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garbagevanfleet · 4 years ago

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Brightest Blue (series)

PART TEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS 18+ ONLY! sexual content (finally), pot use, alcohol use Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: Okay, guys. If you missed it, this chapter is NSFW. This was the best to write, seriously. Love you all, don't be afraid to tell me what you think of it!

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @lara-gvf @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack

MASTERPOST

Two weeks before the Saturday of the play, the forecast had called for a blizzard. “Polar vortex” they had called it on the tv at school, flashing graphics of a polar bear wearing a scarf.

After classes on Friday, you had asked Kate if she wanted to go for coffee. You had been working like a dog on the play - sewing and painting to the point where your fingers perpetually hurt and the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes was the shade of green that every foliage prop was painted.

You ordered a caramel macchiato and genuinely tried to enjoy it, propping your legs up on the chair next to her.

“So,�� she started, eyeing you like she had a bone to pick. She still looked so pretty when she was coming for your life. “We’ve been so busy with Josh, we haven’t had any alone time to talk about Trevor.”

You sucked in a deep breath and relaxed your stiff neck muscles, achy from behind hunched over while sewing. “Yeah. I kind of forgot about it, to be honest.”

“I have not, however. So dish,” she requested, reaching into her purse and pulling out a tube of lipstick. She applied it carefully in her phone camera as you spoke.

“Josh did it,” you admitted, making her eyes flick over to you momentarily. “I mean, I still slapped him, but Josh was the one that gave him a black eye.”

“And how do you feel about that?” she asked carefully.

You shrugged, wrapping your fingers tightly around your cup, half to leech the heat, and half because you were anxious. “I don’t know. I was kind of upset, but only because he could have gotten kicked out of school for that.”

She just nodded for you to continue as she cleaned up the lines around her lips with a paper napkin.

“I mean, and for what? He could have been arrested. Just for revenge. I feel like the best revenge would be just be keeping your head high.” You rolled your eyes at the beginning of your statement, just for emphasis.

She stared at you blankly as she picked up her mug. “Aren’t you flattered? I wish a guy would punch one of my hookups.”

“I mean, it’s cute, but I feel like he did it more for himself - for his own pride, you know?”

Her expression changed then to something a little heavier, her features sharpening in accusation. “Are you for real? Like, for real, for real?”

You frowned at her, feeling like you were being scolded. “What are you talking about?”

She let out a long breath, looking dumbstruck. “I haven’t really pressed it because I guess I just thought it was something that everyone knew but wasn’t talking about but-” She paused, putting her hand over yours on the table just to really drive the point home.

“That boy has it bad for you.”

You knew your expression was ridiculous by the way she looked at you with pity. “What the hell are you talking about? Josh? Are we talking about Josh?”

She closed her eyes, pursed her lips, and nodded.

“Kiszka?” you tried again, still refusing to let her statement sink in.

“Yes,” she said through a laugh. “Yes, your roommate Josh. Curly hair, hippy bullshit - that guy. I swear to God I thought you knew. I mean, there were times when I was like ‘does she actually know?’ but then I thought ‘there’s no way she lives with him and doesn’t know that’. You’re telling me I was wrong?”

You were struck silent for a few long moments. “Are you sure?”

Thankfully, she was looking at you like you were a puppy with its head stuck in a peanut butter jar. “Look at me. He punched a guy in the face for you.”

You closed your eyes and tried to suppress a smile. “I don’t know.”

“Okay. There’s supposed to be a huge snowstorm this weekend. Now that you’ve heard me say it, return to me on Monday - after spending all weekend in the same place as him - and tell me you don’t see it then,” she said simply.

“Okay, I will,” you challenged.

“Okay, you do that,” she quipped with a smirk, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest confidently.

+++

In preparation, you had gone grocery shopping together, picking out everything you’d need to be stuck in the apartment together. He had even made you take him to a thrift store, just so he could see if there was anything fun. In the end, he had come out with a card game in a box, still wrapped.

Saturday morning the snow started falling, this time in huge, fluffy flakes, and it wasn’t supposed to stop until Monday evening.

While Josh was in the shower, you decided to get everything ready for the evening’s festivities that you had planned together. You had gone to find a good cheese board at the market until you found out they were too pricey for your (nearly nonexistent) budget, so you ended up laying out different crackers and cheeses onto a circular pizza pan.

