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saturnsstufff · 4 years ago

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Awsamdude/Technoblade- Rumor Has It

For my beloved @sugarandspicebutnonice

Warnings: sexual innuendo

Techno was a great Prince. He worked hard to keep his family's name in good graces. All of Phil's boys worked hard to keep their names held high with respect. Tommy was known around for keeping sprits high, any ball or formality with Tommy was always known as the best to attend.

His older brother Wilbur was a skilled artisan with music. Always teaching and making new sounds like it wasn't any struggle. Anyone could find him out in the court yard with a guitar in hand. Humming and singing a casual song.

The eldest, Technoblade was a skilled swordsman and statists. Anytime he was called into a meeting, the others shuddered knowing he would trump them all. He made swinging a sword look like art. Trust me, you would know.

You had a wonderful relationship with techno for a long time. But sadly, you both had parted away from each other. Of course, it was on all good terms, He was more concerned with the kingdom rather than establishing a strong and sturdy relationship.

You, being a knight- fully understood. But you also choose to be a bit selfish about it. You truly wished for him to give you a bit of attention at least when together. He could be such a ladies man when he choose to in public, yet when it came to the two of you he just became closed off and anything but warm. Even behind closed doors it was lacking some spark of passion.

So you both agreed it was best to let things lie.

But what left you with a sour taste was how quickly he moved on.

You would give him the benefit of the doubt of course, he was a well known man. She could have been someone he had met previously, and during your break off she was there to talk it out with him.

She, she ain't real

But something about her screamed fake, her smile and movements seemed too thought through. Her words all laced with a sickening sweet hum, it also didn't help she giggled at basically anything techno said.

Plenty of times you sat with the general and talked about how dense she came off. Respectfully, you had assumed Tech would have went for a well educated woman such as yourself. But after seeing her- you wondered if that type was in short supply.

Anything she did, she would just bat her eyes and he was wrapped around his finger.

It honestly made Sam and you laugh.

She ain't gonna be able to love you like I will

As much as you started to loathe the woman, techno wasn't yours anymore. Thus you started getting closer to Sam. Both of you connecting on how your past relationships had been. Well you were casted aside, Sam was flatly cheated on.

Of course knowing that, your heart ached for him. Sam was a well educated and handsome man with a heart of gold. Respectfully his whole job was centered on protecting and serving the people.

Jumping into a relationship was Sam was like practically nothing. You promised him all the love in the world, and just like you, he promised to give you the same.

And love each other you did.

She is a stranger

Techno did see you grow close to his general, and honestly it didn't set well with him.

He liked the woman he was with, but he also had known you since childhood. You both had played within the court yard plenty of times to claim it as your own.

Sam didn't do that with you. Sam had only started to know you when you joined the ranks.

Techno would often catch himself watching you and Sam spar. His eyes would watch as Sam's hand grabbed at your waist, gripping your hips and using his own to throw you off balance. He hated how close your bodies were.

At one point he couldn't help but pull you aside and ask why you let him touch you. But that conversation drove spikes through his heart. "How can you just let him touch you like that?! He’s practically all over your body! You wouldn't let me touch you like that- and You and I have history" he yelled not believing what he saw.

When your face twisted in front of him into disgust, he thought you were almost joking. "The hell is with you?! I'm not your girlfriend! Or don't you remember!?" You yelled at him. Lightly shoving him back from you. "Don't tell me where he can, and cannot touch me" You sneered. In all his years he never saw you so heated.

Sure, she's got it all

Truthfully you saw techno leave you as a drop to his pride. He dropped a knight for a soft noble girl. A girl babied all her life. You knew as soon as she was exposed to blood she would have fainted like a goat in pasture. But in the end of the day, you weren't sleeping with her so what did it matter?

But, baby, is that really what you want

Arguments between Technoblade and you had become more frequent. Sam let you duke it out, he knew he had no place to tell you to leave it be. Sam also didn't appreciate how fast Techno jumped onto your case about finding someone else.

Although he knew it irked you about Techno moving on, you never got in his face about it like he would. Sam viewed this as your way of showing you were the bigger person.

On one particular day he found the arguments amusing. Techno had started up again when Sam was publicly teasing you. Well techno found your back talking distasteful, Sam relished with how powerful you were.

Listening to techno ramble off on his pathetic reasonings left you a laughing mess, even to the point you cut his argument off. "Bless your soul, you've got you're head in the clouds, she's going to use you like a fool!" You laughed in his face.

His jaw tightened as he spat at your words, pointing at Sam. "You made a fool out of you General. She doesn't even love you- Your wasting your time on a-" at Tech's words you couldn't help but push back even harder for him targeting Sam.

"How dare you say that. Your common penny is getting around more than I- And, boy, she's bringing you down!" You called out. Putting a finger to his chest. "She made your heart melt- But its all a lie!" You didn't stop their, you had more to say to him. "She thinks your all that- a fairy tale prince to save her dreams! But you're cold to the core" you said to him. Causing him to back off.

"Besides. Now rumor has it she ain't got your love anymore"

Rumor has it, ooh, Rumor has it, ooh, Rumor has it, ooh

You weren't lying. Their were plenty of rumors going around saying she was sleeping with others besides Techno. Although Sam and you had no proof to this. Your hunches seemed right.

On one day, Sam had left for a out of village meeting. You really didn't mind, you trusted him enough and knew he wouldn't do anything behind your back.

But sadly you wished to go with him. Techno had asked for you to join him for a round of chess. Something you both greatly enjoyed when together. But now you knew there was meaning to the game.

Sure enough when you sat with in in the court yard, he brought up Sam.

"You know he is much older than you..." he said as he moved his knight across the board.

"And She is half your age" you said flatly. Picking your pawn up. "But I'm guessing that's the reason that you stayed" you said moving it to where you pleased. His brows drew together in slight anger. But he did try and keep his calm.

"I heard you've been missing me" he said, a small smirk growing on his lips. He found pride within those rumors. Knowing that you still supposedly whined and withered about for him.

Of course, you knew he was gravely mistaken.

"You've been telling people things that you shouldn't be" you said carefully. Knowing he was probably behind the rumors somehow.

Techno took this moment to see if he still had a effect on you. Usually during chess you both would flirt a bit. So naturally, he took the chance. "Like when we creep out and she ain't around" he said bemused, your face twisting into disgust again.

"I sneak out to see Sam... besides Haven't you heard the rumors" you said moving your queen. When he didn't respond you laughed. He didn't even under stand. "Bless your soul, you've got your head in the clouds" you said, fully amused within the moment.

"C'mon darlin... I know you fell hard for me when we started dating..." he cooed to you. Your eyes darting up like daggers.

"You made a fool out of me" you said to him. Wanting to get your point across. Well he moved his pawns about you took your moment to explain how you felt. "You make me sick to my stomach.. And, boy, you're bringing me down" you said softly. Smiling to yourself slowly. "You made my heart melt, yet I'm cold to the core" You said, moving your queen to take his knight. Your eyes slyly skimmed over his. His lost knight now within your fingers.

"But rumor has it I'm the one you're leaving her for"

After that game, rumors and tensions soared wildly. Sam at one point thought you were back and evolved with Techno again. Of course you explained to him the situation, which thankfully he understood and apologized for trusting second hand mouths.

Rumor has it, ooh, Rumor has it, ooh, Rumor has it, ooh

All of these words whispered in my ear

But Techno's mood plummeted fast...

Tell a story that I cannot bear to hear

A engagement, specifically Sam and yours. Oh how his blood boiled at the news. He thought his hands all over you was bad, but now... now you would take Sam's name in law. You would he his wife. Not Techno's.

Just 'cause I said it, it don't mean that I meant it

Because of this news he didn't hesitate to run and find you. More than hell-bent on giving you a piece of his mind. He wanted to make it clear you couldn't marry him.

People say crazy things

He didn't care what people would say, he wanted to claim you again. Techno didn't want anyone else touching you. He especially didn't want Him touching you.

Just 'cause I said it, don't mean that I meant it

Even if within the past week he yelled hurtful things to you, he hoped you would understand he just wanted to protect you from unworthy suitors. Sam couldn't provide for you like Techno could. Sam was a general born from a farmer. Technoblade was to be crowned king.

Just 'cause you heard it

So their he stormed. Heading to the stables, knowing full well that's where you were. His anger was fuming. He couldn't wait to shove it in Sam's face that Techno wouldn't let you marry him.

But lets just say Technoblade was the one left speechless in the end.

Rumor has it, ooh, Rumor has it, ooh Rumor has it, ooh,

Especially when he slammed the door open to the stables and saw Sam's body covering yours, your legs around his waist in a tight hold well he was buried deep inside you.

But rumor has it he's the one I'm leaving you for

#technoblade x reader #awsamdude x reader #techno x reader

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boldlyvoid · 4 years ago

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Amoreena | Chapter Nine

chapter nine

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: date night!! this is very fluffy, very emotional and extremely horny. edgar allan poe is rolling in his grave at what they did in his enchanted garden

exhibitionism, public sex (no ones there tho), drug mentions at the end (let me know if I should tag anything else!!!!)

word count: 5.4k

from the beginning <3

He spent all of Thursday afternoon with Penelope in Richmond, setting up for his date that night.

Stringing lights on the trees, mowing the grass and trimming the flowers back, the staff ensuring that the museum was in pristine condition for them tonight, it was perfect. The cats were brushed, there were rose petals the fountain and the most beautiful picnic set up in the garden.

Penelope packed their dinner for them, keeping it in the museum fridge for when they finally arrived, it was the only thing Spencer needed to remember.

Y/N: just got home, about to get ready! Can’t wait to see you at 6 ♥︎

Spencer smiled at his phone, about to text her back when Penelope laid a hand on his back, “change into your suit and head back to her, traffic might be bad?”

“Thank you, for everything. You’ve always been my best friend, more of big sister actually,” Spencer pressed his lips together tightly as to not get emotional. “You’re wonderful Penelope, thank you.”

“Awe!” She swooned, wrapping him up in a big hug. “I will always love you, Spencer, you deserve all of this and so, so much more, now go before I cry.”

He laughed, pulling back, hand lingering on her shoulder as he walked into the museum. They let him change in the backroom, it felt incredibly strange to be putting on a suit inside Edgar Allan Poe's house to go pick up his wife. Not too long ago he dreamed about bringing a girlfriend here someday, life was moving too quickly, he needed a breather.

He kept his suit jacket folded and on the passenger seat as he drove home, where he lived with his family. Even just thinking that as he paid attention to the road made him smile. The wind hitting his face, his hair blowing in the breeze, he felt free at last.

He was where he was supposed to be, all roads lead to here.

Travelling up her driveway with a smile on his face as the dust followed him to her doorstep. She was waiting in a red dress on the porch, Amoreena and her nanny eating pizza on the steps as they waited for him.

Stepping out of his car, he straightened his tie and pulled his pants up more, looking at his wife like she was a star plucked from the sky, landing in this Virginia field for him.

She stood then, her satin dress flowing and exposing a leg as she walked down the steps to him, “Is this what you wanted?” She twirled in front of him to show it all off, her hair getting stuck in her lipstick and making her laugh.

“I love you,” is all he can say as she leaning in with a wide grin, surpassing the smile to kiss him gently, using her thumb to get all the lipstick off his bottom lip and chin.

“Love you too, cutie,” she winked, taking his hand and turning back towards Amoreena, “listen to Nanny, remember we love you and we will see you no earlier than 7:30 tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes ma’am!” She saluted, mouth full of pizza.

“And what are the new rules about coming into our bed in the morning?”

“Knock first, wait till you respond, don’t come in unless you say it’s okay,” Amoreena replied, sticking her tongue out at her as she remembered it all.

“Smartie pants,” Y/N smiled at her, “come give us a hug, don’t get pizza on my dress, please.”

Amoreena wiped her sleeve over her mouth before running into her mother's open arms, they shared goodbye kisses before it was Spencer’s turn. She held him so tight it felt wonderful, “goodnight Lovey, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, have the best sleep ever for me?”

“I’ll see you in dreamland,” she replied, kissing his cheek gently before she pulled back.

“Have fun!” Nanny called from the porch as Amoreena skipped back to her.

“We will,” Spencer replied, taking Y/N’s hand and leading her to the passenger side, he opened her door and helped her inside, insuring her dress was inside before closing the door.

Jogging back to his door, he got in and put on his seatbelt. He threw the car in reverse and turned around by the barn, heading down the driveway, not saying a single thing as Y/N stared at him.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?” She shook her head, licking her lip before biting it as she huffed.

“We’re going to Richmond, Virginia, to read,” he gave her one hint.

“Hmm,” she smiled, “I’m sure you won't tell me the title, so Mr. I can remember every book ever, what’s a random line in it?”

“You’re smart,” he teased her, “but for the brilliant green of the huge leaves that spread from their summits in long, tremulous lines, dallying with the Zephyrs—”

“We’re going to the Edgar Allan Poe Museum!” She cut him off with a cheer.

He slows down on the barren dirt road, mouth wide open as she got it right, he turns to her as they come to a complete stop, “how the heck did you get that?”

“Yes!” she laughed, tossing her head back as she clapped and kicked her feet a little, so proud of herself, “I’m a librarian, Spencer! Did you think I wouldn’t know Eleonora?”

“That’s the most random sentence in the whole poem?” Spencer was shocked, she recalled it faster than he thought he would be able to if she read a line to him.

“My brother’s first motorcycle was a Zephyr,” she smiled at him, raising her eyebrows. “My brain is kinda like a filing cabinet, if you give me a word I can remember everything I’ve ever heard with that word included.”

He started to drive again, shaking his head as he paid attention to the road but still astounded by how amazing she is. “Amoreena gets that from you then, she could have both our eidetic memories together, that would be very interesting to see.”

“Eidetic memory?” She questioned.

“It’s what most people call photographic memory,” Spencer explained. “You can remember everything you hear which is why you and Amoreena are able to recall songs, books and movie facts so fast, while I can read back to you anything I’ve read without having to see it again, it’s forever in my mind.”

“So we’re both geniuses, cool,” Y/N smiled at him again, “sorry I ruined your surprise.”

“You just know where we’re going,” he reminded her, laying his hand on hers, interlocking their fingers as he drove.

They had an hour alone before the real date started.

So she showed him all of her favourite songs, including some of Amoreena’s playlists so he could get familiar with them before their trip to Rhode Island. Her voice was impeccable, she knew all the words and harmonies, often opting to cove background voices he wouldn’t have even known were there if it wasn’t for her.

She loved music in a way that intrigued him, she enjoyed music with a story. Much like the reason she loved books so much, she enjoyed picturing the happy places in her mind that the songs were able to take her to, they filled her with glee and hope as she sang to her heart's content. Taking short breaks to explain the meanings of songs, to recite the best lyrics and why the songs are close to her heart.

“Do you want to hear the song that reminds me the most of you?” She asked between songs, pausing so that nothing else would start.

“Sure,” he blushed, nervous for what it could be and how she imagined him in her mind, hoping he could live up to it.

“I'm perfectly fine I live on my own, I made up on my mind, I'm better off bein' alone. We met a few weeks ago, now you try on callin' me, baby, like tryin' on clothes,”

She stares at him with a beautiful smile as she waits to see his reaction to the opening, finally singing when the beat drops, dancing softly in her seat as she belted the words out to him.

“So prove to me I'm your American Queen, and you move to me like I'm a Motown beat, and we rule the kingdom inside my room,” She brushed her hand across his jaw, teasing him as the words flow from her lips to his ears, she loves him and he can feel it with every syllable.

“And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for, King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa! And all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa,” she sings so softly, with a purpose, turning it down a little so that he can talk to her.

“I love you,” he reminded her, “so much it hurts sometimes.”

“It’s like your heartstrings are tugging on each other, right?” She agreed, “like they want to jump out of our chests and run to each other.”

He nodded with a soft smile, reaching for her hand again holding it as he brought it to his mouth for a kiss, “queen of my heart.”

“Hmmm,” she thought over his words, “I’m pretty content with being princess still, Lady Amoreena is in line for the thrown, it’s part of her namesake after all.”

“Does the kingdom have a name?”

“You know the Elton John song Goodbye Yellow Brick Road?” She waited for his nod, “my grandma called it Ozellous so it’s like wizard of Oz but I added the 'ellous' because people always said they were jealous of our farm.”

He’s trying his best to keep his eyes on the road when all he want’s to do is look at her smile, to see her pupil change as she recalls the loving memory, it’s his favourite thing to do. Better than any movie or play, seeing her face was better than looking at the most expensive art piece. He was so in love with all of her.

“Were you like Amoreena as a kid?”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, “bullied hardcore for it too, kids always told me to shut up cause I’d add facts to conversations I wasn’t a part of.”

“I would have loved to listen,” Spencer replied softly, knowing the feeling all too well.

They were only a few minutes away now, turning into the small town and passing quaint little homes and cottages. “Amoreena would love this drive, these are some interesting townspeople homes for her imagination, we should come back sometime this summer.”

His heart was going to actually explode, she was everything he never knew he needed.

“I’d love that,” he added as they pulled into the museum. “I’m a museum member and I’m a patron, so sometimes I donate rare pieces I find, they love me here.”

Her mouth opened to speak, but her eyes got caught on the twinkling lights in the distance, mesmerized by everything. Old cobblestone streets, brick buildings and wooden gates, it was straight out of the 1800s and absolutely fantastical.

“And it’s all ours for the night,” he put the car in park and turned to her, “wait here?”

She nodded, speechless as she continued to look out the window at everything. Spencer got out of the car, opening the back seat to grab and put on his jacket, straighten out his suit before opening her door and extending a hand to help her out.

“Princess,” he extended his arm for her to tuck her own under, he closed her door and escorted her through the gate and towards the garden.

The sun was just starting to set, 7 pm in early June being the most beautiful time of year in rural Virginia, the sky was a perfect purple as he leads her through the stone arches towards the picnic.

Her eyes sparkled with all the lights, wide and pupils blown as she took it all in. It was a fairytale, she was in a princess dress, he was the king of her heart and this was just the beginning of happily ever after.

“Spencer, whatever your middle name is, Reid,” she gasped, swatting his arm lightly with a smile growing on her face.

“It’s Walter,” he smiled right back.

He let go of her hand then and walked over to a table, turning on the record player and dropping the needle in the right spot. He did his research into some Taylor Swift songs, finding one that reminded him the most of Y/N and how much he loved her.

“May I have this dance?” He asks as she notices the all too familiar guitar strumming.

He reaches a hand out for her, pulling her in as she takes it, “I was so so lost before I found you in the park,” he explains the first verse, barely a whisper beside her ear as they start to sway.

There I was again tonight forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity Shifting eyes and vacancy, vanished when I saw your face

“All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you,” he whispers once more, feeling the goosebumps bursting on her bare arms.

He spun her around, extending both their arms as she twirled out and then back into his embrace again with a giggle. She swayed back and forth, dancing with him like the night they got married in her field.

Your eyes whispered "have we met?" Across the room your silhouette starts to make it's way to me The playful conversation starts Counter all your quick remarks, like passing notes in secrecy

“And it was enchanting to meet you, All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you,” he sings them this time, spinning her out again as the chorus hits, her eyes widening as she began to smile wider than he’s ever seen before.

They sang the words together as they danced, smiling and laughing as they moved around the cobblestone. Finding a rhythm so perfect, so them, it was silly and not on beat in the slightest, mostly spinning, it was a spinning song if the album cover was any indication.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you!

“The lingering question kept me up, Two a.m., who do you love? I wonder till I'm wide awake! Now I'm pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door, I'd open up and you would say, hey! It was enchanting to meet you, all I know is I was enchanted to meet you,” Y/N’s voice softer than ever as she sang her anxieties into his ear, remembering the day at the museum where she wondered if she could have him all to herself.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you

Spinning around in circles she leaves his grasp, dress circling in the wind and he watches her. She takes both his hands and spins around with him in a tight circle before pulling back in, their chests bumping as they laughed, happier than he’s ever been in his entire life, and she’s made him pretty happy in the last few weeks.

The girl of his dreams, dancing around him with a smile like she was making her own music video. This was a dream of hers he didn’t know, making it come true as it became a dream of his own.

He places his hands on her cheeks as he stares into her eyes, “this is me praying that this was the very first page, not where the storyline ends. My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again. These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon, I was enchanted to meet you,” he whisper’s the words, barely singing, more talking.

“Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you,” she sings right back to him, staring into his eyes as they stand still in the garden.

She pulls him into a kiss, breathing in deeply through her nose as they hold each other’s cheeks, unable to get closer as they kissed. Pulling away with a loud smooch sound, smiling before taking her hands in his, once more.

Spinning her around again as the beat drops once more, her smile more beautiful than the first time he saw it. He was so madly in love, he firmly believed he was in heaven.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew!!

This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you!

Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

“Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did,” Taylor Swift's voice cuts into the beautiful moment as her songs change and the mood drastically changes.

Y/N bursts out in laughter, jumping lightly as she enjoyed the song, head-banging along as she danced by herself until Spencer turned the music off once again, “you’re so cute.”

“Thank you,” she bowed, “this is cute!”

“There’s a picnic basket in the fridge inside, and some wine if you think that’s a good idea?” Pointing towards the main house, she followed him towards the door.

“Oh, hello?” Her voice changed as she noticed the two black cats on the window, letting Spencer head inside for the basket as she talked to them.

“That’s Edgar and Pluto, the groundskeeper found them in the shed in 2012,” Spencer explains as he comes back out, basket in hand but she’s too busy with the cats to notice.

Petting both their faces, they stretch into her reach and bask in the feeling of her nails on their skin, Spencer would agree it felt nice. He loved the feeling of her hands in his hair, he must have been a cat in his last life.

“Amoreena wants her own indoor cat,” Y/N smiled wide at him, “she always wanted to call him Hercules like the Elton John song, almost like she knew you were her dad all along.”

She took his free hand then, following him towards the blanket in the grass, “how?”

“There’s a line in the song about Greek gods, but it says Hercules on her side and Diana in her eyes, and she does have your mom's eyes, right down to the colour of her iris,” Y/N looked at him like he was everything to her.

Spencer couldn’t speak, he just set the basket on the ground and ushered her to sit down beside him. She held the skirt of her dress up so she could sit crisscross applesauce on the blanket, draping her dress over her legs so she didn’t show anything off just yet.

“Every time I look at you I understand all her quirks and her facial expressions,” she added like she was trying to make him cry, “I’ve been looking at her for almost 8 years now, wondering who you were and now I know, and you’re so much better than I ever imagined.”

“Would you have looked for me when she turned 18?” Is all he can ask through his sniffles, trying to hold it together for her.

She nodded, “I was going to tell her soon anyway, she asks a lot of questions I’m not sure if you noticed.” Her giggle was priceless, “she had lots of questions when the goats were born this year and that meant her asking more about making human babies and I just said a special man helped me make my dreams come true, and she thought it was Rumpelstiltskin.”

Spencer couldn’t fight the laugh that erupted from him, leaning forward as he chuckled, making her laugh too. “Does she even know the whole story?”

“She’s only seen the 4th Shrek movie with him, she has no idea that he also takes the babies,” Y/N placed her hand on his knee gently, “If I get pregnant again, I’m going to tell her about how it all works as simply as possible, I want her to feel included in this and she’ll be less jealous if she sees this as a learning opportunity.”

“That’s a good idea,” he agreed, “I still can't believe she almost punched Michael for hugging me.”

“Oh, I can,” Y/N laughed again, “she was being bullied last year by an older kid and I said if someone upsets you or hurts you, sometimes it’s not that bad to hurt them back. Make them know you’re not weak and you care about yourself, and she gave a kid a black eye for tugging on her braid.”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling, “that’s my girl.”

Y/N opened the picnic basket then, taking everything out with a smile as Spencer stared at her, thinking a million different thoughts about future kids, how Amoreena would grow up, seeing her as a big sister to hopefully many.

They both leaned forward and kissed softly, smiling as they pulled back, “so you like charcuterie?”

She laughed, “Amoreena called it shark coochie once, I can’t not think of that now.”

“How many kids do you want?”

“Have you ever read cheaper by the dozen?” She teased him. “As many as I can have, I have the funds thanks to my job and the farm and not having to pay a mortgage, I was going to have another baby next year anyway, I had an appointment and everything scheduled, I even tried to get them to contact Amoreena’s father for another sample but they said they couldn’t ask you outright for me.”

“They asked me if I wanted to give another sample when I asked if I could know my kids,” Spencer remembered the words exactly, “she said ‘You have four offspring so far, none of the other samples used have produced a child, the women were all IVF as well so it wasn’t your swimmer's fault if you wanted to donate again.’”

“I don’t want to know the truth, are you okay if we let her decide if she wants to find out at 18?” Y/N asked softly, “I’m content thinking you’re her father, I don’t want to know if it’s some other tall who-lookin’ genius, okay?”

“That’s perfect actually,” Spencer agreed, “and on the kids front, you don’t mind me being in my 70s when they all start going to University?”

“My dad is 68 with no signs of stopping, and he’s still fantastic with his grandkids,” Y/N always had a fact to combat his anxiety. “You have a lot of life left in you, I’ll take good care of you so that they have the best dad ever for as long as possible.”

Spencer was so in love with his family he felt like he was floating, laughing and smiling all meal long as they shared facts back and forth about their lives. Getting to know each other more and more as the seconds passed, he imagined it would be like this forever. She was like a bottomless pit of information, facts, stories and secrets. He loved every single one she shared with him.

She poured herself a second small glass of wine, “you know they say that one glass of wine every once in a while is actually good for the baby?”

“It doesn’t work that fast,” he reminded her, more like he reminded himself. He didn’t want to hope in the chance it didn’t happen right away.

“I had a nightmare last night for the first time in a long time, so I think it worked,” she teased him. “I won't know till June 10th, that's when my next period would be.”

“Nightmare?” It was the only part he picked up on, worried for her and wondering why she didn’t wake him up.

She nodded softly, “I found out I was pregnant and you never came home, and I got lost in the forest looking for you and then I remembered I could wake up.”

He rests his hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb against her bare skin softly, “I’m always coming home to you.”

“I know, when I got pregnant with Amoreena I had bad dreams in the first few weeks too, mostly about giving birth to nothing and being alone all over again, the subconscious and pregnancy hormones are mean as fuck when they hang out,” she laughed away the pain, “I know none of it is real.”

“Good,” he whispered, not knowing what really to say, he wasn’t used to soothing other people yet. Most people didn’t want his facts or concernment when something happened, just a hug normally.

She took a deep breath, pushing everything away, “good news, either my anxiety disorder is back in full swing or something’s working in here,” she laid her hand over her stomach, “either way, I’d like to try again tonight?”

He laughed, “we don’t need to make a baby every time you want to have sex?”

She got onto her knees then, crawling over the blanket and sitting right in Spencer's lap with her hands on both of his cheeks, “I want all your babies.”

He held her waist, pulling her in closer to his chest, “right now?”

She nodded, moving her dress out of the way to undo his belt, “no one is here right? It’s not like anyone would know?”

“Mhmm,” he agreed, kissing her neck as she unzipped his pants, moving his underwear out of the way just enough to free his hardening cock, she stroked it right there in the middle of the garden, staring down between their bodies in awe as he came to life.

Sitting up on her knees more, the slit of her dress made it a lot easier for her to show him her underwear. She was wearing just a thong, perfect for pulling to the side as she lowered herself onto him, ever so slowly.

She fixed her dress around them, completely calm and composed as he was fully inside of her, “you’re okay with this?”

He huffed a laugh out of his nose, dropping his forehead to her shoulder so he couldn’t buck into her and ruin the moment she was making, his hands moving to her hips, guiding her back and off him slightly before back down again, making her gasp.

“I thought you wanted to read?” She teased him as she started to ride him more, moving her hips in a way that took him in and out of her at just the right angle, her hands on his shoulders as she bounced on him lightly, he couldn’t even think straight. “Go on, read to me.”

He took a second to remember the words, mind totally somewhere else and not interested in a book at all when her boobs were right in his face.

