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dragonologist-in-the-making · 3 years

Text

Paper Rings

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Summary: On his first ride to Hogwarts, James befriended the girl who was obsessed with shiny things. Over their schooling together, their friendship turned into so much more.

A/N: lmao I suck at summaries. Also I’m back sorry for the random hiatus (and sorry that posting will almost definitely not be consistent after this either). I had this idea months ago, inspired by Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings, and I only just got around to writing it asdfghjkl. Still obsessed with James though rip me I just want someone to love me like this.

Warnings: Mentions of eating (briefly), otherwise just a lot of fluff.

Wordcount: 4k (wow)

...

Little James Potter waved goodbye to his parents as the train took off from the platform, nervous about his first journey to the infamous Hogwarts, but excited to discover all the great things his parents had told him for himself. First though: finding a carriage.

Trying not to show his nerves, he wandered along the corridor, peeping into the carriages to see if there was one he could join. For the most part, he found them all too full, too loud to juggle his nerves, or the students too old and intimidating. The days would come where James would rule the corridors of the castle, but the eleven year old boy on the train was just hoping to make a friend he could share this new adventure with.

As fate would have it, he found just that and so much more. In a carriage to herself sat a young girl, his age, her face turned away from him looking out the window. The only thing he could see was a petite sparkling bow, sitting neatly in her (y/h/c) hair.

Without thinking about it, he knocked gently on the compartment door, sliding it open as she turned to look at him inquisitively. Her (y/e/c) eye’s glittered as her lips pulled into a smile, creating a complete sense of comfort for James to ask. “Do you mind if I sit?” She nodded eagerly, gathering up a few books she had dumped on the opposite seat and dropping them into her lap. “I’m James.” He smiled.

“(y/n). It’s nice to meet you.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a short while, listening to the laughs of older students, friends reuniting after a summer apart, and watching the landscape whip by them out the window.

“I like your bow, by the way.” James spoke up, feeling glad he did when an excited smile broke across her face, looking as if he’d told her she’d won the lottery.

“Thank you! I love the way it sparkles.” She said, gently pulling it from her hair and twisting it in the sunlight, showing how rainbows danced in the glitter and were thrown across their compartment. Satisfied, she used it to clip back the hair that was now falling into her face, and their conversation moved on, following each and every thought they were having, becoming fast friends. James didn’t think the journey could get any better until two boys showed up at their door and asked if they could join them, setting everlasting friendships in stone.

As the train pulled up to Hogwarts, any nervousness James had been feeling was gone. Instead, the only thought he had was that he couldn’t be more glad he sat in the compartment of the girl with the sparkling bow.

…

Their first year passed in a blur, and the Marauders spent the majority of it in each other’s company, laughing their days away.

Now, summer had come and gone, and their second year at Hogwarts was in full swing. They walked into their charms class together, laughing about a joke Sirius had made at James’ expense. (y/n) sat next to the curly-haired boy at their desk, as Remus Sirius and Peter sat at the one adjacent to them.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I didn’t make the team last year! No first year has made a house team in like 80 years! I’m telling you though, I’ll make it on this year, and I’ll be the best chaser this school has ever seen.” James protested, huffing as he put his textbook in the middle of the table for him and (y/n) to share. She laughed at him softly, hand patting his shoulder as the other boys got lost in their own conversation.

“I know you will, Jamie. And I’ll be there cheering you on every step of the way.” His cheeks redenned at her words, but luckily their attention was turned away by Professor Flitwick.

“Now students, the charm I’ll be teaching you today is more of a fun one to start off the year than anything you’ll likely need in your everyday lives. As always, I don’t expect you to create chaos by using these charms” – he turned his gaze to a particular group of students at this point who were all busily looking elsewhere – “but simply to enlighten yourselves and to show you what magic can do. So, the charm we’ll be learning today is how to make things glitter.”

James heard an almost inaudible gasp next to him, and he could feel the excitement radiating off (y/n). He chuckled, expecting nothing less; he’d known her for a year now, and if it wasn’t the bow in her hair there was always something shiny on her at any given time.

Flitwick talked about the details of the charm, how it could be applied subtly, only giving a faint sheen, or how it could be made much more obvious. Finally, he gave them the charm and told everyone to repeat after him. “Now, like I said, just because this is a fun charm doesn’t mean it’s an easy one, and I don’t expect you to get it on your first attempt. Just keep repeating the charm and-oh!” He broke off suddenly, just as James’ vision went hazy. Once he’d focused, he saw he was surrounded by a cloud of individual glitter specs floating around them, almost as if they were in their own galaxy. His gaze shifted to its centre, shining most brilliantly of all as her proud and excited smile dazzled him, making him forget entirely they were still in their charms classroom.

“Well done Miss (y/n)!” Flitwick’s voice broke through their bubble, and slowly each star seemed to fade out of existence, until they were back in their regular old classroom, thirty pairs of eyes trained on them. “You certainly felt the spirit of the charm and went above and beyond. 10 points to (y/h). Now, if you could help Mr Potter whilst we all get back to it!”

Chatter burst out the classroom almost immediately, partners working together trying to enchant an object of theirs to take on the glittery effect. Sirius turned to her, rolling his eyes half-heartedly.

“Becoming a teachers pet now are we, (y/l/n)?” She rolled her eyes back, waving her wand to produce a cloud of glitter that settled in Sirius’ hair, contrasting sharply against its darkness.

“It’s sparklesSirius, what did you expect? Now c’mon, this is the one lesson I won’t let you not do the work in. Make some glittery greatness and I’ll bake you all some cookies when I next steal James’ cloak to go to the kitchens.” With those words, the three boys turned their entire focus to the task at hand, while James still seemed slightly awestruck next to her. “You alright, J?”

“That was amazing (y/n/n). I had no idea you could do that.”

“Well I guess you can’t know until you try.” She shrugged, picking up her quill and placing it in front of him. “Charm my quill.”

“Why me? You could just do it yourself.” James asked, confused why she didn’t do it herself since she was clearly more than capable. Once again, she shrugged, looking into his eyes as she uttered the words so nonchalantly that would stick with him for years to come.

“Well, Flitwick said you needed to practise. Plus, it’ll mean more to me if every time I look at my quill I know that you’re the reason it’s shining.”

Within a heartbeat, James had uttered the incantation and a subtle shimmer had settled over the feather, imperceptible until it was moved and caught the light. The smile he saw when he looked over at (y/n) made him vow to himself that as long as he was around, she would never have an ordinary quill again.

True to his word, every time she brought out a new quill, he was quick to snatch it from her and place the simple charm on it. It became an unspoken promise between the two of them, and every time James saw that sparkle from the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

. . .

True to her word, (y/n) was there for all of James’ games, cheering him on from the side of the pitch, always the first to reach him when the game was over. High or low, win or lose, she was always there to remind him that he had played amazingly, and that she was proud of him.

After one such game in their fourth year, Gryffindor narrowly losing to Slytherin, she was at his side so quickly that he would have thought she had apparated if he knew this wasn’t possible. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, feeling the slight shaking of his shoulders. “Oh, James.” She quickly ushered him off the pitch before he attracted eyes, assuring him that Sirius and Remus would collect his things from the changing room and bring them back to his dorm. Once they reached his dorm, she sent him to shower, promising that she would be there for him once he was back.

Sure enough, he came out of the shower in fresh clothes and damp hair, and she was still on his bed, patiently waiting for him. She held her hand out to him, a silent invitation, and as soon as he took it she pulled him to her side and once again enveloped him in a hug.

“I’m so proud of you, Jamie.” She whispered, squeezing him momentarily before drawing back and looking into his glassy eyes.

“Shouldn’t be.” He murmured, avoiding her gaze. “We lost.”

“And yet you scored more goals than anyone else the entire game.” She pointed out, sincerity lacing her voice. “It’s just because the snitch is worth a stupid amount of points, honestly the game has a lot of flaws.” James smiled weakly, they often had these debates about Quidditch and it always ended in some silly way.

“I did hit Malfoy in the head with a Quaffle.” He admitted, and (y/n) could see the weight falling off his shoulders.

“The highlight of all our years.” She laughed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a little box. “I got you something.” She handed it to him, and he pushed it back to her, head shaking, doubt returned.

“No I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Keep it.”

“We already had this argument and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She shoved the box into his hands and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to open it.

Reluctantly, he pulled the lid off the box to reveal a snitch, the snitch he normally kept on his person at all times, now shining with a slight iridescence. James looked up at her, thankful but a little confused at the present.

“I’ve actually been saving it for when you lose a game. Which has been hard because that’s hardly ever.” She broke off to give him a playful glare along with her words, quickly broken by her soft smile. “I know you play with the snitch when you have a lot on your mind, and when you start to doubt yourself. I wanted to remind you that you’re incredible and you should believe that yourself. So, when you see the snitch and you see it sparkle, you’ll think of me, and you’ll remember how great you are.” He was speechless, and in the silent air, she did what the two of them did best, and started to nervously babble. “Well, that’s assuming you think of me when you see sparkles, and quite frankly after all this time I’d be slightly offended if you didn’t-oof” her rambling stopped when James tackled her into a hug, knocking them both back onto the bed.

“Thank you.” Was all he said, but she could hear the emotion behind each word, everything he was trying to communicate. All she did was hold him tighter.

It was then that Sirius and Remus walked into the dorm, carrying all of James’ equipment from the game, causing James and (y/n) to jump away from each other. Blushes arose on both their faces, not that the other would have noticed, each too busy looking at opposite walls of the dorm. Sirius and Remus exchanged a knowing look, but decided to let it slide, knowing there was an inevitability to it anyway.

…

Once again, (y/n) was boarding the Hogwarts express for another year of school. She knew this year would be a stressful one, with their OWL exams coming up, but she also knew that as long as she had her boys by her side, she would be absolutely fine.

Speaking of her friends, she was currently walking along the train trying to find them. She knew that Lily and Remus were prefects now so they’d be at the front of the train, but she was struggling to find anyone else. Eventually, she found James, sitting in a carriage by himself, absentmindedly watching the view. She chuckled to herself at the situation, the reverse of their meeting all those years ago.

She slid the door open, catching his attention and his ever-so-addictive smile. “Got room for an old pal?” She asked, sitting next to him when he patted the seat, his hand enveloping hers as soon as she had, a silent communication. I missed you.

“I was starting to think you’d gotten cool and forgotten about me.” He joked, nudging her playfully.

“Piss off Potter, I was always cooler than you.” She teased back, glad to see that nothing had changed despite their time apart. It never did, they were always James and (y/n), inseparable no matter how hard anyone tried. “Where is everyone?”

“Lils and Moony are doing prefect duties, and Sirius enlisted Peter’s help to try and sneak into their carriage and get the insider information.” He rolled his eyes light-heartedly, forming air quotes around Sirius’ words as (y/n) laughed, eyes closing in amusement. “What’s that on your eyes?” James suddenly asked, stopping her laughter short as she tried to figure out what he meant.

“Oh!” She remembered. “I went to see Lils in the holidays and she was showing me this glitter eyeliner that muggles wear! Why, do you not like it?” She suddenly felt self-conscious, wondering if it really was too much despite Lily’s reassurances. It was a subtle white, but still, it was glitter on her face.

“The opposite!” James was quick to answer, rushing so much to not hurt her feelings that he wasn’t thinking about what he was saying. “I think you look really beautiful (y/n/n), with or without the makeup. Besides, the glitter brings out your eyes.”

At this point, they were both blushing furiously, and James was still holding her hand, neither of them willing to let go. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile to herself, and remembered to thank Lily for the recommendation the second they were in the dorm together that evening.

…

James climbed the last step into the astronomy tower, seeing (y/n) leaning against the railing already, gazing into the night sky, a blanket and an array of snacks out on the floor behind her.

It was a ritual they’d started who knows when, a chance to wind down and escape the chaos of everyday life, to enjoy each other’s company and to feast away on whatever snacks they had managed to stow away for these evenings. Tonight’s selection looked to consist mostly of cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs, with the occasional sugar quill hidden amongst the rest. “Heavy on the sugar tonight, I see.” He broke the silence teasingly, settling himself so that he was sat at (y/n)’s feet, still able to see the clear night sky above them.

“If I don’t consume my own bodyweight in sugar I think I’ll pass out I’m that exhausted.” She commented back, sinking down next to him. Automatically, his arm wound around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and resting his chin on top of her head. There weren’t words to describe the feeling of pure content as she melted into him, completely at ease.

She reached out and grabbed a chocolate frog, unwrapping it and handing the card to James with a sigh upon seeing it was one already in her collection. She bit into the chocolate, her gaze on the night sky as his was unable to break away from her, the way she settled so peacefully against him.

“The stars sparkle too, you know.” She broke the silence, voice quiet but still holding its signature melodic tone. James finally broke away from looking at her, joining her eyeline and looking at the constellations above them. Even though he wasn’t taking astronomy as a NEWT, spending so much time in the tower with (y/n) as she mapped the sky meant he knew precisely what he was looking at, and traced the constellations with his eyes.

“You know, six years of friendship and I don’t think I ever asked you why you like shiny things so much. I always just accepted it as a part of who you are.” A smile graced her face as she unconsciously twiddled her fingers.

“Don’t laugh.” She warned, and he solemnly shook his head. “I think there’s something so entrancing, so beautiful about them. I think it serves as a reminder that even the most seemingly dull thing,” she picked up another chocolate frog box at this point, waving her wand to create a light sparkle over it, “is wonderfully brilliant if you just remember to look at it in the right way. It’s a lesson we should all carry with us, and I try to remember it whenever I can. Everything is beautiful if you give it a chance.” The sparkles on the box faded in the moonlight, as (y/n) finally looked up at James, only to find him already staring back at her.

Body thinking quicker than brain, seeing her (y/e/c) eyes glimmering up at him, James leant down and pressed his lips to hers. She stifled a gasp, quickly moving her lips back against his as her hand wound gently around the back of his neck. He poured all of his admiration into the kiss, everything he had been feeling for her since he didn’t even know when, feeling his heart soar to be here with her in that moment.

Eventually, they broke away for air, and a breathy laugh fell from (y/n)’s lips, blush rising on her cheeks as she turned her face away. James reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers and gently rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ve been drawn to you since the day I saw you in that train carriage. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, your soul. I didn’t even realise the outside matched until we came back from that summer you spent with Lily. But god, every day since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I like you, (y/n/n). I really like you.”

Around them, a shimmering cloud exploded simultaneous to a wide grin spreading across (y/n)’s face. It was their own galaxy, just like all that time ago in the charms lesson, but she was still in the centre, still giddy with excitement. “I like you too, Jamie.” Her smile turned a little sheepish. “And sorry, I think my emotions got a little out of control.” The star-like sparkles slowly dissipated around them until there was nothing left, and this time it was (y/n) who leaned up to James, connecting their lips one more time.

“You taste like chocolate.”

“I’m sure that must be awful for you, Potter”. Nothing had changed, and yet nothing would be the same either.

…

James was sat on the floor of his dorm, textbooks open in front of him, although this late in the day he was struggling to pay any attention to them. What he was focused on instead was his girlfriend, tucked into the alcove of the windowsill, absentmindedly writing away on a piece of parchment.

Her (y/h/c) hair was in plaits down her back, and in the candlelight the silver threads that James had helped her braid in this morning were casting light across the room that shifted with every little shake of her head or shrug of her shoulders.

“You’re staring again, Jamie.” She chastised, although the humour was clear in her voice. He pushed himself up from the floor with an exaggerated groan, making his way over to her and pulling her gently into his chest, pressing a soft kiss into her hair.

“Can’t help it love, you’re an actual angel.” He didn’t see it but he knew she’d be rolling her eyes as she buried her face in his chest to hide the blush that was forming on her cheeks.

“Stop being so cheesy.”

“As if you don’t love it.” She pressed a kiss into his chest, resting her head against him as she went back to her writing. He tried not to pry, but he couldn’t help but catch notice of his name and his interest piqued. “Who are you writing to?”

“Euphemia.” She replied nonchalantly, not pausing her actions as he took a step away, face scrunched in confusion.

“My mother?” she paused at this, looking up at him with false exasperation.

“Do you know many other Euphemias?” She deadpanned. He shrugged, admitting her fair point, moving back to her side where she immediately snuggled back into his warmth.

“How long have you been writing to my mum?” She paused for a second, contemplating.

“Since the start of term I think. She sent an owl, I responded, we haven’t really stopped talking since. Oh, I’m coming over for Christmas by the way, she invited me. Said it wouldn’t be Christmas without the whole family there” (y/n) looked up at him, flashing a mischievous grin, expecting him to whine childishly like he normally would, complaining that he was supposed to ask her. Instead, looking more solemn than she’d seen him in a long time, he crushed her against him, holding her so tightly before he leant down and connected their lips. The kiss was bruising, but it was packed with adoration, and it left (y/n) slightly breathless. He broke away, leaning his forehead against hers as she tried to catch her breath back. “What was that for?”

“I love you. So much. You’re absolutely perfect, and I swear, I can’t wait until the day I can put a ring on that finger and make it official, make you a Potter for real. I promise, it’s going to be the most sparkling, dazzling gem you’ve ever seen. It’ll shine just as brightly as you, and it’ll always remind you that you’re beautiful, in every way, and just how much I love you.” Her hand had come to rest on his cheek, smiling throughout his little speech, parchment cast aside and forgotten about at this point.

“Don’t be silly, James.” She laughed, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “I love shiny things, yes, but I don’t need one to be reminded of how amazing you are, or how much I love you. Hell, you could ask me to marry you with a paper ring and I’d still say yes in a heartbeat. I’m saying yes to you, to a life. You don’t need to win me over with some ridiculously expensive piece of jewellery.” He nodded slightly, pecking her lips before moving back to where he had been sat on the floor.

(y/n) picked her parchment back up, continuing on to the letter she had been writing to Euphemia Potter, unable to help themselves from planning the Christmas festivities despite it being early November.

Deep in concentration, she startled slightly as she noticed movement coming from the corner of her eye. She looked to the side to see her boyfriend once again, although this time he was knelt before her, holding up a piece of parchment that he had hastily fashioned into a ring, coupled with a sheepish smile.

Laughing merrily, she hopped down from the windowsill, pulling him up by his jumper and kissing him passionately as she slid the piece of paper onto her finger, looking forward to the day when they were older, when they could promise this for real, knowing that they had the rest of their lives ahead of them to love each other unconditionally.

When James first stepped on that Hogwarts train, he was hoping to find a friend he could share every moment with for the next seven years. He had found that in her, a best friend, now a lover, for seven years but for so much longer. The girl with the sparkling bow turned out to be his soulmate, and he sent a prayer of thanks to the stars every day.

#harry potter #harry potter fic #james potter #james #potter #james potter fic #james potter fanfic #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #prongs #prongs x reader #marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #james potter x you

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stiltonbasket · 3 years

Text

how my love springs deep

by stiltonbasket

(read here on AO3!)

Summary:

My Lan Zhan, his husband calls him. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan.

Or, the one where Wei Wuxian feeds rabbits, and Lan Wangji reads a love letter.

(brief a/n: this fic was inspired by this heartbreaking work of beauty by @pakhnokh--I had to write Lan Wangji getting adored after witnessing it, come join me on the angst parade T~T)

____

My Lan Zhan,

It has been two years and more since I last wrote you a letter, for marriage has joined us both at the hip, and ensured that we are never more than a touch or a cry away from one another. I have you by me always, in every hour of every day; and every love-word that crosses my mind finds its way to my lips in the very moment of its birth, and reaches your ears just as quickly, for I could no more keep silent in my devotion to you than swim the full length of the Songhuajiang against the current. And so I go about my days hence, calling “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, my Lan Zhan” all the while: but today I have woken before chenshi, and you are still asleep beside me with Xiao-Yu in your arms, and though my every nerve and vein is aching for love of my husband, I cannot bear to wake you to say so.

Lan Zhan, sweetheart—when we were first married, you told me once that I colored the world for you the instant we met, and brought every shade of the rainbow with me from Yunmeng to make the Cloud Recesses beautiful. You said that the air that touched me at the gate smelt as if lightning had passed through it, and that the very stones I knelt on in the lanshi’s courtyard began to glitter after I departed, though they had never done such a thing before—and that the Cloud Recesses itself, having been a place of peace and reflection before my arrival, was filled with delight and warmth after my coming, as if that first day was the dawn after a long, long night, and I the sun who gifted it to you.

Heaven knows I had no equal words with which to worship you then, my darling, for I was young and still bewildered to know that you loved me. But I have been your husband for nearly three years now, and so I must tell you this—you have driven me mad for love of you, Lan Zhan, and it has been so since we first crossed swords on the rooftop gate when we were eighteen.

How mad, you ask? The classics say that love is a proper, courtly thing, to be shown with modesty before others and in its full force only in confidence. But I have never been proper, and so I must tell you that if you were a flint and steel, seeking only to light a flame and a tinder-heap to light it in, I would take form as a sun-parched forest, and set myself afire at your touch so that I might be beside you thus. If you were a god, roaming the heavenly kingdoms while my mortal flesh kept me constrained below, I would take the habit of a priest and devote myself to your prayer; and if you were a grain of sand in the Gebi desert, and I a traveler sick with thirst, I would fall to my knees and sift through every dune and basin to find you before drinking even a drop of water.

If I were freezing in the great mountains above Gusu, whose peaks are lush in the springtime but shrouded in snow in the winter, I would be well and happy if I had the warmth of your hand in mine; and when I am in my jishi, with the doors thrown open to let in the wind, I drop my knives and tools at the sound of your voice and stand there enraptured until you fall silent again. My heart nearly beats out of my body with everything you say, and everything you do; and when you look at me I lose all knowledge of speech and reason, recalling nothing but your name and your smiles unless some show of wit is necessary—which it very well might be, with you and I being what we are, and all our doings riddled with puzzles that would have bewildered even the scholars who founded our clan.

Lan Zhan, I love you so desperately that to be away from you is torment, and to be with you has always been paradise, even when you were sitting on one side of the library pavilion and reading Lan An’s poetry, and I was on the other with my brush and parchment, pretending to copy lines while I sketched a portrait of you and painted flowers into your hair. You have made me more your own with every passing day, though in every moment I fully belong to you, and there is no strangeness in it—as if new pieces of my spirit are formed shichen by shichen, and bound unto you before drawing their first breaths.

I could go on endlessly, xingan, and exhaust even the lanshi’s stocks of paper in my adoration—but it will soon be breakfast time, and the hens have not been fed, nor the eggs collected, and neither have the rabbits been given their greens. I must go and tend to them now; only wait for me, and I will be back at your side again before you have time to miss me.

Ever yours, my husband—

Wei Ying.

P.S.—I left a pot of ginger porridge on the table by the bed, if you should wake and be hungry before I return. There is only a little, since the rest is still cooking in the kitchen, and you and A-Yu will still have an appetite for breakfast if you finish it all.

_____

After Lan Wangji wakes and reads the folded letter on his bedside table, he scarcely glances at the tiny blue pot of ginger congee before stumbling out of bed and putting his shoes on. He is dressed in nothing but a thin white undergown, since he gave up dressing warmly at night when he first began sleeping beside Wei Ying; but he does not bother putting on a coat, and pauses only long enough to tuck a sleepy Xiao-Yu back under the covers before bounding out of the jingshi and hurrying downhill in his nightshirt.

“Wei Ying!” he calls, when he passes the tidy chicken pen—home to ten brown hens, which Lan Wangji brought to the Cloud Recesses as a gift for Wei Ying before they were married—and finds the chickens pecking away in the yard, eating grains of fresh corn that had clearly just been thrown out by Wei Ying’s dear hands. But Wei Ying must have finished collecting the eggs, and gone on towards the warded field on the fringes of the bamboo forest to scatter vegetables for the rabbits; so Lan Wangji presses on, running with the wind at his back and the sharp pebbles underfoot almost piercing through his slippers. He reaches the rabbit field in less than a minute, careening between stalks of bamboo like a man possessed, and throws himself at Wei Ying so forcefully that he knocks his husband backwards into the soft grass at their feet.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying wheezes, as his lettuce basket flies out of his hand and lands near the entrance to a burrow: mercifully, the basket of eggs must have been set aside somewhere else before Wei Ying arrived to feed the rabbits. “Lan Zhan, sweetheart, what are you doing here? Is Xiao-Yu—?”

“Do not worry. Xiaohui is still asleep,” Lan Wangji assures him, bringing Wei Ying’s sun-warmed hands to his mouth and kissing them. “I came to find you because I read your letter.”

Wei Ying smiles, beaming from ear until Lan Wangji finds himself gasping for breath at the beauty of the sight before him. “I thought you must have. You were cuddled up against me when I woke up, and you were holding Xiao-Yu between us to keep him warm...and I couldn’t help it, Lan Zhan! You were so sweet that my heart could scarcely bear it, so of course I had to write it down for you.”

“Perhaps I should take up the habit of writing you love letters,” muses Lan Wangji, kissing Wei Ying’s delighted grin straight from his lips. “What do you think, xingan?”

“I think that waking to find you beside me every morning already brings me so much joy I could burst, darling. If you really did start leaving love letters for me to find, I would fold myself into your arms and never come out again.”

“Mm, perhaps you would. But that would please me greatly, so I suppose I will have to do it.”

His husband pinches his cheek. “Lan Zhan!”

“I am listening, beloved. With all my heart.”

Wei Ying covers his face and tries to roll out of Lan Wangji’s grasp, wriggling about six inches away before Lan Wangji takes him by the waist and draws him back. “Lan Zhan,” he wails, as a couple of baby rabbits hop up onto Lan Wangji’s back. “You can’t say such things, you silly man! See how my face is burning, look!”

“I’m looking,” Lan Wangji teases, tracing Wei Ying’s red cheeks with the pads of his own pale fingers. “I am always looking. I love my husband dearly, and he is very beautiful to look at.”

“Well, my husband is not so young as he used to be. Perhaps he is mistaken.”

“Oh?” He punctuates the inquiry with another searing kiss, pulling Wei Ying up into his arms and holding him so close that he can feel the stutter of his breathing, and his pulse beating quickly against Lan Wangji’s wrist. “Do you really think so?”

But the only reply Wei Ying gives him is a tender look that shakes Lan Wangji down to his jindan, and leaves him struggling for air all over again as Wei Ying wraps his arms around him.

In the end, they do not leave the clearing until nearly half an hour later; the grass is as comfortable a cushion as two sweethearts could want, and the rabbits keep leaping around them and making Wei Ying laugh, so they lie there, cheek to cheek and chest to chest until they remember Xiao-Yu, all by himself in the jingshi with no one to hear him cry if he wakes up frightened to find himself alone.

The thought of their son has Lan Wangji leaping to his feet with Wei Ying’s hand in his, and then they bolt back towards the house and retrieve the basket of eggs on the way, running nearly fast enough to outstrip Wen Ning at his swiftest before Wei Ying throws the doors open and barrels into the bedroom.

“A-Yu!” he calls, letting out a shout of laughter as Lan Wangji comes jogging up behind him. “Xiao-Yu, baobei, what are you doing?”

“I’m eating ginger porridge,” Xiao-Yu chirps. The little lotus-shaped pot of congee is nestled snugly in his arms, and A-Yu is eating out of it with the large spoon Wei Ying left behind for Lan Wangji. “Papa and A-Niang went out, so Xiao-Yu is having breakfast.”

“Aiyah, Xiao-Yu,” Wei Ying groans, taking the pot away from A-Yu and wiping his dirty face with a handkerchief. “That was for you and Papa, sweetheart, since I was going to be late back. How will you eat your breakfast properly now?”

“But A-Yu is still hungry,” the little boy insists, trying to grab the spoon. “A-Niang, let me finish?”

“Wait a little longer,” scolds Wei Ying. “I still have to cook the rest of the porridge with steamed dan, and make chicken soup to go with it. Now be a good child and go with Papa to take your bath, and breakfast will be ready when you finish dressing.”

Xiao-Yu nods and jumps off the bed, scurrying off towards the washroom on the other side of the house, and leaves his parents to embrace each other once again before they part to attend to their own duties.

“What do you want this afternoon, qinai?” Lan Wangji murmurs, as Wei Ying’s head falls onto his shoulder. “The tradesmen ought to have sent up the day’s groceries by now, so I will make lunch while you teach your talisman class.”

Wei Ying blinks, very slowly, and then he stands up on his toes and plants one last, lingering kiss between Lan Wangji’s eyebrows.

“Teach my talisman class with me,” he entreats. “When we get back, we can make lunch together.”

(And so they do, and just like all the other dishes Lan Wangji has shared with Wei Ying, that afternoon’s luncheon tastes fresher and sweeter than every meal before it.)

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #lan wangji #wei wuxian #my fic #i was heartbroken i had to take ACTION #*sobs*#please check it out on ao3 if you can!

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leejungchans · 4 years

Text

— dance with me?

word count: 1.7k

pairing: dino (svt) x ateez oc (juliet)

warning(s): none!!

genre: an overwhelming amount of fluff bc i love lee chan

set on february 11, 2021

summary: during a late-night date on dino’s birthday, he asks juliet a special question.

juliet’s masterlist

minnie 🐭❤️ [22:16] i’m heading down now!! (◕‿◕) don’t drive off without me please ur so sexc 😩😩

From where he is, parked a street down from the building where ATEEZ’s dorm is in, Chan shakes his head fondly, looking out the window from the driver’s seat for any sign of his girlfriend.

Sure enough, just a few minutes later, Juliet emerges from the building’s entrance, glancing down the mostly empty street before spotting the familiar car.

Under the light of the street lamps, he can see that she’s wearing a huge puffer jacket with a scarf wrapped around her neck, purple hair stuffed under her beanie to avoid catching the attention of prying eyes. With all the layers she has on, she reminds him of a waddling penguin as she speed-walks towards the car.

Cute.

Chan unlocks the door as Juliet approaches, her eyes smiling while she settles into the passenger’s seat before leaning over the console to hug him. “Happy birthday, Channie,” she beams, taking off her mask to nuzzle the bottom half of her face into the thick material of her scarf.

“You already said that,” Chan teases, also smiling as he watches her fumble with the seatbelt for a bit.

“That was from almost twelve hours ago at 12 am! I think it’s illegal if I didn’t wish you a happy birthday again,” Juliet protests. “Sorry for being late, by the way. Have you been waiting long?”

“It’s only a few minutes, don’t sweat it.”

“Okay, but there’s actually a good reason! I was about to leave the building when Mingi-oppa called me because I left your present on the table, and I had to go back up to grab it! So you have him to thank that you have a birthday present.”

Juliet takes out a small gift bag, its handles tied together with ribbon so he can’t look into it, and hands it to him with a sweet grin. “Don’t open it now, though,” she warns half-jokingly.

“What? Why?” Chan whines. “I can’t even open my own present on my birthday?”

“No, because if you open it now then I’ll have to explain the meaning behind your gift, and if I do that I might actually cry. There’s a card inside explaining it.”

“What if I want to hear it from you?”

“Then you can call me when you get home,” she responds cheekily.

Chan relents. “Fine, you win. But you didn’t have to get me anything, I hope you know that,” he adds the last part seriously.

Juliet smiles reassuringly. “I know, but I wanted to. I hope you’ll like it, though.”

“I know I will.” It’s at that moment when he finally gets a good look at her face, the light from the street lamps hitting it just enough for him to note the dark circles under her eyes. “You look tired, baby. Don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful no matter what, but is everything okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” As though on cue, Juliet brings a hand up to cover her mouth as she yawns. “Just a little tired from comeback preparations and practising for Kingdom. I’ll be fine, though, don’t worry.”

“I’ll always worry about you,” Chan admits. “You shouldn’t have come so you can rest.”

Juliet frowns. “No, I wanted to see you. Plus, it’s your birthday.”

“Okay, but you have to promise that you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I always do!” A pause. “Okay, sometimes I don’t, but I’ll try,” she promises genuinely.

Chan smiles. “Good. Let’s go, then. Seatbelt on?”

“Mhm!”

“Um, where exactly are you taking me?” Juliet asks suspiciously, noting that they’re currently driving up a hill away from central Seoul.

“Patience, Minnie. You’ll find out soon,” Chan says with a mischievous smirk. “We’re almost there.”

She feigns an offended gasp. “I am always patient! I’m just asking because I’m too pretty to meet my end now.”

“If something happens, I’ll protect you.”

“Nice try, but don’t think I haven’t watched that episode of GOING SEVENTEEN with you guys in the haunted house,” Juliet teases with a raised brow. “If anything, we probably need to call Wonwoo-ssi or Minghao-ssi.”

Chan groans. “Can we not talk about my members when we’re on a date?”

This only earns a laugh from Juliet. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“You’re going to tease me even on my birthday?”

“It’s how I show affection!” she defends while the car comes to a stop at the side of a dimly lit road. “Are we here?”

