#partially my fault. Should have packed earlier. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dashielldeveron · 4 years ago

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and i’ve gotta crow | takami keigo

hawks x pro-hero! reader. quirk unspecified.

summary: “You’re suffering from amnesia,” says Hawks to you, in your hospital bed.

No, you are not.

“We’re engaged to be married.”

No, you are not.

After an accident that was that bastard Hawks’s fault, you decide to play along with your diagnosis of amnesia, among other things, because how far can you make your former bully bend over backwards for you?

fluff/trickery??? completely avoidable angst, bc reader is a little shit. hawks is a scumbag bully at first. reader is honestly kind of violent. dealing with acne in a scene.

When the first things you saw after groggily blinking your eyes open were multiple IVs in the back of your hand, you flipped over and snuggled farther into your hospital bed to deal with it later, but against your will you were forced to lie flat on your back to stare into the hospital fluorescents.

When the nurse fiddling with your IVs came into focus, he said, “You need to lie on your back. You have deep gashes on your lower abdomen, and tossing about too much could open the stitches.”

That sounded like bullshit, but you were too out of it to care. “Yeah, okay,” you said through a croak, “Oh, fuck.” You wrestled a hand to your throat, massaging it. “Am I waking up from a coma? Don’t let anyone see me until I’ve done my eyebrows.”

The nurse laughed through his nose. “No, don’t worry. You’ve barely been—” He cut himself off and frowned. “The news should probably be broken to you when you have emotional support. I’ll be back soon.”

He left.

Emotional support? Wouldn’t that fucking gash on your stomach be—ooh, ouch, don’t move.

Where’s your phone? Where’s your goddamn phone; where’s any of your personal belongings? If they got crushed, you’re killing Hawks on sight.

Hawks, oh, my God. Where is he? He’s dead. If he still has the audacity to bully you professionally—fuck.

He’d cornered you on patrol earlier—whenever that was—and cut into you in that casually, negging-type way that wasn’t enough to report but enough to make you stay up late and freak out about being good enough. It hurt your chest whenever you thought about it.

But this was the first time he’d gotten seriously physical.

He’d alit on the top of the warehouse next to you, landing what would have been haphazardly for anyone else (the arch of his feet against the edge, his toes barely touching roof) and had crouched next to you, his scarlet wings completely blowing your cover as they stretched and shuddered.

“What’s a little girl like you doing in this part of town?” Hawks had propped his chin on both his fists. “Thought shoplifters were more your calibre.”

“Hawks, this is actually really important to me, so please, please leave,” you’d said, keeping your eyes on the group you could barely make out through the skylight. They’d already been partially concealed by crates, so they were hard to see.

“Someone else give you a tip for their location?” He’d tapped your opposite shoulder with the end of his wing, but you hadn’t even flinched.

“Bruh, you know I’ve been on this for weeks,” you’d said, shifting away from him, “I even shared intel at your last briefing.”

“Is that what you were talking about?” Hawks had scratched his chin. “I zoned out. Usually the little cases female heroes present aren’t in my circle, and I like to unwind when brain power isn’t needed.”

You’d planned to rip his wings out feather by feather while you’d gritted your teeth. “You can’t talk to me like that, Hawks.”

He’d laughed, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “C’mon, babygirl, have a slice of chill, won’t you? I thought you were one of the cool girls. Relax. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“Leave me alone, Hawks. You’re not gonna bully me into joining your agency. You’re not gonna bully me into quitting being a hero,” you’d said, inwardly screaming, “I’d tell you to go talk to someone who’d fall for your shit, but then, she’d have to suffer, too. So, fuck off into a sewer, jackass.”

“Oof,” Hawks had said, placing a hand over his heart and shaking his head, “You don’t have to be such a bitch, sweetheart. I’m only looking for my better half. Didn’t think it could be you, but I’d thought I’d give you a chance to prove me wrong. Don’t take yourself too seriously; just be along for the ride like the rest of us.”

“Huh,” you had said, and you’d stood and strode to the edge of the warehouse to your harness and rope, and you rappelled down the side of it as stealthily as you came up.

“I’ve been watching you all these years, sweetness, and I know you by now; I know how you really feel,” Hawks had said a bit too loudly while he flew downwards at your speed (braggart). “Strip away all of your busy work, your so-called hero trappings, and we’d mesh together just fine. We may be rough around the edges, but we clean up really nicely, don’t we?”

You’d unclipped your carabiner and stepped out of your harness, stashing it in your pack. “Fuck off.”

You’d moved towards the back entrance, but Hawks had slammed a hand against the concrete wall in front of you. You’d ducked under it and carried on, and he’d grabbed the back of your shirt.

“C’mon, if we didn’t know each other, and our eyes met from across the room at some hero gala, you’d be all over me, wouldn’t you?”

You had swiped his hand away. “I’d be putting a lid on my drink.”

His arms behind his back, Hawks had followed you through the door and behind the exposed pipes and closer to your targets. “Saw you coming onto Todoroki at the last one. You looked fine in his colours, but you would’ve looked better in mine.”

Don’t grace him with an answer; don’t grace him with an ans— “I wasn’t coming onto Shoto,” you’d said, pulling yourself up a couple of pipes for a better view—and you’d hit him when he flapped his wings to hover the few feet you’d ascended, because the noise might alert them.

“Yeah, you just simp for him, right? Then you didn’t step outside your comfortable ice queen act?” Hawks had gripped onto a pipe just underneath your ass. “You’re too much of a natural tease for that.”

How can you report him when he’s the head of his own agency? You guess the commission might listen, but what can they do besides slap his wrist? There’s really no one who can stop him, is there?

You hadn’t replied but instead crawled onto the iron catwalk. If you could position yourself about three-quarters of the way across, you’d be able to effectively activate your quirk and get this over with—wait, why would you think like that? You’d been waiting for this for ages.

A hand spreading across the small of your back had reminded you.

You’d flipped over with fire in your eyes and kicked him away as quietly as you could, but all he’d done was sit back on his knees to grin down at you, army-crawling your way through a dirty warehouse.

Would he take credit for your work again?

You’d shaken yourself. Eat my entire ass, Hawks. And with that, you’d continued inching towards your targets. When you’d gotten into position to watch them, Hawks had merely watched you.

You had scowled. “I’m gonna tear you a—”

“You had a hard childhood, didn’t you?”

A chill had unfurled up your spine, simple as that. Hawks now not only had the annoying air of an arrogant pick-up artist but also gave you an intense sense of danger. You’d moved away from him, regrettably away from your target, but Hawks had followed you, getting closer until his body heat had seeped into yours, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his dumb face.

“I could take suuuuch good care of you, little girl,” he’d said under his breath, “if only you’d let me. No one else is crazy enough to call me out or want more than the bare minimum.” His wings had folded in on his back, making themselves as small as possible to get closer to you. “If you give in, tell me yes, say please, you wouldn’t have to let any worries cross your pretty little mind. All you have to do is let me in.”

“Yikes,” you had said, sucking in through your teeth, “God, you’re a creep.”

Hawks had slammed you down onto the catwalk, iron reverberating through the warehouse as it struck your head, and your targets had looked up by the time the catwalk hinges had loosened and had come crashing down in the midst of their meeting.

You’re really not supposed to shoot guns inside. Don’t they know that’ll ruin their ears? No matter, really. You had fought them anyway, amidst crates splintering open from whatever they were shooting at you—fuck, that was a big hole. What’s oozing out of that? Gross, don’t step in it.

One with a normal revolver—his arm had given a woody crack when you’d bent it backwards—God, that was nice. Good sounds. If you could sample them into a rap track, you would.

You’d been planning a collab with a popular rapper while you’d hurled yourself at another villain, sawdust flying—just to keep your mind busy, really, but fucking—fucking Hawks had bested whoever he’d half-assed to the ground and had shouted your way.

“C’mere, you little shit—”

He’d scooped you up while you’d been taking care of it by yourself, and he had pinned you down behind a stack of crates that reached the remains of the catwalk, straddling you but keeping most of his weight off, his wings outstretched yet still hidden from the cloud of sawdust rising with deep gurgling on the far side.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he’d said over the chaos, spit flying, “You can’t handle this; you’re gonna get fucking killed. I can’t babysit you all the time.”

“Get fucked; I’m the number fourteen hero,” you’d said, deadly still, but twitching in fury, “I can handle anyth—”

“Aww, fourteen. And one day babygirl might reach the single digits.” Hawks had sneered in your face. “If she manages to fuck her way through them.”

Your jaw had dropped, and you pretended to cough on sawdust and kicked him off in the confusion. Hawks had grabbed a hold of your calf, grappling for your thigh, while you’d scrambled to climb over crates to the gurgling mess on the other side; you could handle it, and you would.

You’d slapped his hands away, wrestled out of his grasp again and again, and you’d launched yourself into the dust—

Yeah.

While the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, you picked at a hangnail. You hadn’t braced yourself for the explosion, so, you guessed you deserved whatever was wrong with you now. Big-ass gashes on your stomach. Probably broken ribs. Something felt off in your left leg, besides—oh, ho, what had the doctors thought when they’d seen Hawks’s scratches?

What an idiot.

When the door creaked open, the nurse returned with a mug of water for you, but—what? Who’s that bitch following him?

You blinked, twice. With his hands in his pockets and his nasty little wings tucked in behind him, Hawks meandered to your bedside, his gaze on your throat as you swallowed down water.

God, you’re too tired to deal with him. Let’s get this over with.

The nurse glanced over his clipboard. “I’ve already told your partner this, but I thought you would want him here.”

Maybe if you ignore Hawks, he’ll leave.

“You were very brave today,” said the nurse, “Your work as a hero is greatly appreciated. You’re on temporary leave to heal, though. Like I said, you’ve got three, major gashes on your stomach, and your leg’s broken—the fibula split, if you want to know. You’ll be on crutches for a while. You have four broken ribs, and—” The nurse bit his lip and softened his voice. “You hit your head pretty hard. Nothing’s broken, but you should have amnesia, with the trauma you’ve endured.”

Should have? They don’t know? You sure as hell don’t fucking have amnesia. It barely happens in real life, and it definitely hasn’t happened to you. You remembered every fucking infuriating thing Hawks did to ruin your mission, and if he doesn’t square up—

“I’m so sorry, baby,” said Hawks, grabbing your hand. He stroked the back of it with his thumb, and then he took his glove off to hold you skin-to-skin. “You remember who I am?”

You just stared at him.

“Your fiancé’s been a real presence in the waiting room,” said the nurse, “He hardly stopped pacing the entire time you were in surgery. He wouldn’t even talk to fans.”

Oh, my God.

Holy fucking shit.

“Oops, sorry,” said the nurse, covering his mouth, “I know you were keeping it a secret. Don’t blame him, please; he only told me to be able to see you immediately.”

Shutting your eyes, you took a deep, deep breath. You have been handed a golden opportunity on a fucking Hawks-shaped platter, holy fuck, and by God are you going to take advantage of it. Imagine how much you can fucking humiliate him, how far you can take it. How much you can make him pay for how he treated you, and now, if he says he’s your fiancé, then he’s gonna fucking worship you. You’re going to mould him into your little bitch, and he’s going to thank you for it. And you’ll get endless dirt on him just by seeing his place.

Don’t fuck this up.

Exhaling, you opened your eyes, blinking a bit. You curled your lips into your mouth, biting the lower one. “I remember you’re Hawks,” you said in a nervous voice, “and I remember, uh.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” Hawks squeezed your hand, his tone kind. “It’ll come back in time.”

You clutched Hawks’s hand while the nurse rattled off instructions and gave you your crutches, and Hawks squeezed your hand back, softly smiling at you.

When the nurse left, you turned to Hawks and said, “I’m so, so sorry, but I—I feel like there’s something big missing that I can’t remember.” You scratched your forehead with your free hand, dragging the IVs with you.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Hawks tilted his head, still gazing decidedly down at you.

“Oh, God,” you said, “Oh, fuck. I don’t know. Um.” Take it back. Take it way back. That way he’ll dig himself into a deeper hole. The more lies he has to create, the funnier it’ll be. “Let’s see, I, hm.” You already weren’t speaking like yourself, but you looked upward as you faked combing through memories. “I don’t know how things work chronologically, but the most recent memory I have of you is—it’s after a press conference, and I’ve never been in the building before,” you said slowly, “And I can’t find the bathroom, but some press keeps following me, and I—I faceplant in between your shoulder blades, right between your wings. You—” You lowered your voice, shrinking a little in the hospital bed, “You got rid of them so easily, with just a gesture, and you put your arm around me. You were—” You shook your head, staring at both of your hands. “—so warm.”

Was that too thick? That was too thick, wasn’t it?

His free hand shot to his mouth, and he bit his knuckle. “But sweetheart, that’s,” said Hawks, his eyes watering, “That’s only around the third time we met.”

You know.

“Shit,” you said, widening your eyes, “How long ago was that?”

“Three years.” Hawks squeezed your hand and kept the pressure longer than was necessary. “Three fucking years. You don’t remember anything past that?”

You pretended to be scared to look at him. “I’m sorry; I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, you don’t have to be,” said Hawks, and he leant towards you to lift your chin, rubbing his thumb against it, “It’s not your fault.”

You had to hand it to him: Hawks was a good actor.

But so were you.

***

Hawks disappeared for a while after that, but he manifested the day you were loosed from the hospital, more than giddy to carry all of your shit all the way to your flat. He was probably getting some sick pleasure from watching you hobble on your crutches.

“I can help you, if you lean on me,” said Hawks, giving you an easy grin, “I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you have to.”

“This is something I should do myself,” you said in what was hopefully a tough-it-out voice, “I’d like to be able to walk without depending on anyone.”

“I honestly think you ought to be in a wheelchair.” His wings bristled. “But what do I know? I could fly us to your place, if you like.”

“I don’t like. I’ve gotta concentrate on limping. Stop talking, Hawks.”

You got to your flat, and Hawks had guessed which key opened the door on the first try. Drat! He was already doing a good job of acting like he’d been here before, like he’s not surprised that the number fourteen hero lives in a pretty shitty apartment (you started living here as a student and got too damn comfortable for your own good—plus, you didn’t want your cat to endure the trauma of moving).

Hawks plopped your keys in the bowl by the door with a clatter, and he shut the front door behind you, flipping one of the locks.

He set your stuff neatly on the kitchen table—your purse, your tactical pack, your ropes—and lay your dry-cleaned hero suit over the back of a kitchen chair, and his hands were on you the next moment to guide you to your tacky, sunflower couch. Removing one crutch, he put your arm over his shoulder instead, one hand planted on your lower back above your bandages, and he eased you down onto the cushions.

Hawks then stepped over your legs to sit on your opposite side, and he brought your legs to rest in his lap, his hand gripping your non-casted leg. “Gotta keep it elevated, chickadee.”

You let yourself giggle. Time to get this shitshow started. “Thank you so much for helping me, Hawks; I know I’ve been a real hassle these past few days, and you shouldn’t have to deal with that sort of stress. You’re already under so much. I don’t understand how the commission would let you date anyone, let alone propose.”

“Oh, I know,” said Hawks, spreading himself out on the couch. He shifted himself to face you in addition to accommodate his wings—he was now positioned so that they’d drape over the arm of the couch instead of being squished against the back cushions. That bitch, he probably wasn’t used to couches that weren’t custom made to his special body requirements. Spoiled fuck.

“The commission was really pissed when they found out. Do you remember how, sweetness? Right, I’ll tell you,” said Hawks, running an ungloved hand through his hair before shaking it loose. “You remember up to the press conference with the faceplant. Short version is that you hated me for a good year before something clicked. You started acting awkward whenever I was around, avoiding me, and stuff. Sometimes getting red. I thought it was cute.”

You ducked your head. Flustered. He probably likes easily flustered women.

Wait. That’s not who you are. And he’d like you for who you are, if you’re engaged.

But at the same time, if you’re (gag) in love with him, wouldn’t you be flustered by some of the things he says?

Easy, baby. Take it as it comes. Pick your battles. Go with your gut.

And gut says make Hawks eat shit.

“You think I’m cute?”

“I know you’re cute.”

You’re going to stuff his own feathers down his throat.

“We got together at that dinner Endeavor’s agency sponsored. Do you remember that at all? That place with the purple lights. You’d gotten nervous from the crowd and had gone to take some of your anxiety meds. I caught you in the hall back from the bathroom and talked you down before going back out there.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’d like to say I’m the one who kissed you, but you took initiative before I had the guts.”

Funny. Hilarious, in fact. That was the night Hawks had solidified himself as the Biggest Dick in the World, because yeah, he’d caught you in the purple-lit hallway, but he’d caught you on the way to take your meds, not on the way back. You were talking yourself down from a panic attack and couldn’t argue him away, so he’d followed you into the bathroom, running his mouth and acting like it was an accident when the tip of his wing had knocked your two capsules down the sink.

He’d told you that if you’re a big girl, you’d be able to handle the rest of the night. Or you could leave at any time with him, and he’d make excuses that everyone would have to accept.

Honestly, you’d love to let his fake memory be true, because then, you’d be able to wear purple again without feeling queasy.

Cocking your head, you smiled. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

Hawks let out a light laugh, craning his neck to rest his head on the back of the sofa. “That’s what you said that night, too. About how it felt out of character.”

“Was I good?”

Lifting his head, he raised an eyebrow at you: probably the first genuine emotion he’s shown you the whole time he’s been here. “Hm?”

“When I kissed you. Was it good,” you asked flatly.

“Oh,” Hawks said, his wings puffing out just barely, “Oh, sweetheart, you were amazing. Groundbreaking. Show-stopping.” His tongue flicked over his lower lip, and he shifted underneath your legs, leaning slightly towards you but holding eye contact before carrying on.

You shook your head. “I don’t have the energy to give you the makeout session you deserve,” you said, envisioning drowning him in the bathtub, “I’m exhausted. Forgive me.”

“Always,” said Hawks, “Want me to keep going?”

“You can hardly eat me out when we haven’t kissed yet.”

“I meant,” said Hawks, pausing to visibly swallow (was it real?), “about our relationship, but if you wanna eat—”

“Nah, keep going. So, I started the relationship? I must be crazy. Neither of us have fucking time to sleep, let alone be in a relationship.”