By the time he got out of the shower, you had grapes, pickles, olives, and chocolates laid out on the coffee table, and he caught you just as you were pouring each of you a glass of wine.

The charcuterie was his idea - actually, the first thing he suggested when you said you wanted to have a fun night in on Saturday. The three different kinds of alcohol had been your idea.

“Okay, it’s all yours,” he informed as he trotted out from his bedroom, dressed in a fresh set of clothes.

The shower was still warmed up, the mirror still steamy. You got a towel out and stepped in under the spray.

You took the time to enjoy washing and conditioning your hair - your mom had been sweet enough to send you some of the expensive kind you love. Once you had hinted over the phone that you were homesick and the smell of it reminded you of home, she was already googling it.

Once you felt sufficiently clean, you stepped out and dried off. The clothes you had taken into the bathroom weren’t anything special - you had chosen comfort over aesthetic - but they were warm, which is what you really needed as the snow fell outside.

When you joined him back in the living room, Josh was waiting patiently on the couch.

“Ready?” he asked, handing you your glass of wine.

“You didn’t have to wait for me.” You gestured down at the untouched food.

He smiled at you. “I know.”

You sipped at your drink as he gestured to the tv.

“Movie for background noise?”

You hummed in thought. “Maybe music?”

He nodded in agreement. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever you pick will be perfect.”

By the time he had made a selection, you had nearly finished your glass of wine. “So, the costumes are coming along well. I got the cutest lace for the trimmings of Alice’s dress. I’m not sure you’ll even be able to see it from the audience, but she’ll look adorable in pre and post-performance pictures.”

He shot you a beaming smile. “That’s some master craft. Your attention to detail is unrivaled.”

You knew that he was just playing, but it still made your stomach flip.

“Should we play our card game?” he suggested, padding over to the kitchen and snatching the bottle of wine off the counter.

You watched his movements as he poured your glass full again. “Thank you. Yeah, we can. Or did you want to be drunker first?”

He hummed. “One shot each?”

“Of vodka?” you inquired as you picked yourself off of the couch. “Where are the shot glasses?”

“I don’t think I own any,” he admitted as he watched you rifle through the cupboards.

You shot him a shocked look. “You’re a college kid; why would you not own a shot glass?”

“Well, we haven’t needed it thus far. I don’t throw a lot of parties if you haven’t noticed.” He gestured around the empty room. “We’ll each just take a pull from the bottle?”

“Okay, you first,” you agreed, thrusting the bottle at his chest. He took it from your grasp with a smirk and then pressed his lips to the rim. He drank until the count of three before swallowing hard and passing it along.

You followed suit, except with more difficulty. He had made it look so easy, you had almost forgotten how vodka tasted. You swiped your thumb across your lips, wiping them dry in the process.

You took your seats back on the couch next to each other as the music played through the room.

“Charcuterie?” you offered, gesturing to the coffee table full of food.

“Yes, of course.”

As you watched him make a cracker sandwich, you spoke. “So, should we crack this game open?”

After he nodded excitedly, you ripped into the plastic wrap.

“Okay, it looks like it’s essentially just a questions game. We just draw one at a time and the other person answers them,” you explained after skimming the inside of the box. “And you have to finish your drink if you can’t answer it.”

He laughed. “Okay, ladies first. I’m ready.”

You pushed the stack of cards over at him. “No way, you ask me first,” you stated with a cheeky smile.

He raised his eyebrows at you but relented. As he plucked a card from the deck, he took a sip of wine.

“What is your favorite color?” he asked, leaning in and squinting like the information you were about to provide was essential to his existence.

You snorted. “Really?” He nodded, prompting you to continue. You hummed as you thought about it. “It’s blue.”

“What kind of blue? Like navy or sky?”

You shook your head. “No, more like that blue that’s so blue it hurts your eyes. The one that was a new pigment discovered not that long ago - so bright it hurts.”

He gave you a sincere smile. “That’s a good pick.”

“What’s yours?”

“That’s not how this game works,” he said through a breathy laugh.

You frowned at him. “Yeah, well. Then I’m asking you as a friend. Josh, what is your favorite color?”

He pursed his lips as he considered his answer. “It’s hard for me to pick, but maybe either red or orange.”

You nodded in agreement as you reached for the deck. “I could see that. Okay, your turn.”