Upon his nod, she unbuckles her seatbelt to hop out the car, snow crunching under her boots. Immediately, harsh winds whip at her face and she shivers, the temperature even lower due to the higher elevation.

She hears a lighthearted tsk from behind her before feeling her jacket being draped over her shoulders. “You left it in the backseat, silly,” Chan says softly while he helps her into it, referring to when she took it off during the car ride. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“No, I won’t. I have you to remind me,” Juliet says cheekily, earning herself a light flick on the forehead. She follows Chan to a clearing a few paces away from where they parked and immediately realises why he took her here.

Seoul, with its sparkling lights, is captivating at night when you’re in the heart of the city, but perhaps even more so when you’re looking at it from afar. She can’t help but admire the stark contrast between the tranquil hillside they’re at that compared to the vibrant city centre it overlooks.

“I sometimes come here with the members when we want to be away from... the loudness of it all,” Chan explains quietly as they move closer to the railing. “To think. Or just to take our mind off certain things.”

Juliet leans closer to his side to link their arms, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. “It’s beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Don’t come to places like here often?”

She snorts. “I don’t just let anyone drive me to a dark hill in the middle of the night.”

Chan laughs, gently resting his head on hers. “You have a point. Does this mean I’m the only person allowed to take you here?”

“I’d like that. I also have a horrible sense of direction, so I don’t think I can remember the way here even if I tried.” Despite her quip, something in Juliet feels fuzzy and warm at the thought of this place being one only they know of.

It brings a sense of giddiness, the same one she felt when she was much, much younger; when she and her friends first decided on a secret hideout at their school back home in Sydney. Only this time, there’s more to it than just childhood innocence.

Juliet doesn’t know much about love. She’s had crushes here and there throughout her life, but none of them ever developed into something further. Of course, until she met Chan.

She doesn’t know much about love. But this feels like it.

And that’s more than enough for her.

His voice cuts through her thoughts. “I actually have something to ask you.”

At her hum, he continues.

“I was wondering if you’d want to be on Danceology. You know, like for a collaboration. We can choreograph and dance it together... anything you want, really.”

Juliet looks up at the boy with wide eyes, not knowing if she heard him correctly. “You’re sure?”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. Or you don’t have to decide now, I know you’re really busy these days. No pressure at all.”

“No, no,” she clarifies. “I meant if you’re sure you want to do one with me?”

The look in his eyes is so tender that she feels like crying. “I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

Something tells her he’s not only referring to Danceology.

Juliet leans her forehead on Chan’s shoulder to hide her face from him. “You’re going to make me cry on your own birthday,” she mutters.

“Is that a yes?”

She nods against him while blinking away the hot tears prickling at her eyes, feeling his lips press against her temple.

“That’s the best present you could’ve given me.”

“Yah, you can’t say that!” Juliet says, somehow finding it in her to crack a joke. What can she say? Humour is one of her many coping mechanisms. “You’re only supposed to say that if I didn’t give you anything! What does that make the gift I got you?”

“Best of the best?” At her laugh, Chan presses again, “am I still not allowed to open it?”

“No, you’re not.”

[00:05—Outside ATEEZ’s dorm]

“Okay, fine, you can open it.”

“What made you change your mind?” Chan grins, already reaching for the small bag in the backseat.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Juliet admits, smiling as she uses the dimmest setting of her phone’s flashlight to illuminate the dark interior, the overhead light being too risky to turn on at this hour lest they want to draw unwanted attention to themselves. “I guess I want to see your reaction.”

She stares quietly as he undos the ribbon tying the handles together before looking into the bag and taking out a small box. Despite her shyness and the sudden urge to jump out of the car and run back up to the dorm, Juliet continues to hold up her phone as he takes out the silver band within it.

It’s simple, minimalist, inconspicuous enough to wear during the day but at the same time uniquely his due to the custom engraving on the outside of the band. A snowflake.

She bites the inside of her cheek from nervousness as Chan silently reads the small card that came along in the bag, subconsciously tracing over her neat handwriting with his finger.

“Like a snowflake, I fell for you hahahaha (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) You asked me to be yours during the first snow of the year. I hope that is only the start of many more years to come. Happy Birthday, always be happy and healthy ❤️ And don’t forget to take care of yourself!! (♡`Д´) If you forget I’ll come over and nag you, but maybe you’d like that more than not ㅋㅋㅋ — 🐭❤️”

Chan’s eyes are glossy when he finally meets her curious and worried gaze, trying to gauge his reaction. He beams brightly.

“Told you I’d like it.”

find their collaboration here!! 😼

a/n: blessing you guys with this gif bc look at him go!! ;-; stream dino’s dancelogy to be sexcie 😼 pls don’t let juno flop </3 also i thought it’d be too mean if i didn’t tell you what the present was bc i definitely considered not saying anything about it 👀👀 anyways let me know what you think about this chapter 🥺 personally i am <///3 bc bwhehwhs i want what they have but also i’m not very good at writing fluff whjehdhw i cringe at myself sm when writing it 🤡

thank you so much for reading 💕 please do consider leaving feedback whether it’s a reblog, a reply or an ask, it would mean the absolute world to me as feedback really motivates and supports creators 🥺 and feel free to chat with me about juliet or anything else through my asks!! as always, take care and have a good day!!

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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

Text

TF x Graves, 2500 words, complete and utter fluff

Stifling another yawn against the back of my hand I glance over at the window, which shows only the flat dark of a moonless night outside, before turning my eyes back to the line of T.F.’s naked back.

I’m already undressed and perched on the side of the bed, watching as T.F. is still in the middle of his nightly ritual of hanging or folding his fine clothes up all properly and neatly, lest they, I don’t know, unduly crease somewhere they ain’t meant to or somethin’. Listen, I keep my clothes in a pile on the floor by the side of the bed, right next to the shotgun, both within easy reach in the case of a middle-of-the-night emergency skipping of town. Our priorities in these matters don’t really intersect much, but to each his own and so on.

I don’t know why I’m waiting for him to come to bed to lie down myself, exactly — my eyes are already making a spirited attempt at staying shut on me whenever I blink, I’m pretty sure I’d be out and snoring in about three seconds once I got settled — but my skin has that thin restless thrum all through it that I know from experience won’t be satisfied until he’s settled into place against me and besides, the view is nothin’ to sneeze at in the meantime. He stands there shirtless, belt unbuckled and hanging loose around his narrow hips, though the fastenings of his trousers are still done up. In the light of the oil lamp across the room he’s in a rare state of relaxed unselfconscious disarray, his hair grown out long enough again that it spills over his shoulders and down his back while he fastidiously fastens the cufflinks back into place on the empty shirt so they’ll be easy to find in the morning. As he finishes up with the cufflinks he sings to himself under his breath, a good-natured jaunty little tune I vaguely remember the Brick would sometimes break out once you got a couple of drinks in him.

The hum under my skin grows higher and keener.

Stretching an arm out I hook my fingers into one of his belt loops and gently pull him in by it towards the side of the bed, until he’s standing between my legs. It prompts a half-bemused noise from him, but he goes along easily — when I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my forehead against his belly he seems to catch on, though, a sound of amusement vibrating through his chest.

He slides his hand to the back of my neck, twining his fingers into the short hair there, thumb trailing back and forth along the hairline.

T.F.’s too damned scrawny to have much in the way of padding anywhere, but there’s the warm body softness to him here nevertheless, the sweet yield and shift of a living thing whose pliancy belies the supple strength beneath. I rest my cheek against the flat of his stomach and sigh, moving my hand at the small of his back in slow caressing circles.

“Come to bed already,” I murmur, too sleep-softened along the edges to worry overmuch about makin’ sense.

He chuckles, fingers stroking through my hair. “Well, I was on my way, but then I was waylaid by some deplorable fellow in the process. Hell of a thing.”

I grin and turn my face up to him, so that my chin is resting against his belly and my lips brush his skin when I talk. “Huh. Sounds like a real shady character. You want a trustworthy sorta guy to escort you safely the rest of the way?”

“With such dangerous reprobates skulking around in the area, that’s probably for the best,” T.F. nods somberly, fond amusement deepening his voice. He runs his thumb down the bridge of my nose. “Could I afford to hire the services of a strapping upstanding gentleman like yourself, though?”

I make a nonchalant sound in my nose, squeezing him closer against me for a moment. “Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it, this one’s on the house.”

His thumb drifts down to rest at the upturned corner of my mouth as he grins back at me. “Hey, looks like it’s my lucky day.”

I kiss his stomach and lean back enough so I can start in on the fastenings of his trousers — not with any sort of heat behind it, there’s no hint of sex in the air, but in a weird way this is equally satisfying, the everyday-textured contentment of being close without any particular purpose, being the one to slowly render him naked in front of me for no other reason than that he lets me, his hands still smoothing patiently through my hair while I work.

Once I’ve got all the buttons sorted I run my thumb along the sharp edge of his hip bone until I can tuck it into the waist of his trousers and use it to tug them down. We get them about half-way down his thighs like that before we have to pause for him to shimmy out of them the rest of the way on his own, his hand resting on my shoulder for balance as he does the traditional one-legged hop to extricate his foot. Serves him right for only ever wearing pants that might as well have been painted onto him. I mean, not that I’m complainin’, mind.

“Whoa!” he says, laughing as he almost overbalances at the last hurdle, but my hand shoots out to steady him by the hip before too much disaster can be wrought. “Well, not the smoothest strip tease I’ve ever pulled off, sorry about the inconvenience.”

I nose at the newly revealed crease of his hip over the edge of his underwear. “Eh, that’s okay, if I actually wanted a proper show I’d just suggest a round of strip poker again and sit back and watch while you lose.”

“Oh, that’s a strange yet beautiful dream world you’ve made up for yourself there, Malcolm. It’s touching, really, the things the mind will do to protect itself from the truth. Positively — aah!”

T.F. jumps as I draw some of the skin of his hip between my lips and use them to nip sharply at it. His startled yelp turns into a snigger as I let go, possibly ruining the castigating effects somewhat when I brush my lips soothingly over that spot right after.

“Let that be a lesson to ya,” I say sternly.

“A lesson on what, that your mom was apparently half turtle?”

I grunt, still trailing soft kisses over his skin. “That judge in Piltover was right back then, you are an incorrigible menace to all decent and right-thinking people everywhere.”

“First of all, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Malcolm, thank you. Two, including yourself among the ‘decent and right-thinking’ feels like the invention of some fresh new form of fraud by way of imposture unfolding before my eyes, and it’s an honour. And third, that seems to me to be some very selective memory you have there, considering His Honour Judge Highton had some even more colourful words for you after you blew up the entire north wall of the court building breakin’ me out.”

“He might’ve been given to wearing a damn silly mop on his head, but you couldn’t fault him on his vocabulary,” I concede. Before that whole incident I’d honestly thought the wigs were some sort of practical joke the Pilties would play on gullible outsiders, but as it turns out no, if you get sent to jail in the twin cities they add the indignity of makin’ someone wearing a dead badger on their head break the bad news to you. It’s a strange ol’ world out there, alright. In Bilgewater, where people are much more sensible, the justice system basically boils down to the bounty board, or — if you’ve really managed to make a nuisance of yourself — a bunch of captains may call a temporary ceasefire with each other and go get your ass together. I’ve found that the risk of getting on the bad end of an unfair trial is about the same in both places, though of course the Bilgewater one tends to be harder to come back from if carried out to its fullest. I consider myself a bit of an expert in these things.

T.F. makes a thoughtful sound. “To be fair I don’t think anyone had ever given him cause or inspiration for profanity like you did.”

“Aw. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He leans down and kisses the top of my head before he straightens for long enough to work his second foot free as well, standing there in just the sleek silky underpants he somehow seems to have an endless fresh supply of wherever we go. (My money’s on some sinister underground ring of lingerie-oriented tailors across south-eastern Valoran, for the record; when it comes to secret societies the Noxians just can’t help themselves.)

“I do my best. Hang on just one moment, I’ll be right back,” he says and ruffles my hair before he turns around, which I would complain about except that the view is, as previously mentioned, impeccable, and I’m sleepy enough to be magnanimous.

After meticulously folding his trousers and leaving them with the rest of his clothes, T.F. moves over to the table across the room and extinguishes the oil lamp, then whistles under his breath as he produces a card from somewhere — he does this, seemingly from thin air and no matter how little he’s wearing; I prefer not to speculate too much about how, exactly — and lets a little magic into it so it gives off a low glow, only enough to light his way the short walk back across the room, ‘cause in T.F.’s world the stubbing of toes and smacking of shins against unexpected furniture in the dark is somethin’ that happens to other people. That probably says some things about him I’m not ready to go puzzlin’ out at this time of night, and that he wouldn’t want to have anyone go puzzlin’ about too hard in the first place anyway.

When I hold out my hand for him in the dark he smiles and takes it, twining our fingers together, and I use the hold to tug him in and deposit him, in a neat controlled wrestler’s roll held close against me as I lay down, to his side of the bed. He laughs again at that, a surprised delighted sound that edges dangerously close to a giggle but hey, I ain’t no snitch, so who’s gonna testify against him, huh?

The card ends up on the far side of his pillow after the tumble, still giving off a glow, enough to illuminate the bed and lend the shadows around it some warmth. It makes the bed seem a small cozy island, the rest of the world rendered a not-unfriendly ocean of darkness around it.

T.F. looks at me like the world’s most contented castaway, bourgeoning crow’s feet punctuating his smile on either side and fingers still linked with mine. His hair is mussed from the meandering fall onto the bed. If I were only fractionally less about five seconds away from fallin’ asleep, my body might start to get ideas about it. Well, tomorrow is always another day.

With the back of my free hand I brush some of his hair away from his brow, and he cranes into it like a well-pleased cat. Even with the blankets tangled around our feet and the not-quite-right positions we’ve ended up in, having tumbled into place rather than settled ourselves with purpose, everything feels warm and loose and comfortable, like I could fall asleep like this even with the decidedly odd angle my arm is at.

As if sensing that the drowsiness is about to claim me for real, T.F. brings our linked hands up to his face so he can press his lips to my scarred knuckles before he lets go, then reaches to pull the covers over us, taking a moment to tuck the blanket around my shoulder properly before snuggling under it himself, hooking his leg over my thigh as he settles into place. I shift until we fit together, the familiarity of how to rest against each other just right comfortable like an old and well-loved piece of clothing. On a sigh he rests our foreheads together, craning forward the tiny amount needed to brush our mouths together and humming contentedly when I meet him there. It’s a slow kiss, but it lingers, a dry sweet press of lips like one last spark sending the day off down into the gently drifting murk of sleep that’s about to claim me for a few hours.

When it ends — I don’t think either of us was really the first to pull back, at some point the kiss simply, in the way of snowflakes on tongues, melted into something different and less defined with the warmth — there’s a moment when my eyes can still fight against slipping shut. It’s weird, the way you can look at someone every day for years and still not feel like you’ve had your fill. T.F.’s sharp narrow face, his high pointy little cheekbones and mouth still curved with a smile as he watches me back — there’s something to knowing I’m gonna see all that again tomorrow morning that all the damn money on Runeterra couldn’t get you. And take it from me, from what I’ve seen of the world there ain’t a lot of things in this life enough money won’t buy. Stumbling across one of them long before we even knew what we had, by a stroke of little more’n dumb fucking luck… sometimes it feels like the biggest heist we ever pulled.

“Hey, Tobias?” I say, brushing the tip of my nose against his as my eyelids finally give up both the battle and the war and slide closed.

“Hmmm?” he says, cheerfully drowsy as well.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I murmur, because I can’t think of any damn happier thing in the world to say to him.

He wraps his arms around me, his hand stroking meanderingly up and down the scar-crossed span of my back, fingers trailing over my skin with the perfect amount of firmness because he’s taken the time to learn exactly how much pressure it takes to make it comforting. As sleep starts pulling me under to calmer depths I tuck my head under his chin, so my face is pressed to the line of his throat and to his chest. He smells so nice, all warmly real and well-known like my own breathing.

“Tomorrow,” he agrees on a yawn, nuzzling at the top of my head and tightening his arms around me, just for a moment.

I've been trying to write stuff -- literally just anything, no matter how meandering and nonsensical -- to try to break out of a writer's block; it's not really working so far but at least I've got SOMETHING tangible to show for it at the end of the day, so, you know, uh... partial success I guess?? haha

The idea of T.F. having a judge somewhere out there who considers him the One True Nemesis of his career, J. Jonah Jameson style, even though T.F. barely even remembers his name, came from a wonderful conversation with @inversway, and the idea makes me laugh so hard every time I think about it.

ETA: Also put this on AO3, so I have somewhere to put these ficlets that isn't just tumblr! I'm grimly clinging on to this blue hellsite like a obstinate barnacle to the hull of the Titanic, but I do realize it's not the best place to archive uh anything lol

#tf x graves #twistedgraves #league of legends #my writing #been trying to live the philosophy 'it doesn't have to be good; it just has to be SOMETHING'#and from that I have at least learned that I don't necessarily think perfectionism was the main problem anyway lol #every little insight helps I suppose

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ikorous · 3 years

Text

Slow Show

Post Hogwarts Dramione One Shot. Rated M for explicit content.

"Draco slowly dipped his head down and kissed her shoulder while pulling the strap just a little farther down her arm. He could feel the goosebumps rise under his lips."

AO3

Fanfiction.net

Wattpad

Slow Show

Draco leaned back on the bed as Hermione pulled one of the diamond earrings out of her ear, dropping it carefully into a large jewelry box on the vanity where she sat in front of a silver mirror. She started on the other one and he curled his arm behind his head, watching her remove the heavy stones from her soft body.

"It was a beautiful ceremony," she said, continuing the conversation they had struck up after leaving the reception much later than he had planned to. He had to practically drag her from the woodland clearing the happy couple had hosted their wedding in.

Hermione had argued that since he was the best man and she was one of the bridesmaids, they couldn't just run off without seeing the reception completed. He pled his case that he couldn't stand here and look at her in that dress for hours without hauling her off into the twilight woods and having his way with her. She retorted with a twisting smile and told him to "Be good, Draco," to which he replied, "You know I am."

He relented eventually, seeing how happy she was celebrating her friend's nuptials and sipped on some shimmering purple punch that was surprisingly strong as he watched the dusk light up the gold in her braided curls. Britain's wizarding elite had gathered, draped in their fine silks and showing off their family heirlooms along with a number of the war heroes still highly celebrated even all these years later.

It had been the event of the season and as happy as he was for his friend, all Draco wanted to do from the minute Hermione had slipped on her midnight blue gown adorned with golden stars was to peel it off her body and slide himself into it. The reception had been trying, to say the least.

But at least he got to spend a good amount of time spinning her around the charmed forest dance floor, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and watching her blush and squirm against him.

Hermione stood up and opened the wardrobe before pulling at the straps of her celestial gown.

Draco jumped up from the bed, landing gracefully on his feet and in two long strides stopped behind her, placing his hands over hers and stopping the straps just as they reached the curve of her shoulders.

"Allow me," he said in a soft voice. Hermione paused and Draco glanced up at the mirror in front of them to see a small smile beginning to form on her lips. Her hands slowly fell from under his to rest at her sides and her warm brown eyes rested on the reflection on his silver ones in the mirror as Draco slowly dipped his head down and kissed her shoulder while pulling the strap just a little farther down her arm.

He could feel the goosebumps rise under his lips.

His long fingers gently pulled at the straps until they were hanging down by her elbows and the gown was making a valiant effort to stay on her body. Hermione took a deep breath and Draco trailed his fingers back up, over her skin, and to the nape of her neck where her necklace still hung.

"You were saying something?" he drawled, pretending he didn't notice the effect he was having on her.

"Yes," Hermione breathed out and blinked a few times. "Wasn't Luna beautiful? And Theo… I've never seen him that-" she sucked in a quick breath as Draco started on the zipper down her back, drawing out its journey down to the small of her back. "Well… you saw him tonight."

"Won't forget it either." He rolled his eyes and reached back up to start pulling the pins out of her hair as Hermione held the dress to her chest, keeping it in place. Not for long, my love. Draco smirked to himself then added, "To call that dancing is a crime against wizard kind."

Theo had met Luna a few years ago while Draco and Hermione were still dating. He had told Draco how he thought the dreamy blonde was cute after they had all gone out for drinks a few times, but Draco hadn't realized that the offhand comments were actually a deeper attraction growing in his friend. Six months ago he had asked her out and three months later they were engaged. Hermione had been thrilled, knowing the trouble Theo had with his family after the war and Luna had brought joy back into his life.

As soon as Hermione had seen them together, her cinnamon brown eyes had sparked and her chest filled with a deep breath. She clasped her hands together in front of her as Draco chuckled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him and he felt the excitement coming off of her in waves.

He had to admit; he hadn't seen Theo laugh like that or… even smile that much, not until he was with Luna. It was nice. Theo had never fully recovered from losing his father in the war and Draco had spent many long hours talking with him, about memories, about Quidditch, or about anything Theo needed. He was glad to see his friend find some peace with the woman he loved. Salazar knew Draco had found his with Hermione.

And Theo doted on Luna, indulging in all her whims and fancies. Following her around with eyes almost as large as Luna's and sweeping her into his arms just to kiss her for no good reason other than he was madly in love. Luna always laughed and smiled, touching his face gently and whispering so low no one but her now husband could hear, bringing a silly smile to Theo's normally sullen face.

Theo had carried his bride to a carriage pulled by some strange creatures that looked a bit like oversized oranges with wings and beaks and took to the sky, heading off on their honeymoon in Thailand to explore the jungles and look for something that Draco didn't even bother to try and pronounce and Hermione vehemently argued wasn't real. But she had still kissed Luna on the cheek, hugging her tightly and wishing her well before Theo scooped her up.

As soon as the carriage had left the ground, Draco was pulling Hermione through the crowd. Intent on getting his wife home where he could fulfill the carnal promises he made her on the dance floor.

"I thought it was sweet. And anyways Luna always did dance to the beat of her own drummer. Theo was just… trying to learn her steps," she giggled a little, eyes shining in the silver glass as he finished pulling the braids from her hair and let them tumble down her bare shoulders. He breathed in deeply, smelling the rich scent of her perfume.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He loved to take off the fine gowns she wore to social events. Loved to pull out the pins from her hair and run his fingers through her curls as they fell loosely around her. Loved to kneel down and slip the heels from her feet before sweeping her off of them and carrying her to their bed.

"You think everything is sweet," he said dismissively, trying to keep the hammering in his chest under control.

"You can't honestly say you aren't happy for them," Hermione retorted. "Yes Theo was… exuberant, but people in love always are.

"I suppose," Draco said drolly and slid a finger down her spine.

Hermione scoffed and his eyes cut back up to hers in the mirror. "Draco," she said seriously. "Do you not remember hiring a dragon to take me up on only to have it breathe fire and light up 'Will you marry me?' on the ground below? Exuberant if I've ever seen it."

Draco smirked and moved his hand back up to the back of her neck and debating with himself whether to unclasp the necklace or leave it on her chest so it would bounce with the movements of his thrusts. "Well, it got you to say yes that time."

Hermione rolled her eyes this time, but the small smile grew just a little. Draco decided to leave it on. He liked seeing her in jewels. Especially ones he had bought for her.

"It was what? The sixth time you asked me?" Hermione tilted her head to the side slightly and narrowed her eyes playfully.

"Seventh," Draco answered.

"You're not counting that first time when-"

He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back against him. "When we were drunk and I was fucking you in the back of that Muggle car you used to drive around? Yes, I'm counting that."

Hermione flushed pink.

"As I recall, you almost said yes." Draco breathed out, making a few curls ruffle beside her face.

"I said a lot of things that night."

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her midriff, holding her. "Oh, I remember."

"I don't know how," she tucked her face down in embarrassment. "You were stone drunk. We both were."

"I could never forget our first fuck."

She slowly blinked her eyes, letting her dark lashes brush across the tops of her cheeks. "My husband, the romantic."

"That's right," Draco said, sliding his hand up to hers and pulling slightly, making the gown slip dangerously low on her chest. "You bring it out in me."

She smiled again, her cheeks pinking as she glanced up to see him smirking back at her.

"Now I want to bring these out," he said huskily and pulled her hand down farther, letting the midnight blue gown slip over her slender frame and pool at the floor around her golden heels.

Draco hardened behind her.

Where the fuck she had found panties that small he had no clue, but he would buy one of every thing in the shop if it even looked half as good as these did on her. Hell, maybe he'd just buy the company so they could exclusively make lingerie for her. Either way, she was going to need a new pair because he was going to tear these apart with his teeth.

Draco cupped her breasts, kneading them with long fingers until her breathing quickened. He could feel her skin heating up against him and fought the urge to watch his hands on her in front of the mirror, electing to keep his eyes on the twin pools of deep brown that were darkening with desire in the silver glass. When her mouth parted slightly to allow a small gasp Draco's thumbs and fingers moved to her hardened nipples, rolling them skillfully before giving them each a soft pull and causing another breathtaking gasp to slip from her.

"Let me have you," he murmured into her ear, breathing out against it. "I was on my best behavior tonight. I want my prize."

"Were you? You spent half the night at the punch table with Blaise and the other half pawing at me-"

Draco tightened his fingers on her nipples and Hermione let out a weak whimper.

"Would you rather I be bad then?" he asked in a husky voice. "Because I'll fuck you against this mirror and make you watch your own face as you come, or-" he snaked a hand down to her rest under navel. "I can lay you down on our big, soft bed and use my tongue for even better things than getting you wet on a dance floor."

"How do you know you got me-"

"Oh, I know, my love," Draco said in a low voice, gazing deeply into the reflection of her dark eyes. "Just like I know you're going to let me lick you clean."

Her eyes opened wide and stared back at him.

"Yes," Hermione whispered back, brows pulling together in want. "Oh, God, yes…"

Draco bent his knees and swept her up in his arms, carrying her over to the bed and laid her down softly, watching as her body sunk into the thick blanket, bare except for the necklace of golden stars, her tiny panties, and gilded heels that were sinfully tall. He stepped back to admire her, this gorgeous woman in his bed that finally allowed him to call her his wife after years of chasing her.

He pulled his shirt from his shoulders, tossing it to the floor and his trousers followed after. Draco climbed onto the bed and pulled her legs up, and knelt in front of her. Kissing her ankle, he slowly made his way up to her creamy calf, relishing the taste of her skin.

"Draco, my shoes-" Hermione started.

"Leave them on," he growled. "I want you to dig those heels into me when I'm fucking you."

"Oh, God." She pushed her head back, letting her loose waves spill out onto the pillows behind her. She looked like a Queen, surrounded by a crown of curls and adorned in gold. And he was her loyal subject.

He switched legs as he reached her knees, trailing his lips over the smooth skin of her thigh and resting her legs on his shoulders as he slowly bent himself lower towards the place he had been trying to reach all night and now only a little piece of fabric was keeping him out.

Draco breathed out as he reached the apex of her thighs and felt her tremble. He grazed his lips over the fabric, he was just about able to taste her through it and planted a small kiss right in the middle. Hermione breathed out deeply, letting all the air leave her lungs in a wistful sigh. He sucked on them causing a sharp intake of breath and when he had enough of the wet fabric in his mouth, closed his teeth around them and started to tug.

Hermione used her legs on his shoulders to push her ass up from the bed so the last bit of clothing easily slid from her body. Draco growled in appreciation as they moved down her legs easily. He could taste her on them and sucked at them as he continued to pull them down. He paused when they reached her knees and looked down at his wife under him.

Desire darkened her burning cinnamon eyes and he bit down harder, grinding the thin fabric in his teeth before yanking them back quickly and ripping them over her heels and pushing her legs back open.

"That's the third pair of underwear you've ruined this week," Hermione said, trying to sound forceful, but her flushed cheeks gave her away.

Draco shrugged. "Stop wearing them then."

Leaning back down, Draco pulled her thighs around his head and felt the tips of her heels resting below his shoulders. Finally, he had her right where he wanted. Pulling his eyes away from her center only long enough to watch as sparks shot off deep in her gaze, Draco ran his tongue along her fold.

A shaking breath left her and her head fell back against the pillows again as his own fell deeply between her legs. He kissed her lower lips the same as he would the ones higher up, letting his tongue slowly part into them. She opened easily for him, but he still worked his tongue over her as if she was not already ripe for the taking.

She tasted sweet and tangy, a wonderful combination that he dove in deeper for, trailing the length of her fold, spreading the creaminess over her and mixing it with his own saliva before gathering it back up with his tongue and drinking it down. Her breath was getting quicker and he ran his tongue inside her slit as his lips gently caressed her sensitive skin.

She gave a small twitch when the tip of his tongue touched the bud hidden away. Draco had to stop himself from grinning as he ran his tongue around it in gentle strokes, breathing out heavily onto her. He moved himself lower, towards her opening and found it soaked again. Dipping his tongue inside, he collected the fruits of his effort and trailed them back up to enjoy them on the bundle of nerves he had left quivering in his absence.

He flicked his tongue over her, bringing her closer with every swipe. Hermione let out a breathy moan, barely more than a whisper, but enough to drive him on. Draco rested his arm on her lower stomach, spreading his hand out over her to part her farther with his fingers then opened his mouth over her and let his tongue work itself back and forth, up and down until her little moans turned higher and quicker.

He shifted his tongue, coaxing her on with broad, flat strokes then switching to short, little laps, nodding his head as her hips began to move up, trying to meet him.

Her noises grew louder and he felt a deep ache of his own as his body called to claim hers. Her thighs were shaking around his head, closing in and muffling the ever-increasing sounds coming from her. The last thing he heard before they clamped around him, trapping him against her was Hermione desperately calling out his name.

Draco licked at her, keeping the same pace until he felt her start to convulse and gradually began to soften his tongue's swipes, knowing she was growing more sensitive with each one. He wasn't sure how long it took her to release her thighs from around his head, but the sound of her deep breathing and whimpering moans flooded back in as he kissed her to completion.

He placed soft pecks against her lips, her skin, her thighs as he slowed and sat back up. He could feel her on his face and ran his tongue around the edges of his mouth as he gazed down at the sated and satisfied woman below him.

Hermione's face was turned to the side, her eyes barely closed and chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath.

"Good enough for you?" Draco smirked and her burning brown eyes fluttered open. All she could manage was a nod and a small noise of approval. He chuckled as he leaned down over her, not letting their bodies touch just yet. She reached up and ran her hands over his chest and around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth down onto hers and giving another small moan as she tasted herself on his lips.

Draco felt his muscles contract and a deep throbbing of his own need hanging just inches away from her. He extended their kiss while pushing her slightly under him, getting her body in position for him and spreading her legs wider with his knees before placing himself on top of her.

"This is going to be fast, okay? I've been at half-mast since our first dance tonight and I need this. Now."

Hermione nodded, swallowing and moved her hands down to his chest and around his sides to hold on, knowing it was going to be quick and rough and urgent. Draco lined himself up with her entrance, pressing the tip of himself against her warmth then leaned down to capture her mouth with his again.

"Wrap your legs around me," he said in a hoarse voice and glanced down at the gold and jewels resting right above her bare breasts. Hermione hiked her legs up, pressing her knees above his waist and locking her heels across his back.

He couldn't stop the hiss that escaped him when he slid himself inside her, every muscle in his body tightening as he moved himself back and forth, speeding up quickly. Hermione's nails dug into his sides and back as she gasped with each thrust. He placed his hand on the top of her head, holding her under him as he pushed harder and deeper into her core.

Hermione was whimpering, gasping out moans in between heavy breaths. Her body moved under him as he quickened his pace, unable to slow down. He could feel her closing in around him and groaned as her warmth squeezed him. "Fuck, Hermione," he breathed out, starting to pant as a pressure built deep inside him.

"Just…" her breath caught in her throat. "Just a little more, please…"

Draco let out a low moan from deep in his chest. He couldn't wait much longer, his body was calling for a release and she felt so good around him, letting him dive into her as deep as he wanted, as he needed. She had done what he asked and the points of her heels were digging painfully into his back, pressing in harder every time he pulled himself back just to plunge back down into her. Fuck, he loved that feeling.

He crashed his mouth onto hers, driving himself into her faster, faster, faster. She tightened her thighs around him and he felt her walls close in on him, shaking with pleasure. She moaned something that might have been his name, but his lips didn't leave hers long enough for her to form real words.

He couldn't hold back anymore. She was clenching him and his blood was racing hotly in his veins. "Shit, oh, oh!" Draco pulled himself from her at the last second and spilled himself over her center, watching as he shot more and more, his body feeling weaker as his heart beat loudly in his ears.

Hermione was panting, trying to come back down from her second orgasm when he ran two fingers up her slit, gathering what he could of himself on them and lifting it up to her open mouth.

"Your turn." He grinned, grey eyes shining. She opened her mouth and he slid his fingers inside. Draco couldn't breathe while her tongue slid around his long fingers, sucking them clean. He felt his cock twitch again and slowly pulled his fingers from her mouth, running them over her lips and savoring their soft wetness.

