost?”

“Nonono, oh good Christ no, Ash. What do you take me for?” He scoffed for a moment, snickering and chuffing and making all manner of indignant noises before clearing his throat. “I’m haunting your dorm like some kind of spooky ghost.”

“Chris.” Her lanyard was in her hand as she slipped her sockless feet into her shoes.

“Wh-wh-where else was I supposed to go, Ash? You tell me that! No Josh, no RAs, we both know Brad goes to sleep at like eight-thirty like a good little boy, so where does that leave me?” He didn’t leave her any time to respond. “Outside your dorm. Standing around like a creep. Do you know two people have come up to me asking where they can buy weed? They asked me that—me! Do I look like someone who knows where and how to g—”

Over the course of his (endearing) ramble, Ashley had made her way down the stairs to the side door they always used when visiting. She could see him there though the glass door, his back to her with his phone held up against his ear, and there was a moment—a long, terrifying moment—where realization sank its claws into her guts. For a breath she lingered there on the bottom step, thinking of the things she’d done wrong the last time, how badly she’d mucked everything up…and then she pulled the door open and stood in the jamb, clearing her throat until he turned around.

She raised and lowered her eyebrows, making a grand show of hanging up on him. “Hey, so just curious: What, pray tell, would you have done if I didn’t answer the phone?”

He flashed her a look then, one that was equal parts disbelief and mischief, and gratefully shuffled past her into the stairwell. “Oh come on, who do you think you’re fooling—you always answer the phone.”

“Not always,” she said, hoping the tightness in her throat was just something she was imagining and not something he could hear.

“Uh, yes always,” he shot back, already heading up the stairs as he had so many hundreds of times before, clearly just as comfortable in her building as his own.

Only when it’s you, dum-dum, you ever consider that? the nagging voice in the back of her head answered, but she kept her mouth shut and hurried up the stairs to match his pace instead.

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, nor did she have any delusions of it being the last; even before they’d left home for school it was a common enough occurrence to have the guys show up for an impromptu sleepover, usually bearing snacks and (in Josh’s case) a stack of movies each more horrible than the last. There were no snacks being offered now, though, as she swiped her keycard and let him into her room, and no movies either. Really there was nothing but her phone weighing like a brick in the pocket of her hoodie and her heart lunging up into her throat and, worst of all, that stupid voice in her head chiding her over and over again that she was being so, so dumb.

She was only vaguely aware of Chris talking as she slid her shoes back off and latched the deadbolt, and while she nodded and smiled in all the appropriate places, she really wasn’t hearing a word. How could she? How could she, when the only thing on her mind was how cowardly she’d felt for not being able to tell him over the phone, for not being able to leave a frigging voicemail?! If she hadn’t been able to do either of those things, then how on Earth—

Chris was looking at her. Crap.

“Sorry?”

“I said,” he said again, repeating himself slowly and painstakingly, clearly teasing her, “I thooought yooou weeere plaaaying Ocaaariiinaaa ooof Tiiime. I don’t see your N64 anywhere—you finish already? Man, you really did just need that wallet, huh?”

“I like you.” It was out of her mouth before she could think about it, bursting forth like one of those awful, wriggly little chestbursters from the Alien movies. “A lot.”

The look on his face suggested she’d just thrown a bucket of cold water on him, not bared her soul, and what the heck was she supposed to do with that?! “I…like you too…?” Chris glanced around the room, maybe checking whether or not he was on Candid Camera, maybe expecting to find Ashton Kutcher hiding in a corner, who knew. “Stop me if I’m wrong here, Ash, but uh…I think ‘liking’ is sort of the bare minimum requirement for this ‘friendship’ thing we’ve been doing for—”

“No, I…” Oh this was a bad idea. This was such a bad freaking idea. “I like you,” she repeated, hands knotting together in an anxious ball inside the pouch of her hoodie. “Like, I like-like you.” Perfect. Eloquent. Truly on the path to becoming a poet laureate at that rate. It became impossible for her to hold his gaze, so she dropped her eyes to the ground, where they felt safer. “And I have for a long time? Like, a really, really long time. And I…I was trying to say something about it the other night but I totally chickened out, and I’ve had about…nine million chances to say something else since then but I just keep totally chickening out, and now I’m realizing as I hear this all coming out of my mouth that this isn’t really, y’know, ideal timing on my part, and wow, okay, I’m just making this more and more awkward with every word I say, but now that I’ve started talking I’m having a whole lot of trouble stopping, and…” As though that had been the magical passphrase, her words caught in her throat, effectively putting an end to that humiliating rant.

The room felt very, very quiet.

Unbearably quiet.

Horribly.

It came back to her in a rush, why she’d kept backing out at the last minute: It always worked out in the Hallmark movies, sure, but life wasn’t a Hallmark movie, and eventually she was going to have to look up, was going to have to see the expression on Chris’s face, and already she could feel her entire body locking up to steel itself for the inevitable rejection…

Which was probably why it took her a full second longer than it should’ve to understand he was kissing her. Well, okay, trying was maybe the operative word there—he was trying to kiss her. There was a moment right between the kiss itself and her looking up where there was clearly some kind of miscommunication, because their foreheads knocked together in a distinctly less than romantic way before they managed to calibrate how the whole thing was supposed to work…and then, okay, then he was kissing her.

It took her brain another second to process that was what was happening, but then she was kissing him back, her weight rocking to the balls of her feet to make up for her height, her hands too nervous, too uncertain to do anything but stay safely tucked away in the pocket of her hoodie though his had moved to cup her face, and…and…and Chris was kissing her.

That was when the giggles started. First her, then him, then both of them, the kiss giving way to a bubble of nervous laughter that somehow managed to be just as sweet.

“I, um,” Chris cleared his throat, and she was more than a little exhilarated to see he’d gone red as a tomato. “I, uh, like-like you too. A lot-lot. If that wasn’t, uh…just made…obvious.”

That only made the giggles worse, honestly, and while she still wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, she finally pulled them from out of her pocket. “It was,” she laughed, cautiously setting her palms on his shoulders. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted to do (namely throw her arms around him like the windswept heroine of a romance novel), but she thought it would do for now. “I mean, what you just said was dumb, but like, you made your point.”

His eyebrows shot up, an obvious attempt to play off his own glee as part of a bit, and he joked, “Oh, what I said was dumb, huh?”

“A little.”

“Uh huh. Okay. My heartfelt admission was dumb, but yours—”

That time she was the one doing the kissing, her hands sliding further and further up until they linked behind his neck to pull him closer. The last of her butterflies began to calm, her chest instead filling with the warm, fuzzy feeling she’d imagined tens of hundreds of times before, and she found herself glad for the first time that week that she’d chickened out on that phone call.

As it turned out, face-to-face was definitely the way to go.

#until dawn #until dawn fanfiction #until dawn fic #chrashley #love-fireflysong #chris hartley #ashley brown #queenie writes supermassive #my fanfiction

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gypsydanger01 · 4 years ago

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THE STORM - Part six

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x Reader

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

Posting new chapters every Wednesday and Friday!

Getting to know you

While a certain member of the Seven entertained violent thoughts at the upper levels, Sarah sat at her desk filing papers. To be honest, she was studying more than she was doing her job, but there wasn’t much of a workload anyway. Keeping her textbook laid flat against her knees, she quickly went through the lines of text before typing away at her computer for a few minutes.

Martha was perched on her desk reading through some folders.

“You do know you’re not fooling anyone, right?”

Sarah sighed and finished the paragraph she was reading on molecular recognition.

“I know,” she conceded, before defending herself. “At least I’m doing something constructive.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and shot, “Look at Sierra, over there.”

Her friend moved naturally, looking over at the clock while noticing the young woman taking a string of selfies with her coffee. Martha grimaced, shaking her head.

“No girl, just no.”

“I know.”

“Someone needs to tell her, she won’t stop.”

Sarah laughed, “She’ll learn someday.”

Checking the clock herself, she found herself growing hot. She pressed her sweaty palms into the wood surface of her desk, letting her legs stretch out underneath it. Her fingers twitched slightly, and she masked her unease by bringing her hand back to her mouse, clicking away at the screen.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Sarah made a noncommittal sound, not letting her eyes move away from the screen in front of her.

“You look...” Martha trailed off before finding the right word, “squeamish.”

“Well that sounds lovely. Just what I like to hear.”

Martha sighed, her eyes narrowing at her friend. “You know I worry. You sure everything’s okay?”

The sight of Black Noir occupying her couch was seared into her mind. She could no longer hide. She could only face it and be smart about the information she disclosed.

Her friend was still watching her, and Sarah finally pushed away from the desk.

She pushed her glasses back up and, pinching the bridge of her nose, she bowed her head down.

With her hair falling around her face in soft curls, she murmured, “I’ve made a contact.”

Martha immediately put her papers down and turned to fully face her. “What do you mean?”

“Someone reached out. It’s dangerous, but it could be very rewarding.”

“Who is it?”

Sarah looked around and brought her hands back to the keyboard.

“I really can’t say.”

At Martha’s pointed look, she further explained. “I really can’t tell you. It’s someone—,” she wasn’t sure how she could describe Black Noir without giving it away. “It’s just someone really high up. Lots of info.”

“Oh my gosh, it’s B.N. isn’t it? You said he made contact.”

Sarah shrugged. “Maybe.”

Martha stared at her for a few moments before accepting her friend’s silence.

“Just be careful, okay?”

Sarah nodded, “You know I am.”

Her friend shook her head. “I know you are, but we’re getting closer. Things could get hot.”

The room grew even louder and more boisterous as lunch time rolled around. Sarah proceeded to close the files she’d been working on.

“Oh, and you’ll have to tell me all the deets, understood?”

The young woman laughed, wondering deep down if she’d be able to tell her anything at all. The dead don’t speak.

“I’m ready for lunch, let’s go find Annika.”

The hours after lunch were spent worrying and suffocating that same preoccupation with fool-proof schemes. It was an endless cycle, really. Every time she found a flaw in her set of questions, it sent her spiraling into self-doubt. Could she truly pull this off?

She was more and more convinced that he hadn’t been sent by Vought, simply because he was a trained assassin who didn’t need these long and ambiguous methods to extract the information he needed. He was more than capable of inflicting mind-blowing amounts of pain. And pain always loosened the tongue.

So maybe he wasn’t doing this for Vought. Maybe his fixation and stalkerish tendencies towards her could be chalked up as misguided and genuine. In that case, he was still a dangerous wild card since she wasn’t who he thought she was. If he’s truly loyal to the company, her identity might prove to be an issue.

And so, it went on and on. She went through potential questions she could ask, and questions she should steer clear of. She recalled all the tips and tricks Mallory had taught her, from the phrasing of the questions, to the body language she should maintain. The goal was to ask a series of common questions and sparsely slip an inquisitive one into the mix. But would this work on him?

She’d have to work much slower to access some, if any, information.

Most of all, she was afraid of her body giving her away: her fast heartbeat and shallow breathing, paired with the subtle interrogation could give it all away. And this terrified her.

Sarah watched the clock tick closer and closer to five o’clock with increasing dread.

When it arrived, she waved over to Martha, gathered her things and walked out the door with as much confidence as physically possible.

In his living quarters, Black Noir stood in front of a mirror. He remembered Sarah’s reaction. The woman apparently concealed it well, but he’d caught onto her fear, her state of agitation and turmoil. Was it because of his dark appearance, or was it something deeper, a reaction to the violence he represented? He tilted his head to the side. Or did it have to do with her file, something she’s hiding?

The tall man couldn’t think of any way to convince her of his good intentions towards her. All he could do was respect her boundaries and listen to her; hope she’d accept him.

He usually avoided the mirror in his room, not really needing it for any aesthetic reason. He wore the same armored suit every day and was almost always covered from head to toe in tough black material. And yet now, he stood tall in front of it and took in the sight. He was closed-off, impenetrable, dangerous and stealthy. He appreciated the simplicity of the reinforced suit. It wasn’t flashy like the ones his teammates wore. And it didn’t convey any light-hearted or patriotic meaning. It was functional and allowed him to blend into the shadows and kill. His skull-like mask was the last thing many men saw before he proceeded in tearing them apart. Seeing it in daylight had nothing on witnessing it come out of the shadows at night. Like a nightmare taking form right before their eyes.

And now Sarah had witnessed a small violence on his part, the skull he hid behind and the strength he possessed. It was perfectly normal for her to be afraid.

But the knife, a small part of him reminded. Yes, that was a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit. But he’d take his time, god knows he could be patient. Especially if it was for her. The mysterious Sarah Burns.

As eight o ‘clock crept closer, Sarah could be found in her kitchen, finishing up her dinner. The creamy pasta she’d made sat heavy in her stomach, the knowledge of her impending doom adding an extra ton. After quickly washing the dishes, she sat at the table and scrolled through the memes Martha had sent her. When she realized they revolved around Homelander, she grew interested. There was no way the Seven’s leader would accept this, and the inner conflict it would produce was the perfect cover for her plan to proceed.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Sitting still, she tensed, ready to whip up and out of her chair. A dark clothed hand came up and over her shoulder moving towards her cell phone.

She almost jumped out of her skin as her mind thought of the worst possible outcome of having his hand so close to her neck. And yet, he simply leaned over and promptly pressed the heart icon below one of the memes. He liked the meme.

Sarah opened her mouth to speak and closed it a few times. He finally retreated from his spot hovering over her and went to stand at a respectful distance, his back to the wall.

She spun around and stood up, her heart still clogging her throat.

“Jesus Christ,” she hissed, eyes wide and a hand raised to her chest.

He simply watched her with that magnetic gaze she couldn’t seem to escape. She picked at the hem of her shirt, not knowing how to proceed. How had he even entered the house?

His gaze settled on the small notebook she’d left on the table for their upcoming meeting. He moved slowly and gave her wide birth as he took it up into his hands. He flipped to a blank page and wrote.

Are you afraid, he paused before adding, of me?

He passed the notebook to her. She took it hesitantly, and once she read his message, her eyes kept flicking from the page to his mask. You could snap me like a twig. She was indeed very much afraid.

“No,” she answered, with a slight shake of her head.

He tilted his head slightly to the left before raising his hand to his chest. He lightly tapped right over his heart. Sarah initially didn’t understand the meaning of the gesture, but soon realized he was referring to her heartbeat.

She brushed it aside, “Oh...” You probably have a dozen different instruments of death concealed in your suit. “That’s nothing, I’m just jumpy, I guess.”

She hummed, looking for a way to grow her confidence and gain control of the situation.

“Plus, you kind of came out of nowhere. In my house.”

He was still, unsure of how his sudden appearance would pan out. He almost wanted to hit himself for not thinking it through.

“How did you even get in here? I know everything was locked.”

He shrugged, almost imperceptibly, before offering his hand. She passed him the notebook and pen.

Trade secret. If I told you, I’d have to kill you :)

Her heart almost stopped cold before she regained composure. If it weren’t for the smiley face he’d added towards the end, she might have died right then and there. And she laughed, she actually laughed. Maybe it was the tension, or the insane fact that Black Noir was in her home, attempting to crack a joke.

“I guess I don’t really need to know,” she surmised with a small smile.

He nodded before adding more to the page.

Your day?

“How was my day?

He nodded, captivated by the fluid movements her hands naturally made as she spoke. He’d noticed it immediately the first night he’d seen her at the gala. Over the next week of watching her, he’d quickly filed it as one of her mannerisms.

“I can’t complain. Honestly, I don’t really like that job, it’s more something to keep the bills payed until I get the position I want.”

He wrote, PhD student. Applied Physiology

“That’s correct,” she confirmed. “Why am I not surprised you know that?”

I know some things. Not everything.

He wanted to apologize for making her uncomfortable but ultimately found it too difficult to actually write down. He wasn’t accustomed to apologizing; he’d never actually needed to. Not out loud, or on paper.

She accepted the quiet confession. “That’s okay. I’m not all that interesting, and there’s nothing to hide.”

They both knew it was a lie, but Black Noir understood her need to protect herself. She’d share the truth with him once he’d won her trust.

“How was your day?”

He straightened and thought of how to approach this question. Thinking on his toes, he went with the easiest, most believable story.

Meetings, promotional event. He added for emphasis. Boring. I slept.

There was no way he could tell her he’d spent most of the day fantasizing her ex-boyfriend’s murder, only to have it executed a few hours ago.

She laughed lightly, “Who knew, I thought you’d be off on some top-secret mission.”

Her hopes were crushed when he answered with a simple shake of the head. She hummed. He leaned against the wall, ever observant of the woman facing him.

“Oh, you can sit. Here let me—”

She got up to pull a chair out for him, but he stopped her with a raised hand. He crossed over to her side of the table and angled the chair she’d been previously occupying before abruptly standing and knocking it out of the way. She slowly sat and let him push her in. He calmly took a seat in front of her.

“Thank you”

I have manners :)

She nodded, “Yes, you do.”

She squirmed under his stare, under the black mask she was starting to grow accustomed to.

Sarah broke the silence, “I wanted to thank you for the other day. I could’ve handled it, but I’m glad you intervened.”

He watched her and she continued, “It was a bad relationship, and seeing him really threw me off balance. Then you showed up, and I was just…,” she trailed off.

He reached out and briefly touched her hand before sharply retrieving it. It was what he’d seen other people do in society, or in the movies he watched in the privacy of his living quarters. As he understood, it was meant as a way to show affection and give comfort. But were they at a stage where he could do that? He honestly didn’t know.

He jotted down a line, I understand

“And thank you for the gifts, I mean, the flowers and the earrings—they’re all so beautiful but you really don’t have to go through all that trouble.”

I want to

She smiled reading the words. She leaned back in her chair and took him all in. Who was this man? The Black Noir she’d gathered intel on for Mallory was nothing like the man sitting in front of her. Well, maybe that was extreme, she had seen proof of his deadly work. And yet, she was not seeing the ferocious, sinister monster she’d come to imagine over the years.