You stared at the card in your hand that read, WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU SLEPT WITH?

“Are you alright?”

You snapped your eyes up to him, quickly nodding as you realized that he had been waiting patiently for you to read it.

“Okay,” he agreed cautiously. “That’s good. What’s the question?”

You couldn’t suppress an awkward smile as a heat rose to your face.

“It says, ‘who is the last person you slept with?’,” you informed in a humored tone. You even held it up for him to see.

He stared at the card like it just accused him of a heinous act. “You really got to answer the color question and I have to answer this?”

His intensity made you snort a laugh, though you were trying to hold yourself together so you didn’t spill your wine. “Okay, okay. I’ll answer it too. Maybe we can play the game where we both just answer it.”

“Do you just want to hear me talk about sex?” he prompted with a shit-eating grin.

You gave him a disbelieving look. “Are you- You’re the one that picked this game out!”

Your overreaction was clearly exactly what he had been looking for. You were anticipating his ribbing to continue, but it didn’t.

“The last person I had sex with,” he started, pressing his lips against the rim of his glass as he took a swig. “Was from my music theory class.”

“When?” you quickly asked, shocking even yourself.

“Is that part of the question?” he teased smugly, picking a kalamata olive off of the tray and piercing it with his finger before popping it in his mouth.

You licked your lips nervously. “No, it isn’t,” you admitted. “You don’t have to answer that, I was just curious.”

“You wanna get high?”

He was staring directly into your eyes when you looked up at him again.

“I feel like it’ll make it easier to answer these.”

You nodded at him, biting your bottom lip. “Yes. Yes, I do want to.”

“My room?” he asked, picking up both of your glasses as he stood.

“Your room,” you confirmed, following suit.

Through the slats in his blinds, you could see that the ground was completely covered in a white blanket of snow. You spent some time watching it fall from his bed as he packed a bowl.

“Here,” he said gently to get your attention. “You take the first hit. I’m going to light it and you’re going to suck in and hold it in.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Not too much though,” he warned.

The glass was cool in your hands as you took it from him. When he held the flame to it, you did as you were told before exhaling with care. He was looking at you with a proud expression when you met his eyes.

You handed it back over to him, waiting until he was in the process of taking a hit before you spoke.

“Tell me when you slept with her,” you demanded calmly, biting back a smirk at the way his breathing faltered.

It had turned into a game of chicken as you held each other’s gazes silently.

“You haven’t even answered the required question yet and you want me to do the extra credit?” he quipped.

“The last person I fucked was a guy from tinder back home, and it happened a couple of months before I left,” you informed him confidently. “I’ve only ever had one boyfriend, and he was a prick, so when we broke up, I went on a tinder bender just to feel something.”

A small smile spread across his pink lips as he listened.

“Now you.”

“She was my girlfriend last year. We broke up in April and I had a hard time saying no to late-night texts until the end of June.” His tone was sincere as far as you could tell, as were his eyes.

You were starting to feel the hit you’d taken by then, and you took a pause from the conversation to lean over the side of his bed and grab the bag of suckers you knew was waiting there for this very occasion.

The high washed over you in a gentle, pleasant manner, leaving you feeling a little dreamy.

“Sucker?” you asked, holding the bag open for him. He breathed a laugh - probably at you offering him his own candy - and then plucked one from the bag.

After he had it unwrapped, he held the bowl out to you again. “Want another? Or am I going to have to smoke the rest of this myself?”

“Yes, I’m sure that would be very rough on you, poor baby,” you teased.

He huffed a laugh, sitting up a bit straighter in his position. “You want another one or not?”

You stared at him wordlessly for longer than was socially acceptable, but when you finally spoke, it was with conviction. “I’ll have another baby hit.” You pulled the cards from the pocket of your pajama pants. “But then we’re playing another card, right?.”

He glanced down at the bowl and then back up to you. “When you say ‘baby hit’-”

“I mean I want you to blow it into my mouth with your mouth,” you explained cheekily, making him huff a laugh.

“You liked that, huh?” he asked, risking a dark glance up at you through his long lashes as his fingers played along the glass piece.

You knew exactly what you wanted to say - could hear it in your head, but your body felt tight with nerves at the thought of actually saying it. “Not as much as you did, I’m guessing.”

Oh, damn, you said it.