He shifted slightly, resting his body on the bed next to her while simultaneously snaking an arm around her waist to keep her body against his.

"God, Draco…" she sighed and turned her head on the pillow towards him. "I can't feel my legs."

He grinned at her and sat up, picking up one of her legs and pulling the golden heel off of her foot and then did the same to the other, dropping them over the side of the bed. "Lift your head," he commanded and unclasped her necklace when she did so. Hermione's head fell heavily back down onto the bed of curls splayed out over the pillows.

He tossed the priceless piece of jewelry somewhere, hearing it clatter into some corner. With the last bit of his strength he pulled a throw from the bottom of the bed up, covering up his beautiful, satisfied, and exhausted wife.

"Sleep, my love," he murmured, kissing her hairline. Hermione gave a small moan and let her long lashes close over her deep eyes. He settled down next to her, pulling her into the crook of his arm and she nuzzled her face into his chest. Draco ran his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp and when her breathing changed into slower deeper ones, he gently pulled on her long curls, lifting them up and letting them fall back down.

He felt sleep weighing heavily on him, muscles loosening and limbs weighed down. He rested his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes, using the last few seconds of consciousness he whispered, "I love you, Hermione Malfoy. My wife. My love."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this. Also I would like to give a special thanks to mysweetorangetree for helping me name this fic and being an amazing person in general.

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harryhandstan · 4 years

Text

wonderful and warm

gif credit

I’m so excited to share this piece with y’all for @tbslenthusiast‘s dad-a-thon!! I’ve been debating whether or not to expand more on I Want Your Belly for a while now, so I’m considering this part two to that, though you don’t really have to read it first to understand this one. Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

thank you @peachybloomss and @tbslenthusiast for beta reading for me! love y’all both!!

word count: 2.6k

You had been adamant about not telling anybody for at least the first two months.

Your mom’s complications with each of her pregnancies prompted a fear in you that you might share in that gene she carried, so you just wanted to be sure. Make it to your first ultrasound at least to confirm the baby was happy and healthy. Harry, of course, had agreed to whatever it was you felt was best. He wanted you to be comfortable and truth is, all the complications or things that could go wrong, terrified him too.

But the second you put this man in front of a crowd, all his previous filters go out the window and it was slipping from his lips easily, telling the world that you were having his baby. You were angry at first, spending half of the show trying to calm your shaky hands. Honestly, most of it was just nervous energy at the idea of so many people knowing. It was out, and you had no control over the reactions of the millions of people that shared in loving your Harry. He was quick to remind you that you were the one he loved, no one else’s opinion mattered to him and it shouldn’t to you either.

Making such a public announcement meant the news reached your families ears a lot faster than you’d planned too, and you just didn’t want any of them to be hurt that they weren’t told first.

Anne is the first one to contact Harry from his side, promptly inviting you to dinner the following weekend with a small group of Harry’s family. But the closer you get to the day, the more anxious you are and he once again reminds you how much his family adores you already, would now love you even more.

“Even more than they love me now, probably,” He chuckles, taking your hand on the drive to his mother’s house, “Gonna be just like any Sunday dinner at Mum’s, innit? We just have something a little extra special t’celebrate now, lovie.”

Gemma answers the door to let the two of you in and she tugs you in for a hug, pulling you into the house without so much as a glance to her younger brother.

“Nice to see you too, Gem.” He follows the two of you inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Ignore him..someone’s just jealous they won’t be Mum’s favorite anymore.” She giggles, rolling her eyes as she leads you into the kitchen where Anne mimics her daughter’s greeting, scolding Harry playfully that he spoiled the surprise so soon.

By the end of the night, the two of them are already making predictions about what the baby will be, giving family name suggestions, and planning a baby shower for you.

Calling your family was a whole new level of anxiety you hadn’t experienced yet on this journey, and you paced back and forth in front of the desk where your iPad was already set up to FaceTime them. Harry sits on the foot of the bed, waiting for your nerves to settle enough to contact them.

“D’you want me to join you?” He doesn’t look at you, just continues to fiddle with one of the buttons on his shirt.

Your head pops up to where he sits, “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugs, “S’just..sometimes I think you might still be a bit mad at me. For letting it slip earlier than we wanted. Thought you might wanna talk to them alone first..in case they’re upset with me too.”

“I was never really mad. And I don’t think they’ll be upset..just may take them a little longer to accept that I didn’t tell them before you told everyone. They may not have even seen it yet.”

That was a lie. Your sister had texted you last night saying that she was thrilled to soon have a niece or nephew, but your mom had cried for a two whole days after they saw a clip from the show and your dad refused to even talk about it. Your brother was normally so far out of the loop that you truly didn’t know if he had heard the news, so you make a mental note to call him later too.

You wouldn’t tell Harry any of that though, not now anyway. Maybe later, when everything didn’t feel so tense. You knew your family wouldn’t be upset forever, they loved Harry almost as much as you did. The joy of having a new baby added to the family would soon override any hurt they were feeling now.

“Harry, whatever they say..this is still happening. I’m still having your baby. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy that makes me.”

The smile he gives you makes your heart flutter, drawing you closer to sit next to him.

“Say that again.”

“What? How happy I am..”

“No, the part before that.”

A giggle works its way up through your chest, a deep blush flushing your cheeks, “I’m having your baby,” You can’t resist, the tune now stuck in your head, changing the lyric slightly to fit, “It’s none of their business.”

“What? S’your family, of course it’s their..oh, right.” He shares in your laughter, melting away any tension that had settled in the room, restoring your confidence that everything would be alright.

As many changes as your body had gone through during pregnancy, one thing that hadn’t changed was Harry’s love for your belly. His obsession had grown with each month, constantly finding reasons to be close to you throughout your days spent together. Usually it was a hand nudged gently against the side of your bump, trying to coax the baby to kick or move for him.

Your child already adored the sound of their dad’s voice, would normally start to wiggle around the second Harry would start talking or singing anywhere around you. The first time it happened, the two of you were attending a birthday party for a friend and Harry was halfway across the room, animatedly telling a story to a group of your mutual friends. It was one of the many reasons you had fallen for him so quickly, his ability to have a room full of people so captivated by a tale you were sure they had heard at least 5 times before.

But he doesn’t seem to care about anyone else’s reactions, his eyes continuously flicking back to gauge your feedback, knowing which parts make you laugh the hardest no matter how many times you’d listened to him tell it. When your mouth falls open with a soft gasp and a hand clutching the side of your belly, he hurries through the ending to weave his way back through the party to you.

“You okay, love? Somethin’ wrong?” The tears falling on your dress don’t match the glowing smile radiating across your face and he’s turning his head amusingly from where he hovers over you.

“Everything’s great, H. Think someone just loves the sound of daddy’s voice.” You take the drink he still holds in his hand and set it on the table in front of you, turning your body to face him and tugging his wrist down to where you had felt the kick moments before, “Say something else now that you’re closer. See if she moves for you.”

“She? You find out somethin’ you wanna tell me, darlin’?”

“No, just a feeling. Haven’t you thought about which you would rather us have?”

He shakes his head no, his eyes bright with a pride you’ve never seen burn so intensely, “As long as you and they end up happy and healthy in the end, s’all that matters to me.”

He scoots his body to sit on the bench next to you, bending his head to speak softly, “Hello, little one. S’daddy. Mummy’s here too. Wanna move around a bit more f’us?”

He rests his head there for a moment, a hand rubbing along the side of your stomach, not caring who at the party may see the two of you or how silly he may look. He looks like a child who’s just been granted his one and only wish when your baby responds, a foot landing against where his cheek is pressed.

“There you are, baby. You kickin’ at me? Cheeky little thing y’are already..just like mummy, huh?” He turns to kiss the spot where the foot had been, ”We’re g’nna have so much fun when you get here, angel.”

Harry watches your feet a lot more closely these days.

You didn't notice it at first. But today as you're coming down the stairs, you catch his eyes watching carefully as he waits for you. One of your hands cradles your bump that seems to be growing daily now, while the other glides along the railing to keep yourself steady.

"Am I wearing mismatched shoes or something?" You lean forward in an attempt to look at your feet over your belly, nearly toppling down the last few stairs. The look on Harry's face would have been comical if it wasn't laced with so much fear as he lunged forward to meet you and help you the rest of the way down.

"Careful!" Even with you settled safely now against his side, his voice is full of worry, "Nothing's wrong with your shoes, honey. Just wanted to make sure you made it down safely, know how clumsy y'are."

"You worry too much, Harry. I would've made it down fine if you hadn't been staring at my feet."

"My girl's carrying my baby..m’allowed to worry about you both. Y'sure I can't convince you to stay home and let me do the grocery shopping this week?"

"No, I wanna go. Last time you forgot the bagels."

"Are you ever gonna forgive me for that?" You're glad to see the fear has fallen away from his face as you both reach the bottom of the stairs together.

"Maybe." You shrug, "Might take a few more kisses though."

"Deal." One of his hands comes to rest warmly on the underside of your belly, the other one still supporting the small of your back as he bends down to place kisses across your face.

A kick from within your stomach has both of you giggling and looking down to where it's pressed between the two of you.

"Are you mad at daddy too, hmm? Already two against one around here, I see. Alright then, baby gets kisses too."

“Harry will you please get up? We only have an hour to get ready and make it to the appointment. I don’t wanna be late!”

He rolls over, intending to pull you closer to him for a morning kiss, an important part of his usual routine. He frowns when he finds you’re already out of bed, digging through drawers of your dresser to find what you need to get ready for the day.

You haven’t noticed he’s awake yet so you keep encouraging him, “C’mon, made you breakfast. It’s an important day!”

“You’re not allowed to do that, y’know.”

“Do what?” You’re only half paying attention, tugging a dress over your head and scowling at your reflection in the full length mirror when it doesn’t fit over your belly. You quickly pull it back off and toss it in the pile you’ve already tried (and failed) to stretch over your growing bump.

“Daddy’s s’posed to make breakfast for mummy while she sleeps in, not the other way ‘round.”

“Well, mommy was too nervous to sleep in so she’s up getting ready, as daddy should be!” You tug one of your maternity shirts from a hanger in your closet and throw it over your head, declaring to yourself that it’ll just have to do. Thankfully it pairs well with the black leggings you’ve already struggled through pulling on. You plop on the edge of the bed, a deep sigh falling from your lips as you look around at the mess you’ve made of your shared bedroom.

“Mummy needs to relax. She looks beautiful in whatever she wears, no matter what day it is.” He rubs a hand along your back, up to soothe over the pinch between your shoulder blades.

“Nothing fits anymore, swear this belly gets bigger by the day. If I find out today you put a set of twins in me, Styles, you are gonna be in so much trouble.”

He throws his head back, a deep rumbling laugh erupting from his chest, “Aww c’mon, lovie. Twins would be so fun! Think we’d get lucky and have one of each? A boy and a girl?” He kisses your shoulder.

He’s pulling you in to rest against his chest now, the fabric of his well worn t-shirt cool and soft on your cheek. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss firmly to the top of your head.

“Just lay with me a minute, hmm? Did you get any sleep last night? Felt you tossing and turning for half of it.”

“Maybe a couple of hours. I was too nervous.”

“You should’ve woken me. Hate the idea of you being awake and nervous alone, honey.” One hand trails up to cup your chin, a thumb smoothing over the tension set in your jaw.

“I honestly don’t know how you got any sleep. I wasn’t alone though, I think I kept the baby up half the night too.” You shift to face him, resting your chin on his chest, seeking the comfort of his face, “Are you okay? You’re not nervous at all?”

“M’fine. What’s to be nervous about? We get to see our baby today, find out what it is. I couldn’t be happier about that.” He brushes a strand of hair softly away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Maybe it’s more excitement than nerves. I just felt..restless. Maybe it’s silly, but I just wanted to look nice today too and none of my good clothes fit me anymore.”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, baby. But now? I’ve never seen anyone look as gorgeous as you look now. S’important to me that you know and believe that as much as I do. I’ll remind you everyday if y’need me to.”

“You really mean that, Harry?”

“‘Course I do. I know this has been new and scary for both of us, and I’m so proud of you. You’ve fallen into this with such ease and grace, already started gettin’ our home ready for our little one. I can’t wait to see you with them when they’re born.”

“You’re gonna be the most amazing dad. Teaching our child kindness and love, reminding them it’s okay to be whatever they choose to be. It’s important to me that you know how much I adore you and seeing you become the dad you were meant to be? It’s gonna be incredible. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

“Me either. Think I’d be miserable if it were anyone else.”

“Nah you’d get used to them eventually. Especially if they were having your baby.”

He laughs again, pulling you closer to smush his lips against your temple.

“Alright, up we get,” He scoots away to push himself up and off the bed, offering you his hands to help pull yourself up, “Let’s go see if our little bub got blessed with your nose or cursed with mine.”

You’re over the moon every time you see Harry’s beaming smile when he passes the black and white sonogram photo now proudly displayed on the refrigerator; your son’s nose a perfect mixture of yours and Harry’s.

#dadathon #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing #dad!harry

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Text

one, two, three.

seonghwa x reader x yeosang

word count: 8k

smut

you had really come to like hanging out with seonghwa’s friends.

at first, he had been apprehensive, his hand rubbing at his neck nervously asking you for the tenth time if you were sure you wanted to meet them.

"seonghwa, of course i do," you whined to your boyfriend, pressing up on your toes to peck his cheek. "why wouldn't i?”

and you suppose, after you'd met them, you'd known why.

they were an odd mix of chaotic and sweet, always thoughtful and polite towards you albeit they drove you crazy. almost to the point of wanting to rip your hair out but you had truly grown to love each and every one of them.

hongjoong was the one who always saved you when the younger ones got out of hand, smacking them on the heads lightly and pushing them away while he shot you a reassuring smile.

yunho was the one who was always able to lift your spirits, noticing right away when you weren't feeling your best; it's like from the moment he met you, he was in tune with your emotions.

san and mingi were the ones you'd, admittedly, create destruction with.

it took one time of peaking your head in their shared room and seeing them beat the shit out of each other to immediately join in, laughing and screaming with them until you were red in the face.

wooyoung was another one of your defenders, though much more vocally than hongjoong; if anyone even looked at you funny, he was on their ass in a minute.

screaming about how they better not mess with you or they'll have have to face the consequences.

jongho was the one boy you thought didn't like you at first. he was slightly cold in his demeanor, smiling politely and bowing his head at you but never trying to initiate conversation.

it wasn't until he had gotten tipsy one night (off a singular wine cooler) that he became a little puppy towards you, going on and on about how nice and pretty you were and that you and seonghwa were the perfect match.

and last but certainly not least was yeosang - not something you ever thought you'd admit, the boy had caught your eye immediately.

there was something about him, his face and his voice and even his hands, just everything about him drawing you in the same way seonghwa did when you first saw him.

and, quite honestly, because of that, you should've expected the events that were to come.

you never understood the concept of having more than one partner, thinking that finding a balance was probably difficult and surely that you'd have to favor one a little bit more.

but the coming months proved that, sometimes, there was more than one person meant for you.

friday, june 19th

the rain was pouring down after your summer class, thunder and lightning crackling through the dark sky and causing you to grow more and more nervous.

seonghwa was usually waiting outside your building every monday and friday night, hating when you took the bus and insisting that you never do.

but a work obligation had him two hours away in a different city, the way he kissed your head and mumbled his apologies over and over making your heart really hurt right now.

you always needed him in this type of weather.

it felt silly and juvenile and even a little embarrassing, to be a full grown woman and terrified of storms; but what wasn't there to be scared about? loud booming noises and weather that had the potential to completely destroy the things in its path.

right now, that thing was you.

the prospect of walking to the bus stop on the other side of campus, getting drenched and whipped with wind one of your worst nightmares. just as you were about to accept your fate, you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket.

your eyebrows furrow when you see yeosang's name on the screen:

don't even think about taking the bus.

your head snaps up as your eyes survey the parking lot in front of you, mouth dropping open and quirking into a smile when you see his familiar black car. you place your books atop your head as you run to the vehicle, ducking your head in and taking in the scent of his car.

it smells just like him, a mix of men's cologne and something distinctly yeosang.

"thank you," you smiled gratefully at him. "i didn't know you were coming."

"seonghwa asked me to get you," he tells you, making your entire body still when he reaches over you. his arm brushes past you as he hums lowly, grabbing the seatbelt and snapping it in before sitting back in his seat.

"i-i could've done that," you told him nervously.

he always did things like that, even in front of seonghwa.

help you in ways where he just barely touches you, like tying up your shoe laces or placing his hand on your waist when you stretch up to grab things on the top shelf.

he only smirks at you, pulling out of the parking lot and making his way back to the house.

"how was school?"

you go on about the last session of your summer class, expressing how grateful you are for it to be over and telling him all about your scary professor. about how he'd call students out for no reason at all, make them read off their test answers and blankly stare at them if they asked any questions.

"i truthfully don't know what he wanted from us," you complained, hands flailing with a pout on your face before you mumble, "fuckin' bruce."

a snort leaves him as he looks over at you, the smirk on his lips causing a blush to creep on your face.

"what?"

"nothing," he says, "you're funny."

a crack of thunder and lightning fills the sky and he watches you flail in your seat, a tiny, surprised squeal leaving your mouth. his eyebrow raises as obvious fear and terror cross your face, your shaky exhale heard throughout the car.

"you scared of thunder?"

"no," you answer immediately, wanting to close your eyes in embarrassment; you couldn't have made that any more obvious.

and with the way he's looking at you, he knows it too, even though he just nods head and smiles softly at you.

"what do you want for dinner? the boys are expecting us to bring shit home so you know the house is probably in chaos."

thirty minutes later when you arrive with ten boxes of chicken, that's exactly what you walk into.

the boys running to the door with a mix of dramatic groans and excited squeals, being suffocated in hugs like you'd been gone for four years and not just four hours.

"stop," you giggle out quietly, finally prying each and every last one of them off you before setting up the food. yeosang was quick to push you out of the kitchen, guiding you over to the tv and telling you to pick something.

you spend the rest of the night eating and watching a marathon of movies, face timing seonghwa and showing him all of the boys sleeping on top of one another.

"they're like a psychotic litter of puppies," the boy says, smiling at you from miles away in his hotel room bed. you giggle in agreement, your eyes moving to the window when the incessant rain and thunder pounds down on the glass.

"still raining?" he asks softly.

your mouth turns into a small pout, nodding your head as you rest your chin atop your knee. he lets out a sigh, his hand running through his hair as his eyes soften.

"i'm sorry i'm not there with you, baby," he says quietly.

and like you're somehow not used to it, the sweetness of your boyfriend and the way he's always so mindful of you, tears spring to your eyes.

"my love, please don't," he begs once he sees them gloss over, pain and sadness creeping into his voice.

"i'm sorry," you sigh out, "i just...i wish you were here."

it feels like seonghwa's heart shatters, his feet threatening to spring up from his bed to pack up his bag and make the two hour ride back home.

"just try to do what we always do," he suggests softly, the white noise speaker and weighted blanket in his room half of the trick in getting you to sleep during these nights.

"and you can always call me. wake me up, i don't care."

"i'm not gonna wake you-" his stern look causes the words to die in your throat, mumbling an "okay," a few seconds before a pleased, almost cocky smile makes its way on his face.

"good, baby," he says and then his eyes quickly turn into something else you're all too familiar with. another method, probably your favorite one, in getting you fast asleep.

"do something else for me now?"

it's in the way his voice drops, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, that has heat building between your legs. has him telling you to go into his room and get on the bed, the command in his voice already so strong and demanding.

he makes you prop the phone up toward you so he can see the expanse of your face, stomach and hips, his voice lowly telling you to do as he says. it's how you end up taking off your shirt, bra and shorts, leaving you panting on the bed with hard nipples and a soaked thong.

"seonghwa," you whined out already, every time you attempt to stick your hand in your underwear met with his firm "stop."

"over them first, baby. you know the rules."

you cry out the second your finger grazes your lace-covered clit, glossy, lustful eyes shooting to look at him watching you through the screen. you're met with the sight of him laying there shirtless, his cock resting on his stomach as he watches you begin to get yourself off.

"i want you," you whine lowly to him, breathing turning shallow as your finger starts to move faster and more purposeful on your throbbing clit. "fuck, seonghwa."

"you're doing so good," he says, voice strained and deep as you watch him take his cock in his hand. "close your eyes for me."

"but i wanna see-"

"close them."

you let out a whimper as you allow your eyes to roam over him, feeling your stomach tighten at the way his hand is slowly stroking himself up and down. the way that should be your hand and he should be the one-

"y/n."

you close them immediately at the sound of your name falling from his lips, your pouting mouth falling open as you feel yourself grow wetter by the second.

"that's my good girl," he says. "how do you feel, love? are your fingers gonna fuck you well?"

a tiny cry leaves your lips as you shake your head.

"why not, baby? what's wrong?"

"they're not yours," you whine. "i want...you to fuck me."

"i can't baby," he grunts out. "as much as i want my fingers in your pretty little pussy."

you bit your lip hard at his words, the small cry blaring through his speakers causing his cock to throb.

"and then i'd be sure to fuck you like the good girl you are."

your glossy eyes flutter open, full of lust and desire as you ask him if you're allowed to finger yourself; the moment you hear his strangled "yes," you moan out at the feeling.

your mind picturing him beside you, his fingers pounding in and out of you, thumb skillfully on your clit as the groans you hear coming from your phone vibrate in your ear.

"how does that feel now, baby?" he asks, "you look so pretty fucking yourself for me."

you feel your legs start to shake, your own hand traveling up to tweak at your sensitive nipple the same way he does to bring you over the edge.

"i wanna come for you," you say, "please let come for you."

and it's at this moment, you should've realized that the door wasn't locked.

but you're so fucked out by your own fingers and seonghwa's voice and how close you are to your release that you don't hear the door open.

you don't hear a quiet gasp leave the intruder's voice nor do you see how they linger in the doorway for a few silent moments.

"come for me baby. come all over your fingers for me and let me hear you be my good girl."

and then like a good girl, your legs tremble as the tight knot unravels and your loud, whiney moans ring through the air.

you don't even think about how loud you're being, truthfully not even caring as pleasure rips through you and you ride out your high on your own hand. you hear the familiar sound of seonghwa releasing shortly after, his grunts and groans of your name carrying out the rest of your orgasm.

once the ringing in your ears stop, the sounds of you and seonghwa's heavy breathing filling the room, you're finally able to open your eyes.

your vision is spotty at first, swearing you see a figure standing a few feet away in the doorway. your body tenses in fear and embarrassment, rubbing at your eyes with the hand not cupping your thong before looking again.

it must've just been a fluke, you think, something weird clouding your vision, because when you look back up, your door is closed and it's just you and seonghwa.

"how do you feel now, baby?" he asks you breathlessly. you turn on your side to see seonghwa's eyes are still closed.

"good," you tell him quietly, almost shyly; you guys have only done this a handful of times and each and every time, it makes you a little embarrassed.

"you did good for me, love," he says, his release on his stomach that would usually be seeping down your legs by now. "i can't wait to fuck you when i get back."

you laugh into your pillow slightly, cheeks warming at his words as you nod your head sleepily.

"ah, did you tire yourself out?" he asks teasingly, feeling his heart ache that he can't clean you up and hold you as you fall asleep.

he can only watch as you succumb to your exhaustion after a few passing moments, his softly spoken "i love you" and "i'll be home soon" humming you to sleep.

you had hoped it was gonna be enough.

that the power of an orgasm brought on by you and your boyfriend would be enough for you to sleep through the stormy night - but a loud crack of thunder rips you from sleep, your body shooting up and your chest heaving in fear.

you immediately reach your hand out to the side, feeling the cold empty sheets and about ready to cry when you remember seonghwa isn't here tonight.

that you're gonna have to sit through the storm all alone and be a big girl - but that's easier said than done.

after what feels like an hour (but was really only fifteen minutes) you throw on a long t-shirt and pad your way into the kitchen. you fill yourself up a glass of water and down the cold liquid, placing the cup in the sink as you grip the counter.

you noticed all the boys had gone into their respective beds at some point in the night, the dark empty room in the apartment lighting up from the chaos and destruction outside.

you feel tears prick your eyes, feeling so stupid for being scared and upset about this.

"you have to calm down," you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself in a sad attempt at comfort. "it's fine. everything's fine. it's just-"

"y/n?"

the familiar deep voice rips you from your distressing monologue, squinting your eyes in the dark to see yeosang making his way over to you hesitantly. he keeps a good distance between you two, looking your body up and down before his eyes fix on (aha) something behind you.

"are you okay?"

it's like the very question causes you to lose it, a tear rolling down your cheek that you're quick to wipe with your wrist.

"yes. no. i don't know," you stutter out quietly. "you're gonna think it's dumb."

he takes your hand and guides you over to the couch, taking a seat next to you before turning to face you.

"try me," he says quietly, his eyes carefully watching your face.

it's then you tell him you're slightly embarrassing fear of storms.

how ever since you were the little, the sounds of heavy rain and thunder have traumatized and disturbed you. how it keeps you up and sends you into a panic, almost nothing able to help you through a bad stormy night.

"almost nothing?" he asks curiously, his eyebrow raised as his head rests in his hand. "what's the one thing?"

you bite your lip nervously, your tooth digging into the sensitive pink skin almost to the point you draw blood.

"so...someone with me, usually helps. like...sleeping with me," you stutter out.

"i usually have seonghwa but now he's not here. and he said i could call him and wake him up, but i don't know. it's not the same. and i don't wanna bother him."

he listens to your rambling carefully, parts of him feeling very conflicted.

because on one side, he wants more than anything to help you. he hates watching you be scared and thinking that you're gonna spend the rest of the night being haunted by your worst fear.

but on another, he's... not sure if it's right, given what he walked in on earlier that night and is pretending not to know about now. how greatly it affected him and how after his body refused to let it go, he had to get himself off in his bedroom.

"i guess that's kind of sad, right?" you laugh out in embarrassment. "i know, it's weird because i'm a literal adult but-"

"it's not sad," he's quick to clarify, "i was just... i don't wanna make you uncomfortable but..."

he sees your eyebrow raise as you look at him, feeling a lump grow in his throat at your soft, wide-eyed stare.

"we can....sleep out here, if you want," he suggests quietly. "i'll sleep on the couch with you."

he wouldn't feel right taking you into his bed but he also wouldn't wanna sleep with you in seonghwa's bed without the boy's permission; he thinks his best friend wouldn't mind the couch, given that you're terrified and need sleep.

"r-really?" you squeak out with a small smile. "i mean don't feel like you have to..."

"i don't," he insists with a small smile. "i want to."

that's how you end up laid out on the couch, yeosang behind you as you watch a random late night movie.

you feel your eyes start to droop, yeosang's lowly spoke question "is this okay?" as his arm casually wraps around your waist. you can only nod sleepily, knowing that there's already not much space given the tight fit of the couch.

another crack of thunder has you jumping in his hold, pushing yourself back on him as a tiny sigh leaves your mouth.

"it's okay," his deep voice drones lowly in your ear, "you're okay."

you hum lowly as you nestle yourself further into his warm body, shimming your hips back as his hand strokes your arm calmingly.

it's taking everything in him not to crack, his stupid male brain remembering the way you were laid out on your bed.

your moans ringing through the air as you rubbed yourself between your shaky legs. he could only imagine how your face looked, eyes squeezed in pleasure and mouth hanging open as your finger slammed in and out of your tight, wet-

"yeosang?" he hears you mumble lowly.

because unless he's harboring the tv remote in his pants, you're pretty sure his dick is rock hard and resting against your ass.

"hm?" he mumbles lowly in your ear, his brain pounding with lustful thoughts he know he should feel ashamed of.

"are... are you good?"

when he's about to ask what you mean, almost teasingly do you rub against his bulge again.

a shaky breath leaves his mouth as he tightens his hold on your waist, embarrassment flooding through him and he thanks god that you can't see his reddening face.

"shit, y/n," he grunts out. "i'm sorry."

"it's okay," you mumble out, feeling ashamed at just how much you like the feel of him pressed up against you. "it happens."

"does it?" he hums, humor and sarcasm in his tone. "because i don't think seonghwa would appreciate it."

you don't say anything but the voice in your head says otherwise, recalling bits and pieces of conversations with seonghwa about potential threesomes and what not when he noticed you eyeing the boy in question.

"would you ever be into that?" he asked you one night.

you had been so embarrassed and flustered by him calling you out, your eyes roaming yeosang's body and hands and flushing at the thought of them on you.

"what?" you asked innocently.

your boyfriend only raised his eyebrow, taking your face in his hand and shaking his head at you.

"you think i'm fucking stupid, baby girl?"

your eyes widened immediately, thinking he was about to be mad or jealous and yell for the first time in your relationship.

"i see the way you look at him," he told you simply.

"it's not like that, seonghwa," you insist, your hand coming out to run through his soft hair. "i just...think he's handsome."

a smirk crosses the boy's face, nodding his head at you before pecking your nose.

"well if you ever wanna...do something, just tell me."

you look at the boy in shock at first, cheeks flushing and core clenching as you ask what exactly he means by something.

"he's my friend, one of my best friends," the boy tells you. "i wouldn't mind sharing what's mine if you wanted to give him a try."

you nearly passed out right on the spot, eyes widening and mind already clouded with some of the fantasies you pictured on lonely nights.

seonghwa taking you from behind as you swallow yeosang's cock, yeosang watching as seonghwa eats your pussy and the boy pushing him aside to get a taste, hearing both of their moans and groans as they release onto your body.

his hand traveled down to your pants, slipping it inside and chuckling lowly when he feels wetness has started to gather.

"you like the sound of that?" he hummed in your ear, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin and causing your breath to become strangled. "you want me to watch my friend make this needy little pussy come?"

"not watch," you whine quietly, spreading your legs further for him as he slowly circles your clit. "bo-both of you."

you can't see the sadistic smile that crosses his face, his finger slipping inside of you and causing to gasp out.

"what you want, you get pretty girl. just let me know when."

"i actually don't think he would mind," you hummed lowly, pressing further into him and moving yourself against him. his quiet groan rips right through your core, spurring on the way you rock back and forth until his hold your waist tightens

"y/n..." he warns lowly.

you turn around to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and blazing down at you like he's trying so hard to keep it together. keep something lustful and brewing at bay.

but now it proves to be nearly impossible, with your eyes looking up at him with a matching expression.

"what are you doing?" he asks you, voice strangled and gruff. "i...i can't-"

"seonghwa said he doesn't mind sharing," you tell him, voice breathy and sweet, "we've talked about it before."

his eyes widen at the confession, unsure if he's more shocked by the fact you wanna do something right now or the fact that you and seonghwa had discussed this before.

something about it still doesn't feel quite right, so immune to the thought of you and seonghwa, that you're seonghwa's and no matter how badly he wanted you, he couldn't have you.

but with the way your breathing has synced, flush against one another's chest and feeling the heat radiating off each other, he feels himself quickly losing it.

feeling himself move closer and closer to you until his lips touch the hot skin of your neck. you whimper at the feeling, arching your neck back so he gets easier access.

it does just the trick, his lips tentatively placing kisses down your hot skin. it causes your stomach to flip, the excitement and fear that comes with having a new man on top of you hitting you all at once.

"i've been wanting to do this for so long," he mumbles into your neck, his hand coming up so his thumb can trace your rapid pulse point. "you're such a pretty little thing and i saw the way you'd look at me."

your cheeks flush in embarrassment at getting caught, knowing you weren't subtle in the slightest but also hoping, by some miracle, he wouldn't catch on.

like in some sort of bold retaliation, you throw your leg over his and grind yourself over his bulge.

"i...couldn't help it," you mumble, your words getting cut off last minute when you feel his his tongue slip out of his mouth. quiet hums leave you as he assaults your neck, licks and light bites and kisses that have you palming him over his pants.

just like seonghwa, you're quick to find out he's bossy - tells you to stop playing and touch his cock before he flips you onto you're back, like that's really some sort of threat.

desperate to see just what he's been hiding, you stick your spit-covered hand down his pants and boxers and bite your lip when you feel his hard, long length.

"oh, god," he mumbles, shutting his eyes at the feel of you stroking him up and down.

it'd be too much in normal circumstances, let alone that just a few hours before, he'd done the same thing to himself after seeing you. that you're right in the living room where anyone could walk out and catch you both.

"you're so good," he grunts out, convinced for most of his life that no one would give him a better hand job than himself.

you seem to prove him wrong, twisting and tugging in all the right ways to have him on the edge of coming after just a few minutes.

and when you politely ask him to do just that for you, your soft quiet voice whispering "come for me," he buries his face in your neck to muffle his moan.

you pull your spit-covered hand out of his pants and smile at him shyly, making your way over to the kitchen on shaky legs.

after washing your hands of him, you make your way back to the couch to see his eyes closed, head resting back on the arm of the couch as his breathing is turned more even.

his eyes pop open when you take your spot in front of him, his arm wrapping around your waist again and pressing against your stomach.

