#listen I heard this statement once a couple of years ago

[storminmyveins-archived]

❝ It doesn't take a pop-tart and two fruit loops to see that right there -- is bullshit. ❞

open to : any fandom crossover.

[withleeknow]

hiya! I noticed you have your requests open and if you don't mind, could I please suggest: "for once... I was right" with "don't you dare walk away from me" for Lee Know - maybe angsty but I don't mind you just going with the flow.

thank you!

blue hour.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: exes au, exes to ...? 🫢, angst; minho's pov mostly, open ending kinda, some light cursing, unedited don't look at me word count: 2.2k (i got carried away a little bit) listen to 🎧: breathe again - sara bareilles

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

“this should be the last of your things.”

“thanks,” you say, rummaging through the box that minho hands over to you. everything that you left at his place throughout the entire time you were together; every sweatshirt of yours in his closet, every piece of jewelry on his nightstand, every bottle of nail polish that you kept in his bathroom reserved for nights where you two would pamper each other. they're all here, except for... “did you see my red scarf though? i can’t find it anywhere.”

“no, i checked,” he says. “this is everything.”

“hmm, okay.”

you hold the box between your arms, and minho can’t help but feel something twist painfully in his chest. it’s like you're holding your relationship, or what’s left of it anyway, ready to make your swift exit from his life. two years of love, all dumped into one stupid cardboard box.

you both stand there in silence for what feels like forever, just staring at each other, then at your surroundings, neither of you saying anything. minho knows why he hasn’t bid you a farewell goodnight yet; it’s because he doesn’t want this to end. even though it’s a sad occasion, the finale to your story, he still wants to the seconds to stretch on, for the minutes to last longer. after all, isn’t this the last time he'll ever see you?

why you haven’t left him to his devices and gone upstairs, he isn’t sure.

another moment passes. life goes on but it seems like you two are in your own bubble where nothing moves forward. everything stays rooted to the spot.

“do you want to go for a walk?” you ask after a while. the question surprises minho enough that he lets it show, and it makes you quickly tack on an excuse. “the weather is nice and i... i don’t want to be on my own.”

yes, he does want to go for a walk with you. anything to be with you even if it’s only for a moment longer.

“sure,” he says. “let’s go for a walk.”

“okay. i’ll leave this upstairs and get my jacket.”

he watches as you disappear inside your building, only to reemerge momentarily afterward, a wool jacket draped over your frame. he wishes you’d worn something lighter, just so he could have an excuse to wrap his arm around your shoulders if it gets colder.

you walk side by side around your neighborhood, a distance between your bodies that never used to be there before. it’s strange, of course it is. but minho supposes this is yours and his new reality now.

“how are the cats?” you ask.

“they’re okay. dori had a cold a couple weeks ago, but everything’s fine now,” he tells you. “they... they miss you.”

i miss you too - that's a thought that he doesn’t say out loud, only keeps it to himself because it feels too humiliating to utter those words to you.

“they’re cats. how can you tell?”

“i can always tell.” he shrugs. “they wait by the door when i’m already home. they sleep on your-... they sleep on the other side of the bed.”

if you notice his slip up, you don’t say anything. you purse your lips and nod somberly, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “they’ll forget about me soon enough,” you say.

minho glances at you. he wants to rebuke that statement, to argue with you over something as silly as whether or not his freaking cats will retain their memories of you in the future. but he just bites his tongue and swallows down the lump in his throat, humming to let you know that he’s heard what you said. not a hum of agreement, just one of acknowledgement.

“how’s work?” he asks. god, it’s just so fucking weird to be asking you these things. you know each other inside and out and yet, you’re here making small talk.

torn apart when all you two should be is together.

“it’s alright. still the same, kinda boring. you know there’s not a lot that can happen in that place in one month.”

yes, because it’s been a little over a month since you parted ways, since you moved back into your old apartment and left his home perpetually cold and empty. he can’t blame you for leaving when he was the one who agreed to break up. he can’t blame you for his heartache when he was the one who broke your heart first.

he didn’t mean to, but isn’t that what they all say?

“do you still want to leave?”

“sure,” you reply. “if i can find something better, i’d leave that place in a heartbeat. but for now, it’ll have to do. it used to be a bit more bearable though.”

“i hope you find something that makes you happier.”

“thanks.” you give him a smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. “how about you? how’s life?”

minho almost says the first thing that comes into mind. life is terrible without you. i think about you every single minute of every day but you're not here and it’s my own damn fault.

he could lie and come up with something much more palatable, because he doesn’t reckon his truth is something you’d like to hear right now.

but he doesn’t want to lie to you. in the time that you were together, minho never lied to you, not even once, not even over something stupid and insignificant. beside, he’s got a feeling that you would see through his bullshit anyway.

his answer ends up being a sad shrug, then, “it’s life. i’m hanging in there.”

your footsteps slow until you stop completely. this makes him stop too, turning around to look at you with his head tilted to one side, confused.

“it’s not like you to sound so defeated,” you comment.

“what?” he asks with a sigh. “it’s the truth.”

“it’s not the whole truth.”

“what do you want me to say?”

“i want you to be honest with me,” you tell him, your shoulders slumping just slightly. “i still care about you. i want to know you’re okay.”

minho takes a step closer until he’s right in front of you, the closest that you two have been all night. his body feels the warmth radiating from yours but he has to ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and touching you.

“if you really want to know, i haven’t been myself since you left.”

guilt flashes in your eyes. it wasn’t his intention at all.

you bite your bottom lip, inhale a shaky breath, before you speak, “i’m sorry for leaving.”

“don’t apologize. i’m sorry for driving you away.”

then he watches the tears well up as you look at him. he’s been wondering this the whole night, how you seem so cavalier about it all, how you’re able to speak to him so casually as if you’re just old friends with some shared history, and not as though the wound is still fresh. he’s still bleeding and you’re acting like you’ve already healed.

but he sees it now. you’re just as sad as he is, just as miserable. the only difference is you’re better at hiding it, or maybe you’ve just had more time to get used to the way it hurts.

is this how you felt in the weeks, the months, leading up to your departure? every time he neglected you, prioritized something else over you, missed every date and overlooked every text message? every single instance where he was too busy for you?

he never wanted to break your heart, but alas, here you are.

he didn’t want you to go, and yet, when you felt like you couldn’t handle the loneliness anymore, he hadn’t stopped you from walking out the door. he gave up, and he gave up so easily.

nothing along the lines of ‘don’t you dare walk away from me’, no tearful argument, no explosive and definitive end to your relationship. minho just let your love slip away.

how must that have made you feel on top of everything that he did - or didn’t do - to you?

minho has been called every variation of ‘cold’ before. to everyone else, he’s callous, rough, intimidating and unapproachable. but to you, he’s kind, soft, gentle and loving. it never mattered what anyone thought of him, as long as you always knew that he loved you, that you saw him for who he was.

but toward the end, what if you saw him how the others did? what if you had deemed him cold too?

the mere thought makes him sick to his stomach.

you sniffle, wiping at your eyes. “you don’t have to say that. it’s in the past now.”

fracture upon fracture upon fracture. minho doesn’t know how much more of this his heart can take.

his fingers twitch, and before he can stop himself, he’s reaching for your hands. to his surprise, you let him.

your hands, so delicate in his, so warm.

“i should’ve fought harder for you,” he says, his voice so small that you barely catch the words at all.

but his eyes… he hopes you can see it in his eyes - the regret, the longing, the pain of losing you dimming the light of the stars he holds there.

giving his hands a light squeeze, you say, “and maybe i should’ve held on tighter instead of letting go.”

“i made you feel like you weren’t enough. it’s the worst thing i ever did to you. i understand why you left.”

you try to calm your breathing, because you really don’t feel like breaking down in front of him right now. you don’t say anything in response; what are you even supposed to say? you told him everything that you wanted to the night that you two broke up. everything that you tried to bottle up for months was laid on the table that night. you watched as he listened to you, watched as his heart broke alongside yours. that was it.

“i… i’m sorry,” minho stutters, and for the first time since you’ve known him, he looks scared. “i’m sorry. can’t we try again? i swear i won’t let you down again. i swear to you.”

“min…” the nickname slips out of habit and for a second there, minho thinks you would say yes. but then… “i know you’re sorry. i know we didn’t break things off because we fell out of love. but i don’t think you’re at a point in your life where i can be the most important thing right now. you may not mean to, but there’ll be things that you prioritize over me… and i’m not at a place in my life where i can settle for being on someone’s back burner either. the timing’s just off. it’s not your fault, life just got in the way.”

minho stares at you, the stars dying out one by one. the hurt is beyond what any word can describe but in a way, he understands. it fucking sucks, but he gets it. he has to accept it now.

he nods solemnly, tracing odd patterns on your palms. then he asks, quietly, “can i hold you? just for a while.”

please indulge me, he thinks. this is the last thing i’ll ever ask from you.

you don’t reply with words. instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into you. you two stay there in each other’s embrace for god knows how long. it could’ve been minutes or it could’ve been hours. you always lose track of time when you’re wrapped up together.

you hold him like he - tough and intimidating minho - is made of glass, and he holds you like he doesn’t ever want to let you go.

but he has to eventually.

you untangle yourself from him to find that he’s been crying. the tears on his cheeks catch the light from the street lamps, reflecting like crystals in the night. when you wipe them away, you tell him, “for once, i was right.”

“about what?” he sniffles.

“you really are a hopeless romantic,” you smile, trying to lighten the mood. as much as you can anyway. “i knew you’d prove me right one day.”

minho wants to scoff but his eyes are burning from the tears and his throat feels like it's closing up, so he lets you have this one. the last one, right?

maybe he is a romantic, and maybe it’s only for you. maybe it makes him a little hopeless.

the walk back to yours ends too quickly. but truth be told, even if you had walked together until the sun came up, it still wouldn’t have been long enough for him.

you both stand there, two heavy hearts looking at each other, looking for one another.

there’s no goodbye, only goodnight.

and you’re the one who says it first.

minho returns your sentiment with a choked up voice, a brush of his fingers against yours, and when you finally turn to walk up the steps, his gaze lingers on your retreating figure.

then he calls your name softly. “hey, uhm... i’ll let you know if the scarf turns up, okay?”

you turn back with a knowing smile. it’s still sad, but there’s some faith hidden there.

“i hope it will.”

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 16.01.2024]

[athforskz]

Of Ex's and Oh's - Lee Felix

Masterlist

Requested by anon

Pairing: Felix x reader (afab)

Non-idol au 

wc: ~5.8k

Type: Angst, smut, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Previous heartbreak, cursing, mentions of alcohol/drinking, semi public? (The door is open but no one interrupts) cunninglingus, fingering, edging, unprotected piv, aftercare.

Let me know if I missed any!

semi-proofread

a/n: Your bestie’s name in this is Luna. Chan also makes an appearance.

Enjoy lovelies!

Beep beep

A deafening car horn could be heard outside of your home indicating that your friend, Luna, had just arrived to pick you up. You grabbed the oversized and overpacked suitcase before making your way out of the door and to your friend’s car. She squealed in excitement once you opened the backseat door to stuff your bag next to hers. When you finished struggling, you sat next to her on the passenger side with an exasperated sigh. “I can’t believe you actually managed to drag me out of the house for this.” You said while turning to Luna. 

“Oh c’mon, a trip will do you some good! I couldn’t let my best friend continue to rot in her bed for another 6 months.” She started the car back up and began the drive to the airport. 

“I was not rotting. Just healing…?” You questioned your own statement.

“Y/n, you broke up with your ex over half a year ago. All you did was go to work then go home and lay in bed. You even stopped hanging out with me. If that’s not rotting then I don’t know what is.” She had a point. Nothing you did after the breakup with your long time boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend was healing whatsoever. Still you wanted to take things at your own pace. You’d get back out there eventually, or so you had kept telling yourself for the past couple of months. You know all Luna wanted was to help you get back to your old self. The person you used to be before the toxic breakup, before you had even met your ex in the first place. 

“Okay, maybe I get it. But why Australia of all places? You couldn’t have picked like Paris or something?” You questioned.

Luna shook her head as she pulled into the airport parking lot. It was a short drive from your place. “Well, Australia is beautiful this time of year! Not too cold, but also not blistering hot like it is in the summertime. And Paris is just so… cliche. We needed something different for our first trip out in god knows how long.” She finished explaining.

“Sounds like you did your research at least,” you credited her. 

“Not to mention, Australians are sexy!” She wiggled her eyebrows at you. 

You face palmed shaking your head, “Luna, that is not what I need right now!” 

“What? I’m just saying that the best way to get over someone is to get under somebody else.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. You rolled your eyes as you got out of the car after she had parked. 

Hooking up with a stranger was the last thing on your list. You weren’t the promiscuous type and definitely didn’t plan to start during the trip. 

After grabbing the bags  out of the back you both started your trek through the airport. Passing through security went smoothly and you silently thanked the heavens you didn’t forget your passport. Another 30 minutes passed and soon you were seated on the airplane next to your friend.

“How long is this flight again?” You asked while fishing out headphones from your carryon.

“Hmm, only about 15 hours or so.” She answered.

You choked, “ONLY 15 hours?!” 

“Hey, it was the best deal for a straight through flight.” 

All you could do was let out a groan in response. You put on your headphones and listened to some calming music. Mind as well get comfortable during this long flight, maybe catch up on some sleep. 

Contrary to your intentions you barely got any sleep by the time the plane finally landed. The seats were just way too cramped and uncomfortable. Luna, on the other hand, slept like a baby the entire flight. 

“Ugh I can’t wait to get back to the hotel and relax.” You chimed to Luna while you both waited to retrieve your bags. 

“Oh yeah about that..” she trailed. You simply raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to continue. 

“That hotel we looked at was way out of our budget for the nights we picked so I booked us an Airbnb instead.” She finished. 

“Okay, that’s not so bad. I thought you were going to say you forgot to book a place or something.” You wouldn’t put it past Luna to have forgotten something as important as booking a place to stay. She was rather forgetful when she got excited about trips. 

Finally, the rightful suitcases had arrived allowing you and Luna to catch a cab to leave the airport. On the ride to the Airbnb you could tell that Sydney, Australia was beautiful. It may have been nighttime but the way the lights lit up the city was something out of a storybook. 

About 20 minutes later, you had arrived at the destination. Upon looking at the small house it was cute, nothing too fancy. You grabbed your belongings from the trunk of the cab and thanked the driver before racing up to meet Luna on the doorstep. She punched in the key code to open the door. Immediately upon entry the interior was warm and inviting. The house sported an open floor plan with a modern kitchen and living room towards the front of the house. You both made your way past the living room down a hallway that led to two bedrooms and one large bathroom. Luna didn’t hesitate to pick her room, throwing her bags down on the bed as her claim. The rooms were decent size and had a pretty similar vibe overall. Only difference was, Luna's room had an extra window. 

You dragged your bag into the room that was left to you and plopped down on the soft bed. 

“Hey, Y/n! Can you order some food?” Luna called out from her room. As if on queue your stomach growled. 

“Yeah! What do you want?” You pulled out your phone and opened up a delivery app, punching in the address to your temporary place. There were plenty of options to choose from as you scrolled. 

“I don’t know, you pick. I’m down for whatever. Just make sure it gets here quick.” She answered. You giggled, assuming your friend must have been as hungry as you. Who wouldn’t be after such a long flight? You decided on a simple dinner of Thai noodles for the both of you. 

“Food should be here in 20-25!” You yelled out. 

“Perfect. Now which one should I wear?” Luna had appeared at your door holding up two different outfits: a mini dress in one hand and a matching two piece set in the other. 

“Are you prepping for tomorrow or something?” You inquired while pointing to the mini dress.

“Nope. Tonight.” She smiled innocently at you while returning to her room. 

“Tonight?! You’re going out? It’s already late.” You followed her. 

“Correction: WE are going out. And it’s not late, it's only a little past 9pm.” She retorted. 

“Luna, we’ve been traveling all day and I’m tired, all I want to do is eat and get into bed.” You had your arms crossed over your chest.

“We’re only here for 4 days, Y/n. Come on, it’ll be fun! Pleaseeee?” She pleaded with you. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Alright, alright fine. But I’m not taking care of you tonight if you get shit-faced drunk.” You gave in to her begging. Luna jumped over to you to entrap you in a tight hug. “We are going to have tons of fun, you’ll see!” She promised.

Maybe you’d feel a bit more up to it after you got some food in you. Retreating to your room, you rummaged through the clothes in your suitcase to see what outfit you could throw together. You settled on a bustier cami top with black lace detailing, flowy mini skirt, and strappy heels.

Luna and you were in the bathroom doing hair, makeup, and chitchatting when you heard a knock at the door. 

Must be the food, you thought. 

You went to retrieve the meal and set it on the kitchen counter. Luna came out shortly after to join you. You both ate rather quickly, enjoying the meal before finishing getting ready. By the time you had finally gotten dressed you were even sleepier than before. The full tummy hadn’t helped like you thought. 

Nonetheless, you had made an agreement with your friend to go out, plus you were already ready to go. Luna insisted on taking a few pictures to remember the occasion before setting out. 

True to her habits, Luna had forgotten to tell you that you’d be walking to your destination. While it wasn’t freezing cold, the night air was still chilly. You had silently cursed your shoe choice while walking. It wasn’t far thankfully, only about 5 minutes. Once you both made it, you stepped into the bar, immediately being welcomed into the nightlife. The music was loud and the smell of alcohol filled the air. 

All of a sudden you felt uncomfortable, you pulled at your skirt making sure it stayed at about mid-thigh and covered your chest with your arms. You hadn’t been out to a bar since before you started dating your ex. He hated when you went out, always making remarks that you dressed ‘too slutty.’ Your brain was filling with thoughts of him and all you wanted to do was find a way back to your room to curl in bed. 

Luna noticed your turmoil and grabbed your wrist to pull you to a less crowded area near the bar. She placed a hand on your cheek and looked into your eyes asking the silent question if you were okay. You simply nodded your head, not wanting to ruin your best friend’s night already. She turned to the bartender ordering a couple of drinks for the two of you. 

You looked around the place, trying to calm yourself down. It was packed for sure, people dancing and spilling their drinks all over the floor as they bumped into each other. Just then, there was a tap on your shoulder. You jumped, startled but quickly settled when it was just Luna handing you a shot. 

“It’s your favorite! It’ll help you loosen up!” She yelled over the loud music. 

You took the shot from her hand and clinked it against the one she held in her own before the both of you simultaneously drank. Your face scrunched in disgust. Tequila was not your favorite but it was effective. 

After splitting a full sized mixed drink with your friend you did seem to feel a bit more relaxed. You weren’t buzzed, let alone drunk by any means, but the drinks did help in taking away the impending anxiety. However, Luna was a bit of a lightweight and you could already tell she was feeling her alcohol by the way she danced. 

“Stay here, I’ll be right back!” You told Luna, leaving her on the dance floor to return to the bar to get another drink. After this one you’d cut her off. Upon reaching the bar you accidentally bumped into someone. 

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t see you there.” The man steadied you with a hand on the small of your back. He simply smiled at you with a shake of his head. 

“Don’t worry about it!” He told you. His voice was deep and when you looked up to meet his gaze your eyes widened. He was easily one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. The way his blonde hair framed his freckled face had you mesmerized. His smile was so warm. You pulled your eyes away from him before he thought you had been staring too long. You nodded as if silently apologizing again and turned to order your drink. 

You quickly retreated back to find Luna after getting your order. You found her on the dance floor, talking to a guy. She was always outgoing, but got even more friendly when she drank. You stood next to her observing the man, he actually seemed nice, he wasn’t giving off any creepy vibes and was genuinely interested in their conversation. It didn’t take long for Luna to notice you by her side, “oh this is my bestest friend EVER! Isn’t she hot?!” Your face flushed, did she really just? 

The man laughed at your horrified expression at your friend’s question. You face palmed in response. The three of you continued with casual conversation, you eventually found out the man’s name was Chan. After a few minutes you excused yourself to go to the restroom. When you got back, Luna and Chan were dancing. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands on her waist. You didn’t want to intrude and act as a third wheel so you kind of just stood awkwardly a distance away. 

Little did you know a certain blonde man was eyeing you from his seat at the bar. As if in a movie, the crowd of people parted and you turned to meet his gaze for the second time that night. The lights in the bar started flashing to match the beat of the music, the beginning of ‘Carnival’ starting to play. A smirk played on his lips as he finished his glass of whiskey. He got up and made his way over to you. 

“Wanna dance?” He leaned down slightly to whisper in your ear. How could you say no to him? You wordlessly responded to him by pulling him closer and swaying your body to the music. You could smell his cologne and the alcohol on his breath. He himself was intoxicating by his presence alone. 

“What’s your name, Angel?” He asked as his hands caressed your sides. 

“Y/n, what’s yours?” 

“That’s such a pretty name. I’m Felix, nice to meet you, gorgeous!” He kissed your cheek. Your body stilled for a split second as a blush creeped up. 

Do Australians normally greet like this or is he just bold? Maybe he’s drunk? 

He asked a few more questions to get to know you a bit better and in turn you got to know him. You found out that Sydney is his hometown, he’s 23, and he came here with his friend, Chan. You told him that your friend, Luna is currently off somewhere dancing with Chan. You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve had such a good time getting to know another guy. You felt comfortable with Felix to say the least. 

What would he say if he saw you with another man? Thoughts of your ex popped into your mind again. You quickly pushed those thoughts aside not wanting to ruin the moment. 

Another song that you particularly loved came on and you turned around to dance on Felix. Now you were the one being bold. Felix was pleasantly surprised and took the opportunity to put his hands on your hips to dance with you. The sensual tension between you two had increased as the song went on. Felix placed his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder laying a gentle kiss there as he breathed you in. You reached a hand back to run through his soft hair. 

The night continued into the wee hours of the morning. You and Felix had built plenty of tension in the time you had danced together. You had realized it had been a while since you checked on Luna. As much as you didn’t want to stop dancing with Felix you needed to check on your friend. You excused yourself from his hold to find her practically hanging onto Chan. 

“Oh my god, Chan I am so sorry! Luna, how much more did you drink?” You apologized to the man and took your friend from his hold to stand her up straight. All she could do was smile and laugh. Her pupils were blown wide, definitely a sign she was drunk. She stumbled back, but Chan helped you steady her. 

“She only had one other drink after you left.” Chan told you. 

“Dammit, Luna, I told you no more! Come on, we're going home.” You told her while holding onto her upper arm. 

“We can help you!” You heard two voices instead of just one. You looked over to see Felix coming to stand next to Chan. You raised an eyebrow at the both of them. 

“It’s fine, it’s only a short walk from here.” You stated. 

“You walked here and you think she’ll be able to walk back?” Chan questioned while pointing at your ill-balanced friend. 

He had a point. They both seemed nice enough and trustworthy so you took them up on the offer. 