He was a more complex sort of enigma, one that was maybe as complicated as her own. While she needed to maintain her guard around him, she found herself slightly relaxing in his presence. There were multiple layers to this man, and maybe she could appeal to the human, well-mannered side of him.

They spent the rest of the next hour exchanging questions. They mostly revolved around their likes and dislikes, jumping from books to foods, and finally to movies. She quickly realized he was well cultured on cinema, especially war and action movies which he clearly enjoyed.

“Hmm, how about Tears of the Sun?”

He nodded. A favorite.

“Black Hawk Down?”

The large man nodded with enthusiasm.

“What about Saving Private Ryan.”

He snorted. Don’t insult me

“What’s your favorite movie ever? Like the perfect mix of action, shooting and humor.”

He thought for a few seconds before deciding. Die Hard

When he pushed the notebook towards her for her to read, he emphasized his point by tapping on it and sitting back, arms crossed.

“Well, I like what I see. Yippee kay ye, am I right?” she said with mirth. “Yeah, I think that’s Bruce Willis’s best movie.”

He was glad she liked it as well. Early that morning, he’d made a rapid search on the Internet before having to attend meetings. He searched, “How do you know your first date is going well.” He wasn’t quite sure if it was an official date, but in his mind, it was as close to it as it could get. His search gave a wide range of answers. After reading through a bunch of them, he gathered that for it to go well they needed to click. There had to be a spark, whatever that meant.

More precisely, there had to be common topics, common likes and dislikes. The conversation should come easy, and awkward silences should be avoided at all costs because, while they might not disturb him, they may be uncomfortable for her. And while they’d gotten off to a rough start, things were now going quite smoothly.

Sarah thought long and hard, “What about Pearl Harbor? It isn’t as action-packed but it’s still a really good historical war movie.”

She nodded, and shyly added, “Well, if you’d like to, you could come over and watch it. Actually, we could watch Die Hard one time, and Pearl Harbor another.”

He watched her, the way she was so self-conscious. Sarah constantly touched her cheeks, her curly hair, her neck. If only she could see herself the way he saw her.

He wrote. I would like that

Checking her watch, she barely contained a yawn.

“I’m sorry, it’s not you, it’s just late for me,” she assured.

I’ll go

“No, it’s okay, really.”

He shook his head. I don’t need sleep. You do

I’ll be back for those movies

Sarah smiled, “All right.”

Black Noir rose to his full height and she watched him with a twinge of fascination. Who even was this man?

When can I see you

“Well, tomorrow night I’m going out with my friend, but we can definitely schedule Die Hard for the night after. Eight pm?”

I’ll be here.

She walked him to the door and leaned against the wood. The doorway seemed smaller as he walked through. He clicked the switch turning her porch lights out and quickly jotted a few lines down.

Turn them on when I leave. Safer

She nodded with a small smile. How could someone as dangerous as him be so concerned with her well-being, she didn’t know, but she found herself liking it regardless.

He quickly scribbled something down before shutting the notebook and handing it back over.

Facing her, he raised a hand as if he were about to wave. His hand twisted into a thumbs up before he took his leave. Walking away, he crossed under a single streetlight before disappearing into an alley.

She stayed there for a few more seconds, just peering into the darkness. Heeding his advice, she shut the door and switched the porch lights back on. Retreating further into her home, she flipped through the pages looking for his last note. It was a small smiley face he’d doodled on the edge of the page.

She steeled herself against feeling anything but contempt. She reminded herself of the danger he could pose to her. But as much as she wanted to suppress it, she couldn’t help the small smile on her face as she fell asleep.

Giulia

PART 7

Tag list: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @ellejo @dust-bun @coco724 @proximio-5 @damiminator

Let me know if you want to be tagged!! Or you can like this post and I’ll add you :)

#the boys #black noir #black noir x oc #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys season 2 #the boys black noir #fanfiction #oc story

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s3ungyoun · 5 years ago

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❝my eyes want you more than a melody❞ [single dad!seungwoo x reader]

genre: smut, fluff (?)

warnings: explicit language + content, age gap, unprotected sex, it’s kinda soft ngl

word count: 4.4k

a/n (please read 😭): sorry for being so inactive!! exams + personal issues have been killing me lately. i’ve been sitting on this au idea for a couple months and i finally finished it so i wanted to post!! comments and feedback are greatly appreciated. i feel like this has a lot of unnecessary build-up until the smut which i usually don’t do, so pls let me know if u like it this way or not <3 ty pls enjoy

Seungwoo was untouchable.

Disregarding the fact that he was sinfully attractive and unbearably kind (aka, way out of your league) — he also just happened to be the dad of the child you babysat most weeknights. Harboring a crush on an actual father was not exactly ideal, yet you somehow managed it anyways.

It was the little things, really, such as the way he would ask you to stay for dinner in his honey-like voice, or how his long, slender fingers looked as he ran them through his hair, rousing it in the process. Or maybe even the way he would always give his son a goodnight kiss, melting your heart as you wished he would give you one too.

“What are your plans for tonight?” your friend Yohan asked, snapping you out of your reverie.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m watching Dongpyo.”

At that Yohan let out a slight chuckle, leaning back in his chair and mockingly raising his brow at you. Your crush on Seungwoo was painstakingly obvious to everyone except for him and Dongpyo (which you constantly thanked god for, seeing as the child couldn’t go a day without running his mouth). Seungwoo and Yohan were close family friends, and Yohan had actually assisted you in getting the job — unable to watch Dongpyo himself due to his busy schedule. Being a broke college student, the job was practically magical; the pay good and hours more flexible than other jobs available to those your age. Which was exactly why Seungwoo was so untouchable. You needed this job, and the thought of ruining it over a simple crush haunted you through every interaction.

“The fact that Seungwoo-hyung hasn’t noticed obsession with him yet still amazes me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, glaring at him. “I’m not that obvious.”

“You look at him like you want to get railed.”

“And? I do.”

Yohan scrunches his nose up in disgust. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.”

Picking up Dongpyo from school was something you enjoyed immensely. The walk home was spent with the 7-year-old ranting about his day, whether good or bad, and you nodding your head as if you totally agreed that his classmate, Minhee, was selfish for stealing his crackers during snack time — or whatever petty drama elementary students dealt with.

Today, Dongpyo had gotten in trouble for talking back to his teacher, and you couldn’t help but coo at his pouty expression, reaching out to pat his head in sympathy.

“Just follow her orders next time. Then you won’t get put in time out.”

“You don’t understand!” he whined, shaking his little fists. “She was wrong, I just wanted to correct her! She’s so mean to me.”

Chuckling, you turn to grab the child’s hand as you both cross the street, soon arriving to his and Seungwoo’s apartment building. Dongpyo switched the subject as you rode up the elevator, now telling you about Hyeongjun’s epic birthday party. This was the best part of your day — bonding with Dongpyo. While Yohan and Hangyul assumed you only liked the job for the perk of talking to Seungwoo, you did genuinely enjoy his son’s company. Not only was he adorable, but funny and warm-hearted as well, all traits you assumed he inherited from his father.

The apartment itself was clean and sleek. While you had initially been surprised at the size of it, you quickly learned that Seungwoo’s job, whatever it was, paid quite well.

Despite the apartment’s organization, Dongpyo’s toys still occasionally littered the floor, and you were careful not to accidentally step on a lego or break one of his precious toy cars. On days he felt especially active he would ask you to play with him, but for the most part he studied and stared at his iPad.

You were grateful for his low maintenance. Even though Seungwoo was gracious enough to work with your class schedule, you still arrived home late, leaving you barely any time to complete your assignments. Sometimes you wished the job was a little more demanding, Seungwoo a little harsher — because maybe then you wouldn’t feel the way you do.

Seungwoo arrived home a couple minutes earlier than usual that day, and you perked your head up at the sound of keys jingling in the lock, Dongpyo excitedly jumping up from his place on the couch to run towards the door.

“Daddy!” he yelled, bouncing up and down while waving his arms as a signal for Seungwoo to pick him up. The father complied, his previously weary eyes sparkling in delight as Dongpyo nuzzled his face into his chest.

“Was he good today?” Seungwoo asked.

“Well...” you began, glancing at Dongpyo. Noticing the pleading look on his face, you quickly changed your expression. “He was great! As always.”

Even if Dongpyo had decided to act up, you never quite felt like telling Seungwoo — seeing the smile come off his face as he solemnly disciplined his child broke your heart more than you wanted to admit. That, mixed with Dongpyo’s unresistable pout, usually kept him out of trouble.

Seungwoo smiled. “Of course he was, I’m sure you keep him in check anyways. You don’t want to bother our precious babysitter, do you Dongpyo?”

Your face flushed, color lighting up your cheeks as Dongpyo giggled in agreement. “Y/N is the best!”

“Mm, she is, isn’t she?”

Letting out a slight chuckle, you pick up your things, simultaneously wanting to go yet dreading having to leave. Seungwoo puts Dongpyo down and turns towards you.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” he asks, and you feel your heart leap a little. Dinners with Seungwoo weren’t extremely common, yet he did invite you to stay every once in a while It was rare that you took up on his offer, however, too worried you might embarrass yourself in some way that would haunt you for the remainder of your life. Besides, you were busy as well.

“Ah,” you looked down. “I actually have a lot to do. Thank you, though!”

A flicker of disappointment flashed upon Seungwoo’s face, but he was quick to mask his dismay, nodding and wishing you farewell as you walked out the door.

There were few sensations in the world that made you feel breathless, as if you were peacefully falling; a moment of tranquility yet exhilaration. Seungwoo smiling was one of them.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” Hangyul suggested, thumb scrolling through his twitter feed as he laid haphazardly across your couch.

“Yeah, Seungwoo-hyung is nice. He’s not going to fire you for having a crush on him.” Yohan agreed.

Whining, you scowled at them. “How do I even approach that? ‘Hey, father of the child I’m currently making sure doesn’t die, I think you’re hot.’ No, that’s stupid. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“That’s kinda good actually. Brief, but gets the message across. Maybe don’t reiterate the fact that you babysit his kid, though.”

“Wait,” Hangyul interjects. “I have an even better idea.”

“Which is?” you prompt.

“I’ll make a shirt that says ‘Please Fuck Me.” You can wear it next time you go over.”

“Ooh,” Yohan exclaims. “Subtle. I like it.”

You throw a pillow at them.

It was Monday, and Dongpyo seemed to be even more talkative than usual on the walk home. You zoned out slightly, occasionally nodding and mumbling one-word responses as Dongpyo continuously blabbered. In a way, you felt bad, but you had too much on your mind to listen to the seven-year-old complain about his teacher — no matter how adorable he was.

Dongpyo, however, sensed your wavering attention, tugging on your jeans while pouting slightly.

“Y/N,” he whined.

“Yes?” you asked, finally looking at him.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Eyes widening comically, you laughed while crouching down to his level. “No, I don’t. But why would you ask that?”

His pout turned into a smirk. To be frank, you were quite scared of Dongpyo at times — despite his innocent face, he always seemed to be planning something. “Well, Daddy said you were pretty, and Uncle Wooseok told me that when you think someone’s pretty, it’s because you like them.”

“I don’t think your dad said that, Dongpyo.”

“It’s true!” He yelled defensively. “Daddy thinks you’re pretty!”

Standing up, you reach to press the elevator button, ready for the conversation to be over as you head up to Seungwoo’s place. “Whatever you say.”

The walk into Seungwoo’s apartment is met with cries of indignation from Dongpyo, the younger still upset by the fact that you don’t believe him. Rolling your eyes, you shush him, hands coming up to rub at your temples. Your head had started to hurt due to the loudness of Dongpyo’s yells, each hour passing by slowly as you attempted to finish a paper due the next day despite Dongpyo’s words still ringing in your mind. Lying was not something he partook in. While the child did have a big mouth, everything he said was true to a certain extent.

Soon enough, Seungwoo is unlocking the door, Dongpyo jumping up and repeating the same scene that had occurred only days ago. It was heartwarming, really, how much the two loved each other. Basking in the affection in front of you, you completely forgot about Dongpyo’s words from earlier — until he decided to blurt it out.

“Daddy, you said Y/N was pretty, right?”

“I—,” Seungwoo blinked, startled. “Where is this coming from?”

Blushing again, you were quick to stammer out a response, internally thinking of ways to escape the situation. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer him, he was just saying nonsense earlier—”

“She doesn’t believe me! I told her you said it, and she doesn’t believe me! Tell her I’m not lying, please.”

“Dongpyo,” Seungwoo sighed. “Why don’t you go to your room and play with the new toy I bought you, hmm?”

“But daddy—”

“Go.” He said sternly, watching as Dongpyo stomped down the hallway, lightly slamming his door in protest.

Stuttering, you motion towards the door, slowly getting up. “Um, I think— I think I should go now, see you tomorrow?”

He focused his gaze on you, smiling faintly when he noticed the blush on your face. “I’m sorry about Dongpyo, he really has no filter sometimes.”

“Oh,” you said. “Don’t worry about it. Kids just have a good imagination.”

“He wasn’t lying.”

This — this was where the lines truly blurred. Sure, Seungwoo had always been overwhelmingly kind, and at times a bit touchy, but he had never been so blatant before. There were moments of uncertainty, moments in which you wondered whether or not he felt the same way. Of course, you still weren’t sure, but you were at least aware of the fact that he thought you were pretty. And that simple statement was enough to keep locked in both your heart and mind for days or weeks on end, only opening the vault when you felt like further exploring your supposedly delusional fantasies.

You’re quick to leave after that, using the excuse of your paper as you practically run out the door. Once in the elevator, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

Maybe, just maybe you were a bit more delusional after what had happened. But when Seungwoo invited you to stay over for dinner that Friday, you didn’t deny him.

The dinner itself was good, and Dongpyo talked throughout the whole ordeal, excitedly chattering about the field trip his school had taken that day. You couldn’t exactly pay attention to the food or Dongpyo, however, too flustered by Seungwoo’s constant stare. At first, you were worried that you had accidentally gotten something on your face, but after a quick trip to the bathroom, you determined that he was simply staring for no reason — staring at you.

As the night calmed down and Dongpyo went to bed, you were almost scared of what Seungwoo was going to do. Clearly, he had something to say — or he wouldn’t have stared at you like that. But what exactly was it? Had he found out about your crush? Were you going to be fired? Your stomach churned anxiously at the last question, fingers toying with the rips in your jeans as you sat on the couch, waiting for Seungwoo to return from Dongpyo’s bedroom.

“Sorry about the wait,” he said as he sat down next to you. “Dongpyo wanted me to read him a bedtime story.”

You internally cooed, your mind immediately picturing the scene: a tired Dongpyo, desperately clinging onto his father as Seungwoo’s eyes filled with adoration, laying him down and—

Snap out of it, you reminded yourself, instead attempting to focus on what new jobs you could apply for when you got home. Maybe a barista?

“So,” Seungwoo started. “I wanted to talk about Monday, but I haven’t gotten the chance without you running out the door.” At that sentence he chuckled nervously, seeming almost as apprehensive as you.

You gulped.

“I’m sorry if my comment made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention, and I’m fully aware that it’s not my place to say things of that nature to someone who—well, someone who watches my kid.”

“It didn’t,” you stammered, “It didn’t make me feel uncomfortable or anything. I was just, surprised? I guess. I don’t really expect someone like you to think someone like me is pretty.”

He glanced into your eyes, fingers reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of your face. They finally settle on your cheek, and as his thumb strokes your chin, it feels like the air is being sucked out of your lungs, your chest constricting with each movement. “Y/N, you’re very pretty. You’re beautiful. If you weren’t so young and Dongpyo’s babysitter, I would—,” he stops. “Well, that’s not important.”

“You would what?” you implore, subconsciously scooting closer.

His eyes lazily drop down to your lips, and you’re certain that he can hear how fast your heart’s beating. Uncertainty lingers slightly in the air, clouding the mood and making you briefly wonder if this was a good idea — if this was going to ruin everything. You have hardly any time to be nervous, however, as Seungwoo is quick to close the gap between the two of you, molding your lips together.

It wasn’t rushed nor heated, quick nor sloppy. It seemed to be a perfect meld of everything that is Seungwoo. From the way his fingertips gently combed through your hair, the way his other hand had settled protectively at your hip, or the faint aroma you caught of his cologne — everything somehow pieced itself together to portray his want, to portray the ache he had felt after pining for you all these months.

You’re the first to pull away, breathing slightly laboured as you both stare at one another, each waiting for someone to speak. You’re not sure why, but every doubt you’ve ever had, every single moment of regret you’ve faced, has somehow been released into your mind. As if a dam had burst, you’re quick to jump up from your spot on the couch, refusing to look Seungwoo in the eye as you hastily took your leave.

You had fucked up.

“So, just to make sure,” Yohan said. “He said you were pretty, kissed you, and then you left?”

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Are you fucking stupid?”

You let out an indistinguishable groan, words muffled by your pillow. “Clearly.”

“I don’t understand your thought process. The man you haven’t shut up about for the past year basically tells you he likes you back, so your first thought is to ghost him?”

“It’s not that simple!” You yell defensively, strangely resembling Dongpyo in the way you whine.

Yohan sighs in annoyance. “Explain then! What’s not simple about it?”

“First of all, he has a whole child. He’s also a lot older.

“He’s not even 30.”

“Still! I’m probably too immature for him.”

“Doesn’t he get to make that decision though?” Yohan asks. “If he thought you were too immature for him, he probably wouldn’t like you in the first place.”

Grumbling, you turn to face him, face adorned with a scowl. “Can you stop being annoyingly right for one second? God, it’s suffocating.”

Yohan shakes his head. “If him being a single father bothers you, don’t do anything. But I know you. You love Dongpyo, and you obviously like Seungwoo-hyung too. If the only thing holding you back from pursuing this is the fear that he won’t like you, then, well, you’re even dumber than I thought.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But I kinda already messed everything up, don’t you think?”