"it's your turn, isn't it?"

"you don't have to," you insist, the throbbing wetness between your legs saying otherwise. you don’t hear him say anything for a few moments, figuring that he's like you in the sense that an orgasm puts him right to sleep.

your eyes are closed for a few minutes, probably would've been able to succumb to sleep if not for the ache in the lower half of your body, when you feel his hand cover you.

you keep your eyes closed but bite your lip, whining lowly and hoping, praying, he's just gonna take control.

"i can't go to sleep knowing you're like this," he says lowly in your ear, rubbing over your shorts and smirking when a low moan leaves your mouth. his hand sneaks in as his finger teases at your slit, breathing sharply when he feels how wet you are.

"jesus christ," he grunts out, sounding genuinely pained. "fuck no."

and with that, his finger slides easily into you and you push yourself back on him again. his finger moves in and out of you steadily, his thumb circling your clit and lowly speaking into your ear.

he tells you how long he's thought about having his fingers in you, how he knew your pussy would be this tight and warm and how if given the chance, he would fuck the life out of you.

"you want that?" he asks lowly before commanding, "tell me."

"yes," you whine out, "yes, yes, yes."

"well, you can't get that," he teases, dropping a kiss to the area where your shoulder and neck meet. "not yet, anyway. so you need to come on my fingers."

just a few seconds later, you do exactly that.

sunday, june 21st

seonghwa gets home early that morning, sneaking in to his room and smiling at the sight of you fast asleep in his bed.

he sheds himself free of clothes and crawls in next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your neck. the movement causes you to stir, moaning sleepily before turning in your boyfriend's hold.

"hwa," you mumble, burying your face in his chest and inhaling the familiar scent of him.

"hi, baby," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i missed you."

"missed you too," you slur tiredly, smiling lazily when you hear his quiet chuckle. your arm is quick to wrap around his waist, pulling yourself closer into him and falling back asleep in the comfort of his arms.

when you both wake a few hours later, the late morning sun streaming through the window, he bends down and pecks your lips.

"how was your weekend, love?"

a flush crosses your face when you think back to the events of friday night, the way you and yeosang fooled around on the couch and he murmured words that you hadn't been able to stop thinking about.

"it was... good," is all you say, knowing your cheeks and eyes are damn well about to give you away.

"but?" he asks lowly.

you let out a quiet huff, shaking your head at how well he knows you.

"i... yeosang stayed with me during the storm." his lips quirk to the side, raising an eyebrow at you as he props himself up on his arm.

"yeah? what happened?" he asks, eyes roaming your face; they don't hold any jealously or anger or insecurity, just a genuine curiosity.

"we... cuddled on the couch," you start off, the boy nodding because, okay yeah, all the boys cuddle with you. that's nothing for you to blush and get shy over.

"but then... i gave him..." it felt weird to confess these things to your own boyfriend, despite the mutual ground you stood on when it came to that.

"tell me, y/n, it's okay," he says softly, his hand moving to your cheek and stroking it softly. "we talked about it, i know."

"i gave him a hand job and he fingered me."

he nods his head, almost like you told him the date and time before a smirk crosses his face.

"yeah?" he hums lowly, "no fucking though, right?"

you immediately shake your head and he smiles proudly, replacing his hand with a pair of lips.

"good," he says after pecking your cheek. "i gotta be there for that."

you bite your lip, nodding your head and feeling excitement rush through you at the thought.

that you get to be with seonghwa without the phone screen in the way, that you'll get to experience yeosang's skilled fingers again and have both of them with you in the most intimate way.

"but for now," he says, pushing you gently onto your back and dipping his head to place kisses over your exposed thighs. "i need to eat this pussy myself.”

wednesday, july 15th

there wasn't a free night for you, seonghwa and yeosang for another three weeks - but once the time finally came, the rest of the boys either at the movies or dinner, seonghwa didn't waste a second.

the three of you were lounging out in the living room all day, your boyfriend and yeosang throwing each other knowing looks like they had discussed the past weekend events without you.

it started when seonghwa mumbled your name ten minutes after san closed the door.

you lifted your head off his shoulder, smiling up at him softly before seeing that familiar look in his eye. it drops ever so slightly, feeling yourself swallow as you remember yeosang had adamantly declined going out with the rest.

"we were thinking," he began, nodding his head toward yeosang like your pussy didn't already sense what was about to come. "you wanna show me what i missed that friday?"

your eyes widen at his words, lips growing dry as you look at both the boys staring at you.

"i-i guess, but i-"

yeosang laughs at your stuttering, seonghwa shooting him a look that immediately has it turning into a fake cough.

"it's okay if you don't," he says softly, "we just thought...it might be fun."

"no, i do," you answer quickly, far too quickly that it causes you to blush. "i just... what do i do? isn't it gonna be kinda weird?"

seonghwa only strokes your cheek, smiling down at you as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

"whatever we tell you to do, love. that's normal, isn't it?"

your eyes widen as you timidly nod, looking at yeosang who's been intently watching you and seonghwa.

he watches the way you fall so comfortably into his touch, how your eyes look at him with so much trust and affection while his show a certain sort of protectiveness in them.

a protectiveness that comes out even more when seonghwa looks at his friends.

"take care of her. if at anytime she tenses or hesitates, stop."

"no shit, hwa," the boy says before smirking teasingly.

he taps on his lap where he's sitting on the chair, legs spread slightly as he leans back cockily.

"now come here, beautiful."

seonghwa rolls his eyes at the boy, patting you on the butt encouragingly and watching carefully as you stumble over.

you stand in front of yeosang a tad unsure, feeling more than ready to continue where you left out a few nights ago but also a little nervous.

with an audience is hard enough but when that audience is your boyfriend?

"let’s show seonghwa how good i made you feel," he says lowly to you, the man’s face turning into a sneer; it'd be in his friend’s best interest not to make this a competition.

you smile softly when you hear your boyfriend scoff, turning around to throw him a wink before straddling yeosang.

his cocky demeanor only grows stronger, gripping your hips as he moves you back and forth over him. you're quick to take over, looking at him as your teeth dig into your bottom lip.

"there you go, baby," he encourages before grabbing you by the jaw and forcing you down. "that's how it all started, right? because you couldn't stop grinding your ass all over my cock."

your breath falters at his words, face flushing but increasing your speed slightly.

he stares down at your lips, wanting so badly to take your mouth and allow his tongue to explore it. he looks to seonghwa who's just sitting on the couch, watching your shorts-covered ass grind back and forth skillfully.

"can i kiss her?" yeosang asks gruffly; the man only shrugs, nodding his head toward your figure.

"why are you asking me?"

so when yeosang asks you, eyes deep and dark as they look into yours, you're the first to make the move.

slamming your lips on to his and moaning into his mouth when his hands immediately go to grab your ass. his tongue slips right through, swallowing your moans as he moves his hand up your shorts to squeeze and knead your skin.

"i know she's soaked right now," you hear seonghwa say, breaking the kiss to turn around and see him sitting there in his shirt and boxers.

your lips are red and slightly puffy, yeosang's assault on your mouth making you look extra pretty. seonghwa gives you a reassuring look, quirking his eyebrow as if to say 'should we go on?'

and when you eagerly nod your head, a smirk crosses his face; before he can say anything, yeosang pulls his hands out of your shorts.

"that true, y/n?"

you lick over your lips slowly, looking him up and down before you nod your head.

it causes yeosang to spring up from his seat, grabbing you so your legs are wrapped around his hips as he walks over to throw you down on the chaise of the couch.

you land with a surprised squeal, watching as he shoves his pants down in one go. he bends and slowly drags your shorts and thong off, looking at your underwear in satisfaction.

he balls up the underwear and throws it towards seonghwa, eyes trailing every inch of your body with a lustful expression.

"you were right," the boy hums, trailing his finger in between your thighs. "good girl is all wet and ready for us."

you can't see the way seonghwa is twirling your lace around his finger nor can you see the outline of his cock protruding in his boxers. you can only focus on yeosang trailing his fingers up and down your slit, circling your wet hole and causing you to whine out his name.

"hear that, hwa?" the boy says, humor and amusement in his tone. "sounding like a needy little bitch."

your eyes roll back and whether it be your degradation kink kicking in or the way his fingers brushes over your clit, you don't know. but when you mumble a "please," you hear seonghwa tell yeosang to stop teasing.

"is this better then?" yeosang hums lowly, sliding two fingers in you quickly and placing his tongue on your clit.

it's a move that completely throws you off, something between a moan and scream leaving your mouth. you throw your arms back to hold onto the couch, lifting your hips up and grinding against his face in an attempt to feel more of him.

"answer him, baby," seonghwa demands, his head hung back as he jerks himself slowly.

and so, of course, you do as he says. cry out a mantra of “yes.” as his tongue flicks over you skillfully and his fingers curl up into you.

"oh, my god," you screech, one hand leaving the couch to fall into his hair.

you pull and twist at the strands, digging his face further into you that only seems to encourage him. you feel your legs start to shake, chest heaving up and down as a powerful orgasm is about to flood right through you.

the boy pulls back and wipes his face just before you come, your face twisting into one of absolute frustration and devastation until you see seonghwa's figure looming over you.

"hi, love," he says, bending down before he wraps his hand around your throat. "you like being quite the little whore, don't you?"

you lick your lips as a pout forms on your lips, disappointment flooding through you as your pussy aches from having your orgasm taken away.

"s-seonghwa, please."

"please what?" he asks, tightening his hold ever so slightly as he slams his lips on yours. "please let you be a little whore?"

you look at your boyfriend, wondering if it'd be in your favor to nod and fully accept this role - if being a little whore means you get to come, then you certainly don't mind it.

"because baby girl, if that's the case," he says lowly, taking you by your hips and flipping you over so you're on all fours. "then we'll fuck you like one."

you whimper and whine pathetically, the cool air on your wetness doing absolutely nothing to help the ache. it just makes it worse, looking back at the two men with raging cocks and dark stares and nodding your head desperately.

"please," you say, eyes moving between both of them. "yes. i want to make both of you come."

seonghwa smiles and brushes your hair lovingly, placing a kiss on top of your head before looking at yeosang.

"me first," he says, standing behind you as he lines his cock up with your hole. "let her suck you, she's fucking amazing."

when seonghwa enters you with a snap of his hips, yeosang immediately juts himself into your mouth. you cry out around his cock, balancing yourself on one arm as you lick yeosang up and down. twist your hand on the parts your mouth doesn't reach and eagerly muffle your moans around him.

"always so tight, my love, holyfuck," you hear seonghwa say behind you,

his hands digging into your hips as he pounds into you from behind. you moan out at his words, making sure to look yeosang in the eyes as you circle your tongue around his tip.

"jesus christ," yeosang mumbles, your eye contact and tongue and the way your body is jutting forward from seonghwa fucking into you some of the hottest shit he's ever seen.

you prove him wrong all but five seconds later, taking his cock fully in your mouth as you bob your head up and down with vigor.

"you love this don't you baby," seonghwa grunts out behind you, "having me fuck you while you suck him off."

if you didn't have a mouth full of cock, you'd be your obedient, truthful self and moan out a mantra of yes, yes, yes.

but you're so intent on sucking yeosang, thinking back to all the times you thought about this very moment.

being taken from behind by one while you sucked off the other. hearing their groans and grunts bounce off one another as they use your body for their own pleasure.

you know seonghwa's close by the way his grunts grow louder, hips becoming more sloppy in his movements and him asking you on more time if you like being their whore.

when you push your hips back on him, disconnecting your mouth from yeosang to let your loud moan ring free, you feel him spill his release into you. it makes you feel warm and full, wondering if you're about to feel the same exact thing on your face and really be a mess tonight.

the second seonghwa pulls out of you, slapping your throbbing clit for good measure before he makes his way around to, yeosang pulls himself from your mouth and eagerly makes his way behind you.

"be gentle," seonghwa warns the boy, grabbing his arm and tightening his hold ever so slightly. "she's gonna be sensitive."

yeosang only narrows his eyes at the boy challengingly, bending down and taking your pretty face in his veiny hand.

"do you want that, y/n?" he asks, letting his thumb drag over your bottom lip before sticking his finger in your mouth. "do you want me to be gentle?"

seonghwa rolls his eyes at his friend's approach, shaking his head and resisting the urge to tell him to fuck off purely out of selfish intent.

you also shake your head no, telling him to fuck you as he pleased and yeosang does just that.

he pushes you on your back and puts your legs up on his shoulders, spreading you like a feast and pounded his throbbing cock into you.

the both of them are different in length and girth but seem to fit you so well. you stretch perfectly, filled up so well by them and feeling every ridge and thrust with immense pleasure.

"holyshit this pussy," yeosang grunted, seonghwa smirking in satisfaction because after all, you were still his girlfriend and it sent a strange sense of pride through him.

that's why he rests your head on his lap and fondles your chest, palming your nipples and watching as your face twisted into one of pleasure.

it only took five flicks of yeosang's fingers on your clit for you to completely fall apart, spreading your legs and yelping when one of the most intense orgasms destroys your body.

you’re a shaky, moaning mess, yeosang's hips snapping rapidly into you as seonghwa bends down and silences your mouth with his.

the both of you took some time to catch your breath, yeosang pulling out of you with a curse and placing a kiss to your leg.

you looked up at seonghwa who's hands were in your sweaty hair, roaming over your face to see if they had gotten too much. if their words and the way they lost control inside of you was suddenly taking an effect.

you only grabbed the back of his neck and tugged him down, your lips meeting with fervor as he smiles into the kiss. he slips his tongue in before pulling back, looking down at you lovingly as he fixes another sweaty strand of hair.

"you okay, baby?" he asks, "you did so fucking good for us."

you nod your head with a lazy smile, stretching out your legs tiredly. the both of you turn to yeosang who was still looking dazed and boneless on the couch.

you giggled into seonghwa's arm, feeling his lips press a kiss against your head.

"he's not used to you," he hums lowly.

"well, he better," you say, yeosang snapping open one eye as a smirk crosses his lips.

saturday, october 2nd

the sexual part was easy. falling into the motions of all of your desired roles and positions that you liked.

yeosang was amazing with his fingers, seonghwa was amazing with his tongue and either of them being inside you was guaranteed a good time.

but it was after the sex where you all felt... hesitant.

at first, it had been awkward.

yeosang not knowing what to do when seonghwa did all his normal aftercare, cleaning up between your legs and brushing your hair and asking a million times if you were okay or needed anything; it had surprised him, honestly, the level of care he put into you afterward.

but it also surprised him that he found himself waning to do that.

he wanted to stay after, have you in his arms or on his chest with seonghwa on the other side of you. he wanted to see you outside the bedroom, go on dates with you and chastely kiss you and act like a boyfriend the way seonghwa did.

it wasn't until you initiated the first conversation that really set everything in motion.

it started after nearly two hours of swapping positions, riding yeosang as seonghwa jerked himself off before he couldn't take it anymore and sat you on his face.

they had gotten better at sharing, dirty looks and snide comments still made that were more often than not teasing.

after this particular time, however, you were exhausted. you were just so exhausted and wanted both of them by your side tonight.

"can you stay," you softly asked yeosang. "i... want you both tonight."

the two boys looked at one another before shrugging because the rule had quickly become what y/n wants, y/n gets.

you spent the night in between the both of them, your hand intertwined with seonghwa's while your head rested on yeosang's chest.

when the two boys woke before you the next morning, they had looked at each other before looking down at you and knew it felt right.

not particularly between them, though they didn't mind it, but just the dynamic as a whole. both of them loving you and caring for you and only wanting what's best for you - and if that was both of them, then that's what it was.

because the further you got into your relationship, the more you saw just how much you needed both of them.

you needed seonghwa for certain things and you needed yeosang for certain things.

on nights you were feeling particularly vulnerable, you still wanted seonghwa. if a storm was hitting or you were coming down with a cold, you liked the familiar warmness of seonghwa.

but on an intellectual level, talking out your feelings and getting stuff out in the open, you and yeosang clicked.

you had the same personality, liked the same things, would sometimes even finish the others sentences and be able to know exactly what the other person was thinking.

you also found that innocent little ways of affection, you liked with yeosang. liked the way your hands fit together and the way his strong arms wrapped around your waist.

the other boys had noticed the change almost immediately, raising their brows at the way yeosang would cuddle you from behind on the couch while seonghwa just sat off to the side unbothered.

they weren't deaf either, hearing the boys muffled moans mixed in with yours - so naturally, it had been san to discuss the elephant in the room.

"so like... are you three all a thing now? and if so, how do i get in on this?"

you, yeosang and seonghwa let out loud laughs, the latter boy flicking his forehead and smiling when san let out a loud cry.

"ow! what was that for!"

"for being a perv," he sneered, pushing the boy off the couch so he can sit next to you and yeosang. you moved so your head rested on his lap, your feet on yeosang at he trailed his hand slowly up and down his leg.

eventually, everyone had gotten used to the new normal. had gotten used to seonghwa and yeosang caring for you in the same way, watching their eyes look at you with a matching twinge of love and lust in their eyes.

you and yeosang are now in his bed, giggling and teasing each other over a stupid tv show when you see seonghwa come in with a smile. he smirks when he sees yeosang's hands holding you hostage, your wrists above your head as your red in the face from laughing.

"don't fuck with our girl too much," seonghwa said with a smile, bending down to peck your cheek before snaking his way in bed.

you spent the rest of the night laughing with them, writhing under their hold as they tickle and nip at you.

and when you guys go to bed a few hours later, your drowsy, warm body in the middle of both of them, the thunder rumbling outside is a pleasant reminder of the night this all started.

(part 2)

#richboy au #aha just kidding #unless #seonghwa smut #yeosang smut #ateez smut #poly ateez

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syinisuga · 4 years

Text

Begin Again [MinYoongi]

Pairing : Yoongi x Reader

Word count : 5.2K

Genre : Fluff and Angst

Description : Friends to lovers, Long Distance relationship, Lovers to (?)

Summary : when you thought the friendship you once had with him died away after one silly mistake, and you thought you would never have again what you lost;

But it blossoms back unexpectedly stronger and is slowly growing to be something more beautiful than you ever had

"I've been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does is break and burn, and end;

But on a Wednesday in a cafe i watched it Begin Again"

--------------------✨📖✨---------------------

It was the start of a new year and you weren't particularly happy about being moved up a few classes into an entirely new class with relatively new students you haven't personally met yet. You were still grateful for your good results in the past year to have you land in such a good class. In all honesty though, you did miss your friends from your old class, all of them being scattered in the back classes however changed your mind about being thankful that you're at least in a better one. The first few days of getting used to the classes went by rather slowly as you were listening to the introductions of the other students and teachers half mindedly, till around your 4th day into the classes that is.

You were randomly seated in the Chemistry lab by the teacher as she familiarised herself with the rest of the class. Not paying much attention you were spacing out, resting your chin on your palm, tapping away at your cheek.

" Um, hey there"

The voice from the stool next to you spoke. You turned your head to the direction of the voice, being met with warm brown eyes looking right at you. He had soft black hair, eyes slightly puffy as if he hadn't slept well the night before, lips curled up in a slight smile as he looked at you.

"Oh, hello"

you answered, trying not to sound overly shocked at the first human interaction you've had in this new class.

"I'm yoongi, what's your name?"

"I'm y/n, nice to meet you Yoongi"

"So what are your interests? What do you like to do y/n? Any hobbies?"

It definitely took you by surprise when this boy you've never really met before was suddenly making an interest to get to know you more. Something about him felt raw and not shy but in a good way.

"Well i really love listening to music and i do indulge in art as well. Spend most of my time listening to songs while drawing. Draw the mood of the song you know?"

"Damn, haha you sound kinda like me. Not tryna be cheesy or anything but i love listening to music too, I'm shit at drawing tho, i can barely draw a stickman"

Both of you exchanged a little chuckle at his open confession about himself. And even though it had only been a few minutes of words between the two of you, you felt at that moment that he wasn't like the other boys who popped up to talk to you first. This one genuinely seemed interested in you just to make a new friend.

-----------------------🤝------------------------

"Yo y/n you wanna ditch PE and hang out in the library? The new Resident Evil movie came out we can watch"

"You know what, yeah let's yeet"

You don't know how it went from spending lunch times together, to skipping the most boring subjects to hang out and hide. It'd been a few months since you started your new friendship with Yoongi, and by now you were known as the inseparable duo, funny enough both of you became the class representatives. Somehow you two got closer and closer each day, the more you talked the more you felt like you've known each other for years, yet some part of you knew that there was more to Yoongi than he was showing to you.

On a particularly slow day at your classes, you and Yoongi had pre planned to sneak out to hang out at your usual spot in the library. Sitting at the back of the library the both of you laughed at a joke Yoongi made about how almost the whole school shipped the both of you.

"You know y/n, I envy you"

"Oh well, I know I'm fabulous" you playfully said as you flipped your hair back, earning a little grunt and a harmless eye roll from Yoongi.

"It's not that you loonatic, i envy you...cause you have such a nice relationship with your family"

His sudden statement caught you slightly off guard but you gave him a look, clearly eager to know the reason behind his words. Flashing half a smile towards you he starts his story.

"Growing up for me was, well, it was an experience. I grew up under the care of foster parents who constantly reminded me that my parents gave me away cause i was a burden, all my life that's what i was told. Never had a father figure or mother figure to help shape my emotions? Guess that's why I don't show it if I'm sad or depressed, which is actually most of the time"

he looks down at his hands and chuckles softly.

"But you know something y/n? Being with you makes me feel like I could be myself, like I don't have to be afraid of being judged. And that's why I wanted you to know the truth but i understand if you don't wanna get involved or-"

You cut him off by placing your hand on his, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Yoongi, i want you to know that I'll always be here for you and you can talk to me about this anytime okay? You're my best friend now! And I'm hoping I'm yours too?" You ask in a more playful tone making yoongi giggle.

"Of course you are"

"Good! Cause i come in a package deal of crackhead and supportive as well as a no return contract"

"Sounds perfect to me bestie"

-----------------------😚------------------------

Over 2 years had passed and the whole highschool down to the teachers were sure the two of you were in a relationship, as everyone saw the two of you being practically stuck together almost all the time. Yoongi and your friendship became stronger than ever since that day he decided to open up to you. It became a regular thing where you'd confide in each other for emotional comfort as well as motivation and support. Not missing the fact that your level of crackhead together had become an all time high.

Your finals and exams blasted through and you had spent all your study weeks with Yoongi in the library. As sketchy as it was you and your best friend actually did sincere studying. And as it would, your hard work together paid off earning the both of you high marks in your finals. The two of you didn't miss to make a trademark crackhead scene at the receiving of the scroll ceremony when you accidentally tripped on your shoelace and Yoongi cracked up laughing and clapping before helping you up. The two of you celebrate with drinks and a lot of food that night and Yoongi paid for everything to make it up to you for laughing when you fell.

You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror before heading out to your highschool's hall. It was your graduation party but more importantly to you it was Yoongi's birthday. Coincidentally the two events had fallen on the same day, and what better opportunity than to get dressed up to party at your graduation ceremony together. It had been a heck of a ride these last two years, and you were going to make sure this last school event would be memorable.

Upon arriving you scan around the hall of students in search of the familiar face.

"Looking for me?"

He makes his presence behind you known by clearing his throat. You turn around to give your usual playful comment back but the words were caught in your throat as your gaze landed on your best friend. He was dressed smart, in a suit that looked like it was custom made to fit him, his hair in a side part and bangs neatly framing his face. You were so used to seeing him in his casual hoodies and ripped jeans that seeing him in formal wear made you choke on your words.

Too focused on getting your senses back in check, you don't notice how Yoongi's train of thought was stopped dead in its tracks as he watched you turn around to face him. He never pictured his crackhead of a best friend in something other than t-shirts and track pants. Seeing you in a dress that hugged your figure in all the right places and taking in the sight of you, with your makeup and hair all done to suit the dress you were wearing nearly made him pass out from how he was holding his breath to admire you.

Clearing the silence between the two of you, Yoongi speaks up first.

"Well well, you don't completely look like the satanic spawn of hot cheetos and depression today. You actually look pretty good"

Smirking a little smile you bite back at his comment.

"Well same to you too Mr. I'm a millennial emo teen. You actually look, presentable today"

The two of you exchanged a playful giggle and assumed your seats at your class tables as the ceremony went on.

You don't see the small glances Yoongi takes in your direction, the thoughts gushing through his mind about how you looked at the moment and cursing himself for not realising your features sooner. He admired the way you had chosen to dress up today, seeing the way you had styled your hair so your curls would frame your face, the way you had done your makeup in a more natural looking way that he thought suited you perfectly. Yoongi didn't remember when the unlabeled feelings for you came but the longer he looked at you the more he was starting to put a name to the feelings he had. So much so that he had completely spaced out in his thoughts of you like that he didn't realise you were speaking to him.

" -don't you think so Yoongi?"

"I'm sorry what did you say? The umm, the music is so loud"

"I saaaaiiddd it's beginning to get a little dull at this graduation ceremony, we need a little surprise, don't you think?"

"Surprise?? What kind of surprise?"

Flashing a smile his way you get up and walk towards the front of the hall where the ceremony host was finishing up their ending speech. Whispering into the host's ear, he gives you the microphone and you confidently stride to the front. But you accidentally go too close to the speaker and it lets out an unpleasant squee, making you move back and away a little. You look up and around finding your best friend's eyes looking back at you giggling at the scene that just occured.

"Well that's one way to get everyone's attention" you chuckle earning muffled chuckles and words from the hall.

"So firstly congrats to everyone on graduating y'all did it. But that's not why I'm up here right now. Today is a special day for someone, and since it's the last day we'll all be gathering I wanted to make this memorable for him. So everyone I would like to wish out here, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIN YOONGI"

you started to sing happy birthday and the rest of the hall joined in singing with you.

In all this happening, Yoongi could only focus on you, the way you just boldly got up to sing out loud and wish him Happy Birthday in the most "you" way possible. So he didn't know if it was the moment or if it was his unlabeled feelings overflowing for you, that he got up and walked towards you as the song was ending. He couldn't tell what came over him at that moment but he knew for sure he wasn't going to stop what he was about to do next. Cupping your cheeks in his palms, he leaned in, pressing his soft lips to yours. Kissing you with deep feelings overtaking his mind. The moment his lips touched yours he knew what those unlabeled feelings were, it was Love.

You couldn't process fast enough that your best friend was striding towards you with a goal, a desire. And you surely didn't expect for him to suddenly kiss you. Registering the feeling of his lips on yours, your eyes closed on their own as if on automatic response. You sank into the feeling of his lips, and it was then you felt the spark that ignited your own unlabeled feelings for Yoongi. You had definitely asked yourself countless times before if what you were feeling for Yoongi was more than just friendship. On the countless nights he had cried on your shoulder or when you cried on his, on the many occasions where you were both always partners in crime, you would always glance at Yoongi and wonder what more could there be to the feelings between you.

As the both of you slowly pulled away from each other a roaring sound of cheers erupted as it seemed to be that the two of you were the last ones to know you two were actually in love with each other. Taking your hand in his, Yoongi and you ran out of the hall that night knowing well where the two of you stood from that moment on.

-----------------------❤️------------------------

"No babe I think you should definitely take the opportunity to study there, I know it's far but it'll be really good for you, plus it's something you really like! It'll take some time for you to get used to the new place but i know you'll fit right in. In fact i know your wack ass would stand out"

You giggled at his comment but you wholeheartedly took his motivation and advice. But the question and thoughts still lingered in your mind as you heard Yoongi chuckle on the other end of the phone.

"But Yoongi, this means we'd be in a long distance relationship, with you going off to study in the opposite direction and all. Even our breaks don't match Yoongi.. what'll we do" the worrying tone in your voice didn't go unnoticed by Yoongi as he answered you in a calm reassuring tone.

"It'll take some work, but i know we can get through this okay? We'll make it, we can make it. I love you" you smiled at Yoongi's voice uttering the sweet words of love as you felt yourself calm your thoughts.

"I love you too Yoongi. Well then, keep me company while i pack?"

"You bet"

It had been a few months since you started dating, and honestly it didn't feel any different from when the two of you were in your phase of friendship, everything was going relatively smooth apart from the little fights and misunderstandings you had now that you were a couple. Sometimes you sit to think to yourself if moving into a relationship with Yoongi was the best choice, it would feel as though sometimes he would act differently and not like he always would but you just shake of the thoughts. You just figured with all these future college studies and intakes coming about that he was just as stressed as you were. You assured yourself that the two of you would be alright and that you'll always have each other.

A few more months pass and the two of you have already started your college lives. Yoongi being in a campus almost 8 hours away from you with minimal transport for him to even go home let alone plan to meet you. It was going smoothly, settling into orientation and getting to know the layouts of the campus well, meeting new friends and truly taking in your next step in education. You and Yoongi would exchange day to day text messages about how orientation and the first days of classes went.

All well and good till Yoongi's texts became slower and less frequent, he would always say that he's busy with his friends there, or straight up not giving a response at all. You became more and more fearful at how this long distance thing was going to work out for the two of you.

28th Tuesday

[12:27am] hey Yoongi! I hope you had a great day, I miss you and hope you sleep well, love you!

[08:40am] Hey Babe, good morning! I'm in class now, wishing we could skip like old times haha, hope you have a great day! Text me soon

[6:48pm] Hey i just got back to my dorm after classes, it was super fun! How was your day??

[8:11pm] Yoongi?? Are you okay? Are you busy babe?

[8:24pm] I miss youuuuuuuu :(

[10:16pm] Yoongi :(

You tossed your phone to the side of your bed as you felt your tears well up, why was he suddenly avoiding you? Is he okay?? Did he get hurt? Your thoughts were spiraling, getting messier till you heard the familiar ping from your phone. You scurried to your phone to see Yoongi's name pop up on the screen. Your smile quickly faded, replaced by disappointment at his reply.

[10:43pm] Hey, was busy with friends today, going to bed now ttyl <3

You frowned and wouldn't let him go this time. The days of short texts to unreplied texts and this is how he replies now? In a fit of fury you call him.

"Hello?-"

"Yoongi what's wrong? You haven't been replying to my texts as usual are you okay??"

"Mmh I'm fine, just busy with classes and my new friends y/n"

"Well I can't accept that answer Yoongi, I'm busy with classes and friend's here too but I take the time so why can't you?"

"Hey it's not that big of a deal y/n, we're in new environments now and it'll take me some time to settle in"

"Yoongi surely you have at least 5 minutes a day to text me??"

"Yeah of course I do, I just texted you didn't i?"

"That short ass reply was what you call a text Yoongi? It really sounds like you're avoiding me"

"You know what y/n I don't have time for this right now I'm tired"

"No Yoongi, I haven't talked to you properly in days come on don't you miss me Yoongi?"

"To be honest I've been enjoying the new company here that's I haven't missed you much"

"What do you mean Yoongi? You don't think of me?"

"Not all the time no, i have other things to think about here y/n i have new responsibilities here I can't be thinking about you all the damn time, just be happy I texted you back"

"Are you threatening to not text me anymore Yoongi? Is that what you're saying? You don't wanna talk to me anymore?"

"Oh god for fucks sake y/n stop being so clingy alright? Just grow up a little!"

The sound of his voice in heightened frustration made you choke on your words, you silenced yourself as his words rang loud in your head.

"You know what y/n I don't think this will work out, I'm going to get even busier and this will just be in the way of it all"

"Yoongi…"

"I'm sorry y/n but clearly this distance is proving that we won't work out"

"Are you... breaking up with me Yoongi?.."

The pain in your voice and the soft shaky exhale doesn't go unnoticed by Yoongi. Yoongi takes a deep breath, realising he spoke too fast in frustration. As much as he did feel for you this distance was tearing you apart and Yoongi didn't want to believe it but it was the truth. He spoke softer this time giving his side of his explanation.

"Y/n, you've been nothing but amazing to me, but I realize that we were more compatible as friends, I mean think about it, we've had so many petty fights that we never had before we dated. Our growing college life will further hinder our relationship. I don't want to hurt you like this by not giving you the love and attention you deserve. I'll always love you y/n, just not as more than friends I suppose"

You couldn't believe what was happening right now, your world felt like it was crashing down on you hard and fast, you could feel the sharp stinging in your chest from how your heart was breaking the more reality hit you. Yoongi's words had reason to them, but you were still in a state of confusion. Why could you make time for Yoongi but he couldn't for you? Maybe it's because the two of you are pursuing different fields of studies? Maybe he really had better things to do? Yoongi didn't want to hurt your feelings by making you feel abandoned so he was in fact abandoning you? No? But he said he'll still love you?? Your head was spinning a bunch of thoughts ran through your head.

"Okay Yoongi...if that's what would be the best for us..then okay"

"Don't worry okay? We'll still text as usual, talk when we can okay? I won't let you go, you're still my best friend y/n"

You didn't know if his words would be comforting enough, but at that moment you took what you had and calmed your thoughts for now.