A smirk played across his mouth, his eyes half hooded. If you hadn’t been paying attention, you would have thought he was completely unaffected by your teasing, but you had been listening to his breathing, so you were perfectly aware when it changed slightly. It was just the smallest difference in sound like he was pulling in air through tighter lungs.

“Be careful with what you’re accusing people of.” A warning, definitely, but almost more of a challenge. In the months that you’d spent with him, you’d never seen him like that, but you suppose you wouldn’t have unless- Unless you were about to make him do something truly reckless.

You bit your bottom lip out of an anxious, excited energy. “Oh, my mistake then.”

The ball was in his court, and you could tell that he was expecting him to continue pressing him. A look of slight disappointment flashed behind his eyes, but you weren’t done yet.

You nodded toward the bowl, prompting him to glance down at it like he had forgotten what he was doing in the game he was playing with you. He kept eye contact with you as he brought it to his mouth and lit it. You watched the white smoke circle the inside of the globe before he sucked it into his lungs.

You tilted your chin up in invitation and tried to relax your muscles as he leaned in, his throat looking tight.

You felt his nose brush yours first before you realized you had closed your eyes in anticipation. The smoky smell hit you first when you realized you were supposed to be taking it from him. You opened your eyes and tried to breathe it all in, but most of it was lost to the room.

He had a tiny smirk playing on his features until you reached out and wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, pressing his forehead against yours in an abrupt motion. You could tell he had his teeth clenched by how tight his jaw looked.

You couldn’t stop yourself from playing your fingers along the sharp line of it.

“Do you want me?” you whispered, voice barely there at all.

Through a labored breath, he responded with a smoky sounding, “What would give you that impression?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, but unsurprisingly, it came out sounding raw. Your fingers brushed across the short hair on the nape of his neck, the pleasant feeling causing his eyelids to flutter.

You leaned forward until you pressed your cheekbone against his, lips right by his ear, and pointedly asked, “Do. You. Want. Me?”

“Fucking of course, I do,” he spat through clenched teeth, sounding distressed as his hands wrapped around your waist, thumbs pressed into your hipbones on either side.

“Should we?” you asked, pulling back so you could see his face.

“Probably not.” His words were humored, a melodic laugh accompanying them, but still somehow managed to not sound any less strained.

You considered what he was saying for a moment, relishing in the idea that this was the last moment before the point of no return. “Just one hookup,” you reasoned.

He smirked at you, looking all too smug and disbelieving. “Okay,” he agreed.

Patiently, you waited for him to make the first move, your heartbeat bouncing around like a basketball in your chest. When you felt his hands move from your hips, your body tensed, trying to predict where they’d end up next.

As he cupped your jaw with both hands, you melted a little, muscles noticeably relaxing.

The kiss was tentative at first - just a brushing of his lips on yours like he was testing the waters. He held your face like he was afraid that you were going to vanish into thin air - like your presence was the key to his existence.

You could hear his shallow breaths as he opened his mouth, pressing it against yours. His tongue tasted like the orange sucker he’d abandoned on its wrapper on top of the dresser next to his bed. You lapped at it, body rising as you shifted to crawl into his lap. With the way he was sitting, cross-legged on his bed straddling him was a bit of a strain on your inner thighs, but the feeling was oddly pleasing - like a warm-up for the workout you were about to endure.

He let go of your face to place his hands back on your hips, pulling your body as close to his as it physically could be. Before he could situate you too firmly, you started to unbutton your pajama shirt, and bless his heart, he couldn’t help but watch your fingers work.

“Is this really happening, or this just a super high fever dream?” he asked, shaking his head as he frowned like he wasn’t sure he could trust his eyes.

You wanted to laugh at him, but you could hardly blame his disbelief. If someone had told you even earlier that week that you’d be in this position, you would have rolled your eyes at them. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted this until it was about to happen.

The last button undone, you let the garment fall, the pink and white striped fabric slipping off the bed and to the hardwood.

The cool air was shocking on your bare skin at first, causing it to tighten - well, that and you could practically feel his eyes raking over your chest.

“It’s happening,” you assured, leaning in until you were speaking against his parted lips.

The feeling of him brushing the pads of his fingers over your nipple made your breathing shudder. When you tipped your head back, he ducked in and pressed his mouth to your throat, dragging a stripe across your skin with the flat of his tongue. Every part of your whole body felt hot, but none more than between your legs. You tried to grind yourself down on him, but couldn’t seem to get a good angle - luckily, he seemed to notice, and halted your movements with his hands on your hips, stretching his legs out straight.