Hawks never shut up about how he was taking time out of his endlessly packed days to spend time with you, how time was precious to him, and if he’s spending time with you, why, then, you’d better pay up, bitch (always accompanied with his hands on his belt, subtly pointing his thumbs towards his cock).

Hawks shrugged with his wings instead of his shoulders. Interesting. Has he ever done that before? “The commission said that, but after I insisted we’d make time, they relented. Eventually,” said Hawks, jerking his head to the side, “Our quirks don’t exactly fit well, so we haven’t worked with each other professionally too often, and, of course, we’ve had to hide our relationship so that we can’t be a public weak spot to each other. Plus, we’re more marketable as eligible, young heroes.”

“Fuck the market,” you said, slumping into the pillows.

“There’s my girl,” said Hawks, grinning with his tongue caught between his teeth, “There’s her spark. I know, baby. I feel the same way, but being made into libidinous body pillows pays the bills, y’know?”

Nodding, you brought one of the couch pillows around for you to hug, and you smushed your chin into it. “Hawks,” you said, so quietly you almost couldn’t be heard over the A/C kicking on, “How long have we been engaged?”

“Four months,” he said, his grin unconsciously fading until he was essentially baring his teeth, “Since the twentieth.”

Taking a moment, you said, “I can’t remember anything at all.”

“That’s okay. It’ll come back.”

“No, I can’t—” You slid your hands through your hair, pulling at it, and you heaved a sigh. “Goddammit, Hawks. I wish I could—fuck. I’m missing something huge. I know I am.” Make him nervous. Make him lie awake at night. “I’m sorry, Hawks. It’s probably something really important, and I—”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh, it’s all right,” said Hawks, and he stood to lean over you, his hands rising to cup your face, and holy shit, his hands cover so much of your skin; is that legal? He’s got hands. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ve had a big day. Turn your brain off. I’ll take care of you.”

Red flag! Big, red flag! Creep! He’s a creep!

Your gaze fell to his jacket pockets. Does he carry date rape drugs on his person?

“Hawks, I don’t wanna inconvenience you any more than I have.”

“I’m your fiancé,” said Hawks, actually looking you straight in the eyes and not breaking, “I want to take care of you.”

“Sure, in the way the mob takes care of people.”

Hawks’s mouth opened slightly, and his eyes narrowed.

Cover it up. “I’m not sorry. I don’t trust your cooking. You’ll poison my spaghetti!” You made a dumb gesture, pinching your fingers together. “Have you seen The Godfather? There’s actually a pretty legit spaghetti recipe in it; it’s not too bad, but it’s kind of watery—”

Hawks brought your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles and let his lips linger. “Watch it with me?”

You shook your head. “I’m too tired. I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll join you.”

“No,” you said, “My bed’s not made with your wings in mind.” Fuck off to your own little sex next, Hawks. Get out of here. “If they got hurt, it’d be my fault. Go sleep in your own bed, all right?” Go home. Get mugged on the way.

Hawks sighed, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “If you insist. But you’ve gotta reach out to me for anything you have trouble with, yeah? Memories, opening jars, orgasms, you know.”

“I’m leaving,” you said, reaching for your crutches, “Ten minutes ago.”

***

“You didn’t tell me how you proposed.”

Hawks froze mid-bite of his ramen, but after a quick beat, he slurped the rest of the noodle up. “I was hoping you’d recall that on your own, baby. Get your own feelings about it, instead of me telling you how to feel.”

If you weren’t faking amnesia, you’d fucking break his nose for that. Bastard.

“I imagine once you tell me, the feelings will rush in,” you said, clicking your chopsticks twice for emphasis, “I want to remember everything, and if I don’t, well, I want to fall in love with you again.”

Hawks’s gaze glazed over for an infinitesimal moment. Score.

“It’ll sound goofy once I describe it.” With his wings cramped against the back of the booth, Hawks scratched the back of his neck—a classic move for pretending to be embarrassed. “I’m not exactly known for being romantic.”

Yeah, he’s known for fooling around with anyone who’s glittery, like a goddamn crow. If you’re paying attention.

“Aw, but Hawks, you’ve been nothing but so effortlessly romantic to me since I’ve been convalescing,” you said, rolling up the paper wrapper of your straw and soaking it in the ring your cup left on the table.

“Right, well. I flew us out to the countryside, to this overlook halfway up a mountain. You liked going rappelling there a lot. To practise for missions.” Hawks had some of your habits down, at least. Bet he gets the location wrong, though. “We watched the sunrise. We shared a thermos of tea. I asked you once the sun had risen, but you didn’t say yes right away,” said Hawks, “You jumped off the overlook without your gear, and I caught you. You were furious about it—you didn’t want me to see you overwhelmed. But you said yes.”

Ugh. That sounded about right. That sounded pretty realistic. Hawks was a fucking stalker.

“Fuck,” you said, burying your face in your hands, “That’s cute.” You stretched the skin of your cheeks before releasing, and you returned to your ramen. “Question: did we put the ring into storage, or something? I don’t have the little indent on my ring finger from wearing a ring too long, and I haven’t found anything at home.” Make him sweat. Make him stumble. Where’s the ring, Hawks?

With a flash of his eyebrows, Hawks maneuvered his straw to his mouth using only his lips, looking quite stupid, in your opinion. “Figured you’d ask that at some point. I’m so overjoyed to see you every time that I forget to bring it up. The ring’s been sent off to a high-level, government-backed, support company. I’ve pulled in a favour from the higher-ups. I wanted to turn your ring into something a little more personal and incorporate one of my feathers into it,” said Hawks, taking a moment to slurp his drink noisily, “Depending on how well it goes, I’d be able to help you if we’re separated and know where you are. At the very least—” Hawks ducked his head to give the illusion of staring up at you with wide eyes, his blond eyelashes light against his skin. “—I’d be able to feel your heartbeat. It would bring me great comfort.”

Great, so he’d have a GPS on you at all times, knowing whether or not you went somewhere he didn’t want you to. He’d be able to tell if you went somewhere your non-amnesia self would know about. Great. Phenomenal.

“Hawks, that’s very sweet,” you said, fiddling with the remnants of your straw wrapper, now fizzled out of its snake shape, “Wouldn’t the process hurt you, though? Since you can feel it.”

“Nothing more than a twinge, sweetheart,” said Hawks, holding up his hands, “And I’d bear any amount of pain for your sake.”

You fantasised about beating his head in with the back end of a rifle.

***

When you were told Hawks was waiting for you outside of the recording booth, you told the messenger that Hawks could wait until you were finished with five more takes. You could picture Hawks’s little pout at the news, his feathers bristling despite the closed space, and resigning himself to sit in one of those clangy, metal chairs out front, having to hunch forward so that he didn’t crush his wings.

The idol group adored the ingenuity of bone-crunching as percussion in a song, and along with that and some other combat foley, you were singing the bridge with the rapper of the group (the dance captain would sing your part for live shows). It’d be a good promo for the girl group and for you, and the song, “Spine,” was going to be released as a single as soon as it was polished.

Hawks perked up the moment you stepped through the secondary door to the booth, his eyes brightening and wings spreading to take up more space. “I didn’t think I’d catch you,” said Hawks, standing to take your hands (the cold leather gloves sucked the heat out of your hands), “I’ve got to fly, soon, but I wanted to tell you personally.”

“You’re not pregnant,” you said, fighting the urge to break his goggles/visor/hat thing.

His lopsided grin widened. “Not yet, baby. There’s gonna be a heroes’ gala held at the end of the month, and I wanted to let you know that I’m doing everything in my power to make it a positive experience for you. Here, I’ve got this woman’s phone number,” he said, fishing a slip of paper out of his jacket, “She’ll help accommodate the venue for your leg.”

Stupid fucking bastard man. He probably wanted to pick out your clothes himself, infantilise you and dress you up like a goddamn doll. Deny you your personhood. “I’ll be out of the cast by then.” You slid the paper into your back pocket.

“I know,” Hawks said in a way that was a fucking lie, “I just don’t want there to be any accidents. I can’t have my babygirl any more hurt than she is.” Hawks placed his cold, gloved hand against your cheek, and you, shutting your eyes, made yourself lean into it. “But contact her. She’ll make it the safest place it can be for you, even when I have to leave your side.”

God, galas were great. Big events for villains to ruin. You licked your lips thinking about using a new move you’ve learnt to take a villain down (involving clamping your legs around the villain’s neck to choke him as he crumpled to the floor—your combat coach had banned you from the move after you made her pass out). “Are we announcing our engagement, then? If we’re going together?”

“I’d love to,” said Hawks, “but only if you want to. The ring could be ready by then, if I ask them to rush it—”

“Let’s do it.” If you plunged the ring into icy water, would he start to shiver? Ooh, your ring’s going to act as a fucking bay leaf in your soups for a while.

“Oh,” said Hawks, sighing lightly with his eyes fluttering shut. He pressed his forehead to yours and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. “You have no idea how much that means to me, sweetheart. You are so dear to me, and I want everyone to know it. The best damn thing in my life. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, placing your hand on his face to push him away, “Don’t you have work to do, screw boy?”

***

“Did we have a date?” you asked from the edge of the bathtub.

Hawks dipped the razor in the water, washing off the hair and shaving cream. “We’ve gone on so many, darling; you’ll have to specify.”

“No, I meant for the wedding.” Let’s once again play: Can Hawks Cover His Own Ass?

Hawks dragged the razor down your freshly exfoliated, freshly-un-casted, freshly not-broken leg, starting at your knee. “Nope!”

“No explanation?”

“You wanna get married tomorrow? A six-month engagement is rather short, don’t you think?” His nose twitched. He’d said the scent of your shaving cream irritated his nose. Good.

“I don’t. Why didn’t we have a date for the wedding?” You eyed the actual and literal pile of your dead skin on the towel. Maybe you should make Hawks snort it.

“We were too busy working; you’d said you didn’t mind having a long engagement, so long as I was yours. Then, uh, you know. The accident,” Hawks said with a shrug—with his shoulders this time, because if he moved his wings while he was crouched in your bathtub, he’d soak them, and they were a bitch to dry, apparently. Suffer, you rat bastard.

“The commission isn’t involved in that decision?”

“I thought that was implied,” said Hawks, gripping your ankle to turn your calf to the side, “They don’t want it to be a huge spectacle, so even I don’t know how much of a wedding wedding they’d let us have.”

He’s too damn good at this. If he weren’t a pro-hero, he’d fit right along in a theatre troupe.

You’re going to wring his neck.

You caught him staring at the crotch of your underwear (bone-dry, you might add) while he shaved your thighs, and he spent more time rubbing lotion into your inner thighs than anywhere else. He tossed your dead skin before you could make him eat it, and he scooped you up against your protestations about your weight and capability, humming while he carried you to your bed.

The fucker tucked you in and rounded up your cat to place in your arms (your cat disagreed with him and promptly leapt off the bed).

“Let me stay with you,” said Hawks, kissing each of your fingertips. It’s an order.

Yet you shook your head.

***

“The doctors said you shouldn’t drink,” Hawks said under his breath, taking the champagne flute gently from your grasp.

“But I want to,” you said, sticking out your lower lip, “I’m wearing goddamn heels and a fucking dress. I’ve got on makeup, for Christ’s sake. I’ve done my time; let me drink.”

“Baby, you’ve got to stay safe,” he said, and he set the glass next to some 40s-level hero’s place at the long, white tablecloth. “There’s already press paying more attention to us than usual. You wanna make a fool of yourself?”

“Yes,” you said, lifting another champagne flute from a passing gala waiter, “Who gives a shit about the press.”

Hawks laughed too loudly to be natural before lowering his voice. “Baby, you are gonna be the death of me.”

“Promise?”

***

When “Spine” was released on a cool, spring morning to an excitable audience, you were lurking in alleyways by the docks, searching for a fight. When the music video dropped, you were smashing some guy’s face into a concrete wall. While more and more citizens recognised you and your talent, your work for the community, your connections, your popularity—with your rank steadily rising—you were rappelling down a port sewer to pummel a slime villain into dust.

You wiped his blood off on your pants, hands devoid of anything that could taint. You’d left the ring at home.

***

“You tricked me,” you said, scowling as Hawks pushed you forward, “This isn’t the rock climbing park.”

Once you deliberately smashed your face into the glass door and crossed your arms, Hawks held the door open for you. “Would you have dressed up so nicely for rock climbing?”

“A meta-game challenge,” you said, “to rock-climb in a long skirt.”

You glowered about the restaurant while you and Hawks stood in the lobby, his hand low on your back, suspiciously respectfully. You made no effort to hide your distaste: it was the place with the purple lights.

Over there at the absurdly long bar, Endeavor had drunk flat whisky without so much of a growl at anyone, despite it being his event. Hexagonal tables with lilac tablecloths dotted the floor—you’d hidden in one of the few booths, up against the exposed brick wall—but your hiding place had been ruined once a violet disco ball had emerged from the ceiling. Shiny, wooden floor that had reflected your post-panic attack face right back at you and let every shoe strike it with a clatter. No silence allowed.

The whole restaurant had lavender LED lights running around the walls, swathing the place in a distorted sort of purple haze, and any candles lit on the centre tables had indigo flames—you’d focused on how those might have been made in the process of coming down from your panic attack.

God. You’re going to throw up.

The hostess escorted you and Hawks to a farther back room, this one with booths separated by small, brick walls that didn’t reach the ceiling yet concealed the booths’ occupants from each other—unless you were passing directly in front of one.

Hawks made you sit in the booth first, trapping you in as he settled. He had to be on the edge, anyway, he told you, because of his wings. You’re going to rip them off and boil them in the soup.

The two of you ordered. You don’t remember what. You can only channel so much of your nerves into jostling your leg. This is not cool. This place is not cool. You need to get out.

“Hey, let me through,” you said, nudging Hawks, “Bathroom.”

Once there, you lightly slapped your cheeks a couple of times, trying to ground yourself through physical sensation. No use. Can’t they fucking use normal lights in this place?

You didn’t have your panic meds, because you’ve never needed them rock climbing. You can do it. You’re fine. You’re fine. Your tongue is too big for your mouth.

You took your time meandering back to the booth, coming to a halt at the end of the narrow hallway and ducking behind the corner.

Endeavor stood by your booth, his arms crossed over a flaming chest. You caught your breath at the sight of his orange fire, a comforting contrast to all the damn purple, but still—Endeavor. Talking to your (gag) fiancé.

Without the courage to interact with Endeavor, you listened at the corner for his departure.

“Nah, she can handle her bladder just fine. It’s her nerves,” Hawks was saying, hidden by the bricks, “She likes hiding. She doesn’t necessarily like being in the spotlight.”

“Yet she hasn’t completely withdrawn as Eraserhead has. You’ve picked a strange one to marry.”

From the angle Endeavor glared at him, Hawks must be slumping in his seat. “But that’s what so great about her. And it’s hard to process, y’know, like, she’s finally mine. You follow?”

“Regrettably,” said Endeavor, “Regardless, I offer my congratulations that your courtship finally worked out in your favour. You should have told me sooner.”

Courtship. That’s a funny way to pronounce bullying.

“Eh, I’ve gotta have some secrets, don’t I? Can’t betray my otherwise cool exterior.” Hawks laughed. “I can’t believe I’ve been allowed such happiness. The woman I’ve loved for years is gonna be waking up to me every day soon, y’know?”

Hawks has got to know you can hear him, otherwise he wouldn’t be saying those things. Endeavor must be in on Hawks’s ruse, since Endeavor is Hawks’s closest—actually, Endeavor isn’t the type to revel in romantic shit. Endeavor straight-up isn’t the type to revel. To the best of your knowledge, Endeavor doesn’t genuinely like Hawks as so much as tolerates him; when did they get so close? It must have taken a long time—

Time.

You could feel your IQ dropping as you actually considered: had you been in a legitimate coma? Had you (fuck) genuinely had amnesia?

No, no. You don’t live in Crazytown. Your eyebrows hadn’t been overgrown when you’d woken up in the hospital. You’d only been there a day.

Of course, Hawks is a vain piece of shit and does his own eyebrows, so he might have considered that yours were a piece of pride/insecurity for you and may have done them while you were—did Hawks do his own eyebrows? That spoiled fuck probably had someone else to do them for him. If they were naturally like that, you were going to throttle his ass.

You didn’t fucking have amnesia. Hawks is and always has been a stupid, clammy birdbrain. He’s always been cruel to you. He didn’t fucking like you.

He sure as hell wasn’t in fucking love with you.

Oh, my fuck, what if your memories of Hawks have been fabricated by a coma-addled mind and that—

“Hey, there,” said—said someone, some pale-ass, sleep-deprived freak who startled you out of your head, “Are you all right? You look—I mean, do you need some water? A chair?”

You blinked, yet he wouldn’t come into focus—you were taking in details about him, ones that didn’t fucking matter (chain on his wallet, three rings all on the left hand, a button-down missing the last button, a cloud of axe body spray), but he didn’t register as a human person. He couldn’t; you hadn’t grounded yourself yet. You yourself still had a frazzled, cartoon scribble buzzing inside of your chest, and until you vomited it up, a panic attack may yet still happen.

You can’t deal with anyone new right now.

A spark of recognition crossed the new guy’s face, and he, through a smirk, asked if you were your hero name.

Oh god oh fuck not now

“Sweetheart,” came Hawks’s melodious drawl (registering first his voice, then bodily warmth, then the wingtip covering your ass), “You were taking so long that I came to check on you.” He pulled you by the waist towards him, blocking the guy from seeing your face by pressing it into his chest. “Who’s this?”

Who cares. All you could focus on (sharp and overwhelming, nothing else but) was how fucking incredible Hawks smelled, and at this point, you’d use anything to bring yourself back down to earth. A small voice in the back of your head told you that freaking out to this degree in this particular situation was leaning towards pathetic, since basically nothing happened, besides being in an uncomfortable environment and being accosted by a fan at the wrong time, but you? You did not control the rate at which your brain panicked.

And really, no rhyme or reason played into why your grabby little hands itched for human contact once safe in the booth again, why Hawks’s scent lay on your tongue more heavily than your soup, why the overwhelming sensation of being so fucking spaced out of it threw its entire weight upon your shoulders—you couldn’t find yourself. You were lost.

And in this horrible, purple place, the only thing that’s familiar was Hawks.