"Okay Yoongi.."

"Good, I have an early schedule tomorrow. I'll talk to you later okay? I'm going to bed now. Goodnight y/n"

"Good night Yoongi"

-----------------------💔------------------------

As it will, Yoongi and you slowly drifted apart. You would often see his social media updates about how he was actively participating in clubs, and how he had taken up new responsibilities, going to camps and hosting events at his institute and he definitely seemed to be doing well. You on the other hand fell more and more at war with your emotions, it didn't hinder your studies. Thankfully you could keep those two apart. But whenever it got a little too quiet you'd think of him, the days in highschool when you were inseparable. You missed his laugh, his endearing way of calling you the most heinous nicknames. You definitely missed his comforting arms, his words of encouragement when you were down, you wished nothing more that in this moment you were crying to him instead of because of him.

You couldn't believe that you were sitting here, broken and feeling alone by the guy that made his way into your life, and had now made his way out in the most painful way possible. You were left there clueless and confused. Did he do it for you? Was it the right thing? Did he really think of you? Why was this happening? What would have happened if you didn't date? Would things be different? Would your best friend have stayed? All these questions playing through your mind, countless nights you spent crying yourself to sleep. Thinking of how you felt almost betrayed, you cursed at yourself for sending texts to him that were only left on read or replied with a simple "I'm busy, text you later".

Slowly days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as you hadn't spoken much to Yoongi. You became stone hearted from all that had happened and slowly you got back into yourself. You were more and more active in your college life and you were growing to be better at controlling your emotions. Sure some little things remind you of him now and then, but it was much easier by now to brush his thoughts off. As sadly as your situation was you learned to move with it and not let it consume you. Every now and then you'd see Yoongi piston updates on his progressively active life and you'd feel happy for him, you wondered if he ever felt the same for you when he saw your updates on how well you were doing.

----------------------🍃-------------------------

It had been a total of 4 years since everything happened, you were on a roll and you had graduated college. You had a few job applications pending and you were more stable with your life by now. All the questions you once had were stored in a box collection dust in the far corner of your mind.

It was a relaxing Saturday evening, you were in your apartment lounging on your bed. As you were chatting away with your friends a familiar ping aroused from your phone. The name that popped up on the screen made your heart heavy and you breathing shallow, a true ghost from your past…

"Yoongi 🥀"

Your screen read. Taking a deep breath you opened the chat.

[9:57pm] Hey y/n it's been a long time… are you free tonight? Can I call you?

You didn't know what exactly to think right now. Every cell in your brain telling you not to. That you shouldn't give into him again, and that you should just talk to him over text no matter what it was. But your heart was screaming for him, the familiar feeling of longing for him returning in a massive tsunami, washing over your thoughts. You took a deep breath to centre your thoughts and decided you'd listen to him and talk to him again.

[9:59pm] Hey Yoongi, yeah I'm free to talk.

As soon as the message was read by him, your phone rang. You took one more deep breath and answered the call.

"Hello y/n, how are you?"

You cursed in your head at how much you missed his voice, the way he spoke to you at this moment had a hint of the same longing you had for him.

"Hey..Yoongi, I'm good. How are you?"

"I've been good too.. congratulations on graduating"

"Thanks Yoongi, congratulations on graduating too.."

"Thanks…"

The silence that fell had you both reflecting on everything that happened and how fast it all went by. The box of questions in your mind burst out once again whereas Yoongi on the other hand was feeling guilt and hate towards himself for everything that he put you through. Little did you know that these last few months Yoongi was hit with the hard realisation that he had lost not only his best friend but the person he cared about the most. His family certainly did not improve and the one person who was there for him when he needed it, he had left broken hearted and abruptly once he found a new escape. Yoongi was slowly flooded with memories of you as he neared his own college graduation. He remembered your highschool graduation and how he felt for you there in that moment of time. He spent a few nights crying at the realisation that he had thought of what's best for you but didn't think of how you felt and how he had left things between the two of you.

"Why Yoongi…."

Was all you managed to say out loud before your emotions caved in. Understanding what you were asking he answered.

"I was so caught up in the new environment of growing up and moving on that I did what I thought was the best to not hurt you...but I didn't think far enough that doing so will indeed hurt you.. and I wasn't there for you like i was supposed to. It took a hard hit to my head to realise that I was wrong y/n… you were always there for me and stupidly I made this mistake… I thought i was thinking of the best for both of us, when in fact i was thinking of myself.. I was selfish and I realised that…so many things reminded me of you y/n, the clouds, the sun, the sight of roses, the smell of hot cheetos.."

You giggled a little at his last comment earning a little muffled one from Yoongi.

"I understand if you hate me for what I did to you y/n… and I don't know if it'll ever be the same between us again.. but I'm willing to try to bring back what we had... if you're willing to give me a chance…"

You exhaled softly before letting out everything that you've been feeling.

"I don't hate you Yoongi, I never could and I never will. You're everything to me Yoongi and I was just really hurt by what you did and how you ended things. So many thoughts went through my head and I won't even talk about how much you made me cry….you dipshit" the playful cursing nickname made Yoongi chuckle a little, slowly making him feel reassured at the directions of the conversation.

"I'm willing to give us a chance Yoongi..and you're right, I don't expect it to be the same as what we had, I just hate that I lost my best friend.."

"I know..i understand that..and I'm sorry..for everything"

"It's okay Yoongi, I'm sorry too… maybe I should've been more understanding…"

"Hey… do you.. wanna hang out Tomorrow night?"

"You wanna hang out?"

"Yeah, i wanna see you and catch up with you"

"Sure Yoongi that'd be nice"

"Great!! I'll meet you at the café by our old highschool?"

"Sure Yoongi, sounds great"

"Right then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow Yoongi"

You could hear the smiles in each other's voices as you both bid goodnight and hung up the phone. You didn't know what it was exactly but you knew just from that phone call that everything was going to be alright. You felt like you breathed much easier now, your mind much lighter. Yoongi felt the same, he was smiling more now filled with the excitement of meeting you again tomorrow after years.

-----------------------✨------------------------

You made sure to check yourself out in the mirror a few more times before heading towards the café. You had chosen to wear a simple yet stylish outfit, your hair tied back in a low loose ponytail, your short hairs framing your face. You were nervous yet excited to be reunited with your best friend again. And as you approach the café, there he was. Standing outside the door of the café waiting for you. The now slightly more mature looking, dark fluffy haired man, wearing a long black coat was looking just as nervous and excited as he was looking down at his feet.

"I didn't know you needed glasses to see now"

your voice made him turn his head fast in your direction. The moment his gaze landed on you, it felt like highschool all over again. The way you looked standing there, just centimetres away from him. He took in your slightly matured face yet he told himself that you hadn't changed one bit.

"It's official, you're old Yoongi"

He chuckled and playfully scoffed at your comment.

"Well at least i don't dress like the satanic spawn of depression and hot cheetos"

"Sure thing Mr. I'm still a millennial emo teen"

The two of you laughed, and the world seemed to slow down. The feeling that nothing ever really changed between the two of you was knowing, however this time something felt entirely different. Both of you could feel it for sure. It was the feeling of a bond stronger than both friendship and love. You didn't know what the feeling was exactly, all that you knew was that you're never losing each other again. All this while you've been sitting there watching the feelings you had burn and crash in the worst way possible, but today right here at this café, right in front of your eyes you watched everything Begin Again.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts au #yoongi fanfic #bts min yoongi #min yoongi #bts yoongi #kpop fluff #bts fluff #bts angst

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Victor’s R&S - Flashback (Eng Translation)

🍒 @sage-n-rosemary has kindly informed me that this R&S (”闪回”) will not be released in EN or any server as it's one of the cancelled R&S which came with the Dream Heart Lake gacha event!🍒

Summary: The moment he catches her, he feels the scene and the one which happened seventeen years ago completely overlap.

Cancelled Victor R&S:

> six out of seventeen

> paradise on earth

> so-called disparity

[ Chapter 1 ]

When he regains consciousness, the young boy's eyes are slightly blank, and he hasn’t fully sobered up.

He isn’t in his home, nor is he sleeping on his desk in the classroom... where is he then?

He doesn’t recognise his surroundings - whether it’s the decor or the other children who are on the floor. The white walls were painted shoddily, and some parts of the walls are thicker than others. Some parts of the walls have even begun to chip off.

He notices that there are other kids around him who are slowly waking up

He doesn’t recognise these children, apart from a girl wearing a dress.

Actually, he can’t really say that he knows her. He just happened to play together with her for a while, and happened to save her life from under the wheel of a car last week.

Seeing MC, Victor has a hunch on why they’ve been brought here

Young MC notices Victor’s line of sight and looks at him

Not wanting to rouse the children who have cried themselves into a gradual slumber, the young boy mouths a word in the direction of the girl-

Dummy.

When the words come out, the young boy himself isn’t clear on why he called her a dummy. Was she dumb for getting captured to this place? Or was it because she rushed onto the road to save a kitten? He doesn’t even know if the word “dummy” was referring to the girl or to himself.

Without waiting for the young boy to comprehend his own thoughts, the girl in the corner responds with a grimace. Clearly, she understood what the boy was mouthing.

“Childish.”

Logically speaking, considering their distance, the girl wouldn’t have been able to hear the boy’s mutter clearly. However, she seems to understand it, and reaches out to make the number “six” with her hands. Seeing that hand pose, the boy is left dumbfounded.

He recalls the scene when he called her “childish” for the first time: Back then, she looked very pleased with herself, and also reached out her left hand towards him to make the number “six”. She had announced matter-of-factly: “I’m six years younger than you, so it’s normal to be childish!”

The first time he met her... should have been around a year ago.

[ Chapter 2 ]

Victor recalls the first time they met at a park not far from his home

He was playing soccer with a few boys at an empty area near a sandpit because the usual grass patch they played at wasn’t available for use

With a volley shot, the young boy knocked down the sandcastle the girl had just piled up in the sandpit next to them.

That’s how their ill-fated relationship began.

The young boy clearly remembers apologising to her back then, and that the girl had accepted his apology. Even so, the tears in her eyes just didn’t stop.

“Don’t cry, I’ll make up for it by building you a sandcastle.”

“...it’s not the same.”

“I’ll help build a sandcastle together with you then?”

“I don’t want to. There’s no time.”

He didn’t understand what she meant by “there’s no time.” He just felt a massive headache: “I’ve already apologised and proposed solutions. The sandcastle is broken. What do you want?”

His tone wasn’t heavy, but for some reason, the girl started crying even harder. He had never met with such a situation before, and was at a complete loss. What’s worse was that the other boys jeered at him from the side, saying, “Hahaha he made the little girl cry.”

That day, the young boy learnt two things:

One - you know who your true friends are in times of trouble. Two - you should never, ever speak reason to a crying girl.

After deciding in his heart never to play soccer with this group of boys again, the young boy tried questioning the little girl:

“To make amends... I’ll treat you to a dessert?”

“You... you’re not lying to me right?”

At first, he only wanted to try his luck. He didn’t think he would hear the girl gradually hold back her crying.

“I don’t have any on me right now, but you can follow me to buy it from the shop.”

“No way!!” the girl’s eyes, which were filled with tears, suddenly became resolute and decisive. “Dad said that I can’t go off with strangers, or I’ll get sold!”

“So what do you want?”

That was the second time he said this.

This time, the girl didn’t burst into tears again, but seriously considered the question. “I’ll still be playing here tomorrow. Big Brother can bring your dessert over then.”

Looking at the serious and naive girl, the young boy was left speechless. The other boys behind him couldn’t help but laugh, their laughter mixed with several words of ridicule-

Certainly, the girl’s suggestion was very silly. He could make a promise right now and comply with the agreement to bring the dessert the next day. But he could also make a promise and then never appear again. Perhaps it was his conscience speaking, or the guilt he felt towards the girl - in the end, the young boy chose the former.

He decided to fulfil this little promise.

[ Chapter 3 ]

When the young boy returned to this place on the second day, the girl was already waiting. Same as yesterday, she was piling up a sandcastle alone, but this time, the sandcastle wasn’t broken by someone.

Upon seeing the young boy, there wasn’t any surprise on the girl’s face. She just stopped her “work” and tilted her head to ask him: “Big Brother, where are your friends?”

Asking this, she smiled just like a cunning little fox.

“They’re not considered friends.” After a moment of hesitation, he gave her such an answer. “Why... aren’t you asking about your dessert first?”

“Because I knew Big Brother would definitely bring it.”

The girl watched the young boy while smiling sweetly, her originally round eyes crinkling into a line.

“Oh. I actually made it. But I forgot to bring it with me when I left the house.”

Unexpectedly, the other party didn’t express anger or disappointment at his words. Instead, she excitedly stared at the bag in his hands. “Wow! This pudding was made by you! That’s amazing!”

“I haven’t taken the pudding out, and I called it a “dessert” yesterday-” the young boy keenly noticed the oddness of the other party’s words. “How did you know the thing I brought was pudding?”

“Because I saw it yesterday.”

Hearing the girl’s answer, there was a flash of surprise in his eyes. But he accepted this fact within a second, and choose to believe it.

“You... can see the future?”

“Mm.” The girl nodded her head with certainty. After a moment of hesitation, she placed a finger on her mouth with a “shh” sound. “Even though they are just a few images.”

As she spoke, the girl scratched her head in embarrassment, and the sand in her hand followed her actions, entering the spaces between her hair: “Yesterday, I saw it - you would appear here before the sun sets, and take out a pudding from the bag and give it to me.”

Now, the young boy finally understood why the the girl made such a silly agreement with him yesterday.

“Also, what is your name, Big Brother?”

“Victor.”

In return, the girl also told the young boy her name, and also asked him a question: “Brother Victor, you said they weren’t considered friends. What about me?”

To the young boy, the girl who said this seemed to have stars in her eyes.

[ Chapter 4 ]

That day, the young boy Victor didn’t make a new friend just because of the girl’s words. Instead, a bug who was six years younger than him yielded to him because of the pudding he made with his own hands.

It was only in the park when he would meet the girl. He didn’t notice it before, but after getting to know her, he realised a few odd things about her. She didn’t stick to people. Most of the time, she would be at the side quietly reading a book, drawing, or talking to little animals.

He didn’t know what books the girl, with her limited vocabulary, would read from dawn to dusk. He also couldn't understand the undecipherable handwriting she would run over and show him with pride. Most of all, he didn’t know when she had grasped the “unique ability” to converse with animals.

However, without realising it, he had picked up a new habit - every time he came to the park, he would make a round to see if the girl was there that day.

If the girl was around, she would immediately fly over to his side and report her new discoveries:

Perhaps it would be how a flower looks when it blooms. Perhaps it would be the trail of ants in the process of moving their home. Perhaps it would be the bird’s nest on the tree. Or perhaps it would be a new friend she made.

Every time, the young boy would expressionlessly respond with a half-hearted “oh”, “mm”, “and then?”.

The girl would sometimes ask rhetorical questions: “Brother Victor, why don’t you smile? It’s so interesting.”

It was likely under these circumstances that the young boy first called her “childish”. To Victor, who is older than her by a few years, the girl’s discoveries were not considered interesting, which is why he didn’t smile.

But what the girl didn’t know is that on days when she isn’t at the park, the young boy’s face would be far from “not smiling” - it would be cold.

Later on, Victor was more willing to term this “new habit” as a “conditioned reflex” - it was because she was at the park most of the time he was there, that he developed a conditioned reflex to look for her everywhere whenever he went to the park.

And it’s exactly thanks to this conditioned reflex-

That he could save her in time on that rainy day.

[ Chapter 5 ]

It was a summer afternoon, and the sound of rain was gradually getting heavier

Victor saw MC squatting down and holding an umbrella, talking to a tabby cat

Suddenly, the cat seemed to hear or smell something and ran off in the direction of the road

From afar, he watched the girl toss aside the small yellow umbrella and chase after the tabby cat towards the road. Watching the cars rushing past and coming closer to the girl, and watching the girl close to losing herself in a place out of his reach...

Without needing to make a judgement, without needing to think, and without needing to hesitate, his instincts made the decision.

This wasn’t the first time Victor stopped time, but it was the most thoughtless instance.

If the current situation they are in is the price to pay for using his abilities in public, he would just have to think of a way to get out of it.

His thoughts return to the present, and he looks at the girl in the corner closing her eyes and taking a nap. The young boy starts thinking of a plan to leave this place.

As long as he wants to do something, there’s nothing he can’t do.

That’s how convinced the young boy is at this moment.

Other cancelled R&S: here

Lucien’s cancelled R&S (by other user): here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc victor #BABIES #cncancelled

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iamdeku · 4 years

Text

Friday (I’m In Love): Oikawa x Reader

You don’t know Oikawa Tooru. You don’t want to know Oikawa Tooru. But when fate and circumstance bring you two together, you’re forced to confront, over a series of Fridays, your worst fear. You might have been wrong. Also, you might be in love.

Wordcount: 4.3k

Warnings: Some brief bullying from a girl I accidentally named Annoying. Pining.

Oikawa Tooru was one of the most obnoxious guys you had ever met. He thought he was the coolest guy in school, and he was not at all shy about sharing that opinion. He never stopped talking about himself in that high-pitched, whiny voice of his. You hated him.

So why you had agreed to tutor him was beyond you.

You supposed it paid well enough, but you were dreading your first session. You had prepared yourself to bite your tongue until it bled through his mansplaining. You were probably going to want to die by the end of the experience, but at least you would have some extra cash for the holidays.

Your boots kicked through the drifts of snow, pure as a coal miner after a long day doing overtime. The cold ice crunched under your weight, and you pulled your coat closer, wishing you had a scarf to help provide protection against the biting wind from the cold flushed skin on your face. Your headphones offered some protection to your ears at least, blasting your favorite song in an effort to raise your spirits.

The warm rush of the library’s heating system slammed into you in a wall of heat as you searched for the annoying setter. It took you longer than you thought to find him, expecting the loud man you knew and instead finding someone significantly more studious. He was hunched over one of the library tables, gray cardigan wrapped around his body, glasses perched on his nose.

You hoisted your satchel more firmly up your shoulder, bracing yourself for whatever weird thing was about to happen. Was he trying to look like he knew what he was talking about? Did he want to show off? You really weren’t sure.

You were hesitant to venture forward, but you did anyway, taking a seat next to him. Oikawa immediately looked up, blinking at you a couple of times before giving one of his usual smiles.

“Oh good, you’re here! As much as I’m great at everything, I have to admit that this has been giving me a little bit of trouble. I was so happy to hear you could help me. Iwa-chan won’t anymore, that traitor.”

You couldn’t blame Iwaizume for getting frustrated with Oikawa’s behavior, even if he had chosen to befriend the disaster sitting casually in front of you. You pulled out your books, writing utensils and laptop. You were a self-professed nerd, so you had brought a surplus of pens, highlighters, and other instruments to the table. You had a reputation to keep up after all.

“Well, I guess we should get to work. What part of this are you having trouble understanding?” You asked, pulling open your textbook.

Oikawa explained his troubles to you, and you were surprised to find how intelligent he was. Everything he found difficult to understand was...well, understandable. You could see why he would struggle in those areas, and for some of them you had struggled as well, despite this being your favorite subject.

Even more surprising, you found out he could be a good listener when he wanted to be. It was alarming, actually, how attentively he could listen. Damn it, he took notes on the things you said, writing down the important parts of your explanations.

As you started to pack up, you saw sparks of the Oikawa you knew.

“Thanks for that, cutie. You’re pretty smart, you know? Of course, you’re smart enough to already know that. Besides, I wouldn’t have asked you to tutor me if you weren’t the best.” He winked. “See you next Friday.”

He didn’t even ask if you wanted to meet him next week. Gosh, he was the worst.

Even with Oikawa “I’m the Worst” Tooru dragging you down, you were still resolved to keep showing up to these tutoring sessions. They weren’t half as bad as you thought they would be, and you hadn’t stopped needing the money. You could have gotten a better gig, but frankly this was a pretty easy job, easier than you thought it would be. It was, loathe though you were to say it, the best option.

Besides, you were the kind of person who kept their promises, though you weren’t sure you could say the same of Oikawa.

He was late. He was a whole 3 minutes late and you were only on your second session. If he kept up this kind of behavior you were going to have to have a serious discussion with him about timeliness. Your time was valuable, and none of this had anything at all to do with you needing something to justify your dislike of him.

You were halfway through writing your future lecture on timeliness when Oikawa arrived, slightly breathless and windswept, cheeks pink from the cold. Despite looking as though he had run all the way here, he had the nerve to still look all handsome and charismatic. It irritated you.

“Sorry about being late. The guys and I were practicing volleyball and we totally lost track of time.”

He gave you a sheepish smile, recognizing his mistake, and something in the general area of your chest did a little flip. It was probably a rib rotating in disgust.

“It’s alright. Just don’t let it happen again.”

Oikawa gave you his signature charming smile as he sat next to you.

“You know, you could stand to loosen up a little. I know you’re more fun than this, somewhere deep down in that nerdy little heart of yours.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not my job to be having fun with you.”

“Ah, but it could be.”

“Just open your textbook, Oikawa-san.”

He pulled the book out of his bag, flipping it open on the desk but not bothering to look down at it.

“Come on. Seriously. I got a way better grade than usual on the pop quiz we got this week. I feel like I should thank you for everything you’re doing for me. What are you doing tomorrow?”

The truthful, sad answer was that you were doing nothing at all, actually. You had tried to make plans with your friends, but they were all “busy” with something or other. While it pained you deeply, Oikawa was right. You had no social life.

You sighed. “I’m not busy tomorrow.”

“Well, that settles it then. The guys and I have practice. You can come watch the end of it if you want, and then we’re all going out for dinner. You should come.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Oikawa’s face lit up in a way you hadn’t expected, and he smiled down at his textbook as he turned it to the relevant page.

“Good. Prove to us that you can have fun after all.”

“Watch it. You’ll remember it’s in your best interest to stay in my good graces.”

Oikawa just laughed at your threat like it was meaningless. He was right to do it. You hated to admit it, but even now he was starting to grow on you.

Oikawa started explaining what he was having trouble with, and just as you were really getting into your subject, you were interrupted by a shrill scream. You stiffened in immediate panic, swiveling in your chair to find the source of the sound. Oikawa, on the other hand, looked momentarily annoyed before pulling his Prince Charming façade into place.

“Oh my gosh!!! Tooru-kun is that you!”

You felt a wave of deep-set annoyance go through you at the girl’s tone of voice. Not only had she caused you to be genuinely alarmed, but she was clearly being way to familiar with Oikawa, unless he had a girlfriend you hadn’t heard about.

“Hey there!” Oikawa turned to face the girl headed towards you, an indulgent smile on his face.

“Oh my gosh! I saw your practice earlier and you were like, so good.” The girl gushed.

“Thank you. That’s very nice of you to say.” Oikawa seemed genuinely flattered at this, if you were so bold as to assume you could tell the difference between the fake him and the real him.

The girl giggled, stars in her eyes before they turned to you, darkening dramatically. “Oh, who is this? Is she like, your girlfriend or something?”

You didn’t like the turn the girl’s tone of voice had taken. There was something distinctly catty to the way she said the world ‘girlfriend’ that made your stomach turn. You had met plenty of mean girls in your life, and now alarm bells were going off in your head.

“No, no. Just my lovely tutor. She’s helping me out in my worst class. She’s very talented.”

Oikawa seemed to have picked up on the change in tone, shifting slightly to be in front of you. Presumably, this was to block you from the daggers the girl was glaring at you.

“Remind me your name, would you?” Oikawa’s smile had grown tense.

“Oh, my name is Miko! How could you forget?” She pouted elaborately.

“Silly me!” If at all possible, Oikawa’s megawatt smile grew brighter as he caught her attention again, drawing her in once more. “I remember now. How have you been, Miko-san?”

You smirked to yourself at the honorific, so different from how she had referred to him earlier.

“I’ve been great! Way better now that I get to catch up with you. I missed you!” She stuck out her lower lip like she was trying to catch something with it.

“Well, I hope to see you at my next game, once we’re back in season. Thanks so much for stopping by!”

Oikawa’s body turned towards the table, clearly indicating that the conversation was over. Miko didn’t get the message.

“What are you studying? Maybe I can join you. I’m pretty smart, you know.”

You had officially had enough. You stood from your place, glaring at the girl in a similar fashion to how she had looked at you earlier, but for very different reasons.

“Listen, Miko-chan,” you said, purposefully pitching your voice up into an imitation of her own calling for Oikawa. “I don’t know who you think you are, but this is a tutoring session. So unless you intend to pay me for my services, I really am going to need you to find somewhere else in this rather large library to study.”

The girl turned to you, and you expected some kind of temper tantrum, maybe a few crocodile tears before she walked away, but what you got was far worse. She smiled at you sickly sweet, planting a hand on your table and leaning in.

“Pay you for your services? Oh, so I guess you’re nothing more than a common who-”

Oikawa stood from his chair, the legs loudly scraping across the floor as he grabbed her arm. He turned her to face him harshly, and you would never forget the look on his face. You had seen the prince of Aoba Johsai wear many faces, most of them some version of the charming, charismatic boy you knew. You had never before seen the look of cold rage he wore now, grip firm on her forearm as he practically snarled at her.

“You’re not going to call her that. You’re not going to call anyone that ever. If I see you at one of my games, I will make sure you are promptly escorted out. Leave. Now.”

The girl stood still for a moment, frozen in terror, before turning on her heel and bolting as Oikawa released her. You blinked in shock a few times, unaware that your classmate was capable of such emotion, let alone such anger.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you said quietly, the first words to cross your mind. “She’ll go around telling everyone you’re an awful person now. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got in trouble or if she started some kind of weird hate club.”

Oikawa scowled as he sat back down, mind clearly still elsewhere.

“I don’t care. People shouldn’t talk to you like that. Nothing about what she just did was okay. Whatever repercussions I face for that, so be it.”

You stared at him in surprise. Oikawa had come to your defense, at no personal gain to himself. Sure, anyone should have done that, but you never thought he would. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Hey.” You nudged his side gently, and he softened, looking down at you. “That invitation to your practice still open? I think I’d like to see you play. I hear you’re ‘so great’ or something.”

He smiled again at your gentle teasing. “Yeah. We’d love to have you.”

As the months went on, you began to acknowledge that Oikawa was not what you had thought he was. Reluctant as you were to admit it, you considered him a friend now. As you had grown to know him better, it became obvious that everything you had thought about Oikawa before had been a mask he put up to impress people.

“If you keep poking me with that pencil, I will stab you in the eye with it,” you mumbled, not bothering to look up from your paper until a soft spring breeze floated through the library door as it opened.

“Iwa-chan! She’s being mean again!” Oikawa whined.

Iwaizume, ready to join your Friday study session, cast a lazy gaze over the both of you, assessing the situation in half a second.

He shrugged. “It looks like you deserved it.”

“I’m wounded, Iwa!” Oikawa threw an arm over his chest, falling back in his chair.

You rolled your eyes even as a smile tugged at your mouth. You had gotten used to Oikawa misbehaving. Some might go so far as to say you liked it. Some might even go so far as to say you liked him.

You would deny it if asked, of course. The way you blushed when he complimented you was the same as the way you blushed when anyone complimented you. The warm tingle left on your skin when he touched you was just because he was warm, infecting you with it, burning you alive. And the way you couldn’t breathe around him sometimes? Well, nobody could prove that.

Nobody could prove that Oikawa Tooru was your best friend, and nobody could prove that you were in love with your best friend.

Oikawa rested his head on your shoulder, and you wish you could say you had long learned how to ignore the jump of your heart, but you were only human. You still caught your breath, still felt an ache somewhere in your chest when he did it. It was the sort of feeling you got when you saw something in a shop window you couldn’t have but amplified by a million. It was so strong that sometimes you wanted to scream it out, wanted to stomp your feet and throw a fit like a kid in the grocery aisle because you wanted something you couldn’t have but oh, how you wanted it.

It consumed you some days, the way you wanted Oikawa. The way you wanted to peel back his layers, make him reveal that real self you caught glimpses of when he was with you. The soft boy who cried during sad movies, the brave boy who fought for you when you were sad, the silly boy who made faces just to get a rise out of you. It creeped like a sickness through your bones until you wanted to throw up, wanted to lay in bed all day in your sticky sweet misery and sob taffy tears, taste them on your tongue.

“Who are you going with to the spring dance?” Oikawa asked you, breath blowing against your neck in a way he couldn’t know sent shivers through you.

“I’m not going,” you said, returning to your textbook now that Iwaizume had established his presence.

Oikawa sat up, posture stiff with his indignance.

“Not going? How can you be not going? I know for a fact there are at least 5 boys planning to ask you.”

“They asked. I said no. I’m not going.”

“Why not? It will be fun!”

You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the nasty feeling in your gut. You couldn’t very well tell him that you didn’t want to go just to watch him dance with every member of his little fan club. You refused to explain how absolutely heartbreakingly awful it would be to go and watch him rotate through his carousel of girls, all of them beautiful, all of them wanting him, none of them you.

“I’m studying. You know, that thing smart people do when they want to pass their classes?”

Iwaizume snorted.

“I know what studying is.” Oikawa glared. “I thought you would want to come, though. I figured you would already have a dress picked out and a date and everything.”

For a guy trying to convince you to go to this thing, Oikawa sounded almost sad talking about it. He especially seemed rather melancholy at the prospect of your date. You wondered if maybe one of your potential dates was somebody Oikawa hated or something. Not that it mattered, since you had turned them all away.

“I don’t really want to go. These things aren’t really fun anyway. Besides, all the guys who asked me were jerks.”

“That’s true,” Iwaizume said. “Didn’t Itsuki ask you? That guy got in 4 fights just this week. Pretty sure I heard him in the bathroom bragging about…actually, never mind. Point is he’s a jerk.”

“Trust me, I know. They were all like that, too.” You groaned. “If one decent guy had asked me, maybe I would have gone, but apparently there’s something about me that draws in the Itsuki’s of the world. So, I’m not going. I’m just going to stay home and watch tacky movies and do homework.”

“Go with me.”

You froze at Oikawa’s offer. He couldn’t be serious. Didn’t he already have a date? Didn’t he already have girls lining up around the block to go to this stupid thing with him?

“Don’t you already have a date? I thought…” You trailed off, unsure what exactly you had thought.

“No. I…I heard the person I was planning to ask was rejecting everyone who asked her. Didn’t want to risk it.”

For whatever reason, Iwaizume rolled his eyes from where he sat across from you.

“Okay. Well…can’t you just go with one of your fangirls?”

You weren’t sure why exactly you were fighting this. This was what you had wanted, but not like this. You had wanted him to ask you because he liked you, not because he was too afraid to ask some other girl who was apparently too good for the student body population.

“I don’t want to go with them. I want to go with somebody I like.”

Oikawa’s soft brown eyes were too earnest staring into your face. You couldn’t say no to him when he looked at you like that, so open and vulnerable you could almost pretend it was a confession. It would have been terribly cruel of you to turn him down now.

You sighed. “I guess I have to buy a dress now.”

Oikawa smiled. “Yay! You don’t deserve to be cooped up all night in your room. I promise I’ll make this fun for you.”

“You’d better,” you teased. “I’ll tell you once I know the color of the dress. That way you can match your tie.”

“Perfect.”

If you closed your eyes and didn’t think about it too hard, you could almost pretend it was a real date.

When the Friday night of the dance came, you really did almost believe it was a real date. Oikawa had told you he was going to pick you up, but he hadn’t told you that he was going to bring a corsage or charm the pants off your parents. He was acting like you were the girl he had wanted to take this whole time.

He opened your door for you before you got into the car, taking your hand to help you balance as you stepped into the car in your heels. You were dumbstruck when he reached over to buckle you in and make sure you were safe before heading over to the driver’s side. You tried frantically to control your breathing as he got the car started.

It was a short drive to the school, but the whole way there you could barely talk to him, trying to figure out his game. Was he doing this because he didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out? That had to be it. He was probably just trying to show you what a good date was like.

When you got to the school, he helped you out of the car, and you finally admitted it to yourself. When he escorted you in, despite everything, you sort of felt like a princess. Oikawa looked so dashing in his tux, his tie matching the shade of your dress, everything coming together perfectly for a moment before it came crashing down with the realization that you were not the person he had wanted to take to this thing.

In spite of that, though, he seemed intent to act like it. Oikawa’s fan club mobbed you as soon as you entered, but he ignored all of them entirely for once.

“Sorry ladies, but as you can see, I am escorting my date. Any other day you know you all have my attention, but I’m afraid tonight is all about us.” He flashed you a shy smile as he said it, cheeks turning pink on the word us. “Do you want to dance?”

“Uh….sure.”