“I am come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion,” the first sentence slipped past his lips as she kept going, he took a moment to kiss right under her ear before continuing.

“Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence—whether much that is glorious—whether all that is profound—does not spring from disease of thought—from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.”

“Shit,” she moaned, pushing his hand down towards her clit, “you can multitask, smartie pants.”

His thumb was on a mission then, rubbing small circles against her pleasure point, she tossed her head back with her eyes closed as she continued to ride him, “I don’t hear you reading?”

He moaned softly in her ear at the feeling, and the fact she wanted to get off to hearing him recite something from memory, it was more euphoric than he could have ever imagined.

“They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. In their gray visions they obtain glimpses of eternity, and thrill, in ah- awakening, fuck,” he was trying his best to stay as composed as she was when he really just wanted to lay her against the blanket and fuck her into next week.

“to find that they have been upon the verge of the great secret,” Y/N whispered the end of the sentence, grinding down on him harder than before.

“In snatches, they learn something of the wisdom which is of good,” she whispered into his ear, biting his earlobe softly with a moan and he kept rubbing her clit, “you’re so good, Spencer, so so good," she paused to enjoy the moment before whispering in his ear once more, "And more of the mere knowledge which is of evil. They penetrate, however, rudderless or compass-less into the vast ocean of the "light ineffable," and again, like the adventures of the Nubian geographer, "agressi sunt mare tenebrarum, quid in eo esset exploraturi.”

Her words softer than ever and they were never going to get to the end of this poem, he'd never know how the rest of the words sound on her tongue, she pulled him into a kiss then, moaning into his mouth as they ground against each other, finding a perfect rhythm to bring them to the end.

“There, yes, fuck,” she whispered against his lips, pushing against him as she arched her back slightly, slipping away from his mouth as she did so.

He slammed into her then as he chased her lips, making her whimper one last time before she was shaking in his lap, her legs quivering as she finished on him, sending him over the edge and stilling as he came with a shudder. He held her so close, both of them breathing into each other's mouths as they came down, kissing and smiling as they stayed connected.

“We’ll name her Eleonora,” Y/N teased, pulling off him and laying back against the blanket.

He made sure her underwear was back in the right spot before covering her with her dress again and sliding himself back into his underwear.

“Amoreena and Eleonora have a good ring to it, we just need 10 more names,” he teased right back.

“Hopefully we have a little boy one day too,” she smiled as she tugged him down beside her, cuddling into her side as they stared up at the newly dark blue sky and the array of stars that decided to join them this evening.

“Even if it’s just Amoreena, I’ve never been happier in my whole life than when I’m with you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“For what?” She asked, purely to keep hearing his voice.

“Making me want to get up in the morning again, giving me a reason not to buy drugs for something euphoric to happen to me, showing me real love and proof that happiness is possible if you just chose to be happy,” he gave example after example.

“I thought I learned everything the world had to offer, but you’ve been showing me new little life hacks that make the world so much better, I see a future of bright colours and happiness and laughter for the first time ever, so thank you.”

She held him closer, “it’s been a pleasure falling in love with you, together, you deserve to love yourself. You’re so wonderful Spencer, it breaks my heart to know that anyone has ever made you feel the opposite.”

He couldn’t speak anymore, turning to kiss her neck and cheek so he had something to do that wasn’t crying. He loved her so incredibly deeply that he felt like he was an anchor, dropping to the bottom of her deepest ocean, without a single plan to leave.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

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jostepherjoestar · 4 years ago

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👑Hewwu Queen 👑 is it alright if I request DIO in part 3 meeting his descendant?. Like he basically had a kid accidentally in part 1 and now he’s meeting their great grandkid who looks allot like him and seems to not be fully human. Maybe he meets them at night since their family was traveling around the world and stopped off in Egypt where he found them maybe listening to music?

Since you write for DIO, is it alright if I request that he somehow meets one of his kid after they get into some time travel shenanigans. Maybe his kid has a stand that is kinda similar to his but they aren’t confident in using it

DIO aiding his helpless descendant

sfw / gn reader

notes/warnings: implied assault (on your great-great grandmother)

Another case of two anons thinking alike!! It was really fun to think about this and sorry for taking so much time to get to it :o I hope you’ll still enjoy 💖✨also the pacing is strange/fast (to me), but i felt it fit with how frantic i imagine meeting Dio is

Somewhere between irking Jonathan and wishing to destroy any respectful sliver of the Joestar bloodline, Dio had his own way of indulging and spending his time. Men, women; any creature he could manipulate to his will and suck the life out of to join his dark army was welcome in his dimly lit hideout to meet their fate. The self proclaimed god that had surmounted humanity took pleasure in playing with his food; leaving them in complete darkness, literally. He’d let them suffer in silence, hearing them whimper and regret their choice to ever step foot inside the wicked monster’s palace. But it was always too late.

Except for the very night Jonathan had decided to come spoil the fun and ruin Dio’s playtime. The woman hadn’t meant anything to him, just a toy to play with and to later discard on the pile of other bodies strewn about. Was she glad to have been saved by the burly Joestar? At first yes; brought back to her senses, out of that monster’s grasp but left terribly violated. Left to carry and care for the offspring Dio would never know or care about, too busy being left to slumber in the ocean and gaining a new form from his hated ‘brother’.

Dio rose again, skulking in the shadows of dimly lit cities, looking for any and all petty humans and stand users to claim for his side. It took time and patience he didn’t know he possessed to get fully comfortable in his new body. There was always this inkling, a nagging sonar that kept getting louder and louder, not much unlike his connection to the new generation of Joestars. It grasped at his thoughts, kept him from any semblance of peace of mind -as much as he could acquire it- and there seemed to be no way of silencing it. He couldn’t see a clear picture; it was just nothing but an annoying sense of something being near.

He had searched for weeks like a bloodhound hot on a trail, irritated that he of all people, nay creations, was being made to follow and be obedient to the terrible nagging. It angered him greatly and only when he found a mere youngster sitting on a bench, you, a simple looking human, did it boil over. Sat with your walkman resting next to you on the wooden seating, head bopping along to your newest cassette in the middle of the night. Completely lost in the song you’d been drumming along to with your fingers. Dio was furious but knew better than to strike before investigating, he needed answers and he needed them now.

As he got closer to you, sneaking from behind, he noticed an immediate shift. You were no longer alone. An image, a blur that became clearer and steadier and more live-like as each second passed; posing defensively, staring down Dio with a fire in your eyes not much unlike the tall blonde’s. Not for a moment does he fear for his safety. Even though The World is a newly acquired power it could easily wipe out a scrawny kid without even hitching a breath. He smirks, eyes cast over in shadow by the dim street light as he hears you pause your cassette player.

“Oh? Was I disturbing you?’ he mocks in a smirk, catching the way your eyes glint and the vaguely familiar image you awaken in him. Just like before he’s left to figure out who this annoying hazy memory is. His voice shivers down your very being, goosebumps taking over your skin; not sure if you had already missed your chance to run. It was like his glare fixated you in place, finger still resting on the pause button of your player while the other reached up to remove the flimsy headphones.

“You…” you barely get out the word. The accusatory tone you had tried to convey had watered down to a whimper. You had felt the connection too, something nagging at your soul and stringing you along until you’d finally found the source. “Me? Hah! No, you.” Dio slid closer, his steps so quiet and calculated that even though you couldn’t take your eyes off of him you swore it seemed like he floated. You swallowed thickly, the huge figure that excluded an aura so menacing only a meter away from you.

“So. Who are you and why was it so disgustingly annoying to find you?” he joked impertinently, amused by the way you clenched your jaw at his remark. “I could ask you the same.” a brave little spark still smouldering inside. “DIO. Now don’t make me ask again, you’re making me dreadfully inpatient.” He hadn’t felt the need to kill you, at least not yet. Dio was truly curious about your answer but by the looks of it you really didn’t seem to know all that much.

You begrudgingly gave him your name, in need of some answers yourself. The sound of your name didn’t ring a single bell, not a tick, not a clank. Nothing. Not a single step further to knowing anything. “Well it seems like you do have a stand. Maybe you possess a great power that might be useful to me.” that wicked grin on his face told you a little too much of his motivations. He reminded you of those Saturday morning cartoon villains. But still you felt compelled to listen, ignoring every single red flag.

Deciding to humour him you give out your stand’s name. “Trust me, we can’t really do much.” you huffed. You’ve only obtained your stand recently and honestly, it has been pretty shitty so far. You didn’t know exactly what it could do, it was just there. Any time you felt stressed or in danger it did come to your aid but it remained awfully docile. Their presence comforted you but you just knew it was capable of so much more.

“Are you a vampire?” The sudden question came out more surprised than Dio had hoped to let on. He regained his posture, opting to slide next to you on the bench with a swift move. There was something… off about the way you carried yourself that reminded him of himself and the other vampires he’d created. The question stunned you, your eyes that had already been widened in shock only growing more so. The way he had changed the entire conversation that had barely earned its start urged you to think quickly. “I don’t know.” you mumbled demurely. You really didn’t know. So many weird things had been happening to you lately that you being a vampire would explain a lot.

Your answer seemed to change the imposing man’s gaze and expression. It hardened a bit, his grin now slowly diminishing into a straighter line and his pointed brows resting down at a more natural angle. Even in this low light his image felt so familiar, like you were already supposed to know who he was but the memory remained hidden. Locked away for your safety. “You should feed. And don’t go out in daylight anymore.” Dio paused for a second. “Strange...” He pondered to himself out loud. He’s only seen a few cases like this, vampiric genes passed down through generations. For some reason he pitied you, as much as he could muster it. The unknown bond you shared felt too unusual to write off.

“What am I supposed to do?” you felt tears prick your eyes, trying your best to remain strong but you’ve been so tired. You couldn't confide in anyone, not about this. Tears started rolling, falling in thick streams down your cheeks and dropping onto your lap. Here you were, crying to a stranger named Dio about being a vampire and having weird powers. A bizarre twist of fate.

“First of all, stop crying. Then, widen your stance when you’re about to fight someone. I could have easily knocked you down with that flimsy imitation. Fix your posture while you’re at it. Call out your stand again.” He rattled off his demands quickly and flatly. Was he helping you? They were barbed complaints but it seemed like he actually wanted to aid you in whatever it was you were going through. You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks. You felt like a kid again; asking your parent for any reassurance when life knocked you down.

Dio actually offered a lot of viable advice, telling you about techniques to silence your steps, how to take someone down easily, to feed on humans within an inch of their life. You had asked him, just in case. You weren’t planning on killing anyone; a comment which made him scoff. That intimidating impression and overall feeling of having to bend to his will had lessened the more you talked to the blonde. He casually sat with you for what felt like hours. He hadn’t divulged into his own history, instead asking you about yours. He was still trying to figure out what this weird pull was.

“No one in your family has experienced anything like this before? Hmph. It seems to have skipped multiple generations then.” he was asking about your great grandmother and all the others that came before you. It could have occurred to them but you would have never known. “My family did come from England, though. My great-great grandmother fled in a hurry. We don’t really know why, Windknight’s Lot seems like an unusual place to frantically run from.” As soon as the small town’s name left your lips everything fell into place for Dio. His grin grew again, satisfied to finally know your connection to him.

Family.

One he made for himself, by accident, by a relation created on his own devious whim. Not that horrible Joestar bunch that kept ruining his fun or his horrible father that was but a faint minuscule memory. Something he did. It brought him even more satisfaction to know how perfectly in place it felt for you to be the one to develop these powers at the perfect time. His mind could have exploded with possibilities; a thousand ways to make you join his side. But it didn’t, he wasn’t sure that’s what he wanted yet. And he surely wasn’t going to tell you of your bond either, lest you get attached too quickly.

As you finished up and the early signs of a rising sun were starting to make itself known on the horizon, you were saying your goodbye’s. “Thank you for helping me. Truly, I- I don’t know how I-” you weren’t allowed to finish your earnest thanks. Dio knew you meant it, one of the only few truly grateful acknowledgements he’s ever received. “I’ll be taking over the world in a few months. If you feel so inclined to join, you know where to find me.” His lips curled into a smirk and he was making his move to leave you behind, alone on the bench again. Left to scramble for your stuff to try and stop him but he was already out of sight. “WAIT! I don’t know where to find you! You never told me!” you yelled into the empty streets, heart thumping out of your chest, hoping this wasn’t just a very elaborate dream you were caught in.

“Trust your instincts.” The voice felt incredibly close but so far away, like catching a falling snowflake; as soon as you grasped it, it just melted away.

#cozy request #dio x reader #jjba x reader #dio brando x reader #jojo x reader #jjba fic #jjba imagines #jojo's bizarre adventure #NOT INC*ST for the love of all that is good #DIO #sfw #gn reader

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 05 (second part)

(Masterpost) (Continued from Episode 05 first part, over here)

Breaking News: Zewu-Jun Continues to be Handsome

Just. Look at that man.

Water Ghost Field Trip

Lans Xichen and Wangji are going ghost hunting and the Yunmeng boys want in. For a simple "can we come?" conversation, a whole lot happens here. Lan Wangji uses his mouth to say he definitely does not want these boys to come while using the rest of his face to secretly beg his brother to invite them.

Corporate recruiter Wei Wuxian advocates for Wen Qing, talking up her skills, and then does the same for Wen Ning. He pays careful attention to what everyone is good at, and advocates specifically based on their abilities. While Wen Ning makes heart eyes at him.

That’s my future dark master

Wei Wuxian also promises to protect Wen Ning, which he ultimately does for the rest of his first life. Wen Qing gives both Jiang boys a genuine sweet smile, and dismantles another anti-WWX ward or two, while still being very protective of her brother's secret.

Lan Xichen says yes to everybody. Lan Xichen is that indulgent elder sibling who's just a bit too old to play with you after school, but will take you to the park when he isn't too busy with varsity and debate club. [OP mentally hugs her third older brother]

Back at the Inn

Fastidious local boy dislikes dust; plans to build house on corpse pile

They get to town and Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian check into a room together. LAN XICHEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Each of these boys came to this town with his own brother, but they are rooming together, how did this even happen?

(more after the cut)

Does this mean Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng are rooming together? and if so are they going to have a hot but ultimately meaningless one-night stand while each pines for the person they truly desire?

Wen Qing is rooming with her own brother, and the other hot girl cultivators stayed back in Gusu. Wen Qing never catches a break.

The innkeeper tells the Hardy Boys cultivators that there’s a shark ghosts in the lake and they’re going to have to close the beaches in the middle of July, oh dear.

Lan Wangji takes a lingering look at one of the beds and then goes to sit at the desk. Wei Wuxian tries to chat with him, fails, and goes and lies down on the bed. They’re not quite getting along yet but they’re moving in that direction, like when you bring a shelter cat home and introduce it to your established cat. Wei Wuxian is obviously the stray tabby in this metaphor, while Lan Wangji is one of those stuck-up Blue Russians.

Physically they are setting the template for many of their future domestic interactions, in which in which Lan Wangji meditates or plays guqin at his desk while Wei Wuxian lays in bed recovering from his latest physical or spiritual injury.

Walk from Dock to Dock

Instead of taking a boat from the dock directly outside the inn, the cultivators walk through a bunch of random countryside. How does anyone around here sell their fish, if the lake isn’t next to the town?

Wei Wuxian chats with Lan Xichen, laying out his case for why all the recent weirdness is connected. Lan Wangji, who has been shut out of his brother’s thinking on all of this, listens super carefully. Lan Xichen straight up lies and says “nuh-uh” and then walks faster to get away, so Wei Wuxian tries grilling Lan Wangji instead.

At this point WWX reveals that he, terrifyingly, shares Lan Xichen’s ability to tell what Lan Wangji is thinking by looking at his face.

Lan Wangji distracts him by pouring out his wine. This isn't LWJ being puritanical; he's escaping from the conversation by using the power of pettiness.

This works perfectly, getting Wei Wuxian to completely drop the subject and allowing Lan Wangji to make a run for it.

Note: Lan Wangji may have just now made up the “No Liquor on Night Hunts” rule, because Wei Wuxian asks him “why don’t I know that?” and if anyone knows Lan Clan rules at this point, it’s Wei Wuxian.

R-A-G-G M-O-P-P Rag Mop

They take a bunch of boats and all stand in the middles of the boats while they use magic, presumably, to move the boats and also to keep from falling the fuck over because you're not supposed to stand up in a boat, assholes.

Cue JAWS music.

Wei Wuxian cleverly spots a rag mop on Lan Wangji’s boat. I would like to know where the Department of Dubious Effects sources their goddamn nerve, because we are in Classic Doctor Who territory with these mop monsters.

Wei Wuxian is out here being impressive, and Lan Wangji is doing his good goddamnest to not be impressed, and to be a sulky bitch while he's at it. He rejects Wei Wuxian’s explanation for why he splashed water on his boat, and rejects this friendly shoulder bump, telling Wei Wuxian to stay away from him.

Look at how Wei Wuxian reacts to that. He is dangerously close to being done with Lan Wangji’s bullshit.

He is opening the fight playbook here. He takes a big ol’ step over the boundary that Lan Wangji just set, which means the first phase has begun.

Let’s take a moment to appreciate the not-at-all suggestive framing and prop placement in that shot.

Lan Xichen is amused at these two extremely deadly extremely horny youngsters getting ready to kill and/or make out with each other.

Suibian

Before this can turn into a fight, the water mops start attacking and Wei Wuxian gets to show off his sword skills.

Wei Wuxian’s crazy high level of cultivation always makes Lan Wangji weak in the knees, which is part of why it’s so distressing for LWJ when WWX gives up the sword during the Sunshot campaign. Cultivation is the heart of their romance, and while Dark Wei Ying is also a high-level cultivator, Lan Wangji isn’t ready to share his narrow path until much later.

Lan Wangji is impressed enough to ask Wei Wuxian about his sword, and is rewarded with the most Wei Wuxian answer ever, as he explains why he named his sword “Whatever.”

The important relationship being shown in this moment is not Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, but Wei Wuxian and Suibian. You can see how he loves it and it's like he's talking about his pet.

And it loves him back, as we later learn. This comfortable symbiosis is part of what he gives up when he sacrifices his core.

Jiang Cheng gets injured by a seaweed mop and Dr. Wen hops over to help him and look at his leg, leaving Wen Ning alone in his boat. This doesn't actually cause a problem for Wen Ning because he's a very strong cultivator.

Later, as the Ghost General, he's more formidable than any other fierce corpse out there, and he is harder for Xue Yang to control than Song Lan is. Which means he’s right now he’s probably one of the more powerful cultivators of his generation in spite of his youth and his wandering-soul problem.

Dance of the Water Ghosts

Now things start to get dicey. Wen Ning notices the color of the water is wrong and Lan Wangji correctly deduces what the water ghosts are doing. Then Wei Wuxian correctly identifies the water demon. As a corporate teambuilding exercise this is going very well, but as a night hunt it is maybe a little more dangerous than expected.

Lan Wangji says everyone needs to ride their swords and all of the actors fling their arms out in a T and pretend they’re not just standing there in front of the camera. It’s so fucking ridiculous I can’t even.

However, it’s even worse when they show them standing on the swords. It’s SO MUCH WORSE when they show them standing on the swords.

Back to Corporate Strengths Finder 2.0: Su She has no strengths, just weaknesses. Instead of riding his sword he wants to take one last swipe at a rag mop. He sends his sword into the water and it loses its bluetooth connection and he can't get it to come back out.

The entire group of Lan clan disciples hop up into the air on their swords and not one of them tries to help Su She, which is hilarious.

Sweet baby Wen Ning, however, being a good lad, does go help him, and gets possessed, oops.

Wei Wuxian grabs Wen Ning and flinches when he sees his white eyes, but hangs on to him.

When Lan Wangji sees that Wei Wuxian is in danger he makes this face and goes and grabs him and Su She.

A hilarious midair conversation ensues, along with some relationship negotiation. Wangji is touch starved and aims to keep it that way. At least in public.

Lan Xichen fires up the battle flute and seals the water demon and oh my god how is he so elegant and beautiful?

What’s Wrong With The Baby

Wei Wuxian back at the Inn is checking on Wen Ning in a genuinely concerned way, having basically signed on as a co-elder sibling at this point, sensing that Wen Ning is broken. Wei Wuxian is friendly with everybody but he's particularly protective of anyone who's hurt.

Wen Qing shows up and tells him quite directly to get the fuck out, but he surprises her by understanding what's up with Wen Ning and making it clear that he's on her side as far as care for Wen Ning goes, while he still knows that she's up to something.

Giving Gifts to Girls, Yunmeng Brothers Style

Wei Wuxian: I deduced that your beloved brother has no personal firewall and can be possessed easily in spite of his high cultivation level, so I used my expertise to make a special talisman that can protect him from invasion by hostile entities. Here, even if you and I are sorta enemies I want him to have this. Also I’m going to throw in a casual acknowledgement of your professional expertise.

Jiang Cheng: I bought you a comb

Squeeze This

Wei Wuxian tosses an approximately testicle-sized loquat fruit to Lan Wangji and Lan Wangji catches it without looking, and an ENORMOUS romantic music cue swells up.

Then he rejects it and throws it back. He doesn't, of course, just avoid catching it in the first place because that wouldn’t be elegant and pointed enough. In a later episode, when they begin travelling together, Wei Wuxian will announce his presence in this same way, throwing a loquat fruit at to Lan Wangji, who will catch it and keep it.

Wei Wuxian tosses the rejected loquat over to Jiang Cheng, who catches it, not realizing he is going to be Wei Wuxian’s second choice man in every instance from this point onward.

Outtro

Soundtrack

Jaws music obvs

WuJi aka Wanxian which is playing constantly when they are in the library, presumably this is the sound in LWJ’s head

Lookin’ Out My Back Door by CCR

Nothing, from A Chorus Line

Rag Mop by the Ames Brothers (warning before you google it: this will give you a permanent earworm)

Writing prompt: Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng explore Gusu while WWX is stuck in the library

Restless Rewatch Episode 06 is here!

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #the untamed memes #wangxian #chen qing ling #the untamed spoilers #the untamed stills #restless rewatch #canary3d-original #restless rewatch the untamed #wei wuxian #wen qing #lan xichen #lan wangji #my gifs #cql not mzds but mzds is good too

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exosmutfactory · 4 years ago

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Six Phases 006 Pt 6

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

A/N: I couldn't find a picture to match Baekhyun's appearance—so I chose one that fits his mood instead 2.0 😅 ♡

[ contains: angst ] Two’s a couple, Three’s a crowd 💔

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) | Part 6 P(1) P(2) —– P(3) P(4) —– P(5) P(6) ✓ ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1) P(2)

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

My heels click rhythmically on the sidewalk, in perfect sync with the song I’m humming. I’ve taken a liking to listening to new music lately instead of sticking to the same old artists that I’ve heard a thousand times. Trying to expand my horizons and replace sob-inducing ballads with uplifting trap beats.

It’s going okay so far: moving on. Learning how to navigate the world while riding solo. It’s not like I haven’t done it before—sleepless nights aren’t new. Lack of appetite isn’t either. A breakup will never be the end of the world, no matter how excruciating it is. So why should I let it hold me back and define me?

Birds chirp merrily in the trees, bringing a smile to my face, especially when I catch sight of a little hummingbird enjoying nectar from a patch of flowers. If there’s one thing I can say that has helped me during this time, it’s nature. Simply looking out at the world from my apartment window and taking long walks around the more remote parts of this city have calmed my soul more than I can express with words.

I’m watching the squirrels scurry around on the other side of the street while waiting for the crosswalk light to turn green when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I sigh, so much for a moment of tranquility.

I pull my phone out of my tiny jean pocket, furrowing my brows at the caller ID. Jongin…? That’s strange, has he ever called me before? I rack my brain for answers. Nope, this is the first time he is calling me. Flashbacks of our distant friendship since that one summer fight I had with a certain someone flashes through my mind... I press my phone to my ear before I can overthink it any longer. "Hello?"

"Riley." Jongin’s smooth voice filters over the line.

"Hi," I mumble, continuing down the street, noticing a beautiful blue and green butterfly flying by with a smile. The pitter patter of a water fountain in the distance has me falling back into my 'Zen’ mode. "What’s up? How are you?"

"I need a favor." He drops; straight to the point. Sending me right into a panic.

My phone nearly falls to the ground. "...You didn’t break a leg or something-"

"No, no," He immediately responds, recognizing the high pitch of hysteria in my voice. "It’s nothing bad."

Thank fuck, the last thing I need right now is bad news. It may be the end of March, but I’m not really feeling this 'Spring’ season. My mood shifts faster than the strong wind. The only stress I try to have nowadays are always work related because if I stop and think about my personal life for a moment I am fucked.

I take a deep breath, leaning my back against a light pole before replying to him. "Okay."

"There’s a dance competition in June," He slowly explains, "and I need a partner."

"Oh..." I blink a few times, straightening back up. "Huh… I’m sorry, I’m not really good at choosing candidates. I’m not a professional-"

"I mean you." He interjects, background music drifting over the line. "I want you to be my partner."

I pull the phone away from my ear for a moment, looking at it in disbelief, "I'm sorry—What?"

"I have a routine already," His voice takes on a warmer tone, pure persuasion dripping from his honeyed words. "With your name all over it."

"...Eh??" I look off to the side, trying in vain to find something—anything to distract me from the tingles zapping down my spine at the sound of his voice. God… what the fuck? "Don’t you have like a million other people who specialize in-"

"I made the choreography for you."

My heart hammers in my chest. "And why the heck would you do that?" I demand, tightening my grip on the phone. Something out of the corner of my eye suddenly captures my attention, dragging my eyes over to it instantly. The sight that greets me has my throat going dry, gulping as my hands shake.

It’s Baekhyun—and he isn’t alone.

He’s accompanied by a tall, beautiful woman, the same height as him in her flat sandals. Her black hair reaches the middle of her back, contrasting against her light blue overalls and swaying softly in the cool wind. They lean against a brick wall next to a cute coffee shop with matching coffee cups in their hands.

Jongin’s words fade into background noise while I watch them. My vision blurs when she laughs, resting her hand on his arm. The way she easily initiates physical contact with him speaks volumes; this isn’t their first meeting. It’s been 2 months since January, and yet...

My heart constricts painfully in my chest, I suck in a deep breath. Lightheadedness hits me full force, I quickly cling onto the pole when my body sways off balance. Shit… I must have been holding my breath.

"Riley?" Jongin’s muffled voice drifts from my distant phone. Thankfully it fell onto the parking meteor next to me and not on the ground. "Riley!"

Burning a hole into the back of Baekhyun’s silver-haired head, I bring the phone back to my ear. "I’ll do it," I mumble lowly.

"I’m sorry?"

Staring at Baekhyun and his new friend, I make my decision. "I’ll be your partner."

•••

Okay… Maybe I was too hasty in agreeing to this whole dance competition thing. I should have waited to make a decision when I was in a better state of mind.

It’s been a good four weeks since I agreed to be Jongin’s partner—four weeks of pure hell.

If I had known what kind of dance moves were incorporated in this routine I never ever would have agreed. The choreography appears simple and subtle enough on the surface, especially thanks to Jongin’s gifted skills, but that’s the problem. It’s not simple; it’s a fucking ankle breaker. It’s pure well-organized insanity and I don’t know how much more of it that I can take.

"From the top," Jongin’s voice echoes in the dance studio. He presses a remote to start the song over again. I try to stay focused, ignoring the looming figures of the other hostile dancers in the room. Why they all gathered here to watch us practice today, I have no idea, but it isn’t helping me at all.

The bass booming from the stereo speakers vibrates the wood under my feet. Sweat permeates the air. Their predator-like stares break me down from the inside out. The memory of Baekhyun with that woman pops into my mind...

"5, 6, 7-"

Shit!

Gasps echo around the room when it happens: I collapse onto the floor, clutching onto my throbbing ankle.

"Riley?!" Something about the alarm in Jongin’s voice makes me wince, curling in on myself as everyone’s whispers float into the air.

"Oh my god, is she serious...?"

"See what I mean! She has two left feet. Why is he wasting his time on her?"