When you scooted as closely as you could to him in the booth, keeping your glare towards your lap while you looped your arm under his to snuggle into it, Hawks cleared his throat to say, “What’s this?”

You scowled into his jacket, both hands gripping his forearm.

He set his chopsticks down. “How can I help, darling?”

Growling, you bonked your forehead against his shoulder, dragging your hands down to his.

“Hey,” said Hawks, and he guided your face towards his and stroked your cheek with his thumb, “Did that guy bother you too much before I got there?”

Turning your mouth towards the hand cupping your cheek, you kissed his palm, bit the leather, and kissed it again before burying yourself in his shoulder again.

He rested his hand on the crown of your head. “What’s the matter? Can you tell me?”

“Not sure I can put it into words,” you said, “I think I wanna go home.” You bit the fabric of his jacket and gnashed it between your teeth.

“I can handle that,” said Hawks, “Gimme a moment to get takeaway boxes, yeah? Then we’ll leave, and you’ll be safe. Don’t worry.”

Unfortunately, you were still clutching onto his arm by the time he unlocked his darkened penthouse (because you’re not gonna hold his hand. God), but you slapped his hand away from the light switches.

“Turning them on would be too much stimulation,” you said, “Please don’t.”

Hawks hummed against the top of your head, placing keys and both of your phones on the kitchen counter. “Bed or couch?”

“Window,” you said.

“Window?”

“I’m assuming you’ve got one.”

“I do,” said Hawks, guiding you through his dark apartment, probably past scarily expensive, posh shit. He led you to what was most likely his living room, with the cool, dim light of the night sky through a vast, single-frame, wall-to-floor window illuminating furniture custom built for his wings, but he eased you down onto the carpet, tugging your shirt upwards so that the window would be touching your bare skin on the small of your back.

Hawks yanked his boots off, late, instead of at the door, and he tossed them over his shoulder. He took yours off, too, and once he’d set them aside, he sat next to you against the window, a hand on your thigh.

“Better?”

“Probably,” you said, staring at the triangle of light beige carpet between your crossed legs.

“Need me to talk? You need to talk?”

“Not right now.”

Hawks was a dumbass. He’s such a fucking dumbass. But he’s a dumbass who’s here right now, and he’s interested (?) in you, interested in helping you. And good golly, you have to be touched. Hawks’s offering warmth, freely, potentially lovingly, and all you had to do was reach out to take it, even if you didn’t reciprocate whatever sentiment was motivating him yourself.

Do you really want to take what you have no feelings for?

Hawks lies a lot to Endeavor. To everyone. He might not have been lying earlier. What reason had he to lie?

Guess it didn’t matter, because you were lying.

But good God, you haven’t been kissed in a long time. Haven’t felt safe or loved. You could…you could indulge for a few hours in order to calm down. You could pretend.

The last ten months had proved that.

“Hey,” you said idly, reaching out to grab the inner fleece lining of his jacket to rub it between your fingers, “Hawks, I’m gonna—I’m gonna put my mouth on your mouth. Okay?”

Hawks’s wings ruffled and constricted themselves so that he could move closer to you, and his hand has migrated from your thigh to grip your hip—how could anyone’s hands encompass that much of you? Your fucking hands couldn’t, not in the way his does.

(Bird man big and safe.)

([No, fuck you, don’t think that.])

(BIRD MAN SAFE—)

Shoved is how you’d describe the first few seconds of the kiss, followed closely by wet and you’d think his teeth would be sharper. Your lips didn’t line up with his completely until he adjusted your chin with two of his fingers, guiding it open just barely, as well, so that his tongue could graze your teeth—it took you a moment of processing before parting them, with a final don’t think! shouted to your neocortex.

Birds have a higher body temperature than other animals, on average having a body temperature of 105 degrees Fahrenheit (40 degrees Celsius). The colour of their feathers, of course, affects how much light and heat they absorb, with the lighter coloured feathers—say, red—reflecting more, rejecting outside heat sources.

Yet Hawks gripped you like he’d fucking freeze if he weren’t clutching you, if he weren’t straddling your legs, one palm flat against the cool of the window by your head. The other snaked around you, his forearm lying almost vertically up your back to press down between your shoulder blades, keeping you as near to his chest (he probably didn’t realise it, but his fingers ran across the curve of your shoulder blades where his wings were on his own body.

For some reason, the thought crossed your mind that you weren’t enough for him, because you were too dissimilar.)

Don’t think!

When he massaged your tongue with his, applying pressure sporadically, you returned the action—have you ever seen a bird tongue up close? They’re fucking nasty little things, looking more like a grub than anything else. Thank God Hawks had a normal, human tongue that performed particularly delightful, normal things, like drag across the roof of your mouth and aid in sucking phenomenal hickeys onto your jawline, licking over where he’s bitten and kissed.

Stop thinking about bird anatomy. Hawks has no discernible bird traits except for his fucking wings. He’s not a fucking bird man. He’s just some dude with wings. And not all birds have functional wings; for example, the ostrich and the penguin do not have wings to be used in flight—

Oh, my fuck. Turn your brain off.

Your stomach lurched. That had been something Hawks had told you too often, back before your accident.

It’s what he wants.

Hawks fucking whimpered when you pulled the shorter hairs at the back of his neck, prying him away from your skin with great difficulty—he kept trying to touch you with his mouth and tongue in the process.

“Let me have more,” he said, panting, his breath heavy and just below your ear, “Please.” He pressed his lips to the spot in front of your ear in a weak kiss, having spent himself for the most part. “I’ve missed you so much, baby. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me for so long.”

“I don’t—” You fake-stuttered, but it turned out you needed the time to put your thoughts into words. “I don’t think I’m back yet. I’m,” you said, taking as deep a breath as you could with Hawks smushed against your chest, “Something’s missing. Something big.” That’s right. Steer it back in his direction. Make the bird man sweat. “I don’t—something doesn’t feel right.”

It took a moment, but Hawks nodded fervently, shutting his eyes. “Of course. Yeah. Yeah, I get it, sweetheart. Can’t do anything when your heart’s not in it.”

Your heart’s not the problem. “Thank you for being so understanding, Hawks,” you said, untangling yourself from underneath him, “Would you just, uh, hold me for a while?”

His wings wrapped around the both of you on his enormous bed, still fluttering with each slow breath he took. Hawks almost looked genuine while he slept, and probably for the best—at least he was getting rest; at least his guard might be down.

You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing.

***

“Rank speculation is out,” you said, scrubbing the pumice stone over a patch of dry skin on Hawks’s back and scrolling through the twitter with your other hand, “Take a look.”

He opened the link you sent once he’d safely removed a dead feather that had been lodged in an odd spot in a wing. “Huh. Think I could truly take on Endeavor?”

“Well, he’s got that abusive-to-his-family thing, while you’re rocking the preparing-for-my-wedding look, and he can’t network non-aggressively to save his life.”

“Nor can you.” Hawks shot you a smirk over his shoulder.

“Zoom in on my speculated nine, baby,” you said, flicking away some dead skin with a satisfied/disgusted sneer, “And I didn’t have to sleep my way there.”

“Ah, ha, ha,” said Hawks, “Knew you could do it. Whoever’s told you that is gonna have to deal with my foot up their ass. You’re more than capable of getting there on your own.”

“Which I did. I have.” Wait. Hawks told you that. No, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s a commonly said, misogynistic comment towards women heroes. Hawks isn’t special. “But having your foot up someone’s ass wouldn’t be good for PR, unless you wanted to advertise that you’re a kinky son of a bitch who’s cheating on his fiancée.”

“I would never,” said Hawks, and, contorting his arm, he grabbed your hand with the pumice stone to kiss the back of it, “But my PR is solid, regardless.”

“If the public knew how much time you had to spend preening these fucking wings, they’d probably appreciate you more. Or call you conceited.”

Hawks hummed. “It’s a necessary evil,” he said, returning to his wingtip to search for dead feathers. “Thank you for helping.”

“No problem. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t get to see how—Hawks, holy fuck. Do you feel that?” You ran a finger near the base of a wing.

“It’s your finger?”

“No, this,” you said, tapping the spot.

“No?”

“My God. It’s a dilated pore of a winer,” you said, already reaching for the tweezers, “Right at the base of your wing. It’s basically an enormous fucking blackhead. I’m popping it. Oh, my God. I’ve never seen one in real life.”

“You’re popping it?”

“You didn’t have a problem with my getting the ones where your costume sits.”

“No,” said Hawks, rolling back his shoulders, his wings spreading with them, “Gotcha. Get on with it.”

“Can I film it?”

“What? No,” said Hawks, “No one can see me preening, let alone dealing with acne.”

“There’s sure to be another hero out there with a wing quirk, right? I don’t know how you can’t feel it.”

“Yeah,” Hawks said slowly, “Since my feathers can feel—I suppose where the wings merge with my skin is pretty numb. I haven’t ever had to think about it.” He licked his lips. “Funny.”

He continued to scroll through his feed and tend to his feathers while you worked at his back. “Bad news: the tabloids got a hold of our grocery list from the last time we went to the shops. I must have dropped it at some point in the store.”

“Oh, so do they know what kind of ice cream we prefer? The horror.”

“No, but they’ve brought in some hack handwriting analyst. Talking about our annotations for each other on the list. Something about how you’re logical and I’m a romantic. The writer of the article is practically swooning.” Hawks pulled out a clot of feathers with his teeth and spat them aside. “With good reason, though. The trashy pictures they snapped of us are hot.”

“Describe them to me.”

“I can show you—”

“No,” you said, concentrating on your work, “I don’t want the image imprinted on my brain. Describe them in your own words.”

“All right,” said Hawks, crossing his legs and placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him, “To start, the flash is on.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. We’ve got that distantly surprised look going on. It looks like we’re near the eggs and cheese. You’re not looking at the camera, but I believe it’s in the moment I caught it.” Hawks flicked away a feather and let it fall to the carpet. “My hand’s on your waist. The other’s on the cart. You’ve scrunched your face up in concentration; it’s really cute.”

“Aw, we should get it framed,” you said, wiping away the gunk with a tissue and wadding it up so that no one will ever have to see or touch it ever again.

“Never,” said Hawks, “The first picture of us I wanna get framed should be on our wedding day.”

“It’s coming along quickly,” you said, setting aside the tweezers, “Bit more quickly than I’d thought it would.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait,” said Hawks with a light laugh, and you ducked to rest your head against his shoulder, straining your neck to reach him over his wing.

Hawks clicked his non-nasty, non-bird tongue. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Sighing, you said, “Turn your head this way.”

He did you one better, since he anticipated your plan. He twisted around, keeping his legs crossed as he pulled you into his lap. His wings initially bristled but wrapped around you when his arms did, and Hawks kissed your cheek, once, twice, until he arrived at your mouth, where he barely grazed your lips, rather letting his hot breath spread over your face—and he grinned up at you with half-lidded eyes (he’d left off his eyeliner today, but the natural marks below his waterline kept his eyes sharp, anyway).

“Kiss me, you fucking idiot,” you said, overriding whatever he was about to do by kissing him yourself, hard and open-mouthed, almost violent in its fervent. Yet Hawks held you lightly, delicately, but still close enough to freeze.

You ran your cold, cold hands over his bare abdomen, pressing your thumb down with considerable force to trace his muscles (he grunted at that, and that’s it; that’s right—make him squirm; make him sweat; make him yours). His finger only toyed with the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, as if waiting for you, which didn’t line up with what you had garnered about Hawks at all, but c’mon, man, come on; didn’t you want this all those months ago? Almost a year, now? Years, if what he said to Endeavor is true? But when he flinched away with a shaky breath once your cold fingers circled his nipple, you knew this was where you were supposed to be: right here, in Hawks’s lap, completely destroying him with hardly anything at all. Nothing but light touches and a strategic flick of your tongue. Idiot man. He must really like you if this is doing it for him.

You slowed and opened your eyes at that thought, frowning, and you pulled away. With the back of his hand, Hawks wiped saliva off of both of your mouths, yours first.

He waited for you.

“If you can’t take all of me, then what’s the point?”

He tilted his head. “I’ll take whatever part of you you’re willing to share.”

“I’m missing something.”

“I know.”

“I want to find it before we get married.” You laid your palm flat on his chest, and he grinned at the cold.

“You can find it,” he said, “I know you can.”

“I don’t know what I’m blocking out,” you said, lying—or maybe you weren’t? Fuck it. “Whatever I’m repressing is really fucking with me.”

“Take your time,” said Hawks, running his tongue over his lower lip. “I’m here for—”

“Hawks,” you said, faking the light of realisation in your eyes, accompanied with a sharp inhale, “I can’t remember your name.”

Hawks’s mouth snapped shut.

“You told me once. I know you did,” you said, moving to cup his cheek after tapping the mark underneath his eye, “but the memory—there’s a blur where you spoke. I—” You cut yourself off, biting your lip. “That, that might be it. I don’t know. Everything else about the scene is in perfect detail. I remember what fucking socks I was wearing, for Christ’s sake. But you. What you said. Maybe it’s something so personal, so intimate, that I’ve repressed it. Maybe it was too much for me to handle.” You cupped his face with both hands now, forcing him to look at you. If you hadn’t been scrutinising him for some evidence of breaking character, you wouldn’t’ve seen the minute quivering of his upper lip. Hardly there, but it was there. “It’s a part of you that I want. Even if I couldn’t handle it before, I want to try now.”

Hawks averted his gaze, even though he couldn’t move his head. And bang, you’ve got him. Hawks’s name was still strictly secret, hidden by the commission, but if he’s genuinely in this dumbass situation for the long haul, if he’s truly in it for you, then he would have told you. Even if he wanted you to continue to call him Hawks, your own fiancé would have told you his damn name.

So, this is it. The way out.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out you’ve been faking all this time. Good. Let each feather burn.

“Keigo,” he said, staring into your eyes with a newfound determination, “My name is Takami Keigo.”

Oh, shit—you clapped a hand over your heart, your eyes widening. Maybe you could play this off as memory recovery instead of absolute shock? But you hadn’t any memories to recover, probably. Holy fuck.

Where do you go from here?

You tried to say his name but ended up simply mouthing it, and after clearing your throat and coughing a bit, you managed to say it aloud. “Keigo,” you said softly, reaching for his hand, “Keigo, I fucking love you.”

You’d only been kissing him for a few moments before his wings shuddered in a muscle spasm and flung you off to the side.

***

Only a commission higher-up witnessed your wedding. She stood silently to the side the entire ceremony in the courthouse and only shook Hawks’s hand afterwards.

You and your cat essentially moved into his penthouse and adjusted. Your mostly empty apartment stayed leased under your name.

Sometimes, you’d note that you turned your brain off and instantly be hit with a lightning strike of self-loathing—but you didn’t have to consciously decide to be affectionate with Hawks. Being with him came naturally and easily. Probably for the best, since if you had to think about it, you’d screw it up.

You stayed together. Supported each other. Sneaked out to see the other on patrol. Took care, listened to each other. Defended each other. Worked it out.

And now, you stared up at the ceiling fan whirling in your darkened bedroom, Keigo lying on his stomach next to you in the bed as he slept. Your cat catloafed between his wings and nestled into them, rising and falling with each breath he took. Hawks was perfect, always saving the day, working up a routine to mesh with your fighting style and quirk, always charming and easygoing with the people he rescued, indulging you in your ferocity, and Keigo, Keigo whispered sweet and dirty things into your ear when he spotted you in public, made you laugh, worked wonders with his cock, helped you clean up before he even thought of preening himself, held you, and made you feel held. He’s got it bad.

And maybe you do, too.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out.

#bnha #mha #hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo #hawks x reader #hawks/reader #hawks imagine #hawks fic #hawks headcanons #hawks fanfic #hawks fanfiction #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo/reader #takami keigo imagine #takami keigo fic #takami keigo headcanons #takami keigo fanfiction #takami keigo fanfic

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bangtangalicious · 4 years ago

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the glow up (5) | pjm, jjk

pairing: jimin x reader x jungkook

summary: after going off to college, you & your best friend committed to working out. a year later, the results show, and you cant wait for your hot hometown friends to see you. now all you wanna do is wild out and have lots of sex, and enjoy it without feeling insecure

genre: angst, smut, childhoodfriends!au weightloss!au (is that a thing) friends-to-lovers!au

word count: 3k

warnings: college boys fighting, jimin’s abs, everyone’s abs, misogyny, mentions of sexual harassment, light smut: threesome (mxmxf), tittie fuck, cock warming, a single spank, gaslighting, toxic behavior, slut shaming

part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 masterlist

It was another scorching day. Your stomach turned at the prospect of the day ahead of you. Today was Hobi’s annual summer party. Every summer he would have a big party with literally everyone from your old high school.

Hobi’s party had a notorious reputation of being the scene where all the summer flings were established. You and Jimin would always go together and leave together, never getting too involved. It was boys like Taehyung and Jungkook who really got wild at this.

You hadn’t even thought about how different this party would be for you now, especially after Jimin’s. Normally you and him would catch up with old friends, drink a little bit, but mostly just enjoy the music and have fun together.

Not only would you not be able to hang out with Jimin, but you also would not be able to avoid the heart of party. Hook-up central. The pool.

You shuddered thinking about the last time you were in a pool, where Jungkook had just groped you so openly and you just let him. You liked it.

You tried to convince yourself that Jungkook’s actions lately didn’t effect you, but for some reason the thought would leave you with a sour taste in your mouth. You and Jungkook had always been cordial, he was part of your friend group, but you two were never specifically that close. You were comfortable with him, but Taehyung was definitely more approachable even back then.

You had texted Taehyung about going to the party together, but he had already made plans to go with Jungkook, and that was the last person you wanted to see.

You really only had one option left.

Next thing you know, you’re back at Jimin’s doorstep, remembering with a wave of guilt how you left him to go fool around with Taehyung just around a week ago. You rang the doorbell.

“Who is it?” You heard from inside.

“It’s me”

Nothing.

“Jimin?”

The door cracked open slightly. Jimin was shirtless, his skin now significantly tanned from when you last saw him, and also his muscles surprisingly more defined. He had clearly been working out a lot since you last saw him.

“Oh hey” His eyes softened when the met yours but you could see the sadness in them. Your heart clenched. You pushed past the door and threw yourself into his arms, giving him the tightest hug you could conjure. “Are you okay?” His familiar scent overwhelmed you, and you wanted to just melt into him.