He was being weird about this. You didn’t have much time to think about that though before he swung you out on the dance floor, swaying you to the beat of the music. The first few songs were fast, but eventually they played a slow song, and so you two danced a slow dance, Oikawa’s hands settled gently on your waist and yours around his neck. He had you pulled close though, enough so that his head curved over your shoulder and your ear pressed against his.

“So, I was thinking,” he said.

“Oh no. That’s always dangerous.” You laughed a little bit.

“Haha, very funny. But seriously, we’re graduating soon, and I…I don’t want to lose you.”

You couldn’t see his face with the position you were in, but you could hear the tenderness of his voice. Your heart ached with it even as he voiced the thought you had been having for a while now. You were coming to the close of your final year and you had wondered if, when you were no longer in school, you would have to face the reality of Oikawa no longer wanting to spend time with you.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you said softly.

“Yeah but…” Oikawa released a shaky sigh. “I don’t know if that means the same thing to you.”

Oikawa pulled back, far enough to look you in the eyes. You were too astonished to protest, staring up at him with your mouth fallen open in surprise.

“I want something more. I know you’ve just barely accepted me as a friend and you hardly even tolerate me and I know I’m annoying and loud and brash and obnoxious. I know all of that, but I need you to know that you’re everything I’m not. You’re gentle and smart and careful and considerate and you were the one I wanted to take to this dance. You. Not anyone else. That’s all I have to say.” He laughed bitterly. “I guess that’s my confession. I don’t expect you to accept it.”

Before you could stop him, he let go of you, starting to retreat through the crowd of dancing bodies around you.

“Tooru!” You used his first name in your excitement, forgetting any need to pretend distance.

He stopped when he heard you, a look of desperate hope on his face. You grabbed his hand, pulling him back into you.

“I wanted to come to the dance with you too. You’re my best friend, but you’re so much more than that. I’m so stupidly in love with you, but I never thought that you would feel the same. I do accept your feelings. All of them. Even the big, loud, obnoxious, dramatic ones. I love them. I love all of it. So let’s not lose each other. I was thinking that after we graduate, I’m probably going to go to college, but I don’t know if you have plans to go pro with your volleyball, or maybe-”

You were cut off when he grabbed your face between his hands, crushing your lips to his. Right there, in front of everybody, Oikawa Tooru started making out with you in the middle of the dance floor. Nobody really noticed the two extra teenagers kissing on the dance floor, but you felt your heart soar.

“We can work all of that out later. For now, I just want to dance with you.”

“And kiss me?” You teased.

“Yes. I would very much like to keep kissing you.”

You laughed, leaning into his shoulder again. The song changed, picking up pace to something more upbeat, and you changed your dance style in accordance with it. You could see Iwaizume on the side of the dance floor looking at you two approvingly, and when you made eye contact, he gave you a thumbs up.

Later, you would have to worry about college and volleyball and everything else. Eventually, it would all work out in the end, though not without some troubles. That Friday though, you danced the night away with your best friend turned boyfriend, and finally admitted to yourself that Oikawa Tooru was the best.

#hq #haikyuu!!#hq fic #oikawa tooru #oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader

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p---ink · 4 years

Text

Stark Contrasts: Chapter Two

Author’s Note: Hey guys, an anon asked for angst, so I gave them a bunch of drama with this chapter. Though I personally wouldn’t classify this as angst, im gonna tag it that way. I think angst is more like a story with a depressing tone, but this is more so dramatic if anything. But don’t worry I sprinkled in a bit of fluff and some smut to lighten it up a bit. This is a sequel to Stark Contrasts, which I recommend reading first in order to get a background of what led to this chapter. Caution, I used google translate, to add in some French. If any French readers find it offensive or wrong, let me know so I can take it out or edit it. I really hope you enjoy reading this chapter, it took me over a week to write due to writer’s block, but I am pretty happy with the outcome. Once again PLEASE DON’T REPOST MY WORK!

Summary: Edward Stark realizes the errors of his ways towards the reader, and tries to woo her in order to save their relationship.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, cheating, age gap, daddy kink, etc.

Song: From Eden by Hozier for the first half, and Run by Hozier for the second.

Word Count: 11.2k.

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Chapter Title: Daddy Issues.

So much had changed since your night with Tony. For one, the entire dynamics of your relationship. Long gone were the unsure lovers with unresolved sexual tension. You two were more confident in your affections now, and this made you reach a new level of comfort within each other and within yourselves. Through the eyes of a stranger, the description would be that of an old—in love, married couple.

Though he was much older, you were the more mature one. Tony enjoyed doing things just to annoy you. He found your irritation both adorable and sexy. You would get so pouty, and your voice would go up at least three octaves. If he really did his job right, you would end up banging your small fists against his chest, which he thought was the cutest shit in the world. He took pleasure in poking the sides of your stomach, when you were performing tasks that took your attention away from him. “Kitten,” he’d whine when you were entranced in a book, “put that down, and come and play with me.” Then he would lay his head in your lap and talk about absolutely nothing until you noticed him. He only ever drew the line in his endeavors when you were studying. He preferred his head attached to his neck, rather than rolling on the ground.

Besides always trying to piss you off, he religiously spoiled you rotten. That extravagant lace pale blue body con dress that you saw in your favorite shop? Better believe you’d find it on your bed the next day after Edward left for work and you were getting ready for classes. He would place expensive Cartier bracelets around your breakfast muffins, and bvlgari necklaces around the necks of gifted stuffed animals. He loved buying you luxurious gifts, ranging from earrings to bags. But besides your pleading for him to stop, he knew you struggled to find ways to hide it. If he happened to notice it, explaining to Edward where you got the money to pay for diamond encrusted rings would prove difficult. You were only able to wear your shiny new gifts when you were out with Tony; he found other ways to spoil you however. There were many days, where you had nothing planned, and he’d surprise you with a day at the spa, or a night on the sky in his private helicopter. If it had been up to him, everyone in the world would know you were his, but he just couldn’t risk being seen with you. Because of this fact, he had to become creative with the ways he treated you. From the rooftop dates in secluded towns to the lavish wine tastings alone in Napa, you had experienced more with Tony than you had in your entire life. When he could arrange bullshit business events for Edward to attend, he gave you bullshit reasons to fly with him to Paris, Italy, Greece, and everywhere in between. While Edward had his trips, the two of you had your own.

Of course you always felt it was too much when he would do all of this. However, no matter how much you begged him to stop spending money on you, he never listened; it was like second nature for him to give you the world and more. He felt it necessary for someone he believed created the moon and stars.

Most who knew him closely thought he was an asshole. He would often over-talk, dismiss, and challenge others. They always pinpointed on his shortcomings, forgetting that he was a good man in the process. He was a genius billionaire philanthropist, for fuck-sake, who many a time sacrificed his own desires for the wellbeing of others. This is why he always felt guilty. The one thing he kept to himself, the one thing he was not willing to give up, was you, even though you belonged to someone else.

He just wouldn’t give you up though. Tony adored you. When the rest of the world felt like pollution in his lungs, you were his breath of fresh air. He was intoxicated by you. Enamored in your existence. He saw you as perfect which he knew was impossible in a world full of imperfections.

He became obsessed with your hair, curious as to how it could defy gravity some days, then dance on your shoulders the next. He needed to know the secret on why the sun resided in your skin, giving it a mahogany glow, with golden undertones. Your soft full lips, coffee-colored with a tint of pink, were his eternal bliss. It didn’t matter if you smelled of his sex the morning after or if your tired eyes were baggy from a night of studying, he knew you were the most beautiful person he laid eyes on. It was just as simple as that.

Tony wasn’t the only one to change. One could argue you became more bold. Where he showed his love through gifts and adoration, you showed yours through care and touch. “Tony, you’re working too hard. Come to bed now," you’d urge when you’d find him in his study hunched over a stack of papers at his desk. If he had too much on his hands, you would happily take over to help him get done sooner. You were surprisingly stubborn, and would stand firm in your attempts to get him to take care of himself. Though Tony loved annoying you, he hated when you were worried. If he was sick, you’d drop everything to tend to his needs. Whether it was making homemade soup, or driving halfway across town to get a specific type of medicine; you would do it for him no hesitation. It got the point that whenever he wasn’t feeling well, he tried to hide it. In a way being ill made him feel insecure and old. You couldn’t give a shit about those silly worries of his though, because if he needed to be taken care of, that’s what would happen. When nameless idiots over the internet spoke bad on his name, you were the first to draw your sword to defend him. You could never tell him that, but the screen name Tonysbitch99 wasn’t really fooling anyone; how could it when the anonymous face behind the name would say exactly what you would? To you, your love felt minuscule in comparison to his. It’s the reason you hated when he spoiled you. Tony however, appreciated your gestures, and felt that he was the one that was lacking. In reality your love language complemented each other perfectly. His love for you was loud and vocal, whereas yours moved silently. He needed you to ground him, while you needed him to drown out any shadow of a doubt that his actions were genuine. Besides, what could you possibly do for a man that had everything in the world?

Among other things that were now different was the constant sex. You two fucked like rabbits. He once cleared out an entire store just so he could fuck you in your dressing room. Your favorite times were when he didn’t clear the store at all. “Daddy, someone might hear us” you’d moan into his skin while he thrusted into you against a wall. “I want them to.” He would counter, before picking up the pace to build your reaction. On the way home from dining out, you would often ride him in the backseat of his car, the two of you clawing at each others skin desperate to get closer. When you just couldn’t wait to get home from your outings, he would start fingering you underneath the restaurant table while whispering sweet-nothings into your ear; this usually resulted into you getting dragged to the nearest bathroom stall. On nights where Edward was home, he would come up with any excuse to get you alone so he could bury himself into you. The two of you were playing a dangerous game, but Tony was an addict and he didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.

Perhaps the person to change the most though, was Edward. Whether it was because he learned to work hard for the things he desired in life, or the fact that said things could be taken away from him in an instant, he was changing. Most importantly, he saw that you were changing. Tony and you may have thought him to be a self-absorbed idiot, but he saw the fading love marks that littered your neck. He saw the expensive shopping bags filled with shoes and high-end lace, carefully tucked away in your shared closet as if it was meant to be hidden. The new housekeeper bought your hand-stitched lingerie in with the laundry, smiling to him relishing in how lucky he was. But you didn’t wear that for him. He saw the way you bounced around without a care in the world, even though he had not done right by you for the entirety of your relationship. Who was all of this for? Whose texts were you chuckling at while you laid in bed so late at night? Whose scent was embedded in your bedroom sheets? Whose hickeys bruised the surface of your skin? Who was all of this for?

It was true that he was somewhat of a different man now. Edward in the past would have accused you of being the biggest slut in the world. This Edward however, knew that he had no room for anger. He had absolutely no room for judgement. He had cheated on you since the genesis of it all. That didn’t change the fact that he loved you. He meant it when he said you were his forever girl, and that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. How could he be so foolish and let you give his love away?

“Dad,” he started, looking up to observe the older man. He and Tony were currently sitting opposite in their breakfast nook. Tony with his legs folded, newspaper in hand, orange juice in the other, hadn’t even looked up to acknowledge him. All that could be heard was a barely audible “Hmm?”

“I think maybe I need some time off from the company” He stated.

Expecting his father to just be okay with that, he was slightly taken aback when Tony replied, “Why is that?” briefly meeting his eyes before returning to the words on his paper.

“Well, its actually about Y/N” at this, he had his full attention.

“What’s wrong with Y/N? Is she sick?” Slight panic dripping in his words.

“Well no but…” he began, trying to find the words to say.

“But what Edward? Use your words, kid!” He demanded, tone a few notes away from a shout. He saw the surprise in his son’s face, so he straightened himself and said “Sorry. It's just you know how close we are. She’s my best friend.” He wanted to say you were his girlfriend, but best friend reigned true as well.

“Well,” Edward began again “Our relationship is in shambles. I’m pretty sure she’s cheating on me and I don’t want to lose her. She might be the only woman who’s gonna put up with my shit. And I know she’s genuine because she doesn’t ask for my money. I feel like if I’m here more, I have a chance of rekindling our connection” Edward stated, confiding in his father, hoping to find some sense of relief. He hadn’t realized how hurt he was. Is this how he made you feel? Tony almost felt guilty. But protectiveness over you soon clouded his sense of remorse. Who was he to try and take you away from him?

He examined his son. The younger boy looked like he hit copy paste on his mother’s genes. They shared the same facial features, down to her high cheek bones, only Edward had raven black hair and dark brown eyes. He was more compared to Robert Pattinson than he was to his own father, even though he looked nothing like either of them. Man, genes were a funny thing.

Tony thought about his words. It was true that you were humble and any other woman with an ounce of self-respect would have hit the door running the minute they found out how sleazy Edward had been. You almost did, until you met his father.

He put down his newspaper, turned to Edward and took in a sharp breath before saying, “She is taken care of, so you have nothing to worry about. There isn’t any unknown man coming in from off the street sniffing around your woman.” Tony chose his words carefully. They were cautiously crafted so that he technically told the truth. He was many things, but he hated to be called a liar.

He read the uncertainty in Edward’s face, then continued his case. “In all honesty, Ed, you know I need you at your desk. You wanted this, are you really gonna let your insecurities get in the way of that? If so, maybe I should find someone better to take your—”

Quickly interrupting his rambles, “No dad, listen. I don’t want to give up my seat. I’ll just have to find some other way to solve our issues.”

“Exactly what issues do you have?” Tony pressed, eyebrows knitting together.

“Don’t ask me how I know, but she’s cheating on me. I’m sure of it.” He confirmed, staring blankly into his father’s eyes. What does know? Tony thought to himself. Does he know it’s me? “Besides why are you getting so defensive?” Edward challenged. “It almost sounds as if you’re mad.”

“It’s just I know what kind of girl she is.” He defended, throwing his hands up and sitting back in his seat a bit. “She wouldn’t cheat on the man she loves. And I’m sure she cares about what you think.” Taking in his words after a moment, Edward chuckled to himself. His dad was right, you had to care about him. Why else would you still be here despite how much he had put you through.

“Thanks dad. I think I was worried about nothing for a second there.” In the back of his mind, he still knew you were sleeping around, but now he was certain that it was all done as a cry for help. You just wanted his attention. He felt silly. He smiled to himself, then to his father. Tony returned a weak smile; the rest of his face couldn’t fake the empty sentiment. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you came in to distract them. You came bounding down the staircase on your way to make some breakfast before your trek to school. Both of the men instantly averted their attention away from each other, to instead lay it onto you.

It was a cool fall day, so you were wearing a cropped white turtleneck that you paired with a pleated floral skirt. Long tan thigh high boots hugged your brown legs in just the right way, and you wore a simple (but expensive) necklace that Tony purchased for you. You used to care, but now you thought nothing of it since you knew Edward never paid any attention to you. Today happened to be one of those days that you were wrong. While Edward silently fumed over your choice of jewelry, Tony thought of new ways to violate you. With your consent, of course.

Focused on the iPad in your hands, you failed to notice anyone else in the room until you heard the creak of a wooden chair. Looking up from your device, you were greeted by the men of the house eyeing you meticulously. “Oh sorry. Good morning” you smile, shy from the sudden attention.

“Good morning sweetheart” “–Morning babe.” Tony and Edward say simultaneously, surprising each other, and surprising you. As they say it, their necks snap towards each other for just a second and their expressions match; furrowed brows and clenched jaws. Your eyes widen for a second before you continue on with your business.

Before swallowing the awkward silence, Tony begins, “You’re down here pretty early. Do you have something important to do?”

“I don’t have anything planned, I just wanted to wake up early to get some things done before class.” You returned, searching the cupboards.

Upon hearing your plans to do nothing, Edward sparked up an idea. He cleared his throat, and rose from his seat to hesitantly trudge over to you. At the moment, you were standing on your toes trying to reach your favorite coffee mug in the top of the cupboard. Tony always placed it there to watch you struggle, just like he was doing right now. While taking pleasure in how cute you looked bouncing up and down, he hadn’t noticed Edward leave from his seat until he blocked his view. He shadowed your form to place a hand over yours bringing down your mug. Slightly startled, by his touch, you dropped it. It fell into his hand before it could shatter on the floor. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He chortled, turning his lips into his famous sexy grin. It did nothing but repulse you.

“Its fine.” As you take your mug and turn away from him to pour your coffee, Edward wraps his hands around your hips to turn your body towards him. You were now facing Tony, but even if you weren’t you would be able to sense the daggers he was throwing into Edward’s back. His orange juice glass was on the verge of shattering, and the wood on the table threatened to splinter his fingers, from the grip he had on it. He wasn’t supposed to touch you.

“So I was thinking” Edward began, dragging his thoughts out. “Since you don’t have any plans, I’m taking you out tonight.” You mentally cursed yourself for going into detail about your day in front of him. Mouth agape in utter disgust, you were at a loss for words. Tony could think of a few he wanted to say; however, but he stayed silent. Edward took your silence as surprise. In his eyes, you were happy to finally be spending some time with him. Everyone just stared at each other. Edward at you, you at Edward, and Tony back and forth between the both of you. “I can tell you’re happy.” His hands began to roam up and down your sides as he spoke. He drew a line up your spine, and pressed his lips to your ear before whispering, “Make sure to wear something sexy—”

“Edward sweetie, as the boss, don’t you think you should be at work bright and early.” Tony advised. Saving both you, and Edward. He worked very hard to ensure his words didn’t fall through gritted teeth.

Without taking his eyes off of you, Edward rolled them and smirked at you, as if you too were frustrated with Tony for cock-blocking. He quickly pecked your lips and went to grab his workbag. Your eyes followed his movement about the room. Just before exiting the house, he turned back to you to say “Be ready at seven” and then he turned the knob to leave.

You, Tony, and silence were all alone together. You didn’t dare look at him, but the side of your face was burning from the glare he had on it. Acting as if nothing happened, you turn back around to prepare your day.

Still staring in your direction, it was now Tony’s turn to get up. He leaped from his seat to take long strides towards you. He stopped just short of where you were standing, waiting for you to acknowledge him. You tried to busy your hands with your current task, cracking eggs into a bowl, waiting for him to break the silence; he was waiting for you to do the same. The sound of egg yolks hitting the surface of the bowl, followed by the stirring of a whisk were the only noises to be heard in the kitchen.

“Yes, my love?” You ask after a few moments, the quiet becoming too unbearable.

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” He replied, eyes boring into the side of your head.

“Tony what are you talking about. I’m busy.” You sigh, growing annoyed.

“Well fine, if you won’t look me in the eyes, can you at least answer me this? What. The Fuck. Was That?” He asked, soaking his words in drama. He placed his hand flat onto the counter awaiting an answer.

“I honestly don’t know.” You answer truthfully, still whisking your eggs.

“Well did you two make up?” Tony pressed.

“No, I guess—”

“Well then why did he kiss you?”

“Tony, I don’t know wh—”

“Well then why don’t you know?”

“Could you let me finish!” You shouted before giving him your undivided attention. Your outburst both surprised and shut him up. “I don’t know why he kissed me. I don’t know why he asked me out on a date. We did not make up, because as usual we don’t say a word to each other. Fucking hell, this has been the first time in a year since we’ve been in the same room for longer than a minute, besides when we’re asleep.” You end your rant with this “All that I know is this, I don’t care. I’m not going on that date because I would rather spend the night with you. To be completely frank, I think I’d rather spend the night in a closet with murderous clowns, than go on a date with your shitty son.” With that, you walk away to aggressively click on the stove to begin cooking your breakfast.

“Well,” Tony began, only slightly taken aback. “I know he’s shitty, but you didn’t have to say it. He is still my son, so I’m the only one who reserves the right to call him a shitty.” He chuckled, leaning opposite to you against the counter, looking down to observe your actions.

“And to that I say, when you do a piss-poor job at raising a man to respect women, then anyone reserves the right to call them shitty.” You comment, meeting his eyes with a small smile before turning back to your cooking.

Tony smirked at your remark. “Blame his mom, because I’m a total feminist.” He grasped your chin to turn it towards him, bringing his face down to kiss yours before abruptly stopping. He took a paper towel from the bar, and began wiping your lips, earning a glare from you, that soon turned into a fit of laughter. His smirk only grew wider at his successful attempt to diminish your anger.

“You make me sick.” You roared, calming down from your fit, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a deep kiss. When you were ready to let go, Tony wasn’t. Ignoring his needy looks, you turned back around to your task at hand. Like that, the mood changed from light-hearted, to serious in an instant. Unsatisfied, Tony moved from his spot at the counter to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest.

“You know I could get used to you yelling at me. It really turns me on” he said, rocking from side to side which made you sway in his arms.

“Babe.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, rubbing a finger down your spine the same way Edward did earlier, only this time instead of chills and shivers, you felt warm tingles.

Not now.” You warned, already knowing where this was going. He pushed a bang behind your ear to admire your neck.

“Why not. Can’t you skip school for just one day?” Tony responds, fanning his lips over your ear.

“ No. No I cannot.” You reply, trying to overlook the kisses he planted against your neckline, and the traveling hands against your curves.

“Then just be a little late.” He said, palming your chest, taking his time to massage the fleshy mounds. You lose your composure as he brings a hand down your sternum to dip underneath your skirt. You both groaned, him at how wet you were, and you at how good his hands felt. “Besides I know you wanna stay a little longer.” His voice was shaky and husky, and he was about to snap, which made your knees like jelly.

“Tony, please.” You were going for stern, but your demands came out in labored pants. You felt his hardened member pressed against your ass and back, and you knew if you didn’t stop him now, there was no way you were leaving the house any time soon. You unfastened his hands from your waist, and pushed him away from you before continuing your cooking. You cleared your throat to say “Maybe later.”

Seemingly defeated, Tony started with a sigh “Fine. No more teasing. But I’m hungry.”

“I have time to make you some French toast or pancakes.” You respond, placing your cooked breakfast on a plate and turning the stove off.

“I think I’ll have you instead.” He says, before planting one more kiss beneath your ear.

“No thanks love.” You chuckle.

“I wasn’t asking,” he retorted, before hoisting you up by your knees and placing you on the island away from the stove. You laugh in the process, knowing that this was inevitable. Upon sitting you down, his lips were on yours in an instant. Hurried sloppy kisses, covered your mouth and jaw as he explored your body with his fingers. As he traced his the index along your collarbone he realized he found new things to worship every time. His lips were hot and wet on your skin, both burning and soothing everything in their path. Breaking the kiss for just a moment, he brushed passed your shoulder to push everything that was on the kitchen-top’s surface to the ground.

“You’re cleaning that up this time.” You exhaled, before grabbing his face to bite his bottom lip, something you knew drove him crazy.

“Fuck it princess, it’s worth it.” He groaned, before roughly pushing you down, while being careful enough to not injure your head. He reached up your thighs and under your skirt, to pull your panties down your legs and over your boots.

“Let me take these off” you suggest, lifting the band to your shoes, but he raised his hand up to stop you, eyeing you through his tousled brown locks.

“I like them on.” He pressed a gentle kiss against your exposed skin, before saying “I’m keeping these by the way.” in reference to your lacy black underwear, before stuffing them in his back pocket. He bent down to pepper love-marks along each leg before lifting your skirt to place a soft kiss against your entrance. There was no time for him to be a tease, so he quickly dived his tongue between your folds, and he began writing his full name into your lips. The name Anthony Edward Stark felt both long and short, as it was being etched into your core. Shocks of what felt like electricity rippled through your spine, as your pussy purred to his beckoning. You were a fucking mess. He let a string of spit fall from his lips and onto yours, before flattening his tongue to gather the mixture, slurping and suckling in the process . Your eyes started to roll to the back of your head, until Tony pinched your clit. This became his favorite signal for you to give him your attention, the jolt always conflicted your pain and pleasure receptors. You loved and hated eye contact. That feeling of vulnerability sent your mind into a frenzy. But Tony refused to let you look away; he was obsessed with the way your face looked when you came undone. He began making the lewdest sounds against your cunt, tonguing it in the same way he’d do your mouth. You made a mess of his face. Your juices were dripping down your folds and in between your cheeks; what his tongue didn’t catch spilled onto the island. With his face buried in your box, his nose would lightly brush your clit, sending you straight into ecstasy.

You slightly squeezed around his head, only to have him pry your legs open. His tongue fucked your hole, making you clench around it. You were already so close, but Tony wanted this to last—that way, you’d be bursting at the seems by the time he was finished with you. “Someone wants to be fucked senseless, doesn’t she?” He asked as he raised up, licking his lips. Smirking down at you, he lifted your sweater up to your chin, in order reveal your happy breasts. He then pulled your bra under them to get a full view of the spread.

Dragging you closer to the edge, he massaged his fingers into your pussy, running them through your lips, while watching you squirm underneath his touch. He placed a hand between your thigh, kneading the immediate area with his thumb. He was enjoying the view, but knew that he only had a few minutes left; so, he pulled his pants down, coated his length with the hand he previously used to massage you with, and sunk into you no warning.

You took in a sharp breath, tears welling in your eyes and chest rising and falling. As many times as you had been with him, you still weren’t used to his size. “Shit, kitten. I’m sorry, I thought you were ready for me” he swore, grunting at the feel of you. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he wouldn’t move until you said it was okay.

When the pain subsided pleasure quickly took over. You looked him in his eyes to say “Please wreck me baby.” He crooked his neck to look at you sideways for a second as if to ask ‘are you sure?’, dick twitching inside of it. You were more than sure. Then, before you were able to comprehend he snapped his hips forward, drilling into you at a brutal pace. Your moans and pants turned into screams, and you braced your hands against his abs. He grabbed your wrists to steady himself, so that he could thrust deeper into you. He loved this shit. The way your chest bounced. Your broken moans and cries. Even the expressions you wore, were enough to spur him on.

“I can do this all day!” He growled, relentlessly hammering into you. He thought your tight little cunt was euphoria. At this point you felt like he was in your stomach, threatening to go further. You felt your dam about to break once more, but he was a step ahead of you.

He sat you up and pulled you off the counter, quickly turning you around, ridding you of your orgasm again. Frustrated, you wiggled your ass, and pressed it against him, desperate for his touch. This earned you a harsh slap against the cheek. “Don’t play that game with me, unless you don’t wanna walk for a week” he warned before digging his nails into your skin. Within a second after that, his cock vanished behind your walls, instantly hitting your g-spot. You yelped throwing your hands back to cushion the slaps between his thighs and your own. Tony grabbed them, and like before, used them to pull you back onto him. “No, no princess. Take all of me baby. I want you to feel it all.” He growled, slamming his frustrations into you. The cabinet doors below you were shaking from the impact of your thighs. Your nipples, slid across the cool countertops as Tony stroked in and out you. You laid your head down on the counter, strength leaving you as he rocked you back and forth.

To reach a better angle, he grabbed one of your knees, lifting it to lay beside your hip against the counter. He then leaned over, so that your back was against his chest. “This pussy is mine, do you understand?”

“Yes daddy.” You whimper.

“I’m sorry what was that?” He challenges, grabbing a fistful of curls to yank, lifting you both back up.

“I said yes daddy” you shout, approaching your orgasm once more.

Tony roughly grabs your chin to turn it towards him, pressing his forehead against yours. “I can tell you’re close princess. I can feel you getting tighter around me. But good girls always ask before they cum. Beg for it.” He whispered.

You knew he wasn’t joking, but you wore your worried expression on your face. “Don’t be shy kitten. It’s just you and me.” He assured, lightly kissing your lips as he spoke.

“Please let me cum Tony.”

“Do you think you deserve to?” He questioned, suddenly ticked off from Edward’s bold gestures earlier. His lips ghosted over yours and he began slowing his moments, to really pound himself into your core. “You’re a filthy little slut for letting another man touch you.” On any other occasion, his words would have pissed you off, but in this moment they just made you wetter.

“I only want you to touch me daddy, I’m sorry” You whine, throwing your ass back onto his cock, determined to take your orgasm, but wary of the consequences if you do.

He gripped your neck with one hand, and grabbed a tit with the other. He fondled and massaged the breast, while applying pressure with the hand on your neck. He places his face to the side of yours, chin hairs tickling your cheek.“Do you promise to never let that happen again? Hmm?’” He presses, squeezing your breast and tweaking your nipple. All of this was happening while he was continuing his movements in and out of you.

“I promise baby, please just let me cum.” You screamed. You were losing your composure, and your vision was becoming blurry from tears. He had denied you one too many times, and you didn’t know if you could hang on any longer. You were pleading with him at this point.

“Cum” was all he said, as you coated his dick in your juices. Tony followed you not a second after, shooting his load up, feeling it come oozing down his member. He bit into your shoulder-blade to suppress his moans. You however lets yours come out in an almost embarrassing shriek. You had no shame though, Tony had brung you out of your shell many, many orgasms ago.

Now a sweaty mess, he unsheathed himself, and leaned down to place a kiss on your back before readjusting your sweater and skirt. He then turned to readjust himself.

“I know you’re gonna hate what I am about to say,” he warned, buckling his belt and bracing himself for your reaction, “but you should go on the date.”

“What, why?” You questioned, turning to face him, confused by his suggestion. Was he tired of this? Was he tired of you?

“I just don’t want this to end. So…to not raise any suspicion, you should go out, and have fun.” He stated before averting his gaze. He clearly didn’t want you to, but he knew you needed to.

“Tony I’m not going.” You stated, fixing your hair and walking away to collect your items for school. “He didn’t even ask me, he told me. So I don’t want to do this.” You pout.

Trailing behind you slowly, he asked this question “So if he had asked you, would you have been more willing to go.” You were kneeling down to adjust the straps on your school bag at the moment, but you stopped to survey him. His hands were buried in his pockets, and his shoulders were squared. He wasn’t the usual sure of himself cocky man you’d come to know, for a minute he seemed insecure.

“Tony, I wouldn’t want to go period.” You confirmed, raising up to stand at his level. You unplanted his hands from his pockets, and clasped them to your own, stroking his knuckles.

“Sweetheart,” he started. He let go of your hands to so that he could cup your cheeks. “I think you have to baby.”

“Ugh.” You loudly scoffed, letting his hands go to walk back into the kitchen and grab your breakfast. Your eggs were cold now, so you searched for an apple and a granola bar instead, as Tony continued his case.

“Listen, Edward knows about us. Well, not us specifically, but he knows you’re with someone. Without him, there is relatively no reason for us to continue…us. It would look bad if we still remained close with each other if your relationship with him ended.”

“Tony I’ve been living here for over a year now. I think it would be even weirder if I just cut off ties with you completely” you sneered, violently flinging the refrigerator door open in search for the string cheese. Tony mirrored your movements, and slammed the door back.

“Sweetpea, could you just think about it.” He pleaded, while talking with his hands and peering down at you with his chocolate orbs. Butterflies started to flutter in your stomach, at the new pet name he assigned you. He always tried out different ones for different situations, and this one just happened to fit this one. “We always knew this was a difficult relationship. Even if you guys ended on good terms, dating me right after would not be the greatest idea. At least if you’re with Eddy, we have more time to figure things out. Please.”

Contemplating his words, you knew he was right. But that didn’t change the fact that you hated it. “Fine. I’ll go on this stupid ass date.” As you said it, the word date was laced in venom, venom that you wished to reserve for Edward’s veins. “How are you okay with all of this though? Whats your secret?”

He thought about it for a moment, and then replied, “I’m not” before pursing his lips and looking down at his feet. Weirdly enough, you needed to hear that. Knowing that you both were going through this dread together oddly made you feel better. You grabbed his chin to lean in for a passionate kiss. Your taste from earlier still lingered on his tongue.

“Everything is going to be fine.” You assured, gazing up at him.

“Ya, I know.” He smiled, before looking down at his watch. “Well not everything, because you’re late for class again.”

“Shit!” You screeched. He watched as you sprinted through the door after scrambling to grab your stuff, all before he could even blink.

“I love you, Y/N.” He said to himself, as he waved at your fleeting car.

——————————————————

“How does this one look?”

“No. No. No. That slit is entirely too high!”

“Tony, it’s literally below the knee. And you’re the one that chose it!”

“Too much skin. Next.”

“Yea well he has seen me naked before so.” You mumbled.

“What was that? Yea maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. You were right kid, take it off and we’ll come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t go.” He was worried. He became worried after the first dress. Though he would never admit it, you knew when he was upset. He would place his glasses on his face and get to talking faster than normal.

“Baby, like I said earlier, everything is going to be fine. Trust me.” You assured, as you went to get changed into the 7th dress of the night. 7:00 o’clock was approaching faster than normal. You had been home for a few hours now, so you and Tony mentally prepared yourself. He drew you both a hot bubble bath to calm your nerves, but it didn’t do much for them. As the time got closer, it got harder to convince each other, that this was fine. At the moment, it was your turn to persuade Tony.

You came back into the room, in a flirty fit and flare dress. Though the dress was less than a foot away from your ankles, it hugged your curves perfectly. “Hell no. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He shouted. He had crossed and uncrossed his legs so many times at this point, you thought he’d pull a muscle. He got up to pace the room. You had never seen him worry this much.