"Dumbass can’t even do a single number, let alone a simple choreography. The way he chose that over me…"

I try my best to reel in my emotions, to keep the hurt from being seen on my face, but there’s only so much I can bear—there’s only so much I can take.

Tears pelt down my face while their loud gasps and delighted giggles fill the air. I make a move to climb to my feet, ready to bolt out of here and never step foot in this place again when a gentle hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Riley." It’s Jongin, crouching down to meet my eye. "Are you okay?"

I can only shake my head, losing my breath as their taunting voices swirl around my head like a whirlpool, consuming me whole.

"Riley, stay with me." Jongin rests both his hands on my shoulders, directing my eyes to his whenever I look away. "Talk to me. What’s wrong?"

"I-I," I choke, covering my face in my hands before I sob pathetically on the hardwood floor. The throbbing of my backside and ankle only makes it worse.

"Ri-"

"Look at her! Pathetic at it’s finest."

Jongin stiffens, I don’t even need to see him to know that he’s gone rigid. His hand slips off my shoulder as I watch his silhouette rise from the spaces between my fingers, standing to his full height.

"Mind sharing with the class what you just said, Kim Nora?" He looks at the woman in the middle of the 5 dancers leaning against the far wall, his jaw clenching.

"I-"

"If you have something to say, say it."

"I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for years. Years, Jongin!" She snaps, her shrill voice bouncing off of the walls. "I’m on time for every rehearsal. I practice until I bleed. Why does this no-name slut get to come in here and take it from me when she can’t even stand on her own two feet?!"

"Kim Nora." The way he says her name has everyone on edge. My back prickles in fear and secondhand embarrassment. He’s not even directing that stone cold tone at me and I’m hella uncomfortable sitting here.

"Who’s dance studio is this, Nora?"

"Yours-" She looks away, not brave enough to meet his eyes anymore. "-M-Mr. Kim..."

Jongin hums, holding his hands behind his back while pacing up and down the floor. "Who’s name is on the sign out front, everyone?"

"Yours, Mr. Kim." They chime in sync with meek voices. A look of regret painted on every single one of their faces.

"Mine." He concludes, satisfied before turning his dark eyes back onto Nora. "Let me explain something to you, Nora."

Her eyes stay focused on the floor.

"This is my practice, my building." He stops pacing, stretching his arms out to showcase the room. "You are under my roof." He looks dead at her, eyes colder than ice. "You are here because I let you. Do you understand that?"

"Y-yes, sir, but I-"

"Next time," He cuts her off, "You decide to be immature. Next time, you decide that your knowledge is anything close to my expertise." He steps closer, and I’ve never seen a person standing 3 feet away have such an impact on an individual. "Next time, you decide to mock one of my friends." He lowers his voice, and I can feel the heavy promise coming off him in waves. "You are gone. Do you understand me?"

Nora babbles something unintelligible, tears brimming her eyeliner caked eyes.

"Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes!" She sucks in a breath, snot clogging her nose as she directs her eyes back to the floor. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He steps away, turning on his heel before rushing back over to me. "Riley," His voice is softer now, much like the Jongin who helped rescue me from my birthday party 2 years ago.

"Hey..." I hush, lowering my hands to my lap.

"Are you okay?" He hands me a clean towel, his brows furrowed in worry. "How’s your ankle?"

"I-It’s fine."

He raises a brow, reaching out a hand to me. "May I?"

"Yeah." I sigh, noticing the familiar look of concern on his face.

Jongin takes my ankle into his hands, handling it carefully and pressing a few places. "Does it hurt?" His frown deepens when I wince. "And here?"

"Yeah," I nod, my face pinched up in pain.

"From 1 to 10," He continues, looking me dead in the eyes, "How much pain are you in?"

My lips part to answer, but I pause, biting the bullet and wiggling my ankle around to see how bad it actually is. "F-four out of ten." I grit out, still so sensitive that tears sting my eyes again.

"It’s sprained." He concludes, gently lowering it back to the floor.

"W-what does that mean?" I ask fearfully. Whatever it means, it doesn’t sound good with the contest 6 weeks away. Shit, why am I such a fuck up? What if I can’t perform let alone learn the choreography in time? I’m such a failure, I-

"It’s not bad," He reassures, resting a comforting hand on my arm. "A few days off of it and you should be good as new."

"R-really?"

Jongin nods, smiling softly. "Nothing a few days off can’t fix."

"Oh, thank you," I whisper in relief, wrapping my arms around his neck to mask the tears that escape my eyes. "Thank you, thank you."

"No," Jongin shakes his head, hugging me warmly, whispering just as quietly in my ear. "Thank you."

•••

After that day, none of the dancers have bothered me, let alone showed up to any more dance practices. Jongin made sure of that. No one fucked around with him either after the way he resolved the issue. An angry Jongin is a scary Jongin; that much I know now.

Sighing softly, I look up at the fluffy clouds overhead, trying to salvage the calm that washes over me in wake of April’s flourishing weather. The flowers are more alive than ever. Small animals and other critters run around for food on the ground. The world around me is the picture-perfect example of nature at its finest—so why is there an uneasy feeling weighing on my chest?

Work is going well and the book we had spent months and months preparing was released last week. I’m on my way to the nearest bookstore to grab a copy for myself. To check that no grammar related errors got past my keen eyes or because I genuinely enjoy the novel, who knows. I want to see the final product for myself and check out other releases. It’s about time I pick up another book besides the one I stayed up countless nights making sure everything was finalized.

A cute bell chimes when I step through the door, hit with the aroma of fresh coffee. Every time I go to a bookstore or library, it’s like I am stepping into another world. The shelves filled to the brim with hundreds, maybe thousands of literature, all at the touch of your fingertips.

From ebooks to the dusty classics, I love them all. I may not read everything; I might be one of the pickiest readers out there, but I appreciate the blood, sweat, and tears that go into every completed book. Good or bad, the author has big balls for trying and putting their name out there. I have mad respect for that.

Venturing further into the shop, my eyes catch the Fantasy section with ease. I make my way over, already seeing a colorful display set out for the newest releases. The sight of the book I’m looking for brings a smile to my face. It feels different to see it in a store instead of reading the rough drafts in the comfort of my bed. Damn the graphic designers put their foot in the cover; it captures the personalities of the main characters perfectly. I couldn’t be more proud.

My smile widens the closer I get to the display, realizing that there is only one copy left of the book. Deserved; everyone from the author to the marketing team have done their best to make this book a big seller. Thankfully the universe left one just for me.

Just as my fingertips touch the edge of the paperback cover, someone else’s hand brushes against mine.

"Oh! Sorry-"

"Ah, I’m so sor-"

My heart plummets and my head snaps up to look at them at once. Puppy brown eyes that I could identify out of countless others and a million stars stare wide-eyed right back into mine.

Fuck.

"Riley?" He breathes, his handsome face painted in disbelief.

I can only wheeze, my chest throbbing as if my heart will explode.

Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck—

Before he can say another word, before I can crumble in front of his questioning orbs, I turn on my heel and sprint out of there like a bat out of hell.

I’ve been doing better, I’m slowly healing from it all, but the moment I see his face—his sweet, tired, kicked-puppy face, I fold quicker than an umbrella in an incoming hurricane. It hurts worse than the force of an 18-wheeler. My whole world full of its fragile edges and duct tape unravels under the weight.

Normally, I wouldn’t do this.

…

Okay scratch that—I used to do this. All the damn time, but with the way our lives have changed and that one conversation we had back in March 2 years ago I… I haven’t been able to bring myself to talk to him. I’ve made it my mission to avoid Sehun.

I know what he will say the minute I tell him what’s up: I told you so—the bane of my existence. That one phrase alone is enough to keep me from confessing so many things. I rather suffer in silence than hear that sentence, but… This is different.

No matter how much it pains me and paints me in shame, I need to tell my best friend what's been going on. After everything he has done for me since our childhood... I owe him that much. So here I am now.

I chew on my bottom lip and knock firmly on his apartment door, waiting for someone to answer with bated breath.

It opens a few minutes later, revealing his unmistakable tall form as he dries his hair. Sehun does a double take. "Shorty?" He breathes in disbelief, pausing in ruffling his messy black locks.

I laugh a little, warmth sparking in my aching heart from the nickname. "Yeah," I breathe, managing a wobbly smile, already feeling tears prickle my eyes. "That's me."

We stare at each other for a long moment, nothing but the distant swish of driving cars and the muffled conversations happening beyond the open balcony on his floor fills the silence. Ah… My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I shouldn’t have come here. He’s probably busy enough as it is-

As if reading my mind, Sehun’s gaze softens. He throws the towel around his neck before opening his arms. "Come here."

I bury myself in his chest without hesitation, soaking the fabric of his black t-shirt with my tears. "I’m sorry," I croak, holding back sobs.

"Hey, hey," a low, soothing voice chimes in, resting a hand on my arm. "What happened?"

"I don’t know," Sehun mumbles, rubbing my back as I shake in his arms. "But whoever did it will be missing an arm."

"N-No need, Hun," I sniffle with a shaky sigh, pulling away from his embrace. A chill covers my skin with goosebumps the moment I step away. It’s been like this all week; feeling hot to the touch, yet shaking like a leaf at the same time. I have no idea what is going on, and at this point… I don’t want to know. I can say that for a lot of things.

Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I turn around, smiling apologetically at the brown-haired man standing in the doorway. "I’m sorry for popping up out of the blue, Lu."

"Nonsense," Luhan shakes his head, his curly hair partially covering his worry-filled eyes. He takes my hand between his, "Come in, I’ll make us some tea."

"Okay," I whisper, shuffling into their apartment. I take the tissue box he offers me, following him into the spacious living room. He goes into the kitchen while I sit down on their couch, my breath hitching from the emotions budding in my chest.

Sehun closes the door, noisily walking on the wooden floor in his flip flops. He sits down next to me, questioning me with his unwavering stare, but I can’t bring myself to meet his eye. I… I don’t know where to begin; I can’t even find the words. The squeal of the teapot in the other room fills the tense silence between us.

"Alright," He sighs, propping his foot up on the coffee table and resting his arm on his knee before giving me a hard look. "What did Byun do?"

I choke, snapping my eyes to his, "How do you know?"

"You never visit," He points out in the driest of tones. "And when you do, you always call first."

I can only lower my head, pulling my knees to my chest.

"You don’t usually cry after seeing my face either. I mean," He continues, nudging me with his elbow. "Am I ugly or something?"

I snort. "Shut up." Shaking my head, I sigh deeply. "I just… A lot has happened." Risking a peek at him, my shoulders relax at the worried furrow of his brows and the care in his sharp brown eyes.

He nods, smiling the softest that I’ve seen in a long time. "I got time."

I smile a little, my chest bursting in gratefulness for having a friend like him in my life. No matter what happens or what I get into, I can always count on Sehun to be there.

…

If only I didn’t have so much baggage to bring to his door.

"I…" Come on; I ball my hands into the fabric of my shirt. Say it.

Sehun keeps his eyes on me and I struggle more to get the words out, my chest starting to heave. Should I be here? Should I be doing this? What will he say? What if this just makes everything worse—

No.

Sehun is my best friend. We have shared so many memories together, the good and the bad. I was the first person he came out to. He was there when my father walked out of my life. I cheered him on as he climbed the ranks of his weight training team. He helped me catch fireflies in my backyard when all I could rely on was my poor eyesight.

It’s always been him and I against this cruel world. One man—one boy, won’t change that overnight.

"I broke up with Baekhyun."

"What?!" Sehun leaps off of the couch. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah..." I drag out, looking him up and down in confusion. Panic hits me in the gut. "W-Why? What’s wrong-"

"Dude!" He exclaims, tangling his hands in his hair, the most comically distressed expression on his normally 'bitch’ face. "I thought he broke up with you."

The thought of what would have happened if Baekhyun had been the one to dump me makes my heart hurt so much I feel the color drain from my face.

"H-Hey," Sehun immediately takes notice, waving his hands around. "Not on the couch, anywhere but the couch-"

Luhan suddenly appears behind him with a tray of drinks, lovingly smacking the back of his head. "Here," He soothes, ignoring Sehun’s pelulant whines while setting down the tray on the coffee table and offering a mug to me.

"Thank you, Lu." I breathe, smiling when the scent of lemon and ginger hits my nose.

Luhan takes the seat on the other side of me, resting a comforting hand on my knee. "We’re here." He nods, sharing a look with Sehun before focusing back on me with the gentlest of eyes. "Whenever you are ready."

Gulping, I curl my fingers around my mug, the warmth of the tea and their soft eyes giving me the strength to open up.

I am finally able to put everything into words… I just hope we all make it out unscathed.

Closing my eyes, I start from the very beginning, updating them on what has happened since the year we started dating. The summer fight I never told Sehun about, Baekhyun’s ex Haneul following me around. The French lady at the photoshoot, the model behind the scenes. Our fight that reached the public. What went down at the Byun’s house… And finally… how I ran, and never looked back.

Sehun’s facial expressions shift from one extreme to the next throughout my confession. At one point I have to look away from him, stuttering the more I see the disappointment in his eyes. By the end of it, I’m mumbling to the lukewarm mug between my palms rather than them.

My words trail off into silence, nothing but the ticking of Luhan’s treasured grandfather clock making a sound. I’ve grown to hate this the most: the empty space that leaves room for my thoughts to sneak up on me again.

"You were hiding all of this..." Sehun speaks up, betrayal joining the disappointment in his eyes. "All this time."

A lump forms in my throat, "I-"

"You kept this to yourself for years." He grits out, his voice growing sadder by the minute. "Years, Riley."

"I’m sorry," I sob, curling up into a ball, choking on my tears. "I’m s-so sorry."

"Why?" He runs a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I-I didn’t wanna bother you," I babble, gasping so much for air I choke even more. "You’re busy with work and your own love life, who am I to bother you with my problems?" Tears blur my vision and stain my glasses, rolling uncomfortably down the bridge of my nose. "Isn’t that what growing up is about?" I whisper, staring lifelessly down at my untouched tea. "Learning how to depend on yourself?"

"Riley, I don’t care if you’re fucking 80." Sehun barks, scaring me until he opens his arms, forgiveness swirling in his softened brown eyes. "You can come to me for anything."

"O-Okay," I mumble, hiding in his chest.

"Do you hear me?"

"Yes."

"I don’t care if you shave your relaxed hair, adopt a cat, or the world is on fire." He proclaims sternly. "No matter what, you can always come to me."

The comforting smell of fresh laundry on his clothes has my shoulders relaxing, my sobs quieting down to small hiccups. "Okay."

"Good. Now take these sweaters back."

His words take a few moments to register in my sluggish mind. "Huh?" I blink, lifting my head off of him, sitting up fully and immediately recognizing the bundle of clothes in Luhan’s hands. "No," I shake my head, ignoring how dizzy I suddenly feel. "Sehun, those are yours-"

"And I want you to have them."

"I-" My heart constricts in conflict, "But-"

"But nothing. You act like I don’t know that your ass gets cold." He mutters grumpily, crossing his arms. "Keep them, alright?" Being the observant guy that he is, he picks up on my weary glance at Luhan. "Lu chipped in some of his too."

"Mine are comfier," His boyfriend jokes, smiling cheekily.

"Yah."

"You know it’s the truth."

"Only because you—yah! Why are you crying now?!"

"I just…" I sniffle, laughing softly. "I love you guys."

Luhan’s smile brightens while I whine over Sehun messing up my hair. "We love you more."

•••

May passes by in the blink of an eye, mature plants welcoming the upcoming summer heat. I love and hate this for two reasons. One, it’s a certain someone-who-shall-not-be-named birth month. Two, the dance competition is two weeks away. Two weeks. It is literally May 20th and I am sweating my hair out over it.

Why did I agree to this forsaken competition again? Oh right—I decided that a two-step routine is the equivalent of a love triangle. Nice going, Riley.

I sigh, wiping my forehead with the back of my arm. Two weeks until the competition means that my schedule is more packed. Yeah Park’s Publishing may be on an "easy going" break from publishing books right now, but I’m not getting a breather.

Nope, the moment I jokingly told Jongin how I didn’t know what to do with all my free time, he brought up daily dance practice—no, he down right demanded it. And when I started to complain:

"What? It’s not like you have anything else better to do."

I’ve been seething over that for a week.

Huffing at the memory, I plop my bag not-so-subtly on a chair before looking at Jongin on the other side of the room.

"Glaring at me won’t help you perfect the choreo faster-"

"Suck my dick."

"Oh, baby," He grins, raising a brow. "I would if I could." He saunters his way over to me, his beautiful bronze skin already glowing in a thin sheen of sweat when he leans down to face me, "but I don’t mind either way."

I push him away with a hard roll of my eyes, "Let’s get this over with."

"Feisty," He humors. "Someone is feeling better today."

"Better enough to kick your ass," I mutter, tying up my hair in a messy bun.

"Let’s rehearse the second verse," He takes a swing of his water bottle, a serious expression on his features. "Then we’ll talk."

"Bring it on," I lift my chin, playing tough despite the nervousness washing over me.

He nods, grabbing the stereo remote and getting into position. "Show me what you got."

We go over the steps one last time before we begin. The first half of the choreo goes smoothly… and then I stumble the moment the second chorus hits.

"Let’s take a break."

"No," I shake my head, resting my hands on my knees.

"Riley."

"One more time." I pant, trying to catch my breath. "I swear I got it, just-"

"We’ve been at it for 30 minutes."

"But-"

"Break. Now."

I flop to the floor in a tired heap, groaning loudly to annoy him. I’m grateful he called for a break though, my flat feet are crying for mercy like no one’s business. Maybe I should—"Ah," I sigh in relief.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking off my shoes," I mumble, throwing him a look over my shoulder, not liking his attitude. "My feet are dying over here."

Jongin raises a brow, leaning against the mirror on the other side of the room. "Your parents didn’t see a pediatrician about that?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Born and raised in America," I chirp. "The land of the free, Mother fucka."

Both his brows shoot up. "Are you feverous?"

"No," I mumble, fiddling with a loose string on my shirt. "It’s really hot out."

"Have you been sleeping?" His eyes narrow at my lack of response. "Riley?"

"Oh would you look at that, the ceiling tiles have a noticeable gap between them-"

"Sit down."

"I’m fine." I sigh, reluctantly dragging myself over to the only chair in the room.

"You won’t be if you keep this up." He points out, more than a little peeved. "Have you been drinking enough?"

"I-"

He thrusts his water bottle in front of me. "Drink this."

"But you drank from it!"

"I’ll give you mouth to mouth too if you don’t sit your ass down."

I blink, giving him a long, wide-eyed stare. "Why so serious?" The fed up expression on his face is enough of an answer. "Okay—okay! Fine." Inspecting the bottle for anything floating around on the bottom, I tilt my head back to pour some water in my mouth, mumbling with stuffed cheeks, "There, happy?"

Jongin just sighs, turning on a rotating fan. "Stay here. I don’t want you moving until you finish that bottle."

"Sir yes sir," I mutter, giving a little salute. Grinning when he glares sternly at me. He sighs before going back to the other side of the room.

Watching him practice his solo parts in the mirror, I leisurely sip from the bottle, noticing how his shirt sticks to his fit body. Jongin is tall, a bit broad, and lean. He has a dancer’s body and muscle in all the right places—I can’t imagine his diet. I shiver at the thought of it, checking my forehead. I’m not picky about fitness; I’m a bit on the curvy side myself. I rather have something to sink my fingers into. Speaking of which...

"Hey, Jongin?" I call him tentatively, continuing when he hums. "Why… Why did you make a choreo with me in mind?"

He doesn’t respond for a minute, and I wonder if he will until he goes over to retrieve something from his bag. "I always wanted to dance with you," He admits, throwing a towel around his neck. "To know what it was like to view your beauty up close." He bends his knee, bracing his foot against the wall as my eyes widen. "The way you move, twirl around, and glide across the floor. The blissed out expression on your face… You are at home on the dancefloor, and it shows." He looks up at me then. "You shine brighter than a million stars."

I forget how to breathe for a moment, staring at him with wide eyes and a racing heart.

"I’ve never been envious of Baekhyun but..." His sultry eyes meet mine again. "When it comes to you, it’s hard to fight my jealousy."

My lips part a few times, endless questions dying on the tip of my tongue. Realizing I’m gaping like a fish out of water, I settle for looking down with a hot blush.

Jongin chuckles, tossing his towel onto his bag. "Come on," He pushes off of the wall, walking over to me and taking me by the hand. "Let’s finish up for today."

"I can stand up on my own, you know?" I grumble. "...Thank you."

He just smiles before we take our positions in the middle of the room.

We take it from the top again, soaring through the routine without a hiccup. I put all my energy into not missing a step, dancing beside and around him with ease—

"Stop."

"What?" I blink, turning around to him. "What’s wrong now?"

"That."

"What?" I repeat, my eyes narrowing.

"That." He emphasises, gesturing to me. "You’re too tense. You need to relax."

"How do you expect me to relax, Jongin?" I mumble heatedly, hurt swelling inside of my chest. "I broke up with the love of my life. I had a shitty week. I can barely do the second verse of the choreo without breaking my ankles-"

"You can’t relax," He speaks up, suddenly standing in front of me. Staring into my eyes with his determined ones. "Because you don’t want to."

"I-"

"You fear what will happen if you do." He continues, holding me captive with his piercing gaze. "You fear the unknown."

"D-Don’t I have the right to...?" I hush, feeling my heart race the longer I look into his observant brown eyes. A part of me hates it; being read like an open book. My vulnerabilities and weak points on display without me wanting them to be. But this is Jongin.

He stares deep into my eyes, his minty breath washing over my cheeks. "Not on my watch."

There’s nothing to fear.

He selects a song for the stereo to play, and the moment a certain afrobeat instrumental plays through its speakers, I feel the urge to move my body deep in my soul.

"Let go," He encourages, turning around to meet my eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

Woman

Let me be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I can be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I’m intimidated by my reflection in the mirror. The sight of me with messy hair, dewy skin, baggy clothes, and my bare feet makes me feel like the wildest looking woman in the world… until I see the sadness and fear visible in my own eyes.

Let me be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I can be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

Slowly, I move my hips to the beat, getting a feel for it while watching myself in the mirror. My awkward posture makes me tsk, shifting into a more flattering and stable position.

What you need?

She give tenfold, come here, papa, plant your seed

She can grow it from her womb, a family

Provide lovin' overlooked and unappreciated, you see (Yeah)

The lyrics… A sense of empowerment washes over me in waves, motivating the swirl of my hips and the smile forming on my lips. The melody of the song begins to seep into my very bones, warming me up from the inside out.

You can reciprocate

I got delicious taste, you need a woman's touch in your place

Just protect her and keep her safe

Baby, worship my hips and waist

So feminine with grace

I touch your soul when you hear me say, "Boy"

Let me be your woman

Winding my waist feels like the most natural thing in the world, circling my wrists while bringing my hands back down to my sides. I can see Jongin’s proud smile from the corner of my eye.

My movements get more energetic as the chorus plays again, the repetitive lyrics flowing like the blood in my veins, felt deep in my very being. Hitting me on a level that very few things ever could.

I glide across the floor when the second verse begins, letting my hair loose and throwing my weight around. The soreness of my waist only makes me shimmer harder, fighting against the aches trying to hold me back—against the chains locked in my mind.

Princess or queen, tomboy or king (Yeah)

You've heard a lot, you've never seen (Nah)

Mother Earth, Mother Mary rise to the top

Divine feminine, I'm feminine (Why?)

Throwing my hands up, I smile as Jongin starts complimenting my movements, playing a smooth rhythmic cat and mouse game with him all over the dance studio. My bare feet on the wooden floor propels me forward, making me feel more connected with the Earth around me, with the woman I want to be.

I’ve caught up to him by the time the song ends, breathing heavily with giddiness pumping in my veins. For the first time in months, maybe even years, I feel like me again—I’ve found myself again.

A hand tucking hair behind my ear has my eyes snapping up to Jongin’s, the adoring expression in his chestnut brown eyes making me feel small and appreciated at the same time. He cradles my face in the palm of his hand, rubbing his thumb over the apple of my cheek. Tingles erupt on my skin; my heart swells with something I haven’t felt in a long time when he starts to lean in.

"You were out fucking Jongin."

I flinch away, pressing my back to the wall, my heart in my throat. "I-I," I look away, hot embarrassment painting my face red. "I don’t want to make you a rebound." A thought occurs to me at that moment: how much taller and stronger Jongin is than me. The consequence of my actions. The vacant practice room. Fearing the worst, I hold my breath, squeezing my eyes shut.

Nothing happens for a while, the silence dragging on for so long that I start to grow lightheaded, cursing myself for agreeing to all of this in the first place.

Are you happy?

I pause, thinking hard for a moment. Despite the rain cloud constantly hanging over my head, I am doing something that I love. Regardless of me looking like pure shit, Jongin sees a light in me. And against all the fucking odds, I… I feel liberated. I feel free.

With that, I open my eyes, staring fearlessly at the man in front of me.

To my surprise, Jongin smiles. "I don’t want to overstep my boundaries," He mumbles, resting his forehead on mine.

A smile breaks out on my face, putting my secret dimples on full display.

It’s finally D Day—the dance competition is just about to begin, and I can’t for the life of me find my bracelet.

"Do you really need that?" Jongin carefully ruffles his styled hair, squinting with one eye over at me.

"It’s for luck," I justify, searching both our bags.

"You depend on a silly little bracelet to give you luck?"

"My grandma made it for me," I snap, my blood pressure skyrocketing.

"Okay, okay—you," He gently takes me by the shoulders, directing me to his chair. "Sit. I’ll find it."

Finding that all-too-familiar 'no nonsense’ expression on his face, I sigh, carefully covering my eyes with my hand. Both of us got our makeup done for today. He’s got on a golden glimmer of eyeshadow to bring out the sultry brown of his eyes, and I’m rocking a burgundy shade that makes my eyes have their own sensual glare in the mirror.

Tucking my hair-sprayed hair behind my ear, I wince at the thought of washing it out later, but the end result is worth it. My brown hair is bone-straight, complementing Jongin’s lavender-gray, middle-parted hair. Not gonna lie, he’s a total eye-candy right now in that red jacket and mesh shirt, and his stage presence is to die for. His oozing confidence just pumps me up even more.

Watching him pull out my bracelet from some hidden department that I have never seen before in my life and come over to strap it onto my wrist with the gentlest touch has newfound hope blossoming in my heart. We came to perform and we came to perform well.

As if hearing my thoughts, Jongin looks up at me at that moment, nodding firmly.

I nod right back, smiling softly. Win or lose, we are going to give it our all.

We make our way out of the dressing room, listening for our cue from the staff member next to the gap leading out onto the stage. They give directions to someone in their headset before giving us the signal.

I can hear the crowd as we step onto the stage, vibrating the floor under us and my whole being with their excited cheers. Nerves aren't pumping furiously through my veins. No, pure adrenaline guides me forward, and the reassuring smile Jongin sends my way makes me at ease all the more.

When the lights dim and the music starts, my hands are already in my hair, my hips popping to the beat.

Just let it flow as it is for me.

As it moves, show me.

I slide down into a crouch, spreading my knees before rolling my neck to the beat. Quickly standing back up, I slowly run my hands through my hair, swaying my hips side to side. I stop moving to let the crowd focus on Jongin, watching him with a smile.

The party has been getting boring.

Jongin starts doing his own thing while I beckon him closer with a body roll, strutting to him on the other side of the stage. I strike a different pose along to the beat, rubbing my hands over my body and rolling my hips.

Don’t hide it anymore for me

Sliding my hand down my chest, we lock eyes before the chorus hits.

The reason that hides your heart

Do you feel it triggering me a bit?

Here comes the fun part; we sync up our dance moves. Shooting each other little smiles while staying on beat. My long hair sways in the wind; the feeling of being free—free to be me striking me with a sense of comfort in this moment. Jongin catches my eye as if he feels it as well, his killer smirk morphing into a heartwarming smile.