He pulled back just far enough to see your face when he ground you down onto him, the outline of his cock slipping against your core. Even with all the layers between you, the feeling still made you crumble against him, a whine escaping your lips of its own volition. It was clear that he felt it too as he bit his lip, his eyes fluttering.

You seized the opportunity to get your fingers under his shirt, lifting it over his head as he held his arms up for you. Before he could prepare for it, you pressed closer, pressing a kiss to his temple and then nipping at his earlobe. The cool metal of his earring was pleasing against your tongue, and you reveled in the moment as he sucked in a sharp, shocked breath.

His hands snaked around your sides, palms wide as he cupped your ass and used the leverage to pull you against him again. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, he let a shaky breath escape him.

You could feel his thumbs hook under the elastic band of your pajama bottoms as he started to slip them down the cleft of your ass. Once it was bare, he ran his fingers over it, movement stalling as he looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Are you not wearing panties?”

You scoffed. “Not to bed, obviously. Are you implying that you wear something under those loose pants?”

The corners of his lips tilted up in a wicked smirk. “I encourage you to find out.”

You giggled at his confidence, sweetly nudging your forehead against his, so he didn’t expect the swift movement of your hand as you tugged the tie of his sweats down. The answer to your previous question was “no” - he hissed as you grabbed his erection, swiping your thumb across the head, glossy from the dim light through the blinds. It was just a tease though, because a split second later, you let go of it in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your mouth against his again.

As you pressed him back, he tried to hold you, but once he realized you weren’t just leaning on him for support, he relented. You laid him back on his bed, pulling back as you slipped your bottoms off the rest of the way.

“Jesus,” he breathed as his eyes took in the whole of your naked body above him. “Hang on.”

He reached to the bedside table and grabbed the bowl and lighter. After he sucked in another hit and set the piece back down, he tugged you in roughly, depositing the smoke directly into your mouth. You tried to hold it in like he had taught you, but you were much more interested in getting your tongue into his mouth.

Still, you were plenty high, so much so that looking down on his bare form had tears threatening your eyes. He looked so soft and sweet despite the position he was in, his eyes half-lidded and one hand behind his head, one on your bare hip.

You shifted until you could grind your core against the length of him, the wetness letting it slip through easily.

“Fuck.” You had thought it was an exclamation of pleasure until you opened your eyes and saw a scowl painted across his face. “I definitely don’t have a condom.”

You hummed through a smile. “I don’t blame you, I definitely didn’t expect this.”

He frowned up at you. “We can just try something else if you want,” he offered.

“Well, I’m on birth control, and given the length of time between our last sexual encounters, I’m guessing we’re both clean - I know I am.”

He stared at you for a long moment before really realizing what you were implying, but once he did, he licked his lips in consideration.

“Come here.” You weren’t sure what he was requesting until he grabbed onto your thighs and guided you up until you were straddling his face.

The thought of it made you blush, and surely your cheeks were hot to the touch.

He started with broad strokes of his tongue, just dragging it through. You briefly wished he had a headboard for you to brace yourself on, but your thoughts quickly became completely incoherent. You decided you were going to lean back instead, placing your palms flat on his bent knees. When you were completely comfortable and situated, he started pointedly flicking his tongue against your clit directly, first very soft and teasing, but building to something rougher and more deliberate.

You thought you were actually going to shake apart when he sucked your clit right into his mouth, rolling the bead of it around on the flat surface. When you could feel yourself getting close to the edge, you threaded your fingers through his curls, keeping him close.

The moment you lost it, everything in the room melted away from you - just a black expanse with flicks of color littered throughout it.

You took a moment to catch your breath, trying to bring yourself, at least partly, back to reality. When you pulled away from him, you were met with the sight of him - the entire bottom half of his face slick with your come.

He only let you watch in fascination as it dripped from his chin for a second before he was pushing you back, your head laid at the foot of the bed. He slipped his sweats off the rest of the way before crawling over you.

There was no way you could have blamed him as he pushed in, seemingly not having any time for a slow entrance - you did make him sit there, untouched, for god knows how long. You certainly couldn’t name even a rough estimate for the amount of time passed.