You met him from across the room, skipping to stand behind him. As you hugged his back, you stood on your tippy toes to press your chin on his shoulder. “Honey,” you cooed, “it might help if you told me exactly what you were afraid of.”

“I’m a grown ass man Y/N, there isn’t much that I’m afraid of.” He retorted.

Aware of the sudden attitude, you reply “Fine, maybe afraid is the wrong word. Let’s say nervous. What’s got you so anxious?”

He placed his hands on top of yours before sighing, “I don’t want him to steal your heart. But I also don’t want my son to be hurt. I really don’t want to lose you, but I also feel like I am being selfish towards you both.” He turned around after making his last point, entangling your fingers together. “Most of all, I don’t wanna lose you.”

You placed your head on his chest and chuckled, the gesture sending small vibrations through him.“You said ‘I don’t wanna lose you’ like three times already.”

“Well I don’t. And you know what, who gives a fuck about me being selfish. I am that way when it comes to you. And don’t I get to be?” He asked the question more to himself than to you.

“Yes pumpkin.”

“I know. I mean, I’ve failed him as a parent you know? If he doesn’t have the decency to appreciate someone as wonderful as you, then I have failed him. I don’t know what to do. I usually do, but I just don’t this time.” You had never seen Tony be so vulnerable before. Over the past year, he had seen you in so many compromising situations that would have made any other man run straight for the heels. But you seldom saw him in those same compromising situations. This was new, and while you always liked new, this was scary. You feared, that he saw an end to this before you could.

“It is going to be okay.” That was all you could say. He sighed, and placed a kiss against your forehead before speaking.

“Y/N, I’ve been wanting to tell you,—”

“Dad! Y/N!” You heard Edward yell. You two quickly removed yourself from each other, just before he could make the room. You ran back into your bathroom to slip into another gown. When Edward came in, he was surprised to find his father in his room. “I was looking for you, but I didn’t expect to find you in here.” He began changing out of his work clothes, to freshen up.

“Well yea, she asked me to help her pick a dress.”

“I hope you helped me out here. I am trying to get laid tonight.” He admitted, winking at his dad. Tony just stared at him blankly. Taking his expression as disapproval for his choice of word, he awkwardly laughed, “Oh come on dad, don’t get stiff on me now, you know you taught me everything I know.” He began changing into his date attire, before realizing something was missing. He went to look in your shared bathroom.

Attempting to walk in, the door was immediately slammed back into his face. He was embarrassed that it happened in front of Tony, who was currently chuckling on your bedroom couch. Regaining his cool, he knocked on the door. “Babe, I need to get in for a sec.”

“I’m in here.” You replied, with short words and short tones.

“Yea babe, I know you’re in there, the thing is I need to be in there too.” He was annoyed, but you were already pissed about going out with him. Especially since he interrupted his dad from earlier. What was he gonna say? You thought.

“Well you’re gonna have to fucking wait Edward.”

“Listen, if this is about your dress, I’m gonna be happy with whatever you put on for me okay?” He assured.

“No, Edward. This is about me not wanting you to see me naked.” You corrected. “Now you could either wait, or forget about the entire date.”

“Well, I guess that means you’re not getting laid tonight.” Tony teased, fighting the shit-eating grin, that threatened to plaster his face. It got harder when Edward looked at him with the biggest death-glare .

Why does the bastard seem happy about that? he thought to himself. “Whatever. There’s always next time.” He stated matter-of-factly, not noticing the joy that left his father’s eyes. “Do you have any cologne that I can borrow?” He was still annoyed but it was fleeting. You two were not going to ruin his night. He would have you by the end of it.

“Uh, yea I left it in the downstairs bathroom, follow me.” Edward found it hard to read Tony at the moment. As mentioned before, the older man rarely lost his composure. Those closest to him, knew his ticks, but by no means were Tony and Edward close. Father and son, maybe, but they would never be friends. Edward always took to his mother, listening to the poison she spewed in his ears from the time he was old enough to understand. To him, Tony was a terrifying, self-entitled, know-it-all, who never granted mercy tho anyone, even those he loved.

Up until recently, he saw that that wasn’t true, or if it had been it was in the past now. As he followed him down the staircase, they reached the bathroom where the cologne resided. Tony, trying to play nice, handed Edward a tiny glass bottle. The bottle itself probably cost over a thousand dollars, what did that say about the tawny brown liquid inside. “Thanks man.” Was all he said, as he carelessly took it.

“Hey, you be careful with that! It cost more than your entire outfit.”

He spritzed the liquid onto his collar and wrists before speaking “This smells really good. What is this again? I feel like I’ve smelled this before.”

“Forget about the damn cologne Edward. We need to talk about Y/N.” His demeanor turned serious, as he addressed you.

“What is there to talk about?” He questioned, tousling with his hair in the mirror.

“She’s fragile right now, and I just don’t think you should force yourself onto her.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m not a rapist.”

“That’t not what I’m saying at all. The very fact that that’s the first thing your mind jumped to is alarming to say the least. Whatever, anyway, I’m saying that you can be a little aggressive with your approach. She doesn’t appreciate your selfish nature.”

“Selfish? Did she tell you that?” He stopped with his hair and eyed him through the mirror.

“All that I am saying is that you may win more points with her, if you ask her about what she wants.” Tony didn't even know why he bothered trying to help him. In all honesty, he was just trying to to help you.

“Dad, you just let her call me selfish? I am your son, shouldn’t you care more about what I think?”

“You literally just proved her point. And shouldn’t you want to be more attentive to your girlfriend’s needs?”

“Why are you two so close? Don’t you think that’s a little weird?” He inspected his father skeptically. He turned around to slowly look him up and down before continuing “Whose side are you on?”

Tony stood firm. He made sure to show no sign of weakness. “I’m on her’s.” His eyes burned a hole through Edward, and the younger boy bit back his anger to cower his head away from his father’s menacing look.

“Let’s go, before I change my mind.” They both perked their heads up to look at you standing through the bathroom’s doorway.

You were wearing a silk mauve spaghetti-string top, paired with pearl colored high-waisted wide-leg dress pants; those were held together by a simple Gucci belt. A chic baggy blazer that matched the pants graced your arms, and three-tier pearl earrings dangled from your lobes. Your perfectly manicured cream colored nails clutched a large white wristlet against your person. You sported a curly shoulder-length bob, and your makeup was done to look natural. On your feet were a pair of costly looking suede heels whose color resembled your top; their points were so sharp they could puncture skin. You looked more ready for a business meeting, than a date.

“Wow babe” Edward started, eyeing you in detail. “You look great, but I thought you were gonna wear something a bit more comfortable.”

“Well Edward, you said you would be happy with whatever I chose.”

“I mean I am but—”

“You look amazing.” Tony interjected, eyeing you a little too long for Edward’s liking.

“I mean don’t act so surprised, I am a boss ass bitch” You respond feeling shy all of a sudden. You broke eye contact to bite your bottom lip and examine your feet. How could your stomach still swarm and your face still heat up after all this time.

He cleared his throat before saying, “Right well, you guys have a date to attend. I hope you have fun” He turned to Edward to adjust his collar, “But not too much fun.” He left it at that for a moment before adding, “Because ya know, I’m too pretty to be a granddad right now.” He patted his chest and turned him so that he could push him out of the door.

He stopped you before you could follow, to say in a hushed tone, “You look beautiful. Hurry back please.”

“I’ll try. Don’t worry.” You gave him a small smile, before turning to leave.

He grabbed your hand to whip you around and slam the door. He pressed you against it, hands on either side of your head.

“Tony what the fuc—”

“Say the word and we can call it off.”

“Honey, at this point it’s too late. He’d know something is up if we did that.”

“Do you think I give a flying fuck what he thinks. Come on just say the word.”

“Tony, I am going. We won’t be long. So don’t worry.” You grabbed his cheeks to peck his lips.

He released his hands from their spot on the door and reopened it to a confused Edward. “Sorry.” He directed towards him. “It looked like she had a gaping hole in her pant leg. Couldn’t let it ruin your date.” He was always a terrible liar, and as he said it, he watched your retreating movements to the vehicle.

“Thanks for looking out,” Edward said sarcastically before following your steps. He tried to open it for you, but you ensured that you could open the door yourself in a cold manner.

When you got into the car, you prepped yourself for the long night before you. If you had looked back at Tony’s expression, you may have never left with Eddy.

———————————————————————

Shit. You thought, as you pulled up to the restaurant. Of course it had to be one that you and Tony frequented a lot. Every time they saw him, they called you both by name. You should have known something was up when the drive took an hour outside the city.

“Eddy, why don’t we go somewhere else.” You say as you slide down in your seat. “This place looks expensive.”

“I want to try this. I’ll take care of the bill.” He was being short with you now. It was due to the lack of communication during the entire drive. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t get more than two words out of you. You almost felt bad, but that diminished when you saw him shamelessly checking out a girl who was passing by your car. You didn’t even care about it, you were just annoyed that he did it in your presence even though it was his idea to take you out.

“Fine.” You retort, unbuckling your seatbelt to beat him inside. You felt that if you got in before him, you could warn the staff not to mention Tony, or your being there before. Too bad Edward’s legs were way longer than yours.

“Slow down, I’m the one who made the reservations.” He ran up to walk beside you. He sensed you sense him checking the other woman out, and took your sudden mood shift as jealousy. “Don’t worry baby, she wasn’t even that pretty.” He snaked an arm around your waist, which made you recoil away. He opened the glass doors for you, and you were immediately embraced with the familiar smell of French cuisine. The ambiance was soft and warm, and the lights were dim as golds and yellows lay in the scenery. Being here without Tony wasn’t the best, but at least you felt somewhat at home.

As the two of you approached the maître d’s desk, the jolly man lit up at the sight of you. Samuel was the sweetest, and sassiest person you had ever come to know. The fact that he could be both was why you loved him.

“Aww ma cherré! C'est si gentil à vous de nous rejoindre ce soir!” Samuel exclaimed. He was elated to see you since it had been a while.

“Tu m'as manqué Samuel!” You were happy to see him as well and expressed how much you missed him.

“You two know each other?” Edward inserted, causing Samuel to focus his attention on him.

“Well no. I just read his name tag.” You said nervously.

“Qui est-ce?” Samuel asked, trying to figure out who Edward was. He was currently sizing him up. This wasn’t his precious Tony.

“What did he say? I knew I should have gone somewhere, where they speak English” Edward complained.

Samuel mumbled something about Edward being an entitled prick, which made it hard for you to suppress a smile. “He asked what was the reservation name under.”

“Ahh, it’s under Stark! I am the one who called ahead 3 hours ago!” Edward shouted, like the asshat he was.

“Monsieur, I understand English. I’m from New York.” Samuel stated with an attitude. “However speaking French helps set the tone for this environment. Also, if you yell at a person who you presume to speak a different language, it makes you look like an obnoxious prick.” You couldn’t suppress your smile this time.

“Is it customary to speak like that to your guests too?” Edward challenged, making both you and Samuel’s smile falter.

“Non monsieur.” He replied, the confidence from before had left now.

“Yea I didn’t think so. I would like you and your staff to speak English to me for the rest of the night.” He informed, a menacing smirk playing on his face. “I should see that you take care of those who give you service.”

“Yes sir. Allow me to lead you to your table.” You tugged on the cuffs of his jacket to look at him with sorry eyes. “ Ahh Mrs. Y/L/N, will you be taking your usual spot on the roof—”

You looked at him with wide eyes before you said “Monsieur!” You shouted. You guys had stopped, “Could you show me to the restroom! I am sorry I cannot hold my bladder any longer.”

“But you already know—” Samuel you idiot! You thought to yourself.

“Restroom please!”

“Okay okay, just a minute!” Your outbursts were out of character, so he was just now realizing something was wrong. “You can sit here sir. Right this way ma’am.”

When you two got out of earshot, that’s when you tackled him with a hug. “I am so sorry he treated you like that.”

“It’s not your fault, my dear. But who is that son-of-a-bitch.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed before saying, “That’s Tony’s son. We are dating.”

“Wait! No what happened with you and Tony!”

“Nothing, we are fine…we just met at the wrong time.”

“Ahh, does he know that you are dating his son?” You basically just told Samuel that you were dating two people who were blood-related, and he didn’t bat an eye-lash.

“Of course he knows! Edward doesn’t though, so if it isn’t too much to ask, please tell everyone to act as if they never met me. I would really appreciate it.”

“Anything for my favorite girl! You stupid bitch, I can't believe you didn't tell me all this juicy gossip.” He winked at you before leading you back to your table.

You sat down in the booth and let your blazer fall from your arms. All of a sudden you felt nervous, but determined to play nice. Edward’s irritation took on a new level, and you forgot that you were supposed to be “rekindling” your relationship. All you had done this entire evening was make it worse. You almost forgot how to talk to him, being alone only made things worse. He was sitting opposite to you, examining his menu. And when he spoke it was cold.

“I took the liberty to order us some drinks while you were off talking with that server.” So he knew you had lied about the bathroom, yet his eyes hadn’t left his menu. Maybe he was trying to decipher the French, and wasn't really worried about you.

“I don’t drink anymore.” You declared.

“So much has changed about you. Like you speak French now, when did that happen.” His voice was like liquid turned into stone. Hard but smooth at the same time.

“I took an online class.” You lied. Tony was the one to teach you. “I have an internship in Paris that requires me to learn it.” That part was true though

“Does that internship pay you ahead of time?” He glanced up from his menu to meet your gaze.

“It doesn’t pay me at all.” Your brows furrowed. Where was he going with this?

“Oh. You know I just thought it did, since you can afford Gucci, and what is that?” He asked referring to your wristlet “That’s a Valentino right? Oh and let’s not forget the Louboutin’s on your feet!” He was losing his cool now.

“Eddy you’re gonna cause a scene. Lower your voice.” You hiss.

Fortunately your waitress came over to distract him for a second. “Bonjour, je m'appelle Elise. Je serais heureux de te servir ce soir.” You knew Elise, but you had to act as if you didn’t. You hoped that when she looked away from her notepad, she wouldn’t recognize you.

“English please. I already told your host this.” He was already an ass, but now he was being plain rude.

The peppy red-head looked up from her notes to examine him. Her doe-like eyes wide in terror that quickly turned into joy upon noticing you.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” She looked around for a second before looking back to you, “Where is Mr Stark?” You held your breath at the mention of Tony. I guess Samual hadn’t warned Elise yet.

“I am Mr. Stark.” Edward rudely inserted. You were relieved he didn’t realize the error, until he spoke again “Look. We’re not ready to order yet. So why don’t you come back later. Fuck off” He waved his hand in a dismissive behavior, before turning back to you.

You watched the girl bow her head before quickly retreating.“Why do you have to be such a fucking dick?”

“What? Do you think I hurt your little friend’s feelings? Why did you act like you’ve never been here before.” His nostrils began to flare, as he sat up from his seat.

“I haven’t—.”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me Y/N. I heard him ask you about your usual spot on the roof. You must think I am an idiot.” He snarled. “I asked about it before reserving the restaurant. My point is that I know it costs more than your tiny bank account could hold. So what, did you plan on freeloading off of me and my dad, while your sugar daddy takes care of you too?”

“Don’t speak to me like this.” You state through gritted teeth. Your eyes were starting to water from his interrogation, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

“Who pays for it? Hmm? Is it the same person who put those hickeys on your chest? Or is it the person who bought you that cheap ass bracelet.” Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist to snatch off the Cartier bracelet Tony got you for valentine’s day. It meant the world to you, since he had the words ‘My heart belongs to you, T.S.’ engraved inside it. You watched the jewels bounce and clatter on to the hard-wood floor. Rolling under feet and nearby tables. People were starting to look over, but you didn’t care. You also didn’t care about the tears that spilled from your eyes.

Edward sat back in his chair, and rubbed a hand through his hair while acknowledging your tears. He coldly mocked these next words “What’s wrong. Can’t he afford to buy you a new one?”

“Yea.” You said, voice shaking, while your eyes remained on the floor. You turned back to him to say, “Maybe if I fuck him good enough, he’ll get me an even prettier one.” His hands began to shake as you watched him go red in the face. He balled his palms into fists, knuckles turning white; a sharp contrast to his crimson fingers. He unexpectedly slammed them on the table, causing you to jump, and the conversations around you to cease.

“Well maybe he should give you a ride back home while he’s at it, you fucking bitch!” He shouted, spit flying from his mouth. He got up to storm out of the door, pushing passed Elise who was coming back with your drinks. He left you embarrassed, without a way home, and alone. Oddly enough, you weren’t crying because of Edward. You were crying because you felt like you failed Tony.

————————————————————

You arrived home over four hours later, after hailing a taxi. You would have been home sooner, if you didn’t spend the night with Elise, Samuel, and the rest of the staff, insisting on helping them close. You partly helped to make up for the scene you and Edward had caused, and you also wanted to give Edward enough time to get home and go to bed. From the looks of it, he had made it there in just a little under an hour, because that’s when Tony started lighting your phone up. That’s why you stayed longer to wait for him to fall asleep as well. You were an even bigger idiot than Edward if you thought he would be asleep before you made it home.

He was sitting on the staircase when you unlocked the door to come in. “Are you okay?” He asked, leaping up to stand before you.

“Yea I’m good.” You respond, tiredly.

“Good. Because I am fucking livid.” He said in a frantic tone. “What’s wrong with your phone?”

“Nothing. Where’s Edward?”

“He’s asleep. So why didn’t you answer you phone?”

“It died.”

“Was that before, or after you turned it off? Because I know for a fact that’s what you did. That’s always your excuse when you don’t want to talk to someone.”

“Can we not do this tonight.” He grabbed your shoulders and bent down so that he could look you in your eyes.

“I would prefer it if we did this now.”

“Well it’s not about what you fucking want all the time,” You snapped.

“Hey. That’s not fair.” Hurt was plastered on every inch of his face. You saw it, so you began to apologize.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked, and you were about to cry again. “Tony I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live in this house with him anymore. I can’t live this lie any. more.” The tears spilled, and you couldn’t tell who was more hurt at this point, you or Tony.

He pulled you into his chest, which muffled your sobs. “What am I supposed to say, when you get like this? I can’t bear seeing you cry, princess. What do I do?”

“Please just hold me. Don’t let me go.” You mewled.

He pulled back to wipe away your tears with the backs of his thumb. “Now when have you ever known me to do something stupid.”

“Everyday.” You laugh. He tapped your nose and gave it a quick kiss, while still cupping your cheeks.

“Yeah, well besides then.”

“Never.” You whispered. He stared into your eyes lovingly. You two stayed mesmerized in each other for longer than usual.

“I love you, Y/N. I guess that goes without saying, but I thought you should know.” He confessed. Believe it or not, it was the first time. The two of you never had to say it, because you just felt it. Just knowing it, still wouldn’t beat hearing the actual words though. He had just made it fact in your heart.

Speaking of your heart, it was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, threatening to leap from your chest at any second. The butterflies he gifted you quickly turned into elephants, that threatened to trample your insides, and replace the remains with Peruvian lilies. Your cheeks were now hot to the touch, and your mouth searched for words that came out in random incoherent spouts.

Tony, suddenly overcome with unsureness started with, “Maybe this wasn’t the right time to—”

“No!” You shouted, “I love you too.” You cried, smiling before you stood on your toes to wrap your arms around him. His arms dropped to your sides, and he pulled you in by your shirt, latching his mouth on yours. This kiss was different from the rest. They all felt good, but this one felt better than them all combined. Taking in all of you, your scent, your taste, your feel, he felt spoiled. He grabbed at the sides of your face to deepen it, while you grabbed at the back of his neck. You both tried your hardest to get closer, but it may have not even been possible, since there was no space left between you.

You were the first to pull back for air, while Tony still pecked at your lips, stealing wet kisses, that trailed from your mouth to your forehead. He peppered them over your eyelids, nose, and cheeks, desperate to cover every perimeter of the skin.

You fluttered your eyes open when he was done, smiling up at him though your lashes. His chocolate brown orbs danced with more joy, than you had ever seen, and his pearly whites peered through his goofy grin. He eskimo kissed you, and rest his forehead against yours. You were happier than you had ever been.

You both snapped your necks towards the sound behind you before you heard Edward say “I should have known it was you.” He, like his dad before, sat at the bottom of the staircase watching the both of you. You two were so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t even hear him walk down.

And just like that, your happiness left the chat.

A/N: Sooo... tell me what you think? Also, I proofread, but please let me know if you see any errors. Please like comment and share. To @swaggysposts @scarletsoldierrr I am so sorry for posting so late, but I really hope you are still interested. Please tell me what you think! PART 3 here

#tony stark smut #Tony stark angst #black reader #Marvel Smut #Tony Stark x reader

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chaniters · 3 years

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Intermission

Cyrus agrees to modify Riley's feelings, gets confronted by her, then remembers some of his worst moments at the farm and discovers Ortega's Epilepsy. All in the same evening. TW Suicidal thoughts. TW Motorbike accident. ------------------------ “Are you sure you want me to do this?” you ask, hoping he’ll change his mind.

The look in his eyes tells you he won’t take no for an answer on this.

“Please don’t get cold feet on me now Cyrus. You already told me you’d do it...”

“Yes, I did… Fine. I’ll do it. Whatever.” you shrug as he stops the bike.

The mansion is far from the city. A little spot of private heaven, paid for with taxpayer dollars by the look of it. The Carters have been in politics for long, and public officials are often very rich in Los Diablos’ corporate government.

You can’t help feeling out of place here. Every time you’ve been at a place like this, you were wearing a disguise, maybe a junior janitor, bellboy, or waiter. Always an extra layer of protection to keep people from looking at you.

But coming here in a hero suit, drawing everyone’s eyes?

That’s… something.

The door opens as you approach, with who you assume to be Riley walking outside, a wide smile on her face.

“Ric, so glad you stopped by...!”

“Sorry I didn’t call first, I was in the area and…-”

“And you wanted to apologize for what you said last time! It’s ok silly, I forgive you!

” she says, wrapping her arms around him and giving him an intense kiss that he doesn’t seem to be returning, not that it's stopping her, with her hand going lower and onto his butt.

“Rye, I just wanted to … Rye… Rye, I didn't come to apologize. I told you it's over… we need to talk...” he keeps trying to talk through the awkward kiss.

“I know you didn't mean it!" she laughs "Come on, say it! You missed me!”

“Rye… please cut it out...”

“Hmm.. now why would I do that…”

This is new. You’d have never expected to see Ortega look so helpless...

You imagine this would be what Anathema calls cringe.

She pauses as she opens her eyes, noticing you standing right there, staring at them. Her smile suddenly loses its intensity, looking just like something that’s splattered on her face.

“Oh. And you brought Sidestep.”

“Hello” you wave, trying to fit into the awkward moment, extending your hand.

“Hi. Riley Carter pleased to meet you” she replies, putting herself back together and letting Ricardo recover his breath. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“He’s my ride,” you point at Charge. He’s the culprit here, not you. Her mind is far too intense, and this is going to be hell…

“Like I said, Riley… I need to talk to you about something. Something important.” Ortega says, his voice more serious now.

Coward. Is that another reason he brought you, to rescue him? “Oh” Riley seems to have finally paid attention to what he was saying. “I’ll give you two some space,” you say, returning to the bike. Ortega looks alarmed by you leaving, but you have enough range that you don’t need to be right next to her to do it.

You lean on the motorbike, taking some chewing gum from your pocket as they start walking around the gardens, your mind following hers, and the conversation from her end. Ricardo tells her about the last events, how Psychopathor managed to assemble a tank in prison and blow the walls in his escape, the clash that happened afterward, and how some heroes and villains ended in the hospital. Or dead, like Darkfist, and Dr. Incredible who were vaporized in a plasma blast when the tank exploded. He then goes over the investigation that determined it was built using nano-construction techniques, and how the only portable device available for something like that was in the rangers HQ before it got stolen, without anyone knowing who told the thief it would be there. The trail ends with her... She stops him there, asking what does any of that has to do with her, asking him if he’s accusing her of something so ridiculous. Shouts at him that she didn’t know about any of it, and that’s when he decides to bring it out to show her. The bug that was placed in his communicator. The expensive, unique bug that was made to blend with his insulated tech. The bug that could only have been placed by someone really close to him… A pause in her mind. Hesitation…

She denies it. He insists. He tells her Steel had everyone’s hardware analyzed and only his costume was affected… and that there was only one person he had left the costume with.

That’s when she breaks. She tells him how she got tricked, how someone she met at a party told her he was cheating on her. How they told her where to get the bug… how to apply it… He yells at her, and you begin to feel like perhaps you shouldn’t be watching this, you shouldn’t be listening in…

But he wants to know, and you said you’d do it, so you stay hooked to her thoughts, like a parasite, feeling emotions you’ve never experienced herself. Guilt. Remorse. Shame.

She tells him she’s so sorry, that she didn’t mean for this to happen, that it’s all her fault… She starts crying, apologizing, asking him not to leave her…

Thinking she should kill herself.

The thought doesn’t get said out loud, but is so intrusive and enforced by so many negative memories that you have to block it out, pull out of her mind, run away, hide inside your own thoughts and lock down your shields so it doesn’t follow. You got the answer he wanted, so you can go back to feeling like the little guy chewing gum by the motorbike. But you’re crying too now. You’ve heard similar thoughts before, but not without the drug cocktails they gave you. Not without a team of specialists helping you scrub your mind of awful thoughts you took from people.

Your trainers told you plenty of times that humans get too emotional about their partners, and that you should stay clear of such thoughts. You should have listened. Now that you had a taste, you can tell they were right because It’s terrifying.

You open your eyes to see Ortega hugging her as she keeps weeping.

Blinking doesn’t make it go away.

Why? Wasn’t he angry at her a moment ago? You can’t understand it...

But you have to go in again.

You agreed to do this, and the answer was only half of it. You can’t walk back now…

Can’t help asking yourself again why did you agree to this...

Gathering all your strength, you focus and plunge deep into her thoughts once again.

It’s terrifying in there, like a building that’s falling apart, only held together by Ortega’s arms, or at least that’s what she thinks. She thought they would get married. She thought they would have children.

SHIT.

It’s getting to you, like a flood, and you’re drowning under it…

Is this love? Why can’t I be without him? Why does it hurt so much?

She doesn’t know, and you have no clue about these questions. “ Have you ever been in love?” She asks.

“No. I haven’t” you reply, because she’s right there. She can sense you now because you’re lost, and your training is useless here.

“But you have,” she says, pulling one of your own memories. One that you locked deep below, where it would never see the light of day. “You were in love and you made him go away.”

“ Stop. That’s not true! ” “ You loved him and you made him go away because you were afraid. And now you are going to make me go away because he is afraid. Afraid of me. ” This shouldn’t be happening. She shouldn’t be able to hurt you like this! But she isn’t… she’s just making you remember… You’re the one hurting yourself.

“ Oh my god, he’s such a coward … so you’re going to do it, no? ” she asks, bitter and relentless.

“ I told him I would,” you reply, elevating yourself above the flood that is her defense. Regaining control. Out of her grasp. “ Then do it,” she asks. “ Make me stop hurting .” Standing tall now, you can look down and see that the demons in her mind are many… Ortega is wrong. How is this going to help at all? “ DO IT, YOU FUCKING COWARD !” she dares you. “ DO IT !” The waters begin rising, trying to drown you again, but you’re ready this time, holding her back. burning deep, modified thoughts into her mind.

Turning her love to indifference. Annoyance to hatred. Breaking down her image of Ricardo to pieces, and scattering them through the waters, where they’ll never get put together again.

How far can you go?

Not much, you can sense an incoming migraine, a hard stop to your powers.

You keep going as much as you dare and then erase your own presence as well. Just like they trained you, replacing your thoughts with a tired rage aimed at the horrible boyfriend that made her cry.

You retreat for the second time, feeling your head hurting as never before. Your pain gate is no use, there’s no stopping it once it’s already inside the brain.

With a last effort, you awaken her, bringing her back to reality.

She stops weeping immediately, pushing him away, staring in shock.

What have you done?

You’re tearing up, as she looks at him with eyes that show no little recognition, before muttering a curse, telling him to get off her father’s property and going back inside, leaving him alone at the footsteps.

Why did you do this again?!

It made sense last time. You would have been discovered and reprogrammed. He wouldn’t stop having feelings for you. It was wrong.

So you reprogrammed him yourself because you couldn’t bear them doing that to him… NO!

No, you were just trying to save yourself. There’s nothing else to it.

Why did you do it again this time? Just because he asked? He’s not your handler! You know that.

Should have said no… why agree? You don’t have an answer.

His eyes are reddened as he gets closer, and by the look on his face that he’s equally shaken.

“Let’s go,” he says, without another word. You’re too weak to argue, and so you sit behind him, as he starts the engine, speeding you both away

________________________________________

The Carter mansion soon disappears in the distance, wind flowing heavily against your suit as Ricardo goes full throttle. Too fast to be able to talk normally, so you switch on your helmet’s intercom.

“We’re going really fast… are you ok?” “No I’m not ok” the reply comes a few seconds later. “Did you get anything?”

“I did,” you reply “Then hit me.” “As far as she knows, she didn’t lie, so they must have manipulated her into planting the bug..” He relaxes slightly as you say that, slowing down the bike. “That’s… good to hear,” he says at last.

“Did you really suspect her of being behind this?”

“Not her. Her father… he’s dirty and…” he sighs. “Mierda. That’s why it’s so hard to be in a relationship, you know? They’ll use anyone against you. They’ll do anything to get an advantage over you.” “She was still spying on you.” you point out. “And you still hugged her after she confessed.”

He doesn’t say anything else for a while, so you focus on the road ahead. It’s dark, and you can’t see much beyond the bike’s light. The city lights shine in the distance, but you still have above an hour to get there.

“Did you do it?” he asks in a shaky voice when you had started to think the rest of the journey would be silent.

“Yes. Yes, I did.” is all you can say.

“Thank you.” he lets out as if this had been a simple favor. Just some mind-trick, like making someone’s gun point the wrong way. Like finding out who’s looking at us…

“How was she?” he asks, not letting it go.

“What do you mean?”

“Her mind… how was it from the inside?”

“It was… I… You know I’m not a shrink, right?”

“Just tell me, Cyrus. Please” Shit.

“It was… bad. Like real bad.”

“How bad?”

You tighten your lips. That isn’t your memory...

“Cyrus, I'm only asking because I want to know if she’s going to hurt herself!”

“I did what you asked! I’m not a shrink, I just changed her feelings! She’ll stop trying to get together with you. That’s all I know!” you repeat, a lot louder this time. “Just answer the fucking question!” Deep breaths. “You don’t get it,” you complain, to no one in particular, because of course, he will never get it. Doesn’t he understand that you don’t want to think about this? It’s her thoughts, not yours, and you want it to stay that way!

“Tell me Cyrus, or we’re going to have a problem.” Your handler’s words coming from his mouth, making your skin crawl. Making you want to throw up.

Tell him. It’ll be easier.

But it’s not easy. The thought is charged with deep shame, now your shame and she rattled your own memories...

“Yes, Ric! Yes, she thinks of it sometimes. She thought of it today when you started yelling at her! Is that what you wanted to hear?!” “Yes.” he croaks through the intercom “Yes, I needed to know,” he says, the life sucked out of his voice.

“Fuck you.” you let out, feeling the beginning of the migraine, overloaded with too much baggage that doesn’t belong to you. “Can you help her with that?”

“FUCK YOU!” you scream louder.

“Cyrus, if you can help her with this then…”

“Help her with this? Listen to yourself!”

“I just want her to stop hurting!”

“And what? You want me to rewrite her into a better person, is that it? Newsflash, I can’t! I can’t handle my own problems and you want me to fix hers?” “But…” “You think I have some fucking magic wand? You don’t know what it’s like! It hurts both ways!” “I just wanted to help…” “FUCK YOU! All you want is to feel better about yourself!” Your head is about to explode, and you’re tearing up under your helmet, your eyes drifting onto the white lines on the road, going one after another in quick, endless succession. Focus on them. That’s safe. You can feel him sigh as you hold on tighter to his skinsuit, feeling him take a curve, with another incoming in the distance or so the signs say.

“Slow down. I want to get off…”

“We’re still far from the city.”

“Do you think I care? Let me off!” “I… I’m…” he’s mumbling erratically, the white lines on the road losing cohesion.

... something’s wrong! Your eyes widen as his hands begin slipping from the handlebar. There’s only a massive surge of static where his mind should be. Not normal, even for him.

“Wait, don’t do that!” You try to wrest control of the handgrips, but you’re not fast enough, and the bike goes sideways on the incoming curve, off the road, and down the cliff.

Down the cliff.

You barely manage to brace for impact, covering your head during the fall, bumping and rolling several times until you land on your stomach, the bike falling next to you. You stay there, immobile for a few seconds, internalizing what just happened. Wondering if this is where you die…

The question lingers until you struggle to sit up, finding you are still pretty much in one piece. Taking off your helmet reveals it’s cracked on several spots.