Baby don’t play with me

I slow down to sway my hips to the beat while Jongin slides behind me, pressing his firm chest to my back. The ripples of his abs brush against me through the fabric of his mesh-shirt, warming my sun-kissed skin under the light heat of the partially cloudy sky. His hand tucks under my chin when I face him for the next lyric, "You’re my VIP."

(She talkin’ about)

We sync up again for the next part of the choreography, making me giggle in delight, beaming over the fact that I might have cried a hundred times practicing this choreo but I can finally say that I can dance it without breaking my ankles. And the proud smile on Jongin’s face adds onto that fact.

He points out to the crowd and we change positions as the pre chorus starts again. Jongin acts like the cool, smooth man that he is while I roll my way back to him, matching his moves before blowing a kiss to the crowd when the chorus kicks back in again.

Top down ya

It could be you and me, it could be you and me

I place my hand on Jongin’s shoulder, strutting around him while he shrugs off his jacket. Preparing for the bridge that we changed last minute. Now it’s his time to shine.

Now let me give you what you want tonight

You told me

I take a step back, focusing on complimenting his movements while he has his moment to woo the crowd. Those charming smirks and attractive smiles can steal the heart of anyone, especially the cheering people standing in the front row. There’s a lot of things I’ve learned recently about Jongin, and his unmistakable stage presence is one of them.

The chorus comes back one final time and we go all out. Dancing until our feet ache and the wind picks up around us. The sweet smell of tteokbokki and summer breeze in the air brings another smile to my face. Jongin gets down on the floor while I kneel on one knee to straddle his lap, looking into his eyes with his finger tucked under my chin as the last lyrics of the song fades away.

There’s a long moment of silence, and then the crowd erupts into cheers. Applauding so loud it overwhelms my sensitive ears. Jongin and I step forward to take one last bow, smiling at each other before making our way off stage… but a certain, persistent stare has my eyes flickering back to the crowd. The glimmer of silver hair in the front row is all I allow myself to see before hurrying to leave.

"That was," I start, gasping for breath by the time we reach the dressing room. "Fucking amazing!"

Jongin smiles, glancing over at me, "You liked it, huh?"

"Dude—I fucking lived for it!"

He laughs and it’s super cute, especially with his wide smile.

"That was so cool," I sigh, flopping down onto the couch.

Jongin raises a brow, a smile still on his plump lips. "Would you do it again?-"

"Hell no!" I squeak. "Well… Not unless it’s with you." His eyes dance under the painfully bright lights. "Stop smirking, I take it back."

"Don’t worry." He chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans back against the vanity table. "You’ll be the first one I call next time too."

We’re called back up onto the stage before I can reply, but the smile I beam his way speaks volumes. However, nerves are plaguing my mind this time around. There’s no mistaking the silver hair that I saw in the crowd.

Just as I thought, when we are standing next to the other contestants, there he is. Front and center. I close my eyes with a deep sigh. What the fuck, man? Why are you everywhere?! Can I catch a break from him please? Please?!

Tension builds in my body, but then something cracks.

You know what—

I clench my fists. Fuck him. It doesn’t matter if he’s here or not; he’s no longer a part of my life. Why should I care?

My eyes don’t stray far from the judge and Jongin, even with the constant itch of Baekhyun’s stare. Take a picture, it’ll last longer, asshole.

The minutes seem to drag on as the judge gives his big speech, listing the criterias and rubric for calculating the winner. A whole lot of gibberish that I have no interest in listening to; I hope Jongin is paying attention. The knowing look he gives me when we briefly make eye contact confirms it. Yep, I smile sheepishly. Sorry.

That damn ticklish sensation on my skin still hasn’t moved while the couple in 3rd place steps forward to receive their reward. I swear to the heavens, Byun Baekhyun—

Snapping my neck around, I glare right at him despite my heart dropping at the sight.

He stands in the front row, sticking out like a sore thumb from the rest of the crowd in his black hoodie and dark jeans. The only thing that makes him pop is his ever-silver hair… and the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

My heart races. Are those—

"And the winner is: Jongin and Riley!"

The crowd roars in excitement, everyone standing up to applaud us as the judge hands Jongin the trophy and a helper places a ribbon around my shoulders. I can’t help but beam at Jongin, both of us smiling wide enough for our mouths to hurt later, but I don’t worry about that now. This is our moment. I throw my arms around him, laughing loudly when he sets down the trophy to spin me around in the air.

"We did it!" I wrap my arm carefully around his neck, pumping my fist in the air.

Jongin sets me back down, keeping his arms loosely around my waist. "You," He plants a kiss on the top of my head, "did it."

I can’t erase the smile on my face or the glee in my heart even if I tried. My eyes glance back out at the crowd while he goes around congratulating the other contestants, immediately locking onto those soul-sucking, puppy brown eyes. Half a year later and his eyes never fail to make me feel nothing and everything all at once. But I won’t let that define me: I’m not Baekhyun’s woman anymore.

Spectators in the crowd around him are buzzing with energy, dancing to the outro music they are playing overhead while he continues to stand stock-still, his brown eyes focused on me.

My mind drifts for a second, imagining what it would have been like to be standing up on this stage with him, winning the competition with him by my side. I acknowledge it, let my mind have its little reminiscing moment—and then nip it right in the bud.

I don’t want to live a life of 'What ifs?’ anymore—I want to experience those 'Why nots?’ instead.

I sense Jongin before he steps closer, his chest brushing against the back of my arm. "Are you ready to go?" He asks, his lips grazing my ear.

I continue to lock eyes with Baekhyun, laughing inwardly at the unreadable expression on his face and the lack of a sparkle in his eyes. And when that tall raven from months ago runs to pull him into a hug, my gaze doesn’t waver from his in the slightest. "Yes." I turn my back on him and rest my hand on Jongin’s bicep with a swirl of my hips, peeking at him from under my eyelashes.

He smiles down at me, understanding dawning in his eyes. We link our arms together while walking backstage and out of the stadium.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) | Part 6 P(1) P(2) —– P(3) P(4) —– P(5) P(6) ✓ ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1) P(2)

A/N: Team Jongin or Team Baekhyun? After that dance practice scene, my heart is stuck somewhere in between 💔

Hiya! Long time no see (^-^)

I don't have much to say ahh (>.<) my brain is fried. The emotions in this chapter came from a week of sleepless nights and a marathon of Doja Cat's Planet Her <3 I still got 10 scenes to finish up before Six Phases will be completed. This isn't the end! Just the best cliffhanger I could do with a 100+ page doc (thanks to my nearsightedness. font-size 16 is a lifesaver)

I might suddenly drop the Finale out of nowhere :'D everything depends on Riley~

Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story!! 🥺🥰🌸💗 Writing this baby (haha) is my favorite thing to do and to share it with all of you means the world to me <333 Alright, I'll stop being mushy. Have a great weekend, lovelies! See you as soon as the Finale is done~

Happy two years of Un Village & city lights!!

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Thank you endless Baekhyunee for inspiring me. I wouldn't be here without you ❤️

#baekhyun angst #baekhyun romance #baekhyun fanfiction #bbh-net #baekhyun #Team J or Team B?#Six Phases

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years ago

Text

The Arrangement Ch 17

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi

Chapter Summary: Part one of the photoshoot

Previous Chapter here

The work week proceeded as normal. Well, what had become normal. Delivering coffee and reminding Yoongi to eat, answering emails, trying to figure out which meetings Yoongi actually needed to go to and which ones were a waste of time. Of course you always went to the meetings, and holy shit you couldn’t believe the topics couldn’t have been discussed via email. You were looking forward to this particular day because you got to go visit Hoseok in the style department and Jimin had decided he was tagging along “for funsies.”

Yoongi was supposed to go and get measured and try on clothes for his photoshoot. When you reminded him that morning he laughed at you, “Uh no. Hoseok knows what size I wear. He can figure it out. Go look at the clothes and I might try some of them on tonight.”

You and Jimin met up for lunch and then headed up to the styling department.

“I’m excited. I’ve never been to a photoshoot before.” You said bouncing up and down in the elevator.

“Yeah, they’re pretty boring actually. Like if it’s with some of the hotter models it’s a little fun for the eye candy, but then you feel bad for them because they have to sit for so long making awkward faces. They are constantly getting their make-up and hair touched up. Touch base with craft services to make sure there’s plenty of water. The lights are bright.”

You took out your phone, “Oh thanks. I wouldn’t have even thought about that. Any other tips?”

“It’s Yoongi. It won’t take as long as it does with the other people. He’ll show up, do it, and leave. JK and Tae, especially Tae, want to chat with everyone on set and if they are together it takes foreeeeevvvveeeeeerrrrr.”

“Huh, ok. Thanks.” The two of you arrived at JHOPE Fashion and walked through the rainbow vomit doors.

Hoseok was wearing glasses with yellow lenses today, which made his dramatic facial expressions stand out even more. He immediately rolled his eyes. He pointed to you. “You are not Yoongi.” He pointed to Jimin. “And you are not Yoongi.” He put his hands on his hips. “So why are the two of you here?”

“I’m sure you can guess why.” You responded dryly.

“Ugh. That ungrateful man. I had lovingly hand stitched these pieces. For him. These patches...” Hoseok pressed his fingers together as though he was praying. “Fine. Fine. You. Y/N. Come. You. Jimin. Wait right there.”

Jimin’s eyes went wide. “Me? Why do I have to wait here?”

Hoseok turned from where he had started to walk towards the back. “You will thank me in a minute. A certain someone is coming to get his fitting in a few minutes.” He raised an eyebrow and then turned around, his heels clacking against the red tile floor.

Jimin started to blush profusely and before you could ask, Hobi interrupted, “Come new girl. We have work to do especially if that boss of yours refuses to come here and experience these magnificent beauties for himself.”

You followed him through the large door, which led to lime green hallways and then to a quiet, more muted workspace. The walls were lined with fabric bolsters, the middle tables with ribbon, thread, patches, paint. Paint?

Hoseok sat down. “From what I understand, this album will have an acoustic feel to it versus his previous albums. For that reason I have chosen these natural materials such as cotton, linen, and denim.” He spread out several pieces onto the large table. “I have also opted for a more neutral pallet, as much as it hurts my soul. I have chosen colors found in nature. I have chosen brightly colored accessories such as these silks to stand in contrast with the stiff fabric and more neutral colors he will be wearing. Additionally, I avoided black. We’ll see if he notices.”

You watched as he draped the red and purple silks over the top of the clothes. For whatever reason, you found it mesmerizing watching the fabric juxtapositioned in such a way. “It’s so cool to hear you tell a story just using clothes.” You said, somewhat enchanted.

Hoseok flicked his eyes up to you, “Thank you. That is what I try to do with my collections. Everyone’s outfit tells a story, even if they don’t mean for it to. May I?” He asked, stepping back and gesturing at you.

“Oh man. You know I don’t dresses fancy--”

“Shhhh you don’t tell me.” He looked at your outfit. You had opted for an Aline skirt and blouse with a casual blazer. “You had meetings this morning, that’s obvious by the jacket. You usually dress cuter. Which means you are either sick or not feeling great. You look fine. So I’m guessing...you are on your period. Sorry, this just comes out, I can’t stop it,” he paused for a moment as your jaw dropped open slightly. He stepped closer, inspecting the shoulders of your jacket. “The blazer is at least ten years old but you shouldn’t have had a blazer ten years ago unless it was for your school uniform and that isn’t a school jacket. Which means it probably belonged to an older sister or aunt. You are very responsible and well organized otherwise you wouldn't be Yoongi’s assistant. Therefore you are most likely the oldest or only child so that is your aunt’s jacket. Your blouse is nice. You actually like it, you’ve worn it twice in the week you’ve been working here. You bought it at a thrift store. You don’t spend a lot of money on yourself, but you are very confident. Therefore, it’s not that you don’t think you deserve nice things, it’s just that you can’t afford them so you likely grew up poor and it has continued into your adulthood.”

“Holy shit. You should be a detective.” You said to him.

“The shoes, I gave you last week. They don’t have a story yet, other than a very good -looking man in a suit helped you out because Jimin said you were a nice girl. You wear zero accessories which shows a lack of both funds and sentimentality. Most people have at least one piece of jewelry that means something to them, but if you have one, you don’t wear it.” He smiled at you, his white teeth gleaming. “ Now, how much am I right about?” He crossed his hands in front of his chest.

You clapped your hands as though you were in an audience. “All of it. Although I am still weirded out that you know I’m on my period. Next time I’m going to wear something skin tight to throw you off.” You joked.

“Well,” he started, “At least now that you work here you don’t have to worry as much right?”

Given the shitshow you went through this weekend you weren’t sure about that, but you shrugged, “It definitely pays better. And money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure helps make some things less hard.” You gestured to the pile of fabric on the table, “So...what do I do? Take these clothes with me for Yoongi to try on or will they be at the photoshoot tomorrow? Do I need to bring them to the photoshoot?”

Hoseok sighed dramatically, “I could dress Yoongi drunk, in my sleep. He can just show up tomorrow and I will dress him then. My staff will make sure the clothes and accessories are at the photoshoot. Here,” He walked over to one of the garment racks. “More clothes for you. I know you have a big closet. And if you run out of space, just take Yoongi’s, he only wears like three things despite my best efforts.”

You laughed, “Yeah, you’re not kidding. Ok thanks,” You took the clothing. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble. Feel free to see yourself out, I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and please make sure the catering has strawberries.”

“Strawberries? Got it.” You were learning so much today.

You exited the backroom and saw Jimin over near one of the pedestals. He was chatting with JK who was getting fitted with a corset. What an itty bitty waist, you admired. The two of them seemed to be having a good time and you had a new list of things to do so you waved at Jimin and headed to 1802 to drop off your new clothes. You had forgotten Hoseok knew you lived with Yoongi. The week had flown by.

You sent a text message to Jiwoo asking if you could stop by her desk and ask her a few questions to make sure everything was set up for tomorrow and then stopped by the apartment.

You conferred with her and learned how to navigate catering requests via the company website; apparently it wasn’t available on the app, good to know. you felt much better about the shoot tomorrow but still nervous and excited.

You knocked on the door to Genius Lab. No answer. Never any answer. You typed the code in and saw Yoongi wearing his headphones, lost in his own world. He had told you to just wait on the sofa when this was the case and that he would eventually notice you. Normally the smell of coffee was what alerted him to your presence, but you had come empty handed today. You sat down on the couch and took out your phone.

YN: I don’t mean to alarm you. But there’s something behind you.

You saw his phone light up. He ignored it for a minute, presumably to finish listening to a song, and then picked it up. You heard him laugh and take off his headphones. “You are the worst.” He spun around.

“So mean. Hey. Tomorrow is my first photoshoot. I checked on the outfits for you. By the way, Hoseok is like Sherlock Holmes with clothing. I learned I’m supposed to contact catering, I have hair and make-up requests in. Do I need to do anything else?”

Yoongi thought for a minute. He never really participated in that side of the photoshoot, now that he reflected on it. He walked his way through a day on set. “No. The changing rooms and photography are handled by other departments. Check with Jiwoo or Jimin, they’ve both set up a shoot before.”

“I did. I’m getting ready to send in the last food request. Any requests?”

“Mandarins. I don’t like to eat a lot on set because I don’t want stuff getting stuck in my teeth.”

“That makes sense. Ok. I’ll let you get back to it then.” You got up and stretched.

“Tomorrow will go fine. If you forgot anything, it will be somewhere in this building.” He reassured you.

“That makes me feel a lot better.” You said honestly. “Alright, I’ll see you around.”

“Later.”

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

The next day arrived with Yoongi heading off to the hair and make-up department and you heading to the 11th floor to see what the photo set up looked like. You exited the elevator. Man your hands were sweaty, you followed the sounds of voices and made your way to the shooting location. The lighting crew was checking their overheads, a stand-in was posing on the various props they had set out. It looked as though there were three separate “areas” for shooting photos. One area had a large white couch, complete with coffee table, rubber plant, magazines. The whole set up designed to look like a living room. A second space was a blue sheet with a white background. The third space was a kitchen, complete with an island, stovetop, and refrigerator. Holy moly this space was huge. You marveled at it.

“Hello, can I help you?” An older man walked over.

“Oh hi, I’m YLN. Yoongi’s assistant. I was stopping by to check the set up. It looks incredible.”

“Thank you. Yes. Here, let me walk you through it.”

You received a tour of the set and also an overview of the order of shooting. You also found out that next week, weather permitting, there would be a second shooting at the park across the street. You got catering checked in, or at least pointed to the table and felt like you did a thing. The same happened when the clothing team showed up. You pointed to dressing rooms and the vanity where the accessories trunk should go. You were thankful no one had asked you any questions so far. This was a steep learning curve. You had hoped someone you knew might be here today to help ease your nerves, but so far, it was all new faces.

Finally, you saw one familiar face. Alice walked in, carrying a small case with her. You waved.

“Hey! It’s nice to see you again.” She said. “I had no idea you were Yoongi’s assistant until today.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I didn’t mention that. I was so overwhelmed that first day,” you smiled.

“No worries. He was just telling me and Bongcha that he had an assistant now. He’s almost done. His make-up is setting. I’m on hair today which isn’t my strong suit, but it’s not like he’s needing a fancy up-do or anything and it’s good for me to practice.”

“Ok great. This is my first time at a photoshoot, so if there’s something I’m supposed to be doing but I’m not, can you let me know?” You confided in her.

“Absolutely. It looks like most of the stuff is set up how it usually is. Just remember,” she got closer to you and spoke quieter, “You are Yoongi’s assistant. Some of these people, especially these older guys will try to get you to do stuff like get their coffee, grab them snacks. That is not your job. It’s not by job. If they have an assistant, it’s their job.”

“I knew I liked you when we first met,” you smiled at her. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Anytime Unnie.”

She walked over and took out her hair tools and placed them on the table reserved for hair and make-up. A few minutes later you saw Yoongi walk in wearing a black shirt and grey sweats. His face looked even more beautiful than normal. Next to him was a petite girl with long black hair pulled up into a ponytail, dragging a make-up train behind her. Yoongi looked around for a second, and then locked eyes with you. You saw the tiniest smile threaten to come out as he walked over.

“Hey. Everything here looks good.” He gestured to the room.

“Thanks. I didn’t do most of it, I just pointed and people seemed to know what to do already. Your face looks good.”

Yoongi chuckled, “You can thank Bongcha for that. Bongcha, this is YN.”

Bongcha stuck out her hand, “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you as well. You do good work. I give his face a 10/10. Highly recommend.”

“Well, it’s easy when you have such a great model to start with,” She smiled while looking up at Yoongi.

Yoongi had started to blush between the pair of compliments. “Is Hoseok here yet?”

“No not yet.” You took out your phone to see if you had any messages from Hoseok. Nope. You looked back up, “Bongcha, I’m sure you already know, but the make-up table is over there. Alice is setting up right now.”

“Great, thanks!” She headed over, her shiny hair swishing behind her.

Speak of the devil in blue himself, Hoseok strutted in at that exact moment wearing an electric blue suit. His crisp white shirt underneath popped beneath the jacket, and his pocket square had little sunshines on it.

“Wow. You look like the sky.” You said before you could help it.

“Thank you. Indeed. It was my inspiration today. It’s a crime to be indoors beneath these artificial lights on such a beautiful day. Oh well. It can’t be helped.” He laid eyes on Yoongi, like a predator gazing on its prey, “Yoongi. Baby. Come.”

Yoongi scrunched his face. “Don’t call me baby. If you miss the sunlight so much, leave. I know how to dress myself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don't know which pieces go together.” Hoseok grabbed Yoongi by the shoulders and started leading him over to the clothing section, leaving you to laugh at the pair of them. You went over to the table you had set up for yourself between make-up and the food. You had printed off several lists that morning to help you stay focused. You checked off several action items. Satisfied, you sat your clipboard down and looked around. It was a well-oiled machine for sure. You walked over to the hair and make-up table. “Hey ladies.”

“Hey! Have you two met yet?” Alice asked, referring to Bongcha.

“Yep, we just did.” Bongcha confirmed, putting on her make-up apron and filling it with various powders and brushes.

“Ooooo we should do a make-up party sometime.” Alice squealed. “We try to do it with all the new girls. And since Yoongi is” she hushed her voice again “One of our favorites. We have to take care of his assistant.”

You smiled, “Sure. That sounds nice. Excuse me.” You decided to go see how the clothes were going.

“Yes. Yoongi’s assistant. So glad you’re here.” Hoseok turned to you.

“She has a name, it’s YN.” You heard Yoongi say from behind the curtain.

“Yes yes. I know. We talked yesterday, remember? At that meeting I scheduled for me and you that you did not come to. Anyways, here. The outfits are now coordinated. They have tags on them corresponding to their accessory in the accessory trunk. Some pieces have more than one option that the Director of Photography and Yoongi will decide on. Got it?”

You looked over the set up. It seemed simple enough since Hoseok had organized it so well .”Yep. You going out to enjoy the sunshine?”

“Honey, I am the sunshine. I’m off to get laid after having to deal with this cloudy baby.” He gestured to the changing room.

“Don’t call me baby.” Yoongi shouted from behind the curtain. You just laughed as Hoseok turned around and left. You waited for a few minutes.

“You ok in there? Need me to come help you put your pants on?” You teased.

“Not necessary.” Yoongi slid open the curtain. Why was everyone teasing him today? He pouted without thinking about it.

You walked over, straightening the collar of his shirt “Hey now, you can’t go around pouting like a baby and not expect people to call you one. Here,” you handed him a mandarin. He scowled at you as he took it. “Such a pretty face” You laughed.

“Yeah whatever. I can eat this while they set up the white meter. You should be fine to just hang around at this point.”

“Alright. Sounds good.” The two of you walked over to the main part of the set where the Director gave Yoongi instructions about where to sit as they practiced the blocking and softbox placement.

“Oh my god he looks so good eating that tangerine.” You overheard. Your eyes bugged out slightly and you turned around. A group of women from the photography team were looking at the images to check the saturation and focus, as well as apparently the model. Damn. NEXT CHAPTER

@lidda @anpanman-sonyeondan @firefairy1 @cuteipat @sugaslittlekookies @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny @livelyjay @niniita-ah @bobbyboops @honeysunandsoil @deathkat657

#BTS suga #bts writing #bts fic #suga x you #suga x reader #yoongi scenarios #bts yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #suga x y/n #bts suga x reader #bts suga x you

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hookedonapirate · 4 years ago

Text

Through the Rising Tide

Thank you so much for the beautiful graphic @itsfabianadocarmo! See this other beautiful, heartbreaking graphic by @wefoundloveunderthelight here. Thanks so much! Summary: The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son. Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past. The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type. Oh, and apparently their taste in women. Or rather, one woman. Feisty. Blonde. Gorgeous. Green-eyed Goddess. Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse… Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident. Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart. Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces. Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby. Notes: Okay, so I've been debating with myself about what happens in this chapter since I started writing this story, because I didn't want Killian to seem like an asshole and like he's just trying to get out of the situation. After doing some research, I think this solution is the best route to take to accomplish that. So please don't come after me lol.

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for looking it over! This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take. The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this: "I hope you know through the rising tide That I'll be here and you can lay by my side" If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFJbLzEtoZw P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture above and are wondering what it says: "There is no happiness without tears No life without death And no true love without heartbreak" Rated: Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs). Also available on: AO3 FF.N Catch up: Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 // Ch 9

Chapter 10

“I’m pregnant.”

Emma’s heart drops into her stomach when she hears the two words that seem to shatter her soul. She knows all too well that two simple words can change a life forever. The most traumatizing moments in her life started with two words.

I’m sorry.

You’re fired.

We’re over.

I cheated.

Marry me.

Liam’s dead.

And now, I’m pregnant.

She knows she has no right to be upset, or hurt, even; she keeps telling herself Killian’s not hers, but a huge part of her wishes he were never with this dreadful woman. And it has nothing to do with jealousy. She just thinks Killian deserves much better than this bitch. Emma may not have always felt this way about him, but she can honestly say he’s not the same man she met a year and a half ago.

“Um…” Killian scratches behind his ear, not exactly sure what to say to Milah. “Congratulations?”

Emma has the urge to laugh but suppresses it. This isn’t something to joke about. It’s certainly not something Milah finds the least bit humorous. Which is understandable.

She’s carrying his baby.

Kilian’s going to be a father.

No, Killian is a father.

The thought makes Emma feel numb inside.

Milah’s jaw is on the floor as she gapes at Killian and plants her hands on her hips. “Congratulations? That’s all you have to say?”

Killian looks at Emma in sheer puzzlement. But she doesn’t know exactly how to feel, other than disappointment and devastation, so she just looks at him in shock. He reverts his attention to Milah and shrugs. “What do you want me to say?”

Milah drops her hands to her sides and sighs dramatically. “Oh, I don’t know. What every father-to-be would say. Like for starters, maybe that you’re ecstatic or that this is the happiest day of your life.”

He furrows his brows, the lines on his forehead deepening. “Why would it be the happiest day of my life?”

It takes everything inside Emma to not give in to the tickle in her throat and dissolve into laughter.

Milah’s eyes almost pop out of her head. “You’re joking, right?”

He doesn’t even crack a smile. “Why would I be joking?”

Growing impatient, she sighs again and rolls her eyes. “Look, I don’t have time for games. I’m tired and cranky and hormonal and I don’t need smart-ass Jones right now. I need to know you’re in this.” She looks at Emma, flashing a deadly scowl and adds, “Just you and me and our baby.”

Killian freezes, his confusion quickly transforming into something else, his face paling and his mouth falling open in shock.

Does he not think the baby is his?

“Wait, what do you mean, our baby?”

Milah laughs hysterically, like Killian just told her the funniest thing in the world. “Wow, I hope you’re just playing dumb because I really don’t have the patience for this right now.”

“But that’s not possible,” he says, his words cracked as he scratches behind his ear. “I...I used protection.”

Milah becomes serious again, her eyes narrowing. “Wait, you’re not messing with me, are you?” She places her hand on her belly. “You really don’t think this is our baby?”

“No, I don’t,” Killian answers matter-of-factly. “I used a condom,” he says again.

Milah raises her voice, throwing the very last shred of patience out the window. “Are you an idiot?! Condoms aren’t one hundred percent effective!”

“I know that,” he says through gritted teeth. “But I checked for leakage after I pulled out.”

“Okay,” Emma squeaks, her voice higher pitched than intended. She feels very awkward listening to this conversation. “Maybe I should just go to my room so you two can talk.” They clearly have some things to discuss.

“That’s a fantastic idea,” Milah remarks in a cynical tone as she glares at Killian.

“And maybe you should put some pants on. This is definitely a pants-on conversation,” Emma laughs.

His cheeks and ears redden as he grabs her hand. “True, but you don’t have to go,” he murmurs.

A slight smile curves across her lips, her heart fluttering as she gives him a small squeeze.

“What the actual fuck, Killian? Why are you doing this?” Milah demands, staring at their joined hands.

His brows furrow in confusion as he releases Emma’s hand. “Doing what?”

“Acting like you’re not the father and then looking at another woman like you look at Emma?”

Emma’s heart skips at Milah’s comment. And she’s right; he looks at her like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. She feels special under his gaze. Desirable, even. And that’s saying something, considering she’s five months pregnant and has never felt so unattractive or fat in her whole goddamn life. Except when Killian looks at her, of course.

“I’m the mother of your child, yet you don’t seem excited or happy, and instead you’re arguing with me about a stupid condom!”

“Milah, I’m telling you, that baby’s not mine.”

“As much as I hate to admit this, but Milah’s right—contraceptives aren’t always effective,” Emma points out, thinking back to when she and Liam were together. “I took birth control religiously until Liam died and I still got knocked up.”

“Okay, but how do you know for sure?” Killian challenges Milah. “Were you with anyone else before or after we…”

“Of course not!” she replies defensively.

But Emma can tell she’s lying because Milah’s looking away and running her hand through her hair like she’s nervous.

“Okay, when was your conception date?”