You nodded, cheek pressed against his shoulder, “God I missed you so much. Jimin stroked your back affectionately before pressing his lips to the top of your head. You looked up at him. “I am so sorry Jimin”

Jimin forced a slight smile, “It’s…fine. What’s going on, is everything okay?”

Not leaving his arms for a second you spilled. You told him everything that transpired. Every thought you had, Every regret. You told him about what really happened at his party, what happened after. You told him about jungkook, taehyung, everything. You could no longer bare to keep anything from your best friend.

You hadn’t noticed, but Jimin was now clenching your waist tightly, his eyes raging.

“Jungkook did what” After a few moments of silence to take in everything you said, Jimin was furious.

You took his hands into yours and sat him down on his bed. “Look it doesn’t matter.” Lies. “I just, I’m so sorry about all of this. I’m such an idiot—“

Jimin pulled away from you, shaking his head. “No way. You have no reason to be sorry. This is NOT your fault. I’m going to fucking kill Jungkook” He tilted his head in anger.

“Jimin, it’s okay just—“

“It’s OKAY?” Jimin yelled, “You’re OKAY with the fact that Jungkook just fucking stuck his fingers in you? And…that fucking Taehyung too…he didn’t do anything to stop him? What the fuck?”

“It’s really not like that Jimin” Jimin ignored you and cracked his knuckles.

“I didn’t” Your voice went small, “I didn’t try and stop him. It’s my fault” Jimin stared at you.

“You know, you could be a lot of things, but I would have never thought you were stupid.” He inhaled sharply before easing his voice back to an appropriate volume, “Are you okay? Like seriously.”

“I think so.”

“Shit y/n. SHIT” Jimin tossed a pillow across the room in frustration before buying his head in his lap.

“Jimin…” You ran your hand through his hair as he tried to calm down.

“I’m the one that should be sorry. God I was such as ass to you. After we had sex too, ugh I regret it so much. The things I said I mean…not the sex. You’re my best friend, it’s my job to protect you and be there for you, and make sure you don’t get hurt. I made our relationship complicated and I’m sorry.” Jim-in raised his face, giving up an intense look, “But so help me y/n, if Jeon Jungkook or Kim Taehyung have the audacity to show their face to me tonight, I will FUCKING end them”

Jimin decided it was best for you two to stick together like usual during the party. You decided to forgo the swimwear completely for the evening, opting instead for a a pair of denim shorts and a tube top. Jimin would have preferred you cover up more, but he didn’t say anything. You put a glittery body spray that added a nice shimmer to your skin in the sunlight.

Hobi’s house was gigantic. Even after all these years, it always excited you to come see all the new things they may have added. Flat screen TVs in the kitchen, a glow in the dark pool table, a whole dance floor, each year brough surprises. Hobi’s pool was on the roof of the house, infinity style. You could already hear the music blasting. It was comforting that there were already a lot of people there, so your entrance could go unnoticed. You saw Taehyung’s white convertible parked from the corner of your eye, letting you know he was already there. Jimin parked the car. You both sat for a while, simply listening the loud bass vibrate your surroundings. The music gave you a sense of confidence. You reached for Jimin’s hand but he pulled it away.

“Let’s just be normal tonight” He tried to smile. You wanted to roll your eyes. He was so hot and cold. You got out of the car. You could see people standing around smoking, old friends hugging and taking selfies. Red plastic cups everywhere. Shirtless guys, bikini-clad girls, familiar faces. It felt like an out of body experience. You followed Jimin, who chose to wear a loose white muscle tee that showed off his toned arms.

“Oh my GOD! Y/n!” You heard some familiar voices of girls from your high school. You smiled and waved, “GIRL YOU LOOK SO GOOD YESSS” You giggled. More girls crowded you, fawning you with compliments, but the attention was short living, as soon they noticed Jimin who was by your side.

Now this glow up made them drool.

“Park Jimin!” “Have you been working out?” “Holy shit, wanna come over later?” “Jiminieeee I missed you oh my gosh”

Good. Take him away sea of ladies. You thought to yourself. Jimin turned to look back at you in worry as he got dragged away. You winked and gave him a supportive thumbs up. Once Jimin was out of sight, you decided to look for Taehyung.

Where to look first? The pool. You climbed the stairs until you finally got to Hobi’s rooftop, walking out into the intense sun. The pool was packed, music louder here than before. People seemed to be having a great time. There was volleyball, chicken, all sorts of games happening. People were jumping, splashing, it was truly a sight to behold. You saw Junkook right away, with a girl on his shoulders wrestling playfully with Hobi in the water. You stared at him, jaw clenching at how carefree he looked.

“Princess” You turned to see Taehyung, dressed still in partially unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. In his hand was a cup of what you assumed was beer. “Good to see you” He places a firm kiss onto your lips, lingering a bit. You flinched at the sudden action.

“Taehyung what the fuck” You whispered, looking around to make sure no one had seen you. Taehyung chuckled, wrapping his hand around your waist. His eyes followed where you had been looking earlier.

“Wanna dance with me?” You had no response. Especially because while the two of you were strictly hooking up, Taehyung did seem to really like you, but you suddenly felt overwhelmed. So many people would see you two together. Someone would tell Jimin. And then Jimin would start a fight. Taehyung noticed your hesitation.

“I…I’ll be right back” You wiggled out of Taehyungs grasp and rapidly made your way through the crowd before he could stop you. You barely glanced back long enough to see a confused and slightly hurt look on Taehyung’s face.

It wasn’t long before you heard a whistle.

“Y/n! Babe! Get that sexy ass in the pool” Jungkook cat called. Hobi playfully splashed him, rolling his eyes. The girl on his shoulders just giggled. “Bet I could take you both, if you know what I mean” He winked. You glared at him.

“Excuse me” You felt yourself getting dizzy as Jimin’s voice came booming across the pool. You had no idea when he got up here. He had a few girls surrounding him, but his eyes were glued onto you and Jungkook, who was still in the pool a few feet away from you. He made his way over to you, pulling you back behind him, gritting his teeth. “Get out of the pool Jeon” He spat.

“Nah I’m good Jimin. But hey, I’d be down to share. You me and y/n. Sounds fun” You could hear Hobi mention to the girl that she should probably leave.

“I can’t believe I’ve let you live this long after what you did” Jimin growled, curling his hands into a fist.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair and smirked, “The fuck did I do? She’s the one screwing Taehyung left right and center. Get mad at her. Bros before Hoes” You placed your hands on Jimin’s arm to keep him from jumping into the pool and pounding Jungkook’s face.

“Jungkook, that’s enough” Hobi said, trying to keep a playful demeanor, “Come on guys, let’s not kill the vibe. Take it inside”

“Any guy here could make a move on her and she’d sleep with them. Because she can. She’s a slut now.” Jungkook raised himself out of the pool, the water dripping down his intense muscles. His tattoos gleamed in the sunlight.

“Inside. Now.” Hobi’s voice became more stern. Jungkook put his hands up in defense. You followed Jimin’s lead and went down into the house, Jungkook trailing closely behind. The three of you reached Hobi’s bedroom.

“Tell me one good reason that I shouldn’t smash your face” Jimin sneered. Jungkook, to your dismay, could not stop smiling.

“I dare you to try”

“Guys!” You finally intervened. “Please, let’s just talk it out” You plopped down on Hobi’s bed. “I wanna get back to the party so just make it quick”

Jungkook suddenly pulled down his shorts. You quickly covered your eyes and Jimin yelled out “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Let’s just have sex.” He whined “It would be so good, think about it. It’s like revenge sex, hate sex, jealous sex all in one.”

You could hear him stroke himself slightly, and you opened your eyes to watch. Jungkook had a body of a God. Your heart raced, unsure if this was a dream.

“You’re insane. I am not having sex with you. And y/n is definitely not.” Jimin approached Jungkook with the intention of pushing him away, but Jungkook was stronger, and simply held Jimin in place, kissing him on the lips. Your eyes widened at the scene. Never would you have thought you would see two of the hottest guys you knew kissing right in front of your eyes.

Jimin pushed Jungkook back, “Dude what the fuck?”

Jungkook licked his lips, “Come on Jimin, don’t be a prude, live a little. It’s an experience”

“My problem isn’t fucking you, it’s you fucking Y/N”

Jungkook turned to you. “Do you want to do this? Do you wanna try it out?”

You bit your lip. You did fantasize about having one someday, just not necessarily with these people. However, Jungkook looked stunning and Jimin made your heart race. It could be amazing.

“I guess I’d be down to experiment…but I don’t know if I’ll like it” You commented, hugging your knees to your chest. Jungkook knelt down and kissed the tops of your knees.

“Oh baby girl, there’s no stopping me once I get my hands on you”

You didn’t have time to process what he said before he was pulling down your shorts and pulling off your top. Your naked breasts bounced in front of his eyes.

“Oh fuck yes” He muttered. He motioned for Jimin to join him on the ground. Next thing you knew, both boys were on their knees before you, each one with their mouth latched to one of your breasts. It was the most erotic sensation you had ever felt. It was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help the loud moans that slid past your lips.

“Oh my…holy…shit that feels” Your sentences were unable to form, it was as if the electric pulses of the way their tongues circled and lapped at your sensitive nipples shut down the rest of your brain. Waves of heat seared through your veins and your hips bucked up unconsciously. Jungkook, who was already naked, helped you lay back on the bed.

“Now, Jimin. Since you two actually like each other or whatever, I’ll let you pick.” He motioned towards your body that was squirming around and begging for their attention. “Pussy or tits”

Jimin frowned at Jungkook’s coarse language, but scanned your body nevertheless, considering his options.

“You are not getting inside her.” He mumbled. Jungkook shrugged.

“Either works” He climbed over your face so that his knees were on either side of you. His large hands pushed your breasts together as he let his long, thick cock slap against your glittering skin. The view wasn’t ideal, but once you felt Jimin’s soft fingers caressing your thighs, you relaxed immediately.

“Condom?” Jungkook asked. Jimin smirked slightly and shook his head. “Oh wow, Park Jimin’s gonna take his bitch raw. Impressive”

“I’m protected you idiot” You mumbled, shutting your eyes so you could focus on the feeling of Jungkook slowly sliding his cock in between your heaving breasts. The invasion accelerated your heartrate. The way his tip just rubbed against the valley of your chest almost feverishly as he picked up his face. You were so turned on you couldn’t believe it.

Jungkook let out soft grunts as he thrusted into you. Meanwhile you could hear Jimin undress and start stroking himself, the sound of skin on skin driving you wild. Your thighs trembled in anticipation.

Finally Jimin was hard and ready for you. He watched carefully as Jungkook fucked your tits mercilessly, his hands clenching your breasts so harshly you were afraid they might bruise. You felt Jimin tease your exposed folds with the tip of his cock. You let out a whimper when he backed up a little to continue stroking himself.

“Jimin” You whined helplessly, “Jimin please. I wanna feel you please”

“I…” Jimin still wasn’t sure that he wanted to do this. Seeing you, with Jungkook almost sitting on your face and using you like a sex doll, it made him feel queasy.

“Jimin baby please I need you” Your voice almost sounded to him like a cry for help. His eyes narrowed at Jungkook who was too fucked out to notice.

Suddenly you felt something wet sprawl all over your stomach. Jungkook came. Everywhere.

“Fuck that was so good” He groaned, releasing his hold on your aching breasts only long enough to slap them harshly before squeezing them again one last time. He carefully got off of you and stood up. You opened your eyes to see Jimin still standing where he was, only this time with his cock out in his hand. Jungkook began to dress himself.

“You missed out Jimin. Oh well” He winked, and as if nothing happened, he was gone.

You and Jimin were silent.

“I…” Jimin stuttered, slightly embarrassed that he froze up and didn’t join in, “I just…couldn’t. The way he was just, using you, I felt…dirty”

You sighed. “Come here” He obeyed, cuddling up behind you. He wasn’t as hard as he could be, so you figured you might as well assist him with that.

You reached down and began stroking his cock. He nestled his face into your neck.

“I’m so sorry y/n” He whispered before letting out a pleasurable whine “I’m so sorry”

He kept apologizing as you jacked him off, eventually spitting in your hands to increase speed at which you pumped him up and down along his length. Something about his pitiful whining was turning you on a lot. You wrapped your whole hand around his cock and guided it in between your ass. Jimin moaned loudly.

“Oh my godddd” He exhaled as you wiggled your ass back and he entered you from behind. “Can we just stay like this for a bit baby? Can you keep my cock warm while I cuddle you hm?”

You nodded, and he softly kissed your neck.

“You’re mine. I’m never sharing you again”

<-----previous next------>

A/N: i know the smut was very much not satisfying in this, i promise the next part is nice n dirty. hehe.

taglist: (lmk if you wanna be added!!) @honeyspillings @hollowtree10

142 notes · View notes

generous1ty · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Can I request the #31 angst prompt with Hajime and with she or they prounouns? I'm a sucker for angst lol <D

hihi!

aaaasgsjdkkd i am also a sucker for angst and love producing it-- and you chose Hajime so this is going to hurt. :)

update on the Prompt Event: sadly, i couldn’t get all the requests done today(i was busy getting the house ready to move). but, i’ll be slowly working on them until they’re done! apologies to anyone sending requests, as i’m currently prioritizing prompt requests right now.

thank you for requesting! lots of love. </3

✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑

Bullet to the Heart

Angst Prompt 31 with Hajime!

link to the prompt list!

genre: comfort angst warnings: swearing, yelling, affair/cheating accusations, just angst in general </3 word count: 1.5k

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

the house you stayed in felt more like a “living space” than a “home”.

Hajime Hinata was partially the reason why things were so different; late nights out, drinking with friends, the silent treatments, the cold shoulders... but even so, you could hardly complain-- avoiding any contact with him, leaving packaged foods you cooked on the table, locking yourself in a different room than the one you both slept in.

it was so different from when you both first moved into the house.

you could reminisce about the times when you were both deeply in love-- trying so desperately to make things work, even though the odds were against you both. you could remember his smile, the way he’d longingly stare at you and reach for your hand, whispering in your ear,

“we will make a future for ourselves.”

oh, how you wished those words still played now.

currently, you and your partner were at the dining table, eating in silence. it had been days since you had last talked-- you don’t even remember the last conversation you had.

despite how rough things were, he had still decided to come home early. it was definitely a good thing, right? improvement in your relationship, a sign that he wanted things to get better, right?

Hajime’s pale-green eyes had looked at you, his hardened stare softening at just the sight of you. he had missed you, but was going through things all wrong-- he knew that. he knew that yet his actions still continued-

why was he doing this? he’d often ask himself that. was he looking for excitement? adrenaline? the rush he had felt back in college? he had settled down with you, but things just never felt right anymore.

his frown was apparent-- not that you noticed-- and he had swallowed his food to speak, “i... decided to come home earlier today.”

god damn it, Hajime.

his act of communication had startled you, but your gaze did not meet his, “yeah...”

talking to him seemed hard now. although you longed for his touch, his voice, the loving stare he’d give you even if you were doing nothing, you couldn’t even manage talking to him-- something you’ve wanted to do for so long.

“....i’ve been stalling at work, lately. i’m currently picking up coding to manage online affairs,” he continued, trying to ease the unnecessary tension and get a conversation going.

you peeked up at him, finally looking him in the eyes, “coding..?” you had managed to push out, “isn’t it complicated?”

you had given a soft chuckle, something he missed hearing. his mouth perked up into a small smile, happy to contribute to the discussion.

“it is,” he admitted, feeling comfortable to complain and expose a weaker side to you that he hadn’t been able to do in a long, long time, “it makes my head pound most of the time.”

ah, his smile. it had widened as he talked, and made your heart flutter uncontrollably. yes, this was it. this was what you needed. a heart-to-heart, a simple talk.

the smile that had made its way on to your face had subtly died down, sighing, “...what went wrong? why are we like this now, Hajime?”

your focus had been on your hands, gently cupping the empty plate in front of you. what had gone wrong? what in the world happened that you felt the need to isolate yourself from him? ignore him? avoid him? why did you feel like this interaction would be the only conversation you’d have with him until the routine started over again?

“i... don’t know,” his voice had interrupted your thoughts, painfully reminding you that you had initiated this conversation. whatever happened next was your fault, “but, why don’t you know? you’ve been contributing to this-- this stupid charade ever since it started!”

your eyes squinted, brows furrowing, “what-- what the hell, Hajime?! if you hadn’t started drinking with your coworkers or going out at night without me knowing, maybe i’d feel more comfortable around you!”

you just raised you voice at him-- you just raised your voice at him. you hadn’t done that before.

your heart beat loudly in your chest, hands trembling as your vision started to blur. what? what? was this your fault?

“you never even came to check up on me, where else am i supposed to go?!” he raised his voice, throat burning from the friction.

he never once though that he needed to-- not around you, at least. why was he yelling? why did he feel hurt?

“fuck, [Y/n]! how do you expect me to talk to you when you’re never there for me?!” he stood up, the chair behind him screeching against the marble floor, “i obviously needed to go somewhere else, right?”

you grit your teeth, letting out a shaky breath, “how is this my fault?! if you had just talked to me then maybe things would have been alright-- but now we’re in deep shit because your actions-- not mine!”

Hajime made a sharp inhale, his heart practically jumping out of his chest. him? this wasn’t because of him, was it? his actions, things he did-- it couldn’t have been just him, it was-

“if i’m so unbearable and uncomfortable, maybe you should just go to your mistress-- fuck her until 2am, why don’t you?” your voice trembled with your hands, standing from your seat and leaving the kitchen.

the room, you needed to go to the room. you promised yourself you’d bring that up when you both were better. you promised that you’d talk about it in full detail once you and Hajime had fixed things. not now. not now.

“what--” Hajime’s eyes had peered at your back-- and you could feel it.

was he glaring at you? angry that you had found out about him and his affair? was he balling his fists in anger, waiting to blame it on you as well?

“you heard me,” you growled, “if i’m so hard to deal with, just move out an-and live with the woman you’ve been so intimate with every fucking weekend!” you couldn’t help the stutter in your voice, your breathing so erratic that it hurt your chest.

you couldn’t stop the tears that dropped down your cheeks-- almost as much as when you found the shirt with someone’s perfume and smudged lipstick on the collar.

it hurt. it hurt knowing the man you moved in with to start something amazing had suddenly found something amazing with someone else-- behind your back, at that.