Shit.

Standing up is a chore, but your pain gate hasn’t activated. The suit must have spared you the worst, it would seem.

“Charge?” you ask, looking around in the darkness. The motorbike’s nearby, and you walk towards it, struggling to get it back to a standing position. You maneuver the wheel to point the light around, looking for him in the direction of his static, until you find him lying on his back.

You leave the light pointing at him as you get closer. “Are you ok?!” you ask, but there’s no answer. His neck is trembling, as are his hands, emitting pitiful noises… You try to hold him down, but a bolt of electricity almost catches your hand. It takes a moment before you remember that your suit’s gloves should be sufficiently insulated.

You kneel next to him, making sure only the gloves come into contact to take off his helmet, cracked just like yours. Underneath, his face is contorted to the side, trembling and breathing noisily.

“Seizure,” you say, immediately starting to follow the guidelines they implanted in you. Left arm bent to the side and out of the way, right hand on his cheek, right knee raised and bent, and then roll him over on his side, then steady his chin up to clear the airways… That’s about all you can do without getting caught in the current… but what if it doesn’t stop? What if sets his emitters to a higher setting and fries you?

No. That shouldn’t happen, he can’t accidentally change the power setting in this state.

“Breathe. Breathe. Keep breathing” you say, holding his hand, going wildly against yours.

You keep him steady, hoping it does stop, until after two minutes, he finally does, going limp, breathing noisily. His emitters die down too, thankfully.

“Hey…can you hear me?” you ask, tapping his arm.

He can’t, so you repeat the question a few times, waiting. Waiting for him to come back until he finally answers with a quick nod, pressing the hand you’re holding.

It’s a relief to see him coming back to his senses somewhat, but it presents a different challenge because he’s also been in an accident on top of the seizure and you need to check if he’s ok. So you start asking him questions about his arms and legs, getting one-word responses with a delay, as he’s close to non-verbal.

Head hurts. Both arms fine. Chest fine. Right leg fine. Left leg hurts.

Nothing seems broken, which is a relief.

You try your intercom, but the pieces are broken and you can’t reassemble it without tools. You take his helmet but the inside smells burnt, he must have fried it.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, stepping up to drag the motorcycle closer to see what the damage is. That’s when you notice the rear wheel is completely bent.

Great.

“Now this thing has to have a radio…” you begin checking the features “YES! Here!” You kiss the small device, looking for the on the switch to…-

“Wait,” he says, a hand extended towards you.

“Wha… why?”

“They can’t know I had a seizure…”

“You don’t want me to call?”

“Please no,” he asks.

You look at him, finally starting to understand what’s going on…

“You're epileptic!”

“I just missed a few doses! Haven’t had one in years! If you tell them...”

It’s all too clear what would happen. If the media found out the Marshal had a seizure while speeding on the highway...

You keep staring back at him, in shock, before tossing the radio down and sitting back next to him.

“Alright… I won’t call them. It’s ok” you reassure him. “It’s going to be fine.”

He replies with a pained “Thank you”

“I’ll… I’ll fix this. Somehow.” Why are you doing this after what he just pulled on you earlier? Why do you care so much about this asshole?

Why do any of it? The answer comes almost immediately. It seems you’re not THAT dense.

It almost makes you laugh, with the absurdity of it all.

Luckily it takes you less than an hour to get a car to stop to take you back to town convincing the driver that you’re just wearing costumes for a party and crashed on the way. He asked you what kind of party this late at night and Ortega decides to intervene, claiming you’re strippers for a bachelor’s party. That works like a charm, he can make up all the answers he needs in his own mind. Ricardo is silent through the rest of the journey, you don’t know if he’s still recovering or if he simply has nothing else to say. It doesn’t really matter, because you couldn’t be more thankful for it, as the migraine explodes in full force. ____________________________ My Fanfiction: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero world. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for his wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist. Full fic is on AO3 as well https://archiveofourown.org/works/30292125/chapters/81514135

#FHR #Fallen hero Retribution #Fallen hero Rebirth #Fallen hero fanfiction #Chargestep #Ricardo Ortega #Riley #Fallen hero #Fallen Hero Spoilers

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franniebanana · 3 years

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CQL Rewatch - Ep 14

Hey, I’m getting all my screencaps from Netflix now, because I finally figured out how lol. That means I’m also getting the subtitles from there (and I’ve seen a lot of Netflix haters, but at lease we won’t get “Wei Ying, clam down” and other ridiculous errors). This is just for your reference. I hope the quality of the images will be a little bit better. So I’m both looking forward to and dreading this episode. On the plus side, the first half or so is wangxian, on the downside, the rest is not. And it marks the beginning of the Lan Wangji Drought™, and subsequently my least favorite part in the entire series (not counting the Yi City arc, which, as you may recall, I have not watched yet). But let’s get started, shall we?

We left our heroes in the Xuanyu Cave. Lan Wangji was asleep and Wei Wuxian as being thoughtful and adorable. Now they are both awake and hatching a plan to defeat the Tortoise of Slaughter. Wei Wuxian is talking about the fame and glory that they’ll receive if they defeat it, but on the other hand, if they are killed by the monster, that’s not a bad way to go. Again, even though Lan Wangji’s leg is doing better, even though they survived the first brushes with death with both the Wens and the mythical monster, here they are, about to face death again. But they have no choice, right? It’s either fight the Tortoise of Slaughter or starve. The crux of this whole arc for me is that it changes their relationship forever. You don’t almost die together and not have that change you and the relationship you have with that other person. And I think that’s what makes their reunion after several months so much harder and so much sadder (I’m itching to get to that scene, which is so far from here, ughhh).

Arts and crafts project with bae! Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I kind of love this scene, though, for what it is: the two of them quietly working together, each with his own task. There’s something kind of domestic about it, even in this dire situation. Also Lan Wangji is doing most of the work. It’s fucking hard to string/unstring a bow.

And when they’re picking up all the bows and arrows, I’m always thinking that the others made such a mess! They just chucked the arrows everywhere, dropped their bows. But why are there so many arrows on the ground? You’d think they’d mostly be in the water, as that’s where the Tortoise of Slaughter was. You know? I’m not gonna think to hard about this.

Imagine that instead of the bowstring, it’s actually one of those sticky hand things that you can swing around and stick to walls.

I spent too much time on that, I’m sorry.

Again, Lan Wangji is reminded that he’s injured and can’t be a ton of help in this situation. And I think he’s bothered by this quite a bit—not because he wants to play hero and save Wei Wuxian, but I think because he doesn’t want Wei Wuxian to bear too great a burden alone. And I think Wei Wuxian is coming from a place of caring and kindness when he points all that out. It’s not as if he wants glory either: he realizes that he is their best chance of survival, and he also knows he can count on Lan Wangji to be there for him.

This smile is so warm, so kind, so loving. Yeah, it is loving. And I do think that this sort of relationship is a big deal in the context of this story. You have two people from different clans, who have vastly different upbringings (although there are similarities with their parents’ deaths), able to come together and genuinely feel friendship for one another. This kind of thing is not that common, seemingly, in this world. It happens, right? It happens for political reasons (sworn brothers, etc.), it happens when there are marriages between clans—but we know that it isn’t common to have this particular kind of friendship, because the script literally pointed it out to us: Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. They are different—they are close, they are soulmates, even (in a platonic way). And Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are held up to them as a direct comparison (“Lan Zhan and I went on a night hunt together”). And wangxian isn’t a friendship of convenience—they weren’t forced here together and then they have to tough it out—this was all chosen. And I think this is where the whole “soulmate” conversation becomes important, in that them coming together and forming that bond in the Cloud Recesses was driven by some kind of fate. That initial meeting, those subsequent experiences they had—if those things hadn’t happened, they probably wouldn’t be in this cave together right now. That being said, the fact that they are in this cave together right now is definitely not fate. This was a choice—or a series of choices—made by the two of them. Had there been no friendship or love between these two, Lan Wangji would have left the cave with the others. Maybe Jiang Cheng would have stayed behind, or maybe someone else would have, or possibly no one! I like to think Lan Wangji would have stayed regardless of any feelings he has towards Wei Wuxian, simply because he’s that kind of person. He stands up for Mianmian because it’s the right thing to do, for example. But as things are, it’s important that Lan Wangji stayed because of Wei Wuxian—because of his feelings for him, because of their friendship, because they have this connection to each other. And I think it’s vital that Lan Wangji is the one to first see what the Yin Iron can do to a person, specifically the person he loves.

So I thought this whole little section here was just Wei Wuxian monologuing in his head the first time I watched this. And then he’s suddenly having a conversation with Lan Wangji, and I was like, “huh?” I am pretty sure I had to rewind and rewatch just so I could understand it with the newly-acquired knowledge that Wei Wuxian was actually talking to Lan Wangji. I’m find being a little confused, but would it have killed them to make Lan Wangji say, “Now we can communicate while you’re inside” or something to that extent, after using his little powers?

Anyhow, fuck, it’s horrible in there! I feel like the smell is visceral, even though I’m watching it on my laptop, it’s like I can feel the damp, air, thick with the smell of death and decay. Credit to Xiao Zhan for just really selling me on what it feels like to be in there. Also I’m so curious what they’ve got him walking through. I wish there were some BTS on that scene. I can imagine (because this is how my mind works) how difficult it was to clean his costume after that. Like that crap must have gotten into every tiny little nook and cranny of his shoes, and just YUCK! They were like, “Just throw them out. We have another pair.”

Since Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are in a sense psychically linked here, does that mean that Lan Wangji can feel the energy that Wei Wuxian feels from the sword? He’s definitely reacting to something going on, but then I think Wei Wuxian talks about it later as if Lan Wangji doesn’t know. The romantic in me says that Lan Wangji is reacting because they are so spiritually connected that he can feel when something is wrong.

And now we have this very long action sequence where Lan Wangji does a lot of flying around and Wei Wuxian clings to that sword like Harry Potter on that bucking broomstick in the first movie. I’m sorry, that’s all I think about, and that thought will never leave my mind. What’s kind of cool is that they remind us immediately that Lan Wangji is still injured, by showing us his bloody leg right at the start of this sequence. So he’s flying around, using everything he’s got left, while still being gravely injured—it shows you just how powerful Lan Wangji is. He’s no weakling.

Another cool detail is that you can actually see the staining on Wei Wuxian’s boots from the muck he was walking around in! Nice continuity!

I can’t help it, anytime Lan Wangji yells out, “Wei Ying!” I melt into a puddle on the floor. There’s something about how little he does talk that when he does, it’s important and meaningful and impactful. And, yes, most of his lines are yelling out Wei Ying’s name, but that doesn’t make it any less meaningful when he does it. Every time he says it, it’s a reminder that there is a strong relationship there. As I’ve said before, even Jiang Cheng doesn’t call him by his given name. This is not just an everyday friendship here—it’s more than that—it’s a bond that can’t be broken even in death. That might sound silly and dramatic, but it doesn’t make it any less true. And that’s why when I hear him say, “Wei Ying!” it draws to the surface all of these other feelings. It’s not just a name, it’s not just a line—it’s something so much more.

Also, I want to point out that as soon as Lan Wangji figures out something is indeed very wrong with Wei Wuxian, he goes into overdrive. His hands are bleeding from the bowstring in his hand, his teeth are gritted, he somehow reaches into himself for even more power to defeat this monster.

Seriously? How dare you interrupt my wangxian scene with this garbage? I could not care less about anything going on in this scene. Just fuck off. The worst cut ever. What a stupid cut.

So, as if the Tortoise of Slaughter wasn’t bad enough, this poor kid (because he is just a kid) is now traumatized by the voices coming out of that sword. The pain, the fear, the negative energy—all of it was coursing through him, and worst of all, perhaps, he was even able to use that energy to defeat the monster. And I think, now that he’s felt it and seen it and used it, there’s really no going back. Dangerous? Yes, it’s dangerous, but it’s also powerful, and it saved their lives.

This part kills me every time, though, no matter how many times I see it. Wei Wuxian is just a husk of the person he was ten minutes ago. Where’s that cocky, smirking smartass? Where’s the Wei Wuxian we all know and love? But the reality is, part of him is lost. And throughout the scene, he’s clutching that sword, as if his life still depended on it. He won’t let that thing go, and I also find that hard to watch. And Lan Wangji here is out of his mind, desperate to help him. He runs into the water so fast, as if there is no leg injury at all. And, of course, that’s adrenaline for you, but it’s also just a testament to his strength and resolve and his willingness to go into a literal hell for Wei Wuxian.

And even in his feverish state, Wei Wuxian can’t help but tease Lan Wangji a little, pointing out that he never expected Second Master Lan to be this concerned about him. But it’s interesting that he uses that formal title there, as if he’s putting distance between them. Wei Wuxian is just Wei Wuxian—Wei Ying—and Lan Wangji is Second Master Lan. Whether it’s intentional or not, he’s drawing attention to this hierarchical difference between them, and I don’t think it’s a self-worth issue at all, because I think Wei Wuxian is okay with who his is—I don’t think he has qualms about that really. It’s more driving home the point of we shouldn’t be this close. Or isn’t it funny that we are this close? And he later draws a parallel to Jiang Cheng (again) by saying that at least Jiang Cheng wouldn’t be a boring companion (EDIT: Okay, he doesn’t say that—maybe in the book?). Ironic, because their stay in Xuanwu cave has been anything but boring. But I also think Jiang Cheng would not have been able to maintain his cool at all in that cave. No, I think that Wei Wuxian needed Lan Wangji to survive. He needed someone a little cold, logical, quick-witted, but desperate.

OMG, ALSO! Can I point out the lovely, beautiful, haunting cello music that’s playing this whole time? Not on the OST, which is a damn shame. So you’ll have to watch the episode to hear it, but it’s just so beautiful.

And pause for the clip show that will also make you cry!

“Wangxian.” Yes, yes, the greatest mystery of this whole series—the name of the song and how Lan Wangji immediately recognized Wei Wuxian in the second episode. So I don’t think they ever actually tell you the name of the song, right? It’s like this fun little thing for the fans of the book, and maybe they couldn’t say it because of censorship (because of what it implies, you know?). I’m not a great lip reader, but it looks like “Wangxian” to me. And if he’s saying something else, I don’t care—it is going to be Wangxian to me, regardless.

Man, this scene, though. I can never really hear the humming because you have to turn up the volume so damn loud, and even then it’s hard to hear. Maybe it’s just me. The first time I watched it, I was like, is he actually humming? I don’t hear anything. I was, again, confused. But anyway, it’s good that we see all those scenes with Lan Wangji, because guess what? You’re not going to see him for three or four episodes, FML. FML. FML.

FML.

Can you tell I’m not excited about these upcoming parts? Honestly it’s so tempting to skip it, but that’s not the point of this rewatch. I likely won’t have a ton to say, though, so maybe I’ll do more than one a week (don’t count on it, though).

Okay, guys. Here we go. If you think Jiang Cheng is a kind, gentle soul with a rough exterior, then you may not want to read the next few episodes. I like Jiang Cheng. I do. However, he is an asshole. A complete and total asshole with the occasional kind word thrown someone’s way. I think he cares about Wei Wuxian, as I’ve said before, but that he cares about himself far more. He is the antithesis to Lan Wangji. And that’s definitely on purpose. So, feel free to send me asks or whatever (and that goes for anyone, by the way—I don’t bite and I like to chat with people), but you’re not going to be able to convince me even that CQL Jiang Cheng is a good guy. I think you could try and read him that way, but you’d be ignoring some key things in his behavior and his character.

All right. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s start anew. It fucking sucks that the first people Wei Wuxian sees upon waking up are Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng, both of which essentially scold him immediately, as if he didn’t fucking save their lives back there. I’m sorry, that guy right there—yeah, him—he was read to sacrifice himself to save you. Jin Zixuan, “I didn’t do it for you.” Then why? You did it for Lan Wangji? Or you did it because it would be politically advantageous to you because you were engaged to Jiang Yanli? I’m just saying, be nicer to the man who was willing to die for you, okay?

Oh, my god, as if that weren’t enough, Jiang Cheng actually gets angry that Wei Wuxian doesn’t thank him! And this isn’t some macho guy thing where he just can’t show that he cares about him—this is just who Jiang Cheng is. He thinks of himself first and others second. Period.

So aside from those two being assholes, we do at least get some information here. The clans are now all resolved to fight against the Wen Clan. They all know what’s going on and they’re finally ready to stand up against it. The Cloud Recesses is trashed and Lan Wangji left on his own to go back, presumably to take it back from the Wens. I would have loved a heartfelt scene of them getting out together, but that isn’t even in the book, so CQL isn’t going to add that kind of nice stuff, I guess. But they did add this scene, which is mostly just showcasing that Jin Zixuan and Wei Wuxian still don’t like each other, Jiang Cheng is an asshole, and the world is generally fucked up right now.

A reminder that even though he’s in the bright sunlight, Wei Wuxian still has this darkness. It’s permeated him now. He can’t turn away from it. It’s part of him. And it’s something he can’t really share with anyone else—Lan Wangji to a point, but even he doesn’t get to know everything. However, he is, I think, the only one who would have listened.

Cute detail from the book, that Wei Wuxian had carved this into his headboard. What a romantic lol. I don’t have anything special to say other than, y’know, those two could be both guys.

It’s hard to even know what to say here. So much is going on, so many emotions, so many accusations—and Wei Wuxian is caught up in all of this. Madam Yu starts by chastising him for making trouble when he didn’t need to (she thought it better to let the Jins and Lans handle things, no need for the Jiangs to get involved), and then it spirals into this horrible tirade about Jiang Fengmian being hung up on Wei Wuxian’s mother, and in turn favoring Wei Wuxian over his own son because of it. There is so much jealousy and hatred and guilt wrapped up in all of this, it’s hard to even comment. I can’t imagine growing up the way Jiang Cheng did, feeling second best in everything by someone who’s not even your actual brother, feeling like your own father doesn’t really love you as much as he loves someone else. And now throw in that your father doesn’t love your mother because he had an affair with another woman. I can’t imagine how awful that would be. And despite what people might say, it’s hard to really, truly, break away from your parents, especially in a culture like this. It’s important to honor your parents in everything, so standing up to them is a definite no-no. And Jiang Cheng probably feels like the only parent who really loves him is his mother, even though she is the worst person ever. This doesn’t excuse his behavior, but it does help explain a bit of why he does the things he does to Wei Wuxian. I think he’s itching to feel superior over him, and that he’s been extremely jealous of him for a long, long time.

And then, god, what Wei Wuxian is feeling here! He’s the first one to always take the hit for Jiang Cheng. He’s always going to do whatever he can to make him feel better. He makes the sacrifices. That’s part of who Wei Wuxian is—he’s very selfless and courageous. I also can’t imagine how he feels, to be stuck in the middle of this very personal, very private family argument. The kind of raw emotion that’s on display in this scene is hard for me to watch. It’s awkward, it’s ugly, it’s a dark side to family dynamics that a lot of us thankfully never have to experience. It’s horrible to think that even when Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were basically awaiting death in that cave, it was quite peaceful, though the landscape was harsh. And now that he’s back in this peaceful setting of Lotus Pier, he’s faced with another monster in the form of his adoptive family.

Of course Wei Wuxian knows that Jiang Fengmian doesn’t love him more—he’s harsher with Jiang Cheng because he’s the heir and he needs to be tougher, he needs to be able to lead this clan. I’m curious if Jiang Fengmian actually did have an affair, but if anything, it was probably emotional. I don’t think that Wei Wuxian is his love child or anything. But at the end of the day, the way I read this is just that the man has trouble being there for his son on an emotional level, and he feels bad for Wei Wuxian and overcompensates for that by giving him more attention. The thing is, while I don’t agree with it, I think he’s harder on his son because Jiang Cheng needs to someday lead. All Wei Wuxian needs to do is support that. And he does. He always supports Jiang Cheng. Always, that is, until Wei Wuxian finally starts to think about what he wants to do with his life, and he doesn’t want to spend it torturing people who don’t deserve it.

The Twin Prides of Yunmeng. It’s a nice idea, but it relies on Wei Wuxian submitting himself to Jiang Cheng at all times for the rest of their lives. It makes Wei Wuxian give up his agency. It makes him give up his dream to do what’s right and always have a clear conscience. If he had followed Jiang Cheng into fire, he would have had to lose himself in the process. So this is a promise that Wei Wuxian could never hope to keep. Although it’s a nice promise, it was said to make Jiang Cheng feel better.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 |

#wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #cql #the untamed #jiang cheng #jin zixuan #jiang fengmian #madam yu #wwx #lwj #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #cql rewatch

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mhalachai · 4 years

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advance snippet: Updating Wednesdays on Patreon (The Untamed)

So. Do I need to write an Untamed modern!AU with a college twist (Lan Xichen is a music professor in Canada) in which Wei Wuxian attempts to self-therapy himself by creating a graphic novel fantasy AU version of his life (aka the real story of Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation) and Lan Xichen attempts to rebuild his life after a toxic relationship ended? I mean probably not but has that ever stopped me? here’s the intro snippet we’ll see how things go.

(Title is tentatively Updating Wednesdays on Patreon because i don’t know what to call this thing)

The first day of August finds Lan Xichen in a coffee shop, tinkering with the syllabus for his new music theory course, when his phone pings with a message.

> Lan Wangji: Brother.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Ying has asked me to inform you that he will be publishing the first collection of pages in his new graphic novel on Patreon this afternoon.

Lan Xichen smiles at Lan Wangji's tone. For all that his little brother is more verbose in electronic communication than verbal, he's always so exact.

> To Lan Wangji: Can't wait! What's it about?

The little cursor blinks for a while as Lan Wangji continues to type. Lan Xichen just hopes that his brother-in-law's creative enthusiasm isn't running up against Lan Wangji's sensibilities.

Finally, a reply appears.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Ying wants me to tell you that it is completely fictional.

This gives Lan Xichen pause. Why on earth would Wei Wuxian, or Lan Wangji himself for that matter, need to make that declaration?

> Lan Wangji: It is a high fantasy xianxia story.

Before Lan Xichen can ask why that is causing this odd message exchange, another notification pops up on his phone.

> Wei Wuxian: Lan Xichen! Lan Zhan types so slow! It's just a different art style I wanted to try out and it snowballed from there!

> Wei Wuxian: I know you follow me on Patreon so you're going to get the notification this afternoon so I wanted to warn you hahaha

> Wei Wuxian: All names and places are purely fictional. I don't really have a sword.

Another message arrives, with all the information Lan Xichen needs.

> Lan Wangji: This matters a great deal with Wei Ying.

Lan Xichen smiles at his brother's words. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have been together since their junior year of high school, through a great deal of personal difficulties on both sides, and are still as fiercely protective of each other as ever. He loves them both for it.

> To Lan Wangji: Thank you for the information. I'm sure it will be great.

> To Wei Wuxian: Can't wait to see it! Anything you do is always great.

No more messages arrive, so Lan Xichen goes back to considering how to change the quiz structure of his musical theory class to avoid a marking crisis with the evaluation of his ensemble class.

Finally, as Lan Wangji gathers up his papers to leave, one last message comes in on his phone.

> Lan Wangji: Thank you for your support. We all appreciate it.

Attached to the message is a photo taken of Lan Wangji's family, he and Wei Wuxian holding Lan Yuan between them. The toddler grins at the camera, his arms around Wei Wuxian's neck. Wei Wuxian's looks at the camera, dark circles under his eyes like he's working through the night again, while Lan Wangji only has eyes for his husband.

It's so wholesome and loving that a sliver of pain rakes through Lan Xichen's heart. He's happy for his brother. His brother deserves the world. Lan Wangji deserves being loved, and to love.

Not everyone gets that. Sometimes, that falls apart.

Sometimes, for some people, love is just an illusion.

Lan Xichen tucks his phone away and leaves the coffee shop.

He gets home mid-afternoon, and spends a while stowing away the groceries he picked up on his walk. The neighbourhood has several Greek and Persian markets and he's able to buy most of what he needs on foot, saving the Chinese markets in Richmond for his weekly dim sum brunches with Lan Wangji's family when he can borrow the use of Lan Wangji's sensible and economical mini-van.

He doesn't drive any more, not since—

Lan Xichen stops and puts down the bag of avocados. His mind is a funny place, bringing up the oddest things at the most inconvenient of times.

He doesn't drive anymore. He doesn't need to, using the bus and the odd taxi to transport his instruments up to the university for performances. The public transit system is so much better.

Safer.

He goes back to putting away the vegetables, pulls out a cookbook (new, spine uncreased, bought for him by Lan Qiren for his birthday) and opens it at random. He's never had coconut curry salmon before, but he has all the ingredients.

Trying new things. He's supposed to be trying new things.

The recipes says it will only take half an hour to make, so he goes up to his office and turns on his computer to check his work email. The message fly fast and furious, some about the new department head, some about class enrollment, a few from students asking if they can get onto his waitlist. He replies to the most urgent, files the rest, then checks his personal email.

The notification from Wei Wuxian's Patreon is up, so Lan Xichen clicks it.

Then he sits back, frankly impressed. He's seen Wei Wuxian's comic style progress since the boy was drawing silly cartoons to entertain Lan Wangji in history class, but even he wasn't prepared for this.

The art is gorgeous. Stylized figures, intricate period costuming, rich backgrounds – it's truly a work of art.

Then he gets a better look the two characters' faces, and laughs out loud. It's Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, clear as day, with long hair and flowing robes. Wei Wuxian's even managed to capture that exasperated-yet-fond look Lan Wangji has whenever Wei Wuxian is being particularly loud.

The introduction is even better. "Join our hero Lan Wangji and dashing rogue Wei Wuxian as they battle deadly monsters and forge a path with demonic cultivation!"

Wei Wuxian hasn't even changed their names. True, he uses his mother's surname professionally, so Cangse Ying can't be easily tracked back, but still.

Lan Xichen wonders for a moment if Lan Wangji is okay with this, but then he notices that the project text is available in both English and in Chinese, with the Chinese written in Lan Wangji's style.

They worked on this together, then.

Trying not to think about why that makes his chest feel funny, Lan Xichen opens to the first page--

-- Which features a bruised and bloodied Wei Wuxian falling off a cliff while a horrified Lan Wangji screams after him.

Confused, Lan Xichen makes sure he hasn't accidentally read the last page first. No, this is the first. Still a little baffled, he clicks to the next page, sees the stylized banner that reads six years ago and relaxes. This is Wei Wuxian's style of using flashbacks to interrupt the narrative flow. Lan Xichen spent most of Lan Wangji's university years hearing his brother's despair for Wei Wuxian's artistic choices in essay form.

But enough about the past. Lan Xichen settles in to read the first chapter of the story, where Wei Wuxian and his siblings (Jiang Yanli drawn lovingly, Jiang Cheng with a bigger frown and more menacing eyebrows than Lan Xichen remembers) traveled to the Cloud Recesses (the sarcastic nickname Wei Wuxian gave to Lan Qiren's West Vancouver mansion) for cultivator lectures. Lan Xichen is there on the page, too, drawn taller and far more imposing than he is in real life.

The first encounter between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji is fantastical and improbable and, according to Lan Xichen's recollection, almost completely accurate. Wei Wuxian had mouthed off at Lan Wangji at the weekend orientation camp for their new arts high school, Lan Wangji glared the boy into submission, then later that night when Wei Wuxian tried to sneak back onto school grounds with alcohol, he and Lan Wangji had gotten into a fight. Verbal, instead of with swords, and without the supernatural murder victims, but Lan Xichen remembered everything else from Lan Wangji's indignant recitation on his return home.

He keeps reading, enjoying the art and the lyrical narration, and keeps enjoying it right up to the scene when Nie Huaisang appears on the page to offer Lan Qiren a present, Meng Yao standing right behind him.

Lan Xichen doesn't remember standing up, but here he is, two feet away from his computer, heart pounding. He hadn't—Why—

What was Meng Yao doing in a story about Wei Wuxian's high school years?

Taking a deep breath, Lan Xichen makes himself return to his desk. As far as he knew, he was the one who introduced Meng Yao to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, when the boys were in university and after he and Meng Yao started dating--

Lan Xichen can feel his heartbeat slow, as he tries to breathe. He needs to stop this foolishness over Meng Yao. They dated before living together for a while, that was all. They broke up. It happens to people all the time.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were in college for most of that time, anyway, living their lives. They barely knew Meng Yao, even if Wei Wuxian's sister married Meng Yao's half-brother. They couldn't know how badly Lan Xichen had messed up their relationship, how terrible he had been to live with. It was his fault that—

Stop.

It's over. In the past. A story that has Meng Yao as a minor character isn't going to mess with Lan Xichen's head. He's not going to let it.

He exhales and makes himself look back at the screen.

Meng Yao only shows up a few more times. For some reason, he's the only character who isn't tagged with his own name. He's there handing over the present to Lan Qiren, standing in front of Nie Huaisang when the Wens arrive, then in two last panels in which he tells the on-screen Lan Xichen that he has to return to Nie Mingjue's side.

Lan Xichen's stomach sours. He and Nie Mingjue had been close, before Meng Yao came into Lan Xichen's life. After that, Lan Xichen hadn't had much time for anyone else. That was normal, Meng Yao always said. People in love only needed each other.

Lan Xichen picks up his phone, then puts it down. He can't ask Lan Wangji about this. It would be weird. Wei Wuxian must just be making artistic narrative choices.

The chapter ends soon after, with Wen Qing and Wen Ning welcomed grudgingly into Cloud Recesses. The next chapter is due up in two weeks, the page declares, and welcomes any comments or feedback. A few people are already posting, gushing over the art work and discussing the teaser from the opening page.

Wanting to be supportive, Lan Xichen writes a small review, complimenting the artistic style, the intricacies of the outfits, poses a query as to the different colour palettes between the first page (dark, red, menacing) and the flashback scenes in Cloud Recesses (light, airy, hopeful), then translates the comment into English and posts both versions up. If Lan Wangji is going though all the trouble of ensuring a bilingual experience, then he will too.

He should go start dinner, he really should, but some part of him is drawn back to the first panel in which Meng Yao appears. He's shorter than Lan Xichen remembers in life, the long hair and braids suiting his face.

It's been so long since Lan Xichen last saw Meng Yao. He's not sure what he's thinking. Is he wistful? Mournful? Sad?

He doesn't know. He never knows what he feels about Meng Yao, which was the problem. He's not normal about feelings. Even Lan Wangji, whose brain is a unique and complicated thing, looking for order and reason and patterns in an illogical and messy world, loves fiercely, feels passionately. Maybe he got all the love in the family, and Lan Xichen got stuck with the stunted and undergrown heart.

Stirring, he pages back to the first appearance of his on-screen twin. The Lan Xichen on the screen looks patient, kind, a smile hiding behind his eyes.

He hadn't realized this is how Wei Wuxian sees him.

He picks up his phone.

> To Wei Wuxian: What an incredible achievement! The art is amazing!

> To Wei Wuxian: Where is the story from? As it's a work of fiction and has nothing to do with your real life ;)

> Wei Wuxian: Oh hahahha the story is a collaboration of a bunch of ideas! I can't tell u more (sworn to secrecy by my collaborators) but so glad you like it!!!!!!

> To Lan Wangji: Did you do the writing? I love the dialogue.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Wuxian did most of the English. I made it better and did the translation.

> To Lan Wangji: Have you told uncle about this project?

> Lan Wangji: He prefers to speak of my composition achievements.

Lan Xichen puts his phone down and rubs his eyes. The old tension between Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji never goes away. It started in high school with Lan Qiren's disapproval of Wei Wuxian, continued into university with Lan Qiren's disapproval of Wei Wuxian as well as Lan Wangji's decision to attend a local university for musical studies instead of going to Julliard in Lan Xichen's footsteps, and outrage at the news that Lan Wangji asked Wei Wuxian to marry him before they even finished their undergraduate degrees.

The resulting years had been a long-standing cold war, with Lan Xichen trying to mediate in the middle. Even the arrival of Lan Yuan on the scene twenty months previous hadn't softened both sides into anything resembling ease.

If Lan Wangji doesn't want to tell their uncle that he and his husband are collaborating on a semi-biographical graphic novel, Lan Xichen isn't going to muddy the waters.

> To Lan Wangji: It sounds like you're enjoying the project.

> Lan Wangji: Working with Wei Ying on any project is enjoyable. I read that couples with young children should try to engage in a mutual hobby outside of parenting.

> To Lan Wangji: Very wise.

He wonders if he should ask about Meng Yao, types out a message to that effect, then deletes it.

> To Lan Wangji: I should start dinner – see you on the weekend for brunch?

>Lan Wangji: Yes.

Lan Xichen puts his phone down. The days are long in August and the sun still bright, but he's tired and he doesn't know why.

anyway that’s where this whole disaster is going. new fandoms are fun.

#the untamed #my writing #teaser snippet of a new story #i have 14000 words written #trying to get is mostly done before popping up on ao3

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