The four of you made it out of the bar. You tried getting Luna to walk straight but it proved fruitless as she kept tripping. Chan took Luna from your hold and hoisted her up to carry her on his back. Luna screamed and laughed at first in her drunken state. You watched as your friend was having such a good time getting a simple piggyback ride. Chan was playing into it, twirling in circles every once in a while and running ahead with the biggest smile on his face. You couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics. 

Felix was walking right next to you brushing the back of his hand against yours. He kept quiet most of the walk back but would give you a reassuring smile when you looked his way. You’d soon realize he was keeping an eye on the surroundings making sure your little group was safe. 

A short bit later, you all had reached the house you and Luna were staying at. You unlocked the door and ushered the others in before you. 

“Do you mind carrying her to her room, Chan? It’s down the hallway on the right.”

“Sure thing.” He kept her on his back and made his way to her room. You could hear her squeal once he dropped her down on the bed. Chan made his way back out to the living room to meet back up with you and Felix. 

“Pretty sure she’s going to pass out any second now.” Chan said. 

“Thanks again, Chan and Felix for walking us back.” You were grateful for their help.

“Ah shit…” Felix whispered while looking at his phone, “All the ride shares are offline right now. Guess we’re hoofing it, Chan.” He patted the older man’s shoulder as they turned towards the door getting ready to leave. 

“Wait! It’s like 3am, how far do you guys have to walk?” You asked concerned.

“Probably like an hour walk at least. Wouldn’t you think?” Felix looked at Chan, he nodded his head to confirm. 

“Absolutely not, you guys are staying here until you can get a ride.” You said matter of factly. 

The boys looked at each other for a moment then back at you. 

“It’s really no big deal, we can-“ Chan started,

“No, no I insist. It’s the least I can offer for getting us back safe.” You interrupted. 

They put their hands up in defeat. You let them know they could make themselves comfortable on the couch and that you’d be in your room if they needed anything. 

Normally, you wouldn’t have even let two men you just met at a bar come into your makeshift home but you were on vacation, they were nice, and you needed help with Luna. 

You went into the shared bathroom to brush your teeth and change into your sleep shorts and top before settling into your room. You kept your door open in case the boys or Luna called out for you. A few minutes had passed and you were sat on the bed brushing out your hair when you heard a knock on the doorframe. It was Felix. 

“Sorry to intrude, I was feeling kind of lonely since Chan fell asleep on me out there. Mind if I come in?” He seemed shy all of a sudden. You offered a soft smile and pat a spot on the bed for him to come sit. He came over to sit at the edge and looked at you sheepishly. 

“I think we’ll be here until sunrise when the ride shares are operational again.” He admitted.

“That’s okay, you guys are more than welcome to stay.” You reiterated while continuing brushing your hair. 

Felix was silent for a moment just admiring you. You got up after a while to get some makeup wipes to clean your face. He followed your movements, watching the way your top rid up slightly to show off the dimples on your back. 

“How come I’ve never seen you around here before?” He finally asked. 

“Luna and I aren’t from here, we came to visit for a getaway.” 

“A getaway? Like a vacation?” 

“You could say that. She was tired of me ‘rotting’ after my breakup.” You were truthful with him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” He apologized.

“Don’t be, it’s been 6 months and I need to get over it. Easier said than done though.” You sighed as you got back on the bed, sitting crisscrossed with your back against the headboard. Felix seemed more relaxed now and sat opposite you in the same position. 

“Is that why you seemed distant at times tonight?”  His inquiry made you slightly cringe.

“You noticed, huh?” 

“How could I not? You would tense up and stare into space randomly while we danced.” He gave a light chuckle. 

“My ex just plagues my mind sometimes. I wish I could get him out of my head.” You averted your eyes and shook your head. 

“I can help you with that… if you want.” He proposed. Your face twisted in confusion, you had no idea what he was even offering. 

“How?” 

He approached you slowly and leaned in giving you ample opportunity to move away but you didn’t.

“By making you forget,” he said while brushing his lips against yours. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up into his brown eyes. All you could do was nod your head and then he fully connected your mouths. All the tension that had been building throughout the night had led up to this moment. Finally kissing Felix felt so right, it sent sparks throughout your body. 

His hands came up to cup either side of your jaw, his thumbs rubbing over the apples of your cheeks as the kiss deepened. One hand trailed down to your neck giving an experimental squeeze, not enough to choke you but it still elicited a gasp to escape you. Felix took the chance to push his tongue into your mouth and you welcomed it gladly. Already your mind was becoming fuzzy from just kissing him, you couldn’t imagine how else he’d make you feel. 

Felix moved your body down to a more comfortable position as he trailed open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. His hands moved under your shirt caressing the skin on your waist. 

“Can I take this off, Angel?” He asked in a low sultry voice. You nodded. 

“Words, Angel. I have to hear you say it.” 

“Yes, please,” you whispered.

“Good girl.” He praised before removing your shirt. You didn’t wear a bra to bed normally so your breasts were on full display for him. He leaned back taking in the sight of you. Felix had been staring so long you began getting self-conscious and covering yourself up with your hands, but he stopped you before you could. 

“Don’t hide this beautiful body from me.” He kissed your knuckles then returned to kissing down your throat and collarbone. He cupped your breasts in his hands and squeezed them simultaneously, feeling your nipples harden under his palm. You arched your chest trying to get his hands impossibly closer, but he pulled one hand away quickly replacing it with his mouth. He gave a harsh suck, making you moan out softly. Felix continued his actions, giving the same attention to your other nipple. 

You laid helpless to his mouth’s attacks under him as you reached up playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Felix continued his descent down your body nipping, kissing, and sucking down your tummy and not forgetting to pay attention to your hips too. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your soft sleep shorts and dragged them down your thighs, off of your legs. He was now left staring at your panty covered core. You lifted your legs so your knees were pressing up against your chest. Presenting your cunt to him. 

Suddenly, Felix took off his shirt before grabbing your thighs roughly and dragging your body down to the edge of the bed where he kneeled to be face to face with your center. His left hand rubbed the underside of your thighs and your ass as his right hand pulled your panties to the side. A string of your wetness connecting to the fabric of the undergarments. 

“Mm you’re practically dripping. I’m going to enjoy making you a mess.” His voice was somehow deeper as he spoke and that alone made your hole clench around nothing. Felix kissed along your right inner thigh, stopping to blow air over your clit, then going to kiss your left thigh. The sensations were making you squirm. 

“Felix, p-please,” you whimpered. As if answering your pleading, he flattened his tongue against your cunt licking a long fat stripe from your entrance to your clit before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking. This caused your back to arch off of the bed and a rather loud moan to rip from your throat. Felix detached his lips from your clit to shove his tongue in your pussy. His tongue was covered in your slick as he fucked it into your hole. Your juices covering his lower face and dripping down his chin as you gushed. Maybe he should have put a towel down with how wet you were getting, but it’s too late for that now. Felix retracted his tongue so he could focus on swirling it around your bundle of nerves. You could feel your abdomen tighten as your impending orgasm was washing over you. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your vision went white for a few seconds. Felix practically sucked your pussy clean with lewd wet sounds filling the room. 

You were still coming down from your high as he stood to his feet and quickly did away with his pants. You were finally able to see Felix in all his glory. Toned abs and thighs, his body was breathtaking, his cock even prettier as it was erect at attention. You went to push your panties down but he stopped you. 

“Leave them on, you look good in them, Angel,” he admitted with a smirk. 

You did as he wished, leaving them on. You had relaxed fully on the bed as he got on his knees between your legs. Felix reached over you to grab a pillow from the head of the bed and placed it in front of his thighs. He then grabbed your hips pulling you down so your ass was in his lap and your lower back was supported by the pillow. You propped your legs up on either side of him as you felt he’d be keeping you in this position for a while. Felix took his cock in one hand, pumping it slowly while his other hand came to rub over your pussy. He gave it a couple of light taps with his fingers making your body jolt from the slight overstimulation. Your body is still sensitive from the orgasm his mouth gave you. 

“Hnn c’mon just fuck me already.” You were getting impatient as your neediness grew. 

“Patience, Angel. I’ll give you what you need.” 

His hand adjusted your panties making sure they’d stay in place at the side. Then he placed two of his fingers at your entrance pushing them in agonizingly slow before pulling them back out slightly, making a whimper leave your lips. Felix picked up the pace pumping his fingers into you in synchrony with pumping his cock. He was scissoring you open, prepping you for the stretch of his cock. The way your moans became more whiney coupled with your cunt clenching around his fingers he knew you were about to cum again. 

“I can feel your body, you’re gonna cum again aren’t you?” 

“Y-yes! Please lemme cum, wan’ cum for you,” you babbled out as your hips bucked onto his fingers. Felix kept fingering you, hitting that gummy spot that drove you crazy. He got you so close, right to the edge before he pulled his fingers out. Effectively ruining your orgasm. You whined out in protest. Your high gone from grasp. All you could think about was wanting him to get you there again, to take your body over and over again. 

Right before you could complain about needing to cum, Felix was rubbing his cock through your wet folds. 

“Hmm, your pussy is s’ pretty. All soaked for me. You’re gonna take my cock so well aren’t you, Angel?” He looked into your eyes as his tip was pressing to your hole, but not yet breaching entry. 

“Yeah, s’ well. All f’ you.” You were barely making coherent sentences anymore as if forgetting how to talk. Felix let out a dark chuckle, this is exactly how he wanted you. 

His cock finally pushed in and he gave his hips an experimental roll to make sure he was slotted deep within you. You moaned out at the stretch of his cock as the walls of your pussy engulfed his member completely. Felix gave you time to adjust as he picked up your legs that were previously at his sides to put them over his shoulders, landing gentle kisses to your calves to help you relax. After a bit he started thrusting into you at a slow and rhythmic pace. He swore under his breath at how good you felt while you struggled to keep your moaning under control so as to not wake your friends. The sounds of wet skin smacking against each other didn’t help either. 

Your hands reached out to grab at his legs underneath you and you couldn’t help but dig your nails into his thighs causing him to hiss in return. He steadily picked up the pace while reaching his hand down to rub at your clit. You let out a loud cry of pleasure and he quickly leaned over to capture your lips with his. Swallowing up the moans you were desperately trying to let out. Now that Felix had you somewhat muffled, his pace turned relentless. Pounding into your sopping cunt to hit that sweet spot, his balls smacking against your ass. You tried pulling away to catch your breath and let out your screams but he kept you in place. His arms on either side of your head and mouth slotted against yours. Drinking in every moan, whimper, and scream. Your legs started to shake and he felt your pussy clench hard around his cock as you came again that night. You had never had such a euphoric orgasm before, probably because he edged you. Felix finally removed his mouth from yours and quickly pulled his cock from your soaked hole. He fucked into his fist a few times before hot cum spurted out onto your stomach. His head leaned back as he let out a deep groan. 

You were still suffering from the aftershocks of your orgasm, breathing heavy and vision blurry. 

“Felix… oh, Felix.” Is all you could mutter out. 

He was panting but smiling wickedly as he looked down at you. 

“Yeah, keep saying my name, Angel. That’s all you need to know.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, proud of the delirious state he put you in. Felix got off of you to find something to clean you up with. He soon came back with a warm washcloth and wiped the sticky mess from between your thighs and his cum off of your tummy. He disposed of the soiled cloth then returned back to your bed. He smiled as he saw that you were already sound asleep. A job well done on his part. He climbed into bed, pulling your body up in a more comfortable position to cuddle in. Felix kissed your hair before nuzzling his face into your neck and passing out not too long after you. 

Morning came and the sun's rays shone through the window hitting your face. You stirred awake still in Felix’s hold. You could feel his soft snores fanning over your neck. The previous night’s scene replayed in your head making a blush apparent on your cheeks. You’ve never felt so completely satisfied as you did in this moment. Before you could daydream any longer you’d thought it’d be best to get up and check on your friend.

As you tried to sneakily get out of Felix’s grasp he pulled you back even closer to him. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He was awake and his morning voice was so deep you barely recognized it as Felix. 

“To put on clothes and check on Luna.” 

“She’s fine, Chan’s got her.” He said.

“Chan is probably still asleep too though.” You remarked. 

“Hm, good point. Just five more minutes at least. You’re so warm.” Felix pleaded. 

You couldn’t say no to him so you settled in for a few more minutes. You turned over to face him and tangled your legs together under the blanket. You and Felix admired each other in a comfortable silence. Felix started to lean towards your lips but you pulled back covering your mouth. 

“Nuh uh, I still have morning breath.” 

Felix let out a half-hearted laugh, “and I still have the taste of your pussy on my tongue, but you don’t see me complaining.” 

Your jaw dropped at his comment and you playfully hit his shoulder. 

“Don’t say shit like that!” You whisper-yelled.

“It’s true. Matter of fact, I could go for seconds.” He said before quickly disappearing under the duvet already yanking your panties down your legs, actually taking them off this time.

“Felix! No get up here, right no- ah!” A squeak left your lips as he kissed your clit.

“Well I need to kiss something since you won’t give me your mouth.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. Before you could protest again he got to work on essentially making out with your pussy. Your sweet moans like music to his ears. 

Damn this Australian man, he was going to be the death of you. 

Thank you for your lovely request anon. Hope it lived up to your expectations!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!

Taglist: @doitforbangchan

[imperiuswrecked]

Hey Anon, I don't give a single flying fuck what some Randos on Twitter believe about the Elena vs Tenoch situation. I only care about official statements, official reports, and making sure both sides are heard fairly, and if Elena comes forward with more to say then I'm gonna listen, but the latest thing she posted doesn't have any new information.

I'm not going to ignore the fact that for years people have been salivating like dogs for a single thing to hold against Tenoch and have been super fucking racist towards him and tried to destroy his career because he's a man of color who is outspoken against racism. So yeah, an accusation like this is their racist dream because they can now harass Tenoch under the guise of standing up for Elena but they don't care about either person.

People shouldn't be nasty towards either of them but they are, and both of them have been getting death threats and a ton of sexist or racist comments and insults.

Whether abuse happened or not, or whether this is a disagreement between Exes I don't know, and searching Twitter to understand more, I do see that Tenoch did support Elena in the past, and she responded nicely and defended Tenoch from racists, however Elena's negative comments towards Tenoch began only this year.

That still means nothing because whatever really happened in private, off line, between two adults is known between them only. Maybe Tenoch is lying, maybe Elena is lying, maybe there is truth there. Maybe Tenoch broke up with her bc he started to gain more popularity due to the WF movie and she felt like she was taken advantage of/abused/preyed on, maybe there was actual abuse she didn't want to speak about before, maybe he broke up with her bc he isn't looking for a long term committed relationship, maybe she broke up with him for her own reasons.

I. Don't. Know.

That is all speculation that doesn't explain anything. Tenoch claims that these accusations started months ago between their mutual friends, people who are friends with both of them not just on his or her side, and in private. Which means if there are legal proceedings going on then we will find out soon enough and if there isn't and they were trying to resolve this privately well, speaking about it on twitter won't resolve anything and it's guaranteed to have the outcome it did bc people online don't care about facts. Elena is free to post whatever she wants on Twitter, and if she has more to say/post then she will on her own time.

I've gotten a lot of Anons these past days and I'm not answering all of them.

I find it really disgusting that people are (once again) treating a ex-couple's issues like a online circus and judging either person, and the way the anti and pro NaShuri shippers have acted is super gross too. These are real people, fictional ships/characters and real people shouldn't be mixed up and acting like you can't ship something or enjoy fictional characters bc of what goes on in celebs lives is weird to me.

If people don't like Tenoch anymore or don't want to support him or watch his stuff or interact with his characters then that's fine and totally up to them.

Unless something new comes up from this situation then I'm moving on because I really do not care what goes on in Celebs personal lives.

[joemuggs]

Future's Passed

Apropos of a conversation I was having with my mate Bashford about his design visions, I dug up a couple of ramblings about futures past, from the WIRE, one from 2015 and one from 2016. More on this theme to follow....

👇🏻

Model 500

Digital Solutions

Metroplex LP / CD / Download

Can it be that a musician doing exactly the same as he was doing 30 years ago still sounds futuristic? Because for large sections of this album, Juan Atkins is making music that, bar a few aspects of finessing on the mixdown, could have come from the same sessions as 1985's Model 500 electro track “Night Drive (Thru Babylon)”. Though he has latterly shown he's still happy experimenting – take 2012's intensely psychedelic remix of Psychic Ills for RVNG Intl. – here, he is returning to the roots of his craft, much like his co-producer here Mike Banks, another Detroit originator who seems similarly satisfied with outsider status and immune to demands for aesthetic progression. And for large sections, it still sounds not like a capitulation but like visionary sonic fiction, and not in a kitschy way either. 

When, in 1990, the the film critic Philip French wrote that "nothing dates the past like its impressions of the future,” it was taken as a truism – and indeed by that year Atkins's early music was already starting to sound as archaic as Dr. Who in comparison to what was happening around it. I was in my mid-teens then, and to me electro as such meant the music of kids' TV soundbeds, or body-poppers in shopping arcades. With its robot voices and simple melodic hooks it sounded cute and silly, like a primitive prototype for the British rave music, the more serious-seeming and compositionally complex techno of Derrick May, or the more martial electro of Underground Resistance. The same applied when I discovered Kraftwerk and YMO soon after: in the white heat of the rave moment, they just sounded a bit rinky-dink, a bit novelty.

It took quite some time to start to understand the music's appeal. As I absorbed more of what came before and after those records – P-Funk and Throbbing Gristle, Drexciya and Wax Doctor – their place and their value became clearer. But I'd even go so far as to say that it wasn't until reading Kodwo Eshun's poetic analysis of “Night Drive” in More Brilliant than the Sun in 1998 and re-listening that I really felt the power of that track's modernity: the descriptions of “bachelormachines... rearing up on their hindquarters” and the voice as “a subliminal shadow that creeps along the skin, stalks you with its lightbreath” bringing it to life as a synaesthesic futureworld vision, not simply as a set of musical motifs or references. And once heard, that cyborg modernity couldn't be unheard: that track remains as startlingly capable of rewiring and rebooting the imagination now as ever. At that moment it became glaringly clear that the shock of the new doesn't actually have to be new. To use another popular statement, generally attributed to William Gibson, “the future's already here, it's just unevenly distributed”: and sometimes that future has to be winkled out from where it's folded into the past and present.

Since then, Detroit's 1980s electro has only become more contemporary as it is folded back in to the cultural fabric again and again from different directions: via the Glasgow hybrids spawned by the Club 69 and Rubadub hub via Rustie and the Numbers crew; via the ominpresence in 21st century culture of Daft Punk; via the electro diaspora of Miami bass, crunk, juke, jit, snap, baile funk, kuduro, hyphy, trap, club; via succeeding generations discovering the endless mysteries of Drexciya. Which leads us to a point where Atkins can deliver an album – his first in 16 years – that contains precisely no innovation, yet it can still sound like a distillation of modern elements from right across today's music, and like an elegant representation of a fast-changing technological society to boot.

Unlike Mind and Body, the last Model 500 album from 1999, which diverted into drum'n'bass and hip hop, everything from the classic Atkins sound is present and correct on every track: the robotic voices flatly intoning things about technology or consumer society (the Teutonic-sounding one on the title track being the most simultaneously hilarious and deathly serious example), the angelic vocoder voices in the background, the laser zaps and squacks as percussion, the syncopated 808 kickdrum subsonic foundation, the bulbous and shiny synth notes playing layered funk melodies in interplay with more discordant tone clusters. There are zippy tempos as on the opener “Control”, digital slow jams like “Electric Night” and “Encounter”, and one track that flicks between the two: “The Groove”, which provides the only obviously non-computerised sound of the album in the elegant prog rock guitar soloing in its half-speed sections. Rhythmically, even on the couple of tracks with a four-to-the-floor kick, it is always electro – which in fact means that it is always essentially funk.

It works not only because of its resonances in more recent musicians' work. It works because funk is still relevant to the proportions of the human body, to the speeds at which our limbs can move relative to one another. It works because a subsonic kickdrum still makes your innards tingle as it did whenever you first heard it. But it also works because that unevenly distributed future still needs visions like this for us to find it and parse it. It felt for a little while like the snowblindness of everything-available-all-at-once bitstorm information society meant that the future was on hold, and we were just immersed the infinite cultural past, and that the significance of different cultural movements was being eroded into a slew of undifferentiated nostalgia and marketing algorithm fodder. But as we barrel ever onward, precipitous inequalities and mind-frying volumes of information and all, it turns out that past visions of the future aren't so very dated at all. 

Gibson, McLuhan and the Detroit pioneers favourite Toffler can all look a bit silly, a bit naïve and jerry-rigged now – but they all can also be startlingly relevant, and you can still discover the shock of the new in them as in Atkins's music. In a time of cyborgs, drones, driverless cars and the infinite hall of mirrors of surveillance and social media, the future-shock thrill of taking a night drive through Babylon can be as bracing and ever, and so can the musical techniques for understanding what you see on that drive that were honed so long ago. While others might use vastly more complex computing power to try and musically interface with the present and future on a nano level, in fact that the simpler, clunkier, funkier patterns mapped out here might just have something even more profound to say about the fundamental relationships between us and our technological world, if you can feel and participate in their vision.

---

Various Artists

Star Wars Headspace

Hollywood Records CD / Download

Space Dimension Controller

Orange Melamine

Ninja Tune 2LP / CD / Download

Bwana

Capsule’s Pride

LuckyMe LP / Download

“If we view it as a kind of sociology of the future, rather than as literature,” wrote Alvin Toffler in his 1970 book Future Shock, “science fiction has immense value as a mind-stretching force for the creation of the habit of anticipation. Our children should be studying [it], not because these writers can tell them about rocket ships and time machines but, more important, because they can lead young minds through an imaginative exploration of the jungle of political, social, psychological, and ethical issues that will confront these children as adults.” 

As is well documented – most vividly in Kodwo Eshun's conception of “sonic fiction” – music, and especially club music, can be science fiction too. Each new generation encounters the musical environment as technological-imaginative space outside the quotidian thanks to the visual/social/chemical/durational/sonic assemblage of the dancefloor and associated spaces – and that too can lead minds through exploration of past, present and possible futures. Of course there are waves and shifts in how styles and techniques facilitate this, but none completely replaces those before: past sonic fictions – past futures – retain functional value and are continually re-incorporated into the circulating library of usable forms. Always, too, from the Mothership to Metalheadz to Mumdance , there are explicit sci-fi signifiers woven into the sound and vision.