"look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said." his voice rumbled, your eyes that avoided his gaze had finally looked at your lover, eyes shut as if he were thinking, “go on, i’ll listen.”

“the woman you’ve been sleeping with,” you repeated, “just go live with her since i’m so despicable.” you muffled the sob that threatened to spill out, stuck on the stairs because of this conversation.

as he opened his eyes and started to walk towards you, your heart had dropped.

was he going to pack his things? was he finally leaving? you were so surprised he dealt with you for so long-- so if what you were thinking of was really what he was going to do, you couldn’t help but agree.

but instead, his arms wrapped around you; tight, loving, longingly. he was upset, you could feel it in his embrace. but, he still loved you. despite your harmful words, your accusations, he was holding you as if you were leaving-- not him.

he let out a shaky breath, “i don’t have a mistress.”

“but-”

“that night, this woman from my company tried to hit on me-- she was really close to me that night and tried to initiate something by kissing my neck. we didn’t do anything, i stopped her before she could touch me anywhere else,” he sounded so sure, his hold on you tightening, “i promise this is the truth-- so please... if i don’t leave, please don’t go.”

you both had fallen on to the floor beneath you, arms around each other, thankful for the other’s embrace.

you had never felt such anxiety-- such shock before that night, and you never wanted to experience it again. you were apologetic for avoiding him, accusing him, belittling him. you had never once thought of listening to him or greeting him to see what was wrong. you had been wallowing in your own self-pity that it was embarrassing, but he felt the same.

it was heartbreaking you’d accuse him of something that shallow, but he couldn’t blame you. he was wrong for not talking to you and taking another way out, simply going out to drink and letting the alcohol carry his worries away. he was sorry for going out and coming home late, leaving without notice, drowning himself in self-pity as well.

you both weren’t perfect, that was a fact. you were both human, imperfections that still needed to grow and make decisions. those decisions will be hard, and it’ll feel as if you’d be backed away into a corner.

but at least you wouldn’t do it alone anymore.

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girlmeetsliv3 · 4 years ago

Text

Lilies of the Valley VI

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

“Why is there a missing flower you ask? I have left it out for only you could complete me.”

Release Date: 06/05/20 @ 7 pm

previous ~ next

It had been three days since YN had broken the fever and experienced her heat. The past days had been uneventful mainly, as most of the alphas remained hidden away in the main house. Like a routine, each of the men would swing by to check on her: Taehyung in the morning, Jimin for lunch, and Yoongi at dinner. It had been annoying at first, but YN had become accustomed to their presence which after dwelling on it for some bit she surmised was their plan. Then there lay another issue which had entirely slipped her mind until earlier this morning when she had received a call from her mother.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Oh, it’s so nice to hear your voice. You really should call more often we all miss you.”

“I know. Sorry, I’ve just been busy.”

“I was just calling to remind you about your sister’s engagement brunch. Seeing as you didn’t rsvp.”

Shit. “Yeah, um, about that -”

"No excuses. You promised you would go." There was a brief pause before her mother spoke again. "I know you're worried, but it's the 21st-century darling. Mates aren't as important as they used to be. People are a lot more open-minded nowadays."

“I know, Mom.”

“I just miss you so much, YN. It would mean a lot to the family if you showed up. You might regret not being there and your sister has promised that they’ll be no unmated alphas so you don’t have to worry.”

“Alright, mom. I’ll be there.”

Now YN had a little over twenty-four hours to convince her mates to allow her to go alone. It would be easier to steal the crown jewels. Though she appreciated it, the men had been noticeably tenser since her heat and she couldn’t predict how they would react. So, perhaps it would be best to wait this out. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. No point in damaging the delicate peace that had been established between her and the pack.

"You seem distracted," Jimin commented as the two of them sat at the edge of her bed watching some random sitcom YN had settled on. In front of her was a bowl of ramyeon that had been cooked by Seokjin. It hurt her pride to admit that it tasted delicious as if the man needed any more positive qualities to be attributed to him. "I was just wondering how everyone is." If the alphas were still out of commission, it would be an easier escape. The betas were still protective over YN, but less so.

“Ah, about that. We were wondering if you wanted to join us for dinner tonight? I promise everyone will be on their best behavior.”

YN doubted that sincerely, but it wouldn’t hurt her to show up. It would better her chances of convincing them, by demonstrating that all the effects of her heat were gone. Though there was one thing to account for. “Is that okay? So soon after their ruts?” YN was sure hormones were bound to be raging and it might not bode well for her either, but Jimin gave her the sweetest of smiles when he said. “Of course, we’d never do anything to put you in harm's way.” How could she not believe him? Even when deep down she knew it was a lie.

It stank. To be entirely honest it wasn't a bad smell, but it was so intense that YN could practically choke on it and that's what made it unpleasant. The manor was less polished than the first time she had been there, but not so. Before it looked like something one would find in the cover of architectural digest, now it simply looked lived in. Even if it was warmer these days, YN still covered up drowning herself in jeans and a large wool sweater. Yoongi hadn't commented anything when he came to pick her up, merely intertwined his hands in hers, and led her towards the dining room. The second she crossed over the threshold, arms swept her up into the air. Jungkook's musky scent filled her senses.

“I missed you.” He said, before placing her back on the ground. It took all her will power, not to recoil from the young alpha and he seemed greatly pleased at that. “Yah, Kookie. Let her be, you stink.” Hoseok scolded, as he helped set the dishes. As YN glanced around she saw everyone settling into their seats, her eyes met Seokjin’s briefly and he flashed her a smile. One that, subconsciously or not, YN returned. However, someone was missing as there were only six in the room.

"Where's Namjoon?" YN asked, looking around. Everyone seemed to stiffen a bit but refrained from answering. Suddenly, YN felt hot breath caress her ears causing her to jump slightly. Namjoon chuckled before placing his arms on her hips, "Right here, Lily." Before she could respond, he moved away towards his seat at the front. YN went to sit between the beta's like last time but found the only available space was between Jungkook and Hoseok. Great. This is going to be a long night. From what little she knew about ruts, YN knew that alphas tended to be a bit needy afterward - especially if they were mated. YN hadn't assumed this would matter much since her partial bond was tied to Jungkook and not the lead alpha, but it seemed to affect them all nonetheless. On the one hand, there were the peering eyes of Namjoon and Jungkook moving his chair ever so slightly closer to hers whenever he thought she wasn't looking. On her other side was Hoseok, whose legs would brush hers under the table.

Then there was Seokjin, who simply smiled at her whenever their eyes met - which was a lot. Even though the atmosphere wasn’t as tense as the first night, it still felt suffocating to her. She was beginning to look forward to the trip, preferring to stay a weekend with her stingy relatives rather than the men.

“Are you alright, YN? You’ve barely touched your food.” Suddenly all eyes were on her, she nodded meekly trying to play it off but the damage had been done.

Hoseok’s palm came to rest on her forehead and she wasn’t sure how he was supposed to check her temperature given how warm he was. “You are a bit warm.”

“Do you not feel good?” Jungkook spoke up beside her, as he tucked a loose strand behind her ear.

“I’m fine. Just a bit warm that’s all.” Immediately Namjoon gestured for the air conditioning to be lowered. All eyes were on her now and despite how uncomfortable it made her, it did present an opportunity. Here goes nothing. "I wanted to speak to all of you about something." The change was minuscule, blink and you'll miss it sort of thing, but had YN been paying attention she might have noticed the darkened look that crossed over then men's faces. How their eyes became hooded in anticipation.

“My sister is engaged and I’m supposed to be attending a family brunch is her honor.” At this all seven of them visibly slackened, tension exiting their bodies.

"That's fantastic," Jimin spoke, lips pulled upward into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Unfortunately I've got work, so I won't be able to meet the family just yet."

Wait. What? “Uh -”

Taehyung's baritone voice echoed loudly, "I can't either. Have to help Jimin." It was then that YN realized she'd been misunderstood. They thought she was asking for accompaniment when all she had been doing was informing them. Cautiously her eyes turned to Yoongi, who merely shrugged. "I'm overdue for a deadline." No.

“Well,” Namjoon cleared his throat. “That settles it then, you’ll be going with us.” If the smile he flashed her was meant to be reassuring, it accomplished the opposite of its goals.

"Promise me, you'll behave." Yoongi wrapped his arms around Hoseok's neck puckering his lips as the lead alpha leaned down to kiss him. "No promises." He smirked, before placing the last of his luggage in the trunk. YN could swear it was a week-long trip with the number of clothes the men had packed, not to mention all the last-minute wardrobe changes they had forced on her. There was a bigger issue that hung over YN's head, much larger than her being stuck with only Alphas for the entire weekend, it was that her family wasn't aware of her current living situation. All they knew of her 'mates' was the incident and YN didn't think they'd be so inclined to welcome them into their home.

So, they had booked a hotel. It didn't really address the issue but considering YN was certainly going to arrive late, her childhood home was bound to be taken up by relatives. Once in the car, the atmosphere was quite tense though that was mainly because Jungkook had almost thrown a temper tantrum when he saw that YN was sitting between Seokjin and Namjoon. Not him. "Jungkook if you don't quell your hormones, I will buy you a literal dog house for you to sleep in." Seokjin threatened, earning a few snickers and a pout from the young alpha.

YN stared out the window seeing the houses move by as Namjoon scrolled on his phone. Whenever YN was in cars she always thought of what she should do if an escape needed to be made. The fault of that might be on all the spy movies she grew up watching. The other might be the Omega protection course she was forced to take in college which engrained survival skills such as: covering up, self-defense, and how to escape a kidnapper. Fun things. She was beginning to wonder whether or not escape was possible when it dawned on YN that her eyes had been situated on Namjoon’s phone the entire time. The man in question had noticed as well.

“Sorry, I zoned out.” She rushed to apologize.

Namjoon smiled, “Don’t worry I noticed. I was just setting up an appointment with Dr. Lee.” Who? "She's an OB. I spoke with her to get you off suppressants." Ah, right. YN had yet to tell them that her prolonged heat was more her due to misuse than the suppressants. Sensing her discomfort, Seokjin grabbed her hand and squeezed it tenderly. "Don't worry. We'll figure it out." YN couldn't figure out if he'd been referring to the suppressants, the family visit, or everything that was happening. It didn't matter, YN didn't believe him for a second.

Instead, YN took a deep breath and closed her eyes, preferring sleep than having any more interactions with the alphas. She knew once they arrived, she would need all her strength. Her family wasn't bound to be happy at not being informed at their daughter's mating status - not to mention who her mates were. It seems Jungkook was wearing headphones for YN could barely pick up the rhythmic thumping of bass, but that was enough to lull her into a nap.

When YN awoke, she found herself strewn across the laps of the men. Though she had not opened her eyes, she sensed her head was resting on Hoseok's with her feet at Namjoon's. Delicate hands weaved themselves through her hair, their calming nature causing YN to shift in order to feel the sensation more. She swore she heard the muttering of a 'cute' before the glare of the sun hit her face, forcing her awake. "C'mon, baby. Rise and shine." Yn grunted and stood up, the back passenger door had been opened but all of them had remained in place. In her groggy state, YN rubbed her eyes and asked. "Why'd you move me?" Instead of an answer, she got a pat on the back and Jungkook tugged her off the car.

YN's eyes widened in recognition as she saw Yeong-gwang's school grounds in front of her. It had been years, but the school's arches remained as pristine as she remembered them. Its Rococo inspired architecture is a clear demonstration of its wealth and status. YN's parents could just barely afford tuition and only received a scholarship because her grandfather attended. "What are we doing here?" She wanted to move her eyes away, but they remained frozen on the platinum gates. A place that once held such fond memories was now only a place of tragedy for her.

“Your sister wanted to meet here.” And as if having called on the devil herself, she appeared.

“What the fuck are they doing here?!”

Sorry this update is short, but that’s because the next one is going to be long and important.

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@alex--awesome--22

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jensengirl83 · 4 years ago

Text

Unsung Verses Chapter 12

Rockstar!Dean x plus sized reader

Word Count- 5545

Summary-Y/N and Dean have been best friends since high school, in a band together, and dated for a year but decided they were better off friends. They play gig after gig trying to get discovered, but once they sign a record deal, will fame be all it’s cracked up to be? Or will it be too much for their relationship to handle? Join them on their adventure to fame and find out!

Warnings- Angst, Fluff, Language, SMUT

A/N- This chapter is a day early because I won’t be able to post tomorrow. I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you to @deanwanddamons for being my beta for this series!

Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

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The playlist is a big part of the series!

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Y/N and Dean had enjoyed their time with family back in Kansas. Their engagement, along with Sam and Jess’s, was the talk of the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Sam and Jess had already been talking about wedding plans, but Y/N hadn’t even thought about that yet. Not that she wasn’t excited to marry Dean, she absolutely was, but her mind was stuck on the upcoming tour. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t going to go as smoothly as everyone thought it would. She had kept that thought to herself through the holidays.

They had flown back to California the day after New Year’s day, as they had to prepare to leave soon. They had to meet with Nick one last time to settle on the crew that would accompany them on tour, and Y/N and Dean wanted to get settled into the new home they were going to share before they left. That’s what led her to where she was now, standing in the living room of their house, waiting on the moving company to deliver their things. As she looked around the empty space, she felt arms snake around her waist, causing her to smile and relax.

“I can’t believe you bought this house,” Dean whispered, his chin resting on her head.

“Well, you fell in love with it when we saw it, and I didn’t want to live in the penthouse anymore,” she shrugged, not thinking buying a house was that big of a deal.

“I’m sorry,”

“What? Why are you sorry?” she asked, turning her head to look at him, confused as to what he could be talking about.

“I know you didn’t want to live there anymore because of all the bad memories. The fights, the stress, and it’s partially my fault,” he sighed, laying his head on her shoulder.

“Dean…” she said, turning in his arms to face him, “I want you to listen to me. Yes, we had some bad days there, but it’s behind us now. I want us to move on and get ready for our future, not dwell in the past,”

“I know, sweetheart, but I can’t help it. I hurt you, and I can’t let that go,”

“We hurt each other, babe. We were both at fault, but we have to let it go and move on. So, please, leave the bad memories at the door, and we can make new, happy memories here,” she said with a smile, standing on her toes to place a soft kiss on his lips.

“Damn, I’m one lucky son of a bitch,” he laughed, leaning in to kiss her again.

“I don’t know about that,” she giggled.

“I do. Y/N, I mean it when I tell you there will never be another woman for me. You’re it for me, baby. I couldn’t imagine my life without you, and I hope I never have to know what it’s like,”

Y/N couldn’t find the words to express what she wanted to say. He was her world, and she wasn’t sure how to tell him how much he truly meant to her. She had been in love with the man before her for so long that she couldn’t imagine him not being there. As words continued to fail her, she did all she could think to do, grabbing his face between her hands, crushing her lips to his. She could only hope that he could tell what she was feeling for him as the kiss deepened, their bodies pressed against the other.

Dean moved his lips from hers to trail kisses down her jaw to her neck while his hands found their way under her shirt. The feeling of her soft skin beneath his hands drove him wild, making his cock twitch in his jeans, quickly becoming hard. The quiet moans and whimpers leaving her lips only made it worse, his need to be inside her growing by the second. As he had her pinned against the wall, he began to grind himself against her, ready to take her then and there when the doorbell rang. They groaned in unison at the interruption.

“They’re fucking early,” he growled, looking down at his watch.

“I know. It looks like we’ll have to take a raincheck for now,” she groaned, “Go get the door,”

“Uhhh, sweetheart, maybe you should answer the door,” he said, looking down between them, “I have an obvious problem,”

“It’s fine. I’m sure it’s not something they haven’t seen before,” she joked, getting a bitch face from Dean.

“Y/N....” he whined, causing her to burst into a fit of giggles.

“Fine. Go calm down, and then get your cute ass back down here. I’m not doing the unpacking by myself,” she laughed, turning to walk away when he grabbed her, pulling her back to him.

“Sweetheart, when they leave, you are mine!” he growled in her ear, causing a shiver to run up her spine.

She watched as he walked away and up the stairs, stopping halfway to send a wink in her direction. Why did the movers have to show up early? She sighed as she walked to the door to let them in and begin packing in their belongings. She was frustrated that they had interrupted her and Dean, but she knew what would happen once the movers were gone, and she couldn’t wait, her thighs involuntary clenching at the thought. She shook the thoughts from her mind, beginning to unpack the boxes as they were brought in. She and Dean would have their time together later. She just had to be patient.

Dean was back downstairs and helping her unpack not too long after the movers arrived, both of them wanting to get as much done as possible. They let the moving people do the heavy lifting, as that’s what they were being paid to do, and after a few hours, all their furniture was in the house and where it was supposed to be. All that was left to do was empty the boxes and put the things where they belonged.

Dean paid the company what they were owed and shut and locked the door behind them. As he turned to walk back into the living room, he stopped and leaned back against the door. Y/N was bent over looking through one of the boxes, and he couldn’t help himself but stare. Her shorts had ridden up her legs and were giving him quite the view of her ass, and their actions before they were interrupted earlier that day were brought to the forefront of his mind once again. He pushed himself off the door, walking straight to her, grabbing her hips and grinding his hardening cock against her.

“I seem to remember me telling you what was going to happen when they left. Well, sweetheart, they’re gone now,” he groaned, pushing harder against her, before pulling her to stand.

“Dean, we need to get some more of this stuff put away,” she whined, quickly giving in as he nibbled on her neck.

“That can wait, baby. I’ve been thinking about that sweet pussy since we were interrupted this morning, and I’m not waiting any longer,” he told her, spinning her in his arms and crashing his lips to hers, backing her up against the wall where they were earlier that day.

Once her back touched, he was all over her, hands and lips moving against her skin, igniting a fire only he could extinguish. No man had ever made her feel the way he did, made her want them so badly with just a touch, just a kiss. He knew what to do, what to say to drive her wild, and she loved every minute when they were together like this.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, make you scream so loud the neighbors will know my name before we ever introduce ourselves,” he whispered in her ear, his hand moving into the front of her shorts and panties, sliding his fingers between her folds.

“Dean…” she moaned, not able to form coherent words. His filthy mouth doing things to her and making her legs tremble.