Milah scratches her head. “Um...November...November nineteenth,” she stammers, obviously trying to remember what day she was with Killian, rather than reiterating what date her doctor would’ve told her based on her menstrual cycle. But the nineteenth was not when she was with Killian, and Emma knows this because the day Milah was with Killian was two days later—the same day Liam died. But again, it could be Milah’s estimated date of conception. Unless she’s lying completely to make Killian think he’s the father. “Look, Killian, I know we both said we weren’t looking for a relationship, but…” She reaches out, taking Killian’s hand in hers. “We can do this. I know we can. You don’t have to be scared.”

He pulls his hand away, his face hard as he stares at her. “Milah, why do you think this baby is mine?”

She furrows her brows in confusion. “What reason would I have for lying to you?”

“Because, perhaps the baby is Gold’s, and you don’t want him to be a part of your life or the baby’s...and you don’t want to do this alone. So pretending I’m the father might seem like the perfect solution.”

“I’m not pretending, Killian. You are the father! So stop trying to excuse yourself from doing the responsible thing and accept your fatherly duties!”

“It’s not an excuse,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “I’ve promised Emma I would help raise her baby. The baby’s not even mine and I’ve accepted the responsibilities of raising my niece or nephew.”

“Yet you can’t accept the responsibility of raising your own child! This is absurd! You’re abandoning your own family for another child who’s not even yours!”

“Milah, do you really think I would turn my back if there was even the slightest chance that baby was mine? If I were the father, I’d accept my responsibilities. I’d take you to the doctor’s appointments and I’d share custody and help out financially, but I’m not the father. And you and I aren’t a family.”

Milah screams in frustration. “If you think you can get out of this by simply paying child support, you’re dead wrong!”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’d be in the child’s life if I were the father.”

“If? I just said you are the father, Killian.”

He plants his hands on his hips and sighs. “Okay, if you’re so sure, then you should have no problem with a paternity test when the baby is born.”

This seems to make Milah even angrier. “If that’s what it takes for you to want to be a father, then fine! And when it turns out you’re the father, you’re going to feel like shit for wanting to abandon your own child!”

Emma can see Killian clenching his jaw as he glares at Milah.

“And you’ll feel like shit for trying to guilt a man into taking over the responsibility of someone else’s child when it turns out I’m not the father.”

Milah huffs and shoots daggers at Emma. “You should be ashamed of yourself for stealing a father away from his own child and the mother of the child.”

Emma can actually see the anger swarming through Killian, his eyes darkening.

“Emma’s not making me do anything. She lives here, and I want her here. She’s the mother of my dead brother’s baby. My niece or nephew. And I would never turn my back on them. So, you can either accept that or don’t, because I don’t really give a fuck. Now please get the fuck out and don’t show up here unannounced ever again.”

Milah is enraged but doesn’t argue and instead spins around on her heels and dashes out the door. “This isn’t over Killian Jones! You won’t be able to deny your child forever!”

Killian responds by flinging the door behind her, letting it slam shut with a loud thud.

~*~

He’s not sure he’s ever been so pissed in his life. He can’t believe Milah just showed up expecting him to fall to his knees and pretend like they were going to be a happy family. Even if he weren’t already committed to Emma and her baby, he wouldn’t just simply bend to Milah’s will. He kind of feels like an arsehole for flat-out denying the child is his, though. Situations like this are exactly why he had the procedure. It’s also why he uses condoms. But Milah is relentless. He could’ve easily told her it’s impossible for her to have his child, but if, by some minuscule chance, he is the father, he’ll feel like an arsehole. Plus, she probably wouldn’t believe him if he told her, anyway. He just hopes Milah doesn’t try to screw up what he has with Emma.

He can tell Emma’s not too happy about it all because as soon as Milah left, Emma went to the kitchen and started banging pots and pans around, not even saying one word to him.

“Emma? You alright?” he asks in concern as he approaches her cautiously.

She’s aggressively chopping vegetables now, and he’s not sure it’s a good idea to be around an angry pregnant woman with a knife in her hand.

“Can we talk?”

She throws some celery in a bowl and starts chopping some carrots. “What’s there to talk about?” she finally says, still focused on her task.

“How about Milah showing up and announcing she’s pregnant. You’re obviously upset.”

“I’m not upset,” she claims, still not even bothering to look up at him. “You’re not mine, Killian. You’re free to do as you wish, be with who you wish. So what right do I have to be mad?”

He is hers, though. He has been since the moment he laid eyes on her a year and a half ago. If only he could tell her that. “Emma, please...just...can we talk about this?”

She finally stops chopping and sets down the knife with a heavy sigh, turning around to look at him. Her eyes are shining with tears, and it makes his heart crack. “Killian, I don’t want to be the reason you’re not in your child’s life. I don’t know if Liam ever told you, but David’s family adopted me when I was a baby. I never got to know my biological mother or father. And I don’t want your kid to grow up not knowing you because of me.”

“Emma…” His heart clenches at her words. Liam did tell him she was adopted, and that David and his parents always treated her like family. He steps up to her, cupping her cheeks in his hands. Her stunning green eyes meet his blue ones, taking his breath away. “Believe me when I tell you...I’m not the father.”

“But how can you be so sure? A man can get a woman pregnant if the condom breaks, Killian.”

“Aye, but a man can’t get a woman pregnant if he can’t give her his sperm. At least not the natural way.”

Emma jerks her head back, completely blindsided. “What do you mean?” She searches his face for a moment and answers her own question. “You had a vasectomy?”

He nods. “Aye. A couple years ago.”

She steps out of his space to process this, confusion written all over her face…and perhaps disappointment? “But...why...why do you use condoms then?”

“Because, like any birth control, it’s not one hundred percent effective. Plus, I don’t really like to tell people my personal business. I always take precautions even though I had the procedure done. And if I ever felt like the woman should know, like if I were in a relationship or planned to be in one, then of course I would tell them.”

“So, you can never have children? Like ever?”

“Actually, I can. But when and if I choose to. A vasectomy is reversible as long as I don’t wait too long after having the vasectomy. After ten years, a reversal is less likely to be effective.”

“How did I never know this?” she asks, still a little shocked.

He shrugs. “Didn’t think it was necessary to tell anyone. I never even told Liam because I knew he would try to talk me out of it. But I didn’t do it because I’m opposed to having kids, I did it so I didn’t accidentally get someone pregnant. Why change a woman’s life forever after one night of meaningless sex if I don’t have to?”

She snorts, tossing the carrots into a bowl. “Killian Jones is admitting to giving women a forgettable night in the sack and orgasms that aren’t life-changing? Wow, you really have changed,” she teases, peeling and chopping up an onion.

“Hey, I said meaningless, not forgettable.” He smirks and closes the distance between them again, his face only a few inches from hers when she pauses from her task and looks up at him. “Believe me, every orgasm I give is life changing.”

Her breath hitches, and she swallows hard, her eyes locked with his. The air is thick around them, and he can’t help but think about their kiss earlier. He’s still wearing a towel, so it’s probably easy for her to notice he has an erection right now.

He shakes away the thoughts and steps back so he can breathe again and clear his throat. “But life changing doesn’t have to mean giving someone a baby they didn’t ask for or putting them in a position where they have to decide whether to keep the baby. Why put that kind of burden on a woman when I don’t have to? Turns out I can be responsible when I want to be,” he chuckles.

She gives him a small smile. “So, do you want to have kids someday? With the right person, I mean?” she asks curiously.

He nods. “I hope to. The reversal is much more expensive and complicated than the vasectomy itself, but as long as it’s what we both want and after we both have successful examinations to make sure there are no fertility issues, then yes, I’ll have the procedure reversed. But I can promise you, Milah is not that person. I’ll still take the paternity test just to prove it to her, but I know that baby isn’t mine. I think she went back to her ex-husband and didn’t expect to get pregnant after one night.”

“Wow, she has some nerve trying to put the responsibility on you when you’re not even the father.”

“She probably doesn’t realize that, though. She probably actually does think I could be.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Please, she was lying. I could tell. She knows you’re not the father.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter, because I’m not.”

She arches a brow. “So, why not just tell her you got the vasectomy?”

He cups the back of his neck as he answers her question in the best way he possibly can. It’s not really a conversation he envisioned having with anyone when he had the procedure. He especially never planned on having this discussion with Emma. “She probably wouldn’t believe me if I told her and would probably think I’m just trying to free myself of any obligations or responsibilities. The only way to really prove I had a vasectomy is to have a semen analysis done. Which would show that there is no sperm present in my semen. Without sperm, I can’t get a woman pregnant. But I figure proving to her I’m not the biological father via a paternity test is the only way she’s going to accept it.”

Emma nods in understanding. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I guess I don’t blame her.”

Killian snaps his eyes to hers, surprised she would say that. He also wonders why she would say that.

“If it were me and I thought there was a chance you could be the father of my child instead of my asshole of an ex, I would do everything to prove it, too. Like if Neal had gotten me pregnant before we broke up and then I did end up sleeping with you that night instead of running into Liam, I’d want you to be the father, not him.”

Killian’s cheeks heat up as he flashes a smug grin. “So, you’re saying I’m good daddy material?”

She laughs and gently pats her belly. “Well, I hope so, seeing as we’re going to be raising this baby together.”

He smiles and swipes some stray hairs from her face. “That’s right. We’ll be like family.”

She places her hands on his chest, and he’s hoping she can’t feel his heart beating erratically under her palms. “We are family. Right?”

His heart flutters at her words, and a big smile overtakes his face. “Of course we are.” He stares at her, wanting so badly to grab and kiss her again.

And just when he thinks she might beat him to it, she breaks the trance, her eyes widening as she looks over his shoulder. She hurries to the stove, removing the pot before the water boils over. “Whew, that was a close one.” She sets the pot down and returns to the vegetables she chopped, carefully pouring them into the water. “So, what should I start calling you now? Big Daddy?”

He chuckles and comes up behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder and gently squeezing. “What should I call you? Baby Mama?”

“Oooh, that feels good,” she breathes, tipping her head back, her body melting under his touch.

He smirks and puts his other hand on her opposite shoulder, massaging her gently.

“You can call me whatever you want while you’re doing that.”

“Don’t give me any ideas, love.” This probably isn’t the best idea either but giving Emma even the smallest of pleasures has become his primary goal in life. He’d even reverse the vasectomy to give her a baby if that’s what she wanted. He’d happily do anything for this woman. Which is extremely dangerous. But he doesn’t care. As long as she and the little duckling are happy, that’s all he cares about. And not Milah, or anyone else can change that.

“Oh God, that feels incredible.” She’s making these noises that sound too much like moans as she practically goes limp in his hands.

Fuck.

This was definitely not a good idea.

Rubbing her shoulders and drawing out these wonderful, spine-tingling moans is making him unbearably hard. And if he keeps this up, he’s going to have to take another shower, only this time it’s going to be a long, hot shower and he’s going to pump himself furiously until he comes.

“Thank you, Killian. My shoulders and back have been killing me. Actually, my everything has been killing me,” she laughs.

“Of course, love.” He removes his hands and leans in to kiss her cheek. He wants to tell her he’d be glad to address everything else that’s sore, but he knows that’s a terrible idea. He’s afraid he’d start rubbing other parts of her, and he’s already crossed a line with her. Well, he’s crossed several lines with her already; he doesn’t need to add to the list.

When he backs away, he hadn’t realized how close he was to Emma; he’d been pressed up against her backside, so when he steps back, the towel slips off him and falls to the floor.

She turns around, her eyes falling to his manhood, her face flushing. She claps a hand over her mouth and laughs into her palm.

He quickly bends down to pick up the towel and cocks a brow at her as he secures the towel around his waist. “Love, laughing at a man with his pants down isn’t good for his ego,” he teases.

“I’m sorry, it’s just...every time I turn around your pants are down...literally.” She’s laughing so hard now, she’s almost in tears.

“Har har,” he says sarcastically, his cheeks fuming. “You know, one of these days a tit for tat will be in order.”

“Oh believe me, after I have this baby, I’m sure you’re gonna see a whole lot of my tits while I’m breastfeeding.”

“Well, in that case, you’re getting a lot more tat,” he says, throwing her a wink.

She laughs and rolls her eyes. “Go put some clothes on, Big Daddy.”

“Yes, Baby Mama.”

~*~

“So what was that all about, yesterday?” Mary Margaret asks curiously, sipping her soda through a straw. “You and Killian just go around kissing each other now?” she teases with a cheeky grin.

Emma laughs. “No. Killian asked for my help with Tina when he couldn’t get rid of her, so I pretended to be his fiancé.” She bites into her grilled cheese sandwich and sets it down, using her other hand to toy with the engagement ring hanging from her neck. She feels guilty for using the ring Liam gave her to lie to a stranger and tell her she’s marrying Killian.

“Awe, you’re such a good friend,” Ruby gushes with a big smile, taking a good-sized bite of her burger. “Now, let me ask the most important question,” she mumbles with food in her mouth, “why have you and Big Daddy not knocked boots yet?”

Emma’s cheeks flame as she buries her face in her hands. “God, I never should’ve mentioned that to you guys,” she grumbles into her palms.

“Mention what? The fact you saw his hot, naked dick twice or that you call him Big Daddy?” Ruby singsongs.

“Ugh, both.”

When Emma met Ruby and Mary Margaret here at Granny’s Diner for lunch, since Ruby has the afternoon off from the bar, she had originally planned on telling them about Milah, but surprise, surprise, they already knew. According to Mary Margaret, word on the street is Milah’s pregnant with Killian’s baby and he wants nothing to do with her.

Apparently, Milah made a snarky comment on the photo Mary Margaret posted yesterday. Emma told them half of the rumor was true, but she didn’t tell them Killian had a vasectomy, only that he’s going to take a paternity test. Ruby and Mary Margaret were only surprised this is the first time one of his many conquests got impregnated, or at least came forward about it. Emma refrained from responding to that. Killian’s secret is not hers to tell.

Ruby suggested he and Milah bring it to Maury, but only because she desperately wants to see the look on Milah’s face when she finds out Killian’s not the father. Because they all know it’s very much possible she went back to her husband, even for just a postmarital hookup.

After filling them in on more details about the confrontation with Milah last night, Emma made the mistake of launching into how the rest of the evening went, including how she and Killian gave each other nicknames and how his towel fell to the floor. She didn’t dare mention the hot and heavy kiss that took place in the kitchen before Milah showed up, though. Emma knows she would never hear the end of it if she had mentioned it.

“Would you stop denying you’re head over heels for Big Daddy, already? Do you know how many women would kill to be in your position right now?” Ruby dips a fry in ketchup and shakes her head in disapproval, almost personally offended by Emma’s denial of having any feelings for him. “In fact, women have actually tried murdering each other over that man.” She shoves the fry into her mouth and then licks the ketchup off her fingers as she chews.

Emma lifts her brows in intrigue as she picks up her sandwich again. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” She laughs and bites into her grilled cheese.

“Yeah, jealous bitches are ruthless. A couple years ago, when Killian worked at the bar, some woman was hitting on him when another woman he slept with the night before entered the bar. She witnessed the first woman’s hands all over him and actually marched up to the bar counter and pulled her off him. Then they had a screaming match right there in the middle of the bar, and the bitch who slept with him pulled out a knife and tried stabbing the other chick.”

Emma’s eyes blow wide. “Are you serious?”

Ruby nods. “Yep, I even captured the whole thing on camera and posted it on Facebook. The video went viral.”

“Okay, I have to watch this.” Emma sets her sandwich down and wipes her hands with a napkin as Ruby pulls out her phone, searching for the video. “Where was Liam at the time?”

“He was there, too. Here, you’ll see.” Ruby hands Emma the phone.

She plays the video, both amused and curious as she watches two women—a brunette and a redhead—screaming at each other and calling each other all kinds of colorful names.

The redhead shoved the brunette to the floor, causing other bar patrons to gasp. Completely enraged, the brunette stood up, pulled out the knife and started threatening the other woman with it.

“I will cut you, bitch!”

Emma can’t believe her eyes. It’s like something from the Jerry Springer show.

Cool and collected, Liam intervened, politely asking the brunette to put down the knife. As soon as she did, Liam had the bouncer escort them both out the door, and they were still screaming at each other as they left.

At that point, Emma’s only focused on Liam, who was watching them leave and shaking his head as he turned around and told Ruby to stop recording. Emma tears up from hearing his voice. That British accent and the way his voice always seemed to soothe her. He was so calm yet commanding in just about any situation—always had been.

Liam stepped up to the camera, planting one hand on his hip, pointing a finger at the screen with his other hand and giving Ruby a stern look. “Rubes, you better not post that on Facebook.”

Emma places a hand on her belly, a tear rolling down her cheek as she whispers to her unborn child, “That’s your daddy. Isn’t he handsome?” This happened before they met, but he was just as handsome as she remembers. And watching him makes her want to reach out and touch him. But the fact that she can't makes her heart clench painfully in her chest.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” Mary Margaret says to Emma in a soothing tone, pulling Emma’s attention from the video. “I’m so sorry you have to raise your baby without him.”

The screen flipped around, showing a closeup of Ruby grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, I definitely am,” she whispered to the camera.

Emma wipes away her tears as she hands the phone back to Ruby. “At least I have Killian. He’s been so great,” she admits with a sad smile, her vision blurred with more tears.

“I have to give props to Killian,” Ruby comments sincerely as she throws her phone back into her purse. “He has really stepped up to the plate since his brother died.”

“Yes,” Mary Margaret agrees. “Even David said so and that’s saying something coming from him.”

“I just have no idea how you and Killian keep your hands off each other.” Ruby shakes her head before taking a bite and washing it down with Coke.

Emma’s mouth falls open as she stares at Ruby incredulously. “I just lost Liam five months ago. And, in case you forgot, Killian is his brother.”

“Exactly!” Ruby says loudly, drawing the attention of other diners. “In case you forgot, his brother was his best friend. If there’s anyone he would’ve trusted the love of his life with, it’s Killian.”

Emma shakes her head. “No, I disagree. Liam would never have approved of me and Killian. Dead or alive.”

“Honey...” Mary Margaret reaches over the table and takes Emma’s hand in hers. “Liam would want you to be happy,” she says in a motherly tone.

“Well, yes, but so soon after his death? And with his brother?”

“Why not? He wouldn’t want you to be miserable. Especially since you’re pregnant. That kind of stress is not good for the baby.”

“I know, but I can’t just snap my fingers and make the pain disappear. I loved Liam and I don’t want to just move on and forget him.”

“You don’t have to, Emma. It is possible to love more than one person at a time. Loving someone else doesn’t have to change how you feel about Liam. Believe me, if something ever happened to me, I wouldn’t want David to be alone and miserable. I’d want him to find love again.” Mary Margaret tilts her head and purses her lips, considering her words. “I mean, I’d probably want him to mourn over my death for at least a year first, but after that, I’d want him to be with someone who could make him happy. He wouldn’t be as happy with someone else as he is with me, of course, but at least he’d be happy.”

Emma laughs at her sister-in-law and shakes her head. “Okay, but if you had a sister, would you be okay if David started seeing her after your death?”

“Well no, but what could I do? I’d be dead,” she says, taking a bite of her chicken sandwich.

“But what would other people think? This is a small town, and we all know people talk. I mean, everyone in Storybrooke already knows Milah’s pregnant and thinks Killian’s an asshole for abandoning a baby. Hell, people five towns over have probably heard by now.”

Ruby snort-laughs. “Sweetie, every woman in Storybrooke already thinks Killian’s an asshole. But screw what people think. This is your life and your child’s life. You have to do what’s right for you and that baby.”

“That’s right,” Mary Margaret nods. “Screw what everyone else thinks. You deserve to be happy again. You deserve to find love again and you deserve to give someone else love. All you have to do is allow yourself to love again.”

Emma offers a small smile and places her hand on her belly. “I do love someone else. I love this baby. And he or she is all I need right now.” As she says the words out loud, her heart squeezes painfully in her chest. She knows deep down that’s not entirely true. She has no idea what she’d do without Killian. As much as she hates to admit it, he’s helped her survive the past five months. They’ve helped each other survive. “Besides, even if I did fall for Killian, why would it matter? It’s not like he’d feel the same.”

Mary Margaret and Ruby exchange a glance and then look back at her again.

“So, I hate to break this to you,” Mary Margaret begins delicately as she joins her hands on the table, “but that man is totally and completely in love with you.”

Emma laughs, taking a sip of her water, not believing one word that just came out of her sister-in-law’s mouth. “That’s a good one, M.M.”

“I’m serious, Emma. Do you not notice the way Killian looks at you? I bet you, he’s been in love with you this entire time.”

Emma chokes on her water and wipes her mouth, her eyes widening in disbelief. “What are you talking about? Killian hated me before Liam died.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what he wanted you to believe,” Ruby says. “Turns out men are much more complicated than us women think.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “What are you talking about? Why would he pretend to hate me?”

“Because you were his brother’s girlfriend. Then his fiancé. Killian may have been a lot of things—he was an asshole to many people—but he never would’ve stabbed his brother in the back. He never would’ve purposely hurt Liam like that. Why do you think he suddenly flipped a switch after Liam died? He wanted to be there for you, instead of putting you through hell like he used to. He wanted to take care of you and make sure you were okay. That would’ve been hard to do if he were still pretending to hate you.”

Emma blinks as she tries to process this. Could it be true? Has Killian loved her this entire time? But that’s absurd. “Wait, so you’re saying Killian was like that kid in kindergarten who pulled on my pigtails because he actually liked me?”

“Kind of, except he doesn’t just like you. He loves you. And he wasn’t pretending to hate you because he was shy. He was pretending because it was easier if you hated him, too.”

Emma ponders Ruby’s words, thinks back to all the times Killian was a dick to her and wonders if it were true. Did Killian do all those things because he actually loved her and didn’t want to hurt his brother? But why torture himself and stay at the apartment the three of them shared if he really loved her? Why put himself through that? “But how do you guys know this?”

Mary Margaret’s lips curve into a small smile. “Honey, do you remember when you first saw Killian at the bar? And when you went up to talk to him even though I highly suggested against it?”

“Yeah, I remember. So?”

“Soooo?” Ruby says, aghast. “Look, I’ve seen Killian gawk at and flirt with a lot of women who walked into that bar. And I mean A LOT. But when I saw you and Killian talking that night...I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at you. Do you remember when you came to visit Liam at the bar for the first time after you two finally told everyone you were seeing each other?”

Emma nods. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, you obviously didn’t notice because you were too distracted by Liam, but Killian was working that night.” Ruby blows out a breath and shakes her head. “Man, he looked at you like his dog just died.”

“Killian doesn’t have a dog,” Emma points out.

“Exactly. He wasn’t devastated by a dead dog, Emma. He was devastated because he knew you could never be his. Seeing you with his brother was probably a hard pill to swallow.”

Emma laughs and picks up an onion ring, dunking it in ranch. “He wasn't devastated. Believe me, I was the last thing on his mind. He met some woman at the bar and brought her home that night,” she says, taking a bite out of the onion ring. She could tell he was upset the morning he found out she was with his brother, but she had chalked up his reaction to disappointment. He was disappointed she couldn't be another notch on his bedpost. She'd hardly call that devastation. But that was the Killian she knew back then. Before she had grown to care for him. Before he'd grown to care for her.

Ruby’s eyes widen. “Um, yeah, to try and get over you. Or to distract himself.”

Emma shakes her head. “That’s ridiculous. He was not in love with me, nor is he.”

Is he?

Ruby shrugs. “Maybe, maybe not. But there’s only one way to find out for sure. You could ask him.”

“What difference would it make? Even if he is in love with me, I’m in no place to return those feelings.”

Ruby and Mary Margaret obviously don’t believe her, but they return to eating their food rather than trying to argue any further.

Emma knows they think she’s living in complete and utter denial, and maybe she is. But until she knows for sure the feelings she has for Killian are real and not just her pregnancy hormones speaking, and until she knows he won’t go back to his old ways of picking up a different chick every night, she’s sticking with her new vibrator for now.

@stahlop @wefoundloveunderthelight @citygirlscowboy @piratesbooty63fan @ultraluckycatnd @itsfabianadocarmo @resident-of-storybrooke @snowbellewells @onceuponaprincessworld @tiganasummertree @viajandosinalas@teamhook @captainswan-shipper88 @jamif @katielovesstarcrossedlovers @uhthreeyuh @lfh1226-linda @babyyouremyqueen @sthonour @julesep3026 @fairytalewhispersinmyheart @andiirivera @wefoundloveunderthelight @wickedsw4n @eleveneitherway @eherron14 @ouatpost @transparentclodsludgeweasel

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#cs ff #through the rising tide #my fic #captain swan

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passable-talent · 5 years ago

Note

SoftZukoSoftZukoSoftZuko Pleasseeeee I need fluff and aftercare (doesn't have to be nsfw but I want my teeth to rot from the sweetness)

Zuko had had a hard day. Being a seventeen year old Fire Lord will do that. Sometimes when life got hard on him, he went to his uncle.

But Iroh wasn’t always home.

He was so young, and your relationship so new, that he hadn’t been quite ready to show so much vulnerability in front of you. But he knew he needed to talk to someone, or maybe cry in front of someone, and the person he was closest to trusting was you.

He trusted you, of course. He trusted you enough to share his bed with him, to share his time. He trusted you not to poison his food, and he trusted you to fix his hair when needed. But trusting you with the weights on his shoulders- that was something else.

You had been sitting in the gardens next to the duck pond. The sun was just about below the horizon, not that you could see it, but you could look at the red streaks wisping away into a dark blue night sky. The turtle ducks were long gone, and the peepers and badger frogs in the surrounding mountains were starting to sing their nighttime songs.

“Y/N?” Zuko asked, appearing at a doorway. You looked at him over your shoulder, and smiled. “Will you come to my room with me?” He had asked you such a thing before, obviously, and yet each time you reacted with just a little extra smile, a quick jump to your feet. You followed him to the fire lord’s bed chambers and when he paused at his dresser, taking a moment to let his hair fall, you waited for him.

“I just need to talk,” Zuko said, voice low, “and I need someone to listen.” Your head fell to the side, because you’d noticed the way he walked. There was a slump to his shoulders, a hang of his head, as though he were feeling defeated. And yet, there was a sharpness to his step, like his guard was still up. He must have something on his mind, it was obvious.

You stepped forward and placed your palm flat onto his back.

“You can tell me anything,” you promised, and you watched as he closed his eyes, absorbing your promise and deciding how much of his soul he was willing to bare. He took a deep sigh, and sat down on his bed.

“I’m frustrated,” he said with a hard exhale, “about the situation in Yu Dao.” You knew that he had been visiting Yu Dao a lot, but you didn’t really know what was going on there. It was a former colony, sure, but other than that you had no clue. You sat down beside him, slowly, taking his hand and setting it on your lap.

“It’s frustrating because I feel that what I’m doing is right. Breaking apart multi-generation families just doesn’t make sense, especially since after the war were supposed to be working on unity. It doesn’t matter what nation their grandparents came from, or at least I don’t think it should.” You nodded, following along, but didn’t offer any input. You weren’t educated on the issue and so felt you’d have nothing of importance to say.

“But Aang doesn’t see it that way. And neither does King Kuei. It feels wrong to be disagreeing with my allies, but they don’t understand.” The more he spoke, the quicker his words got, and though his tone couldn’t be described as ‘panicky’, it did seem that he was losing control of his emotions. “We can’t draw hard lines between nations anymore. I know that’s my fault, because it’s my nation’s fault, it’s my grandfather and father’s fault, but still, I have to protect these families-“

You turned to him and hugged him tightly, shocking him into silence for the time being. Slowly he defroze and hugged you back, tucking his face down and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“You’re making the right choice,” you told him, even though you may not have all the facts. “I trust you. The nation trusts you. You’re not your father, you’re doing what’s right for the world. If you think this is the right decision, then it is.” He nodded slowly against your shoulder, and you closed your eyes.

“I just feel like- I’m fighting with all my friends. And one of them is the avatar- if you’re facing the avatar, aren’t you on the wrong side?” You pulled away from Zuko, gently reaching up to brush some of hair from his forehead.