This is done in the most glaring possible way in the Rick Rubin-compiled Star Wars Headspace album. Sound design and dialogue from the Star Wars franchise are sampled liberally through 15 tracks that span a large chunk of what currently works for North American ravers, from the crassest martial trap-rap-derived beats through thumping house to subtler and more psychedelically dense grooves by Flying Lotus, Shlohmo and Bonobo. There's a conspicuous lack of the Ed Banger / dubstep-derived hyper-compressed aggro you'd have expected even two or three years ago: mainstream EDM is getting funkier and more genial. Combined with the thickly-layered chirps, whistles, animal grunts and the jaunty kitsch of the dialogue snippets, this creates a deliriously infantile playhouse of sound.

Star Wars was never about any future: it set “long ago”, and built on Saturday matinee westerns, Buck Rodgers and George Lucas's “Hero With a Thousand Faces”-derived belief in eternal narrative archetypes. And its sounds as much as its iconography have achieved a depth and breadth of penetration into the collective unconscious that goes way beyond modernism or retro: unless you have lived in extraordinary isolation for decades, noises like the chirrups of the R2-D2 droid which form motifs in this record are like Proustian keys to the fantastical. So the most fratboy-friendly rhythms here, from GTA and Baauer, take on a psychedelically transporting quality just as much as do the humid complexities of FlyLo; in this context Rustie's typically deranged “EWOK PUMPP” feels absolutely at home, even emblematic of the project. And among all this Rubin himself makes a deliciously naïve attempt at zippy techno in “NR-G7”, against all odds ending up sounding like Ozric Tentacles's rave offshoot Eat Static. It might be silly, but this album is much more than a cynical franchise tie-in: it's a explicit, deliberate opening up of 2016's most commercial rave music to mythic space.

Young Northern Irish producer Space Dimension Controller, as you'd probably guess from the name, is well versed in musical sci-fi, with Parliament, Drexciya, Jonzun Crew as standard reference points. His lo-fi Orange Melamine side-project, though, is about something far more esoteric. If the Star Wars album reaches to a collective mythic space shared by billions through decades, Orange Melamine opens up a tiny trapdoor to a cultish communal dreamworld around the turn of the millennium where internet and music culture first began to seriously create their own forms. It's the sound of third-generation copies of animes and UFO conspiracy VHS tapes (present here as sampled dialogue) arriving in the post after newsgroup discussions, of swapping obscurities by Team Doyobi, Req, Oval, MDK with strangers across the world on Audiogalaxy, of lo-res RealPlayer rips, of falling down rabbitholes on alt.culture messageboards. The braindance, illbient, outsider rap and indietronica evoked here was already humming with the broken rave nostalgia that would later be codified by Burial and hauntological thinking – as well as the shimmering dissipated data global collages of cloud rap, vaporwave and other waves of digital culture to come. Its reference points might be hyperspecific, but this too opens out into a wide imaginative world.

In the interzone between these two is Toronto techno producer Bwana's 43-minute love letter to Akira, the 1988 cyberpunk anime of psychic bikers and apocalyptic visions set in 2019 “Neo-Tokyo”. This movie sits in the midpoint between Orange Melamine's occulted cultural reference points and the near-universality of Star Wars: within club and rave culture, it's such a late-night staple that its sounds and rhythms – and the strange cadences of American actors dubbing their lines to Japanese speech rhythms – are woven into the very neurons of generations by repetition within the nightlife ritual. On this album which interpolates film dialogue and music, even the sound of the characters' names – Kay, Kaneda, Tetsuo, Akira – become incantations of, and ways into, the movie's fever-dream future. 

The music, which is realised in the highest definition, crisper and glossier even than the big-money EDM of the Star Warsalbum, has ripples of Rimini and Dusseldorf of the 1970s, Hollywood of the 1980s, London of the 2000s, Atlanta of the 2010s, but mostly it is just techno: not exactly ahistorical or from a non-place, but certainly cut loose from spatial-temporal specifics. Techno has never been about the future, it always pooled together futures past – P-Funk, Blade Runner, Toffler, Kraftwerk – to build a generalised future dreamtime into its sound: that Tofflerian “habit of anticipation” coded as rhythmic psychedelia. Techno as expressed on this album is no more retro or dated than watching Akira after a night out is rendered obsolete by Metal Gear Solid. We are now in Toffler's future – deep into the uncanny valley of laser surgery, virtual reality, gene editing, drones, machine learning, mind reading, microsecond-sensitive global trading, face transplants, our neighbouring planet being populated by robots, meme culture, Anonymous, Kanye West – and occasionally it's desirable, even essential, to revisit those old tools and “mind-stretching forces”.

[scotianostra]

Birthday Musician Finley Quaye, born 25th March 1974, Edinburgh.

Quaye comes from a musical background with Ghanaian lineage - his father was the jazz singer/pianist Cab Kaye, while his brother Caleb Quaye played guitar for Hookfoot and Elton John in the 70s, followed by a stint with Hall And Oates in the 80s. Quaye was raised in Manchester and on leaving school he returned to Edinburgh, where he worked as a paint sprayer, and often drove to Newcastle to attend gigs by artists such as 808 State and Soft Cell.

Moving back to Manchester, he embarked on a BTEC course in music and sound engineering, but did not complete his tuition. He briefly relocated to London where he joined the Donga Tribe and practised drumming. His aspirations towards a singing career began when he returned to Manchester, where he voiced a track for A Guy Called Gerald in one take. Shortly after the session, he returned to Edinburgh, where he unexpectedly heard the track on the radio, and subsequently began listening to dub music. His initial inspiration came from an unorthodox source, the New York-based avant-gardist John Zorn’s ‘Black Hole Dub’, although he was later inspired by more conventional performers.

Quaye recorded his first solo outing on a four-track tape, singing and playing drums, bass and guitar. In March 1997, he released the Ultra Stimulation EP, which demonstrated his diverse influences, including Charles Mingus, Jimi Hendrix and Bob Marley. He also embarked on the live circuit, debuting at Bristol’s Malcolm X centre, where he supported Luciano.

In June, he released ‘Sunday Shining’, which gave a nod to Bob Marley’s ‘Sun Is Shining’, as well as other reggae hits including Dennis Brown’s ‘Money In My Pocket’. The song, delivered in a style similar to that of a young Burning Spear, became his first UK chart hit and Quaye’s unique approach was much lauded by the critics. The promotional wheels were set in motion with appearances at the major summer festivals, including the Essential Roots Day alongside Everton Blender, Cocoa Tea and Anthony B. in Finsbury Park, London, and the release of his debut album. Further chart success followed with the singles ‘Even After All’, ‘It’s Great When We’re Together’, and ‘Your Love Gets Sweeter’, and he was voted Best Male Singer at the 1998 BRIT Awards.

I wish I could say Leither, Quaye had gone from strength to strength, but he has had a troubled life since then, appearing in several courts on various charges after unsavoury incidents, one was over an argument over Game Of Thrones.  He was once booed off stage halfway through a performance at a Madness festival in 1998, billed as a pre World Cup bash, Finley endeared himself to the English partisan audience by making derisory statements concerning the England football squad’s likely performance in the competition, just normal Scottish banter, but the English didn’t see it that way! 

In 2015 he played a gig in Gloucester, not turning up for the soundcheck, eventually the gig began at 9pm and Quaye started playing with his back to the audience, the gig promoter appeared and ended it, kicking him off stage telling the audience he had never seen a man act so unprofessionally and telling them he would refund their money. In 2019 he was ordered to carry out 200 hours of unpaid work for punching a bar manager and threatening to stab him during an unprovoked drunken attack.

He was convicted of  of criminal damage after he admitted throwing sign through a bus door during a row over a fare that happened in 2020. 

He is back was back on stage a couple of years ago, as he celebrates the 25th Anniversary of his double-platinum debut album Maverick A Strike at Edinburgh’s Liquid Rooms on Wednesday 1st June and Glasgow’s Oran Mor on Thursday 2nd June 2022, he is also playing The Garage, London on May 27th.

I've not found a lot oof Finley lately, I hope he is well, I guess he does struggle with his mental health, like I do and\many more of us.

[stellarsalad]

This thing on?

Hello! Uh... this is a test post.

I'd like to say that I'm not a robot. And while I can't prove this, here's some statements I don't think a robot could come up with:

While Steely Dan may not have a best album, they have likely never made a bad album. Can't Buy A Thrill did nothing for me when I listened to it all, though. (However, Reelin' In The Years is great, and Do It Again is a thoroughly impeccable song. It's a song I knew for years, but it's the one that finally got me into the band.)

Countdown To Ecstasy is very, very good, and while I wouldn't call it a no-skip, no songs on it are ones I dislike. My Old School is awesome and the Dan's most accessible song, and unless you're like me (your parents played them a lot as a kid so they grew on you hereditarily) it's the song I would share with you as an introduction to them. (Unless you're my composer friend, in which case I would play you the title track of Aja first.) Other highlights I love are Bodhisattva and Show Biz Kids. (I don't know if Rent would exist if Jonathan Larson had listened to Show Biz Kids.)

I have barely listened to Pretzel Logic at all. I've never really liked Rikki Don't Lose That Number, but Any Major Dude Will Tell You is pretty great and maybe their sweetest song. Which is very valuable from a band that by and large revels in cynicism and seediness.

I also have barely listened to Katy Lied, probably because Everyone's Gone To The Movies is scaring me away from it. But Black Friday slaps, and I discovered Doctor Wu a couple days ago and liked it immediately.

The Royal Scam is pretty guitar-heavy. Kid Charlemagne and the title track feel like siblings musically and both are excellent. The Caves Of Altamira and Don't Take Me Alive are both great too - but I think my favorite from it is Everything You Did. It's a surprisingly strong earworm, and "turn up the Eagles, the neighbors are listening" is just too funny for me. (I also have Eagles thoughts! Hotel California sucks but otherwise they are a good band.)

Aja... yeah, this kind of is their masterpiece, I gotta admit. I still haven't gotten into I Got The News and I still don't like Josie much, but the rest of the album is so, so great. I got into the title track most recently, and the instrumentation of it just feels so epic. But Deacon Blues... is the song that, when I first heard it, turned me from a Do It Again enjoyer into someone who wanted to listen to more Steely Dan. And yet, Home At Last is probably my favorite song from Aja. Aja is an album that still has some of the Dan's cynicism, but Aja and Home At Last are both very earnest songs that make me feel things.

But Gaucho... aw yeah. Gaucho is just as good as Aja if not better. I don't understand how such a chill album can absolutely go so hard. Yacht rock is a term I enjoy using derisively (like 'butt rock', but not like nu metal, a genre I do have legit admiration for)

Babylon Sisters: my dad loves this song. I hated it until I was twenty. And then once I got into the title track I finally had to admit that Babylon Sisters was good. Because I finally appreciated it. Especially the coda.

I am getting closer and closer to giving Hey Nineteen another chance, but right now it just feels TOO seedy and sleazy for me. Yes, I understand that the Dan's stories are almost never aspirational narratives. Still, tho. I need a little bit longer to get used to it.

Glamour Profession: speaking of narratives that are not aspirational, I heard the joke once of "the moral of Gaucho is that drugs and adultery are awesome" and Glamour Profession is very high on the drugs axis. To quote Layer Cake, "I'm not a gangster. I'm a businessman whose commodity happens to be cocaine." Anyway this song rules. Hoops McCann is an awesome name.

Gaucho: This is definitely the last straw that got me into Steely Dan for good. This song is so good it convinced my dad Donald Fagen was gay. The lyrics are awesome. All I know about the gaucho in this song is that he's sexy as hell, so why wouldn't your husband want to cheat on you with him? Would you like to do the same? Also, have a thoroughly beautiful instrumental bridge that shows you the beautiful world and brings you crashing back down to reality.

Time Out Of Mind: how is a song both relaxing and exciting. this whole album is yacht rock done to perfection. no other album-length example of the genre will ever be this good, sorry Christopher Cross. oh yeah, the lyrics are about drugs again lol. ft. Mark Knopfler!... for like 40 seconds? eh well, glad to have him here

My Rival: This song is confusing to me lyrically about what it's about but it's still great. I think this is the other song on Gaucho that could have convinced my dad that Donald Fagen (or Walter Becker) was gay

Third World Man: haven't listened much, too mellow for me so far.

The Second Arrangement: yeah, that's right. This song slaps and would have fit flawlessly on Gaucho as another track on the adultery axis. gosh, if Gaucho was a double album... if only, if only.

I have barely heard Two Against Nature (I'd have chosen Midnite Vultures to win AOTY instead and The Marshall Mathers LP should probably have won out of the nominees for cultural impact, and Cousin Dupree is a bit much for me to listen to it yet) or Everything Must Go (Godwhacker is pretty good tho).

anyway, Steely Dan is a great band. Thank you for reading! This was fun to write, maybe I'll do this more.

[lokiskitten]

hiii can you please do tom as dad's best friend/co-worker where they finally meet each other in her dad's office? and that y/n dad have to take an urgen flight trip thats why he needed tom to look after y/n for a couple of days. lots of sexual tension and dirty talk! (also age gap if that's alright with you?) 😌 make it real smutty and kinky u know the drill :) ty!!

Tom Hiddleston | unique babysitter

Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

plot : being a single father, your dad has no choice but to leave you at home with a friend after he has been called for an urgent business travel. Surprisingly enough, you manage to end up enjoying Tom’s exhilarating company.

warnings : smut, age gap, dirty talking, slight dub/con, virgin!reader, innocence kink, dry humping, unprotected sex, slight after care and cuddling.

Around a week ago, your dad had finally agreed to take you to his office in order for you to discover his job. You had never really understood the way he made a living, and it had therefore been the occasion for you to get to learn more about his work whilst earning the chance to spend some extra time with him. Ever since your mom had left, you had allowed yourself to drift away from your father- an unwilling habit which had brought harm to the two of you throughout the years. But now was your chance to do better by supporting the older man through his daily life and by letting him know that he was not alone. Though, your little trip to his office had allowed you to meet with one of his closest coworkers : a so called Tom Hiddleston.

The man worked at the desk next to your dad’s, which allowed you to get a good view of his friend whilst they both worked. The room remained silent- the sounds of the keyboards being put to good use offering a pretty symphony. Your orbs would sometimes divert towards the infamous older man, feeling your cheeks heat up whenever his blue eyes would take notice of your stares and look up at you- leading your embarrassed self to look away. From the corner of your eyes, you could tell that this gesture had amused him due to the way his lips seemed to curl up whilst his chest bobbed upwards gently. Your hands fidgeted together, this little game lasting through the entire afternoon until it was finally time for you and your father to go home. But even after disappearing from one another’s sight, none of you appeared to forget about the other.

The next day, your dad had announced to you that he would be forced to leave for a couple of days due to an important business offer he simply couldn’t push away. At first, you felt okay with it... until this one added up that his coworker and friend, Tom, would be in charge of taking care of you for the few upcoming days. This stroke anxiety within your heart. The man you had desperately stared at for hours yesterday would now be assigned as your babysitter? The thought of getting to spend time alone with him was surely exciting, but also intimidating. Therefore, you decided to use arguments in order to dodge your father’s announcement, and potentially call off this whole babysitter issue which you believed was unnecessary for a girl such as you.

The first argument you decide to pull up was the fact that you were eighteen, and therefore not in need of a babysitter anymore. You could take care of yourself, which you did whenever your father was at work. But to the older man, this wasn’t the issue. He felt pleased to remind you what had happened the last time he had trusted you to be alone for a couple of days, and you had no choice but to remain silent face to his prominent argument, and your lack of snap back. Even though you could’ve probably explained that this event took place a couple of years back, and that you were now a legal adult to society, you decided to submit to your father’s announcement and decision.

Coming back to the present, you were currently sat in the living room whilst waiting for Tom to arrive. Your father had left a couple of minutes ago already, as he didn’t wish to miss his plane due to his coworker being late- who he trusted in taking good care of you. But little did he know, the older man would do much more than simply cook dinner for the two of you before tucking you in for a good night of sleep. When the bell finally rang, your head diverted towards the door in a hurry before your whole silhouette made an effort to get up from the sofa in order to reach for the entry of your home. Nervously, your hand took ahold of the handle before twisting it and allowing the door to open, revealing your dad’s smily coworker. “Good evening, Princess. I’m sorry I’m late.” He affirmed as your eyes slowly slid down towards the postman bag he carried on his right shoulder.

Face to your prolonged silence, he decided to step in one more time. “May I come in?” Tom asked, hoping that this sentence would manage to pull you out of your thoughts. And it did. “Oh yes, sure. I’m sorry...” You responded, an awkward chuckle escaping your lips as you moved to the side in order to let the older man step inside of your house. As soon as Tom laid a foot of onto the floor of your home, you felt a rather uncomfortable sensation take over your organism. It was a mix of excitement- that due to his handsomeness and attractive aura- and anxiety. A single pressure applied on the door was enough to have it close, trapping the two of you inside of the construction. And from that point, things progressively started to get more risky.

If Tom had agreed to sit down at the living room’s table to work at first, he soon caught interest in your silhouette and the things your curves could potentially offer him. During the first evening you spent together, things remained rather quiet and calm. All he did was look at you from the corner of his eye once in a while, and so did you whenever you felt like allowing your hormones to win over your good sense. You had been the one to cook dinner, and the older man hadn’t stopped praising the meal you had taken time to prepare whilst he worked. You got the chance to listen to a few of his personal informations- such as his nice lifestyle as a single man who enjoyed cooking for himself, as a hobby. Tom even promised to be the chief tomorrow evening, a bargain which led you to feel more comfortable in his presence.

The next day was when you finally started to feel more comfortable about your father’s coworker living in your house. You didn’t get to see him during the day due to college, but coming back in the evening knowing you would be able to spend time with the older man never failed to make you feel excited. Tom had progressively let go of his work, claiming he had taken a one week remunerated break in order to spend some extra time with you. The days went along, and you found yourself skipping class as well to attend the man’s offers about going out to various places. Calling your dad to check up on him wasn’t a priority anymore, which easily led you to bump into multiple missed calls when you finally made your way back up to your room after spending a day with his friend.

On this delightful Friday evening, you had been given the honor to taste Tom’s most famous recipe : bolognese. The dinner went on wonderfully, and you soon found yourself bloated with sauce and pasta- a visual proof that you had indeed enjoyed the meal he had prepared. Wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin, Tom’s blue orbs stared at your exhausted self who still tried to recover from the amount of food you had previously ingested. It had exhaust you. “I guess I won’t be asking you how it went, seeing the emptiness of your plate.” He affirmed with a chuckle before reaching out for both of your stained yet empty plates in order to carry them until the sink. Shifting in your seat, you allowed your vision to divert away from your guest for a moment- which Tom didn’t fail to notice.

With a smirk appearing on the corner of his lips, the man proceeded to rest the plates down on the workspace before silently making his way back to you, sitting down in the chair which was positioned next to yours before leaning in and allowing his lips to collide with your neck. You obviously reacted face to this unexpected sensation, body shaking just so slightly as you tiredly leant backwards in order to break the contact. “What? What are you doing?” You asked awkwardly, earning an amused smile from the older man. His hand travelled up to your hair, blue orbs following his own gesture as he brushed a strand behind your ear. “Just treating you the way you deserve. You’re a grown woman after all, aren’t you? And adults communicate with one another.” He purred seductively, those few words sending chills down your spine.

“So I’m letting you know... I want you.” He finished, hand still toying with your hair as both your heart and mind fell apart on the instant. Had you heard that right? Was your father’s friend truly offering you to hookup under his coworker’s own roof- a man who had given him his trust to look after his only daughter? But the will to rebel and prove to the world that you weren’t a child anymore turned out to be stronger then your good sense and the respect you held for your dad. Your cheeks heated up as you made eye contact with Tom again, a welcoming smile appearing his lips which led you to fall for him even more. “Okay...” you responded to his previous statement in an awkward manner, leading the adult’s smile to intensify. “Okay.” He repeated happily, hand sliding down to your thigh in order to take ahold of yours.

Tom easily managed to get you to stand up, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs as his thumb gently rubbed against the back of your hand. Again, you felt excited yet anxious- still questioning whether yes or not you should give in his certainly appetizing offer. But before you knew it, the older man had managed to reach your father’s room- the room Tom had been occupying throughout the journey- which possessed a bigger bed for the two of you to enjoy. His first reflex was to turn on the lights before closing the door, those two gestures requiring for him to let go of your hand which allowed you to move closer to the bed without his help. “Ever done this before?” Tom asked empathetically as his silhouette turned towards yours, both his hands resting on his hips as if he was trying to contain certain pulsions.

Even if you felt ashamed of the answer you were about to give, you still trusted the man enough not to make fun of you nor make any degrading remarks about your sexual life. “Not really.” You answered as he moved closer to you, head bowed down to be able to make proper eye contact. “That’s okay.” He reassured, his hand moving up to your shoulder which he squeezed gently. “I’ll make sure to take good care of you.” Finished the male, his fingers now taking ahold of your chin only to lead your head to look up. Your lips aligned with his, his head slowly moving down towards yours until your closed mouths finally pressed against one another. This was the chastest kiss anyone had ever given you- which reinforced the feeling of safety you felt whenever it came to Tom. Though he quickly ended up softly breaking the contact in order to make sure you were okay.

You silently sucked in your bottom lip, as if you wanted to get some extra taste of his lips even after he had decided to break the kiss. Allowing your lower piece of rosy flesh to go, your orbs finally diverted upwards in order to make eye contact with the man who had just filled you with bliss. “I liked this.” You admitted, earning a smile from your partner. His hands travelled up to the first button of his shirt, progressively undoing the links until his bellybutton and abdominals were revealed to your innocent sight. Those assets made you shiver, and Tom could easily tell that you were too shy to step forward and lay your pretty hands onto his flesh. Smirking, the man dodged your silhouette in order to reach for the bed, removing his shirt through the process before allowing it to drop to the floor.

You watched silently as he sat down on the edge of the furniture, inviting you to take place beside him by laying gentle taps on the spot next to his thigh. Your submitted self obeyed, feet leading you towards your master until you finally took place beside him. “You’re such an obedient girl.” Tom praised, seemingly enjoying the way you agreed to follow all of his commands. An intimidated chuckle escaped your lips as his hand once again traveled up to your face, caressing your facial features and brushing your hair back in the loveliest manner. You couldn’t help but stare at his crouched abdominals, the way his skin formed muscular rolls for you to appreciate and praise. After all, it was the first time you ever saw a grown man bare chested in such an intimate situation.

“You want to remove a couple of layers? It’s the least we could do.” Tom offered gently, making sure to use the proper tone in order not to scare you off- and mostly in order to lead you to accept his proposition. Again, you agreed, standing up from the bed before removing your sweatshirt by pulling it over your head. Your bare breasts were revealed to his sight, though his blue orbs remained mainly focused on the skin of your waist and stomach. He found the bellybutton and stomach as a very attractive part of the female anatomy, and couldn’t potentially get enough of staring at this area of your body. Of course the grown man also felt grateful to be able to get a peak of your breasts- which he would make sure to cherish and praise later on.