The spark of pleasure that shot through you made you throw your head back, your spine arching as you let out a whine.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” he breathed, through tight teeth.

“Yes,” you hissed as you ground yourself down onto him. “Keep going.”

Your eyes were closed, but you were sure he was wearing an awed expression. You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in until your foreheads were pressed together. When he started to move his hips, you let out a long, pleased hum, pressing your nails into the skin on his shoulders.

Your whole lower half was still incredibly sensitive, so every time he brushed you, it made you writhe a bit beneath him. “Mm, fuck,” you growled as he intentionally reached down and pressed his thumb into your clit, the feeling resting somewhere between “just perfect” and “way too much”.

He was biting his lip as he watched your reaction intently. You felt his hand snake down your outer thigh, gripping it from the bottom. He lifted it up, near-forcing you to wrap it around his hip.

The new angle was a different kind of feeling - something hot deeper in your gut like someone placed a smoldering ember in your belly. You weren’t paying attention to anything but your own impending orgasm, so you didn’t expect it when he sucked your nipple into his mouth. He raked his teeth over the bud, causing your hips to jerk against him.

When you opened your eyes and met his, you took a moment to absorb his expression - like he was seeing another dimension through your face.

You could tell he was close when his lips fell open, but that was perfect because he was taking you with him. You hitched your legs around his hips and squeezed, letting your head tip back.

When you came a second time, it was with his open mouth pressed to your throat, his hot breath hitting your damp skin. You let out a low whine, fingers tangled in his hair, probably a little too tight.

You suspected it was probably your muscles clenching in orgasm around him that set him off, a string of expletives falling from his kiss-swollen lips. His hips shuddered as he fucked you through it.

The other side of your collective climax was warm and fuzzy, like watching home videos from the ‘60s. When he was able to hold himself all the way up, you ran your fingers through his damp curls affectionately.

He was clearly trying to get his bearings, his breath flowing in and out of him like a tide.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, sounding like he might not be able to speak any louder than he currently was if he wanted to.

You hummed through a smile. “So good, Maybe never better.”

He rubbed his nose against yours, the smallest hint of an upward tilt to his lips. “I’m high as hell, so I’m not sure what’s acceptable for our situation right now, but can I kiss you?”

“We probably shouldn’t,” you admitted, making his expression fall slightly.

He nodded at you in reluctant agreement. “You’re right.”

You bit your bottom lip. “Ah, fuck it, we’ll start going back to normal tomorrow.”

#josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka #Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #brightest blue fic #gvf #gvf fic

274 notes · View notes

seacottons · 4 years ago

Text

pan — ; hongjoong x reader

pairing: k.hj x reader

wc: 1.6k

notes: pixie!reader. peterpan!hj. lostboys!99line. captainhook!hwa. smee!jongho. fluff. brief make-out session. suggestive dialogue. this is a really dumb, embarrassing, self-indulgent thing i wrote on a whim just to experiment with the whole fairy!au. also, reader is human sized as opposed to tinkerbell's size in the movies.

synopsis: not even pixie dust sparkles like the way hongjoong's eyes do when he looks at you.

Hongjoong's eyes trained onto the residue pixie dust dappling the underside of leaves and moss covered tree trunks. With a small smirk finding its way onto his face, he trudged further into the mouth of the forest, footsteps as light and airy as the puffs of clouds above. With the arrival of autumn, reds and browns paint the forest floor with crispy foliage. Fruit and flowering trees, shrubs, and vines coalesce into a vast, beautiful forest sacred to the fae.

Beams of sunlight penetrate the porous canopy of leaves and trees, and the chirping of crickets could be heard in the distance. His face instantly brightened as he took in your form from behind a large tree. For a fleeting moment, he watched as you reached up to gather the flowering buds off the tree above you, admiring the way the streams of sunlight illuminate your wings.

"How's the prettiest pixie in all of Wonderland doing today?"

You startled at the voice behind you, wings stiffening upright as you swiveled around to be met with nothing but rustling flowering trees and the verdant tapestry that swathes the entire forest. Turning back around, you gasped and stumbled back, nearly dropping the basket of blossoms as Hongjoong hung upside down to face you. You pursed your lips in annoyance as he let out a mischievous snicker, "I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that!"