“Seungwoo-hyung’s more forgiving than you think. He’s probably just as confused and anxious as you, wondering what he did wrong.”

The gears are slowly turning in your head as you calculate when you can talk to Seungwoo next. It was a long weekend, meaning Dongpyo had gone off to see his mother, and you were off work until Tuesday. While you weren’t quite sure of Seungwoo’s work schedule on the weekend, you still mustered up the courage to go and visit his apartment anyways, Yohan’s words lingering in the back of your mind.

Tension radiates off your body as the elevator slowly climbs to Seungwoo’s floor. A small voice in the back of your head tells you that this is a bad idea, that it will only result in heartbreak and tears and having to find a new job. But there’s a bigger part of you, a part that is simultaneously fueled by your heart and whatever words of encouragement Yohan managed to give you — and that part leads you to Seungwoo’s door, it leads you to raise your fist and knock on it, and it leads you to step inside. There’s no turning back now, no excuses or hasty exits. Instead, it is you and Seungwoo, finally alone.

He’s the first to break the silence, offering you a drink as you tells you to sit down. You politely decline, making yourself comfortable on his couch, mind reeling back to the events that took place on it a mere two days ago.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you, it was wrong of me to do so. If you no longer want to work here I understand, and I’m sorry for overstepping any boundaries. I just— I guess I just read the moment wrong, and I’m sorry for that.”

“Seungwoo,” you said softly. “You don’t have to apologize, I kissed you back. I guess I was just a bit overwhelmed with...everything. I like you, I really do. And I’m sorry if you don’t feel that way, if you just felt like kissing me for no reason and you don’t want me to work for you anymore. But—”

He cuts you off. “Y/N, I do want you to stop working for me.”

“Oh.”

“B-but not because I’m mad or uncomfortable or anything,” he laughs nervously, scratching at the back of his head. “I like you too. But that’s kinda hard when you’re, well, my employee.”

“Are you firing me?” you ask teasingly.

“Do you want to be fired?”

“I want you to keep liking me.”

“Well then, yes, you’re fired.”

Giggling, you bat your eyelashes at him, “Can I at least get a goodbye kiss, then?”

The kiss is heated this time, Seungwoo’s lips fervently pressing against yours as both of his hands trace your hip bones, moving slightly up and down your lower body. Yours are quick to mold themselves into his hair, gripping softly while his tongue coaxes your mouth open. Urgency is replaced by passion, and any hesitation is swallowed with every movement Seungwoo makes. Slowly, he lays you back against the couch, hovering over your flushed body as he continues his ministrations.

You’re the first to push things further, legs spreading out in order for Seungwoo to situate himself between them, the older man practically enveloping your entirety. As if they have a mind of their own, your hips bucked up to meet Seungwoo’s, a strained moan leaving his mouth at the contact. He’s quick to reciprocate, grinding down into you like a touch-starved highschooler. It’s almost sweet, the notion that you can turn Seungwoo into a groaning mess. But you suppose he has the same effect on you.

Pulling back, he begins to leave soft kisses on your neck, biting softly when you let out a sigh of encouragement. There’s no doubt you’ll have marks the next morning, but at that moment, you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Soft kisses and nips soon trail further down until he reaches your chest, Seungwoo immediately looking up at you for consent to continue. You nod, but he seems dissatisfied by this, shaking his head while letting out a hum of disapproval.

“Use your words, princess,” he orders.

“Please, Seungwoo. I want you to touch me.”

“Where do you want me to touch you, sweetheart?”

“Anywhere,” you whine. “Just please.”

He smirks at this, fingers tugging at the edge of your shirt as he lifts it off, unbuckling your bra as well. You’re a bit embarrassed — being so exposed — but the anxiety is quickly washed away by his awestruck gaze, Seungwoo leaning back up to resume kissing you as his hand gropes your breast, relishing in your gasps of pleasure when he lightly pinches your perked nipple. His other hand focuses on undoing your pants, making quick work of the buttons and zipper.

The two of you briefly break apart in order for Seungwoo to take off your jeans as you almost rip away his shirt. If you were to look in on the both of you, it would seem as if you were starved — two lovers reunited after a painstaking absence. Instead, you were simply hollow, desperately clawing at the other for a sense of love and passion.

And indeed, you both found what you were looking for.

Both of you were stripped down to your underwear, yet no hasty movements were made. It was that moment again — that moment of tranquility yet exhilaration. The moment that was only ignited by Seungwoo’s smile, by Seungwoo’s voice, by Seungwoo. And right now, it was being ignited by the feeling of his fingers delicately tracing your core, your panties practically soaked with each circular motion. Slowly, he pulls your underwear down, tossing them across the room somewhere. Digits circling your hole, Seungwoo pushes one finger in, taking delight in the wanton moan that escapes your lips.

“More,” you beg, hips moving to meet the thrust of his hand.

Seungwoo complies, pushing in another finger and attempting to scissor your open. The movement of your hips becomes more desperate when he adds a third, and you’re quick to warn him of your impending orgasm.

“S-stop,” you tell him shakily.

He pulls his fingers out, worriedly glancing up at you to make sure you’re not in pain. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Did I hurt you?”

Shaking your head, you point to his hard length pressed against your thigh, practically throbbing with need. “No, just wanna come with you inside me.”

At your statement he smirks, thumbs hooking around the waistband of his underwear and pulling them off. Your eyes widen slightly at his size, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Seungwoo, who leans down and kisses you ardently again, hands taking hold of your thighs in order to spread your legs apart and position himself between them.

Gripping the base of his cock, Seungwoo rubs the head against your folds, collecting your wetness while effectively teasing you.

“Oh my god,” you whine. “Just fuck me already.”

With that, he thrusted into you. The stretch was slightly painful at first, but Seungwoo had accommodated for it accordingly, giving you a second to adjust before he pulled almost all the way out, plunging his hips into yours again. Your breasts bounced with each snap of his hips, hands reaching out in hopes of finding something to grab onto you. Seungwoo notices this, intertwining his hands with yours with a look of both adoration and lust.

“You feel so good wrapped around me, princess.”

You could only moan in acknowledgment, your brain foggy and disoriented from the pleasure. Releasing one of your hands, Seungwoo reached down to rub your clit, causing you to clench around him.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “You’re so tight.”

“Seungwoo, faster,” you whimpered, close to reaching your high.

His hips seemed to move at double the speed, drilling into you while you babbled incoherently, letting out small praises and loud gasps. Everything was overwhelming in a good way, each one of your senses being overcome by Seungwoo’s movements. His brow furrowed in concentration, and you could tell that he was close too, leading you to purposely clench around him.

“Don’t, ‘m gonna come.”

“Me too,” you said, clenching again. His thrusts became sloppy, fingers lazily circling your clit as you both rode out your highs. The sound of labored breathing and racing pulses filled the room as the two of you basked in the afterglow, only breaking apart once Seungwoo pulled out and a light squeal of sensitivity was heard from you. He stood up, leaving to grab a warm washcloth and returning with fresh clothes.

Sighing, he looks down, “We probably shouldn’t have done this on the couch.”

You let out a giggle, smiling warmly at him as he cleaned you up and dressed you, ensuring that you were fully comfortable before laying down again, positioning you to lay on top of his chest.

“You don’t regret anything, right?” he implores, anxiously gnawing at his bottom lip.

“No,” you affirm. “I told you I liked you, didn’t I?”

“Mmm, you’re right. It’s settled then, right?”

You look up at him curiously. “What exactly is being settled?”

“That we like each other. That you no longer work for me. That— that I want you to be mine.”

“Yeah,” you smiled at him. “It’s settled.”

Letting out a sigh of content, he visibly relaxes. “Good.”

“But, who’s going to babysit Dongpyo now?”

“Hmm,” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head. “You should do it for free as my girlfriend, don’t you think?”

You could probably get used to that.

#x1 smut #seungwoo smut #x1 imagines #x1 scenarios #yup back on my no proofreading bullshit

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stickyhoney · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Fugitives

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: You have fled with the war criminal Steve Rogers, known as Captain America, to a small village in the north of France. After months of hiding, tensions and feelings have peaked.

A/N: This will be my first multi-chapter work, so be patient with me please. Also seeing all your comments and messages makes me so happy, so keep them coming ;)

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Adult Language, Sexual Tension, fluff

Chapter One:

“Would you give it a rest already?!” The wooden door cracked against the hinges after your strong push. The echoes of the door hitting against the wall reverberated strongly throughout the small cottage that the two of you had called home for the past 3 months. Steve was strict on not using the word “home” however, even though America had turned its back on him, he could never call another country home.

“How many times have I told you?! We can’t talk to the locals!” His voice boomed against the confines of the kitchen. You could feel the vibrations of his steps under your feet. His stomps rivaled an elephant’s when he was angry.“You get to talk to the men in the village everyday! All I did was introduce myself to the women in the square.” Your tone leveled out by the end of your defense. You remembered you shouldn't have to defend your actions.

You were both knocking your boots off onto the floor, leaving dirt all around the doormat. Old hardened clumps of clay remained from workdays past, blades of grass from the garden out back. Steve hung his dark ballcap on the hook by the door, with a sharp snapping motion. “Do you think I choose to spend my time out there with those men? I do that to make sure we survive. Those are purely professional relationships, they know nothing of me other than my ability to split wood with my hands.”

Flashbacks back to Clint’s family farm make your heart warm for a brief moment. The sound of his children squealing with joy, calling you auntie, haunted your memories. You let your hair down, shaking it until it falls to your shoulders. “Why can’t I work in the village like you do? Steve… I haven’t spoken to anyone other than you for months. I can’t keep on this way.” Your mind and heart were exhausted from these past months. You had left everything you had ever known behind, and adopted the moniker of “war criminal”. The feeling of isolation had been beating the both of you down, Steve was just better at coping.

“You act like you have a choice.” His voice was flat, his tone cold. Sometimes it startled you how much Steve had changed, he was nowhere near the sweetheart he once was. He was now a rugged, hardened, survivor. The long sigh you let out signaled defeat, at least for tonight.

Dinner was the only time you could convince Steve to relax. It had been your secret mission to give you two a piece of home through food, even if you didn’t always know what you were doing. Tonight was spaghetti night, Steve’s favorite. Gathering ingredients in the garden had become an unspoken tradition between you. It was all so domestic, picking tomatoes from the vines and clipping parsley from the herb garden in the kitchen window. Your small garden and patio had become your haven from the daunting trials of your new normal.

The wooden spoon dragged through the thick marinara sauce you had made, causing whirls of hot steam to rise up to your nostrils. The comforting aroma filled the cramped cottage, every nook and cranny had been permeated with tomato and parsley. Behind you, feet dragged on the tiles towards you. “Huh, smells pretty good.” Your lips pull up into a faint smile, a giggle rises from your chest. “You sound surprised.” You turned around with the large pot of sauce to find Steve within a foot of you, causing your hands to release the pot. Steve’s arms quickly react and catch the pot inches from the ground, small drops of sauce splashing out onto the tiles. “God Steve! You can’t sneak up on me like that!” You drop down onto your knees with a towel to clean up the mess, somewhat embarrassed at your jumpiness. Ever since that night… it had been getting worse.

“I can’t fucking help you get scared so easy!” You rose back up to him, trying to keep your embarrassment hidden. “I’m sorry, I- I can’t help it.” You tried to sound strong, but your words came out timid and meek. Steve’s eyes softened after realizing what he had said, realization hitting his features. Pity was never something you wanted from anyone, especially him. “[y/n]...” His hand reaches for your elbow, in a sympathetic gesture. Tears began to well up, your face was reddening, so you moved your body away from his. Acting like everything was normal when nothing was, it was a lifestyle for the both of you. Dinner went by normally, with only a few words said, most of which were grunts of satiated hunger.

“Ice cream?” Your eyebrow kicked up inquisitively, even though you already knew the answer. Steve was a sucker for ice cream, especially this certain kind you picked up from a vendor in the village. It was made from the woman's fresh blueberry patch. You made sure to keep a carton in the freezer. Steve places a hand over his non-existent food baby, and grunts. “You know I do.”

You struggle to stand after downing three full plates of spaghetti and two bowls of salad. “I’ve never seen a woman eat as much as you do. It’s unnatural.” You sat the carton down on the counter, and began to take bowls out. “Did you see Nat eat? She could eat a house full of food in one go.” You were giggling through the last few words until you looked back, a cold Steve with a deadpan expression. He always goes blank when the past comes into conversation.

“We’ve gotta let the ice cream thaw…” You skated across the tile floors in your socks, towards the living room. You wanted to get his mind off things, he had been a jerk lately. Even when Steve Rogers was mad at the world, he had never been so coarse with you. There was one thing you knew that Steve loved… even if it was a hundred years ago.

Your fingers picked up the needle and lifted it across and down onto the black vinyl record. The cottage came with an old vinyl record player, it was hidden under an old white sheet in the corner of the living room. Steve never paid it any mind since it had been broken, but you had secretly been fixing it for the past month. The faint buzz of the needle connecting to the moving record reverberated through the silent house.

“Strangers in the night,

Exchanging glances

Wandering the night,

What were the chances

We'd be sharing love

Before the night was through”

Frank Sinatra’s sultry voice carried you back into the kitchen. When you entered Steve had stood up and stood so rigid, that he reminded you of a soldier standing at attention. “What’s that look for?” You had bent over in pain from trying to contain your laughter. He looked as if his commander walked into the room. “What are you doing playing that music?” You knew he loved Sinatra, probably because it transported him to a simpler time when he knew all the answers. Get the bad guys, defend your country, get the girl.

You stood back up, jokingly going expressionless, and standing more rigid than a wooden board. “Well soldier, I was anticipating doing some dancing.” You tapped the back of your heels together and stuck your arm out towards him as an invitation.

“Something in your eyes

Was so inviting

Something in your smile

Was so exciting

Something in my heart

Told me I must have you”

“I don’t dance [y/n]. You know that.” His body began to decompress, the tensity of his limbs dissipating, his eyes lowering. You purse your lips into a playful pout, and place your palms out as if you were a beggar. “C’mon, make a girl happy. I’m sure you’ve got some move in you.” Steve breathed out a long sigh, and ran his hand back through his long dirty blonde hair. “C’mon, I promise I won’t bite…”

You step in closer to him, your hands reaching for his wrists. He meets you halfway, stepping towards you. “I might be rusty.” Your left hand guides his around your waist while the right holds his out beside you upright. You chuckle under your breath knowing he was lying, he took charge and led the dance.

“Strangers in the night

Two lonely people

We were strangers in the night

Up to the moment

When we said our first hello

Little did we know

Love was just a glance away

A warm embracing dance away”

After a few moments, you laid your head on his chest. The coarse material scratched against your cheek, but was soothed by the heat this man was radiating. He was like a damn furnace. His hands were worn from the daily manual labor that kept a roof over your head. Steve began humming along to the chorus, his deep vibrato sending vibrations through his chest. You couldn’t help but bask in his scent. His must and leather jacket mixed for a lovely combination, one that had become ingrained in your being. You knew he didn’t like using the word home, but he had become yours.

Your free hand wrapped around his back pulling him in closer, your thumb tracing circles. It was the untold promise between you, keep things friendly. The promise was becoming harder and harder to keep, but the both of you knew why it was important to keep. Silence passed between you for a few minutes. "Thank you for this [y/n]."

The vinyl record fades into silence, the only thing the two of you were swaying to was the sound of the wind whistling through the weeping willows branches out front. "Oh the ice cream!" You jump out of his embrace and run towards the carton on the counter, the blueberry ice cream had turned to a thin consistency. "Noooo whyyyyyy" you cried out as dramatically as you could. You turned back to see that Steve was gone, and heard his bedroom door shut quietly across the house.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #nomad steve #steverogers #steve rodgers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #rpf #marvel

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mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years ago

Note

“there’s something on your shirt. you – that’s blood!” + Vaxilmore

I kind of feel like we wrote this together with how much you helped me with the campaign 1 crash course :,)

Also on Ao3 if anyone would like to leave a comment!

---------

Shaun Gilmore looked like a man who enjoyed noise.

He looked like a man made for excess, for festive music and loud, wine fuelled laughter, for company high on fine food and dancing and whatever else they cared to bring to a party. With his embroidered edges and dripping gold jewellery, he would never strike anyone as someone to enjoy the silence after the end of a long day.

And there were some places where Shaun Geddmore and Shaun Gilmore blurred, where he couldn’t remember which likes and dislikes, what features of his personality he'd carried since birth and which had been carefully woven into the costume he’d worn to find success in Tal Dorei.

But this wasn’t one of them.

Shaun did like quiet. He liked his own company, he liked peace and silence, the ache in his muscles and clinging scent not unlike burning that came with a job well done and a lot of magic expended. He was content now, as he retired for the night in the evening stillness, locking the chamber door of the house he kept in Whitestone with full intention to not speak to another soul until the sun came up.

His work with Allura on the city defences was rewarding, a way to put his skills to a loftier use than selling trinkets and making the lives of common folk easier. Here, he was defending them. He was protecting people. It was just so exhausting.

He took a long, indulgent bath, though so much of him just wanted to collapse into bed and sleep away the brain fog. He knew the soak, the warm water, the scent of the herbs and spiced oils that always reminded him of Marquet, would do him better in the end. He made himself take his time as he took out all of the clasps in his hair and beard, combing the thick, black curls through, as he cleaned the salt of the day from his face. So it was nearly midnight by the time he wrapped himself in a silk robe and padded to the canopied bed but he certainly felt fresher and more relaxed.

A few pages of his book and then a generous handful of hours to sleep. Shaun chuckled to himself as he slid under the blankets, imagining what his love would say if he could see him. Most likely he’d be teased at how pampered he’d grown, at how one day of hard work could leave him so tired when he spent all his time tramping through gods only knew where, sleeping on the hard ground and living by his blade. Facing unknown foes every single day and now this business with the dragons, risking death in countless ways-

Shaun forced himself to stop, closing his eyes, fingers gripping his book tight enough that there would be indents left by his nails when he eventually let go.