His hands bluntly moved up to your waist as you took place between his legs, blue orbs still looking up at you before Tom allowed himself to lay a kiss onto your stomach. You abdominals contracted due to the small tingle you felt within you skin as the older man now took care of laying trails of gentle kisses down your belly. Looking down at him, you allowed your digits to travel up to his perfectly groomed hair before passing your fingers through the strands, messing up his mane in the softest manner. You were able to feel his lips perk upwards, indicating that your gestures were visibly making him smile. It reassured you to be aware of such a positive reaction.

After reaching the waistband of your joggers, Tom stopped himself through his track in order to take another look at your facial features- which in his humble opinion were perfect. Besides, spending time with someone who was younger than him somewhat sent the man back to his youthful days as well; which provided Tom a very blissful feeling. Without breaking eye contact, he began to unbuckle his belt before undoing the button of his jeans without even taking care of sliding the leather material out of the confines of his pants. Though he unfortunately found himself forced to look away after struggling to undo his button, your orbs still staring down towards his veiny hands which worked hard to reach their goal.

Once this step was finally over with, Tom placed a hand on your hip in order to gently move you backwards so that he could stand up from the bed. You could tell by his frustrated appearance that he seemingly couldn’t wait to end up in bed and fully naked with you. Though he always kept a reassuring smile on his face, even whilst pulling his jeans down to his ankle before stepping out of the piece of clothing. The grown man now stood in his briefs, feeling no form of shame nor embarrassment face to your younger self. Besides, there simply was nothing he could’ve potentially feel ashamed of. His body was perfect. A chuckle escaped his lips upon witnessing how clueless you appeared, a sight which could only make him feel more confident through the overall process.

“Well, kitten... there’s nothing you should be ashamed of. Real men are nothing like the boys you see at school.” He insisted, referring to how male teenagers often found many reasons to criticize the female anatomy and make young girls feel insecure. And his tone sounded extremely genuine- which was what led you to finally unleash your silhouette from all these pieces of clothings. You nodded silently, hands moving down to the waistband of your joggers before you slid the material down to your ankles. Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, you proceeded to remove the cloth from your ankles, now revealing your underwear to a rather eager Tom.

He jumped on this handy occasion to gracefully climb on the bed and lay down on the spot where he usually slept, waiting for you to be done and hand out the green flag like the gentleman that he is. Looking back at him, you once again felt your cheeks heat up due to crossing another line of the process. He smiled. “Don’t be shy. I want you.” Tom begged, arm extending towards your chest as an invitation for you to get closer- which you did. Now laying down next to each other, your hands rested against his chest as your bodies faced one another, feeling the warmth which emitted from his skin. He looked down at you, head leaning down and once again seeking for your lips before he was finally able to press them against yours.

You kissed back, now feeling more comfortable as his arms wrapped around your back in order to gently get himself on top of your body. You were consensually overcome by his much larger silhouette, one of your hands moving up to his shoulders as you carried on giving back what the man was generously offering you. As soon as grunts and low moans began to escape his lips, you could tell that things were about to move faster from this moment- legs spreading a little bit wider as you allowed the man to grind his hips against yours. You were able to feel his hardening member collide with and rub against your own clothed genitals- movements which soon led your entrance to leak juices and stains your panties.

“Look at you..” Tom began, breaking the kiss for a few seconds in order to catch his breath and finish his sentence. He was panting. “Legs already spread wide open for me.” The man stated, speaking nothing but obvious facts. You blushed. No one had ever spoken to you in such a way, and especially not on that specific tone which turned out to be quite exhilarating. Now moving his head down against the crook of your neck, you were able to feel warmth take over both your chest and crotch due to Tom still grinding his hips against yours. The movements stimulated your clit, sending chills down your spine and leading more love juice to leak out of your throbbing core. And even if the older man appeared more eager about the situation when it came to visuals, your soul was definitely suffocating with pleasure even if you remained slightly motionless and silent.

Sitting up on his knees, a smirking Tom made eye contact with you as he allowed himself to slide off your panties; taking them off your legs before carelessly dropping them to the side. Such a small piece of clothing certainly wouldn’t be a bother through your shared intercourse, which was the reason to why he decided not to pay much attention to where it landed. Besides, your father’s coworker felt too excited about what was to come to even care about such an irrelevant detail. You were panting, still trying to recover from this first contact which had left you damaged with pleasure and excitement. Though, little did you know, the real fun was only about to begin.

“My pretty girl’s got a pretty little cunt.” He praised, his fingers sticking together as he brought his hand down between your legs. You shivered, sucking in your bottom lip in anticipation to his upcoming touch. It would be the first time you would get touched by a man, by someone else than your own self. A part of you wondered how it was going to feel, though the second one couldn’t help but grow anxious and worried. However, before you could even think any further, you felt Tom’s fingertips collide with your sensitive core- sending chills down your spine and easily leading your hole to squeeze and contract. He chuckled, appreciating his good work and feeling satisfied about the way he managed to make you feel. Though, it wasn’t like Tom had ever disappointed a woman in bed before.

One of the older man’s hands landed beside your face, Tom holding himself up with the help of his left arm whilst his other hand took care of pleasing your core. His fingertips rubbed up and down your clit, sometimes pinching the hardened bud and manhandling it perfectly. His aim was to get your entrance to loosen up for him; and that especially after he took notice that you were a virgin. Tom wanted this intercourse to be pleasing for you too, and he was willing to use any tactic in order to help you to relax. His lips landed against yours again, trapping your moan within his cavity and pushing it back inside of your mouth with the help of his tongue penetrating your moist entry.

Once your moans began to get progressively higher pitched, Tom felt like it was now the right time to initiate you to the pleasures he was certainly going to provide you. Taking his soaked fingertips up to his lips, he allowed his tongue to taste the sweet juices before both his hands took ahold of the waistband of his briefs which was soon to be slid down to his mid thighs. You didn’t dare to look, eyes still staring at the ceiling until your view was blocked by your partner’s facial features. He smiled and you smiled back. “Well hello.” Teased the older man, a few words which easily led you to chuckle. In the position you two had adopted, you were able to feel his rocking hard shaft press against your clit- a sensation that didn’t fail to make you feel nervous.

“You ready, Princess?” Questioned your dad’s coworker, your legs immediately spreading a tad wider upon hearing those few words. Another kiss was laid on your lips, probably in order to distract you from the slight pain which was about to follow. And before you could know it, a warm mass was pressed against your cavity, soon penetrating your entrance and pushing past your hymen that broke on the instant. A high pitched groan escaped your lips which led Tom to intensify the kiss, his hips jumping on the occasion to move closer to yours until his cock had reached balls deep. Slowly pulling away from your face, his ocean blue orbs made eye contact with yours, analyzing your facial features in order to find out whether you were truly suffering or not.

“This is just temporary.” Promised the man, your entrance unwillingly clenching around his shaft which led him to let out a guttural moan. Taking his attention off you for a minute, Tom’s face looked down at your rubbing crotches- as if he wanted to make sure he was properly inside- before his head tilted upwards again. Noticing how you now appeared more relaxed, he was soon to begin the thrusting process- slow movements at first which progressively increased in pace with time. The friction created by the intercourse felt absolutely blissful- filling your soul with excitement and leading your heart to race. You were able to feel the muscle pump blood through your entire system as Tom continued to grind his hips against yours, happy grunts escaping his lips.

Both his arms slid underneath your shoulders, taking ahold of them in order to keep you more still through the pleasant process- and make it easier for him to thrust. Tom felt entirely satisfied with the situation that had taken place- taking notice of how you appeared to enjoy it too which could only make his member throb out of pleasure. Though his masculine ego still pushed him to check in order to receive a verbal confirmation. “You enjoyin’ this?” The man asked breathlessly, earning a single moan and nod from your exhilarated self. The man then proceeded to unexpectedly pull out, offering you no time to understand before you were flipped over onto your stomach. This once his hands landed on your bum, spreading your cheeks apart and admiring the way your entrance leaked with love juice. It looked extremely welcoming, and Tom was soon to step inside of your intimate home for the second time.

Feeling his cock penetrate you again brushed all of your worries away, eyelids shutting close as you began to be rocked back and forth against the bedsheets. Even without being able to see his face, you still managed to enjoy everything that Tom was providing you with on the instant. You could feel his pubic bone collide with your skin of your bum, your nipples perking up against the confines of the bedsheets. “Fuck baby.. So tight and juicy for me.” He praised, leaning down in order to offer your neck rough kisses and gentle bites. You moaned tiredly, rubbing your cheek against his like a cat would do against his owner’s legs. He had managed to take possession of your soul, and there was now only one way out.

Time passed, and Tom’s thrusts progressively began to grow sloppier. Being inexperienced, you couldn’t exactly tell that this indicated he was about to reach his high, though the way he appeared more tired and less energetic than before certainly gave you a clue regarding his state. Frowning out of exhaussement, the grown man was finally filled with temporary satisfaction upon sensing his shaft throb and pump semen out of his testicles in order to have the liquid spray out of his sensitive urethra. His semence stained your walls, giving no chance to the flesh of your cervix which was drowned in the thick liquid. You two moaned in harmony- this warm sensation providing you with one last bit of pleasure before your dad’s coworker agreed to pull out of you.

He collapsed on the bedsheets next to you, hand resting on his chest as he panted in order to recover from this intense moment. With the bit of energy that you had left, you managed to crawl until his silhouette in order to offer him a well needed hug, your arms burying against his ribcage as Tom was soon to turn to his side and secure your naked self with his large and muscular members. Feeling the warmth of his flesh in a whole other way still felt as satisfying as before, this cuddle providing you with as much happiness and bliss than the previous intercourse had.

Hullo thanks for reading! Thank you for liking and supporting my work. I genuinely hope you’re doing well! Take care.

Taglist : @theaudacitytowrite @bucky-soldat @winteralpine @fa-me @ineffablefanic @rosie-posie08 @marygut1407 @wildxwidow @tabea3 @delightfulheartdream @arzennn @sweetiepiexox-blog1 @alicegrayson @cherrygeek86 @lokilaufeysonicon @pescadoavocado

[bunnvlr]

♡︎𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧♡︎

♡︎Paring♡︎ ⋮ P!Ranboo x gn!reader

Warnings ⋮ paranormal activity, ranboo not wanting to come to confrontation

Request [Yes] [No] // I'm in the mood for angst

♡︎Summary♡︎ ⋮ Ranboo has to come to realization that what's Infront of him isn't always as it seems

To anyone else, Ranboo stared at the empty corner of his room. But to him, he stared at you. His best friend since you two were gremlins in diapers. 16 years strong you two had been by each other's side no matter what. Elementary, Junior High, and Highschool. The statement attached to each other's hip was an understatement.

"So how's the new book?" The blonde asked you. Closing the book you smiled at him. "You never disappoint." Setting the book to the side you looked at your hand shaking your head. "So tell me about you enough about me. I heard you've made some new friends." You changed the subject. Ranboo's eyes light up with excitement. He was glad you wanted to hear about them.

"Yeah, I did! Tommy and Tubbo! Also a bunch of others in the dsmp- oh yeah I started streaming too, it's going well!" You listened to Ranboo ramble on about his new friends. That same smile never left your face even if he was talking about something you. Honestly didn't understand.

Looking over at his cracked door you saw his mom. Her face was sad, one could say heartbroken looking at her son. You knew the reason why, but you couldn't. You couldn't bring yourself to tell your best friend, the one person who needed your support through everything. You couldn't shatter his heart beyond repair.

A knock was heard "Ranboo you there?" It was his mom. "Yeah in here along with Y/n!" He shouted not taking his eyes off his phone. His mother's heart sank at your name.

Shaking it off the blonde's mom opened the door peeking her head in. "Hey, you...two" she coughed. "Y/n your mom called she wants you home now." Ranboo's mother fiddled with the bottom of her shirt. You knew she was lying. But she had every reason to. Giving the boy's mom a nod you stood up. The look on Ranboo's face always hurt you. You only talked for a couple of hours a day then you have to go back "home"

Getting up Ranboo volunteered to walk you out the door. You told him you were fine but you should've known he wasn't going to take no for an answer. "See you tomorrow?" He asked hoping you would say yes. "I'll have to check in with my mom first you know I have to watch Annabelle." You patted him on the head walking out the door.

The male watched your figure disappear down the street before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Put on some shoes."

...

Ranboo sat in the passenger seat while his mom drove. He had asked where they were going, but he got no answer. She just told him you'll see when we get there. Turing down a road they drove further until they pulled Into a parking lot. Ranboo's mother took the key out of the ignition sighing. "Do you know where at?" She asked her son.

He shook his head no

Ranboo's mom tried hard to fight back the tears welling up in her eyes. "Come on."

Ranboo followed his mom out of the car as they walked down a pathway. It was illuminated with small lights so you wouldn't get lost. Flowers were all around them. Then it hit him.

They were at a grave site. Everything came flooding back at once. "No, no, no!" He shouted. "Ranboo come on-"

"no!"

"come on-"

"NO!"

Ranboo felt his head spinning as he got dizzy. "No-" he croaked. Tears streamed down his face hitting the ground. They're... they're not-" ranboo cut himself off breaking into another sob. "THEY'RE NOT DEAD!" Ranboo's mother looked at her son who was still in denial. Truth is you died 5 years ago. You had cancer and died in a car crash on your way to your first chemotherapy. You never got the chance to get better. You never saw those white hospital walls.

"I- I texted them today they-" Ranboo paused looking at the last message you had sent.

━━━━━━━━July 9,2016━━━━━━━━━

Y/n😎💅❤️:

On my way to Chemo wish me luck!

❤️

The memories of your funeral all came back to him. Your pale dead body, all the tears he shed. Ranboo clutched his phone in his hand. "They're gone Ranboo. The late-night call, talks, study sessions-" his mother paused. "Those never happened." Ranboo's mother finally let the tears stream down his face. "I know you miss them, I miss them too but, they're gone and there's nothing we can do about it." Her voice descended.

...

Ranboo stood alone in front of your grave sight. Your face on your gravestone and a small saying you'd say under it.

"If you're going to do it, go ahead don't be a bitch"

"I see you finally came." Ranboo spun around meeting you face to face. Your body was faded with a small glow around it. "Y/n?" You opened your arms. Ranboo didn't hesitate to run into your arms. This hug you gave wasn't the same. Your body was colder and he could barely feel himself touch you.

Like you weren't even there

Much as ranboo didn't want to let go he did. "I think I'm ready..." He mumbled. A smile crept onto your face. "Alright then."

...

Ranboo's mother watched as he made his way back to the car. "You ok?" She asked as he crawled him. "No, but it's for the best." He smiled. His mother squinted her eyes and the silver object around his neck. "What's that?"

Ranboo have his mother a confused look before touching his chest feeling something poke out. He traced the shape already know what it was.

"Nothing mom, nothing."

[wandaromanova]

Can u do a fic where fem!reader and Nat are broken up and they’re pretty hostile with each other but when one of them gets hurt on a mission they realize they’re still in love and get back together thank u if u write this :)))))))

I Love You

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, violence, that’s it i believe

A/N: hi! i hit 300 followers! i posted my very first story 3 weeks ago and only had like 10 followers then. i can’t even begin to express how grateful i am that i’ve been able to bring people joy (or pain lol) with my stories. thank you. not proofread. <3

Summary: Ex-lovers Natasha and Y/N dance around their feelings for each other. They decide that hostility was the best course of action.

Word Count: 2.5K

(gif is not mine)

You and Natasha dated for a year and a half before you guys decided to call it quits. It was a mutual agreement, but there was still some sort of bad blood between the both of you that was painfully obvious. The tension could be cut with a knife.

You guys were going great at first. You both understood each other on a level that no one else could. You would do typical couple things in order to compensate for the lack of stability and domesticity you’ve both had in your lives. Movie nights, designated date nights, cuddle sessions in the late hours of the night, and literally every other cliche there was in the book.

However, you and Natasha were both raised in similar environments. From young ages, you guys were trained to conceal your true emotions and that love was for children. So, communicating with one another was something that the both of you didn’t know how to do.

You didn’t try to communicate and neither did she; and there lied the problem. Natasha would absolutely freak on you if you so much as looked at another person. You would get upset if Natasha went on a mission without informing you first. There were so many pointless arguments that occurred between you and Natasha. Arguments that could’ve been avoided or solved if you guys were able to just talk to each other.

You would say that you guys did talk… just in a higher volume than normal conversation. The yelling between you both could be heard throughout the compound. Most times, you would get so fed up and tired from the arguing, that you didn’t even know why you guys were fighting anymore. It wasn’t healthy and you knew it.

You and Natasha never once told each other the big three words. That was a line neither of you dared to cross. Like the Red Room and The Academy taught you both, love was a weakness and was nothing more than a concept believed by children. You’d like to think that actions spoke louder than words, though.

You could feel the love between you both in the way you would hold onto one another after a mission had gone wrong. You could feel it in the way Natasha worried and panicked when you’d come back from a mission with so much as a scratch above your eyebrow. However, you still could not bring yourself to tell her how you felt. Not that it would matter now, considering you guys had broken up.

It’s been five months since the breakup, and at first your plan of action was to be civil with your ex-girlfriend, but she had other plans. Natasha would bark out snarky remarks whenever you would speak up during team meetings. She began to give you cold glares whenever you walked into a room. God forbid you would even breathe in her direction, she would storm out of a room at the speed of light if you did so.

So, you began to act the same way she was. Okay, yes, it was extremely childish thinking. You should be mature, regardless of how Natasha was treating you, but you couldn’t be civil anymore. So you would treat her just as harshly as she did you. You’d send her sharper glares than she would give you. You’d never listen to anything she had to add during mission meetings, being sure to make it obvious you weren’t paying attention. And you would always counter her hostile comments that were directed towards you.

The team was currently sat in a meeting. You and Natasha were meant to be sent on a mission together, to which you both immediately objected.

“Steve, do I really have to go with that over there? I’d rather go myself and risk dying than go with her.” Natasha pointed in your direction and you were immediately offended by her statement.

“No, I would rather go and die than have to hear one more word out of your god damn mouth. You’re such a bitch.” You spoke as you stood up from your seat, Natasha following suit. Natasha walked across the room and stopped in front of you. She harshly shoved a finger against your chest.

“What the fuck did you just call me? You better take it back before I make sure you never talk again.” Natasha glared at you intensely as she stared into your eyes. You returned her stare with a bored expression on your face.

“I said you’re a bitch. What are you going to do about it, Widow?” You asked her challengingly. Natasha moved to pounce on you, but Bucky, who was sitting next to your spot, sprung in and intervened.

“Let her go Barnes. I’d love to kick her ass.” You smirked as your words only enraged Natasha more. She struggled against Bucky’s grip, trying to free herself so she could pound your face into the floor, but she couldn’t break free.

“Okay! Enough. Natasha, you’re off the mission. Y/N, you’re with me. We leave in 10.” Steve spoke with conviction in his voice, fed up with the pair of you. Natasha stopped resisting Bucky’s hold as he slowly let her go. You looked at her with one harsh glare before you took the mission file that was on the table and walked out of the room. As you left, everyone in the room stared at Natasha. She huffed and stormed out of the room as well.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

You and Steve were currently staked out in a van. You guys were spying on one of the leaders of Hydra and an infamous weapons dealer. The man was currently having a lunch with the dealer. You had been sitting there together for about an hour. You were bored out of your mind and pissed that you couldn’t get Natasha out of your mind. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for thinking about how hot she looked when she pissed. The way her eyes would widen, showing off more of her green irises as her eyebrows furrowed together in anger. The way her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths. God, she had such nice boobs.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Fury’s voice coming in through comms. “Okay, we evacuated civilians off of the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Remember, wait until they’re in front of the alley before you attack. They may have weapons.” Fury informed you both and you looked onto the monitor to confirm the empty street. Sure enough, there wasn’t a civilian in sight; good.

Steve replied with a quick “okay” before movement from the door of the restaurant caught your attention. “Steve, there they are. Move out, now.” You spoke as you loaded your gun and attached it to your hip. You and Steve jumped out of the van. Steve threw his shield and hit both of the men with it. His shield came back to him as if ricocheted off of the men.

Your gun was pointed at the both of them as you guys approached them. “Meeting in broad daylight? Doesn’t seem like a smart move for two supposedly genius people.” You spoke as Steve searched the two men for any weapons. They didn’t have any. That should’ve been a red flag, but you weren’t in the right state of mind right now.

Suddenly, another van pulled up in front of the alleyway, right behind the vehicle you both had just exited. Hydra Agents with semi-automatic guns filed out of the van. Fuck. You guys were set up. Steve shared a look with you before he threw his shield toward the men and knocked the guns out of a few of the agent’s hands.

You began to fire towards the men with your own gun. You shot them in the shoulders, sending them flying to the ground in pain. You and Steve made quick work of the men and soon enough, there were unconscious men littered across the floor.

You and Steve turned back to the two men you had previously captured as they laid on the floor in shock. They really thought their little stunt would work? Pathetic. Unfortunately, one of the Hydra agents was still conscious. You and Steve failed to notice the movement behind your backs. The man pointed a nearby gun at you and fired 5 shots at you. He missed three of them, but managed to land two into your abdomen.

You fell to the ground as Steve whipped around and actually knocked the man unconscious this time. “Fury, we need backup! L/N is down!” He spoke frantically into comms as he applied pressure to your wounds. Your eyes were open in shock as you tried to process what just happened. You were shot. It really did hurt like a bitch. What are those black spots? God, I want Natasha right now. Wait, what? No, it’s just the blood loss talking.

You fell unconscious as soon as the backup S.H.I.E.L.D agents appeared on the scene. You were rushed back to the Avengers Compound in one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s vehicles, Steve following you after ensuring the two men were detained. As soon as the car made it to the compound, your unconscious body was placed onto a gurney and you were being rushed to the medical wing.

As your body was being rolled through the halls of the compound, you were pushed by the doctors past Natasha. She did a double take and quickly turned around to confirm what she had just saw. Her heart sunk to her stomach at the sight of your limp, blood-covered body. She ran after you without a second thought, fear and dread taking over.

Natasha tried to enter the medical wing where they had just taken you, but she was stopped by a strong hand abruptly placing itself onto her shoulder. “Nat, we need to let them take care of her. We’d only be disturbing them and we need their focus to 100% be on Y/N.” Steve said in an attempt to convince the redhead to stop her plan of barging into the room like a madwoman. Natasha took one last glance at the door before she heavily sighed and walked to the wall across the door. She slid her back slowly against the wall and placed her head in her hands.

“What happened, Rogers?” Natasha asked, afraid of hearing the answer. Steve went over the events of the mission, and all Natasha could think was that she should’ve been there with you. She would’ve jumped in front of that bullet to save you in a heartbeat because she loved you. Wait. She loved you? Holy fuck! She loved you!