“That’s it, baby, but you’re going to have to be louder than that,” he smirked, pushing two fingers into her throbbing heat, “Come on, sweetheart, get loud for me,”

She threw her head back with a loud groan as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, hard and fast, her moans getting louder as he brought her closer to the edge. Her legs were shaking with her impending release, grabbing his shoulders to keep herself standing. But before she could come, he slipped his hand out of her shorts, putting them in his mouth to lick them clean.

“Always so good, Y/N. I could taste you all day long,”

“Dean...please,”

“Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me what you want me to do to you,”

“I need you to fuck me! I need to feel you, now!” she pleaded, wanting him to fill her up only as he could.

The moan that left him was almost feral as he pulled her shorts and panties off in one fluid motion, her shirt and bra right behind them. His clothes weren't far behind as he led her to the couch, bending her over the arm, kicking her feet apart, and lining himself up at her entrance. Grasping his cock, he slid it through her folds, gathering her wetness before thrusting hard, burying himself deep inside her.

“Fuck! Dean, move, please!”

“Does my girl want me to fuck her? Make her come on my cock?” he rasped, grinding his hips against her.

“Yes! Oh God, yes!”

He pulled out slowly, slamming back in hard, setting a brutal pace. His hands digging into her hips were sure to leave bruises, but she didn't care. All she needed was to come, screaming his name just like he wanted her to do.

One of his hands slid up her back, wrapping into her hair, pulling her up, and pinning her back against his chest,his other hand reaching around to rub on her clit, causing her back to arch, pushing him even deeper inside her.

“Come for me, baby. Let me feel that tight little pussy squeeze me so good, ” he whispered in her ear before placing his lips to her neck, nibbling and sucking on her pulse point.

“I'm so close, De…” she whined, right on the edge of what she was sure to be one of the hardest orgasms she’d ever had.

“Not loud enough, sweetheart,” he growled, stilling deep within her, “I told you I wanted to hear you scream. Now, are you going to be a good girl and come shouting my name, or do I have to leave you like this, dripping wet and begging?”

“Dean! Please!” she shouted, pushing back against him to get any kind of friction.

“That’s much better, baby,” he laughed wryly, resuming his punishing pace, “Come, now!”

Her orgasm crashed over her like never before, her whole body shaking with pleasure as she yelled his name in a chant. A white-hot heat coursed through her, barely able to keep her legs beneath her, his arms the only thing keeping her standing.

“Fuck...Y/N!”

Dean's loud moan of her name as he came was what brought her back to reality. Neither one was the dominant one when it came to sex; the role was commonly shared equally. She wasn’t sure what had brought this dominant side out in him, but she wasn't going to complain.

His arms slowly loosened around her, allowing her to slump back over the sofa, trying to catch her breath. They both groaned in discomfort as he slid himself out of her, their combined juices running down her inner thighs.

“Oh, God…” she whimpered, barely able to stand back up.

“Shit! Y/N, baby, I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” Dean questioned her, worry evident on his face, “I don't know what came over me. If it made you uncomfortable I won’t do it again,”

“Dean, calm down. I'm fine, just wasn't expecting that, to be honest,” she chuckled.

“Are you sure I didn't hurt you? I'd never forgive myself if I did,” he mumbled, hanging his head.

“Hey, look at me. Do you really think I wouldn't say anything if you were doing something I didn't like? Stop worrying, babe,” she sighed, standing on her toes to kiss him.

“Okay. How does a nap sound? I'm a little tired after that,” he laughed, kissing her on the nose.

“Sounds great! Meet you there in five minutes?”

“I’ll be waiting, beautiful,” he smiled, kissing her one more time before heading up the stairs to their room.

She watched as he walked up the stairs, smiling at the sight before her. Shaking her head with a giggle, she walked around gathering their clothes before she joined him upstairs. After the clothes were piled in her arms, she stopped to look around, a happy sigh leaving her lips. If anyone would’ve told her a few years ago that she would be standing in the living room of a house she was going to share with Dean, she would’ve laughed in their face. But, here she was, in the first home that she owned with the love of her life and the happiest she had been in a very long time.

Once she reached the top of the stairs, she turned left for their room, holding back a laugh when she walked through the door. Dean was laid spread eagle on the bed, already snoring. She had always wondered how men could just fall asleep so fast. It took her what felt like a decade to succumb, having to contemplate her entire life in her head every night before sleep ever came to her. Tossing the garments she was carrying in the corner, she made her way to the bed and climbed in beside him, turning her back to him and pulling the blankets up to her chin.

As she began to relax and drift into sleep, she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist, pulling her back against him. She smiled as he nuzzled his face into her hair, placing a kiss right behind her ear, his hand splayed across her lower belly. Warm and comfortable in his hold, she was fastly giving in to slumber, but the words that left his lips made her eyes spring open wide.

“Let’s have a baby,”

She spun around in bed, shock clearly evident on her face. Her mouth opened and shut, but the words wouldn’t come to her. What had brought this on, and so suddenly? They were getting ready to leave on tour, they weren’t married yet, and he wanted a baby? There were a lot of things that she wanted to say, but all she could do is question him.

“What did you just say?”

“I want a baby, YN. I want to have a baby with you. I want a family,” he whispered. Seeing the expression on her face had made him almost regret bringing it up, but he wasn’t going to drop it now.

“A baby? Dean, we aren’t married yet. We’re getting ready to leave on tour, and we just bought this house..”

“Then let’s go get married!” he beamed at her, wanting nothing more than her to be his wife.

“It’s not that simple…” she sighed.

“Do you not want to get married anymore?” he asked, pulling away from her and sitting up, his feelings hurt, “Am I not what you want? Just be honest with me, Y/N!”

“Dean, you know that’s not true!” she exclaimed, sitting up herself to face him.

“Do I? I just told you I wanted to start a family with you, and you looked like I asked you to go skydiving without a parachute! Would it really be that horrible to have a baby with me? Hell, you didn’t even seem like you wanted to go get married when I mentioned it!” he was shouting, tears brimming his eyes at what he thought was rejection of his idea of getting married and having kids with him.

“I never said that. Of course, I want to marry you! It’s just...you caught me off guard with the baby thing. It was all of a sudden…” she was saying before he interrupted her.

“No, it isn’t, not for me anyway. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I love you, Freddie. I want to marry you, have a family with you, spend the rest of my days growing old with you. I’m not getting any younger, baby. I’ll be twenty-eight in a couple weeks, and I don’t want to wait much longer to start our future together,” he said, his voice quivering with the raw emotions he was feeling.

“I-I...it’s a big responsibility to have a baby. What if I’m not a good mother?” she said so quietly he almost didn’t hear her, but he did, and it broke his heart.

“Is that what you’re worried about? That you won’t be a good mom?”

She looked at him for a moment, trying to find the words to tell him that she would want nothing more than to start a family with him, but she was terrified. How were they supposed to manage to raise a family while on the road? The words were still escaping her, so she just nodded her head as a tear fell down her cheek.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’ll be an amazing mom! Just imagine, a little girl, your smile, your eyes, my freckles…”

“A girl, huh?” she couldn’t help but chuckle at him.

“Of course! Our first kid will be a girl, and she’ll look just like you,” he beamed, his smile infectious.

“What if it’s a boy?” she asked with a laugh.

“Nope, definitely a girl. I know these things, sweetheart,” he winked, causing her to laugh even harder.

“So…” she sighed, “A baby? Are you sure? Don’t you want to be married first?”

“I know that you are my forever, Y/N, and I know that we’re getting married eventually. Is it really that big of a deal if we have a baby before? So, what’d ya say?” he asked, holding his breath for her answer.

She studied his face for a minute, wanting to make sure he was serious. This was a big decision, and she had to be positive that it’s what he wanted. But, she couldn’t find any trace of hesitation or doubt, just love, and adoration in his eyes. With a smile, she nodded her head, letting him know she was on board. The elation and joy on his face would forever be etched in her memory as he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her like she was the only woman in the world. And to him, she was.

“Really, sweetheart? We’re going to have a baby?!” he asked, smiling from ear to ear.

“Well, not tomorrow,” she laughed when he gave her a bitch face, “but yeah, we can start working on a family,”

“Baby! Other than when you said you’d marry me, you’ve just made me the happiest man on earth, sweetheart. I love you so damn much,”

“I love you too, so much,”

Dean was beaming. He was finally going to have everything he wanted. Life couldn’t get any better than this. He had his girl, a now successful music career, and they were going to start a family. How had a man like him ever gotten so lucky? How had a woman as beautiful and caring as Y/N ever given him the time of day? He had always wondered what she saw in him, but he would always thank whatever higher power had brought her into his life. Because no matter what, he knew that he was meant to be hers, as she was meant to be his.

The next week had flown by. Y/N and Dean had finally gotten their things unpacked and where they belonged and had finalized their plans for starting their family. She wanted to wait until they got on tour and see how smooth it would go before she stopped her birth control. Dean wasn’t that happy with the idea initially but had agreed, knowing that waiting another month or so wasn’t that big of a deal. Besides, she was the one who would be doing all the sacrificing as far as bringing a child into the world goes, and he wanted her to be as comfortable with it as she could.

They had also decided to keep it to themselves, letting the family know when the pregnancy actually happened. There was no need to include them yet, especially knowing that they would drive Y/N and Dean crazy, wanting to see if it had happened yet. It would be less stressful to keep it a secret between the two of them. With the tour starting in just a few days, they didn’t need any extra stress.

That’s what had them where they were now, sitting in Nick’s office, waiting for him so they could finalize the details and the people that would be their crew on the road. They were all excited to get on tour and start performing their new music for the fans, but Y/N still couldn’t shake the feeling something would go wrong. She was chewing on her bottom lip, one of her tells for when she was nervous, but Dean could see it before she ever pulled her lip between her teeth.

“Please relax, baby. I know you’re nervous, but it will all be okay,” he whispered, placing his hand on her cheek, pulling her lip free with his thumb.

“You don’t know that!” she exclaimed, her leg beginning to bounce with nervousness, “What if it all goes wrong?”

“Then we will deal with it... together,” he smiled, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

She opened her mouth to argue with him but was interrupted when the office door opened, Nick walking into the room with Charlie behind him, a bright smile on her face. Y/N had to admit that seeing Charlie made her nerves ease a little. She and the feisty red-head had become friends while recording their album, as her infectious personality always made Y/N smile. Seeing the smile on Charlie’s face made Y/N have a small glimmer of hope that the tour may actually work out okay.

“Hey, guys,” Nick greeted them, sitting behind his desk, “Let’s get down to business, so we don’t have to keep you here any longer than necessary. I know you’ll have a lot to do to get ready to leave. As you’ve noticed, Charlie is here, as she will be your sound engineer on the road, personally asking for the job,”

“Really?” Y/N asked with a smile, “You’ll be going on tour with us?”

“Yep! This album is absolutely bomb, and I wanted to be there myself to make sure that the sound was right before every show!” Charlie laughed, seeing the excitement on all their faces.

“Have you already hired the crew that will be setting up the shows?” Cas asked.

“Yes, that’s all been settled,” Nick stated.

“Well, all that’s left would be the tour manager, right?” Sam’s question made them all nod in agreement.

“Yeah, who is that going to be anyway?” Dean asked, looking at Nick, waiting on an answer.

As if it was orchestrated, the door to the office opened. Everyone turned in their seats to see who was coming into the room. An audible gasp was heard, but Y/N didn’t deter her eyes from who was standing there, a smirk on their face.

Lisa

“No need for introductions, as you’ve met before, but Lisa will be the tour manager for the band,” Nick said, everyone’s jaw’s hanging in shock, minus Y/N’s. Hers was clenched in anger.

“No! Absolutely not! She’s not going on tour with us!” Y/N shouted, jumping from her seat to glare at Nick.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but you have no say in this decision,” he smirked, making her even more livid.

“Yes, I do! I have a say in who I have to be around for months on the road!” she was still shouting, anger washing over her in waves.

“No, you really don’t,” Lisa chuckled wryly, “Guess you should’ve waited on a lawyer to look over your contract before you signed it. The record company has the right to make all decisions for the band when it comes to the album,”

“If this is going to be a problem, Y/N, I can cancel the tour, and we can end the contract. After you pay back the advance, of course,” Nick told her, a small look of amusement on his features.

“Sweetheart…” Dean’s voice broke the trance she was in, looking over to see him reaching for her, “Let’s walk out in the hallway and talk for a minute,”

She looked at her bandmates, the ones who had been there for her, who stood behind her for over a decade. They had made many sacrifices for her in that time, and what kind of person would she be to end everything they had worked so hard for, and all because she was jealous? She couldn’t do that to them, not even if it meant she would be miserable for the whole tour. With a heavy sigh, she shook her head, looking at them one last time before she turned to Nick.

“Fine, but she will be on her own bus. Our bus is for us, and only us,” she said, motioning her hand to her band.

“That was already the plan,” Nick stated.

“Y/N…”

“No, Dean. It’s fine. Let’s go home and start getting ready to leave. We still have a lot to do,” she said through gritted teeth, not waiting for anyone to answer her before walking out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Sweetheart, please talk to me. You’ve been silent since we left the record company,” Dean pleaded with her as they walked through the door to their home.

“What do you want me to say, Dean?! That we were stupid when we signed the contract before having an attorney look at it? Or that the woman who is hell-bent on getting in your pants is now our god damn tour manager and will be with us on tour every fucking day?!” she screamed, no longer to keep her anger inside.

“And how is that my fault?! You’re taking this shit out on me, and I haven’t done a damn thing!” he shouted back, his frustration boiling over as well.

“Haven’t done anything? Are you serious?! Maybe if you had put her in her place in the very beginning, she would’ve gotten the picture and wouldn’t still be trying to fuck my fiancee!” she was seething, not even noticing the look of heartbreak on Dean’s face.

“How many times do I have to apologize to you? I’ve said I’m sorry over and over, and it’s obvious you haven’t let it go. Y/N, I can’t keep begging for your forgiveness. I’ve tried to show you in every way possible that you are the only woman I want, but I guess that’s not enough for you, is it? I’ve done everything I know to do! What do you want from me?! Fuck!” he shouted, punching the wall.

“Dean…” she whispered in a shaky voice. She knew she had gone too far.

“No! Just...don’t, okay? I need to be alone. I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight,”

“De, please,” she whispered, reaching out for him.

He didn’t say a word, dodging her hand as he walked past her and up the stairs, leaving her standing there. Hearing the door to the guest room slam, her body began to tremble, sobs escaping her lips as she collapsed to the floor. Why did she have to say that? Why couldn’t she get past her insecurities and jealousy and believe him when he said she was the only one for him?

Once behind the closed door of the guest room, Dean broke. He could hear her sobs but couldn’t bring himself to turn around and go to her, hurting too bad as well. He knew he had messed up when the Lisa situation had started, but he had gone out of his way to show her that she was all he ever wanted, the only woman he would ever love. Why didn’t she trust him? It broke his heart knowing that the woman he adored couldn’t believe in him enough to know he would never do anything like that to her.

He threw himself down on the bed, wrapping his arms around one of the pillows, letting the sobs he’d been trying to hold back free. He had finally let her knock down all the walls he had built around his heart, let her in completely, and he didn’t regret that because he had never been as happy in his life as he was when he was with her. But, that also meant that her harsh words hurt him more than anything anyone else said ever could. Burying his face in the pillow, he cried, just wishing that one day, she would finally see just what she meant to him.

He had cried for what seemed like an eternity when he heard the door open and then shut softly. He was silent, waiting to see if she would say anything. The silence continued until he felt the bed dip behind him, her arm reaching over him as she slowly curled up against his back.

“I’m so sorry,”

That’s all she could say before the sobs overtook her again. Dean’s heart sank as he felt her tears soak through his shirt as she clung to him. He hated to see her this way. No matter how much she had hurt his feelings, this was worse. He turned over, pulling her to his chest, still not speaking but holding her in his arms to let her know he was there and she would be okay.

“I’m sorry,” she said again once she had calmed down a little more.

“I know,”

“Dean, don’t. There was no excuse for what I said and how I acted. Please don’t act like it’s okay because that makes me feel worse,” she sniffled, burying her face deeper into him.

“It wasn’t okay, Y/N,” he said, making her look up at him, guilt all over her face, “but I get it. It’s not an excuse, but I know how being insecure messes with your head,”

“How did you know that’s what it is?” she asked, leaning upon her elbow to look him in the eye.

“Really, sweetheart? I’m Dean Winchester, the king of insecurities,” he chuckled, “Just promise me something?”

“What?”

“That from now on, you’ll try to believe me when I tell you that you’re it for me. I don’t care who tries, baby, no other woman will ever hold a candle to you,” he sighed, kissing the top of her head, “So, please, can you try to trust me?”

“I promise, I’ll try to do better, and I do trust you, babe. I really do! I just worry sometimes that you’ll realize you can do so much better,”

“Stop! No! I don’t want to hear any of that. I have exactly who I want, and you are going to have to accept that!” he growled, hating when she was so down on herself.

“But…”

“No buts, Y/N. Do you think I would’ve asked you to marry me and be the mother of my kids if I was a thousand percent sure you’re the one I want?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I guess you’re right,” she sighed.

“Wait! Say that again!” he shouted, reaching into his pocket.

“What? What are you doing?”

“You said I was right! I wanted you to repeat it so I could get it on video as proof cause I’ll probably never hear it again!” he exclaimed, laughing when she swatted his chest.

“De…” she groaned, rolling her eyes, feigning frustration when all she wanted to do was smile.

“Okay, okay, I won’t make you repeat it, but will you remember you said it next time you want to think that you’re not my entire world, my everything?”

“I promise,”

She couldn’t contain her smile as he leaned down to kiss her, his soft lips never ceasing to take her breath away. He pecked her lips a few more times, then her nose, her forehead, and then the crown of her head, both sighing in relief that they were back in each other’s arms where they were supposed to be. They both knew they had things they needed to work on to try and make the relationship stronger, and as long as they were trying together, there wasn’t anything that could stop them. Or at least Y/N hoped so...