You cannot help him by worrying he told himself with the weary sternness of a parent who’d told their child not to climb that tree a million times only to find them amongst the leaves again, you’ll only make him feel guilty when he returns.

When. Because his little bird would always fly home to him, every time, he promised whenever they had to part. And one day it would all be over and he could finally put a ring on his finger and he would never have to worry about where Vax’ildan was ever again.

Shaun had to believe that.

He made himself focus on his book, lighting the candle by his bedside with a wave of his hand, extinguishing the ones in the adjoining bathroom in the same gesture. And after a while, the tension eased and he could let go of his worries. Though his fingers still itched for the feel of soft, dark hair under them, his chest wouldn’t have felt so hollow if it had the gentle weight of a head pillowed on it.

Dawn would have found him slumped back against the pillows, glasses slipping off his nose and book slipped onto the floor if it hadn’t happened.

The magic had an unfamiliar, unpleasant scent, not unlike the dank, wet earth smell of a grave. That grabbed Shaun first, had him nearly up and on his feet, power crackling in his palm, before the sudden flash of energy even engulfed the room. He braced himself, muscles taut and face lined in cold concentration, ready for the attack.

But the flash faded, dissipating from the room like smoke, a powerful but uncontrolled moment in time, gone as fast as it had appeared.

And there was a new weight in the bed beside him.

“Vax’ildan?” Shaun cried in a strange mix of relief and horror.

His love was curled in a tight ball, still in that awful rank armour of his. His black hair had fallen across his face but what skin showed between the fronds was ashen and he trembled softly all over. Mud and ash and grime smeared Shaun’s silen sheets where it met his body.

Something was very wrong.

“Vax’ildan,” there was only urgency in his voice now, “Vax, speak to me. You’re safe, you’re here with me, it’s all okay…”

“Shaun?” his voice was a strained whisper, sounding strangely vague and disconnected like it didn’t come from him at all.

Having to fight to keep his calm, Shaun touched his shoulder gently and rolled him, wanting to see his face.

“Vax? Little bird, it’s me, you...what...there’s something on you, what- oh gods, that’s blood.”

All questions fled to the back of his mind. There was a large, dark stain of it spreading across his middle, soaking the padded shirt he wore beneath the armour. Shaun wished feverishly that it was someone else’s, a thought he’d feel guilty for later, but when he pressed gently, more welled up and Vax’s breathing turned shaky and pained.

“Oh Vax, my love, what happened?”

He asked but didn’t expect an answer, nor did he wait for one. He ripped away the light, leather plate, letting it fall carelessly to the floor, not stopping until the half elf was down to his undershirt. That went too, so he could see the wound. Small, nothing that wouldn’t heal in time, but he still found it so hard to look at, that ragged hole against the pale skin, where he’d placed who knew how many kisses.

“There was an arrow…” Vax mumbled vaguely, very out of it, “Must have left it behind…”

“What?” Shaun didn’t understand, he just jumped up and dived for the small medicine kit he kept amongst his travel bags, coming up with rages, bandages and a salve, summoning a bowl of clean water. He wasn’t as skilled a healer as some but he’d been around long enough to know how important it was to learn the basics.

Vax hissed and moaned through the process, the cleaning and the binding, the wound may not be fatal but it certainly was painful and it would only get more so as it healed. If it healed. If it didn’t get infected. Stop that.

It was only when the wound was securely bound and the herbs were doing their numbing work that Vax found his voice again, as his fingers groped blindly for Shaun’s. Even though there was a bowl of dirty water, bloody rags and armour that reeked of death waiting to be cleared away, Shaun clutched them tight and knelt by his side, not realising until he did so just how much he’d needed it.

“Sorry,” Vex exhaled weakly, “Didn’t mean to drop in on you like this.”

“But how?” Saun shook his head, trying to reconcile it with his own knowledge of magic and coming up with only one, seemingly impossible anwer, “Vax, was that a teleportation spell?”

“Was it?” Vax murmured, still a little vague, “I’m still getting used to all this…guess it could have been, it’s not like she gave me an instruction manual…”

Shaun felt a cold hand grip his insides. He didn’t have to ask who she was. Just another thing he’d been folding away, admonishing himself for thinking about.

It would be okay. Vax had promised. He had to believe that.

“We were on the way to Draconia...got jumped on the road, didn’t even see their faces. If it was just fucking high road bandits I’m going to be so pissed…”

“What? Getting yourself here all the way from Draconia...Vax, easy, try to focus. Slow breaths, that's it…” Shaun squeezed the slender, callused fingers held in his own, “You were attacked? Were you with the others?”

“Uh huh,” Vax tried to take deep breaths, wincing when it moved some clearly bruised ribs, “Was. But then I saw the arrow coming. Right at me, was going to bury itself right in my guts. Ever seen someone die like that? Slow. Messy. Your own poison leaking into you, no way to stop it…”

“Vax,” Shaun hoped his love was too out of it to hear the break in his voice, “You’re not going to die, it didn’t go deep enough.”

“No,” Vax managed a rough laugh, though it cost him another groan, “Because I left. I saw my own death coming...for the second time, I mean...and…”

“And?” Shaun prompted, his vision starting to swim.

“And all I wanted was to be with you. If I was going to die and it was gonna stick this time then...all I wanted was to see you. And I guess the random magic kicking around in me took that as a request.”

Shaun felt his throat tighten and all he could do for a moment was press Vax’s hand to his lips, his turn to tremble.

“Can you send a message to them?” Vax mumbled, “Stubby, she’ll be out of her mind. We were so close...”

“I will,” Shaun nodded, clearing his throat, “Of course. I’ll bring them here once I’m strong enough, Pike at least, so she can heal you. And then...then you’ll be back out there before you know it.”

He made the words leave his mouth, when everything else in him wanted to beg him to stay. To never leave the safety of Shaun’s arms, to leave the rest of the world to its dragons and it’s apocalypses, let the gods have their games, and just be his. As selfish as it was, Shaun would have given so much just to have the chance to say it and thus make it true.

Eventually the adrenaline leeched out of Vax and he slipped into sleep, no sign of it other than his breathing levelling out and his hands going slack in Shaun’s grip. He didn’t want to leave him sleeping in dirty sheets, still in his mud splattered boots and trousers, but the rest was what he needed now. There would be time in the morning.

He didn’t move from Vax’s side until he was sure he was fully asleep and wouldn’t miss him. Only then did he stand to send the message, over by the window. Before he summoned the strength from his frayed nerves, he looked out over Whitestone, at the shimmering transparent barrier that crowned the city, only visible when you looked through it and noticed the stars were swimming slightly. Or perhaps it was the tears in his eyes.

He’d built that barrier, he and Allura, to protect the city and every soul within it.

It seemed that Shaun Gilmore could protect everyone but the person he loved the most.

#vaxilmore #angst prompts #cr #cr: campaign one #vox machina #cr: vax #cr: gilmore #shaun gilmore #cw: blood and injury

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alexlabhont · 4 years ago

Text

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter Four.

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing: Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really

I´ll be posting this one over here because Tumblr, for some reason, thinks my secondary blog is a bot...

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

Now, about the PAIRING... I will be using choices style, kinda, because I want to give you choice at some point. If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so... i’m sorry fo the grammar errors

CHAPTERS

The beginning

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

ONE-SHOTS

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

——————————————————————

“What the hell are you doing?”

Zoey Wade. The nerve of this girl of interrupt her meal. Poppy took the time to leave her fork down before bury her gaze into the other girl.

“I should be asking you the same thing. Who do you think you are to talk to me?” She asked exasperated.

So far she was doing good, the last details of her plan were tuned, the day to destroy Chloe and take back her very deserved number one place had come. The excitement she get every time she made a perfect move in order to obtain what she wants was in her veins, but of course, something had to happen. Or someone.

“Don’t play the fool, Poppy. It doesn't suit you. I'll ask once again: What are you doing with Beck?”

“Oh, what do we have here…?” She thought, intrigued.

“I’m sorry, did you crashed your head against the pavement or why do you think I owe you an explanation?” Poppy pushed her salad aside, her appetite completely gone because of the insolence. This Nobody thought she could come and disrespect her in her own spot of the cafeteria like they were in the same level. Zoey was seriously stupid. “Whatever me and Beck are doing is not you fucking business, Wade. Why don’t you just get a life a little less pathetic and go on with it.”

The spark in Zoey’s eyes changed, a little mix between anger and a cold serious look that, Poppy had to admit, scare her for a split second and then… jealousy? The other girl leaned on the table towards her, threatening, trying to intimidate her, but Poppy stood still, not giving her the pleasure to give in to her ridiculous games. Especially feeling all those eyes over them, people murmuring and whispering. She couldn’t let her have her way.

“Listen very closely, Min-Sinclair: I care about Beck and we all here agree you’re a selfish bitch. I know you’re not up to something good, so I will do everything on my power to make sure Beck’s far away from you claws.” That was so ridiculous that Poppy cracked a smile, making fun of Wade. She couldn't even be mad with a clown like her. “I’m telling you now, back off…”

The two of them kept that position a few second, a fight between wills neither of them wanted to loose. Finally, was Zoey the first to walk away, falsely believing her message was received.

Oh, Zoey… as if you could do something to stop her from her aims.

“Hey, Zoey?” Poppy called, the daggers in her mouth ready to hurt her really bad. “Why would anyone be interested in you while they have me?” Zoey stopped immediately, the strike hitting the spot. Poppy smirked, understanding everything right in the moment. Zoey likes Beck, it was so clear it actually felt cliché

“Ha! This must be entertaining.” Poppy thought, enjoying the effect of her words in Zoey.

“You’re just a three-digit fool who hasn't learn her place. Why don't you save yourself from humiliation and forget about Beck completely?” The strawberry blonde smiled at Zoey with a friendly smirk. “You know? My day with them yesterday was really good, so I'm feeling generous.” Poppy took her things and walked to be face to face with Zoey, who was getting red from frowning. “I’m forgetting about everything you just said and giving you a second chance. You see? I’m making you a favor! Your welcome, sweetie.” She added with an obviously pretentious voice before going out the cafeteria.

Even though she looked calm and perfect as always, inside Poppy was furious.

How she dares!

What the hell was wrong with that loser? Does she really was that horny for Beck?

“Well… if she was, I couldn't really blame her…” Poppy thought.

She wasn’t lying back at the shelter; she really thought they were cute. The way they looked at the animals, that stupid, goofy smile and congratulations Beck gave the puppies and kittens everytime Piper told them they did a great job. Poppy had a lot of fun doing the commercial, so much so she couldn’t help but be so honestly involved in the making, enjoying every part of it, in fact, Beck was different from how they’re act in Belvoire everytime they both meet.

They weren’t infuriating, insulting, a ranking climber, selfish dude who played the game even better than she expected. Actually, while having lunch, Beck was… fine. A big asshole from time to time but in a funny way. Pretending to be so nice and shit was actually easier than she thought around Beck, she was even glad to have them now at ten spot. Definitely she did a good choice.

But now, Zoey had to come and ruin her everything. And it actually pissed off Poppy badly. Beck didn’t need a personal protector, and Poppy didn’t need competition. She believed it would be easier to have Beck, at first she thought it was because they were trans, she read about it online: most people wouldn't date a trans person because… reasons.

But Belvoire proved to be different: it turns out Beck had a lot of friends, and a lot of girls daydreaming about them as usually they do around Alphas, admiring them secretly while doing exercises in the gym, trying to dance with them in parties… but Beck refused all of them. They were shy, they looked uncomfortable with anyone.

Anyone except Zoey Wade.

The both were really close, always together like Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Before all this, the very same Poppy had seen them hugging, flirting and practicing music together. Still, the strawberry blonde never thought of her as a threatening opponent. But now, Zoey Wade just make herself a target to eliminate, maybe not this time, after all, she did give her a second chance. She was a woman behind her own word.

But… She still had to do something. So she quickly took off her phone, typing a message to the matter at hand.

Poppy:

So here’s the plan

I'll need you to meet me at this address at 10pm sharp

Don't disappoint me, tushi-face 😏

She waited a few seconds, almost a minute. What took them so long?

Tushi-face🤡:

What? Why?

Poppy:

You'll have to trust me 😉

She looked at her screen, waiting for Beck’s answer. What were they doing? Texting Zoey? Her patience was running low when a little buzz alerted her.

Tushi-face🤡:

This can't be good. I'm not going

Were they serious?! Beck was playing with her kindness more than they should. No good at all.

Poppy:

Coward 🙄

Tushi-face🤡:

I'm not a coward

Quick answer. Poppy smirked mischievously. Beck always gave her a lot of information to work with, so transparent it was almost a sin to take advantage of it. Almost.

Poppy:

Prove it 💅🏻

Typing… typing… nothing… typing… typing…

Tushi-face🤡:

I’m going to regret this, am I?

Poppy:

Sending the location now

With a smug smile, Poppy send to Beck the location where the Club Malibu was. It was a exclusive place where only the elite could go. Yes, she said Zoey was temporarily off limits… but she didn't say she wouldn't be taking her chances up.

Tushi-face🤡:

Clubbing? Not my kind of place really

Poppy:

Ew, when you put it like that you sound so boring

Tushi-face 🤡:

Why do you want me there anyways?

Poppy:

All in due time, Farmsville

All in due time 😘

~~X~~

Poppy check the hour in her phone once again, it was almost 10 pm and she was already expecting Beck to show up because of the paranoia. Her foot tapping repeatedly against the floor it was the proof everyone around her needed to know she was nervous. What the hell took them so long? Did Beck decided to ditch her last minute?

Was it Zoey Wade´s fault?

She swore to god she´ll kill the girl after a humiliating and memorable reve…

“Could you calm down already? They already here” She heard Bradley say and immediately look right at the door, where Beck was being escorted to the V.I.P. area just like she asked for.

Damn, the dude knew their ways.

Beck was looking fucking hot, the black scheme really suits them and the way the shirt showed his muscles caused a lot of eyes stick to them as thirsty bastards. To top it all, the song playing in the back and Beck´s expressions were on point to make them look sexy as hell. Feeling a pang of jealousy, Poppy frowned. At what point will this bitches stop looking Beck like a piece of meat? Disgusted, Poppy stood up from her seat, very willing to show all these whores who they were competing against. With a sexy and confident smirk, the strawberry blonde walked towards Beck, sashaying her hips seductively, quickly catching Beck´s gaze.

And she loved it.

She could see the gasp, how the air escaped their lungs and redness taking over their face. Oh how she adored to cause that effects in Beck, all those girls didn’t have a chance. Embracing their strong arm, Poppy smile at them leaning her body against them, drawing a property line.

“Hey there, Tushi-face. I´m glad to see you´re not totally incapable of following directions.” She greeted them, leading the way to the exclusive section.

“Nice to see you too, Poppy.”

“Really? That was all?”

“I have to say… You´re looking fine tonight”

“Yeah, that´s what I thought”

“Is that your attempt at flattery, Farmsville?” She was not going easy on them.

“I´m not stupid enough to try and flatter you. I was just stating facts.” Oh god, that was so cliché she even scoffed. How many times have her hear that before? But something about Beck being the one to say it, turned her perfect pout into a haughty smile. As she was saying, pretending with Beck was easy, it came to her naturally, effortless.

“Maybe you´re more observant than I gave you credit for. I like it. And I have to say, I´m shocked. For once you don’t look completely unfortunate. And here I thought you were a total lost cause.” She joked, smiling just like before while having lunch.

“Wow, back to squared one already with sucking compliments?” Beck smirked, a total funny jerk.

“Try not to push your luck, Farmsville. You don´t want to be on my bad side, again.”

“Really? I don’t see the difference.” They pointed out, testing her. Poppy came closer to them, completely pressing her body against Beck´s arm, letting them feel her heat, her breast, her perfume. The distance between the two was so close that Poppy could feel their fresh breath, her own heart beating fast, excited as she whispered in their ear.

“Stay with me through the night and I promise I´ll give you a taste of the differences…”

Their dilated pupils, the small, imperceptible shiver in their body and that cute yet sexy gesture in their face that appeared after Poppy move away was all she needed to see. She actually liked them…

And she was gonna have them.

-----

#zoey wade #queen b zoey #queen b choices #choices #trans #ftm #poppy x mc #malemc #poppy min sinclair #bea hughes #Beck Hughes #choices stories you play #choices poppy #choices queen b mc #mc x poppy

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angelsunflowers-fanfics · 5 years ago

Text

Handsome Jack A.I. x Female!reader (Reuniting with an old lover)

Request: Heya! Are you taking requests? I was wondering if you could please do the “Every time I see you, my heart skips a beat” prompt with AI Jack from TFTB? Like he’s in Rhys’s head back on the Hyperion base and he sees his old girlfriend and he wants to use Rhys’s body for a bit to go talk to her/see her again. First-person point of view from AI Jack’s perspective and she/her pronouns for the reader. Thank you so much, I love your writing!

Fandom: Tales from the borderlands

Pov: Jack’s

Genre: Fluff

Linktree

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Everything felt fuzzy, like an old TV blaring white noise from its speakers. My form, my AI form, was still tangible and solid. So it must be from Rhys knocking his head out so much. He was gonna get some serious brain trauma if he kept that up.

Why couldn’t I be stuck in somebody else’s head? Anyone? I’d even take Rhys’ weirdly beefed up friend. Just anyone beside this dork. At the start of our little adventure, I found out that he was obsessed with me. And I mean, who could blame him? All I needed to do was find that machine and get my body back. It was still a prototype but I was out of options at this point.