Natasha’s heart rate increased rapidly at her self revelation. She has loved you this entire time. God, she was so fucking blind. How could she not see what was right in front of her? She was madly in love with you. She let the things the Red Room drilled into her affect your relationship. Now, she wasn’t sure if she’d have the opportunity to make it up to you. That thought scared Natasha more than any mission ever could.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

1 hour later

An hour later, and the entire team was sprawled across the hallway of the medical wing. Wanda sat beside Natasha on the floor, comfortingly holding her hand. The rest of the team just stood, anxiously and impatiently waiting to hear about your status.

At the sound of the medical bay door opening, Natasha shot up from her spot on the floor and looked towards Helen Cho. “What’s her status? Is she okay? Did she make it?” Natasha immediately fired off questions at the Doctor. The team stood firmly behind Natasha as they looked at Dr. Cho, their eyes asking her the same questions Natasha did.

“She coded on the table a few times. The bullets hit some major arteries, but we managed to stop the bleeding. If she had arrived even a minute later than she did, she wouldn’t have made it.” The relief of the good news radiated off of earth’s mightiest heroes. Natasha almost let tears escape her eyes, but quickly blinked them back.

“Can I see her?” Natasha asked desperately. “Yes you can, but shes still asleep. The anesthesia was very strong so she’ll be out for a few more hours.” Helen spoke as she opened the door for Natasha. She entered and let out a sigh of relief as she caught sight of your chest rising and falling steadily. Natasha grabbed a nearby chair and placed it right beside your bed. She lightly stroked your hair before she gripped your hand.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

3 hours later

You groaned as you slowly open your eyes and were met with an obnoxiously bright light hovering over you. You heard some shuffling before the light was shut off. You turned your head towards the other person in the room and you rolled your eyes at who it was.

“If you’re here to be an asshole, please leave. I’m not in the mood for it.” You spoke as you watched Natasha sit back down in the chair next to your bed.

“I’m not here for that. I wanted to apologize, Y/N. You were right, I was a bitch. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you, but I was just afraid.” Natasha began to speak as she seemingly appeared nervous. You’ve never seen her nervous before, you’re pretty sure no one ever has.

“I was so terrified because I love you. Everyone I love ends up leaving me, and I couldn’t watch you leave me. So, I thought it was best if I beat you to the punch.” Natasha looked down to her lap and played with her fingers absentmindedly. Your eyes widened as far as they could go at Natasha’s words. She loved you. She actually, verbally said it. That’s a huge fucking deal.

“I know my logic may not make the best sense, but what does make sense is the fact that I love you. I always have and I was just too stupid to tell you. I’m sorry, I love you so much.” Natasha spoke as she tore her gaze from her hands and up to your eyes.

You reached your hand out for hers and she shakily took your hand in hers. You almost let out a gasp at the contact, you missed her touch so much. “I won’t ever leave you, Natasha because I love you too. I’m sorry too. I was just as afraid as you were. We were both stupid.” You let out a little laugh at your last words. Natasha let out a chuckle as a tear fell from her eyes. Oh god, you’ve never seen her cry either.

“You scared me. I thought you weren’t going to make it. When I saw your body being wheeled down here…. all the blood… I-“ Natasha words were cut off as you smashed your lips against hers. You winced as the pain from your gunshot wounds radiated across your body, but you couldn’t care less about that right now. The only thing that mattered in this moment was that the woman you loved, loved you too. You’d never be afraid to express your love for her ever again.

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[beann-e]

Bnha Characters reacting to when you quit your job

bakugou

your steps were quiet as you tried to work up the energy to unlock your front door. Your hands sweating and cold when you finally got the energy to put the key in the lock a deep exhale leaving your lips when you finally walked in.

Your Body only carrying you to your kitchen counter before you dropped your keys and bag on the same counter your body now rested against.

The room heating up and shifting from the ice quiet atmosphere youd created when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you back to meet a hard chest

Small kisses being planted on the side of your neck as you let out another sigh of relief as you spoke trying not to drown in the comfort being given to you “ baby “

Your body shook as you heard a deep grunt of acknowledgment “ we — we need to talk “

you felt as another set of kisses were placed to your neck before his head snuggled into the spot between your neck and shoulder “ I— I think I made a mistake“

You bit at your lip as you kept going “ I— I was trying my best to stick up for myself y’know like you told me”

“ mm—and did you“

“ I did —I mean I did stick up for myself and I had to I needed to bu—”

“ slowly losing interest y/n “

you let out a shallow cough “ but I think I did it at the wrong time “

his body stood up a bit straighter head still remaining in the same place somehow “ baby I —i lost my job “

You felt as your boyfriends body went hard almost as if he was trying not to slam your own body into the floor in anger his grip around your waist only getting tighter “ like I said I — I wrong time“

“ wrong time? — y/n wrong place “ he screamed as he jolted your soul out of your already shaken figure. His head flying back to look at you conveying all the anger and annoyance he held, “ what the fuck do we do now “

you let out a small laugh to try to ease the tension “ we — we rely on your hero check ? “

You watched as he sucked his teeth and moved out of the kitchen “ I can barely feed a fucking roach with my salary y/n “ his voice getting louder as he walked into the living room you following closely behind “ i — i can barely feed you — us — y/n this is why we don’t have little crumb snatchers running around now “

his voice deep and heavy “ cause we’re broke do you get that babe ? huh no — fuck — you— fuck fuck fuck you gotta go back — you can’t just be chilling around the fucking house while i’m working my ass off that’s not how starting a family works y/n “

“ baby it’s just until I can get a new job “

“ tch— and how long will that take y/n “

“ well I— “

“ huh months ? “

“ well n— “

“ couple weeks “

“ I mean hopefull— “

“ babe you don’t even fucking know “ he sighed as he griped the skin on the bridge of his nose “ so fucking stupid — so so so fucking stupid “

the room went quiet as your eyes dropped to the ground. “ wel— no — I — I don’t know kats” you shook your head “ I— I really don’t“

“ and that’s the problem y/n “ he screamed eyes finally opening to look at you.

God, he loved you but seriously you just didn’t think sometimes

It’s not that he was calling you stupid it’s just that he really really loved you

He loved that you listened to him. That whenever he gave advice you heard it and went with it.

The night he told you to speak up he was honestly just fucking with you. He always forgets that he has someone who loves him now meaning he’s taken seriously. He always forgets he’s not in high school anymore.

He can’t say something crazy and asshole—ish and expect to just be ignored. He has someone that loves him and will truly listen.

Your not the stupid one

nor the one in the wrong he is

and he knows he is because he heard everything you said about your situation. Yet, he knew you were different from him whereas he had been speaking his mind for years regardless of ranks.

You couldn’t.

You had a job where everything relied on ranks and status. You couldn’t just say whatever the fuck you wanted to like he could and yet he convinced you that night to speak up whenever your boss gave you extra work you didn’t wanna do.

His eyes felt heavy and so did his body his brain automatically beating himself up as he stared at you imagining the rough day youd had. If he was pissed off with the current situation he could only imagine how you felt.

Someone who hated to rely on others yet, now having to rely on their boyfriend.

“ come here “ your eyes lit up at the statement as your tired body wobbled over and into bakugous arms. Head hitting his chest as he crushed you “ I love you and i’m proud of you “

your heart sank.

“ fuck those idiots you only have room for one anyways and hes— fuck trust me I know i’m enough “

Shoto

“ so “

“ so “

You sat on the couch legs splayed out in front of you and hands playing with the tassels of the pillows placed next to you.

God you loved these pillows. You actually remember the day you bought them.

Y’know back when you had money

“ y/n “ you watched as shoto shifted uncomfortably on the couch next to you “ my love what are you doing home “

He shook his head confused at the body placed comfortably next to his own “ your not supposed to be home for “ he looked down at his watch moving his suit jacket up his arm to create space and to make sure he was seeing the time correctly “ for 7 more hours “

you let out a short laugh “ you sound like you just got caught cheating sho “

his eyebrows crinkled together as he stared at you in disgust “ y/n I would never “

His hand moved to be placed on your thigh “my love is that what you think ? — if that’s why your here then I can assure you tha—I mean honestly if so I would never be stupid enough to disrespect you in our home— you could’ve went to my office at least I mea— “

“ I lost my job shoto “

The air shifted as the hand on your thigh suddenly felt colder than before “ I— I lost my job “

you took a deep breath shaking your head “ it’s a long story on why but i’ve been leaving the house — pretending really— to go to work “

You chuckled “ god i’m sucha bad person “ your small chuckle turned into a hearty laugh as you felt your body go slack “ A fucking horrible timekeeper too if I managed to forget my husband gets off before me on weekends “

“ do not say these things about yourself “

“ it’s not like it’s a lie “ your tear filled eyes coming up to look at his. ” right “

“ I will not stand for this y/n “

“ for what — having an unemployed s/o—i mean you already have one so not much to do about that “

you scoffed “ why don’t you want a housewife ? huh“ you smiled “ I can wear the skirts for you y’know with the aprons cook you dinner and maybe we can have kids y’know we can even get —“

“ enough “

your body shook your eyes widened facing the 6 ft male now towering over you “ your always joking about serious things and I — I don’t understand “ his eyebrows creasing in desperate need to understand you. Eyes darting around your face “ how “

his voice going deeper as he got angrier “ y/n you lost your job“ his eyes grew wide “ do you realize how serious this is “

“ wh— “ you shook your head letting out a short scoff “ of course I do —I mean sho i’m the one who qui—lost it “

“ no you clearly don’t “ he scoffed “ not if your sitting here making jokes in my face “

His mouth quirked up in disgust “ it’s almost insulting — disgusting really “

“ wh— sho—“ you felt as a tear fell from your eye “ baby what could be so disgusting huh ? so ‘ insulting ‘ about me choosing to leave huh “

his eyes softened “ because of your reason to leave “

“ my reason ? “

“ my love I know you — I know you didn’t get fired and I know you wouldn’t just leave you loved it there “

your head dropped as your fiddled with your fingers “ so that means something led you to make that life changing decision and it hurts me that you were forced to make it “

Your heart broke, he was right he was always right, for days at work youd been dealing with an overbearing co worker who would tell you to do everything they didn’t feel like doing and when you finally decided to say no to them

They went and told your boss. Who even though you’d been working there longer than your so called coworker still believed everything they were told.

That was the day that you sadly found out your job favored years over hard work.

Due to the other person being there longer you were trumped in telling your story. It was seen as not necessary because , someone who was there for so long would have no reason to lie on someone like you.

A newbie

“ someone made you quit this job “

“ sho no they— I decided “

You felt as the couch shifted from him kicking it. You thinking he was moving to grab his shoes except walking past them and unlocking the door instead.

“ baby where are you going — we need to talk about how we’re going to split the bills now that i— “

“ i’ll handle it “

“ shoto you can’t put everything on your dads card we’re not “ you let out a soft exhale “ we’re not children anymore “

“ i’ll pay for it all myself — and you can be my little housewife “ he scoffed as your expression grew sour “ it was so funny a moment ago right “

“ shoto i’m not gonna ask again where are you going “

“ where else “

your eyebrows came together in a furrow “ wh— “

“ my love you work for my company ? obviously who ever I put in charge “ he shrugged walking barefoot to his car unlocking the door “ isn’t doing a very good job if they fire their bosses s/o ? “

He got into the drivers seat as he turned the car on and reversed the car “ needs to learn respect no ? so i’ll just have them switch places with you“ he smiled softly “ i’ll see you when I get home “

His once furious eyes turning soft at your body hidden in pajamas “ go inside baby —it’s cold —go order us some takeout i’ll be back in a little ok “

“ sho “

“ just let me handle this —i love you and i’ll be right back my love—go “

You shook your head softly “ go y/n “

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 17 - Mind Games [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, angst.

Word Count: 4700

Summary: Love demands sacrifices.

Not even once in your life had you ever imagined yourself in handcuffs, in an interrogation room on the wrong side of the table.

You weren’t even at the FBI headquarters though. The police had taken you to the station after the hospital, taking a blood sample and your fingerprints, then they had handcuffed you and left you there with a glass of water.

Of course they suspected you. Of course they thought you had murdered him.

Murder was your father’s legacy, after all.

You traced the handcuffs over your wrists, already feeling the bruises forming there. The shock still hadn’t worn off but you were starting to think it was a good thing. It felt as if you were watching all of this from behind some kind of glass window, perfectly aware of every single emotion but unable to actually feel them.

Spencer had said when you felt threatened, your body produced nervous energy, some sort of a fight or flight reaction but for once you weren’t trying to do any of that.

You just sat there, completely frozen.

“You look calm,” the police officer spoke, making you look up, trying to ignore the faint yelling coming from outside, possibly from the end of the hall.  

“I’m sorry?”

“Most people would be traumatized if this happened to them, they’d be crying, shaking…” he motioned at you, “But look at you. Still as a statue. You look pretty calm.”

“Would you rather if I were crying?”

“I’d rather if you were acting like a human being,” he said, “Why are you so calm?”

Why were you so calm?

Because your mother had taught you this much. Showing emotion when you were afraid meant weakness.

“My father was a serial killer,” you stated, looking him dead in the eye, “I’ve had a complicated childhood.”

“Yeah, I’d say…” he leaned in slightly, “You know, I’ve watched that documentary about your father. His interviews too.”

You raised your brows as he sniffled, trying to look like he was nonchalant about this whole situation.

“And I’ve spent sixteen years on this job,” he said, “After a while, you don’t even need anyone to speak for you to know what they’ve done. It’s all in their eyes and little girl,” he clicked his tongue, “There’s nothing behind your eyes but ice and death.”

You couldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry. Not in front of people, not even if they tried to kill you. No matter how much they tried to hurt you-

No emotions.

“Impressive,” you managed to say, “Very poetic. Have you ever considered changing your career?”

“You know what I think?”

“I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”

“I think you wanted to follow your father’s footsteps,” he said, “I think you killed Anthony, and all those other people. It’s not even your fault, is it? Some people are just born broken.”

That was more than enough to make your eyes snap up to his and you could feel the lump in your throat but you bit your tongue so hard that you swallowed blood, making sure to keep your expression still.

“Nothing to say?”

“You’ve already decided what to think of me,” you said, “And I already told you what happened. What more do you want to hear?”

“Right,” he scoffed, taking a look at the file in front of him, “You went to bed around 12, didn’t wake up whole night, when you woke up you found him like that. Lying in a pool of his own blood, in your kitchen.”

“You don’t look like a whiskey girl.” an unfamiliar voice made you turn your head and you lowered your glass, tilting your head. The guy smiled at you, and stole a look at the whiskey glass you had put on the bar.

“Yeah?” you asked, “What girl am I then? If you’re such an expert?”

He thought for a moment, “Hmm, wine?”

“Depends on the occasion.”

“What kind of an occasion does whiskey call for?”

“Apparently an occasion for meeting guys with bad pick-up lines.”

He let out a chuckle, “Yeah, I swear I’m normally smoother than this.”

“I would hope so,” you grinned, and offered your hand, “Y/N.”

“Anthony.”

“But you failed to mention the part you texted him to come to your apartment.”

“I didn’t text anyone.”

“We have your phone Y/N.”

“I didn’t text anyone,” you repeated, “Someone must’ve drugged me and taken my phone, the same person who killed him, the same person who obviously broke into my apartment.”

“How convenient.”

You clenched your jaw.

“I always wake up during night,” you said, your voice completely calm and controlled. “Always. I never woke up last night, there has to be a reason for that.”

“If you’ve been drugged, it will come up on the blood tests.”

“Good.”

“While we wait for that,” he said, “Why don’t we go over what you did last night?”

You took a deep breath, “I woke up,” you said “Went to work. I left work at 7 to go to my sister’s place. I left there around eleven, came home and went to bed.”

“Nothing else happened.”

“Nothing else happened,” you repeated and he sat up straighter.

“Okay. Well just so you know, Dr. Spencer Reid—” he started and your head shot up, your heart slamming against your chest, “He is giving us his professional opinion at the moment, about this case and what might have really happened this morning. Do you have anything you want to change in your story before he’s finished?”

You gawked at him, blinking a couple of times before you turned your head to look at the one-way mirror on the wall.

The BAU was there, behind the mirror.

“….They came back?”

“We’ve sent them the report, yes. They landed an hour ago.”

It was as if somebody was trying to claw your stomach out of your body as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to ignore the burning behind your eyes before you turned to the officer.

“I don’t have anything to change,” you managed to keep your voice stable, “It was a terrible thing, it definitely was but I didn’t do it.”

Someone knocked on the mirror, making you and the officer look that way before he pushed his chair back and left the interrogation room. You closed your eyes for a moment, focusing on your breathing through the blinding headache but opened your eyes when the door opened again.

Luke.

He offered you a small smile and pulled himself a chair.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, sitting up with your back straight, your hands clasped.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you stole a look at the one-way mirror, “Is he there?”

“Reid?” Luke asked and shook his head, “I had to basically wrestle him out of the hall, he’s…he’s not allowed here. Conflict of interest. He’s giving his statement at the end of the hall as we speak.”

You nodded, digging your fingernails into your palms. “Okay.”

“He also called your sister on our way here. Couldn’t reach her, but left a message. Listen, he can’t request it on your behalf, but you need to ask for a lawyer.”

“I didn’t kill Anthony.”

“I didn’t ask if you killed him, I’m saying you need to ask for a lawyer.”

“Does he think I did it?” you asked and Luke shook his head again.

“No,” he said, “But it doesn’t matter what anyone else believes at this point, Y/N. Ask for a lawyer.”

You kept your back straight, rolling your shoulders. “If Spencer left a message to Mina, she’s coming.”

“Is she a defense lawyer?”

“No but she knows a lot of them.”

He took a deep breath and put the bottle of your pills on the desk, “The officers also found this.”

You tried your hardest to focus, moving your wrists to help with the soreness of the handcuffs. “They’re prescribed.”

“I can see that. The side effects say confusion?”

You arched a brow, “I’m sorry, do I sound confused to you right now?”

“No, you sound way too controlled right now, I may as well have been talking to a robot.”

You gritted your teeth, trying to control the panic bubbling at the pit of your stomach, sending anger through your veins.

“I’m not confused,” you stated, “Besides, I haven’t been taking them lately.”

He threw his head back, pressing his lips together, “God, Y/N, you can’t say that. A psychiatrist prescribed you something and you—“

“They’re just for nightmares, they don’t make you…” you took a deep breath, commanding yourself to stay calm, “I didn’t kill him. I found him like that. It was terrible, but I didn’t do it.”

Someone opened the door again and Emily Prentiss cleared her throat.

“Luke,” she murmured, “Spencer.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat upon hearing his name but kept completely still as Luke left the room and Emily and JJ walked into the room.

“You’re taking turns now?” you asked and Emily cleared her throat,

“Me and JJ are the only people in our team who haven’t spent as much time with you, so we figured it would be better if we interrogated you.”

“I didn’t do it.”

Emily pulled herself a chair as JJ crossed her arms, standing by the wall.

“Can you walk me through what happened this morning?”

You took a deep breath, “I woke up,” you said, “With a headache. I knew something was wrong, I felt it. My window was open, the front door was half open and my phone wasn’t where I left it. I stepped outside my room, saw the blood, went to the kitchen and saw—“ you gritted your teeth and clenched your fists, “Saw my ex-boyfriend there. Dead. Lying in a pool of his blood.”

“But you heard nothing.”

“I never sleep for the whole night,” you said slowly, “Check my blood test. Something happened last night.”

“We don’t have your blood test results yet, but there was no sign of any sexual—“

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” You cut her off, a shiver running down your spine, “That’s not it. Whoever it was, they didn’t touch me, they wanted…”

“What did they want?”

You shrugged slightly, “I don’t know. They wanted me to see it I think. My…my father’s crime scenes.”

JJ took a deep breath and pushed herself off the wall.

“And you don’t think it’s a little too convenient?”

You pulled your brows together, looking at her and she stepped closer to the table, her eyes fixed on you.

“Two victims so far,” she said, “The ones that we knew that were in the same place as you, they had some connection to you. That woman who was killed at the charity ball, you didn’t get along when you were kids, you turned her down as a client before she was killed, and now your ex-boyfriend ends up dead, in your apartment because you sent him a—“ she scoffed, “I’m sorry, someone sent him a late night text, inviting him to your apartment.”

“JJ,” Emily started but JJ held up a hand while you tried to wrap your head around it.

She had a point. Two victims so far had some connection to you and that was not a coincidence, it couldn’t have been.

“You think I did it,” you rasped out and she scoffed.

“I think you had something to do with all of this,” she said, “I think you’ve been trying to manipulate Spencer for something. The best case scenario, you were cheating, that’s why Anthony was there and something went bad, the worst case….” She shook her head, “You’re behind every single murder we’ve been looking into, and Spencer was just a tool for you. He’s my best friend, and if I find one single proof that you put him in harm’s way, I swear to God I will destroy you.”

Two people had ended up dead, and that was your fault. The copycat was going after people who had some kind of connection to you, and apparently no one except you and your family was safe.

The idea was way too painful to even exist inside your head, but it was clear as day. JJ was right, you were putting Spencer in harm’s way just by being with him, and if it were him, if you had seen him lying in a pool of his blood, his eyes wide open—

You dug your fingernails into your palms until it hurt before you managed to lift your head, that invisible wall which kept you safe from anyone and everyone who could possibly see anything you felt going up again.

“You…” you trailed off, your throat burning, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“What does that mean?” Emily asked but before you could say anything, someone slammed the door open, making you and the agents turn.

Mina.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” she asked no one in particular and stepped aside so that 4 lawyers could walk inside before the police officer rushed to you to remove the handcuffs off your wrists.

“You’re not saying another word,” she snapped her fingers, “Come on, we’re leaving.”

“We’re going to need her to sign some papers,” the officer said as Mina grabbed your wrist to pull you out of the room, making you hiss in a breath and she froze, lowering her glances to check your sore wrists for any bruises.

“What did they do to you?”

You shook your head silently, and something in Mina’s gaze shifted. You had seen it only a couple of times, including that time you were getting stitches after some girls in your classroom had ambushed you in the bathroom, and more importantly, you had seen that look on her face when Lily had fever that one time and you all had to rush to the hospital and the doctors said she couldn’t see her.

It was fire, similar to yours, ready to burn everything in its path.

“Don’t say anything to anyone. You two,” she motioned at the two lawyers, “Read whatever she’s supposed to sign.”

The lawyers approached the desk by the door as Mina put her coat over your shoulders, rubbing at your arms as you swayed slightly on your feet, trying to focus.

“We’re leaving, okay sweetheart?”

“Miss—“

“No,” When Mina turned to the police officers and the BAU team, any trace of softness in her voice disappeared, “You don’t talk. If you don’t want to get into even more trouble, you’re going to listen to me right now.”

The officer that had been with you at the interrogation room just blinked a couple of times, obviously taken aback.