@flamencodiva @foxyjwls007 @waywardbeanie @emoryhemsworth @valsworldofcreativity @hardcoresupernatural @msmarvelouswinchester @lyarr24 @anaelsbrunette @akshi8278 @halesandy @miss-nerd95 @ellewritesfix05 @winchest09 @defenderrosetyler @hobby27 @whatareyousearchingfordean @deanwanddamons @atc74 @superfanficnatural @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @squirrelnotsam @tatted-trina6 @xhannahbananax03 @coffeebooksandfandom @nihilismworld @mrsfox79 @malfoysqueen14 @moron225 @deans-baby-momma @lovelyrocker @fablesrose @queenofchaos7 @maralisa124 @deangirl93 @aimee-ginge @anathewierdo @donnaintx @screechingartisancashbailiff @itsdesiree86 @kyjey @roxytheimmortal @briagallen @aubageddon91 @lunarmoon8 @that-one-gay-girl @stoneyggirl @kitkatd7 @wonder-cole @brilovesdeanwinchester @allonsy-yesiwill @krazykelly @440mxs-wife @rebelemilu @sarahbaker2010 @onethirstyunicorn @tyferbebe @metalfangirl @vanessa27xoxo @mishacollins4evah @redbarn1995 @thoughts-and-funnies @izzathequeen @heavensangel45135 @entersand-man @michellethetvaddict @supraveng @percywinchester27 @cno92 @downanddirtydean

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean fanfiction #dean x you #dean x female!reader #dean x plus sized reader #dean au #rockstar au #rockstar!dean #supernatural family #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #spn famdom #spn family #Unsung Verses #Jensengirl83

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whattodowithace · 4 years ago

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Enemies (A.C.E)

Title: Enemies (A.C.E Scenario)

Pairing: Reader x A.C.E

Genre: Slight spice; bickering

Word count: 1622

Writer: Kpopmadness (Ju)

Jun

“Jun, I swear to god, just help me.” She snaps, giving him a hard glare.

“It’s not like I want to do this with you.” Jun growls, taking the spare mop from the closet to help her with clean up.

They had been assigned to clean a portion of the school as punishment for arguing in class. It was partially her fault, but she was too furious at Jun to acknowledge that humbly.

“I don’t want to do this with you either but the sooner we get done the sooner we don’t have to see each other.” She grumbled.

Jun and her had never gotten along. Even though everyone loved Jun and thought he was an angel, he was certainly not to her. Not since he tripped her and made her spill food all over herself in the cafeteria.

“It’s your fault we’re in this.” Jun sneered, making the matter worse.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion!” She yelled, “And it was your fault. We wouldn’t—“

Her words were quickly silenced by Jun forcibly pushing her up against the wall. Her arms being pinned above her.

“Would you shut up for once?” Jun snapped, his nose brushing against hers.

“Oh, you’re one to talk.” She fired back, putting as much sarcasm as she could into her words.

“Don’t test me, sweetheart.” He whispered against gritted teeth, his nose still brushing hers.

They stared into each other’s eyes for awhile, both of their body temperatures rising as they remained grounded where they were. Eventually, Jun let’s her go. She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Jun grumbles awkwardly, something between them shifting after that night.

Chan

“I hate having to work with you.” Chan growled, running his hand through his sweaty hair.

“Yeah, well you aren’t exactly pleasant to work with either.” She snapped back as she took a swig of water from her water bottle.

Her and Chan were on the same team for track racing. Both of them practicing for a big tournament coming up in a few weeks. Their coach forced them to work together. Swearing they were the best runners he had and he wanted them to combine forces. Easier said than done.

“How about you run around this track until you die?” He suggested. Giving her a hard glare.

“And make your life easier? Never.” She said. “Besides, your a bad runner and need all the help you can get.

The words had just left her mouth when a force hit her hard, knocking her to the ground. Air leaving her lungs as Chan hovered over her.

“You’re so annoying.” He growled, his dark eyes holding a fire behind them.

She tried in vain to push him off her, her hands resting on his chest when she was zapped of strength. His body weight pinning her down tight.

“Oh trust me, once we’re done training for this tournament I will ignore you so hard you will start doubting your existence.“

“Careful, you might miss me, love.” Chan whispered.

The minute the words left his mouth he felt his cheeks and ears turn bright red. Prompting him to move off her quickly, the feel of her skin lasting longer than he would like on his own.

She sat up and stared at him for a moment, feeling confused by his sudden actions. But she couldn’t deny the burning feeling in her stomach. She quickly stood up and tried to shrug off the feeling. Hoping it would go away.

Seyoon

It was late in the evening, both parties working late on an upcoming school project. Both of them too stubborn to actually talk and get anything done.

“Seyoon, I am sick of sitting here with you night after night because you won’t work with me.” She sighed, rubbing her throbbing head.

Seyoon glared at her from his place on a nearby stool. “You aren’t exactly easy to work with, honey. Besides, I don’t want to work with you.”

“I don’t want to work with you!” She yelled at him, forgetting her headache. “But we have to otherwise we fail this class and then you know what happens? We get to make up for that lost credit in summer school. And we’ll be stuck together then.”

Seyoon stood from his chair and walked closer to her until their faces were inches apart, “Do not blame this on me.” He sneered, his voice low.

“Or what?” She dared, meeting his gaze.

She let out a yelp when Seyoon grabbed her by the thighs and hoisted her up onto the teachers nearby desk, their eyes level now. He rested his palms on either side of her as he whispered.

“I don’t like being bossed around. So the next time you decide to get smart with me, I will take my aggression out on you.”

“I would like to see you try.” She shot back, leaning closer to him.

Seyoon held her gaze before his eyes wondered down to her mouth, making them both heat up immediately. He quickly pulled away from her as she jumped down off the desk. His grip on her thighs lingering on her skin.

Seyoon clears his throat awkwardly, moving as far away from her as possible. “Let’s just get this over with.” He grumbles, both of them remaining quiet for the rest of the night.

Byeongkwan

To say the two didn’t like each other was an understatement. They loathed each other. Always had since kindergarten. He had been the bratty kid to knock over her sandcastle or her blocks whenever she was playing. Even now, in high school, they couldn’t stand each other. That’s why being in the same room as him now for music practice was awful.

“Could you play a little worse? I don’t think Paris heard you.” He quipped, making her face turn red in anger.

“Funny, I thought the bad playing was coming from you.” She snapped, taking her sheet music to put it away in her back pack.

Byeongkwan stood and stretched out his muscles, trying to ease the tension they felt.

“Don’t you ever get tired of putting makeup on your two faces?” He grumbled.

She gaped at him, her mouth hanging open. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, you act like queen of the ball with everyone else but with me you act like hell on heels.” He snarled, walking over to where she stood by her backpack

“At least I can put makeup on to hide my sin. You’re stuck looking ugly.” She snapped, rolling her eyes at his wit.

She sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers wrapped around her throat lightly, pulling her closer to him while keeping his hold. She stared up at him wide eyed, unsure of his next move.

“Careful, baby.” He whispered darkly. “You don’t want to cross a line with me.”

“This is considered attempted murder, you know that right?” She said, her heart pounding in her ears.

“You’ll wish I had murdered you if I had my way with you.” He answered.

Her eyes grew wide as she watched his eyes dart across her face. She felt his hand shake against her throat before letting her go, heat rushing across her body as his touch lingered.

“You’re still annoying.” He called over his shoulder as he gathered his things and left. Leaving her alone with her swirling thoughts.

Donghun

The pair glared at each other form across the room. Arms folded over their chest as they avoided talking. Both in the same boat. They sat in detention after school, both getting in trouble for getting in a fight during lunch earlier that day. Resulting in them knocking over the principal and a few other teachers.

“I would have won that fight had you not been so clumsy.” Donghun decides to say, making her sigh out in frustration.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure. You and you’re ego.” She mutters. Not bothering to hide the clipped tone in her voice.

Donghun narrows his eyes at her, his gaze piercing. “We’re stuck in here together because of you.”

She whips her head around to meet his gaze, immediately angered. “You started it!” She yelled.

“I wouldn’t have had you just gone and sat somewhere else.” He yelled back, slowly rising from his chair.

She growled and rose from her chair, going to stand closer to him as she said her next words, “You are the most frustrating person I have ever met.

“Same goes for you, princess.” He snaps.

“Don’t you start that.” She warns, feeling a fresh surge of anger go through her.

“That’s right, you don’t like being called that.” Donghun says with a smirk, “Too bad. If it makes you mad I’ll keep calling you it.”

“Oh, should we start something for you? How about how every girl here ogles over you thinking you’re Prince Charming when really you’re self centered and arrogant.”

Donghun narrowed his eyes at her when he, without thinking, took her jaw in his hand, keeping her from talking but also keeping her looking at him. His warm breath fanning across her face.

“Shut up.” He sneers. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. They don’t matter to me like-“

He stops, his eyes once fiery now softening as he gazes down at her. Her skin warming his as he held her there in front of him. He lets go of her, quickly standing away and going to sit down in a chair at the opposite side of the room.

“Like what?” She presses, her voice softened.

“Just forget it.” Donghun snaps, looking out the window to ignore her for their remaining time there.

#acewriters #a.c.e #ace #ace scenarios #ace x reader #a.c.e donghun #a.c.e jun #a.c.e byeongkwan #a.c.e sehyoon #a.c.e chan #ace imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction #kpopmadness writings #ju admin

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Hold Still (Biadore) - Tanawrites

Summary - part of the Summer Lovin’ challenge for the prompt bathing suit. What might have happened if Bianca and Adore were paired up for the swimsuit challenge in season 6.

A/N - I’ve just done another rewatch of my absolute fav season of Drag Race (thanks corona for all the spare time I’ve had) and I’m just honestly obsessed with these two. I couldn’t help but be inspired by some of my favourite of their moments and the idea of them being friends early on!

“I want you to pair up with a queen who was not in your original group."

Now it made sense to Roy the way the production team had carefully arranged them in the workroom that morning. A glance to either side of him was enough to confirm, the lineup was alternating the queens from the two groups and from the expecting grin on RuPaul’s face, it was intended to throw them off.

Some of the pairings made sounds of approval, a few air kisses exchanged and the clasp of hands.

He turned to his right and came face-to-face with one of the younger queens. Not his first choice but it wasn’t really Danny’s fault in particular. Roy was bound to be doubtful of any of the queens he hadn’t worked with yet - it was in his nature to question everybody until he saw for himself what they could do. Especially when his success was relying partly on them as well.

Responding to Danny’s exaggerated look of hesitancy as he stepped closer to affirm them as a team, Roy sideyed Danny. He looked him up and down once before turning back to listen to their rest of their instructions, figuring that would be enough for the cameras. He just hoped it would be used as a foreshadowing in the edit because their unlikely pairing had won them the challenge rather than the alternative.

“…combine bodies to create one lip syncing, bikini wearing bathing beauty.”

Despite Roy’s uncertainty about his partner, he was amused by the challenge. It sure as hell beat trying to look sexy with feathers stuck to Bianca’s lipstick. At least he could bring humour into this.

“Go!”

Once the initial rush of twelve grown men shoving and grabbing for their choice of swimwear, which was about as pleasant as it sounded, Roy took his findings back to his station.

He’d managed to snag a one-piece bathing suit and a sheer cover-up - neither of which he would have had in the suitcases he’d packed, hardly something Bianca would ever perform in. After rifling through one of his bags, he pulled out a floppy hat and large flower that he could pin on his front to hide the fact that he wouldn’t have time to fashion Bianca’s usual chest.

Quick drag was never something he chose to do - not when he painted Bianca’s face the way he did or with how precise he liked his drag to be. Always tucked neat and tightly, Bianca’s curves cinched and padded to the now familiar figure, never a hair out of place or signature bold makeup smudged.

Before he got started on the transition into Bianca, his eyes sought out another’s from across the room. Once Danny met his gaze, Roy tilted his head slightly in invitation.

“So just based on first impressions, you don’t exactly strike me as a top, queen.”

Before his words could leave a sting, Roy was continuing, gesturing to Danny as he spoke now that he was standing in front of him.

“Plus, we can do a lot more with those legs than my stumps. Work for you?”

Danny nodded, seemingly either too startled or intimidated by Roy’s unquestionable authority to verbally respond. It wasn’t personal, nor intended to be rude on Roy’s behalf. He was used to a time crunch, not usually as pressing as this one but he was a hit the ground running kind of person to begin with.

It seemed though that Danny wasn’t totally acting for the cameras earlier if his current apprehension was anything to go off. Roy wasn’t heartless though, no one should be scared of him, so he dropped his voice a little and relaxed his position from where he had tensed from the urgency of the challenge.

“Great, do what you need to do and meet me back here so we can plan something out? It’s going to take the rest of these bitches that long just to get made up.”

“Party.”

Settling for a roll of his eyes and stubbornly denying the small tug at the corners of his lips at the response, Roy got to work as Danny left his station grinning. It was easier to work together if Danny wasn’t too busy tiptoeing around him, Roy told himself.

Just as Bianca pulled her bangs into the right position and secured them with a pin, Adore was sidling up to her chair, steeled with a new confidence.

“So, I have an idea.”

After Danny’s initial panic about working with Roy, the queen already having a reputation for reading their fellow competitors to filth, there came the panic of the challenge.

Adore barely tucked on a good day, let alone well enough to have her crotch on full display.

It was a partner challenge though and after Roy had taken the reins on their team, Danny knew there were expectations for him to meet for someone other than himself now. He only partially understood the reputation proceeding Bianca. She was sharp-tongued there was no doubt about it but who could blame a bitch for being blunt?

He’d approached Roy at Bianca’s station with a hint of hesitancy but walked away optimistic. More importantly, he walked away with a clear head.

Known for being eccentric and impulsive in his behaviour, Danny found it hard to stay focused. Determined, yes but organising all his creative thoughts was something he struggled with. Roy’s assertiveness had allowed Danny to direct his attention without any of the struggle.

Sharing a grin with Laganja in their shared work space, he ignored the way Laganja was trying to catch his gaze. It would no doubt be about his pairing, Laganja whispering in Adore’s ear just yesterday about how scary Bianca seemed after the warning snapped at Gia almost as soon as they’d met. Danny didn’t have the time right now though, almost able to hear seconds ticking away from them before they had to be ready.

Never one to be shy, Danny dropped his pants and reached for his rarely used tape and got to work. He could hear everyone else working in a fluster around him and usually, he would be the kind to be poking his head around and cracking jokes. It was their first challenge as a full group and he wanted to make an impression on Ru and the other queens.

Once he was tucked, tighter than he had been in a long time, he reached for the swimsuit. Danny had grabbed a bright matching bikini and pulled on the bottoms, making sure he looked as flat as he could down there. After a moment of hesitation, he grinned and put the top on as well, covering his flat chest and tugging a crop top on over the top. It wasn’t like anybody was going to see his top half during the challenge but it was very on brand for Adore.

Grateful he’d recently shaved his legs and painted his toes, he slipped his feet into strappy heels that he had to lace a little up his calves. It didn’t totally make sense for a beach but after a glance over at Bianca and her outfit, he decided it matched enough for what he had in mind for their performance.

Grabbing a heart shaped pair of glasses that were left on the table of offerings, Adore grinned and continued on to Bianca’s work space.

“So I have an idea.” She held out the glasses. “And I thought these might save you some time.”

Standing next to Adore as they waited for their turn, Bianca laughed at Courtney and Laganja’s rehearsed joke. Once they were motioned for their tone, she took the towels from a member of the pit crew and led their way into the sandpit.

She let Adore lay down first, watching as she shifted around in discomfort. She was expecting it though, having watched a few more pairs go before them.

“Here.” She folded up one of the towels and handed it over to Adore who looked cluelessly up at her. “Use it as a pillow, fuck getting sand in your ass and your hair.”

Once Adore laid back seemingly more comfortably, Bianca moved into position but glanced back before she lowered herself to sit on Adore’s stomach.

“Alright back there?”

“I’m good.”

Bianca nodded and lowered onto her knees, supporting her weight entirely on her legs with her legs spread as wide as she could so Adore had enough room for movement.

“Still good?”

She watched Adore hesitate for a moment before shuffling down a little more and reaching for Bianca’s hips, assuring her hands would be out of the sight for those looking front on.

“For leverage, so I can move my body.”

Adore’s explanation was drawn out in a tone Bianca couldn’t quite put her finger on who it was an impression of but she chuckled nonetheless before taking it as confirmation that they were ready and she could settle the rest of the towels around them. Once she was satisfied they were fitting the illusion, she was nodding that they were ready to start the song.

“And the winners of the mini challenge are…Adore and Bianca!”

Bianca let Adore press against her side for their victory shot, her arm raising to wrap around Adore’s shoulders for a quick squeeze as they shared an equally surprised and pleased look.

Their win had come slightly as a shock. They had done well but after watching Courtney’s facial expressions and the man-handling of Laganja’s legs which was hilarious, Bianca’s confidence in her own pairing had lessened. Apparently Bianca’s comedic take on Adore’s burlesque style show with her legs had bumped them over though and she certainly wasn’t complaining.

She wasn’t expecting Adore to return to her station so quickly or with specific ideas for their lip sync. The sunglasses had been a save as well, allowing them an extra five minutes of planning out their performance which was another tick for Adore in Bianca’s mental checklist. Overall, she had been impressed.

Their victory didn’t last long though because soon enough they were separated and picking queens for teams to work against one another as captains for the maxi challenge.

“So would you pick from the other team to work with?”

“Bianca.”

Adore didn’t have to think twice before answering the question directed to her once they were in the untucked lounge. She hadn’t gone well in the filming challenge, far too in her own head to concentrate on her lines. She’d bombed the runway as well, getting more critiques than compliments on her look. It had shaken her confidence and she was embarrassed, especially after winning the mini challenge with Bianca earlier that day.

Working with Bianca was a stark contrast than how the group challenge had gone. Having to follow a script had limited Adore’s creative ability and she felt stifled in her group, relying on all of them and none of them all at once.

She had no qualms about repeating her answer when the rest of the group joined them as well, asking what they’d missed out on.

“DeLa asked me who I’d want to work with from the other queens and I said you.”

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

Said with no bite, Adore laughed around her cocktail at Bianca’s response. Most of the other queens looked surprised but Courtney laughed as well, clearly seeing through Bianca’s tone or simply enjoying it enough that she didn’t care if it was said in jest or not.