Helios… it didn’t look that different from when I last left it but… it still felt different. Why did it feel different? I could worry about that later, or never. I hadn’t decided yet. The walls were still yellow, just how I liked it. People were bustling and rushing to their next task like busy bees. The view was fine, from up here you wouldn’t be able to tell that Pandora was a planet full of psychos and murders. It actually looked pretty okay.

“We gotta get to the center of Helios…” Rhys mumbled to himself.

Ugh… I’d kill to be stuck in (y/n)’s head…

Shit, (y/n)...

It had been a while since i’d thought of her. I wondered if she was still up here. For her safety, I hope she was.

I wondered how she was doing, We both lost Nisha and then a week later I was killed… I had no idea what toll that took on her. Luckily for her safety, I kept her identity and relationship to me and Nisha a secret. We all thought that was best… I hoped vault hunters didn’t find out about her. She was still young, she could find a future still. I wanted her to, even if I couldn’t because I was too power-hungry and blind to what was happening from my own hands.

I wanted to hold her in my arms, just one more time… To tell her that’s I was sorry and how much I loved h--

Oh my, god… it was her. (y/n) was in the library, why was she up so high just shelving books? I thought she was a technician for the weapons… What had happened since I’d been gone?

What had changed…? But (y/n); She looked the same like no time had passed. She looked beautiful but tired… I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around her…

God, I could feel my face heating up and my stomach was fluttering. I hadn’t felt this way about anybody else before in my life. It was a strange feeling.

It was kind of hypnotic just to watch her do something as mundane as putting books on shelves in a library. She could make anything look graceful.

“Jack, what are you doing?” Rhys startled me out of my thoughts. I jumped out of my skin as Rhys snoke up behind me. Crap, did he try to leave? I didn’t want to make (y/n) to well known but-- ”We kind of nee--”

I turned to stand in front of him, staring him down. I needed to speak to her, hear her voice again.

“Let me use your body,” I demanded him.

Rhys was unfazed by this point, he had been stuck with me for weeks, far too long in my opinion. At first, it was kind of interesting but he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts, as did I. I didn’t need him snooping around with me either.

Rhys slowly opened his mouth to ask why, I was sure, but I cut him off, already having an explanation thought through, “I want to talk to my lovely girlfriend for a bit and she can’t exactly hear me in this form.”

Rhys’ eyes creased in confusion, not too much of my personal life was ever leaked so I was sure that he had some questions that I didn’t have time for.

“I thought she--Nisha died… a while ago,” He murmured.

I rolled my eyes at the comment but gestured to the noticeable form on the ladder in the library.

“Me, Nisha and (y/n) We’re a throuple or we used to be at least,” I explained.

Rhys stared at me blankly, wait, was he judging me? No, that wasn’t happening! He was the last guys that should judge me about my personal life, I’d been rooting around his head for weeks, he had some weird stuff in there.

“Don’t judge me! (y/n) kept us in line when we went too far off the rails… We were chaotic and she was soft and patient,” I snapped.

God, I missed her. It didn’t feel like it had been long, but I was sure that it was for her. I couldn’t even imagine what it had been like for her, for my Honey-bunches.

Before Rhys could answer, not like he had many choices in the matter anyway, the large ladder began to topple and shake as a few employees brushed past it roughly. Oh no. As (y/n) started to fall from the high ladder, time slowed down. I had just enough time to take control over Rhys’ body and caught (y/n) in his noodle arms. Luckily, his arms didn’t give out because of my control. He’d pay for dropping (y/n), that was certain.

“Caught you again, Honey-bunches,” The mixing of my own voice with Rhys’ shocked her.

She looked up at Rhys wildly. That was good, she clearly heard my voice. There might be a little hope just yet. She quickly climbed out of Rhys’ arms and crossed her arms over her chest. Even mad she looked like a goddess. How?

“Only one person knows about that and he’s--” She stopped talking… God, her voice was so pretty. I almost forgot about it. Between her and Nisha, I was always flustered. (y/n) didn’t even have to try. “It’s impossible, right?” She sounded hopeful, I needed to keep that up. I didn’t want to see her upset. How long had it even been to her? (y/n) looked as if she was about to cry, it had to be at least a year, right?

“Nakitiyama, or whatever the hell his name was, put an a.i. of me or meat-bag Jack into his I.D. drive… Guess that's why I'm here now,” I explained to (y/n).

(y/n) wiped a few stray tears away from her face as she contemplated the situation clearly. Please believe me. I need you to. (Y/n) actually chuckled a bit at my choice of words. I always knew how to make her laugh.

“It's possible. I… Okay,” She trailed off.

I could see tears brimming, about to fall and there's nothing I could do to comfort her physically. I made Rhys reach a hand out to grab one of hers, this was the best I could do right now. She was almost glaring at the floor. What was she thinking about?

“Is… Is Nisha here too or…?” She asked.

I didn’t answer, it was too hard to think about. I was just grateful that (y/n) wasn’t killed while I wasn’t around. But by not answering, (y/n)’s eyes casted to me, a knowing look, like she already knew the answer to her own question.

I gripped her hand a tad touch tighter before speaking, “Every time I see you, my heart skips a beat.”

A sensation of pride swelled up in my chest seeing (y/n)’s face flare up with a blood rush because of my words. I was sure that it had been a long time for her… but for me? It felt like we were just talking about it… leaving Hyperion and starting a family. Shit…

“Jack-” She started to say before I felt my nerves being pushed and shoved around as Rhys took control again.

I thought I would have more time. His body shuddered almost violently, stopping (y/n) from saying anything as she stared at Rhys conversing with me. His hold on her separated almost too violently for my liking.

“What the hell, Rhys? That wasn't nearly enough time,” I snarled to him.

Rhys gained his bearings again. I guess I couldn’t take over his body for long periods of time anymore. Great. How was I supposed to-

“Is he gone?” (y/n) accidently interjected my thoughts.

Luckily, I didn’t have to tell Rhys to translate everything I wanted to tell (y/n), that would be a pain. Rhys retold the predicament that we were in with me being inside his head and all. She looked almost hurt. Man, this sucked. There was a machine in my office and last I remembered you could create an actual body with A.I.’s. It had to work. I turned to Rhys and began to relay my message to him so he could tell (y/n).

“There’s a machine in my office that I have, I haven’t had it tested but… It could work,” I said.

(y/n) shifted awkwardly, she was uncomfortable. It was clear as day but there was nothing I could do to comfort her at the moment. Soon. I’d be able to. Soon enough. Rhys bit on his bottom lip, thinking over the situation. We needed to go into my office anyways for Gortys’ beacon. Hit two birds with one stone and all that, right?

“Okay, but how do we get there? I don’t have clearance for that,” Rhys told me.

(y/n) watched Rhys with an unsteady gaze, I knew she was still uncertain about me but she hadn’t run off yet. There was a chance, I knew there was.

I smirked to myself lightly, the trap door. We could easily get through there. It was on the prison level if I wasn’t mistaken. Rhys was quick to notice my expression, He had caught onto me.

“I’m surprised that You being such a big --Obsessive-- fan of me didn't know about the trapdoor in my office…” Rhys didn’t say a word, not understanding what I was insinuating at. I rolled my eyes at his dumbass before gesturing in an upward direction. “We can go up the trapdoor, get into my office. Easy-Peazy.”

Rhys ran a hand over his face like I was the one stressing him out. Unbelievable. Wow. I am a delight to be around and he could ask anybody.

He was mumbling out loud to himself again, I’d think it was weird unless I knew that (y/n) did the exact same thing, which I did and she does. I glanced over to her, checking in on her. I knew all of this could be stressful to handle at once.

"I really don't want to risk my life by crawling up a trapdoor," Rhys told me.

The small comment gained (y/n)'s attention in a heartbeat. She glanced at Rhys, eyes narrowing. A light-hearted laugh escaped her for the first time today.

"He, uh, Jack used to throw people down there when he got bored during meetings. It got messy," (y/n) explained to Rhys.

(Y/n) pulled at the key card attached to her belt clip. It almost looked like the one I had… right? Man, so many things were still too fuzzy for me. Why? What the hell did Nakayama do?

"--But I actually have access to his old office," (y/n) told Rhys, wiggiling the pass.

Rhys took the incentive to follow (y/n) through the halls of Helios, leading us to my office. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander to her form, she looked smaller than I remembered… I’d be able to hold her soon… I NEEDED to. I couldn’t go another minute without being to reach out and touch her.

My fists tensed tightly, I was so close to holding her. I looked to (y/n) and took over Rhys’ voice once more, to get a final sentence out before she’d actually be able to hear my own voice.

“This better work.”

#handsome jack #handsome jack ai #handsome jack x reader #handsome jack ai x reader #Borderlands x reader #Borderlands #tales from the borderlands #tales from the borderlands x reader

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dtkcosmos · 4 years ago

Text

Even If You Were A Star

♡

"hyungie"

"yes, Jungkookie"

"that star looks like you" as Taehyung shifts his gaze to where Jungkook wants it to be, at the star, shining bright in the dark sky. the 5-year-old Jungkook coils up in a ball after saying that, clinging to his hyung, the 7-year-old hugs him back as they fall asleep on the rooftop in the little shed made up of cozy blankets and pillows.

☾

as the years pass by, things change eventually, they both grow up into the individuals they are, their little shed now gets transformed into a bigger one. instead of playing and spending time together for the whole day, they now meet at night and stargaze together until they fall asleep in each other's embrace.

no matter how harsh the day has been on them, there's always a longing feeling for seeing each other, every night, at /their/ place. they can only meet at night, thanks to Jungkook's parents. they seem to have a weird connection with the nights, Jungkook thinks it's because the night holds an unknown sense of vulnerability and endearment.

☾

and just like any other night, Taehyung is waiting for Jungkook to come, on the rooftop at Taehyung's, in their shed.

except, Jungkook is late, a little extra late than compared to the other times he had to sneak out of his home. things have been difficult, ever since that incident when they were 15 and 17 respectively.

a cool breeze flows, making Taehyung shiver. a memory suddenly resurfacing.

"hyungie, whom do you kiss?" a curious Jungkook asks, such things have been forbidden from him by his parents.

"you kiss whom you love, like my parents do. haven't you seen your parents do that?"

"no" Taehyung looks at Jungkook as he sees him thinking too much about it.

"why are you asking me this all of a sudden?"

"because Jay said he kissed Liah and it felt nice."

Taehyung looks back at sky as he find himself out of words, not knowing what to say.

"I wanna feel nice too."

"what? no, Jungkook that's not right. we are minors and we shouldn't be talking about or doing all this."

Taehyung retorts, but Jungkook cups Taehyung's face with his palms.

"I wanna know what it feels to kiss your loved one, hyung, because I love you."

Taehyung wants to protest, tell the younger that they shouldn't be doing this. he's afraid, scared if their parents know about this, they are gonna get into trouble.

"we shouldn't do this Jungkook. we are gonna get into trouble if anybody sees us."

"hyungie, just one. don't you love me?"

"of course, I do kookie. but-"

"a quick one, please."

"okay"

silence for a moment, a tad bit of hesitation, and then both leaning towards each other, hearts beating faster than ever, they close the distance between them a little by little. and when their lips brush against each other, they feel the sparks. leaning more and pressing their lips together. the adrenaline rush and the bewildered feeling that makes them feel things they were unexposed to.

as they part away, eyes closed, leaving a little space between their lips only to press their lips together, once again. breathing and melting into the kiss, cheeks flushed and both their faces adapting a shade of red, the warmth making them feel secure.

and they didn't notice the footsteps coming towards them, too lost in the feeling.

"JUNGKOOK!" and a yell of his name is enough to separate them, the feeling of home soon turns into a terrified one. they have been caught, red-handed by Jungkook's mother.

and since that day, the tortures and strictness on Jungkook have been increased to the level that he has to sneak out of his house at night to meet Taehyung.it has been 3 years and they did not bring up that kiss after that, just spending time together in deep conversations or in that comfortable silence they share, just by looking at the sky full of stars and the moon.

stealing glances when the other isn't looking is a part of this as well but this secret can stay in both their hearts for now.

☾

"hyungie" Taehyung looks behind him, his excited expression turning into a mix of worried and horrified.

"Jungkook! oh my god" Taehyung helps Jungkook sit.

Taehyung is horrified, worried, and angry. seeing those bruises that sit on the cheek, under the eye, and on the left corner of his lips, not forgetting the fact that these are just the ones visible. the moonlight that falls on the milk skin of Jungkook, makes it easier to see the bruises that could be missed in the darkness.

and here's Taehyung, taking the first aid box out, which he kept in the shed ever since the night Jungkook showed up with bruises for the first time.

"did he hurt you again?" asks Taehyung as he places a tissue under Jungkook's slightly bleeding nose, wiping off the blood and applying the ointment soon after on the corner of his lips.

a nod and he gets it all.

Jugkook's father beats him up. there are various reasons, be it for the so-called methods to keep your child on track or to force him into things that are "right" for him according to them.

"they want me to leave this place and move to Seoul with them for my better future."

Taehyung knew this day would come but it's easy to imagine until it comes to reality.

he feels sad, correction, extremely sad with the idea of them not being able to see each other like they do now but it is for Jungkook's good and he always wants Jungkook to be happy and successful.

he feels the pad of Jungkook's thumb on his cheekbone wiping off the tear that dared to escape without his knowing.

"I don't want to go, not without you. I told them I will not go, said some disrespectful things out of anger, and-"

"and your father beat you up?" a nod and Taehyung continues

"you should agree to this, they want you to have better. things are much better in Seoul-"

"but you won't be there. hyungie, I want to be with you. I can't accept the idea of not being able to see you. the nights we have spent together knowing each other, you being there for me whenever I needed you. our safe place, I don't want to leave all this."

a pause.

"see that star there, the one you say reminds you of me?" Taehyung points towards the a particular star, the star Jungkook cherishes the most.

"mmnnh"

"look up to it whenever you'll miss me, talk to it whenever you feel like talking to me. it will reach me."

"how will it reach you?"

"the universe loves you so much Jungkookie that it placed all its stars in your eyes. the universe will transfer your messages to me. and when the star twinkles, know that I am there, listening to you."

"I-I don't know h-hyung, I don't w-want to l-leave you"

Jungkook bursts into tears, feeling the pain of separation and seeing him like this, all the tries that Taehyung has been making to hold his tears back seem to fail. and they cry, together. there's a weight in their hearts, an unknown feeling telling there's something that's left to be spoken.

"I will come back and take you with me, once I am capable and mature enough. and then, we will live together."

"I want you to be happy Jungkook, with or without me. my happiness is you, whatever you feel, I feel it too."

laying facing each other on those warm blankets in the slightly cool night, fingers intertwined and in between their little sobs and sniffles, they make promises and say things that their hearts were longing to say.

"I love you, hyungie"

Taehyung feels his heart race, eyes wide, his heart suddenly having a feeling of ease in between those heavy emotions.

Jungkook loves him, of course, he knew that for a long but being loved by Jungkook in this way and not just as affectionate best friends, feels nice.

it feels nice knowing his feelings are reciprocated. he was unsure of telling Jungkook about his feelings, afraid of putting an extra burden of emotions on Jungkook knowing how hard the latter's life already is because of that incident.

"I-I love you too, Jungkookie" it comes out as a whisper, feeling free on exposing those feelings somewhere other than his own heart and mind, it's nice.

"I love you, Jungkookie. I love you so much." he says again, a little more confident this time.

"I have been wanting to tell you this since so long-"

his words are silenced when he sees the younger sleeping, holding hands with him, breathing softly.

Taehyung traces a finger from the younger's forehead and tucks the strand of hair behind his ears. wiping off the tears that are starting to dry up in their place. watching him sleep so peacefully, like a baby, his baby, taking in his features in the memory, knowing he has the chance right now.

"I love you, kook"

with that being said, he embraces Jungkook into a hug and falls asleep, engulfed in the warmth they share.

and the universe witnessed everything.

☾

another day and here is Taehyung, smiling into oblivion, lost in his thoughts, the fact that Jungkook loves him is giving him butterflies in his stomach. the food in front of him long forgotten.

"Taehyung finishes your food first." a call from his mother is what brings him back to reality. he smacks his head lightly and smiles to himself.

"aren't you going to bid your farewell to Jungkook? they might leave soon."

"leave soon? they are leaving now?!" appalled by the news, he suddenly gets up from the chair, hitting his knee on the table in the process. it pains but this can wait, Jungkook is more important.

"his mother called an hour ago-"

Taehyung storms out of his home, running recklessly, stumbling, and tripping in the way scrapping his knees but all he cares about at this moment is Jungkook.

and when he was about to reach Jungkook's house, he saw a car, ready to leave. the tears forming in his eyes making the vision blurry as he sees the vehicle move.

before it delays any, he gathers up all his strength to scream a name, "Jungkookie!"

maybe the younger was hoping for his arrival because as soon as he hears his name being called by the person he loves, he tries his best to peek his head out of the window, eyes and nose red because of prior crying and screams "hyungie"

Taehyung sees Jungkook's mother preventing him from doing so, pulling him back to his seat and he stands there, unable to do anything, crying in his place.

"I will come back to you" each word sounding lower than the prior, as the car continues to move away from Taehyung.

he continues to stand there, hands hung low, heart aching seeing those tears in Jungkook's eyes as he protested his mother's efforts to keep him from talking to Taehyung.

with scraped knees and the palm of his hands bleeding, he finally bursts into a sob, not caring if anyone sees him like this. the only thing that kept him sane until yet is taken away from him before his eyes and he couldn't do anything.

those last words from his love ringing into his ears, louder each passing second. he falls onto his knees, head hung low, tears falling effortlessly onto the ground as he continues to cry more.

"I l-love you J-Jungkook" and yet, once again, those four words remain unheard by Jungkook.

☾

3 years later

"you can't go back to him Jungkook!" Jungkook's mother yells at him after knowing that Jungkook wants to visit Taehyung.

"why not? I am an adult now, I can make my own decisions. you can't tell me what I should do and what I should not!" Jungkook retorts back, not believing his parents haven't changed a bit.