“Aang is the avatar, but he’s also just a teenager, just like you. Sometimes he may not see the whole picture. But he will, because he’s your friend.” Zuko looked down, and you leaned forward to gently press a kiss to his scar.

“You’re a good man. And a good leader. You know how to make choices that will help people.” You laid down onto the mattress, putting your head next to his lap so that you could watch his expression. “I trust you.”

“You trust me?” You let a smile come to your face as you looked up at him, a softness in your expression and your heart.

“Zuko, you are so good. I’d call you perfect, but that’s a lot of pressure to put on you. You felt the scourge of the fire nation but instead of letting it beat you into submission, you found your way in the world, and found who you were meant to be.” You reached up, tucking your first and second finger into his hair to pull down a few locks to play with.

“You helped the avatar win the war, at the cost of your own family. You grew stronger and braver than your forefathers have ever been.” You paused, letting your gaze settle on his scar.

“And you brought more light and happiness into this palace than I’ve ever seen. The staff trusts you not to banish or strike or burn them when they do something wrong. You’ve let these people laugh again.” You let your hand drop, as it was getting tired, but you grabbed his again on the way down and brought it to your face, rubbing his knuckles against your cheek.

“Even if you don’t think you are, you’re a great leader. You’re already greater than any Fire Lord in recent history. Now, that might not be saying much, but-“ Zuko let out a small laugh, and you caught his eye.

“But I think you’re going to be one of the best Fire Lords that our history has ever seen. Including Sozin’s ancestors.” Zuko lowered himself to the sheets, and made possibly the most ungraceful movement you’d ever seen from a member of the royal family to scoot downward until he laid beside you. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“I trust you too,” he said, and you wondered if he’d been stuck on that aspect of the conversation this whole time. “I know I can come to you. Rely on you. I just worry that that’s too much of a burden, being Fire Lord and all.” You chuckled a bit and turned sideways to him, your arm acting as a pillow for your head.

“No matter how much you spill to me, it won’t match the pressure of actually making speeches. Don’t worry about confiding in me.”

“But what if it does become too much?” He asked, his gaze still pointed to the ceiling as though he were afraid to look at you. You reached over and took hold of his jaw, turning his eyes to you.

“Then I’ll tell you. You trust me to be honest with you?” His eyes flicked around your face for a heartbeat before he nodded, and you leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips.

“I’m in love with you, Zuko. I am. I’ll give you any support you need.” Zuko’s eyes widened, even though he’d heard you say it before.

“I love you,” he said, voice soft and low as though he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

You didn’t, either. It was a promise made between the two of you, and no one else. No one else had the right to the bond you shared with him.

“Y/N?” He said softly, after a long moment of easy quiet.

“Hmm?” You asked, your voice rough in your throat. You were almost close to sleep, laying in his soft bed with him.

“I’m always going to be here for you.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean- just because I’m Fire Lord doesn’t mean I can’t help you, too. I love you. And I want you to trust me enough to share everything with me.” You rolled over further until you were laying half on his chest.

“Zuko, what is it with you and trust? Of course I trust you. Of course I’d come to you with anything.” His eyes slid from yours and so you brought your hands up to cup his face.

“Zuko,” you insisted, and his gaze returned to yours.

“I’ve betrayed everyone, at one time or another,” he admitted, and you took one hand from his face to lace with his fingers. “Uncle, and Katara, and Aang, and Toph. My nation. I’m so used to not being trusted. It’s only a matter of time until you feel the same way.” Briefly your heart broke for him and you leaned forward to kiss him again.

“Listen to me, Fire Lord Zuko,” you demanded, not letting him look away. “That’s no way to speak about the best thing that’s happened to the fire nation in a century. You have your reasons, and I trust that. But I know that you aren’t who you were when you made some of your bad choices.” You pressed your finger into his chest, right above his heart.

“Stop living in the past. You know who you are right now- a kind, understanding, trustworthy leader.” You laid your head down once he nodded in conceit, and murmured another point on your way. “Trustworthy boyfriend.” He let his hand come to rest on your back, letting out a slow breath.

“Thank you,” he said, and you squeezed his palm into yours.

“Don’t thank me for stating the truth.”

-🦌 Roe

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illneverrecover · 5 years ago

Text

Take Me to Church (M) | JJK

➛pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

➛genre: gang!AU, tattooed!Jungkook, smut, fluff.

➛word count: 5,114

➛rating: M

➛warnings: sub/switch Jungkook, power play, praise, body worship, face sitting, oral sex (both giving and receiving), dirty talk, profanity, mentions of weeb JK, unprotected sex, riding, slight cock warming mentions, JK is a soft sweet boy.

➛summary: You can always tell when something is bothering your boyfriend, despite how hard he tries to hide it - and you have creative ways to get him to talk.

➛notes: MY FIRST EVER COMMISSION! As soon as I mentioned opening commissions, my cherub friends jumped at the chance and sent in several requests, @quinnkoo being the first. She asked for sweet soft switchy tattooed Jungkook smut with some power play, and I immediately thought back to the Gang!AU drabble I wrote her last year, and decided to play off of that. It’s not necessary to read that one first, but it’ll give some more back story if you’re curious. Thank you so much, Quinny. I hope you enjoy 🖤

➛song: Church - Fall Out Boy & My Time - BTS

“Ugh! I’m sick of all this rambling. When’s Kakashi going to come back?” you sigh, head plopping onto your boyfriend's shoulder. You waited a few breaths for his teasing reply - he couldn’t help but to drag you after you revealed your favorite character and your totally normal crush on him - but when it didn’t come, your brow furrowed.

He had insisted on the marathon of his favorite anime, eyes lighting with childlike glee as he explained the premise, but he had been noticeably quiet the last few episodes.

Something was up.

A wayward glance at Jungkook told you that your suspicions were right; his wide rich amber eyes were facing the screen, but the light behind them was absent. He was chewing his bottom lip, large front teeth poking out every few seconds, the hand not wrapped around you rubbing at one of the tattoos on his forearm. All the telltale signs that something was Bothering Jeon Jungkook™.

It didn’t take long for you to know what was on his mind. Reading him had been something you excelled at since day one, his body an open book that you have delved so deep inside you knew him better than you knew yourself.

On the outside, Jungkook was the embodiment of the word ‘tough’, which would be fitting of a member of his stature. He was part of the well renowned gang Bangtan, something you had known since the first meeting, and he looked the part - typically dressed in all black, clothes baggy and yet somehow still flattering his lean muscles, ink decorating his arms and neck. A single hoop hung from his nose, messy dark hair hanging low in his eyes - and with one look, it had been over for you.

But that was only one facet to Jungkook.

On the inside, he was marshmallow, soft and gooey and tooth rotting sweet. The type of man who believes in soulmates, who coos at kittens in store windows, who teared up while watching Frozen II (with an adamant cry of, “babe, Olaf is GONE” when you asked if he was alright). He is so thoughtful, always worrying about everyone else - his brothers, his family, you - before himself. A pure heart of gold wrapped in a deliciously decorated package.

Which is why you knew he was still thinking about what happened the day prior.

It had been such a silly thing, something that you had mentioned once but that he couldn’t get out of his mind, and he had wanted to surprise you. He could barely contain his own excitement when he picked you up, admiring your sundress while his legs bounced with untapped energy, insisting you closed your eyes until you had reached your destination.

The Tea Parlor had been perfect, everything you had imagined when you had casually dropped the idea of high tea to your boyfriend. The room was giant and open, windows taking up all of the walls, light spilling in to make the finery of the tea cups and serving trays glisten. You had squealed with excitement, rushing up to the hostess with a spring in your step, Jungkook giggling as he stepped up behind you.

She was friendly at first, polite smiles and kind eyes, until she heard the name the reservation was under. The minute Jungkook’s name spilled from his lips, the hostess went cold, stiff. Her disgust was blatant as she openly glared at him, gaze dragging up and down his form before doing the same to you. Before you could ask what was wrong, she snatched up the menus, giving a curt “Right this way, Mr. Jeon” before turning on her heel, leading you both to the back of the parlor.

A warm palm at the small of your back had you turning to look at Jungkook, seeking comfort in his gaze, but instead he was focused on the woman in front of you, eyes arctic and emotionless. He guided you to follow the hostess weaving between tables, and it was only once you were both seated that she addressed him again, voice pitched low. “You may have other people’s respect around here, but not mine. I know who you are and what you do. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Placing a menu down, she turned to face you, vitriol lacing her voice. “You should be, too. Out with a man like this, flaunting yourselves? It’s offensive.”

You weren’t sure how long you had sat in shocked silence when she made her exit, the menus laying unopened on the table. She had put you in the very back of the room, in a darkened corner, something you would normally disapprove of - but once seeing the look on Jungkook’s face, you were glad not to have an audience.

“What in the fuck was her problem?” you scoff, reaching a hand to lay on top of his own. “Jungkook, don’t listen to that shit. She has no idea what she’s talking about.”

He was still silent, his free arm clenching and unclenching slowly on top of the delicate lace tablecloth. He hadn’t looked up at you since the hostess had left, but you could see the unchecked rage sparking his eyes, the calculated way he was chewing his lip. His mind was racing, and you weren’t sure where it would land - but you wanted him to know you were here.

“We don’t have to stay, babe. We can go somewhere else for high tea,” you murmured, smoothing a thumb over the inked words on his knuckles. “Or, we can go shopping, have our own high tea with unlimited tiny sandwiches and desserts, where no judgmental bitches are allowed.”

He snorted then, the corner of his lip turning. “So what, then you won’t come to your own high tea?”

You had flicked his hand then with a laugh, moving to interlace his fingers with your own, and after a few whispered declarations of love, he had lifted you from your seat, stopping to twirl you once before guiding you to the front of the parlor to exit.

He only turned back once he was sure you were safe outside the door, mumbling a “gimme a minute” before he was darting inside, tall form stalking towards the hostess yet again. You weren’t sure what he had said to the woman, but you could see her face - the fear that pooled in her eyes - and you knew it was enough.

It had been two days since the incident, and Jungkook had been off since. Instead of any usual errands, he had holed you both up in the apartment, nesting and appeasing you with copious cheese snacks and shirtless cuddles on the couch. You had tried to gently ask if he wanted to talk more about it, prompt him in quiet moments and in the protection of your arms, but he always skirted around it, insisting everything was fine, instead pulling you in for a kiss and a reminder that he loves you.

It made your heart ache, to see the man that you love so much, the twin flame to your soul feel like he couldn’t open up, couldn’t untangle the threads in his mind. He was always worrying about you, taking extra precautions in his work and personal life to ensure your safety, and you found yourself wishing desperately that he would let you take care of him for once.

He had never been good at keeping his emotions hidden.

You turn your eyes to the screen once more, catching the end of the episode, the screen cutting to black just as Naruto yells “I’ll never let my comrades die!”, which was a pretty good sign that you had been spacing out in thought for longer than you meant to. As the ending credits played, you nudged Jungkook with your shoulder, turning to face him.

“Babe?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Well, it’s just - I gave you the perfect opener to roast me about my love for Kakashi and you didn’t take the bait,” swinging your legs into his lap, you move your arms to drape loosely around his neck. “Didn’t even blink. Doesn’t sound like the Jungkook I know.”

He hums then, palming your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Why?”

Internally, you sighed. You knew this wasn’t the case, but it also seemed that every attempt to discuss things had been thwarted by the beautiful man one way or another. You needed him to feel ready to open up, to feel vulnerable - and as you stared at the strong, toned arm now touching you, an idea clicked into place.

He grunts an affirmation, turning to face you, inked hands smoothing a path up your legs. There’s a smirk on his face, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re right, I was distracted. I was thinking-”

Pressing a finger to his lips, you shush him. “First of all, I’m always right. Haven’t you learned that by now?”

Jutting his chin, he nips at the digit, trapping it between the edges of his teeth. “Sounds fake.”

“Second of all..” you continue, voice husky with a new bead of lust pooling low in your gut. You drag your finger over the plush flesh of his lip before sliding lower, tapping his chin once before you grip his jaw tightly. The responding hiss he gives makes you smirk deviously. “No more thinking. I think it’s time for more distractions.”

Jungkook whines lowly as you move to straddle his lap, your palm still clutching his mouth to pull him closer to you. Your free hand smooths the hair out of his face, nails raking lightly against his scalp.

“Is that okay?” your lips ghost against his own, close enough that he could capture them into a kiss if he wanted, but instead he nods his head, eyes heavy with longing.

Threading your fingers around his midnight locks, you give one sharp tug, exposing his intricately tattooed throat as he keens once more. Releasing his jaw, you drop your head, mouth puckered and planting a kiss on his pulse point. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Jungkook’s chest is heaving, pulse galloping wildly beneath your palm. He hitches a breath, swallowing thickly. “Fuck, baby. Yes, yes that’s okay,” he rasps, words needy and rushed.

Large palms cup your ass, pulling you closer until you are flush against him, and you moan against his neck as he kneads the flesh, his hips raising off the couch. His tongue finds the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and your eyes roll back as he nibbles and licks at the tender skin.

Giving in for a moment, you enjoy the feeling of Jungkook’s mouth on your heated body, the warmth of his lips and tongue igniting a fever in your bones, his hands still pulling at the globes of your ass until you were dragging your core over his clothed cock.

It was a deep growl from his chest that brought you back, lifting your head away from his dangerous mouth. This was supposed to be about him relaxing, but if you continued down this path, you knew you’d be lost under his spell.

With great effort, you step off of his lap, knees wobbly as you untangle yourself from Jungkook’s form, though the sight before you makes you want to collapse. Jungkook looks beyond fucked out, eyes dark and shining with desire, his lips ruddy and shining with overuse. He’s panting, his black t-shirt seemingly straining against heaving muscles, the imprint of his cock evident and thick even through his sweatpants.

God, you wanted to ruin him.

“Lay down for me,” you husk, throat painfully dry. You watch as he does what he’s told, laying until his whole body is now on the couch, his umber gaze never leaving yours.

“Good boy.”

He rolls his eyes then, but his cheeks flush, the praise affecting him despite his embarrassment. “Don’t make fun of me, babe. I’m a very powerful man.”

Chuckling, you move to slide off your sweatpants, stepping out of them and your panties once they hit the floor. A quick flick of your wrist has your top discarded across the room - and leaves you bare before Jungkook.

“I know you are. But I also know you like it when I take care of you, hmm?” you move closer, hovering just by the edge of where he’s laying, planning your next step.

Jungkook can’t take his gaze off of you, doe eyes obsidian and devouring you whole, darting between your face and splendidly naked form. His hand grips his bulge , palming himself as he hisses in response.

Climbing over his lap once more, you pause before settling, instead gripping the edges of his shirt to pull over his head, tossing it errantly. Drinking him in, you trace the lengths of his abdomen, grazing over his nipples before following the inked lines down his arms, hands intertwining. Dropping your hips, you roll them once against his hardened cock, moaning at the friction before you move his arms to rest above his head.

“Leave these here,” you order, but there’s no bite, only softness as you trace back the lines of his palms, the underside of his biceps. He was peering down, wanting to watch your every move, regarding you with admiration as you leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss to his collarbone.

You take your time, dragging your lips back and forth along the planes of his toned chest, nipping and suckling reddened blemishes on his skin, relishing in the sounds he was making for you - just for you. A quick glance told you that he’s behaving, arms still perched above his head and draped onto the side of the couch, though twitching when you would reach a sensitive spot with your mouth. His eyes are closed, bottom lip tucked beneath his teeth, and when you lap at the hollow of his throat, his brow furrows in strain, as if it took every effort to not reach down and pull you closer to him.

Seeing him blissed out beneath you, relinquishing his control despite his body screaming at him not to has heat flooding your veins, your cunt clenching in desire. If there was one thing that turned you on more than Jungkook existing, it was pleasing him until he forgot his own name.

With a groan, you lift your lips to press against his own, gasping when his tongue immediately slides into your mouth, tangling with yours. Jungkook always kisses with such passion, hunger edging in every suckle and nibble of your pout, lips moving in tandem. For a moment, you allow yourself to drown in it, relishing the taste of him, kissing him until you’re forced to pull away for air.

Pressing your forehead to his, you pause, allowing you both time to breathe, your hand rising to cup the silk line of his jaw. His eyes look pained, brows pulled taunt as he looks up at you, and you can feel the sinew muscle beneath your palm twitch.

Nuzzling against his nose once, twice, you press a chaste kiss against his lips once more. “Jungkook,” you breathe, searching his gaze. “It’s okay. I’m with you, I got you,”

He swallows thickly, nodding. “I know, babe, I know you do.” He leans forward, chasing your mouth, tugging your bottom lip lightly between his teeth before dropping. “I just, I hate that she said that to you, that you get treated differently because of me, because of who I am-”

Hushing him with a kiss is much more effective than with your words, and you continue to lick into his mouth until he's groaning beneath you once more, your name a whispered mantra on his lips.

“I don’t care what she thinks, what anyone thinks. I know you, Jungkook, and I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. So much.”

It was only once the yearning and eagerness came back to light his eyes that you continue, sitting up on all fours so you could crawl upwards. Hips dangling precariously above his face, you could see a quirk of his eyebrow before he looked up at you once more, gaze dripping in wonder.

“You gonna sit on my face, hmm? Let me taste you?” he rasps, hands moving from their invisible restraints to slide up the outside of your thighs. You let him explore for a brief moment, savoring the sensation of calluses dragging against your soft skin, before you grab his wrists, pinning them back above him.

“Only if you’re a good boy for me.”

A giggle escapes you at his expression, but before he could protest you lower yourself to his mouth, letting out a sigh when puckered lips immediately latch onto your throbbing clit. He drags his tongue against it before tugging it between plush lips, suckling harshly, your eyes rolling back as you grip the couch to steady yourself.

“Fuck, Jungkook,”

Grinning against your core, he alternates his attack, lapping your wetness, licking the length of your vulva before focusing again at the hardened bud at your apex. Just when your thighs start to tense, your high within reach, he moves back to tonguing your slickened core slowly, moaning as he tastes you like a man starved.

Reaching down, you grab a fistful of his hair, pulling him closer to your aching center, briefly regretting your decision to not let him touch you - but too stubborn to lift the request. “You’re so good, baby.” you mewl, hips rutting against him. “So good to me, I’m so close, please don’t stop.”

Jungkook’s tongue lashes against your cunt with a renewed fervor, your praise spurring him on with the only goal being to satisfy you. As the band in your stomach tightens, your thighs start trembling, making him groan against you before focusing on your clit, the vibrations of his mouth proving to be too much alongside the onslaught of his suckled kisses.

With a cry of his name you tumble over the edge, releasing the pent up orgasm with a flood of liquid arousal, Jungkook lapping up every drop as you give it to him. He’s whispering praise all the while, telling you how good you did for him, how delicious you taste - taking care of you even as he guides you through the crest. Feeling weak as you come down, you shudder a breath, hand reaching to stabilize you on the couch edge long enough to move away from that dangerous mouth of his.

“God, that was so hot, Y/N, you’re so good to me,” his voice is rough, gravelly with misuse. Unable to stop himself, his arms come to cradle your shivering form to his chest, laying you completely on top of him.

You give in, allowing yourself time to catch your breath and regain stability in your wobbling bones. His hand smooths against your hair, cooing softly at you. When you feel firmly returned to earth, Jungkook shifts, moving as if he wanted to pin you beneath him.

“Are you going to be good for me now?” he smirks, eyebrow raised in cocky defiance, the kind only earned from having the skills to back it up.

Returning the smile, you shake your head, pushing his chest back down to the couch. “Absolutely not, who said I was done with you?”

A retort dies on his lips at the sight of you slinking down his legs, hands pulling his sweatpants on your descent, his cock red and dripping in precum as it slaps taunt against his abdomen. Sucking a digit into your mouth, you pull it out with a lewd pop to trace lightly up and down his length, stopping to swirl it around the leaking head.

The thick cords of muscle in his tattooed clad thighs tense at the light touch, and his hips rise to chase the contact. “Baby, you’re going to kill me, please,” he whines, and it’s sweet music to your ears.

“Hmm, want me to touch you? To taste you?” you murmur, dropping your head to kiss lightly up his shaft - just enough pressure to let him know you were there, but not enough for any sort of relief.

“God, I want you so fucking bad,” he mumbles frantically, words tying around his tongue thickened with lust. “Please, baby. I’d do anything. You want me to beg? I’ll get on my knees,”

He cuts off with a moan when you slip the tip into the molten heat of your mouth, worshiping the sensitive flesh with your tongue, sucking gently. He’s bucking now, desperate to feel more, but you pull back enough to not allow his cock to sink further into your mouth, content to lap at the reddened head until he was dripping.

Savoring the hardened lines of his body and the lecherous way he was looking at you for a moment longer, you finally acquiesce, dragging your mouth down his shaft until you could nuzzle the hairs at his pelvis. The growl that rumbled through his chest was your reward, his hands now sliding through your hair to tug at your scalp.

“Fuck, so good,” he babbles, gulping for air. “Feels so good, you’re so good to me.”

Pacing yourself, you glide up and down, tongue swirling around velvet steel as you take him fully, one hand cupping around his base. While his length was impressive, it was the girth that took you time to adjust to, and once you were used to the heaviness on your tongue you increase your speed, taking him as far back into your throat as possible before swallowing around him.

Jungkook cries out, your name tumbling from his lips as his hands tighten in your hair. He thrusts shallowly up into your mouth once, twice, before he hisses, pulling you off of him with a grunt.

“I-I can’t, you can’t keep doing that,” he stutters, licking the salt off his lips. “If you do, I’m going to come.”

Grinning, you slide your fist that had been holding him steady up his shaft, squeezing lightly. “What if that’s what I want? What if I want you to make a mess for me?”

The cock in your hand pulses at your words, and pride swells in your chest, a wicked light brimming in your eyes. “Jungkook?” your free hand moves to cradle the weight of his balls, massaging gently. “Would you let me?”

He whines, head slamming back into the pillows as he gives in to your tease. “Did I mention that you’re going to be the death of me? Because if not, I would like to make sure that statement is on record.”

“Well, that’s not an answer.”

Bucking his hips, his hands slide from your hair to rest on top of your own. “Yes,Y/N. I’d let you do whatever you want to me. I’d let you wreck me thoroughly and I’d thank you for it when it was over,” he pants, before pulling your grip off his throbbing arousal.

Pouting, you watch with narrowed eyes as he sits up, his inked palm coming to caress your cheek. “But right now,” he timbers, voice low, “I want nothing more than to feel you, bury myself inside you. To have your tight pussy squeezing around me as I come. ”

Tracing the lines of your lips, he leans to ghost his mouth against yours, breath intertwining. “Will you let me?” he whispers, imitating your words, nosing down to your pulse point, your throat. A surge of desire had your thighs pressing together, your nipples pebbling as he scorches your neck with the fire of his tongue.

Shoving him down, you straddle him once more, wasting no time to reach behind you to firmly grasp his cock and sheath it into your awaiting heat. You both moan at the plunge, his thickness stretching you deliciously until the pressure ebbed into pleasure.

Once you are fully seated, you lean over him, watching his face intently as you roll your hips gracefully, slowly. Jungkook angles up far enough to pull a nipple into his mouth, encircling it with tongue until you were groaning for him. Inked arms snaked down to grasp at the meat of your ass, dragging you back and forth, your engorged bundle of nerves grinding deliciously against his pelvis. You couldn’t help but to keen loudly, gasps for air becoming more desperate as your unhurried pace tortures you both into delirium.

It’s then he speaks, tone husky as he admires you. “You are so perfect, so beautiful, baby,” he presses swollen lips into your neck, your collarbone, your breast. “Perfect for me.”

His hands slide up to grasp your hips, fingers pressing so deep you were sure they’d leave small bruises in his wake. Moving to plant his feet firmly against the couch, he starts to thrust up into you, his assault relentless as his tight grip pins you in place. Crying out, you throw your head back, eyes closing against the euphoria of him stroking every sensitive spot inside of you on each plunge.

“So good, taking me so good,” he croaks, voice thick with lust. “God, look at you. Falling apart for me.”

You clench then, tightening around his cock and making him choke on a moan. “I can make you fall apart for me t-too,” you breathe, placing your hands on his broad chest to help you meet each snap of his pelvis.

“I know you can, baby. You can make me do anything,” his eyes meet yours then, intense and overflowing with admiration. “I worship you, f-fuck. Love you, I love you so much.”

You try to hold eye contact, but his pace is relentless, his cock filling you to the brim, ravaging you with stamina only he could possess. “I love you too, Jungkook,” moaning, you start to meet each thrust, chasing your high.

He can tell you’re close, tell by the way your eyes are squeezed tight, your cheeks blooming pink, mouth agape in a silent scream. He sits up, settling you onto his lap so he could be face to face with you. “Open your eyes, I want to see you,” he hisses, hands still guiding you to bounce on his length. “I wanna watch you come for me, wanna come with you.”

Prying open your heavy lids, you meet the matchbook fire in his gaze, feeling yourself tighten around him at the carnal lust he assaults you with. You were close, so close, and when he whines out another melody of your name, you feel the thinned band finally snap, throwing you into your second orgasm.

Jungkook fucks you through it, composure lost when you clench around him like a vice, and he reaches his peak as you’re coming down, groaning as he spills himself inside of you. It takes his hips a moment to catch up, stuttering a few final snaps before resting, and then he’s tugging you down to him, pressing your form tightly to his own.

Heavy panting filled the room, and you let the rhythmic beating of his heart bring you back to earth, lull you until your eyes were heavy with fatigue. Jungkook was still inside you, and you could feel him softening though he made no indication of moving. An inked hand rose to sink into your hair, scratching your scalp soothingly.

“You’re the best at distractions,”

“I know.”

Licking his dry lips, he whistles lowly. “Spend the night with me?”

You chuckle, sliding your palm to rest on his chest. “I live here, you dummy.” Humming, you trace the patterns of the designs etched into his skin serenely . “We should still talk about it, though. What’s bothering you.”

He stiffens beneath you, letting loose a shaky breath. Silence envelopes you both, so you continue. “You know I have no regrets about the choices I made, about choosing you. I can protect myself. And I’ll always defend you, Jungkook.”

“I know,” he starts, tone shifting. “I always knew my lifestyle would bring some challenges, and I was ready to face them. But when it affects the people I love - when it affects you - I just,” he pauses, chewing on his lip as he searches for the words. “I just hate it. I know you don’t need me to, but it makes me want to shield you from the world. Lock you away with me, safe from everything. Just the two of us.”

Your heart squeezes tightly at his words, at the sincerity in his voice. You don’t like that he’s worried over you, but you also understand that this is just him, his heart. He will always want to shelter those he loves from pain, and it’s one of the million reasons you trusted him with your life - loved him so deeply.

“We’ve done a pretty good job at that the last few days, I think,” you smirk, resting your chin on his chest to meet his eyes. “We can get through anything as long as we’re together, you know?”

Jungkook grins then, one of his wide ones that crinkles his nose and shows off his teeth, and the rush of love that hits your veins makes you dizzy.

“I know, baby.”

You continue to talk for a few more moments, content to be wrapped up in his embrace, despite the fact that you were both nude and in great need of a shower. When you finally move to stand, stretching your limbs over your head, another thought crosses your mind.

“Wait, I need to know - what did you tell the hostess that day? At the tea parlor?”

Jungkook rises to full height next to you, hair sweaty and flopping into his eyes. He tilts his head, expression sliding into one more serious. “I told her that I was glad she knew who I was, because then she knew what would happen if she ever so much as looked at you the wrong way again…” he trailed off, stepping closer to give you a glimpse of his cold glare, a small taste of the power he possessed.

“And that is I would leave her a terrible review on Yelp. I’m talking abysmal, zero stars, and a detailed essay on just how unprofessional she was. Tell all my friends to do the same. She’d be lucky to have a job by the end of the week when I was through.”

You stare at him wide eyed for a beat before laughter overtakes you, arms rising to slide around his neck, pulling him closer. He was trying - and failing - to keep the serious look on his face, eyes glittered with mischief, chuckles rumbling low in his chest. Pecking the side of his upturned pout, you sigh dreamily.