Adore hadn’t been in good spirits since the runway, trapped in her own thoughts that were desperately battling against the voices in her head that were repeating the judges critiques, her own saying that she wasn’t good enough, the other queens from her group saying her leadership landed in the bottom. The rest of the group, Bianca especially who always seemed to radiate an authority over the room, was a welcome distraction.

“Like yeah she’s a bitch but she’s helpful as well. We killed the rest of you in the mini challenge and even though we’re both really big personalities and I thought we’d clash, it ended up working for us.”

Adore shrugged but she caught the rare smile Bianca sent her way before her expression changed, guarded again against the rest of their competitors.

“I’d choose Adore too if we had to pick someone to work with again.” Bianca pursed her lips before continuing. “I’d make out with her over Courtney again any day.”

After the expected returning quip from Courtney, the conversation shifted and Adore was grateful to take a backseat from the centre of attention. It was the first real challenge, against all the girls and she had disappointed herself. Her mind was racing again, self doubt rising up and forming a lump in her throat.

She had tuned out of the conversation so much so that only the couch dipping beside her as the rest of the queens stood up around her broke her from her thoughts. She mumbled a distracted ‘thanks’ to who was holding the curtain back for everyone before her but faltered when a black nailed hand curled around her arm and pulled her to a stop.

Face to face with Bianca, Adore swallowed thickly and let a small grin curl her lips.

“You trying to make out with me now? Because I don’t really think we have time.”

She was pleased to hear Bianca laugh as Adore referenced her earlier joke, quieter than her usual cackles but it felt even more genuine somehow.

“I just wanted to say not to take it too hard, kid.”

Adore considered arguing back, holding up a stronger front against someone who was supposed to be her competition. Someone who was her biggest competition especially.

It didn’t seem to be worth it though, not when Bianca had already seen straight through her. Not when Adore felt Bianca’s gaze on the side of her face rather than the screen as they watched their teams movies and her jaw was tight as she tried to shield how embarrassed she was on the runway.

“I…thanks Bianca.”

“Come on, let’s go see what these queens pull out their asses. Think Vivacious will attempt a death drop?”

Adore’s laughter followed them down the hallway, Bianca’s arm around her shoulders and her own around Bianca’s slim waist as they walked together and Adore felt lucky. Lucky that she seemed to have a friend, other than Laganja who seemed off and unrecognisable, and lucky that she had seemingly evaded Hurricane Bianca, for whatever reason Adore didn’t dare to question.

#rpdr fanfiction #bianca del rio #adore delano #biadore #wthd challenge #fluff #canon compliant #canon divergent #tanawrites #concrit welcome

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starlight-writes-stuff · 4 years ago

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‘light me up’ chapter three : haribos

a/n : ayo 😎here’s chapter three of ‘light me up’ (3.5 k wc) ! again , another chapter that i’m super proud of , so pls dont hesitate to tell me what you think . also , i got a request (requests are always open !!) to do an nsfw alphabet for draco - these take a while to write , so there might be a slight delay before chapter four . okay , love yall , xoxoxox starlight

reblogs are always appreciated ! <3

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The common room was buzzing with noise and laughter as you pushed the heavy door open; everyone seemed to be looking forward to tomorrow's Quidditch match. The Gryffindor v. Slytherin matches were always especially intense.

You didn't know how to feel about the game. It's not like you were a part of the team, really- you were just a backup. You also knew that you were going to have to see Draco again, and you needed to shut down any and all emotion that came with that. Everything was even more complicated now that you’d seen Cedric again; you knew you should feel something. Some sort of sadness, or anger, or even relief. However, it seemed as if you’d sealed yourself off almost too perfectly; you couldn't feel a thing as you strolled over to your friends.

“How did that go?” Belle asked in a sweet, sympathetic voice. She pinched Rose’s arm as well, grabbing her attention.

You and Rose had been friends since early on in year 2, when she’d accidentally spilled her pumpkin juice on you. It had been a fast friendship from there; she was quick witted and sharp tongued and brutally honest, but a fiercely loyal friend. The three of you, Belle, Rose, and yourself had become an unbreakable trio since the, one rarely found without the others.

“It went alright. Cedric was really excited to hear that I made it on the team, though. You know, it was because of him that I even tried out.”

“I’m sure that made his day. He’s still proud of you, even if you aren't together. He’s a good guy, you know.” Rose said, blowing a piece of hair out of her eye. She’d cut her own bangs as the result of a bet a couple months ago- they looked great on her, like everything else did- but she complained about them constantly.

“Of course I know that. He still wants to try and be friends, and I think we’ll be able to. We were friends before we dated, anyway.” You forced a smile, knowing that you were lying.

Belle sneakily took something out of her bag and her hand up to her lips, raising an eyebrow at you. Rose took something out of the plastic package, then tilted the top of the bag in your direction. Inside were a bag of gummies, but not ones that you recognised.

“What are these?” you asked her in a low voice, snaking your hand in the bag. Belle always seemed to have contraband foods. You took a couple of gummies out as she answered you, popping them in your mouth.

“I bring them from home. When I’m homesick, the taste takes me back for a bit,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Belle was muggle born on both sides, and loved her parents more than anything on the earth. Her mum, Linda, was a hairstylist, and her father, Alexander, was a chef for a fancy muggle restaurant. They were both completely supportive of their daughter, even if they didn’t quite understand who she was. Every year, before Belle came back to Hogwarts, her parents helped her pack up a trunk full of snacks from home. They were the ones who sent you and Rose christmas parcels, and had fought Dumbldore tooth and nail to let you stay with them over the holidays. The Brightstones were a kind family.

“They’re Haribos,” she said, watching you chew. They were good, fruity and chewy and sweet. You learned quickly that you were partial to the red ones, and found your hand making it’s way back to the satchel of bear-shaped candy.

“Why are you feeling homesick?” you asked, remembering her earlier statement. Belle wasn’t anything like you in the way of not sharing her emotions- you’d once seen her having a deep heart-to-heart with one of the many paintings that lined the halls of Hogwarts. She was open and honest and vulnerable all the time, and wasn’t scared of her feelings; Belle always said that they made her stronger. You admired this about her, and you both knew it was one of the many reasons that you complimented each other so well.

Belle lowered her eyes to her lap, and a sad look took over her pretty face. “I don’t know. Sometimes I’ll smell a smell, and it takes me back to sitting at my dinner table, my dad bringing some dish out from the kitchen with a bright smile on his face. Or I see Rose’s braids, and it reminds me of my mum doing my hair the day we leave, before the train arrives. I just miss them a lot.”

You pulled her into your arms, running a hand down the length of her strawberry hair. “I’m sorry you’re missing home. I know it’s hard when you don’t have anything here to remind you of them, either. Have you been writing letters?”

“Yes. Mum tries to write at least once a week, but it’s not the same. It feels like Christmas is so far away,” she said, slumping into your shoulder.

“It’s not too far. It’s what, October? Only a month and a half. Plus, you have me, and Y/N. And Ron,” Rose said, poking her side. Belle’s cheeks pinked, and her frown twisted into a grin.

Ron and Belle had only been talking for a couple of weeks, but they were completely infatuated with each other. He walked her from class to class, and she snuck him her muggle sweets in the halls. They made each other happy, and you could tell she was feeling a little better just at the mention of his name. She had the sparkle in her eye that came with talking about him.

“He was really sweet, you know. He said he could tell that something was wrong, and he didn’t want me to be sad. He held my hand for the first time today.”

“Did he? That’s adorable.” You said, voice coming out only slightly monotone. You wanted to be happy for Belle- you wanted to let her talk all night and hope some of her joy rub off to you.

She nodded, and flushed even darker, blood pooling in her cheeks. “All day, in between every class, and after dinner. I can’t wait to see him play tomorrow,” she mused, her tone dreamy.

“I’m sure. I like the two of you together. He treats you almost as good as I do.”

You continued to talk with your group of friends until the fire was starting to dwindle, and everyone was yawning. From across the common room, you could hear Draco and his friends laughing about something, your heart picking up at the sound of his voice. This threw you; you’d felt nothing for the past few hours. You’d locked everything down. So what the hell was that? You berated yourself, smashing that little shard of hope into a million shiny pieces. You weren’t letting this happen. As Rose and Belle started to pack their things, you considered talking to them- telling them that you were doing it again. You zoned out completely, remembering what had happened last time.

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The last time this had happened was around six months into you and Cedric dating. The two of you had gotten into a brutal argument and hadn’t talked in days. Usually, things like that wouldn't have affected you- you’d just flip the switch and turn off your feelings. You couldn't do that this time, though. It was your fault that the two of you were fighting in the first place, and you knew it.

When Cedric had asked you about your plans for the holidays, you’d shut down almost immediately. For some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to tell him that you’d be staying here, far away from your family. He’d called you on your shit, though, telling you that you were blocking him out. You knew that you were, and you knew that it hurt him when you did. However, your family was the one thing that you refused to talk to anyone about. You kept it under lock and key, inside a safe, inside a storage unit in your brain; one that you’d long forgotten the keycode to. Family was an off limits topic.

The two of you had just let the fight escalate until you were standing in the courtyard furiously whispering back and forth while snow fell gently on your heads. You accused Cedric of pushing you too far, and he retorted with the fact that you were putting your walls up. You thought multiple times about stopping; apologizing for the snipes you’d been taking at him and explaining why you didn’t want to talk about it. But that meant being vulnerable, and you weren’t going to do that.

Of course, the minute that Cedric had left for home, you wished that you had. He was leaving for two weeks with the two of you on bad terms- you hadn’t spoken to each other in days besides the terse ‘goodbye’ you'd exchanged just before the Hogwarts Express had pulled away. You knew that you had two options: you could feel awful for the entirety of winter break, even worse than you usually did around Christmas, or you could just… choose not to feel it. Choose to not feel anything at all, really. The choice hadn’t been hard.

It hadn’t lasted long, though. Rose had noticed the way you were acting on day one; how your laugh seemed to be hollow, lost somewhere in the back of your throat. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen you like this, and it wouldn’t be the last. Both of your friends suspected that your knack for dissociating from your emotions had to do with why you wouldn’t talk about your home situation. They were right, of course, buy you’d never tell them that. That would involve an explanation; you knew the minute you started to tell them what exactly was wrong with you, all your coping systems, the walls you had so carefully built to lock your feelings away would crumble and you would break completely.

Rose had let you be until day 3 of break, when she’d shaken you awake just as the sun had started to come up. You’d reached out, blindly smacking whatever you could make contact with, but Rose was hellbent on waking you up. Once she’d wrestled you out of your pajamas and into the massive jumper that Belle’s parents had sent for Christmas you had grabbed one of her shoulders, stilling the short haired girl’s rapid movements.

“Rose, what are we doing?”

She shook her head and opened her trunk, pulling out a smaller purse that she’d brought from home. She opened the leather bag, checking for something, and did a happy wiggle as she found whatever it was. “Don't worry about it. Put some shoes on.”

An hour later, the two of you were tucked in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, warming your hands around ceramic mugs. Rose had gone to the Weasley twins last night, and somehow managed to bargain her way into having Fred sneak the two of you into Hogsmeade. Rose had already ordered lunch for the two of you when she had nudged you with her knee, catching your attention.

“What's going on, Y/NN?”

You knew that Rose bringing you here wasn’t a coincidence, or some sort of Christmas cheer. You’d just hoped that she wouldn’t bring up the elephant in the room. Rose didn’t do that, though. She was a blunt, point blank kind of girl, and she always had been. Even though it came from a place of love, Rose could be sharper than she meant to be. However, when she asked you what was wrong, her voice was soft and sympathetic.

“I really don't want to talk about this,” you explained, your voice tightly measured. “Okay? Lets just have a good time.”

Rose seemed to consider this for a minute, then slowly shook her head. “No. You’re letting go again, and I need you here- Belle and I both need you here.”

The statement tore through you- the raw pain in her voice was palpable and seemed to become a presence of its own in the small upholstered booth. You took a deep breath, trying to remain unscathed, but all was lost when a single tear dropped from the corner of Rose’s eye. She took a beat to wipe the small drop away and compose her thoughts before she spoke again.

“I understand hard things, Y/NN. I know that sometimes running away is the easiest option- trust me. But you can’t keep doing this. Not to yourself, not to me and Belle, not to Cedric. We love you more than anything; you need to learn to accept that love. You can’t keep pushing us away.”

You and Rose had sat in that small booth in the back for hours as you’d explained to her what had happened with Cedric, how you didn’t know if you could fix it. She’d listened as you put into words how scared you were of your own emotions- how they made you weak, and afraid, and exposed to the world. Rose had held you as you’d cried for the first time in years, purging all the fear and pain and hesitation from your system; she’d inadvertently forced you to start feeling.

When Cedric returned around a week later, you'd practically pounced on him as he exited the train. You’d wrapped him up in your arms, murmuring in his ear how sorry you were. He was taken aback but overjoyed by this- it was the best welcome home you could’ve given. The two of you had spent the night together for the first time that night, and he’d kissed you until your lips were sore. You’d allowed yourself to feel every bit of it.

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You zoned back in as Rose pinched your arm, hard. Both her and Belle wore confused, concerned expressions on their faces.

“What? Sorry. I was… spaced out. What’s up?”

The two girls looked at each other, then back at you. You knew that you’d chosen the worst time to lose yourself in your thoughts- they were both already worried. Finally, Belle gave you a small frown. “We’re going up to bed. Are you coming?”

The look on her face told you exactly what would happen if you followed the two girls upstairs- you’d be questioned, and you didn’t have the energy or mental capacity to lie. If you stayed down in the Common Room until they fell asleep, you wouldn't have to. In a split second decision, you shook your head.

“I’m not tired yet. And I need to do my Dark Arts homework, anyway.” You tried your best to give them a convincing smile, but it didn't work. Both girls were obviously disappointed as they grabbed their things and took the stairs up and away from you. As you opened the thick textbook, you tried to tell yourself that you weren’t responsible for your friends emotions, that you were just doing what you needed to do for school. You were lying to yourself, but at least it was comforting.

You were halfway through your Dark Arts assignment when you heard footsteps coming up behind you. You figured it was Belle; she’d left one of her books lying on the table when she went to bed, and was likely coming to collect it. However, when you turned around, it was not Belle, or Rose, or anyone you would expect to come up and talk to you.

You were met with a swish of platinum blonde hair and a pretty, pale skinned boy. You felt your cheeks heat up, and prayed it was too dark for Draco to notice as he hopped over the back of the couch you were sitting on, landing next to you.

“Hi.” he said, looking slightly embarrassed. “I was going to come talk to you earlier, but you were with your friends. I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“Oh. Hey,” you said, digging your nails into your palms. Draco was making it awfully hard for you to keep yourself in check. “What’s up?”

“Well, I just wanted to talk to you about tomorrow. Since it’s your first game on the team, and all.”

You were simultaneously relieved and disappointed as the words left his mouth, and you carved your nails into your hand even harder. Of course he came to talk to you about Quidditch- what else would the two of you have to talk about? You would extinguish this flame you’d somehow developed for him, even if it meant you had to let people down in the process.

“Yeah, I was wondering how that goes. I know that I won’t play or anything, but-”

Draco cut you off with a small laugh, and ran a hand through his hair, making it flop over his forehead. “It’s okay. That’s why I came over here- you don’t have to be nervous,” he explained, trying to ease you a bit. “It works a little differently for our back up players. You guys are welcome to sit in the stands, but you can also sit along the field, in case you’re needed quickly. Plus, you don’t have a uniform yet, so you can just wear whatever.”

You nodded at him, and took a handful of gummy candy. Belle had given you the remnants of the bag before you’d made her mad- she had plenty stashed away somewhere in the dormitories. You brought a hand up to your mouth and started to chew on the gummies, listening to Draco’s speech. It helped a bit; you could focus on the taste of the sweets, chewing and swallowing. You didn’t have to focus on him.

“Hey, what are those?” he asked, turning his head to the side to read the bag.

You chewed quickly, and picked the bag up. “Belle gave them to me. They’re a muggle candy. Haribos.” As much as you wanted to keep to yourself, you also didn’t want to be rude to the boy. There was a fine balance between not allowing any feelings to permeate and being plain mean. You tilted the opening of the bag toward him hesitantly.

Draco looked slightly unnerved, but picked a couple out of the bag and threw them into his mouth. “Oh, wow,” he said, mouth full of candy, “those are good.”

The two of you talked about your new role for a little while longer, before Draco grinned at you, tipping more candy into his hand. “Are you excited for tomorrow?”

You didn’t know, but that didn’t seem like the right answer. “Yeah, of course.”

“It's going to be a good one,” Draco said, an evil smile painting his mouth. You tilted your head, and Draco started to explain.

“It’s no secret that Potter and I don't exactly get along” he mused, and his hatred for the boy was apparent just by the tone of Draco’s voice. “Anyway. Him and his mate Ron thought that it would be cute to play a little joke on me. It’s no big deal, though. I plan on driving him into the ground, as I always do.”

You swallowed hard, the look on his face sending shivers down your spine. All of a sudden, he looked like the dark, snarky asshole everyone painted him to be. This other side of him was oddly attractive.

“I’m sure that’ll be a sight,” you said, your voice coming out a little higher than usual.

“It usually is,” he said, a sly smirk on his lips. “You’ll be watching me, right?”

You felt yourself flush bright pink at the arch of his eyebrow, and when it became clear that Draco was waiting on an answer you nodded quickly. This seemed to please him, and you bit at the inside of your cheek. Clearly, trying to kill the flame that Draco had lit low in your belly wasn’t working in the slightest. You took a brief moment to wonder what would happen if you let it consume you, if you allowed yourself to go up in white-hot flames with him. But then you remembered the way you felt sitting in the Astronomy Tower, and you severed the thought in two. You’d rather go explain what was going on with you to Rose and Belle than to stay here, to let any sort of relationship start to bud.

Quickly, you flipped the conversation on its head- you weren’t doing this. You needed control, and you needed it now. “Shouldn’t you be going to bed, Draco? You need sleep if you want to beat Potter.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, you grabbed your bag from the floor and shouldered it, giving Draco one last look. The boy looked lost, but incredibly intrigued. Like he was trying to figure you out. Little did he know that no one had ever solved your puzzles, and no one ever would.

“I’ll see you later, Malfoy.”

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writethehousedown · 4 years ago

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Hold Still (Biadore) - tanawrites