"he has corrupted you, that homophile corrupted you. you were a good son of ours-"

"do not speak wrong of hyung! I will not tolerate this, say whatever you want to me but not a word against, Taehyung hyung!" he warns his mother, now starting to fume.

"you have made my life miserable but now, you can't stop me from loving him, from going back to him" Jungkook speaks, voice heavy filled with anger as he keeps eye contact with his mother.

"huh, as if he loves you. he is getting married, he doesn't love you. just as I said, that queer doesn't deserve your love."

"I said enough!" a loud smash sound follows his mother's last words, cupboard glass shattered onto the floor, blood dripping from Jungkook's fist.

"you don't believe me? you'll believe what that boy wrote in his stupid letter? here"

his mother throws the letter on the dining table, Jungkook hesitates but gets a hold of it.he wishes what his mother said to be a lie, hating the letters written on it.his heart aches more with each unfold of the letter, and he feels his knees getting weak upon reading those starting words,

Dear Jungkookie.

he reads how Taehyung writes he couldn't reach out to him any sooner because he didn't know how to tell him that he fell out of love with him and would be married until this letter reaches Jungkook.

how he doesn't want to see Jungkook anymore and how he is happy without him.

tears don't stop flowing from his eyes, his heart sinking deeper with each word he reads. on the floor on his knees, he doesn't know how to react, what to think, considering this is Taehyung's handwriting and the letter is not any counterfeit hurts him more.

and all those moments they have spent together start to play like a movie before his eyes, his hyung's boxy smile, the worry in his eyes whenever Jungkook was hurt, the genuine happiness when they were together, the unspoken words of comfort and love, everything.

he doesn't want to believe this but he has no reason not to and he hates, he hates himself for believing that his hyung really fell out of love and doesn't love him anymore. hates himself for believing that his hyung doesn't want to see him again. but still, he does, he believes all of that.

but nobody can change the love he has for Taehyung, not even he himself.

every night, he finds himself in his balcony, watching the star, the star that reminds him of Taehyung.

every time, he finds himself complaining on how his boss makes him work extra hours, his parents asking him to marry and get settled, and crying himself to sleep after all that nagging, hugging the plushie, the only memory he has of Taehyung which he managed to bring from a sleeping Taehyung's plushie collection.

☾

5 years later

December 30th,

"happy birthday, hyung. I hope you are doing fine. I hope your partner is making you happy. wherever you are, I hope you are happy." Jungkook says as he watches the star in the sky.

"you know what happened today? I tripped in a meeting while giving a presentation, it was embarrassing although I somehow managed to wind it up pretty well."

"I ordered tteokbokki and they made it extra spicy. I ended up coughing with teary eyes and snot. it was more embarrassing. so I ate burgers instead."

there's a pause, a sigh leaves Jungkook's mouth and he continues

"I remember.. your love for burgers. I remember how your eyes used to lit up every time I brought burgers for us."

"I remember you eating in a pout, how your brows furrow a little when you eat.

I remember.. y-you, hyung."

there's a moment when he looks down towards his fingers fidgeting together. tears finding their way in his eyes and his vision blur when he looks back up at the star.

"I-I miss y-you h-hyungie, I m-miss you s-so much" and the tears that were threatening to escape, finally follow the path they were familiar to, from his cheeks to his jaw and further.

"do y-you, do y-you still l-love m-me?" and his eyes widen upon seeing the star twinkle, in an unusual way that Jungkook isn't familiar with.

"i-is that a y-yes?" another twinkle.

"h-hyungie, I w-wish to see y-you again." another twinkle.

and maybe that's the final assurance he needed to go back to that place again, to see his hyung again.

☾

and that's how, after two weeks, he finds himself standing in front of Taehyung's house, contemplating whether or not he should go in.

what if Taehyung gets angry upon seeing him? what if Taehyung's partner throws him out of their place? and many more what-ifs.

"excuse me, do you need any help?" he turns around, an unfamiliar person looking at him as if asking him why he is here and whom for?

"umm.. I came to see.. Taehyung hyung"

"are you Jungkook?" his brows knit together upon hearing his name from the stranger. does he know him?

"excuse me, are you Jungkook?" the stranger asks again pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.

"ah yes, I am. how do you know me-"

"it took you too long, you should've come earlier."

"I know he's married but-"

"so you believed that letter?" Jungkook finds himself even more confused now, what is this guy talking about?

"excuse me, but, who are you? and what are you trying to say?"

"I am Jimin, Taehyung's friend. it's better if we talk inside, you have a lot to know about"

Jungkook is seated in Taehyung's house. the nostalgic feeling, suffocating yet comforting.

"where is Taehyung hyung? Mr. and Mrs. Kim? did they go somewhere and leave the house on you?"

"here, have some water first." Jungkook takes the glass of water he is offered. waiting for the stranger named Jimin to explain everything to him.

Jimin takes a seat in front of Jungkook, a sigh escaping his mouth in the process.

"Taehyung waited for you, for all these years. he was holding onto the promise you made 5 years ago like a child holding his dearest candy. refusing to let go no matter how much you tell him that it is going to give him tooth decay. he wrote letters to you, so many of them. but you only got the one your parents allowed to. he cried every night waiting for you to come back. but you, you got late, Jungkook."

"h-hey, what do you mean?" Jungkook feels uneasy, pushing away all those negative thoughts that were surfacing his conscience.

"I swear I won't spare you if you are messing with me."

"so much has happened since you left. Mr. and Mrs. Kim went back to some other place to live days ago...

and Taehyung, was diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia last year, fourth-stage blood cancer. terrifying, isn't it? we were terrified too.

he wanted to wait for you until you finally come back, see you again, hear your voice again, even if it were for the last time. but fate had other plans. he even wrote a letter to you, telling you not to be late so that can he can see you before he's no longer able to"

Jungkook is shocked, not being able to comprehend the truth that has been unfolding before him.

"all these past years, for as long as I were with him, there wasn't a day he didn't talk about you. do you remember the day you left? with that promise of yours which you neglected like it was nothing? how could you believe that bullshit? how could you believe that Taehyung fell out of love?

you were so heartless for not having faith in him, for not having faith in your love."

the word guilty is nowhere close to what Jungkook is feeling right now. Jimin is right, how could he? and just when he felt losing himself into oblivion thoughts, Jimin continues again,

"do you wanna know why he wrote that letter? because your mother forced him to." and hearing those words makes Jungkook look at Jimin in aghast.

"yes, she came here and I wasn't feeling good about it but Taehyung stopped me from doing anything because she's your mother. she said terrible things to him, from how he corrupted you to how he is making your life a living hell just by being in it.

she made him write that letter so that you could forget him and start a better life. she hurt Taehyung in ways that couldn't be fixed.

only if she wasn't your mother, nobody has right to say those things to Taehyung. he wrote that letter so that your parents won't hurt you anymore so that you don't suffer.

he wanted to replace the pain with hate, to make you hate and forget him before he leaves the world."

"h-he sacrificed so much so for you Jungkook, he suffered so much for you. what for? for you to question his love and abandon your promise?

even on his deathbed, he was asking me if you changed your mind and returned. even when he was spewing out blood, he was missing you and the last word he spoke was your name.

he was so strong to fight this long. he was right, the universe sees everything.

the universe saw h-him suffering what he did not deserve and maybe that's why... that's why it c-called Taehyung up t-there. to e-end his p-pain. on.. on his l-last b-birthday.

y-you took t-too long J-Jungkook"

and with that Jimin buries his face into his palm, crying. Jungkook cannot help the tears that are free-flowing, still in the process to comprehend everything.

he wants to deny everything Jimin has told him, doesn't want to believe that he can't see his hyung anymore.

"t-tell me y-you are l-lying J-Jimin, t-tell me i-it ain't true" Jungkook hopes, hopes that Jimin says he's lying and Taehyung is still here but Jimin's next words slap the reality on his face, hard.

"h-he loved y-you Jungkook. m-more than y-you c-could ever t-think."

"c-can I v-visit his g-grave?" Jungkook end up asking, engulfed by guilt and pain.

☾

the sight of the cemetery making his knees weak, his guts to coil up and his throat to feel heavy just like his heart. they are now standing in front of Taehyung's grave, Jungkook is holding a wreath of lavenders.

lavenders, Taehyung's favorite flowers because of their purple color and symbolism of devotion, grace, and purity, just as Taehyung himself.

"look hyungie, I came. f-finally." Jungkook begins as he kneels down before the grave, tearing up once again seeing the name engraved on the stone, Kim Taehyung.

"it t-took me time, I'm s-sorry for t-taking so l-long. for abandoning t-the promise I-I made, for l-letting you s-suffer a-alone.

only i-if I came a-any s-sooner. only if I h-had more f-faith in u-us. I would h-have seen y-you, even if i-it were for the l-last time.

I.. I love you, h-hyungie. I l-love you so m-much. only i-if I could t-tell you this holding y-your hand once m-more, like t-that night."

Jungkook's head hung low as he cries, Taehyung is no more with them.

he cannot hold his hand and tell him he loves him, he cannot look into those beautiful brown orbs anymore which held so much care for Jungkook, he cannot feel the heartbeat of the heart which had love for him deeper than any ocean, he cannot feel the warmth that made him feel the safest in the whole universe.

he has lost his person, his love, his Taehyung, way before he could have them.

"I k-know you a-are going to s-see me from u-up there because I'll s-see you t-too. I know y-you are going to l-love me, because.. because I-I'm going to l-love y-you too"

Jungkook breaks, into pieces he could never count, his little sniffles and sobs turn into loud wails, accepting

the reality is one of the most difficult things.

that's not what they have planned or even thought of, this is nothing like the happy future nostalgia love brings with itself.

they thought of living together, loving each other more and more each passing day, that they still might do. they thought of having each other by their sides. the longing for each other,

the longing they always craved for.

isn't it brutal of love? to make you feel those things? to make you long for your lover? to make you feel good with the idea of being together?

forever, the biggest fraud concept that is associated with love as a free gift.

sure, this is definitely not what Jungkook and Taehyung longed for,

but fate, brutal in ways you cannot imagine, had other plans.

☾

and maybe, if there is a possibility, in an alternate universe, their fate will turn out to be better.

a universe where their unfulfilled love can be fulfilled.

a universe where the symbol of their love, will change from daffodils to ambrosia.

♡

-end.

#taekook #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #alternate universe #unrequited love #no happy ending

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antonradke-music · 4 years ago

Text

DJ’s: YOU AREN’T PRODUCERS. TAKE THAT WORD OUT OF YOUR SOCIAL BIOS.

Possibly controversial opinion:

TLDR: DJ's: If you're not posting original music, edits, remixes, or anything of the sort. Please don't put "producer" in your SoundCloud bio. It's alot like that guy in High School who would say "Yea man I play guitar, I shred like, all the time" then you hand him a guitar and he just starts goin ham with a poorly executed and under-practiced "Smoke on the Water" or "Enter Sandman" opening riff. On repeat. The entire time he plays. Except with DJ/Producers you can't just hand someone a laptop to "hear them shred on a DAW" so its alot easier to get away with in our EDM world.

FULL RANT: There is a huge difference between "DJ" and "Producer" and there isn't a single thing wrong with just being a "DJ" and not both. People still need and want DJ mixes. There's zero shame in admitting that you don't, or don't know how to, produce music.

It only bugs me (and to be clear, it doesn't even bug me all that much) coz producers like myself and my friends spend countless hours learning and mastering our craft, so that title of "producer" is somewhat earned in my opinion. You can't just download a DAW and say "I'm a producer" if you've never once truly used it.

Producers create. DJ's mix. If your SC page is only mixes, you're a DJ. If your SC page contains original content/music you created yourself, then there's nothing wrong with adding that "producer" bit in your bio. Even if what you're posting is ID's, WIPs, ideas, bootlegs, etc. It doesn't need to be fully finished and mastered music. If you created it, you produced it, you are a producer on some level (beginner/intermediate/TUNE GOD, etc)

If you're a DJ now, and are just now learning to produce, just wait until you start posting/uploading your tunes. THEN add that fabled "producer" title to your socials.

I'm also not alone. Myself and several of my producer friends have expressed at least some frustration towards the DJ's that both call themselves a producer in their socials and even (sometimes) out in public. It can definitely be a "wtf" moment (and this has literally happened to me before) when you are talking to someone, be it an Entertainment/Booking manager or a bigger DJ, telling them about your music and your work. Then another DJ shows up and starts doing the same. But you know that person, and you're aware of the fact that they've never made a tune or have even tried to start learning.

Now there's the possibility that someone who's never worked on tunes in their life could get the credit or booking that you were working so hard for, and they didn't spend a minute doing the same. They just happen to be VERY good at talking to promoters, knowing what they want to hear, and manipulating the truth to fit a narrative that will get them hired or booked. And this has happened to me. They ended up getting a better time slot than me as they grossly exaggerated their SoundCloud stats, and played a song to the promoter by an underground artist claiming that it was their own. I kept my mouth shut. I should have spoken up, but I didn't think his ploy would work and I was new to that particular local scene, I wanted to avoid burning bridges or looking salty/bad. His set ended up being really rough, he'd lied about knowing CDJ gear (he didn't), spent an hour trainwrecking almost every transition, the dance floor was empty by the end of his set, he left the venue in a hurry afterwards and I've never seen him since.

Unfortunately it's not like many local event managers actually care. They just want a good DJ, and they'll often believe you if you tell them you're more than just a DJ. They likely don't have a reason to doubt you, and often don't care enough to check the validity of those claims. Or maybe they don't even know the difference between "DJ" and "Producer"

So in in summary: DJ's. You're not producers. Not unless you make your own music/Unless you are a creator. And just for the record, opening a DAW, playing with Serum for a few minutes, and tossing a few loops into a bus/channel doesn't count. Take the time to learn properly how to write progressions/melodies, program sequences, mix-down your track elements, structure your tune and bonus points for doing it all without presets (learn sound design) and without loops (learn drum & pattern sequencing) If you have that DAW installed, you're already sooo much farther ahead than tons of others in your position. Hit up YouTube for some tutorials and you're on your way!

In Conclusion: Please. Please. PLEASE don't take credit for the kind of work producers spend up to 10-15 hours a track doing (my average time to finish a song entirely). You could cost a talented soul a gig or time slot they've been busting their asses for for years. There really isn't anything wrong with being JUST a DJ. Its a good thing, and still a valid and useful skillset with tons of work/gig opportunities. I played plenty of gigs before I really started calling myself a "producer". You may not get the best timeslots as compared to producers. But be honest with yourself, you could be a fantastic DJ, but who most deserves good timeslots at events? The guys with something to promote. A product to offer. And that product is their creative content/music/whatever. And that guy could be you, you just need to take the time to learn and work hard at honing your craft and skillsets.

Soooo take "producer" out of your bio if all you're posting is mixes and mashups. And if your bio says it, or you identify as a Producer, you better expect me to fuckin test you on it cause I will. Immediately. And if you don’t pull a home made, non-plagiarizing, ORIGINAL piece of creative expression/content out of your ass in that very moment then I swear to Cthulhu I will perform a social/career crucifixion (alot like “social/career suicide” except I do it to you) on you. Your ‘music career’ ends right there on the spot, ESPECIALLY if you play some underground artist and act like its your music and take credit for it. That’s just so far from ok. And I WILL notice. I was an underground non commercial radio DJ for over 2 years. and a lifelong enthusiast all around. Trust me. I will know. So just be honest with yourself, and others. Please, and thank you.

- Signed, bedroom producers the world over.

PS - I’m SERIOUS guys. I won't stay silent next time. If I see a DJ try to take credit for another artists work (especially while talking to promoters, and especially taking credit for underground artists work) I will shut that shit down instantly. I will ensure they're instacancelled on the spot and won't play a gig in that area ever again. Plagiarism is NOT COOL. Don't plagiarize. Seriously. You will never have a career in music if you make Plagiarism a part of your “strategy for success” in the music industry. And I will personally work towards ensuring that. (example: I still to this day convert people to the cancellation of DJ Bl3nd. That POS blatantly ripped off so many artists, and is a perfect PERFECT example of a DJ claiming to be a producer. But isn’t. AND he used plagiarism + ghost producers COMBINED to make it seem like he was a producer) I don’t care if you do end up learning to produce after the fact and start making decent tunes.. If you plagiarize and try to use it to advance your career, I will do everything I can to stop you. For ever.

P.P.S. - For those of you DJ's who are learning to produce, don't take any offense to this rant its not directed at you guys, and please PLEASE don't get discouraged. You're likely not even applicable to this rant as you're actually working towards the title. So let me help you in that, below this text I'll be linking a few awesome YouTube producer channels who upload educational music/producer content. As well as some links to great sample/drum kits and more useful tools to help in your learning curve. I am also always available for producing tips and advice, just send me a direct message or comment on this post and I'll give you the best answer from my own experience/abilities/knowledge. Thanks for taking the time to read this ridiculous and stupidly long rant. I hope you can see where I’m coming from. And I’m sure many actual producers can agree with a lot of my points and reasoning. Have a good one. Peep my tunes if you have some time. Peace and deuces to all! -Anton Radke

www.soundcloud.com/antonradke www.facebook.com/antonradkemusic booking/collabs/commissions/general inquiries/demos: [email protected]

Resources and tools for learning producers: Some production education channels on YouTube that I highly recommend:

Dylan Tallchief has some fantastic tutorials for many different EDM genres which cover more than just production. He talks in depth about music theory, sound design. All of it. He shows how to use both Ableton and FL Studio. HIGHLY RECOMMMEND this channel:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCIu2Fj4x_VMn2dgSB1bFyQA

For rap/hip-hop producers, I recommend watching videos made by these two gentlemen:

Praxi Plays covers tons of genres/sub genres, and different styles of commercial, and less than commercial rap/hip hop music. He teaches using FL Studio:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCAE7Doxo5WQRjLPz7JYa7Fw If you prefer darker, more underground rap music, or just less than commercial stuff in general, Based Gutta covers tons of styles of rap beats from the underground rap culture. He’s great, and also pretty hilarious. Also uses FL Studio. Oh and he does Lo-Fi stuff a whole lot as well:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCTrrlfsv-5IBQ1SgPBawT3w

COMPOSERILY is also a good one. But a lot less serious. His videos are definitely more parody and satire than anything, but there’s still lots you can learn from watching him. Tons of useful stuff in his videos. He also does both Ableton and FL Studio depending on the song/artist he’s trying to sound like.