“My hero.”

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years ago

Text

Chill Out

Characters: Rio x black!reader

Summary: Wine drunk + dancing= a very entertained but annoyed Rio

Warnings: Smut

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEA 💖 @starrynite7114 thank you for being such a great friend. I hope your day is filled with joy 😘 love you, babes! P.S. this was so hard to keep a secret from you lol

I highly recommend listening to these while reading:

Today you were on a high. You woke up feeling good and the day just kept on getting better. Your friends came over for drinks and gossip. During that time the playlist that was playing in the background had hits after hits, causing y’all to be singing dancing fools.

Eventually, the girls had to leave because it was a school night, but it was perfect timing because as soon as they were leaving Rio came back home.

“You have fun, mama?” He kissed you tasting the wine on your lips. You started getting bolder, nibbling on his lips and neck. Oh, it was about to be one of those nights, Rio thought.

Rio pulled away from you and went to the refrigerator for a water bottle. “Not right now. I wanna watch the game.” He explained, plopping down on the couch.

You tried to hold in your whining. It wasn’t often that Rio got to relax, so left him be. “Do you mind if I play music while I clean up?”

“Nah, you do you. I don’t wanna hear the commentators anyway.”

With his permission you turned the music up. It was a little mix of everything so when Crush started playing you got hyped since you haven’t heard that song in forever.

It's just (aah) a little crush (crush)

Not like I faint every time we touch

It's just (aah) some little thing (crush)

Not like everything I do depends on you

Sha-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la

Rio side-eyed you as you began to sing and dance like every white girl in a 90s movie. “Really? You jamming out to this mess?”

“Rude.” You continued singing and dancing along while you were wiping down the counter. Then the next banger came on and you had to rope Rio in.

Motownphilly's back again

Doin' a little east coast fling

Boyz II Men going off

Not too hard, not too soft

Before you were in the kitchen singing and dancing, but with this new song you migrated to the living room dancing in front of Rio. “What you know about this?” You taunted him while doing the running man.

Rio secretly loved that you were dancing like a fool. You were the sunshine in his gloomy life.

He tried not to crack a smile at your silliness, but he couldn’t help it. “Come here,” he crooked a long finger at you.

Continuing to dance, you shook your head no. He wasn’t about to rain on your parade. “Come here.” Rio repeated with more authority in his voice.

This time you complied and stood between Rio’s legs. Grabbing onto your hips Rio pulled you into his lap. For awhile he massaged your scalp while he just stared at you lovingly.

Rio was the king of building up tension. Usually, you would snap and tell him to hurry up, but that would only make him prolong it. However, you were enjoying it this time. His nose rubbing against yours, his breath tickling your face, his hands running along your body.

Eventually, his lips graced yours. He held your chin as the kiss got a little messier. But as usual it was magical. “I love you,” he smiled at you.

“I love you too.” You kissed him once more before you got up. He smacked your ass as you walked away, enjoying it ripple before he got pulled away by the game. “Be ready as soon as the game is off.”

“Okay, daddy,” you giggled and went off to finish cleaning.

As you continue to clean you continued dancing. During commercial breaks you would dance in front of Rio causing him to roll his eyes like he wasn’t enjoying it. Mostly it was silly dancing, but then the twerk songs started coming on and you couldn’t help yourself.

Damn, I want all three (come here), ooh

Ashley (ayy), ooh, Ashley (ayy)

I get hard when she walk past me (look at that ass)

'Cause she thick (thick)

Thi-thi-thi-thi-thi-thick (thick)

Thi-thi-thi-thi-thick, she make me stutter

Thankfully it was a commercial break because Rio probably would’ve pushed you out of the way when you started twerking in his face. Instead he gripped a chunk of ass and told you, “Aye, chill with all that.”

“Oh, so Jake from State Farm is more interesting than me?” Rio didn’t say anything for a bit. He just rubbed his bottom lip while his eyes roamed your body. “Girl, you better move before you have my full attention.”

Rolling your eyes you moved out of the way and grabbed you a glass of wine. Fine, if he didn’t want to play, you’ll have fun on your own.

Two wine glasses later and you didn’t give one fuck. You were all up in Rio’s face rapping along with lyrics about using men. Even though, Rio was mostly expressionless you still caught his little quirks of reactions.

“He always asking do I love him? I always be tellin' him, "Uh-uh" I told him he pushing his luck, he better be happy I fucked him.”

“Watch it,” Rio lowly warned you. As usual you paid him no mind and played the next song.

Got more milkshakes than Kelis

Ain't met a nigga who can handle me

I think I should be in museums (hey hey)

'Cause this body a masterpiece (yeah yeah)

Can I fuck ya to a trap beat? (huh huh huh)

He said girl you tryin' to trap me? (Huh huh huh)

Ah hell nah, nigga no I ain't (what what? Uh)

You can hit that door, here go ahead leave (what what? Uh)

Rio couldn’t focus on the game. Between you twerking and rapping in his face, basically saying ‘fuck him’ had him hard as fuck, but he wasn’t about give into you. However, your determination was stronger than his. The last straw though was when you got on the couch popping over ass cheek at a time while looking at him “innocently.”

I wanna bust it on your face

He wanna see my shit squirt like he squeezed it

He finna die by this pussy, he need it

He wanna keep it like lock it and key it

I tell him to bring me my money then beat it

Give a nigga back to the streets, ayy

Even though the song wasn’t your words, it was still a challenge to him. You were directing all that energy to him and you about to get it back ten-fold.

While you were in Meganland, Rio was able to pull your shorts and panties to the side. He didn’t have the time so he pulled his dick out of his pants.

“Rioooo,” you reached back to grab onto his wrists when you felt him split you open. “Nah, what you running for? Remember you were gonna ‘leave this dick up in a casket’?”

Rio loved this song. The moment when he sees the brattiness dies and you become a compliant whimpering mess. Only he could do this. Only he could make this independent, strong woman weak.

“Come on, baby. I thought you ain’t met anyone who can handle you. This sure looks like I’m handling all this shit.” Rio smacked your ass as he looked at your conjoined bodies.

It was too much and too little at the same time. Rio was giving you those long, slow strokes that had you near the edge, but could never quite push you over.

“Please,” you begged, trying to flatten yourself. “Nah, you gonna take this.” Rio pulled your hips up and got a tight grip on them to make sure you weren’t going anywhere.

“Please let me cum, Rio. I’ll be good. I promise.” Your man chuckled, making you want to cry. He either wasn’t in a forgiving mood or he was gonna make you work for it.

Grabbing you by your chin, Rio turned your face towards him. Instinctively, he stuck some of his fingers in your mouth. “You want cum, huh?”

“Mmmhmm,” you nodded, gently sucking on his fingers.

“Why should I? You wouldn’t let me watch the game.”

“Because I’ll make you feel good, daddy.” Rio smiled at you before he bent down and kissed you while wrapping his arm around your body to start rubbing your clit. “Cum on this dick, bitch.” He whispered into your ear.

Rio sped up his pace a bit and you were going crazy, yelling out his name. “Rio, Rio, tak-, tak-, take me to the room. I’m gonna squirt.”

“So?” His voice was strained letting you know he was close to finishing. “I’m gonna ruin the couch.”

“Fuck this couch. I’ll buy another. Now cum on this dick. I’m trying to finish the game.”

With his permission, you soaked Rio’s clothes and the couch and not too long after you felt his seed coat your walls.

“Shit, I love you,” you smile tiredly as you laid your head against the armrest.

“Uh-huh, get up and take all your clothes off.” Rio pulled out of you and smacked your butt. You were about to object, but when you saw the look on his face, you quickly undressed.

For a moment, Rio forgot what he wanted you to do. Your body always hypnotized him. He just stared at you with his lip tucked in between his teeth. “Come sit on this dick, mama.”

Ugh, he wanted you to ride? You didn’t have the energy for that, but you listened anyway. Facing the tv, you sank down on his dick causing you both to moan in unison.

You began to bounce up and down, but Rio stilled your hips. “Nah, you ain’t gotta do all that.” Thank god, he was gonna do all the work. “You’re gonna sit here and be still while finish watching the game.”

“Huh?” He couldn’t be serious.

“Yeah, you heard me,” Rio closed your dropped jaw. “And if you move I’ll watch the next game even though I don’t give a fuck about that team.”

Rio didn’t give you a chance to object. He turned on the tv and ignored. Guess you should’ve chilled out earlier.

Tagging: @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @starrynite7114 @sambucky8 @mygirlrenee @richonne4life @readsalot73 @chaneajoyyy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jassydwill11 @otomefromtheheart @miss-nori85 @xsweetdellzx @cherryblossomgirl20 @cocogodess15 @suburbanblackhoe @jad3djay @my-rosegold-soul @brattyfics @theartisticqueen @sesamepancakes

#Spotify #black!reader #Rio #good girls rio #rio good girls #rio x reader #rio x black!reader #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic #frizzlewrites

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wandsandwheezes · 4 years ago

Text

Wild Child | F.W

Wild Child x Harry Potter AU // 3k words // this is all thanks to @starlightweasley for making it happen and giving me the inspiration + plot to do it!!

this whole fic is dedicated to her because she deserves it sfm!!!

taglist ; @weasleysflowr @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffgirly @whiz-bangs78 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @cappsikle @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @vogueweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke

Two months ago the worst day of your life happened. Two months ago your father dragged you, kicking and screaming, to a portkey- ready to ship you off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. “Y/N, this is the last straw! I have had it up to here with your pranks.” you screamed back at him, pulling your hand from his grip, “You ship me off to England for what? To replace me like you replaced mom? Real jerk move dad.” The second you laid eyes on the overbearing castle you already knew you hated it.

You were now laid back against your uncomfortable bed, rolling your eyes, “FYI this place sucks, I can’t even breathe properly with how stuffy these uniforms are and don’t even get me started on the lack of fun and opportunities for pranks. It’s H-E-double L here.” Hermione, pulls a chair up next to your poster bed, resting against one of the posts. “You could at least try and have fun, you know. It’s not all that bad when you forget about the lack of sun and abundant rain.” Ginny looks up from her book, swinging her legs so they’re dangled off the windowsill, “If you’re so desperate to leave, you’ll just have to get yourself expelled - simple pranks and mischief isn’t enough to do it, think bigger.” you sigh pushing yourself to sit up, wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your head on your knees.”

A debate ensued as the evening grew, Hermione taking herself away from the conversation and to the common room to avoid any chance of getting roped into expulsion with your antics. “If we’re going big with pranks, there’s nobody better to go to than Fred and George.” Parvati suggests, “Even better you could try snogging one of them, It would send Umbridge mad.” Padma adds, Ginny retches at the idea, turning up her nose with disgust but laughing a little “The thought of anyone snogging any one of my brothers is ghastly, but It’s not a bad Idea, from what I’ve heard they’re not looking to stick around with the pink devil here.” You smile softly, looking up at Ginny as she continues, “Let’s get you your ticket home for Christmas!”

Sure you had played quidditch back home but you were only ever a reserve, so when ginny flew down to you, yelling that you had to take her place, not only was your heart beating out of your chest, but you suddenly questioned any and all experience you had on a quidditch pitch. Maybe you didn’t know how to play, maybe your Ilvermorny friends were lying when they said you had talent. Before you knew it, you were whizzing around the pitch, quaffle in hand, ready to score. Gryffindor were ahead 40 points by the time Harry had caught the golden snitch, meaning that not only had you helped in scoring goals, but you were on the winning team!

“Not bad, Y/L/N, I didn’t know they taught good sports across the pond,” you scoff with a laugh, walking next to the tall, red haired boy as he pushes his sweat soaked hair back and you couldn’t help but think of how attractive he was, he looked down at you, stopping you from waking, wiping a stray bit of mud from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, licking his other finger to move back in to wipe the rest away, causing you to push him away with a laugh, “I don’t want your spit anywhere near me, Weasley” he smiles, “hmm, are you sure about that?” he grabs your wrist, locking eyes for a moment - you swear you could feel the tension surrounding the both of you, so thick that it could be cut with a knife, only being broken away by the sound of a high pitched scream, causing you both to spin to look in the direction of the noise. “I take it Draco found my nice little gift, I always knew he was a proud slytherin.” Fred’s eyes widen, a smirk cracking across his lips. “You didn’t.” you nodded, starting to make your way to the Gryffindor changing rooms, “Oh, I did, just a little harmless charmed shampoo,” you shrug, he follows after you, shaking his head with a small laugh “You’re trouble, you are.”

Seeing Draco walk into the great Hall for dinner that evening was a sight to see, his bright green hair and eyebrows were unmissable, it was truly a look that turned heads, You, Ginny and the rest of the team were filling your boots on the feast before the victory party continued in Gryffindor Tower. “God, if Umbridge doesn’t punish you for that on her lap dog's plea, you’re crazy, Y/N” There were laughs between mouthfuls and cheers, “She’s only learning from the best, isn’t that right?” you shake your head, taking a sip of juice “Freddie, you of all people should know I was trouble before I’d even met you.”

If there was one thing you’d learned, the English love to party and when they party, they party hard. Bottles of firewhisky were cracked open, music blaring from god knows where, there was laughter, shouting, dancing, games and kissing or, as they call it, snogging everywhere you looked. You were high off the win alone, feeling happy for one of the first times in your few months here, you had supportive friends and most of all you had a piece of your home. Your mum was a brilliant Chaser in her time, or so your father had told you. You had lost your mum in the aftermath of the first wizarding war, a death eater seeking her out all the way across the pond and killing her in front of your father. You were only three and although you don’t remember much of her, you do remember the songs she used to sing and just how magical she made your young childhood, much to the dismay of your father. You felt your chest tighten and tears prick the back of your eyes, causing you to run from the wild party.

Fred caught you fleeing the party, even the small glimpse of your sad face breaking his heart a little, never had he seen a girl as beautiful as you cry. He felt compelled to follow you and over some consolation, he was drawn to you like you were tethered by a piece of string, following your every step till he found you crouched in a corner on the floor, staring out across the black lake. He joined you on the cold stone floor, sitting across from you. “It’s not like the wild child to not be out there as the life and soul of the party,” Fred jokes, punching your arm lightly, causing you to look up at him with a puffy eyed scowl, “okay, no jokes then.” he sighs, pulling you into his side, rubbing his hand up and down your arm comfortingly. You open up to him about losing your mother and how you feel absolutely alienated by your dad, listening intently, not daring to interrupt. “I’ll make you a deal,” he speaks up after a long sigh from you, “No more head-fry behaviour, though, I sense it may be your forte” you smile a little, the corner of your mouth turning up into a smile, “I won’t fry your head if you don’t poach my heart.” he smiles tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “an eggcellent deal.”

As you’re walking through the halls on your way to divination, a pep in your step from a good night’s sleep and a new focus, finally you’re starting to actually feel as if Hogwarts was the place to be and you feel yourself growing happier and happier with every day you spend here. You’re distracted from your thoughts when you feel yourself being pulled hurriedly into a side corridor by your hand, Fred was staring down at you, his hand pressed against the wall by your head as he traps you between the stone and his own body, “How would you feel about a going to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” he asks quietly, “Why all the secrecy Freddie? Don’t want to be caught fraternising with the enemy?” he laughs pressing a kiss to your cheek, “No, I just don’t want Umbridge finding out I’ve broken her six inch rule, but if you’re happy to risk it we can head to divination hand in hand now.” he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together, you giggle shaking your head, “We had a deal, no head frying.” he looks behind his shoulder before giving you some space, allowing you to continue your walk, “You didn’t answer me about the weekend.” you spin on your heel to look at him, continuing to walk backwards, “I think it would be eggciting, Freddie.” you spin back around to follow on with your journey, leaving the tall boy blushing and laughing to himself.

Freddie Weasley was a dime away from being a whole gentleman, he picked you up from the great hall and walked with you side by side to the small wizarding town, “I didn’t put you as a girl who enjoyed walking.” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder, you roll your eyes, “Well, I didn’t expect a flying car or anything,” he smiles, scratching the back of his neck, “well actually, my dad used to own one of those,” your jaw dropped, gasping a little, “As if!” He pushes open the door to the three broomsticks, sitting you down at a table as he shrugs off his jacket, hanging it over the chair, leaving to head over to the bar, he returns with a tray carrying two drinks and a plate. “Here you go, trouble.” he puts the drink in front of you, with you now being able to spot the contents of the plate, “Bread and fries, that's my treat?” he laughs, placing a few of the chips inside the slice of buttered bread, handing you the foreign looking sandwich “If I affect your life in no other way, then allow me this honour, the humble chip butty and a butterbeer ” You gingerly take the food into your hands, looking at it cautiously before directing your attention to the drink, scanning it for a few moments, “Here we go.” you take a small bite, the softness of the bread clashed with the hot chips which had melted the butter ever so slightly, it wasn’t unpleasant but it was definitely weird, “Kind of gross, but I like it.” you pop down the sandwich, taking a sip of the butterbeer.

After a few moments of talking, you found yourself staring into Fred’s eyes deeper and for longer, as if it no longer mattered what the two of you were saying, as long as you were with each other. “There’s something about you, Y/N,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear “Every moment I’m with you I catch my breath.” your hand presses gently against his chest, balling up the material of his t-shirt in your hand to pull him in closer. Before you knew it, your lips had connected in a soft, gentle kiss and you felt yourself melting into his touch. You were slowly coming to realise that the thing that could aid your leaving may actually be enticing you to stay. The kiss didn’t last long but it left your head spinning.

You had made your way towards the black lake, sitting on the verge just by the water, a blanket wrapped over both your shoulders, sat talking and watching the sunset as it changed and faded the colours in the sky. You were enamoured by him. Why did you have to fall so hard for him? “I need to tell you something.” he confessed, you lift your head from where it was resting on his shoulder, “What is it?” you shift a little so that you can look into his eyes but he averts your gaze. “George and I, we’re leaving here, to set up a shop down In London, I feel guilty for not telling you sooner but I didn’t think I’d fall for you as hard as I have.” He takes a deep breath, you’re stunned for words. “I’m sorry.” he breathes out finally. You grab his face, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Don’t ever be sorry for following your dreams, Freddie.”

In the week or so after your date with Fred, you noticed you hadn’t seen him as much and you wondered If there had been something you’d done wrong. Surely not, he must’ve just been busy planning the perfect exit, so you left him to it, until a whole two weeks had passed. You spotted him turning down a side hall, unmistakable tall, lanky, ginger - it must be him. You hurried down the corridor, yelling after the boy, “Freddie, wait!” hearing your voice made him walk a little faster, your shorter legs struggling to make a gain on him, you stop and shout once more, “Why do you keep avoiding me?” he stops bolt in his tracks, giving you an opportunity to catch up on him. “I’m surprised you want anything to do with such a plain English boy, collecting me like a trophy to brag to your Ilvermorny friends about how easy I was, or was that just another one of your cruel pranks to finally get yourself expelled?” you look up at him, brow furrowed In confusion. “Where did you get that from, Fred? I care about you, I really do.” he rolls his eyes, pushing past you, muttering under his breath, yet still audible enough for you to hear “bullshit.” You run back after him, “Freddie, you’re right, I was trying to get myself expelled, and I knew that being associated with you would do it with how much Umbridge despises you and Gorge, you have to believe that it was a horrible to do that to you at the start but- i've fallen for you.” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “It’s too late, Umbridge is already looking for you, Looks like you’ll get your wish after all.” A tear rolls down your cheek, “Freddie, I-” he cuts you off by pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I’m sorry, trouble.”

The full flood gates open, as you make your way back to Gryffindor tower, tears streaming down your cheeks but your sobs are silent. How had you managed to lose the best thing to happen to you and get yourself expelled? You admire every inch of the castle grounds as you walk, fearing it’s the last time you may see it, when a picture catches your eye, locked in a cabinet full of trophies, medals and awards, you see a reflection of yourself staring back, “mom?” you whisper, pulling out your wand to unlock it with an ‘alohomora’, you grab the picture off the shelf, locking the cabinet again. McGonagall finds you wandering aimlessly, guiding you to Dumbledore’s office, “I have a feeling you will want to speak to him before your Father arrives,” she explains “Don’t worry, he’s expecting you.”

“Ah, Miss Y/N, I see you have found your way into my office,” He speaks quickly, as you come into his view, “I remember when your mother stood not too far from where you are stood before me now; a bright young student, a star quidditch player and not to mention a true hero against all odds. I take you found the photo of her in the cabinet, as you are clutching it so tightly.” you were at a loss for words, “You knew my mom?” you questioned, “Very well indeed, She was one of the best in her year, when word arrived of her death I sent all the help I could give to your father, I told him you would always find a home here at Hogwarts.” you sighed, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “Then why am I being expelled?” you query, Dumbledore pauses for a moment, “You will learn a great many things here in your time, and already I see a change, you have gained knowledge, strength, integrity, good-will and determination. You have proven that you have the capacity to do well here and as I said Hogwarts will always be your home.” you smile, “Then I can stay, can I, Professor?” The old man chuckles “You have a quidditch game to get ready for, go out there and make your mother proud.” he smiles at you, you smile back at him gratefully. “Thank you, Professor.”

You run out, standing next to Fred, breathless from changing so quickly, “I thought you were getting expelled,” he joked, “As did I, I thought you hated me.” he sighed, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze, “Never. It’s good to have you back, trouble, even though you backed out of our deal.” you laughed, “What deal, Freddie?” you lace your fingers together, “that you won’t fry my head.” you bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Yeah, but you poached my heart.” He smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good luck out there, trouble.” your heart flutters, “Good luck to you too, Freddie.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred and george #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter fic #wild child #au #writing

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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years ago

Text

Evermore.

Idol!Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Summary: Strangers brought together by music, fueling each others dream. You truly were living the life.

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Day 30 of the Izumonth Collab!

P.S. I have a very small grasp on what an idol truly is so ples kpop stans dont come for me ahhh,,,, i tried fdgbhhj

Just To Clarify:

Reader and Izu meet in a cafe years prior!

They built themselves from the ground up!

Lord help me i dunno what’s going on

Perm. Tag List:

@coupsieddori @desia2 @strwbrry-lia

The roaring of screaming fans, the inconsistent flashing of blinding lights, music making the ground shake and heart jump, stealing your breath away and intoxicating your being with every lyric sung from the bottom of their hearts.

To some, every concert could be classified as the same, the pattern repeating itself until it becomes nothing but a chore instead of a passion.

To some, music becomes something to pass time with, something to hug yourself with in the early hours of the morning after a night filled with tears and no sleep, eyes burning with exhaustion.

Every person has a different answer to the same question,

“What is music to you?”

A question asked to you one calm, summer night in a run-down cafe by a handsome stranger with green hair, eyes unforgettably curious and brimming with fascination, sparkling with moon dust as their silver beams shine down on him through that freshly polished window.

He stood there, an enigma to you and all those present in the place at the time.

It was unexpected, not something you would count on being asked by someone you didnt even know.

But yet, your heart had lurched forward, captivated by the determination and child-like curiosity resting on his soft, freckled face.

The words slipped from your lips parted by astonishment before you had the chance to think as if they were being dragged from the dream buried deep within yourself.

“My life..” you had whispered so quietly you had sworn he couldn’t hear you, but a smile lit up his face, the first of many you’d unknowingly see on him in your lifetime.

“So live it.” Such a cheery response had caught you off guard back then, making confusion swirl in your gut as to just what he meant, dreams resurfacing to hopeful fingertips.

Ever since then, a day in the back of your head but never one you forgot, you gave your dream your all once more, letting lyrics fly across the page as you scribbled them down in the heat of passion, inspired by random things and editing until the words flowed smoothly enough for him to sing.

And by God could he sing.

He had told you at the time he was nothing but a mere hopeful kid, fighting his way to the top with some friends, wanting to make a difference in the world with his own words and his own voice, but it was a true miracle that your minds intertwined similarly to the way your hands often did, finishing thoughts before the words even slipped out, conversations from addictingly familiar eye contact alone.

A match made in heaven as some had described it, two peas in a pod, yin and yang, Complimenting each other and yet being polar opposites, swimming harmoniously together in the vast sea of life.

One who shined brightest in a crowd, and the other who thrived on the sidelines.

But perhaps that’s just what made your bond stronger, for together, you were grey. Not suffocatingly bright, and not depressingly blue.

Just yourselves, the truest form of love there could be.

It didn’t take long for their group to be known, emerging from the dark waves like water crashing on a rock breaching the oceans stormy surface, a breath of fresh air as lyrics and ideology comforted thousands.

Evermore was their name, bred from the desire to inspire people, remind all who listen that there was more to life than what they can see alone.

Everyday you were blessed to have met that man when you did, lucky that he was willing to embrace your flaws and help you step over your self-doubt and thrive where you thrived best, smiling happily backstage as you watched the people you adore sing songs you helped create and continue to encourage all who listened.

It was your dream come true, to create music.

A dream you often feared you would one day wake from, blinking through tear-filled eyes at that old red booth sitting across from you at that cafe.

Those were the nights you would always awake in your lover’s arms, him fast asleep with drool running down the opened corner of his mouth, but yet somehow providing reassurance in that relaxed face of his, messy green curls hugging his cheeks in the sweetest way possible.

You’d always kiss his chin in those moments, letting yourself melt like ice on a hot, sunny day all over again.

Years had passed since your first encounter with him, years you would always treasure, for how could you not?

He was a ray of light in the darkest years of your life, and you never would have succeeded if it hadnt been for his firm, helping hand.

Together, you were whole.

Even now, as he’s on stage, singing his heart out in the way he always had with that same look of enthusiasm and boyish glee.

The stage boomed with each beat drop or thump of the drums, the screaming fans a mere buzz from the soundproofed backroom where you and a few others watched the performance from a flat-screen television.

Cameras never fully captured his true beauty, despite being in HD.

No, though they captured the glow of his soft skin under the shifting lights, they never could quite catch the aura of enthusiasm he gave off or the twinkle of hope in those deep green eyes you always found yourself getting hopelessly lost in. An endless forest, no, a jungle of harmonious greens. Dewy, doe-like eyes always providing comfort to all those who are able to peer into them.

Its almost as if that’s why people are entranced with him the moment they meet them beyond the screen concealing his soul.

Some could easily say he was open to the world, large arms ready to embrace its flaws wholly, but in truth, he already has. Accepting the world as it is and seeking change little by little in ways he prays could help aid in making a difference, but one human could only ever do so much. That’s the part that wasn’t easy for him to understand about all of this, about his life and others.

He can’t always help everyone, and even he has limits. But no one wants to accept the boundaries put in place by something you cannot comprehend.

It would anger him sometimes, and inspire a new song of heartbreak he would write alone in the back of the tour bus or his office at the home you shared, mindlessly chewing his pen out of frustration until the ink would splatter on his cheek.

He always tried so hard, and most people could see that.

They admired him, wanted to be like him, singing the very essence of his being out loud every chance he could.

He and his group members made music that provided the saying ‘it’ll be okay, one day. Until then, I’ll hold your hand,’ even despite it at times being aggressive and borderline rock instead of pop.

They all worked hard, and it paid off.

You were just lucky to be able to help in any way you could, simultaneously living your dream and aiding others in their own.

It truly was a blissful life you now experienced, all thanks to him, Izuku Midoriya, the man you swore held your heart oh-so gentle in the palms of his scarred hands.

Little do most know, but you held his heart just as gently.

“Looks like they’re finishing up.” Tenya Iida, their manager, pointed out whilst adjusting his glasses in that way he always did when the hours of music streaming through speakers was coming to a close.

He was right, they had just performed their last number for the night. You smiled automatically, knowing just what was to come next.

At the end of every concert, Izuku would always give a passionate speech composed entirely on the spot after observations he made throughout the show in the back of his mind. His fans knew this, and they all immediately quieted down to the point where you couldnt even hear them.

Most of the time he would say the same things at the shows because most crowds are the same- but sometimes something strange and completely unique would catch his perceptive eye, and he would always point it out with a cheery laugh as sweat poured down his face.