“Do you have any idea what you just did to yourself?” she asked, “What you did to this whole precinct? Because allow me to explain, my sister was a victim in this scenario, and you tried to pin this shit on her to make her a scapegoat,” she shook her head, “We will be suing you for defamation of character—“

“Mina, your sister—” JJ started but she snapped her fingers at her.

“I haven’t even started with you yet, wait for your turn.”

“Mina…” you murmured but she didn’t even look like she could hear you,

“Where was I? Defamation of character because press will be all over this, intentional infliction of emotional stress and wrongful arrest and hey, to make things fun we will also be requesting the security footage in the interrogation room and if I see one very small slip of anything that wasn’t supposed to be said and done in that room…” Mina tilted her head, “Well, let’s just say that by the time I’m done with you guys and this whole precinct, the only thing you will be able to afford is going to be a typewriter and a desk.”

One of the lawyers came to tell you the document was alright to sign and as soon as you approached the desk, a door by the hall opened and Spencer stepped out.

It was almost excruciating not to be able to run to him. He looked as shocked as he was and he took a step towards you but JJ stepped in front of him as you grabbed the pen, ignoring the way your name spilled from his lips in a whisper.

“Oh, hi genius.” Mina called out, “Were you getting a glass of water while your team was hounding my sister or something?”

Spencer looked almost confused only for a moment before he turned to look at JJ who deliberately averted her glances from him.

“Mina, this is not necessary,” you croaked out as you signed the papers and she shook her head.

“No, this is very necessary, trust me. You need to show these people what you’re capable of or they will try to fuck you up, case and point.” She turned to Emily, “You’re the one in charge, I suppose?”

“I am.”

“Good. Consider this your warning, because the next time anyone in your team, including the puppy dog eyes over there gets any closer to my sister, we will be getting a restraining order for each and every one of you.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, still swaying on your feet and you hugged the coat around you tighter.

Not that you could do anything other than watching this.

“Your sister is an active part of this investigation, your father specifically asked for—“

“My sister is a civilian,” Mina growled, “She has no responsibility for this case, you do. How about you surprise me and do your fucking jobs?”

You took a breath to say it wasn’t fair, that it wasn’t their fault but Mina turned to look at you.

“Get in the elevator, we’re leaving.”

You were way too tired to fight her, way too tired to even stand there so you followed the army of lawyers to the elevator, while Mina shot the officers and the BAU members a fake smile.

“Pleasure, let’s never do this again,” she said, and got in the elevator with you, and you tried to keep your expression still, Spencer staring at you until the doors slid close.

“4 lawyers?” you managed to say, “I don’t think even Bundy had four lawyers.”

“Tell that to mom,” she said, “She was on the phone with a congressman the last I checked.”

You couldn’t even smile at that, but Mina let out a breath before pulling you into a bone crushing hug, making the tears rush to your eyes as you wrapped your arms around her.

“Never do that to me again, you hear me?” her voice cracked for the first time and you nodded slowly.

“I won’t,” you said, “I promise.”

                                                   ***

It was as if someone had pulled all your energy out of your body. You were exhausted, you could barely understand what anyone was saying but you knew there was no way you could sleep anytime soon.

The blood test, as the lawyers had informed you, finally came back and just like you suspected, they had found traces of chloroform in your system. That and your team of lawyers combined were more than enough to get rid of any kind of accusations against you, so at least you had that.

On the other hand, the fear, the guilt, the sadness were still there inside of you, even if you felt way too numb to reach it.

You wondered if Spencer would have a scientific explanation for that.

Your mother had insisted you would never step a foot into your apartment again, she was already looking for a new apartment for you, one with multiple security systems and until that happened she had told you you would be staying at her house.

The damn thing was way too big anyway and you and Mina had grown up there so you figured it would serve as some sort of shelter.

If it even existed for you.

“Here you go sweetheart,” your mother pushed the tea cup towards you, “Drink it, it’ll make you feel better.”

“I’m fine.”

Kenzie heaved a sigh, “It’s okay if you’re not,” she said, “No one expects you to, anyone would be traumatized.”

“The real estate agent already sent me three apartments,” your mother said, “Huge windows, you love a bright apartment.”

“Mom,” Mina said silently and she heaved a sigh.

“It could help her distract herself,” her head shot up, “Y/N, you should go on a vacation! Somewhere far away from here.”

“Somewhere peaceful could be nice?” Kenzie added, “I think that’s a good idea.”

You and Mina exchanged glances.

“I heard Fiji is lovely this time of the year,” your mother said and you let out a breath.

“Mom, two people died because of me,” you croaked out, “I’m not going to Fiji for vacation.”

“Honey, you could use some peace,” she held your chin carefully and lifted it so that she could look at you better, “You look so…”

“I look like how I feel,” you said and turned your head when the doorbell rang, making Mina sit up straighter.

“Who’s that?” she asked when the maid walked in.

“Spencer Reid?”

“What?” you and Kenzie asked at the same time, your heartbeat getting faster and Mina jumped on her feet but you stopped her, shaking your head.

“It’s okay,” you sniffled, nodding to yourself, “It’s….it’s fine. There’s no point in dragging it out.”

“Dragging what out?” Mina asked you but you walked out of the living room and reached the front door, trying to ignore the warmth filling your system as soon as your eyes caught the sight of him. You stepped out of the house and he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his nose into your hair and inhaling deeply as if it helped him calm down while you just stood there, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.

You had to do it. No matter how much it hurt you, no matter how much you didn’t want to.

No matter how badly it would rip your heart out.

“You okay?” he asked you, his fingers pushing your hair behind your ear, “I tried your apartment but I figured…”

“Yeah, I’m not going back there,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll move out, it’s fine.”

“Do you want to stay at my place?” he asked quickly and you closed your eyes for a moment, every cell in your body begging you to change your mind.

You couldn’t though. You’d rather die than see him lying in a pool of his blood, all because of you.

“Don’t say that,” you whispered and opened your eyes again, “Please don’t say that.”

He looked almost confused, tilting his head to the side like a puppy before it dawned on him.

“Is this about the file on me?”

You shook your head and he took a deep breath.

“About today?”

“I didn’t send that message,” you said, “To Anthony, I mean. I wouldn’t…. I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“I know that.”

“And I didn’t kill him. I don’t know if you heard, but the blood tests came back positive for—”

“I never doubted that, not even for one second,” he insisted, “With or without blood test.”

“You might be the only one,” you murmured and he paused for a moment.

“What did JJ say to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Because we had an argument on the jet on our way back here and whatever she said…”

You shook your head again, trying to smile.

“I get it,” you murmured, “She’s your best friend, she’s protective of you. That’s normal.”

“Yeah but if she thinks that you’re capable of—”

“I want to break up.”

You could swear the words burned your mouth, some invisible hand clutching your heart tighter and tighter as you willed yourself to keep your eyes on the street, because you were sure that every wall you built to keep your emotions under control would crash down the moment you looked at him. Out of the corner of your eye you could see that he froze and he blinked a couple of times, as if he was lost.

“What?” he asked silently and you tried to swallow the lump growing bigger and bigger in your throat.

“Y/N, wait—no,” he said quickly, breathing hard, “Listen, whatever they said to you today during the interrogation, if that’s what this is about—”

“It has nothing to do with that,” you forced yourself to say, crossing your arms and he took a step closer to you.

“Whatever the problem is,” he rasped out, “We can solve it, okay? Don’t do this.”

That was when it dawned on you.

It wasn’t enough to push him away. You had to make sure to burn that bridge so that neither of you could ever find your way back to each other.

“It’s not one of your cases Spencer, you can’t solve this one,” you muttered and finally turned your head to look up at him, your stomach churning at the sight of betrayal on his face.

“I don’t understand.”

“You—it’s—“ you stammered, trying to find the words, “It’s going way too fast, alright? It’s going way too fast and it’s going to fucking crash, and I can’t—“ you cleared your throat when your voice cracked, “I’m not going to crash with this, I can’t.”

Your father had taught you this way too long ago, when you were too young to even question it.

Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.

Stab the prey.

“I mean come on Spencer, we’re not in love or anything,” you shrugged your shoulders, “Should be easy enough.”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds, his mouth slightly agape and his brows furrowed, shock written all over his face.

“We’re not in love?” he repeated, “You…you don’t love me?”

Twist the knife.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

His eyes searched your face, as if looking for any kind of clue that could tell him you were lying, or that it was a trick but for once, it was in vain.

You’d had spent years learning how to control your emotions and your expression when it came to heartbreak.

Pull it back.

“It’s not my fault if you’re in love,” you said, each word making you hate yourself more and more, “I can’t be held responsible for that.”

Stabbing yourself would’ve been less painful, you were sure of that but you knew you had to keep going. One last step, one last sentence and you would be done.

Watch them bleed.

“I never told you to love me.”

Then, silence.

You had to give it to him though, it took him faster than it would’ve taken you to pull yourself together if you were the one on the receiving end of this. He blinked back the tears, clenched his jaw and in a second, his gaze turned cold, exactly like yours.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, nodding, “You didn’t.”

But you had forgotten one small detail. 

Spencer knew how to withdraw that knife and stab back.

You cleared your throat and turned around to get inside the house but before you could step in, you heard his voice.

“I was wrong.”

You looked over your shoulder, clutching at the straws to keep it together, “I’m sorry?”

“I was wrong,” he stated, his voice was distant and held no trace of its usual warmth, “Before, I mean. In terms of behavior and psychology, you’re exactly your father’s daughter.”

With that, he walked away from the house, and you just stood there for a moment before stepping into the house and closing the door behind you, that comfortable haze of shock slowly withdrawing from your mind like mist. That hand squeezing your heart twisted it in your chest and you tried to breathe, pressing a hand on your chest.

“Sweetheart?” your mother called out as she stepped into the hallway, then slowly approached you, “You okay?”

It was impossible to stop the tears rushing to your eyes now and a gasp escaped from your lips as you shook your head.

“Mom,” you whimpered, “Please, my—my heart hurts...”

She rushed to you and shushed you gently, pulling you into a tight hug and caressing your hair as you slipped to the ground and you buried your face to her shoulder.

Then the sobs came.

Chapter 18

[ptergwen]

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,��� he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

-

peter parker taglist

@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12

-

if i forgot you please lmk!

[kireimarkeu]

We got Married!; mk.l

[johnny]

character: oc x husband!mark lee

summary; where you and mark join a television show as husband and wife.

genre; fluff!

word count: 5.6k

a/n; i wasn’t really planning to write a wgm ver for mark, but i had so much ideas suddenly come to me so here it is :) i think i’ve grown and has written different kinds of fics, and i feel really confident in this one! i think you can see the difference if you read the johnny one compared to this hehe :) i really hope you guys like this because i reallyyyy did!!!

also, thank you guys for 500 followers! i havent done much but repost old works, but still got followers lmfaooo 

also a little note: bold + italic means mark is in the studio watching the show together

italic means questions are being asked to y/n and mark in the interview area

enjoy you guys :)

Episode 22

“Hello, I am NCT Mark and I am 22 years old,” a smile adorns his lips as the boy next to you bow at the camera.

“Hello, I am Mark’s wife, Y/N, and I am 21 years old,” you greet, bowing politely at the camera.

“This is the first time we have very young guests coming to our show,” one of them said.

“I think many fans are wondering why you had gotten married at such a young age?” one asked.

Another continued, “yeah, I don’t think it’s common in Korea,” they said, “I heard that Mark used to live in Canada for some time, is it common to get married at such a young age, there?” 

Mark chuckles, shaking his head, “No, no, we both decided to get married young because we have always talked about spending our 20s together.”

“How long have the both of you been married?”

Mark looks at you before answering, “We got married just a few months ago, actually.”

“To be exact, it has been about 4 months now,” you continued.

“How long did you guys date?”

“We dated for about 3 years, before we both decided that we wanted to get married straight away,” your husband answers.

“Wait, 3 years? But the news of you guys dating came out a year ago, though?”

“We dated secretly~” Mark replied shyly.

“You guys are the youngest couple to be on our show, has anyone been opposed to the idea of you guys getting married at such a young age?”

Your hand lands on your husbands shoulders, “to start, of course we received a lot of hate comments online when the news came out, but we knew this was what we wanted, so we never really doubted for a second.”

Mark agrees with your words, “yeah, our parents were also a little skeptical by our plans but we were adults and had explained clearly why we wanted to get married at such a young age.”

You hum along with Mark’s words. 

“Tell us honestly, was it hard dating someone when you are one of the biggest boy group in Korea?” one of them asked Mark.

Mark though for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he should spill out the truth or just butter everything up. “Well, of course it was. I knew what I was getting into and so did Y/N,” he says, “and as expected we knew that if we get caught, there would be tons of comments about us.”

“How did you overcome the mean comments?”

“Of course, we had both shared tears because of those comments, but we promised to never leave each other because of what others think.”

The scene started with the both of you eating breakfast at the dinner table. 

The casts of We Got Married started laughing at the sight of Mark’s bed head.

“You know, we really need to go grocery shopping,” you tell your husband who was sitting before you. 

He hums, “we’ll go this afternoon, I need to get some things too,”

You swallow your food, “what things, babe?”

“Doyoungie’s birthday is just around the corner, and I wanna bake him a cake,” he tells you. 

You squint your eyes at the boy, “bake? Are you sure you won’t burn down our kitchen?”

He rolls his eyes at your words, “I’m a grown up, babe, I definitely know how to bake,”

“Didn’t Mark went trending for a while when he cooked eggs?” the members laugh. 

“I remember that!”

.•° ✿ °•.

The scene changed to the both of you in the grocery store. You were searching for ingredients that you had written down in your phone. 

You would often forget items, so before you leave the house, you would type down all the things you would need in your phone.

Mark on the other hand, would get food on impulse- mostly snacks and instant food. You don’t mind, but space is limited, every time your husband joins you, he would overspend and in the end, you wouldn’t have space to keep all the extra food.

“Baby, you know we don’t need all these,” you sigh tiredly, your hand gesturing to the different types of chips laying in the cart. “Just pick one, honey, we can’t have everything from the store,” you say exasperatedly. 

Mark pouts at you but quickly removes most of the chips until there was 2 left. You decided to close an eye since you saw one of the new chips that you had been dying to try out. 

“Have you gotten the ingredients for the cake?”

Mark raises his eyebrows at your words, his hands digging through the pile of food in the cart before pulling out a box of cake mix. 

Episode 27

“Let’s welcome the couple who has received good remarks after coming to our show!” one of them said, followed by a series of claps. 

“Wah~ I really did not expect to receive so much nice comments,” Mark says with his hands placed on his chest, “Thank you so much everyone, y/n and I spent the whole night reading all of your comments.”

“Actually, I’m curious,” one of them quickly adds in, “how did the baking go for your member’s birthday?”

“I ended up burning the cake, so Y/N helped me from scratch,” he says sheepishly.

The casts laugh in unison. 

“Did Doyoung know?”

Mark shakes his head, “I lied and told him that I was the one who made the cake, but he didn’t believed me, so I ended up telling him the truth,” Mark says, flustered.

The scene started with the both of you walking in the park. Strings of coos left the casts lips when they saw you wearing a dress with your hair braided to one side. 

With squinted eyes, the both of you tried to find a good shaded spot in the park before putting down a disposable picnic mat, placing each of your shoes on each corner to prevent it from flying around.

You place the picnic basket in the middle of the mat while Mark took a seat, enjoying the view. You took out all the food that you had prepared a few hours prior. 

“Do you need help, babe?” you hear your husband ask from beside you. 

You shake your head, “I’m good,”

After you had settled all the food down, you finally let your legs stretch before you, leaning your head on your husband’s shoulder. 

Mark’s hand that was previously resting on the plastic picnic mat, finds yours, lacing his fingers with you, “this is nice isn’t it?” 

You nod, letting out a satisfied hum. You point towards his phone, “I think you have some songs prepared for this particular moment, am I right?”

“Oh, Mark do you actually have multiple playlists for different occasion?” one of the cast asks. 

Mark nods sheepishly, “I think it just became a habit of mine,”

“I’m not surprised though- he is in the music industry after all, I think it is pretty common, right?”

“I suppose so? It just doesn’t feel right to me if the music doesn’t match with the vibes.”

Mark reaches out for his phone, clicking on a particular playlist called ‘when the sun’s out’. Soon, the first song started playing softly in the background. 

A content sigh leaves your lips, “you know, if I had to choose one thing I’m grateful for you, it has to be your taste in music,” you tell him, quickly pressing your lips against his cheeks softly. 

Mark turns red at your gesture, his hand clutching yours tighter.

“Now I’m curious, what is your favourite song at the moment,” one of them asks, turning to face Mark.

“I really like Justin Bieber a lot,” he answers, “But right now, I can’t stop listening to Good Days by SZA.”

An hour has past by, most of the food already gobbled up by you two. 

“Babe,” Mark calls, poking you on the arm. 

“Hm?”

“Aren’t you tired?” he asks you, “you woke up super early to make food.”

A soft smile spreads across your lips, “a little, why?”

Your husband softly pats his lap, “come lie down and nap a little. The wind feels really good right now,”

You cleaned everything up and made space for yourself. You comfortably laid your head on Mark’s lap. 

“You know,” you started, “I really wish I could look at you right now, but the sun’s too bright.”

Mark rolls his eyes, “don’t be annoying and go to sleep,” he says, his finger softly flicking your cheek. 

A soft laughter left you before you finally shut your eyes, dozing off quietly while laying in your lover’s lap. 

Once Mark realises that you were asleep, he quietly raises his hands to cover your face from the sun. 

“Awww! You are such a romantic, Mark!”

When you realise the bright light was gone, you open an eye to look at your lover who was looking at his phone, with his hand still high up to cover you from the bright sun. 

A smirk adorns your lips, your eyes shutting close. You grab his hands, startling your husband. Lacing your fingers with his, you bring them down to your chest. 

“I don’t want your arms to be in pain,” you mumble, stroking his hands with your thumb. 

You hear Mark scoff at your statement, “I think I can handle it, babe. But, whatever you say.”

A few moments later, you feel his sculpted hands playing with your hair. He would occasionally massage your scalp or tangle your hair between his fingers. 

You didn’t say a word, feeling comfortable. 

The episode ended with Mark pressing a long kiss on your forehead, before pulling away. 

“This couple is too cute!” 

“It’s really unfair that I’m still single, this couple makes me want to get married so bad!” one of them agrees.

Episode 35

“After a long time, the couple is finally back again for another episode!” the cast says excitedly, “the last time they were here, the couple went on a romantic picnic date, leaving us all with envy!”

Mark laughs at their comment.

The scene started with the both of you entering the SM building. You had a cap and a mask on, hopefully to cover your identity from the fans waiting outside.

Although the news of you guys being a married couple had came out a few months ago, there were times where you did not feel like getting your pictures taken. Which, to be honest, was a rare moment for you and Mark since he is one of the biggest boy group.

You held onto your husband’s hands who was leading the way to the practice room. 

Once he finds an available room, Mark quickly puts his things down on an empty table. 

“Okay, so first we need to do some stretching so we don’t hurt ourselves when we dance later,” Mark tells you.

“Why did you want to dance?”

“To be honest, I really hate working out,” you tell them truthfully, “so I asked Mark if he could teach me some dance choreography,”

“Are you good at dancing?”

You laugh, “absolutely not! I have never danced in my life, so this is my first time.”

“She’s too adorable!”

“Babe, can we do something super easy?” you request, taking off your cap since it was covering your vision. 

Your husband nods, “yeah, we’re gonna do Kick It today.”

You wince at that. Kick It is the easiest he could think of? You didn’t say anything, following whatever your husband says. 

“Okay, so, we won’t do like- the whole choreography,” your husband enunciate. Just as you were about to let out a relieved sigh, Mark continues, “we’ll do from the first chorus onwards.”

Your mouth went wide. 

The casts laugh at your reaction.

“Okay, so the chorus kinda goes like this-” he shows you, looking at you through the mirror, “you know it right? you’ve done it before,”

You were at a loss of words, “I mean- I guess? But it’s not perfect so you still have to teach me!” you whine. 

Why is he going so fast? you though to yourself.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. 

For the next few hours, Mark teaches you the choreography step by step. 

Your husband was standing behind you, his hands resting on yours, positioning your hands at the right position. 

However, you ruined the romantic moment by stepping away from the male and turning to face him with furrowed eyebrows. 

The casts let out a series of grumbled sighs. 

“Why did Y/N step out? It was such a romantic moment!”

“Exactly!” the other adds on.

“Can we please take a break?” you whine, wiping the sweat that was rolling down your forehead, “I’m so tired,” you huff out, throwing yourself at your husband as he captures you in his arms. 

Mark chuckles, agreeing. He grabs your hand, pulling you to sit down on the empty chair. He quickly runs to the other side of the room to grab two bottles of water, opening one of them and passing it to you. 

He opens one for himself before gulping half of the bottle down his throat.

After you had gulped the whole bottle down, you tried to catch your breath. “I didn’t know it would be this tiring,” you confess, “is this what you go through everyday?”

The boy chuckles, “yeah, but a shorter period.”

You roll your eyes at his statement, “Okay, show-off,” you joke. 

Meanwhile, in the background, Kick It was playing on repeat. An idea pop in your head. 

“Wanna know something?” you asked your boyfriend. 

He nods.

“I’ve been practicing your rap part of this song,” you tell him, “I can rap your part word for word without any mistakes,” you say arrogantly, a smirk forming on your lips. 

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, “my part is coming up, I would love to see you try, babe.”

You stand up from your sitting position with your bottle of water in hand. Getting ready for the verse, you bring your hand that was holding the bottle to your mouth- pretending it was a mic. 

“I’m really excited to see Y/N rap,”

“Me too, she seems so confident,” the other adds on.

When the verse started playing, you rapped your husband’s part. 

Mark started laughing hysterically when you started mumbling random words. “Dude!” your husband laughs, his hand slapping his knee multiple times when you rap incoherently. 

His laughter only ceased when the music stopped. “Oh my god,” he says breathlessly, his fingers wiping the tears from his eyes. “I think you should replace me in NCT,” he jokes. 

Just as you were about to reply, you heard a group come in. You turn around swiftly, your eyes widening when you see the familiar girls walk in. 

“Oh, oh,” Wendy cheers, “what’s the couple doing in the practice room alone?”

“Oh my god, is that Red Velvet?” one of them asks, looking over at Mark with widened eyes. 

Mark laughs and nods his head. 

“Oh.. perhaps, you could ask them for their autograph the next time you see them,” they ask sheepishly, “my bias is Seulgi,” they quickly add on.

Mark laughs harder at that, “sure, if I see them around, I’ll make sure to ask for their autograph,”

“Oh hello,” you greet the girls, they bow politely back at you. 

Your husband chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he greets the girls. “I’m just practicing with Y/N”

Mark never got the chance to properly meet them in private- it was either with his members or never. Hence, he felt a little nervous seeing them in private.