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8Ujq8PBm0MWraaXd8MsIAQ

For drums and other samples, I highly recommend getting a Splice Account. Its incredible So many options! And you can download individual sounds. You don’t have to download an entire sample pack if you just want one kick drum that it happens to have which is great. A good brokeboi alternative would be Looperman. Its basically a discount/Wal-Mart level “Splice” style service but free.

www.Splice.com

www.looperman.com

Some useful sample kits I recommend getting for the sake of drum sequencing/programming:

XFER Pack by Steve Duda and deadmau5 (great for house and 4/4 edm genres)

BIGHEAD Sample Pack by BigHead (available on Splice) [great for trap/rap/hiphop]

literally ANY vengeance or cymatics sample pack will also be a great choice for practically any type of bass music. Face it. Bass music drums are boring and are all almost IDENTICAL from song to song (with the exception of the kick drum) so any Vengeance or Cymatics dubstep sample kit will do you justice here.

VSTs to consider: EDM: Sylenth1 (must have), Razor (underrated), Massive, Serum (must have), U-He Diva, Nexus (overrated but useful), Dblue Glitch, DBlue Tapestop, Engineers Filter (free, amazing Equalizer. deadmau5 approved), CamelCrusher, OTT (overrated but useful), Cthulhu (MIDI sequencer programmed by deadmau5, hella cool but confusing)

Rap Music VSTs to consider: Omnisphere. that’s it. I’m not kidding. A talented producer armed with Omnisphere, and a decent drum sample kit, who is very good at sampling and writing melody/progression can create THOUSANDS of Grammy worthy rap/trap beats without even once reusing an Omnisphere preset. Its like Nexus. Except it truly doesn’t suck, and is worth the absurd price tag.

-Anton Radke www.soundcloud.com/antonradke www.facebook.com/antonradkemusic booking/collabs/commissions/general inquiries/demos: [email protected]

#edm #DJ #producer #house music #bass music #dubstep bass #bass #festivals #concerts #clubs #shows #music #music industry #plagiarism

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basketballandtextbooks · 4 years ago

Note

Bat how do you feel after watching the special

There are multiple levels to my thoughts.

On a satire level, they bungled a lot of the information. They were trying to take an “all sides are stupid stance” on an issue where people are dying daily and there are actual medical reasons for one stance to be factually incorrect so taking an “all sides” stance is... fucking tone deaf. To be fair to them, I enjoyed the amount of meta that informed their episode about knowing that their episode was doing more harm than good and using Randy as a tool for that particular satire was a smart and effective mood. That said, it was a mixed message that promoted a lot of misinformation. While the meta parts were funny, lamp-shading how poor your satire is doesn’t actually make your satire good. It just means you’re lamp-shading the issue. It was disappointing because I had hoped for better as they frequently write good satire. Stan’s character journey was the only cohesive one throughout the episode and while it was a good one, there was so much of the episode that was tone deaf to the severity of this issue. While I think it’s valid to bring levity to the issue and I was hoping they would, they missed the mark by a long-shot. That said, they usually don’t do well with medical issues. The last time they bungled their satire this badly was the vaccination episode. And they infamously bungle literally every trans-related episode. There were aspects of the episode that were poignant, well thought out, and well executed, but the majority was an under-researched in-cohesive mess. Which to some extent I think that’s what they were aiming for because they view the pandemic as an in-cohesive mess. The issue is that one of the reasons that pandemic is such a pervasive issue (especially in the states) is the mass spread of misinformation so when they spread misinformation to criticize the spread of misinformation... it’s just stupid.

However on a character level I very much enjoyed the episode. It was yet another Randy focused episode and as I’ve expressed on a few occasions I just don’t find him funny. Oh no, he jizzed on the weed, that’s sooooo surprising. Honestly Randy is a very one-note character. He does something horrifying, people are horrified, he faces no consequences, rinse, repeat. That all established, I think it’s important character information that he cheated on Sharon twice in China with no guilt whatsoever. He only wanted to hide his crime because “my wife is a bitch”. Also considering he cheated with non-human entities, I think this is strong proof of Rowelie’s viability so take that as you will Rowelie shippers. Also the fact that people grow Randy mustache’s if they ingest his cum and Sharon had a mustache at the end... I sort of hate that Randy took that as proof that she smoked his weed. Now, even if she had smoked it his behavior still is completely and disgustingly inexcusable but also... everyone in South Park is openly smoking so she could have very easily gotten second hand Randy-stache. Or just given her husband a blow job. Also it’s interesting information that within universe Randy’s cum has mutagenic properties. Again for the Rowelie shippers: you could use this as an excuse as to how Towelie turns into a human, Randy’s cum mutated him. Also I think it’s likely that microwaving his balls could be what caused his radioactive jizz. Or one of the times he was experimented on by aliens. Or both. Altogether Randy was a repulsive bastard within the episode who I find boring at best BUT the amount of meta information that he introduced will be very useful to inform my theories. (Also again, the fact that he so easily and guilelessly cheats on Sharon tells me that he that he has done it a multitude of times. My theory is that after he gave Gerald a handy in the hot-tub and was forgiven he just never stopped, basically assuming the permission to do it once was broad permission to do it forever) (oh and second note: this is the second time within canon that Randy has poisoned people’s weed so uh... that’s fucked up)

Freaked out a lot about Jimbo dying, I’m really scared they’ll kill Jimbo but also since they already killed Ned I wonder if the two of them can be happy in the afterlife together because no one can convince me that Jimbo and Ned aren’t canon. Also Randy’s blatant racism and lack of empathy for Jimbo’s illness was really yikes. I dunno guys, I’ve always had a soft spot for Jimbo. He’s a stupid stereotypical red-neck but he had a sort of charm to him and I thought he was funny. I miss when him and Ned were regulars on the show.

CARTMAN DANCING AND SINGING WAS ACTUALLY THE CUTEST THING EVER ON THIS FUCKING EARTH, FIGHT ME I LOVE THIS STUPID SELFISH LITTLE CRETIN also it’s yet another episode to add to the list of “times Cartman shows he can grow into a better person” and list of “times Cartman seems to show a special soft spot for Stan”. Cartman does tend to listen more frequently when Stan asks and less frequently for literally anyone else. So the Stanman was strong in this one. Also really enjoyed the Stutters. While yes, Stan was completely using Butters as a tool to project his own feelings of unease I think it really says something that he chose Butters for that role. I think to some extent he felt that Butters might be feeling the same mortality-panic he was feeling (whether it was true or not) and that kinship he felt with Butters led him to feel that Butters was also feeling the way he did. He was panicked and he thought out of all his friends that Butters was the one who might share his feelings. I enjoy that sort of subtle connection between them and it’s been a consistent thread within the show that Butters and Stan just treat each other a little different than they do literally everyone else. It’s worth thinking about.

I think Stan was also at his limit because he was already suffering from isolation issues due to Tegridy Farms from before the pandemic. He’s always been a social boy and this brought him to the brink of what he could handle.

THEY SHOT TOKEN AND I SWEAR TO GOD YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LOUD I WAS SCREAMING AT THE TV I THINK I PISSED OFF MY NEIGHBORS i fucking knew it was coming too. The fucking SECOND they shoved those fucking corrupt ass cops in the same room as Token.... I fucking feared for his life. They’ve killed off fairly major background characters before and killing Token would be... topical. I will make it my mission to personally destroy every fucking cop in South Park (Barbrady gets a pass... BARELY). I hate them all. I’ve hated them all for a long time but they murdered several children (including Kenny, the bastards) and they SHOT MY BOY TOKEN I WILL RIP OFF THEIR FUCKING ARMS SEE HOW WELL YOU CAN SHOOT THEN YOU TRASH BASTARDS

Nothing big Kenny happened this episode, insert sad fanboy noises

There were some strong Kyman moments. Cartman went to Kyle’s house for help at the beginning of the episode, obsessed over whether or not he’d be in the same room as Kyle, tried to vomit on Kyle, AND THEN KYLE FUCKING JUMPED HIM AND BEAT HIS ASS DOWN, FUCK ALL OF YOU WHO INCORRECTLY THINK DIFFERENT KYLE IS A FUCKING DOMINANT TOP, HE DOESN’T TAKE IT, HE GIVES IT

Adding that to my long list of “episodes where Kyle shows he isn’t a pushover, is very violent, and can easily kick Cartman’s bitch ass” because every so once in awhile I have to break out that list when someone insists upon how submissive Kyle is. Bitttttttccchhhhhh, you haven’t watched the show if you think that. My favorite kid doesn’t take your shit

Very interested in Red’s new canon last name (McArthur) but I’m also unsure about it because in the scene’s where it’s shown I couldn’t quite tell if it was actually Red or Powder. She kept being shown from odd angles and her hair looked a little shorter than normal. That said, I’m happy if it is her because I’ve been wanting a canon last name for Red for a long-ass time. Even presuming you go by the cousin’s headcanon for Craig and Red, there’s no guarantee they would have the same last name.

Let’s see, I think I had some other thoughts but those were the main points

OH PAUSE THE SCREEN WHEN THE PARENTS ARE ON ZOOM it’s really cute/funny what the usernames are. For example Annie’s mom is totally just using Annie’s account so she’s probably not very tech savvy. There’s actually a lot of minor character detail that you can infer from those screen-names.

Yeah those are my major thoughts: Randy is trash, nothing new, Cartman was ADORABLE and also lots of good meta for him (I have some hcs that one of the reasons he adored the social distancing so much isn’t because he hates human contact because we know from previous seasons that he’s a bit of a lonely boy, but he likes the social distancing explicitly because it gives him an excuse to reject other people before they can reject him), good stutters moments, good kyman moments, good stanman moments, there were some style moments if you squint? Kyle was one of the people Stan consulted about his feelings of unease but since it wasn’t just Kyle that he consulted it didn’t really feel like that was a special personal part of their relationship, moreso that he wanted Kyle to kiss his booboo and make it better. Although further proof that Kyle is the dom in that relationship. Kyle was agitated over the situation but overall rational, Stan was flipping the fuck out. Stan came to him submissive, scared, and asking for Kyle to make him feel better. Kyle remained calm and logical. I swear to god if I read one more cutesy-innocent Kyle post I might flip a table. Literally Kyle’s canonical self is RIGHT THERE

OH YEAH MY BUTTERS THOUGHTS there’s nothing really new here but it continues the trend of Butters being a self centered prick. (I love him but he is) Instead of even trying to understand the number of people dying or the gravity of the situation, he’s just upset and throwing tantrums because he doesn’t get to play at Build a Bear. And it’s made explicit in the writing that unlike Stan he isn’t struggling with the nebulous fear of death (probably brought on by his uncle getting sick). Butters is just bitter that he doesn’t get to have special things. Also Stan was the only one who tried even a little to save Butters from getting taken by the guards. No one else tried to stop or warn Butters. So again, very cute Stutters moment where Stan is overtly worried for Butters’ well-being even when he’s throwing a bratty tantrum. (I don’t know how anyone perceives Butters as an altruistic person, he’s a selfish twat. he’s a lovable selfish twat, like Cartman, but he’s still a selfish twat. and none of his shitty behavior in this episode was even remotely related to Cartman so you can’t connect it to him. Butters, on his own and without anyone else’s influence, does and acts like a shit-head). There is the excuse that he’s only ten but literally everyone in that cafeteria is only ten. But Butters is the only one kicking other people’s food because he didn’t get his special prize.

This all sounds like I hate Butters. I love Butters, warts and all, I just get really annoyed when fandom ignores his warts because his warts are PART OF THE REASON I LOVE BUTTERS. Also it’s like... blatantly and observably canon that he’s selfish.

I’m going to happily ruminate on Stan feeling a strong pang of protectiveness towards Butters though. That was quite illuminating.

#official ooc tag #official ask tag #timmytimmytomcats

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ashes-and-ashes · 5 years ago

Text

Something really quickly before I go to bed :)

The house looked exactly the same as it did the night he left. The same hallway - the cabinet pushed up against the right wall, the closet door with it’s floral screen, the paint dark and dull. There was a vase on top of the cabinet, full of some sort of faded silk flowers - Remus can’t tell what colour they originally were, can’t see past the thick layer of dust on top of the petals.

Memories. That’s what this house was full of, memories and ghosts and the whispered echoes of actions long done.

He hated himself for coming back, running to his parents like he was at their beck and call. He couldn’t stop himself though - it was ingrained in him, that fatal sort of loyalty that kept him coming back.

He closes his eyes. The house felt suffocating, the walls and the windows, drips of golden amber and he was the fly that was caught in it. Remus takes a deep breath, holds it, tries not to pass out.

There’s a warm presence at his side - he knows without looking that it’s Sirius. He loses a small breath, opening his eyes to stare into Sirius’.

“Hey,” Sirius says. “Listen to me. We can go home. We can go home right now if you want to.”

“This is home,” Remus whispers. Sirius’ face tightens.

“Back then. We can go back. Those pieces of shit don’t mean anything any more.”

Remus swallows hard. The message had come a few days ago, on that rose-scented paper that his mother had always used. He couldn’t even get past the first line, her handwriting so familiar it hurt.

Dear Re,

Would you like to come over for dinner...

He couldn’t. His parents were flames and he was a moth - no matter how hard he tried to escape he couldn’t. He envied Sirius sometimes, his utter lack of regard for his parents. He wished he could do the same.

Remus grits his teeth. He allows himself a moment, just a moment to catch his breath, to lean into Sirius’ side before opening his eyes. “I’m good. I’m fine.”

Sirius nods, stepping back. Beside him, James slings his coat over one arm, eyes unusually cold.

He couldn’t do it alone. Sirius and James had agreed to come with him at once, to this house of silence and memories. He didn’t think he could bear it otherwise.

With a sigh, Remus tugs at his hair. James at least had made an effort - he’d combed his hair, dressed in a nice sweater and a button down shirt. Remus wore something similar, his jumper too scratchy and his shirt too tight. Sirius though hadn’t bothered to do anything - he’s in his ever-present leather jacket, his hair pulled into a bun at the nape of his neck.

Remus had asked him about it, before they left. Sirius just gave hiom a vicious smile, one that let Remus know that tonight wasn’t going to be easy.

“I don’t actually give a shit about your parents,” Sirius scoffed and that was that.

Light filters in from the kitchen - Remus can smell things cooking. With a sigh, he pushes the door open revealing the dining room.

It was exactly how he remembered it - wallpaper and china cabinets and that glass chandelier. Remus swallows the lump in his throat, looks down at the floor.

When he sees it, he actually flinches, so hard that Sirius grabbed his wrist. He ignores it though, the pain shooting up his arm as he stares at the rug, the gold and the red, the flowers embroidered on the side.

For a moment he can hear his father, the whistling of the belt and the snap of impact. He can see the keys dangling in his hands, disappearing into his pocket, mockingly close and so far out of reach.

James shoots him a concerned look and Remus opens his mouth - to explain or to laugh or to scream he doesn’t know when -

Sirius goes tense, every muscle in his body going rigid. Remus lets out a slow breath, drags his gaze upwards reluctantly until he locked eyes with his father.

They stand like that for what feels like eternity - his father’s stony gaze, Remus’ empty one. For a brief moment, Remus wonders if he’ll ever end up like his father - stagnant and unrepentant, forever left longing the things he could never have.

Lyall looks awkward. He shifts his weight from one foot to another before finally coughing. “Remus.”

“Dad. Where’s mum.”

“Kitchen.” Lyall drags his gaze up, holding out his hand. “I see you’ve brought guests. I’m Lyall. Remus’ father.”

Sirius snorts, rolling his eyes. James quickly cuts in before Lyall can say anything. “Hi. I’m James. I go to Remus’ school.”

Lyall nods, turning to Sirius. “And you are?”

“Oh please.” Sirius’ voice is cold, utterly blank and full of rage. He doesn’t make an attempt to calm the fire in his eyes, the utter loathing coursing through his body like blood. “You know who I am.”

“Sirius.” Lyall’s voice is disapproving. “Remus’...friend.”

“Dad,” Remus says. Fear floods his body at the look Lyall gives him. He lifts his chin though, refuses to look down. Sirius is grinning at his side, a manic, emotionless smile, the kind of boy who delighted in tearing others down. “Dad, we’ve been over this.”

Lyall doesn’t say anything, just takes his seat. There’s a clattering in the kitchen - Remus’ eyes widen as a woman rushes into the room.

She’s wearing an apron, her hair styled in a careful bun. There’s a large covered dish in her hand - she sets it carefully down on the table before taking her seat. “Hi. I’m Hope. Remus’ mother.”

Sirius turns that manic grin on her as well and she flinches away.

“So,” Lyall says, clearly trying to cut some of the tension in the room. “How are you doing today?”

Sirius cuts in before Remus can say anything. “Absolutely horrible thanks. My day just got shittier and shittier when I found out I had to come here.”

“No one is forcing you,” Lyall says, his voice like ice. “In fact, I’m surprised Remus even approved, seeing his questionable group of friends.”

The barb hits home, sliding underneath his skin like a knife. Remus shakes his head, glaring at his father. “Lay off.”

“Don’t talk to your father that way,” Hope says. Remus ignores her.

“Don’t make comments like that. We’re not stupid. We know what you’re trying to do.”

“And what is that, Remus?”