It would always cause a roar of screams and laughter before he and his friends signed off for the night, leaving blissful memories in those who watched the performance.

As they all bowed on the television, you were quick to hop up, waiting in front of the couch for them to file into the place.

And soon enough, he came in, sighing happily as he wiped at his face with a towel given to him before entering.

His eyes easily found your own in the suddenly crowded room, almost as if they were pulled together by magnetism, and just like it, your feet began to move on instinct.

Arms wrapping around his torso, your lips brushed over his own parted ones before molding together in a sweet, congratulatory kiss.

A tradition, if you will.

One that you had skipped once and ended up with a pouty Izuku all night.

But you typically remembered, seeing as you usually wanted a kiss as well.

He always smiled against you during these, one hand resting on your hip as the other cupped your jaw, the pad of his thumb brushing against your cheek.

Ignoring the chorus of disgusted ‘ew’s’, you repeatedly kissed his addicting mouth with a smile of your own.

Pulling away, you slowly opened your eyes just in time to see him swipe a tongue over his reddened lips.

“Cotton candy lip gloss?” he guessed the flavor you wore breathlessly, voice hoarse from exaggerated use as his eyes met yours once more, relaxed and filled with nothing but unyielding love for you and you alone.

“Mm~ not quite.” you teased, moving your arms up so they wrapped around his neck instead, not caring that he was sweaty and warm.

You knew he loved these games, though. He enjoyed figuring out things on his own, putting puzzle pieces together in that mind that of his ran at ninety miles per hour.

Leaning in, he pecked your lips once more, smacking his lips together as he tried to figure out the taste.

“Bubblegum?”

“Yep!” you giggled as his arms dropped to wrap around your own waist, his forehead coming down to rest on your readily awaiting shoulder.

His dampened green curls tickled at your cheeks, the delirious smell of honey from his shampoo and natural musky scent of sweat overtaking your senses for a mere moment as your fingers combed through his locks.

You were hooked on having him in your arms.

You wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped up in your own worlds as the love you held for each other sparkled around you like stardust.

It was just you and him, no one else.

You sighed contently, his own hum of approval immediately following as he pulled your body flushed against his own.

“This is highly unprofessional!”

You were slowly brought out of your world as the words reached your ears, not bothering to look behind you to see a fuming Iida.

Izuku, on the other hand, shot his head up, frantically waving his arms around as you clung to him like a sloth, “S-sorry!” He apologized, knowing full well this would happen again at the next concert, just as it always does.

Truly, you couldnt help it.

It was hard not to be wrapped up in his strong arms at all points of the day.

A loud sigh sounded behind you, the tapping of what could only be Iida’s pen on his clipboard whilst thinking.

“I’ll get everything wrapped up, you all look exhausted.”

“You could say that again.” Todoroki huffed, the thump of him scuffing his boots against the carpeted floor just barely reaching your ears.

“That crowd sure was enthusiastic, but matching it definitely drained me… ahh..” Uraraka murmured, the distinguishable sound of someone plopping onto a couch being heard with the squeak of leather.

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad, you guys!” Came Izuku’s signature enthusiastic reply, grip on you tightening as his own adrenaline began to pump in his veins again, “There were so many coordinated groups wearing the same thing! And, and those dances they kept doing! I’ve never seen an entire crowd successfully do the wave before! I mean, did you guys see that! They did it!! All for us no less.. I’m so happy~” Izukus cheek rubbed against your own as he sighed blissfully, no doubt amazed by the dedication of his fans.

“I guess that was.. kinda awesome.” Ochaco giggles tiredly.

“Well, I’ve set up four-star hotel rooms nearby for you all. Two to a room. You all may choose who you bunk with, of course, but try not to wreck the rooms.. Again.” He was more than likely glaring at Kaminari who was in the back of the room, considering he did have a little after party of sorts last time and ended up destroying a dresser.

Thank goodness for the shared rooms, though, you knew with complete certainty that the other bed in your room would go unused. It’s gotten to the point where it was impossible to sleep without Izuku’s arms wrapped around you, and you him, as he relented one night over a phone call. Hell, it was the entire reason you were even brought along on the world tour, which he tried to convince wasnt the only reason.

‘You’re apart of the team!’, ‘We can’t function without you!’, ‘You make better soba than they do.’

Supposedly there were more reasons, but for now, you just wanted to indulge in reason number one.

A chorus of thanks followed, and suddenly you were being dragged out of the room by a hyper Midoriya.

That adrenaline typically ran through his body for a short ten minutes after a show, so you had no doubts that he would be crashing soon, but it was adorable to see him so energetic like a little puppy.

You lived for this, to see him smile at his well-earned success.

The walk to the tour bus out back was frantic, rushed, and definitely panic-driven as all the members not only tried to blend in with the shadows but also avoid fans that could easily start a rampage, especially since the bodyguards were lagging a bit behind.

But it was the fault of the lively and desperate twenty-year-olds, and not their own.

It certainly did bring a hint of rebellious glee thrumming in your soul, making you nearly choke on a laugh.

After successfully avoiding the press and fans after getting off the bus at the hotel, you were quick to retrieve the key from the front desk to your two-bed hotel room four floors up, stepping into the elevator with relieved hums.

“Good show tonight, guys!” Izuku pumped his fist in the air, other hand holding your own as he gave his exhausted team members his signature, award-winning smile.

They returned the gesture with significantly less enthusiasm, but it still made the skin around his brilliant eyes crinkle with joy.

With a final ‘goodnight’, he swiftly opened the door for you both, shutting and double locking it- a slight paranoid habit he had, before glancing over at you with tired eyes.

It was always so strange to you how he could always feign energy until completely alone with you.

It was nice to see him let his guard down in a way he didnt typically do, even if they were all his best friends.

He trudged over to you, having sat yourself down on the bed, just to collapse beside you with a thwump, his legs giving out beneath him as he slumped down onto his knees.

“Tired?” you questioned playfully, petting at his head and untangling locks here and there.

He hummed in contentment, voice muffled by the bed as he spoke, “nah..”

He clearly was, but you could only roll your eyes half-heartedly.

“I need to bathe.. I stink..”

“You stink.” you agreed with a nod, despite not truly believing it, only for him to whine loudly.

“How about a bath, stinky boy? You seem too tired for a shower.” You feared he would collapse in a shower from standing for hours already, and no doubt his feet were killing him, even if he didn’t audibly say so, which he never really did.

Perhaps it was a downfall of sorts, how he never let the attention go on him for too long, or ever really talked about problems unless brought up and forced out.

He certainly was stubborn from a childhood of being forced to keep quiet, but luckily enough, you could always see through that mask he wore.

It was a blessing he trusted you enough to do so, and you could say with complete certainty that that thought only made your heart yearn for him even more.

“A bath sounds good..” he flopped his head on its side so he could stare up at you, “Do you think they have bubble bath?”

“If not, a regular one will do you just fine. Either way, you’ll get clean.”

“Just me? Oh no. You’re joining me!” he shot back, not giving you time to protest, not that you would have, as he pounced on your being, shoving you down to the bed as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“S-stop it~ that tickles!” you giggled, squirming beneath him as he purposefully began to blow on your ticklish neck, fingers even coming up to tickle at your sides. You couldnt help but squeal out as he tickled you relentlessly with a mischievous smile on his handsome face.

“I-Izuku!! S-stop! Gaha! Ahhhh! N-no nonon!” you could barely breathe you were laughing so much, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes as you fought to push his larger frame away.

Snorts began to tear through your nose, much to his own bemusement and your utter horror at the atrocious sounds, and yet he smiled so sincerely at you.

Having enough, and knowing you needed to get things done, you quickly put all your strength into your back and arms, successfully catching him off guard and flipping him over so that you straddled his waist and he stared up at you in shock.

A blush burned at his cheeks upon noticing your victorious smirk, his lips pressing into a thin line as he concealed the gasp he was sure to let out.

“Now now, baby, stop messing around. The stinky boy needs a bath.” and just like that, his head popped back onto the bed with a groan, cheeks still rosey.

“Alright, alright... I’ll run the bath.” He decided, already using his arms to try and push his upper body up, to which you quickly pushed him down again, hands against his chest.

“Ah, ah, ah~ I’m doing it. Rest here for a minute. I know your feet hurt, so let me, okay?” even if you could be tough and playful sometimes, or distant and cold, you always had a very warm, caring heart. And he definitely could see that in the way you interact with others and how you were so much more with him.

He treasured it in a way that could be hard to understand to some.

Was it so wrong to be completely and utterly in love?

It was hard not to be when at times it seemed like you were the only tame thing in his life these days.

He was sure he would struggle to find one, similar to his groupmates, had he not stumbled across you that one summer night.

You were certainly one to blend in, conveniently sitting under a light that didnt work, just to hide in the shadows with your dark hoodie as you lazily ate some greasy fries.

He was tempted to pass you, grab the food that he had ordered via phone call and get out and back to his training session, but there was something about you that made it feel as though he couldn’t leave without saying something. Almost as if his very being was being pulled towards you in a way he couldn’t understand.

And so, he walked past you again, glancing down at the notebook you had wide open and noticing the lyrics you had scribbled down, along with the messages beside them.

‘Thats stupid.’ ‘Oh what a failure you are,’ ‘What type of song even is this?’ and many more harsh words you had clearly written yourself, smudged with black ink and what could only be tears as you stared off out the window.

You were a songwriter, no doubt, and it seemed as if you were close to giving up on your dreams, if you hadn’t already.

Or perhaps he was making a huge mistake by guessing, but he couldn’t help but want to intervene, it was in his nature to be nosy, and he was forever grateful he did.

Because now, you’re by his side, stuck together like glue you made yourselves.

Time had passed so quickly as he laid there on the bed, letting his sore body relax as he listened to you fumble around and the water splashing into the tub.

To some, taking a bath in a hotel was a strange thing to do, but with a hotel as nice and clearly clean as this, there wasn’t too much to worry about. Besides, your own anxiety always made you wash the tub real quick yourself.

Which is why he wanted to run the bath, knowing full well you would do this. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing.

But alas, he was too tired to truly complain.

He just wanted to relax, get clean, and then snuggle with his beloved in a bed that was far too soft for him not to think about stealing if just for a moment.

Eventually, you emerged from the bathroom, only in a tank top and undies, and he couldn’t help but eye you up, too delicious not to. My, he was sure lucky.

“Bath’s ready! Fortunately, this place had some bubble bath. I think you’ll like the scent, Zuzuku.” Walking over to in front of his damn near lifeless body, you grabbed his hands, wheezing as you struggled to pull his muscular torso up.

His arms instantly wrapped around you again, face nuzzling itself on your chest, inhaling your sweet scent.

He was tempted to just pull you onto his lap and fall asleep, but alas..

“Up.” you sternly stated, gently pushing his head back just to lean down and peck his nose.

Pulling away, you walked back to the bathroom, stopping just at the door.

Fingers gripping the hem of your shirt, you swiftly pulled it up and over, looking back to the flushed boy with an amused grin, “Come join me.”

Seeing him promptly jump up, you giggled to yourself as you waited for him, arms crossed over your bare chest.

He jumped into the bathroom on one foot, trying to pull his pants off whilst fumbling around like a headless chicken.

“Well aren’t you desperate.”

“I just want to hold you in my arms as soon as possible,” he admitted, looking over at you with a pouty face so innocent you couldn’t help but squeal on the inside.

You watched as he shed himself of all his clothes, not feeling the least bit shy at his nude self, having seen it enough times for it to not be sexual in such a domestic setting.

He hummed approvingly as foot stepped into the tub, hands gripping the sides as he lowered himself into the relaxing, warm waters filled with iridescent bubbles.

Looking over at you, he outstretched his hand, waiting.

And so, shedding your underwear, you grabbed his hand, him helping you not slip and fall as you settled in between his legs, back to chest as your head leaned on his broad shoulder, exhaling.

Kissing your cheek, he whispered “Thank you,” appreciatively.

“Mhm~” you hummed, letting your eyes slip closed as you took in this moment.

Him, the smell of the delicious vanilla cake bubble bath, and the soft lofi-hop you had playing from your phone on the counter wrapping the room in a sweet melody.

He too took this moment to relax again, letting the warm water soothe his aching joints and muscles, hands rubbing up and down your arm, the suds in the bath making you both slippery. He always enjoyed feeling your skin whenever given the chance, it was such an intimate act he cherished, seeing how he was the only one who could do it.

Time was so easy to slip by whenever he was with you, soaking in the moment of feeling you against him.

It brought a sense of normality back to his life, despite it now being barely normal at all.

And so is the life of an idol as they call it, though he wasnt quite sure how that word sat in his stomach.

He always thought of it as a figure to worship, and not him by any means.

Apparently, it’s what they called Asian band members these days, or at least that’s what he presumed.

Even if he spent nights researching the word, he was still met with loopholes and gaps he couldnt fill in.

Such a confusing term.

Nonetheless, he didnt say he wasn’t one since he didn’t exactly have the best grasp on what it is.

Regardless, it felt nice to not have to keep a forced smile on his face, but instead a genuine and relaxed one.

He found that most days he could only relax fully around you.

You always had something about you that calmed his nerves and cured any storm built from stress raging in his head.

Who knew being an ‘idol’ could be so vexing?

Strict schedules, a fairly controlled life, tight budgets, always having to be on his feet, but he had to admit it, it wasn’t nearly as hard as he heard what most groups went through.

He was lucky his friend from high school was willing to invest in this group, and it truly did pay off, seeing as they were quite popular these days.

Though he technically was loaded with money, he never bothered to spend the majority of it on himself, always putting it back into the band or donating it to charities he believed in. The fraction he had left allowed him to buy just what he needed, and some gifts he buys throughout the year just to surprise you with on anniversaries or birthdays or holidays, much to your own dismay.

And though he may be this figure others look up to, you never thought of him in such a way, out of reach and someone to scream at with joy whenever you saw him. You saw him as an average joe, a regular human with emotions. It could have been because you met him before he became a sensation, but you never got blinded by his success like he had seen before on television.

There were so many things to love about you, but most of all, he adored how you grounded him.

Even now, as his arms hold you against him and water softens your skin, he feels at home in a way he didn’t feel very often before. Home was just.. always with you. He couldn’t have a home without you in it anymore.

“I love you..” he breathed out, lips pressing against the damp skin of your neck.

You turned to stare deeply into his intense eyes filled with nothing but love, nose brushing against his own, “I love you, too.”

And so, you finished up the relaxing bath, knowing if you stayed too long you’d both fall asleep and never wake until the morning with pruney skin. It wouldn’t be the first time.

You offered to wash him, and he offered to wash you, giving you both the excuse to run your hands over each other’s body in a sensual way without it being lewd. Besides, you adored feeling his muscles and warm skin, something seemingly common in modern-day bands, but he had always said it was for himself and not just to appeal to fans or any contracts.

It was never about that.

Just a personal goal to help love himself, though you always assured he would look handsome to you no matter what, you understood his need to do this for himself.

After rinsing off, you carefully stood from the tub, offering him a hand before drying the both of yourselves off just to use as an excuse to hug. Seeing as how you both had forgotten to get a change of clothes from the bus, rooky mistake, you were doomed to spend the night in hotel robes, which wasn’t too bad either. Waddling out the room, Izuku nose-dived headfirst into the sheets as you grabbed a glass of water.

Upon him deciding you were taking too long, despite it not even being a minute, he made grabby hands at you, pouting and whining for “(Y/N)’s famous cuddles” which only brought another blush to your face that never seemed to stop smiling when around this absolute angel of a man.

Sipping at the glass of cold water, you slowly made your way to the bed, just to tease him.

“Can’t you move faster.” Izuku groaned, tossing an arm dramatically over his eyes as if watching you move so slowly was killing him

A knife to his frail heart.

He is dead

R.I.P. famous singer and songwriter, Izuku Midoriya.

Killed because his girlfriend was being too slow.

A tragedy in four parts-

His breath was suddenly squeezed from his lungs as you flopped down on him like a fish, his arm flying off his face just to be met with your damp hair tickling his nose, causing the poor fellow to sneeze.

“Ewww! Izukuuuu!” you whined, pulling your head back to mess with your hair with a look of dissatisfaction etched on your features as he just breathily chuckles.

“Aww~ Don’t be mad at me, princess! That was your own fault, you know my nose is ticklish!” though his argument did outweigh your own, you refused to accept it with a humph as you turned your head, puffing your cheeks up and crossing your arms over your robe covered chest.

Surprisingly, the robes were quite comfortable, almost like sleepwear themselves despite being meant for something different than sleeping in. They were white and prone to stains, but they sure were fuzzy and warm.

You had no doubts they would be gone in the morning from the downfall of two humans who are both personal body heaters sleeping together.

Oh, if only you had brought your light sleepwear. Nothing wrong with waking up naked, is there?

“I’ve waited long enough, cuddle me!” Izuku’s arms were outstretched, waiting for you to collapse in his arms instead of sitting on top of his belly, far too far away!

Amused, you nodded, reaching over to the nightstand, switching off the light. The room would’ve fallen into complete darkness had the moon not been shining through a sliver of a crack in the curtains on the far side of the quiet room.

Settling down, you rested your body on top of his own, letting his arms wrap loosely around your waist as he nuzzled his cheek against your own once more. Such a cuddle bug.

It only took a minute before you decided this was uncomfortable and shifted so you were both facing eachother on your sides, your own body close to the curtains, and his close to the door.

He always liked to be closest to the door, so in case of a break-in, he could protect you.

It was endearing in the sweetest of ways, though it made you wonder what went on inside his head sometimes.

Though you prided yourself on being able to understand him completely, you accepted the fact that some things you will never know about him, and some things he will never know about you.

But then again, everyone is entitled to their own secrets, right?

“I’m so glad I met you..” he sighed out dreamily, voice growing husky as drowsiness seeped in. His warm fingers traced over your cheek as the lights of the moon reflected in his eyes, giving you just enough brightness that you could see his content smile.

“I’m really glad you decided to stalk me.”

“I- I didnt-!”

“Hahaha!” you cut him off with laughter, his own following suit.

His breath was suddenly fanning across your lips, and you felt his own soft pair brush against your own, lip-gloss free ones before fully connecting them.

Kissing him had to be one of the best parts about dating him because boy did he know how to make you swoon by his lips alone.

“Goodnight.” you pulled away, pecking his nose as he giggled.

“Goodnight.” he repeated, arms wound around your body and head tucked under his chin.

Oh how sweet life could be if you took a chance.

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p-artsypants · 3 years ago

Text

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (5)

Nightmare

No lyrics in this chapter, because the song in the title has no words. But it really embodies everything I wanted to say with the chapter.

Also, ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN CHOO CHOOOOOO

Ao3 | FF.net

—

“Do you have those drafts ready for the meeting?” Asked Marinette, peering into her co-worker’s office, a very peppy woman named Jill.

“Of course! I’ve gotten them matted, just like you asked. 10, right?”

“Yes! Thank God someone is doing their job right today.”

“Oh, Marinette, where are your shoes?”

Marinette looked down to her bare feet. “Oh, I wore pumps that are great for working at my desk and walking to the water cooler, but they got kicked off somewhere around 9 this morning.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Have you seen Tim? He’s fixing the sizing sheet and I can’t find him anywhere!”

“Did you try his office?”

Marinette’s jaw dropped. “Tim has an office?! Since when?”

“Since always? Are you okay? You look like you could use a nap…or at least a cup of coffee.”

Marinette groaned. “No naps! No more coffee! My heart is just a hum now anyway! I haven’t been able to sleep the last few days and last night I didn’t sleep at all. I got this weird phone call—“ she stopped herself before she said too much. “Anyway, yes, Tim does have an office. I forgot.”

“And he’s always so good at emails, you never need to talk to him. I know. We had this same conversation last week.”

Marinette groaned again as she covered her face in shame. “Why is Mr. Agreste doing this to me?”

“Speaking of Mr. Agreste, have you gotten any answers from him today? I’ve sent three emails and he’s not responding at all. Apparently Tim’s having the same problem with Adrien.”

“I haven’t heard a thing from the manor. Not Gabriel, not Adrien, not even Nathalie. We’re supposed to have a meeting at 2, but I haven’t heard if that’s still on.”

“Doesn’t Adrien usually come into the office on meeting days?”

“He did…I don’t know what's up with him. He was being super cagey with me yesterday when I went to talk to him.” She sighed, hunching her shoulders. “I’m worried.” She didn’t disclose the truth of the conversation, that Adrien had effectively ended their friendship. It was too painful, but too fresh to ignore.

“I’ve been working here since Emilie was still around. Gabriel went through a huge personality shift when she disappeared. Maybe Adrien takes after his dad? Maybe something happened?”

“Ugh, don’t talk like that, I’ll just worry more!” An alert beeped from her phone, letting her know she had an email. “Ah! An intern’s job is never done! See you later!”

“Good luck, Marinette!” Jill called. After she left, she added, “you’re going to need it.”

At two o’clock, the department heads and designers all came together in the conference room. Marinette set up her laptop to the screen and had the presentation open, as well as the Skype call to Gabriel.

He had yet to join the session, but it was still a few minutes before the meeting officially began.

“I see you’re wearing shoes now,” said Jill.

“I don’t know if I could handle the ridicule from Mr. Agreste if he saw me bare foot in the conference room.” Marinette chuckled weakly.

“As if Gabriel would ever reprimand you,” said someone else. “He adores you.”

“That must be why he took a vacation and told no one,” she laughed again. Was her filter fading with all this sleep deprivation? Probably.

Finally, the call started, but Nathalie took the helm instead.

Before questions could be asked, she announced, “I’m afraid this meeting must be postponed.” No ‘hello’, no ‘thank you for your patience and hard work’. It was enough to make Marinette snap in all of her exhaustion and emotional turmoil.

“Nathalie, with all due respect, everyone is here and ready to go. Why isn’t Gabriel ready?” She huffed.

Nathalie glanced away from the camera, a tell that she was about to deliver a great blow. “Mr. Agreste is deceased.”

The room went silent. Someone dropped a pen.

Marinette fell into a chair, feeling like the ground was shaking under her.

“Early this morning, both Gabriel and Adrien passed away. A joint visitation and funeral will be held at the manor on Friday evening and Saturday morning, respectively. Everyone is invited, but it’s not mandatory, of course.”

Marinette couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat; it was so thick.

“The fall line will not be released this season. Two weeks paid vacation will be passed on as we prepare the new head designer to take Gabriel’s place.”

Someone asked, “Who is the new designer?”

Most heads looked to Marinette, knowing the answer.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been determined to be the new head designer.”

She sputtered out of her shock. “What? Me?! No! Surely not! I’m just an intern!”

“Intern to the head designer,” someone clarified. “We all knew you were going to be hired as his assistant soon. It was obvious.”

“But—but—“ she stammered. It was rather obvious, thinking about it. Gabriel was just waiting for her to secure that college degree to make it official. “I can’t! I just—“ Without any preamble, tears burst forth and rolled down her face.

Adrien was gone.

Her best friend. The love of her life. Without a goodbye, and on such horrible terms.

Screw the responsibilities, the job title didn’t matter. She didn’t care at all.

Several arms wrapped around her, her coworkers, her friends, comforting as best as they could.

“No one is expecting you to jump right in,” Nathalie explained. “You were quite close to both of them.”

“What about you?” Marinette rasped out.

“I had my moment earlier. I’m in business mode now. If anyone would like more details, please reach me privately.”

And she left. Like a whirlwind, leaving destruction in her path.

“Can you get home on your own?” Someone asked Marinette.

She thought she confirmed affirmative, but someone led her from the room with an arm around the shoulder. Maybe it was Tim. She didn’t really know. She didn’t really care.

When she arrived home, she dropped her purse on the floor. Where were her other bags? At the office? Oh well, didn’t matter now.

Nothing mattered anymore.

“Girl, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Alya and Nino were home, they were here and alive, and they didn’t know.

They didn’t know and she had to tell them.

“He’s gone,” She whispered.

“Who?” Asked Alya, resting a comforting hand on her arm.

“Adrien…he—he’s dead.”

“…what?” Nino squeaked out. “H-how? Why?”

“I don’t know…he and Gabriel—“ she stopped and flexed her hand. Her phone was still in her hand. It held answers.

She called Nathalie on video.

“Hello Marinette. I’m glad to see you made it home safe. I was worried.”

“What happened?” She blurted. “Nino and Alya know that he died. What happened?” Because there had to be a reasonable explanation.

Nathalie’s face morphed from serious business to pain and pity. “Are you sure you want to know?”

God, with a preamble like that, it couldn’t be good. Not painless like Carbon monoxide poisoning in their sleep, and not instant like a car accident.

“Please Nathalie, I have to know.”

She breathed shakily and admitted, “it was a murder-suicide, as enacted by Adrien. He first stabbed Gabriel, and then himself.”

“Augh!” Marinette sobbed out. It was an ugly sound that couldn’t be controlled or silenced.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could lie…but I can’t. Adrien had been acting strange lately…I think Gabriel knew this was going to happen.”

“No! You’re lying!” Marinette yelled. “Adrien loved his father! He would never—he’s not like that!”

“Marinette, I saw them. Adrien was obviously deeply disturbed.”

“SHUT UP!!” She ended the call and dropped the phone on the floor.

Then she looked to her friends, who were both bawling like her. Nino moved first and pulled her into a tight hug. Alya came around the other side, crushing her in a Marinette-sandwich.

“You’re right, he wouldn’t do that.” Alya offered. “But they’re both gone, so we can’t prove anything.”

“If Nathalie didn’t tell the office, then the truth might never come out,” Said Nino, nodding in reassurance. “Only the four of us will have any idea.”

After a long time, numbness started to set in. There was a degree of disbelief in her still, where she may have heard it, but she didn’t see it.

That left room for doubt.

Without a word, she took her phone from the floor and wandered back to her room.

After the door closed, Tikki appeared. “Marinette…”

But she wasn’t listening. She was staring at her phone screen, like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

Then she started a call.

It rang and rang and rang and rang…

“Hey there, it’s Adrien, I’m not available to answer right now. But leave me a message or shoot me a text, and I’ll get back to you. Hope you have a great day!”

The phone beeped.

“Adrien,” she sobbed. “Adrien I know—goddamnit this sucks. I’m too late. I love you so much, and I’m too late. I wish I told you sooner. Even last night when you called—I’m sorry I didn’t know you were struggling. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to help you. I loved you so much and I couldn’t save you and I’m so sorry…”

“Marinette…” Tikki tried to tell her to stop.

“This is the closest I could get to telling you. And you’ll never hear it and—“

The phone beeped again, signaling the end of the recording.

She saved it, and set the phone down.

“Marinette…”

“What is it, Tikki? What’s so important?”

“I have to tell you something…but it’s really really bad.”

“Well, hit me with it. Today is literally the worst day of my life.”

“Adrien…well, he was Chat Noir.”

As if the day couldn’t get any worse.

“What?”

“Chat Noir. He was Adrien.”

“But—but he can’t be. You must be confused.”

“Marinette, he literally wore the earrings before.”

“I KNOW!” She screamed. “But you have to tell me he's someone else! Because I can’t lose both of them! I can’t do it Tikki!”

“I know it hurts. You two were literally soul mates. The Ladybug and Black Cat always are.”

“You’re not helping!” She sobbed.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Tikki allowed Marinette to sob for a while, letting her anguish spill out of her. Tikki just kept watch for the Akuma that never came.

“You know what you have to do next, right?�� Asked Tikki.

“What?”

She sighed. “You have to go to the visitation and take back the ring.”

“I can’t do that!” Marinette cried, horrified. “I can’t! There’s no way!”

“We’ll he can’t be buried with it. You have to, Marinette.”

Marinette crawled into bed, still fully clothed and wept and wept and wept until her tears burned her cheeks and exhaustion took hold.

All the chapter titles are songs from my spooky halloween playlist that inspired this fic (and their lyrics will be in the chapters)! You can find that playlist here. The playlist will be updated as the fic goes on.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #the ghost of Smokey Joe #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #ladybug

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