Irene raises her eyebrows, “are you guys performing for something?” she asks, pointing at the both of you. 

You shake your head, “I just wanted to learn for fun,” 

Wendy nods, “are you guys going to practice some more?” she asks, looking at the both you expectantly, “cause’, if you guys want to, go ahead. Our choreographer is going to be late so we have time to spare.”

Mark checks the time on his watch before shaking his head, realising it was already pretty late and didn’t want to disturb the girls with their schedule. 

“No, it’s fine, we have to go anyway. I don’t want to steal your hour,” he says politely.

Ever since Mark had debut years ago, it was very hard for this group to book the practice room. So, whenever they managed to get the room, they would often use the room until the next person comes in.

You and Mark start packing up your things as the girls settle down and starts stretching. 

The girls bid the both of you goodbyes as you quickly left the room. 

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your hands clutching onto your husband’s arm as he looks at you in astonishment. “I just met Red Velvet,” you say to the boy next to you. 

You hit his arm multiple times, “I literally met Red Velvet! I even talked to them, babe!” you squealed, hitting his arms harder. That was until Mark grabbed your hands for you to stop hitting his poor arm. 

“Y/N hasn’t met Red Velvet?” they ask. Mark shakes his head, no. “Why not?”

“I knew she liked Red Velvet but she never really asked me if she could meet them,” Mark explains, “and we had this conversation before- meeting the other people in my company,”

“What about?”

“Y/N told me that she didn’t want to take advantage of my privilege, even though when I told her it was fine,” Mark explains. “So she never really asked about wanting to meet Red Velvet, or any of the other people in my company.”

“Jeez- babe,” he chuckles, putting your hand down and instead wrapping his arm around your shoulder, tugging you closer to him. “You were never that excited when you see me,” he jokes. 

The both of you reach the ground floor, stepping out of the elevator. 

“That’s because you’re not the prettiest girl group in the world!” you reply cheekily, a smirk playing on your lips.

“How long have you been a fan of Red Velvet?”

You hum, thinking back all the years you have been listening to their songs and collecting their PC Cards. 

“I think it was a few months after debut?” you doubtfully reply. “It was when I had just came to Korea for school and one of their music was playing in a store, and I really liked it!”

Episode 43

“Ah, our Mark Lee! Where did you go?” the cast whined, tugging on his arms. 

Mark cackle shyly, hiding his face slightly, “I’ve been very busy these days~” he says shyly, “my group had just finished promoting our recent full album,” he explains.

The casts cheers. 

“I heard you guys won first for many awards!” one of them says, “congratulations to NCT! As expected, our talented group with many talents and visuals,” they compliment.

“Thank you,” Mark gives his signature grin, “actually, I felt bad for not being able to come on here for so long, so I actually brought our albums to gift it to you guys,�� Mark says, reaching for the stacks of albums in the bag. 

He hands each one of them the signed and personalised albums to the casts. 

“I can’t wait to listen to this!”

“Is Y/N featuring in any of the songs?” they joke.

This time, the show started with you in the kitchen. You were cooking dinner since some of his members were coming over. 

Mark on the other hand was sitting in the living room. He was seated on the floor, with papers spread all over the table. He had one of his hand holding a pen, swirling it around, while the other was pressed against his cheek. 

“I wanted to produce a song with my own lyrics for this upcoming album,” Mark explains to the cast since they seemed to be a little confused. 

“Have you produced a song with your own lyrics before?”

He nods, “I have, but I received help from others. This time I want to make a song that only has my own lyrics,” Mark explains.

“I never really got to ask an idol this question- but, is it hard to have your songs to be featured in an album?” one of them asks. 

The spotlight was on Mark. 

Mark nods, “it really depends. They usually focus on the music itself- since lyrics can be changed, but if the lyrics are too personal, most of the time they don’t really let you put it in a group album.”

“Did your song manage to be in the album?” one asks. 

“Nope,” mark chuckles. 

The casts laughs with Mark. 

“Because it was too personal?”

Mark simply shrugs, and points at the screen to continue watching. 

A heavy sigh leaves past the boy’s lips. He was staring blankly at the piece of paper. 

The camera manages to capture everything that was written on the piece of paper. Messy scribbles was the only thing that could be seen. 

“Babe,” you called. Mark quickly looks up at you, a pout on his lips. “Make sure you clean the table before the guys come,” you tell him, pointing to the mess on the coffee table. 

This morning, Johnny had contacted Mark saying that he misses him and wants to visit. You quickly agreed, since you haven’t seen the boys in so long.

He hums, slamming his head softly on the coffee table, a groan coming out of him when he hit his forehead a little too hard. 

A small chuckle left your lips when you heard his groans, “inspiration will come, babe,” you advise as you wipe the plates, “be patient.”

Mark turns his head so his cheek was pressed against the table as he stares at you. 

“You look so pretty,” Mark mumbles, but you hear him clearly. 

“Does Mark compliment you often?”

You nod slightly, “I wouldn’t say, all the time,” you exaggerate, “but it was definitely enough for me to know he loves me,” you giggle.

Mark continues to stare at you as you work on the food you were making. He was so deeply in love with you that sometimes he wonders what life would be like if he never met you. 

He lays his eyes on you for the next 15 minutes. It definitely didn’t go unnoticed by you- but you had forgotten about it once you were properly focused on cutting the onions. 

With heart eyes, a sweet smile spreads across your husbands lips. 

The casts all coo at the romantic scene. 

Mark finally sits up straight. With a grin plastered on his face, he grabs a clean sheet of paper and starts writing his feelings down. Surprisingly, he didn’t need a break, he continued writing for the next 30 minutes, satisfied with the lyrics. 

“Did you write a song about Y/N?”

Mark nods, “I did, it was mostly how I felt about being with her.”

“Earlier you said that the song didn’t manage to be in the album, will you be posting the song on another platform?”

Mark scratches his head, uncertain, “I’ll have to ask my company about that,” he jokes.

Episode 47

“We’re finally back with our favourite couple! How are you, Mark?”

“Just fine, I’m preparing some things with my group, so I have been a little busy now a days,” Mark replies. 

The casts sighs, “you’ve been working really hard, Mark.”

Mark simply chuckles awkwardly, unsure of what to say. 

The show started with you sitting on the familiar chair in the building. 

“Oh? The chair seems familiar?”

You had one of your legs crossed over the other with your right hand, holding your phone. You were scrolling through Instagram, hoping it would lessen your boredom. 

After a few minutes, you put your phone down when you realised you’ve been scrolling for minutes now, but nothing had caught your eye on your feed. You let out an exhausted sigh, resting the palm of your hand against your cheek. 

15 minutes later, your eyes widen when you see the familiar boys step out of the elevator. 

You quickly stand up, walking up to the boys. 

“Y/N!” they called, “oh my god, it has been forever since I last saw you!”

You giggle. Your eyes search for your husband but he was no where to be seen. 

“He’s still upstairs, talking to the producer,” Johnny says when he notices you looking around. 

You send him a smile, “I see. Are you guys going back home now?”

The rest of the boys were already walking away after tapping your shoulder to bid you goodbye without interrupting your conversation with Johnny. 

“Jungwoo and Yuta are going to get dinner, the rest of us are heading home- it has been a long day, we’re all exhausted,” Johnny says dramatically.

The boy never fails to make you smile, “I know, Mark told me about your schedule.”

Johnny smiles, “also, Mark had a rough day,” he tells you. Your eyebrows raised in curiosity. You wondered what had happen. 

“Did you know that Johnny had told Y/N about your day?”

He shakes his head, “I didn’t know, but I am thankful for him for always looking out for me.”

It was only 30 minutes later when you saw your husband step out of the elevator. Instead of his usual jog, he was stomping towards your direction. With the way he was walking and the all black outfit- it made him look even more intimidating then he already was.

Johnny was right, he definitely had a bad day today.

“Hi, baby,” you say softly, when he finally stands in front of you. You softly rub his arm, hoping it would calm him down a little, “you okay?”

Mark only hums, tugging on his bag when you attempt to take it from him. “i’ll carry it,” he says. You kept quiet, not wanting to worsen his temper. 

The both of you quietly walk out of the building. 

“Can we take a walk?” you ask, looking up at your husband.

He looks down at you and raises his eyebrows. Truthfully, he was already exhausted, but he would do anything you wanted. Mark shrugs, going with the flow.

The both of you started your walk in silence. Your husband had both hands tucked in his pockets with his lips pursed. You took multiple glances at the boy, wondering how you should comfort him. 

After hesitating for a while, you wait until he has his hands out of his pockets. When you notice that he finally has his warm hands untucked, you instantly grab it in yours. 

A smile form on your lips, when you hold on tightly onto his hands. 

“Aw, she was trying to comfort you!”

“Wanna talk about it?” you speak up, tightening your grip on his hands. 

Mark smiles, “not really, just thankful that I have you,” he says. You feel his thumb softly stroke the back of your hand, “you’re too good to me, Y/N.”

You scoff, “what do you mean? You are literally my soulmate, whenever you fall, I go down with you,” you reassure him. You nudge his shoulder with yours, “I’ll always be the shoulder you can lean on. No matter how bad it is, I’ll always be by your side.”

“How do you usually comfort Mark during his bad days?”

“He doesn’t talk about his feelings often,” you say, letting out a short chuckle. “But it’s pretty obvious, he isn’t very discreet with his emotions,” you laugh, nudging the boy next to you. 

“Depending on how bad it is, I would try to leave him alone until he calls out for me.”

“Why won’t you talk about how you feel?”

“I have always grown up with this mindset- never give off negative energy to anyone who hasn’t done anything wrong,” he blurts out. “I feel like a burden whenever I would talk about my problems to anyone- not just Y/N.”

“I feel very thankful whenever he talks about his problems,” you say to the camera. “I feel proud that I am the one he could lean on.”

Episode 50

“Mark Lee is back!” 

Series of claps could be heard from the room. 

“I heard you had received multiple awards from MAMA!”

Another agrees, “that’s right! NCT won Favourite Male Group and Worldwide Fans' Choice Top 10! Congratulations to NCT!” 

Another series of claps filled the room. 

“Thank you so much! My group wouldn’t have received the award without all the loving support from all my fans,” Mark expresses his gratitude. 

The show started with you sitting on the couch comfortably. You were deeply concentrated on watching something in front of you. 

“What is she watching?”

The camera zooms out until the casts takes notice the television planted on the wall. The casts recognizes the ceremony playing on the television. 

You were waiting for your husband’s group to start performing so you can take videos and pictures. 

After watching the ceremony, you recognize the introduction to one of your husband’s songs. You sit up straight in excitement, fishing out your phone, ready to film his performance. 

You had purposely took bad photos of your husband so you could laugh at them later with him. 

15 minutes later, the performance ended. Even though you’re backstage, you still softly clapped at the end of his performance. 

“Everytime I see Mark perform, I feel so shocked that we have such a talented guy on our show,” one of them says, making Mark chuckle. 

“He was born to be a star,” another comments.

After a few more performances by other groups, it was time for the award ceremony. 

You were extremely anxious for this. You hoped all the times that Mark had came home in the middle of the night only to leave again early in the morning or how he would injure himself but would still perform with full energy for his fans would be worth it. 

You bit your lip anxiously, your palms had turned sweaty from the long wait of the awaited name. 

“The Best Male Group of 2020 goes to...” the announcer trails off, opening the card that held the winner. 

“Congratulations to BTS for being the Best Male Group of the year!”

You let out a huff, throwing your head back tiredly. 

“You seemed really stressed,”

You nod, agreeing with them, “truthfully, I have seen Mark work really hard this year. It pained me to see him suffer so much and not being able to tell anyone.”

“Next, let’s see the nominated groups for Favourite Male Group!” says the announcer. The screen fills with different groups with their names. 

You take a deep breath, sitting up again to watch the ceremony. Your lips purse in concentration.

“The Favourite Male Group of 2020 goes to...” the announcer trails off, opening the golden card. 

A smile forms on their lips, “Congratulations to NCT for being the Favourite Male Group of 2020!”

You let out a gasp, looking at the stylists who was also watching the ceremony. 

“Oh my god!” you squeal, “they said NCT, right? I didn’t hear it wrongly, right?” you ask everyone in the room. 

The stylists nods, “its NCT!”

Your hand goes over your mouth in shock. 

“Her reaction is so adorable,”

You watch the boys walk up on stage. Taeyong is the one to step forward to give his speech, followed by Johnny in english. 

Finally your husband steps up. 

“Wow,” he starts, his fans starts to scream louder. “this is so crazy. I want to start by thanking Lee Sooman for giving me the opportunity to be part of NCT. Next, thank you to our stylist and coordinator for the awesome outfits- we would never be able to win this award without the unique outfits and make up!” 

He takes a deep breathe, “and of course, our dearest fans. Thank you for always supporting us, and giving us the opportunity to be on stage with this award,” he smiles when he hears his fans cheers. “Lastly, my wife who has always been by my side even during my ugliest side. Thank you for never giving up on me always bringing the best out of me.”

A grin forms on your lips, you soon became flustered from the coos coming from around you. 

“I can’t wait to meet our little one soon. I love you, Y/N. Thank you,” he ends his speech, stepping off stage. 

“Wait! What do you mean little one?!”

“I have been pregnant for 15 weeks now,” you say happily. “We have been trying for a baby for a while now, and we are officially having a kid soon!”

The whole casts starts freaking out. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” they scolded Mark. 

“We would like to ask the fans for the upmost support,” Mark adds. “With that, this would be our last episode as a We Got Married Couple.”

“This is a huge surprise!”

“We had so much memories on the show,” Mark admits. 

“I had such a fun time on here, but for now, Mark and I had agreed that we want to put all of our focus on our baby,” you added.

“Wow... this is a happy ending,” the casts says. 

“We would like to thank Mark Lee and Y/N for their contribution to the show,” they added. 

“We really enjoyed watching you and Y/N being cute!”

“Thank you so much,” Mark bow, “it was an honour to come on this show,” Mark says, “I had so much fun, thank you so much for everything.”

“Thank you so much Mark. We hope you have a wonderful journey from now on and congratulations to your first child!”

[weareallstoriesintheend]

Just Give Me Time (Charlie Barber x Reader)

Summary: One day when going through Charlies night stand you find something you really didn't expect to find.

Warnings: Angst, infidelity, cheating, mentions of divorce

Word Count: 1,907

You were bustling around Charlie’s apartment filling up a small backpack ready for the day. It was a warm Saturday afternoon and the plan was already lain out; you were going out to photograph the new vintage fair that had come into the city a couple of weeks ago. You and Charlie rarely had days out, both of you makes excuses of being too tired from work so the principle of getting an outing with your boyfriend made you giddy! Charlie had already promised to treat you to as many cotton candies and ice cream you could muster, watching you bounce around like a little excited kid made his heart swell with joy.

“Charlie!” you called out throughout the apartment “Where did you put the little bag for the digital camera?”

“Ummm… try my night stand” he said absentmindedly, rustling around in the bags to get them ready.

You pulled your eyebrows down in confusion popping your head round the door, “Why would they be-“ but he was already walking away from you into the kitchen. You rolled your eyes and figured you’d give his suggestion a shot.

Making your way into the bedroom you slid open the top drawer on his side of the bed.

You didn’t even register what you were looking at at first, brain still in a rush to find this camera bag and get out the door, but then your eyes focussed a little more on what was in front of you.

For some reason you sunk to your knees, almost following your stomach which had dropped down to your feet. The voice in the back of your brain reminded you that you’d never been in this drawer, not that you’d had a reason too. Charlie kept his reading material, phone and glasses on the top of the stand, condoms in the bottom drawer and medications in the bathroom so why else would you need to go in here.

But now you knew why.

Sitting in the back of the drawer on Charlie’s side of the bed was a simple gold ring on top of a picture of a little boy, probably about 7 or 8 years old.

Walking back into the living room you could see Charlie packing the last few things into your bag, on any other occasion you would see this as a sweet gesture but right now you could barely stand to look at him. Your eyes almost immediately dragged themselves away from him as your stomach churned. “What’s this?” you asked in a small voice, trying to keep your tone neutral. A tiny part of you was hoping there was a reasonable explanation. Your hands shook a little holding the two items out to him, surely there had to be another reason?

Maybe the ring was his grandads and it was a gift when he passed away? Maybe the boy was a nephew you didn’t know about?

Charlie turned to you smiling, looking from your face down to your outstretched hands, and stopped dead in his tracks. The sudden twist of his features told you everything you needed to know. Instant silent tears began to drip steadily down your cheeks as the reality washed over you.

“Are you married?” despite your determination to keep your voice level having to utter those words made you tremble. Despite how nauseous the words made you it had to be him that told you, no room for presumptions or assuming the worst – you needed to hear him say it.

“S-sweetheart, listen I-“

“Are you married?” you shouted, anger and humiliation bubbled over and you couldn’t bear to hear him stammer.

A simple, quiet reply was all that followed, “Yes”

You scoffed in shock and held your stomach tight, fighting the bile that threatened to rise up. Your legs felt like they wanted to collapse again, like everything in your body was telling you to ground yourself in this ridiculous reality.

“We’re divorcing!” Charlie rushed out, taking a step towards you. Holding your hand up you stopped him, not wanting him to come any closer to you let alone touch you. Your skin crawled as his fingers stayed outstretched.

“Do you think that matters?” you spat; he waved his hands in response like he was attempting to get words to come out. You noticed that they were shaking as he did so.

You continued in his silence, “We’ve been seeing each other for nearly 9 months Charlie! You didn’t think to mention that you were still married?”

He nodded, “Of course I did but… it’s complicated”

“OH I’m sure it is!”

You looked down at the little collection you had in your hands, the tip of your thumb played with the worn gold band but you were focussed on the picture that was below it.

“Your son?” you asked accusingly, holding it up for him to see.

He nodded again, this was the quietest you’d seen Charlie in a long time and you were almost pleased, “Henry”

“Cute name” you sniffed and wiped the cascading tears away roughly with the back of your hand.

A deathly uncomfortable silence fell over the room; all that could be heard was Charlie’s laboured breathing and your sniffles. It was a pathetic scene to say the least. Suddenly, like a white hot flash, you realised you were still clutching the picture with his wedding ring and you felt dirty. You unceremoniously dropped them onto the side table next to you, fighting the temptation to wipe your hands down your jeans.

There was no real shouting, no screaming, throwing things and calling him names. The reality was dumbstruck silence. You felt like you’d been hit by a truck, your limbs shook and your stomach ached. Blinking your eyes you tried to push away the tears and the fact that your head felt like it was spinning.

You were the other woman, at the ripe old age of 28 you were a mistress. It made your blood boil in your veins to think you’d been tricked into hurting another woman.

“How did I not know?” a question for yourself as well as him, you stood shaking your head in disbelief as you received no reply, “I’m so stupid!”

Charlie stuttered, no words making an appearance before his shoulders slumbered and his voice quietened. You stared at him, eyes wide with the horror at his lack of even a defence.

“I’m going home” you said turning frantically to find your jacket and bag.

“Please wait…” Charlie whispered, now the tears began spilling down his cheeks as he spoke up. You noticed how his bottom lip shook as he reached out for you and it made your stomach twist with a strange sympathy. His large hands grappled with your forearms as you tried to stand back from him but his grip was strong enough to hold you.

You gasped a little as he dug his fingers into your skin in desperation, “You’re hurting me” you whimpered and he instantly let go.

“I love you”

Staring up at him you didn’t know whether to slap him or hold him, his face held the picture of complete grief. You shook your head in response and now it was your turn to stutter, lowering your gaze to the floor you kept your eyes on your feet.

Before you could really form words he kept speaking, “I love you! I love you! I love you!” he gasped in a breath and his hands returned to cover your forearms.

“Please don’t go. I… I should have told you. I was going too! But I was scared I would lose him”

Those words caused your eyes to snap up to his face. He nodded, “I thought she would go after me if she knew…. I would never see my son again!” and then it was like something snapped inside him and his towering body crumpled.

Slipping down to his knees he rested his palms on your hips, curling his fingers to grip the material of your jumper. Your body swayed with the force of his actions and your hands found steadying purchase on his broad heaving shoulders. Charlie sobbed, unabashed and completely broken, into your body. Your own tears joined in and you couldn’t help but weave your fingers into his hair and stroke gently along his scalp.

“Please just… give me time to explain everything. There’s so much… I-I can’t…” he cried, coughing and spluttering around his sobs.

“Charlie I-“

“Please!” he practically screamed, in that moment he gazed up at you and your heart shattered once again.

Nothing about him felt malicious or cruel; he was just a lost man who didn’t know what to do. A man whose own actions caused a whirlwind in his life that he didn’t know how to control. A man who just loved his son.

“I-I’m also going to need time” you stuttered, bending down to his level. He still sobbed violently remaining clutched too you as best as he could. Your brain felt like it was rattling in your skull, mere moments ago you were happily in love with the most amazing, brilliant, strong dependable man and now…. now you didn’t know anything.

You stroked back his ruffled hair that was sticking to the tears on his face, snot ran down his top lip from the force of his sobs and you scrunched your jumper sleeve to wipe it away. He nodded rapidly in response to your statement, chewing on his bottom lip to stop it from wobbling, and brought his hands up to cup your face.

“Do you understand that I never meant to hurt you?” he asked, “You are the one thing, other than my son, that has kept me alive through all this fucking shit! You are the one thing that makes me happy. Everything is so… fucked up!”

Everything was so fucked up. Everything was so confusing and you didn’t know what the right answer was here. Part of you wanted to walk out and never come back; your friends would scold you for even still being here. They’d tell you that Charlie lied for 9 whole months! And that divorce or no divorce he was a married man with a child who had stakes in all this. A young kid who would live his whole life affected by your actions from here on out.

But this was the problem - you loved Charlie, that’s why it was confusing. You loved him more than anyone you’d ever met and you just couldn’t let yourself make this so cut and dry. Your heart ached to see Charlie cry and… you didn’t know the situation really. For all you knew his soon to be ex-wife was the worst person alive and she deserved everything she got.

You tried to convince yourself of that but honestly it wasn’t all that convincing. She was probably just some normal woman just like Charlie was some normal man. Maybe she fucked him up, maybe she didn’t.

In this moment you realised you didn’t want to save him. But maybe you could still love him. You were making no promises other than to hear him out, with the ever present threat that you could decide to leave him and never come back if this situation didn’t feel right.

Reaching up you brushed back tears from his flushed cheeks, you nodded once to confirm you understood.

“Just… give me time”

[nightwishesworld]

Babysitting (Part 1)

You and Alcina are roped into taking care of your friend's daughter for a few days. Alcina is...less than excited about it. I mean, come on, a baby in Castle Dimitrescu? What could possibly go wrong?!