Remus looks down, at the stone floors. He can feel the memories, barely submerged underneath him.

The whistling of the belt, the cold stare of his mother, the way he dug his fingers into the rug at his feet -

“Looks like you finally got all the blood out of the carpet then.”

Lyall whips around, eyes like ice. Remus holds his gaze, refuses to drop his glance. This only seems to infuriate Lyall more.

“What are you - “

“Blood?” Sirius throws back his head and laughs. “Try Utcunque. Great for those nasty stains.”

“Young man,” Hope says. “What exactly are you trying to - “

Sirius just snorts. He’d rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, exposing the scars carved into skin. “It looks like you and my mother would get along.”

Lyall stares at the scars for a bit then shakes his head. “I have no idea what you are talking abut.”

“Don’t you?”

Hope cuts in. She turns to James - perhaps thinking he was the least hostile in this explosive mix. “So. How did you and Remus meet?”

James glares back at her. Remus doesn’t think he’s ever seen him like this, all empty and cold, eyes like stones set into his face. “On the train. To Hogwarts.”

Hope waits but James doesn’t provide any more answers. With a sigh she turns to the covered dish in the center of the table. “Alright. Re...I cooked your favourite...”

Remus watches with a sinking feeling as she scoops out macaroni and cheese onto his plate. He glances around the table - everyone is sitting rigidly in his chair except for Sirius. Sirius is slouched, arms flung over the back, head tipped up towards the ceiling. Lyall clears his throat a few times to no avail.

“Stop,” Remus says. He realizes that his hand’s clenched firmly around the prongs of the fork, the metal cutting into his skin. “Stop this. Stop pretending everything is okay.”

Lyall and Hope exchange cautious looks. “Stop what, Remus?”

“This.” Remus waves his hand, indicating the House, the room, them. “This...subfuckery. This idea that we’re some perfect family.”

Lyall shakes his head. “Remus, look - “

“Dad.” Remus cuts him off. “You are - “

“Did you know,” Sirius cuts in, eyes flashing in the dim room, “That I’ve seen Remus’ back? It’s beautiful really, all threaded with scars and cuts. And you know what else? Some of those marks match the ones on my own back. And God, I do hope that’s not what’s happening. Still, I don’t know how a werewolf can leave a mark so clearly in the shape of a buckle in the middle of someone’s shoulder blades.”

Lyall is shocked into silence for 3 whole seconds before turning on Remus furiously. “You told - “

“Oh yes,” Sirius says. “Well. We figured it out.”

“You disrespectful - “

James shakes his head, setting his cutlery down. “Disrespectful? Us?”

“How dare you come into my family’s home - “

“Oh it’s not my home,” Sirius laughs. “And Remus ran? Remember?”

Dread floods through Remus’ gut. He reaches out - Sirius’ hands are balled into tight fists at his side, nails cutting into skin. “Father - “

“How. How could you let - let him know about - “

“That what?” He can feel the anger now, coloring his words, adrenaline pulling him up into the clouds. “That I’m a Werewolf?”

A clatter makes him jump - Lyall had knocked back his chair in fury, eyes bulging. “Shut your mouth. You - “

“And an example of the extreme anger demonstrated by Lyall Lupin,” Sirius says and James lets out a low laugh. “See Remus has told be quite a bit about you. Including your temper.”

“Until you become a parent - “

“My parents tortured me, Lyall. You think I can’t recognize another one in a heartbeat?”

Remus swallows hard. Lyall levels a hate-filled glade at him. “How could you tell this - this whore that - you’re - a “

“And who’s fault was that, Father?” The anger is coming now, in waves of white hot fury that made him want to puke. “If you hadn’t criticized Grayback - “

“He deserved it!”

“That’s what you said about me. I deserved it. Didn’t I?”

Lyall’s eyes burn a hole right through him. “You were always an ungrateful brat. Coming into my house with this - this fag - “

“Don’t,” James says quietly, “Ever call him that again.”

“How could you tell a random - “

“He’s not random!” Remus spits, his vocal cords so tight he thought he’d rip them to shreds. “I’m in love with him!”

Hope gives a faint faint of gasp. “A...it’s just a phase - “

“No.”

“Re.”’ Her gaze was pleading. “Pleas. You’re already making it so hard by being a...a werewolf. Why must you make it harder for yourself?”

Remus laughs, low and wicked and brutal. “Father stared it when he challenged Grayback to prove one thing he had that Father didn’t. I can’t, Mum. I can’t live in this lie.”

“You,” Lyall says, “Will come home. We will enroll you in summer programs - “

“Like what?” Sirius spits. “Conversion camps?”

Lyall’s gaze is steady. “If that’s what it takes.”

“No.” Remus stands, chucking his napkin on his untouched plate with the same motion. “No. We’re leaving.”

Lyall just points at the door. “Get out.”

Remus flips him off and stalks out of the dining room.

#wolfstar #wolfstar angst #wolfstar fanfic #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius black angst #remus lupin angst #sirius black fanfic #remus lupin fanfic #james potter #lyall lupin #hope lupin #marauders #marauders era #marauders era fanfic

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whump-tr0pes · 5 years ago

Text

Honor bound - 9

This is a series. Start here. Previous chapter here.

Back to Isaac. Be gentle with me, I’m not used to writing “mental” whump so I did my best. I’m hoping to get my Bad Things Happen Bingo card here soon and then...I’m gonna have a field day.

Cw: death mention, death threats, kinda walks the line between self-sacrifice and self-loathing a little bit..., drowning, asphyxiation

AO3

Isaac groaned at the sound of the door opening again. “No…”

“Oh, come on,” Gavin huffed, walking into the room with Leo close behind. “I gave you 20 minutes to recover. And didn’t you just beg me to torture you? Come on, Isaac, mixed messages here.” He grinned and turned to Leo. “Get him up.”

Leo yanked him to a seated position. He cried out weakly as the welts on his back stretched and bled a little more with the movement. Leo pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked one of the manacles. Confused, Isaac raised his eyes to Gavin. He paled when he saw that Gavin was carrying a bucket of water.

“What…no…” The tears started again as Leo wrenched his arms behind his back and shackled his hands behind him. “Wait…”

Gavin set the bucket on the floor and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I swear to god, if I have to remind you about Sam every damned time I start into you, I’m gonna get real tired of that real fast.”

Isaac’s eyes were wide and fixed on the bucket. “I…I can be scared and still know why I’m here…”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “And why are you here? I’m sure we could all use a reminder.”

Isaac swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “Sam. I’m here for Sam.”

“Good. Come here.”

Trembling, Isaac drew himself to his feet. He stopped in front of Gavin, staring at the water.

“Get on your knees.”

Isaac fought back a sob. Of all things, all things Gavin could have done, he decided to start with this…

“Get on your knees. I’m not going to ask again.” Gavin’s voice had a hard edge to it.

This is…this is how… Isaac couldn’t seem to think straight. He couldn’t think of his team. He couldn’t picture their faces. The only thing that occupied his mind was the bucket of water in front of him and what he knew was about to happen.

He went down as Leo kicked him in the back of the leg. Leo forced him to his knees and yanked his head back with a hand in his hair. He could barely draw breath past the sobs. “No no no no no no…”

“Isaac.”

“No no no no please no…”

Gavin slapped him across the face. “Isaac.”

That brought him back, a little. “What…”

“You’re the one psyching yourself out right now. Have I done anything to you? Seriously.”

“No… No, I…”

“Then chill out. I’m just talking to you right now.”

Isaac nodded, shaking from head to toe.

Gavin laughed. “Well, if I doubted you were scared of drowning before I wouldn’t doubt it now. Christ.” He watched as Isaac did his best to draw in deep inhales and blow out slow exhales. He waited a few breaths. “Isaac.”

Isaac tremulously met his gaze. “What?”

“Do you know why I decided to do this next?”

Panic clutched at his stomach again. “No…”

Gavin’s slap knocked Isaac’s head to the side, despite the hold Leo had on his hair. Isaac cried out. Gavin shoved his face at Isaac as he trembled in Leo’s grasp. “I swear to god, Isaac, get your shit together right now or I kill you right here and go after Sam.”

Not Sam.

Isaac blinked the tears out of his eyes and dragged in another breath. “No.”

“Ok then. Can I continue? Please?”

Isaac nodded and pressed his lips together.

“Thanks so much.” Gavin rolled his eyes and sat crosslegged on the ground in front of Isaac, the bucket between them. “Let’s talk.”

Isaac watched him warily, his head still pulled back by Leo’s hand in his hair.

“Do you know how I knew bringing this in here would freak you out?” He nudged the bucket with his foot. Isaac flinched away as the bucket moved and stiffened as Leo tightened his grip on his hair.

“No,” he whispered.

“Oh, come on. Not even a guess?” Gavin grinned up at Isaac.

Isaac felt a chill creep into his stomach. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall behind Gavin and pressed his lips together.

Gavin glanced up at Leo and nodded. Without hesitation, Leo forced Isaac forward and plunged his head into the bucket.

Panic gripped him immediately. The feeling of cold on his face made him gasp and he drew water into his throat. He bucked hard against the hands on his shoulder and hair, but Leo’s grip was like iron as he held his head under the water. He screamed as his pulse raged in his ears. His lungs spasmed as he choked, dragging more water in.

Abruptly his head was pulled from the water. He dragged in a ragged gasp and coughed until his ribs ached. Water poured from his nose and mouth. Tears mixed with the water on his face.

Gavin reached out and grabbed his chin. “That is gonna happen every time to refuse to answer me.”

Isaac’s chest heaved with each breath as he began to sob. “You’ll…never…get anything out of me.”

Gavin tilted his head. “Aw. There’s that strong leader Sam kept going on about. But I don’t want information from you. Even if you do know things Sam doesn’t, I don’t really feel the need. I’m content I have enough if I ever need to hunt them all down.”

“No…”

Gavin held up a finger. “I’m not here for information. Like I said, I just want to talk.” Water dripped off Isaac’s face onto his bare chest and onto the floor. “So. Do you know why I knew to do this?”

A whimper made its way out of Isaac’s throat. “Sam told you.”

“Bingo!” Gavin laughed.

Isaac shook his head. “I don’t blame them for that.” His knees were beginning to ache.

Gavin grinned wickedly. “Oh? Would you blame them if I told you they volunteered that information?”

Isaac swallowed hard. “There’s…no way.”

He laughed again. “Think again! I told you they broke, and they broke fast. This was, like, day one.” He gestured to the bucket. “All I told them was to tell me something interesting about you. They volunteered your greatest fear all on their own.”

Isaac clenched his jaw. “They’re young. And inexperienced. It’s not their fault.”

“Oh, please. How old are they? I know every single thing they’re afraid or ashamed of and yet…how old they are just never made it into the conversation.”

Isaac hesitated before speaking. “They’re 19.”

Gavin snorted. “Ok, yeah, that is pretty young. But still, aren’t you even…the slightest bit mad at them?”

Isaac shook his head. “You tortured them. It’s not their fault.”

Gavin’s eyes narrowed. “What are they to you? You’re so god damned protective of them, to the point of idiocy. There was absolutely no need for you to take their place. If anything, you’ve left your team vulnerable without you. So why?”

“They…” He swallowed. “They’re Sam. They’re just…good. They didn’t deserve this.”

“People don’t go to their deaths for people who are just good.”

Isaac’s voice shook. “I didn’t know you were going to kill me.”

“Would that have changed anything?”

“…no.”

“You know what I think?” Gavin scooted himself closer until his shins were pressed against the bucket. “I think you would have done this for Ellis, or Gray, or anyone else on your team. Yes, of course I know all their names. And do you know why?” Isaac glared at him. “This team is all you have. And I don’t mean just, ‘they’re family’ or anything like that. No. You came because…what else do you have to offer them? Besides your life?”

Isaac swallowed.

“Really, I mean it. You’re not the smartest on the team, that’s obviously Finn. You’re not the best at taking care of people. That’s Gray. You’re not the most skilled, that’s Vera. And Ellis obviously has a sense of humor, so they’ve got you beat there.” Isaac’s eyes widened. “Oh come on. I had almost three days with Sam. You think I didn’t get to know your team intimately well? But what do you bring to the table?”

“I…”

His head plunged into the bucket again. He did his best not to breathe the water in but his body betrayed him. He yanked hard against the hand in his hair, but it was unrelenting. When the hand let him up again his lungs were burning for air. He choked on the water in his throat.

“What do you bring to the table, Isaac?”

He couldn’t answer. His throat was too constricted with coughing.

Gavin sighed. “I’ll wait.”

When Isaac could finally catch his breath he said, “I’m their leader.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Obviously. But what do you actually do for the team that no one else does? More importantly…” He adjusted his seat. “What it is about your life that makes you so keen to give it for another?”

Tears burned in Isaac’s eyes. “I…don’t…”

“Let me tell you what I think.” Gavin’s voice was intense. “I think you know you’re not the hero Sam thinks you are. You aren’t even a particularly good leader. After all…” Gavin clicked his tongue. “I took Sam because of a mistake you made. I think you came to me because you know that’s all you’re good for: dying so someone else doesn’t have to.”

The tears spilled over.

“Aw, someone’s sensitive. I’m right, though, aren’t I?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Oh, yes I do.” Gavin got up on his knees so he was at Isaac’s eye level. “I think you know, deep down, that you’re not the person Sam thinks you are. You came here because you wanted to earn that place in their eyes. With Sam, with everyone. Deep down, you know you’re as weak as they are.”

“Sam’s not weak!”

“You keep saying that with all evidence to the contrary. But I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about you.” He tapped Isaac on the nose. “See, by coming here you guarantee the last thing they remember about you is this incredibly brave and selfless thing you did for your sweet and innocent Sam. Everyone will love you for it. Sam will hold you in their mind as their hero forever. And the team doesn’t ever have to see you when you’re at your weakest.” He grinned. “They don’t have to see how you begged before the whip even touched you. Or how you begged just because you saw a bucket of water. They don’t have to see how terrified you are…” He made a beckoning motion to Leo. Leo slowly forced his head down to the water.

“NO! No no no, please, PLEASE, don’t…” Leo stopped with Isaac’s face an inch from the water. He sobbed and writhed against his grasp. “Please…”

Gavin chuckled. “See? My point is made.” He placed his hand on the back of Isaac’s head and dunked his face into the bucket. He allowed him right back out of the water and let Leo draw him back upright. Isaac coughed and spluttered. “And I think you refuse to believe that Sam is weak because you want to believe you sacrificed yourself for someone good. Because if your sacrifice means nothing, and you are nothing without your sacrifice -”

“You’re wrong. Sam is good. And brave. And kind.”

“…that’s all you’re gonna correct me on? Does that mean everything else is true?”

“You’re a coward,” Isaac spat through his teeth.

Gavin’s face slid slowly into a smile. “Wow. You’re really taking this personally. Methinks I hit a nerve.” Isaac clenched his jaw shut. “You didn’t correct me, though. Which means you know. Deep down, maybe, but you know that you’re weak, you’re nothing, and this was the only thing you could think to do to convince your team that you’re worthy of the trust and love they give you. Or maybe you needed to convince yourself.”

Isaac held his gaze with a glare.

Gavin smiled. “Tell me who you really are, Isaac.”

Tears dripped off his face onto the floor.

“Isaac, you have a choice here. You can either…” He put his hand on his head and forced his face down toward the water. He cried out in protest. “…drown again, or tell me the truth about who you are.” They stood still for a moment, Isaac whimpering as he stared down into the water. “Wow. You would rather face your worst fear than tell me the truth about yourself?”

It’s not the truth. He tried to steel himself for the water, tried to push down his panic. But he broke. “Ok,” he gasped. “Ok.” Gavin released his head.

“Yes?”

Isaac swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Dunk him,” came the order. Leo shoved him forward and forced his head into the water. He tried to hold his breath. A hand pressed against the welts on his back to keep him there. For one beat, two, three…

He was pulled up again. He gasped and coughed. When he opened his eyes, Gavin was leaning towards him.

“This isn’t complicated. I want you to tell me why you��re really here.”

“Is this what you did to Sam?” Isaac panted. “Tried to get inside their head?”

Gavin smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, I didn’t just try. I convinced them you were there to torture and kill them, remember?”

Isaac pulled against the thug restraining him. “What did you do to them?”

Gavin laughed. “It didn’t take much. I just helped them realize they were weak and a liability to their team.”

“Screw you,” Isaac said bitterly.

“Should you be so lucky,” Gavin murmured, leaning closer. After a moment, he sat back. “But I digress.”

Isaac struggled against Leo’s hands. “What’s the point of this? You want me to say I believe my life is worthless? That I came here to try to make it up to Sam for failing them? Fine. If you want to put words in my mouth on pain of torture, fine. There you go. I said the words.”

That terrifying smile again. “I never actually said those things. You came up with them on your own.” He signaled to Leo again.

“No!” Isaac screamed. Before Leo could get his head under the water, he threw himself to the side and slammed his leg against the bucket. It tipped over, splashing everyone with water. Gavin shouted and fell backwards away from the spray. As Isaac fell to the floor, Leo’s weight crashed on top of him, pinning him to the ground. He cried out as the thug moved his knee onto Isaac’s lower back, his hands pinning Isaac’s head to the floor and his hands against his back.

Gavin laughed, surveying his wet clothing. “Fair enough.”

Isaac’s face was pressed against the wet concrete floor as the water rushed to the drain. He groaned at the weight on his back. Gavin got on his knees beside him and smiled, bringing his face so close to Isaac that he could feel his breath. “Alright. No more drowning for now. I’ll have to move on to something else.” He got to his feet. “I’m going to go change. Leo, tie him up. I don’t want metal on him for the next part.”

Next chapter

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#honor bound #whump #torture #self-sacrifice #mindfuck kinda???#emotional whump #forced confession #take me instead #my oc: Isaac #my oc: Gavin #my oc: Sam #cw: drowning

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