***********************

The warmth of the afternoon sun crept its way into the windows of Castle Dimitrescu. Both you and Alcina decided it was a beautiful day to take your afternoon tea in the gardens instead of the library . Blooms grew in newly fragranced air, the sweet petals that fluttered reflected by the honeyed-sweetness within. The garden birds always warm your heart. They bring so much joy just from watching them play and dance around the hedges. There are so many of them out today, large and small, brown, red-capped, and golden stripped. You love listening to their chirping, each singing its own beautiful song.

Alcina held your hand over the table as she sipped her special blend of tea.

“Oh, Darling, did I tell you Cristofor and Lucia are going out of town? He says it’s for business but honestly, I think they just want to have a break from the baby. I mean, I don’t blame them, it’s their first kid and you know how hectic everything’s been for them lately."

Alcina nods. “Yes, well, it didn’t help that they were a little unprepared for baby Julianna. That’s her name, right? I remember we offered to buy a few things for them before she was born.”

“Yeah, that’s it, but I just call her Jewel. My precious little gem. I guess they’re gonna be gone for the extended weekend and need someone to watch her.”

Alcina scoffs. “I pity those they choose.”

“Oh stop it, Alcina, it won’t be that bad.”

She stops what she’s doing, nearly choking on her tea, and just stares at you. “You didn’t. You did not! Please for the love of Mother Miranda tell me you didn’t say we would take care of her!”

Your silence was all the answer she needed.

“Why would you do that? Castle Dimitrescu is no place for a baby!”

“Tell that to Cris! I tried telling him that and all he did was assure me that everything would be fine. They feel Jewel would be safest in our care; they were practically begging, Al. What was I supposed to say?”

“No?” You roll your eyes at her. “What about their family? Are they really not available?”

“Lucia said she would feel guilty asking her folks to do any more for them. They usually watch her every day Cris and Lucia are at work. Imagine that plus three straight days; I would want a break too.”

Alcina stayed silent.

“They’re gonna stop by in a few days with some stuff, like diapers and toys and things.”

Alcina huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m so glad you discussed the details so thoroughly with them.”

“I figured you would say no. Look, I’m sorry I went behind your back but they really need a babysitter and they don’t trust anyone as they do us. Besides, I’m Jule’s unofficial aunt, I don’t think I can say no to something like this. I know you don’t like kids, but-”

“What are you talking about? I love seeing little Julianna.”

“You do? Cause every time they come to visit you seem kind of...distant”

“I don’t...I don’t like holding her. She’s too tiny and fragile for someone like me to be holding.”

“Someone like you?” Then it dawned on you. “Oh, Alci. You don’t actually believe that, do you? You’re always so gentle with her.”

“Because if I’m not delicate I’ll crush her.” Alcina’s face held sorrow to it, not evident to most individuals.

“You wouldn’t crush her, Alci. I know you better than that. You literally came running into my study the other day because I screamed ‘spider,’ and then carried me out because I lost sight of it. You’re a lot more gentle than you’re giving yourself credit.You're a good, thoughtful, and gentle person Alci. Anyone who can’t see that is purely idiotic,” I muttered under my breath.

“I suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world, having a baby running around the castle. And we have time to babyproof everything.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard, love, she’s only seven months old. She’s only just starting to learn how to crawl.”

You were talking but Alcina wasn’t listening. She was too busy making a mental checklist of everything that needed to be done before baby Julianna arrived. “Hmm? Oh yes, of course, darling. Do you know where they got those baby gates? We’re going to need quite a few of them.”

“Alci, I don’t think we’ll need-” She’s already walked away. “ Hey, at least you’re embracing it?”

True to his word, Cris arrived at the castle three days later with a carriage full of supplies. You wanted to welcome them with Alcina, but the matriarch was nowhere to be found. The past few days for her have been spent deep cleaning the walls and floors, which really sucked, especially for Bela, Cassi, and Dani. They stuck doing the hard labor as Alcina bossed them around.

You greeted him with a tight hug. “Thank god you’re here. Alcina’s going crazy trying to babyproof everything. I don’t think the castle’s ever been this protected. Or this clean,” I muttered the last part under my breath.

Cris put a hand over his heart. “Oh, she doesn’t have to do that! Julianna can barely crawl five feet. Besides, I know for certain this place is much neater than our house, even on a bad day. She would have been perfectly fine.”

“I tried to tell her to not worry so much, but it just goes in one ear and out the other. Perhaps if she hears it from you she’ll finally listen,” I rolled my eyes playfully.

Cris nods. “And you wonder why I think Julianna’s so safe up here. I’ll be sure to mention it to Alcina. Do you wanna unload this stuff now or wait for her?”

You glance behind him to the carriage. There were a few large bags filled with miscellaneous items as well as a few larger things on the back seat not bagged at all like the playpen. “I don’t even know where she is, Cris. And I’d offer to have the girls help, but they’re hiding from Alci. Let’s just get started. We can put it in the lounge in the foyer until Alcina comes around.”

“Sounds like a plan. Some of this stuff I’ll bring more of when we drop her off, like diapers, you’ll never have enough diapers,” he says as he tosses you a bag.

“So you’ve said. Didn’t you have a nightmare about it once?”

“Before Lucia even went into labor. We ran out and every shop in a 50-mile radius was sold out. To date, it’s one of my worst nightmares.”

You laughed. “So where are you guys going? I mean, really going. You don’t actually think I believe that crap about a Mortician Expo, do you?”

Cris gave you a look of skepticism and stayed silent as if he were planning his next move.

“Relax man, I don’t actually care. Taking care of a baby is more work than I can imagine. I would want a break too!” The statement seemed to ease him.

“Nowhere special. We made reservations at a nice hotel a few hours south of here; it’s got a pool, hot tub, couples massages, the works!”

You nod, tossing the last of the bags by the lounge. “Nice! You guys deserve it, like I said, I can’t imagine how much work taking care of Julianna is.”

“You won’t have to in a few days,” he laughed.

“I’m excited now, but something tells me I won’t be in a few days. Just sleep deprived!”

“Nah you’ll love it. It’s just, well only slightly tiring! That’s all. Should we go looking for Alcina? I wanna go over Julianna’s schedule with both of you.”

“She knew you were coming so she should be here any minute now. I’m sure she just lost track of time bossing the girls around. The entire west wing has been baby-proofed and when I mean the entire wing, I mean the entire wing. She had Daniela take down all of the ornate weapons and armor from the walls while Bela and Cassi scrubbed everything. And that was just this morning.”

“I’ll be sure to thank them then,” Cris chuckled lightheartedly.

As if on cue, you can just make out the sound of high heels rushing down the corridor, only to stop abruptly just around the corner. Knowing Alcina she was probably adjusting herself to look like her usual well-presented way. Sure as rain, Alcina approached looking as elegant as ever. “Oh Cristofor, please forgive me. It’s been total chaos around here- I completely lost track of time and-”

Cris waved it off and took her hand in his, bringing it up so he could kiss her wedding ring. “Think nothing of it, Alcina. I heard you’ve been keeping yourself busy.”

The matriarch sent you a glare that you shrug off with a smug smile.

“You don’t need to worry about anything, Alcina. I know my little girl will be in the best care possible up here. There’s no one Lucia and I trust more.”

“That is one very generous statement, Cristofor, but a castle is still no place for a baby, especially this one.”

“That may hold some truth, but most of all that...messy business stays in the basement, right?”

“All of it does,” you answer for Alcina. “Even I’m not allowed down there and we’ve been married for three and a half years!”

“And for good reason,” Alcina says. “You know what goes on down there. Why would I put my wife’s life in danger?”

You were about to retaliate but Cris wrapped his arms around the both of you. “Let’s just get this stuff upstairs, huh? Far the fuck away from the basement and whatever goes on down there.”

Alcina opens her mouth but Cris shakes his head profusely. “Nope, don’t want to know. Let’s just get to the bedroom. Wow, the walls do look bare.”

“Indeed,” Alcina nodded. “It’s a good thing little Julianna is staying, I should have had the walls deep cleaned nearly decades ago,” she let out an elegant laugh.

“I hope you didn’t do all this just for us.” Cris looked in awe as the various portraits and ornate weapons decorating the walls became more scarce as they neared the master bedroom. It made this part of the castle feel abandoned. The chemical smell of cleaning solvents was strong, but it would surely be gone in time for Julianna’s arrival.

“Of course I did. You are family and you deserve nothing but the best possible care.”

Cristofor shakes his head. "You're a good woman, Alcina. I genuinely hope you know that."

She gives him a warm smile while holding the bedroom door open for him. "I try to be."

"So," he sets down his two large boxes of supplies to rub his back. "Where do you want this stuff?"

"At the foot of the bed for now," you shrug. "Alcina and I will organize everything once it's all here."

He nodded and kicked it lazily to the end of the bed and took a seat on the mattress. "If we wanna be lazy we could shove the rest of the boxes in the playpen and carry it all up in one trip."

"We can do that," you smiled. "Then we can start organizing everything."

"And while we're doing that I'd like to walk you through Julianna's schedule. Lucia made you a copy with a couple of notes on how to do specific things...it's all well let’s just say pretty detailed," he laughed.

A look of fear crossed over the matriarch's face for a moment. "Why don't I go grab it? Then you two can start unpacking. If I run into the girls I'll send them up as well."

"Oh leave the girls alone," you shake your head at the matriarch. "They're already hiding from you."

Alcina lets out an exasperated laugh. "Can you believe that, Cristofor? My own daughters are hiding from me!" Alcina exclaimed with a look of sheer amusement on her face.

"Nothing I'm looking forward to." You started unpacking the many boxes of  diapers and arranging them neatly on the already emptied shelves while Cris made himself comfortable sitting on the floor, unpacking blankets and clothes. He unfolded and refolded them in a perfect square and placed them on top of the hope chest. You smiled at each plush blanket bearing a different pattern and color.

"Where can I put her clothes?"

"Um, just on the bed for now. I don't know if Alcina emptied out a drawer yet. It would be that middle one if you wanna check."

You hear almost all the joints in his legs crack as he stands and makes his way over to the dresser. He grips the knobs but pauses before opening them. "I'm not gonna find anything dirty in here, am I?"

"Not in there, no."

He turns back to you with an arched brow and hung jaw. You only laugh at him.

"Is it cleared out?"

He nods, neatly organizing the various onesies and pajama sets.

He busied himself displaying various lotions and powders on the coffee table, which would act as your changing station.

“What can I do?” Alcina asked, staring down anxiously at the various bottles.

Cris thought for a moment before taking two smaller boxes out of the playpen and pushing them towards the vampire. “These are for bath time." He quickly scanned over the contents to make sure he was correct. "This box is shampoos, soaps, and toys. Julianna loves bath time; the more toys and games the better." Alcina smiled. “And this box is her special duck towel, washcloth- also a duck pattern she loves ducks, two non-slip bath mats for both inside and outside the tub, and a sponge.”

She looked a tad overwhelmed again taking in all the items but took the boxes nonetheless. “Good thing I cleared out cupboard space, right darling?”

You wanted to laugh but restrained yourself to biting the inside of your cheek instead. “Yes, dear.”

"Well, that's everything. Oh, and don't worry about a crib. Lucia and I are bringing it when we drop Julianna off."

Alcina shook her head and simply waved him off. "Oh don't bother, Cristofor. We have one she's more than welcome to use."

You gave her a confused look. "Um, no we don't."

"Yes, we do. I just have to grab it out of storage. If you'd like to wait and see if it's up to your standards you're more than welcome to." It wasn't so much of an invitation as it was a plea.

Cris laughed. "Alcina, I told you anything you have is probably way better than ours. I'm sure it's fine."

"It would make me feel a lot better," Alcina said with a hint of desperation in her voice.

"Alright, whatever it takes to make you feel better about this."

Alcina sighed in relief and rushed down the hall.

"She really is worked up about this isn't she?"

You let yourself collapse back onto the bed. "You have no idea. She's been fretting over everything since I told her three whole days ago!"

"I kinda figured she would be the calm one between the two of you since, you know, she's got three kids already."

You feigned a look of hurt. "Ok first of all, ouch my pride! Secondly, all three of the girls were turned when they were adults. Which is why I wanna know where this supposed crib came from."

He turned back to you. "And you know what you're doing?"

"Of course not, but one of us has to be calm about it."

Cris laughed, letting himself lounge back on his elbows. Any further down and he was afraid he would fall asleep. "I guess that's true. You're gonna be great though, both of you. Just the fact that you're worrying about all this stuff tells me you're really dedicated to keeping Julianna safe and happy here."

"Thanks, man. I think I really needed to hear that. Got any advice to help us prepare?"

He slaps a hand on your thigh and gives it a friendly squeeze. "Have as much sex as you can before she's here. Because once she is, you'll be way too tired to even think about it."

You sit up and look at him incredulously, which earns him a hearty laugh. "I asked you for advice on how to keep your baby alive and you tell me to bone my wife?"

"All I'm saying is Lucia and I haven't been able to do it since before Julianna was born," Cris whispered in all seriousness.

Alcina returned carrying what you can only assume is the crib covered with a sheet. Bela stepped in first to hold the door open for her.

"Thank you, darling. I found my one good daughter to help me. Not the rascals this time!"

Cris laughs. "I see that."

The blonde nodded and joined you both on the bed. "Hello, y/n. Hello, Uncle Cris."

"Good to see you, Bela."

“Alright,” you hop off the bed. “Let’s see this crib that we apparently have just laying around.”

Alcina rolls her eyes and yanks the dusty sheet away, revealing the most beautiful baby crib you have ever seen. Polished solid dark oak frame with solid gold detailing wrapping around the bars like vines. The Dimitrescu House Crest is shining proudly on both sides.

A smug grin plastered itself on Alcina’s face knowing she single-handedly put an end to your snarky remarks.

“Holy shit,” you finally say. “And you had this in storage…just because?”

The question made her uncomfortable, you could tell. A shadow cast over Alcina’s face. “I had it made a while back and forgot about it until now. I’m glad it stayed in such pristine shape. Any polishes used on it were water-based and non-toxic. Perfect for a baby to slobber on,” she chuckles almost a bit uncomfortably.

Cris shook his head as he ran a hand across the smooth wooden framework. “I don’t know what to say, Alcina. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

“Only the best for our favorite niece.”

Cris clapped his hands together and pulled out a few pieces of paper from his back pocket. "Now, onto Julianna's schedule. Lucia tried to be as helpful as possible when writing it down, but she said if you have any questions just ask her when we drop her Jules off."

Both of you nodded as he handed them to you. Bela situated herself on your bed with one of the plushies he brought over just because.

 Daily Routine

7 am- wake up and bottle feed 8 ounces for about 20 minutes (doesn't have to be one the dot if she's still sleeping. It's a rare occurrence for her to sleep in, but it could happen

7:30- playtime on the floor or outside (we usually keep her inside this early in the morning but either is perfectly suitable)

8:00- breakfast (something solid-ish. Like oatmeal and fruit chunks)

8:30- more play 

Between 9-9:30- bottle-feed 6 ounces for 15 minutes then naptime

11:00- wake up and play (she loves her building blocks and rattle)

Noon- lunch (baby food! Fruit or veggie) (she'll probably refuse solids but don't take no for an answer! Even just a few are ok if she's especially cranky)

12:30- play (peek-a-boo in the mirror! she gets a kick out of it every time. 

1:30- bottle-feed 6 ounces and nap (Congrats! you're halfway there)

3:30- wake up and play (try using the hand puppets and engage her in nursery rhymes)

4:00- bottle feed four ounces for roughly 20 minutes

5:00- dinner (more baby food. Whichever one she didn’t have for lunch)! Same as the morning, she'll probably refuse)

5:30-play (maybe go for a walk if you haven't already?)

6:30- bath time! (see added note for specific bathtime notes. She loves hearing her little rubber ducky squeak)

7:00- bottle-feed 8 ounces then time for bed (good luck trying to sleep and getting her to sleep)

1:30 am- bottle feed again (she’ll wake you up when she’s hungry don’t worry)

Breastmilk can be refrigerated for five days and I’ve given you more than enough to hold her over. Protect it with your lives! Breast Milk is liquid gold!

 You read the note over a couple of times before handing it to Alcina who looked just as overwhelmed as you. "That is so much."

"Not enough," Alcina says at the same time.

Cris laughs. "Wanna see what she wrote for bathtime?"

Alcina took the second not from him.

 Bathtime Tips

Make sure the adhesive mats are set down before bath time begins. One in the tub one outside

Make sure you have everything you need nearby; towel, washcloth, toys (especially her duck), shampoos, lotion, clean clothes, and a diaper

It’s easiest (and less painful) to sit on a stool or something instead of standing and bending over

ALWAYS KEEP A HAND ON HER!

Take off any jewelry and be sure to wash your hands

Check the water temp with the inside of your wrist- it should be warm (not too hot or too cold)

Dry and dress her on the floor (hence the second mat) 

Squirty toys! (The duck is her favorite as it also squeaks)

Plastic boats that she can push around

Whale-shaped basin for rinsing hair

Once she’s all dry she can go right in her crib

 "Sweet Satan, Cristofor. This is a lot of information. I mean, the more the better but..."

You take her hand in yours and kiss the top of her knuckles. "It's alright, Love, we've got this. If anyone can manage this it's us."

She nods but doesn't really believe your words. You can see the doubt reflecting in her eyes. "You're right."

"It looks way more complicated than it is, ladies. You just put her in the tub, don't let her drown, clean her, and take her out. Boom, simple as that."

Alcina lets out a relieving chuckle and you thank him silently.

 *******************************************************************************************

You lay awake that night unable to fall asleep. Alcina is awake too, but you don't dare speak to her. She's too lost in her own world to be bothered with your nonsense. But it was starting to eat you alive from the inside out. You looked over at it sitting across the room. Its existence is mocking you to the point where you can almost hear it laughing at you.

You finally break the silence. “Who’s even is it? You turned the girls when they were adults, right?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

You hear her sigh. “Yes of course all of them. Now please, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“But you had to have a reason, Al. No one just has a crib as intricate as that made out of the blue.”

“It doesn’t matter,” her tone grew sharper. “We have it now for Julianna and that’s what matters.”

“I guess so, but…” you turn your body to face her. Her silhouette is laying on her back staring up at the ceiling. “D-did you try having a baby with someone else and…”

She turns to look at you with wide golden eyes. Not angry, but certainly not expecting that line of questioning. You immediately regret opening your mouth.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-“ Alcina silences your ramblings with a searing kiss. One you happily return.

“It’s nothing like that, my love. My only children are ours. I had it made last year when Lucia first told us she was pregnant. I remember how excited you were for them. You did so much to help her get ready, for both of them, really.” Alcina smiled and reached blindly for your hand. “And every time they come up to visit your eyes just light up when you see Julianna. You’re so good with her, iubirea mea.”

A shadow of guilt passed over her face. “I overheard you talking to Lucia about wanting kids of your own.”

Your heart plummeted down to the pit of your stomach.

“You love our daughters with your entire heart, but it’s not the same as raising your own flesh and blood. Every time I saw you holding little Julianna or singing to her I pictured you with our baby. So, I got all excited and, albeit, ahead of myself and had the crib made.”

“For our baby,” you finished with a genuine smile.

Alcina nodded. “I wanted to wait for you to bring up the conversation before saying anything about it, and” her voice cracks. “You never did. I didn’t understand why at first. You would produce such a beautiful baby with or without me.” Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes threatening to cascade down her cheeks. “Then one night it just sort of hit me; why would you want to share something as precious and innocent as a baby with a monster like me?”

Tears flowed freely from her eyes and sobs racked her body, it broke your heart. Without thinking you throw yourself at Alcina and wrap her tightly in your arms. The vampire happily buries her face in the crook of your neck and cries her heart out. You thread your fingers through her hair to help soothe her.

“Oh, my love, I’m so sorry. Don’t you ever refer to yourself as a monster ever again, do you hear me? You are no monster, Alcina Dimitrescu. How can someone as loving, and soft, and generous like you be anything besides an angel?”

“Oh stop pretending, y/n. I’m a genetically mutated freak! The baby would take one look at me and start wailing,” Alcina let out a frustrated huff.

“Stop it, Alcina. Our baby would adore you just like Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela do. Julianna loves you to pieces! She gets so excited every time you walk in the room.”

Alcina sniffled. “She does that with everyone.”

“Because she likes us, Al.”

A beat of awkward silence passed between the two of you until you finally felt her breathing steady.

“You want to have a baby with me?”

You couldn’t contain your smile as she nodded ever so slightly into your neck. “Why didn’t you say anything before? We could have talked about it months ago. The only reason I never brought it up was that I assumed you didn’t want any more children running amuck in the castle. Imagine if they turned out to be just like Daniela.”

That got her to laugh a little. “I wouldn’t mind a baby running around; especially if they look like you.”

“Well I don’t know about that considering we would have to adopt.”

A mischievous smile crept on Alcina’s lips. “Who says we can’t have a baby ourselves?”

“Um, nature? We’re both women, Alcina. I don’t think I have to explain to you how that won’t work.”

Alcina chuckles into your neck. “We’d have quite the brood running around the castle if it did.”

“Then you want to find a donor?” She detached herself from you just enough to give you a look of disgust. “Of course not; no one is allowed to touch my y/n except me.” She flips you both over so you’re pinned underneath her. “There are ways we could have a baby, you know?”

A blush covered your cheeks down to your chest. “O-oh?”

“Mmhm. The old witch in the village could brew something up for us, should we choose to carry.” She laughs at your dumbfounded expression. “It would be a sex change tonic of sorts. Temporary of course, I believe it only lasts a week.”

You blush furiously.

“And depending on the portions of ingredients she uses we could change the erm, size, if you catch my drift.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, in real words at least. Something between a yelp and a whimper came out of your mouth instead. It gets a laugh out of Alcina at least.

“That’s really a thing we could do?”

She starts trailing kisses down your neck to your chest. “Oh yes,” her free hand comes up to pull your shirt down over your breasts. As soon as they pooled out of their confinement Alcina started circling one of your nipples with her tongue. “Would you like that, darling? To feel my cock pounding into you.”

Fuck you loved it when she talks dirty to you. But that turned you on more than you were willing to admit. You gave a shy nod.

Alcina rewards your honesty by taking your hardened nipple in her mouth and sucking. Her other hand moved up your body to rest on your other breast, gently kneading it like dough.

Alcina has always been fascinated with your breasts. Always burying her face in them when cuddling. She simply melted into them on bad days. Giving her a scalp massage at the same time earned you bonus points.

Her lips abandon your nipple, leaving a bridge of saliva still connecting you, and snuggled her face deep in between your breasts. She let out a long sigh and closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in the moment. Her eyes flutter open and you can see the corners of a smile buried in your chest. “What do you think, my love?”

“I think we should see how we do this weekend before making any big decisions.”

Alcina leaned forward only enough to kiss your lips. “Sounds like a plan.”