"I'm sorry, love. You're just fun to tease is all," he mused gently, gracefully flipping down to settle onto a low hanging branch. With a huff, you turn your back to him, iridescent wings fluttering rapidly, and send a plume of pixie dust onto his face in retaliation. He yelps and jerks away to the side, hands in the air as he stumbles out an apology. You take a glimpse of his face and nearly laugh at the sight of golden, metallic dust clinging onto his hair, eyelashes, and nose, "I deserved that."

His frame suddenly floats from the pixie dust settling onto his frame, and he hums in satisfaction while reaching up to grab hold of a mulberry branch, eyeing the berries in contemplation.

"That you did," you smile as you reach down into one of the pouches on the floor, "So, what have you- Ah! Wait! Joong! You forgot your hat again."

"I did? And here I gave Wooyoung the earful of his lifetime for thinking he stole it again."

You regarded him silently, head shaking in amusement at his words. Pulling the green piece of fabric from the bag, you reached over to adjust it onto the top of his head, his mischievous eyes never leaving your face. You caught his gaze, narrowing your eyes as his smirk broadened, "So, whatchya gathering today, cutie?"

"Apple blossoms, mulberries, and mushrooms for the autumn festival," you answered quickly, wings fluttering as you took off into the air to gather the higher flowers, "Don't distract me, Joong. If I don't have these collected by tonight, the council will flip. Everything must be done and ready by today."

"Distract you?" he looked up from the berry-filled basket and feigned a hurt expression before settling on a branch and leaning down to rest his hands behind his head, "I didn't say or do anything. Ignore me, you won't even realize I'm here."

"Don't you have other things to do?" you asked as you dumped a basket full of blossoms into a cotton bag, "Like.. I don't know, train the Lost Boys how to fly with pixie dust? Or raid Captain Seonghwa's ship?"

"I left Yunho in charge of them, don't worry. They're in good, big hands. Also, we need a new supply of pixie dus-"

"What? But I gave you your supply just two days ago!" You give him an incredulous look, arms crossing over you chest.

"Mingi accidentally spilled it all in the river," he rushed to explain, hand reaching up to brush a hand through his red hair, "Besides, I haven't seen Captain what's his face ever since he lost his hand."

"He didn't lose it," you jabbed, "You cut it off."

"But that's what I said," he chuckled as you sent a roll of your eyes in his direction, "Come on, baby. Take a break and sit with me for a few minutes."

You attempt to ignore his whining, pushing past him without making eye contact, before fluttering above his head and rummaging through the interlacing branches to gather more flowers, "No distractions, Joong."

A sudden grip onto your ankle has you yelping, and you quickly find yourself plopping down onto his lap. He flashes you a sheepish grin and a shrug of his shoulders before wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in closer to his chest, "Five minutes, I promise. I just missed you so much."

"But you saw me last night," you scoff playfully, arms reaching up to rest onto his shoulders, your wings sagging down in relaxation as he leaned it to brush the tip of his nose against your own. The colorful cosmos on the forest floor swayed with the gentle breeze, and you huddled closer to him for more warmth.

"I know but," he pressed fleeting kisses down your face before settling onto your lips, his grip hard and unyielding, "I can never get enough of you," he smiles against your mouth, hands reaching down to brush the pads of his fingertips across your thighs, before caressing your flesh. His eyes burned with the familiar sight of desire.

You wanted to pull away, knowing fully well that Hongjoong will definitely will lose himself in the moment, but the warmth that ebbed from his frame was too irresistible, especially when autumn's freezing gusts whipped past the gaps of the trees. A retort was ready on the tip of your tongue, but the way his mouth seized your lips has your mind reeling, and you can only faintly decipher the sweet flavor of mulberries as he prods the seam of your lips with his tongue. His hands tug on your rear, urging your closer so that your hips are flush with his. Answering his unspoken request, you part your lips and sigh in content as he ravishes your mouth with his tongue.

"I told you he came here to get his dick wet again!" a familiar voice suddenly ricocheted throughout the dense forest.

You broke the kiss with a sharp intake of breath, wings instantly going rigid and upright at the unanticipated noise, and you attempted to fly off of Hongjoong's lap, embarrassment filling your lungs at being caught.

Several other voices followed suit after, shushing and scolding the loud-mouthed one.

Hongjoong sent a displeased look over your shoulder at the rustling bushes, and clung onto your frame to keep you from moving, all the while ignoring your pleading looks and flushed face. Leaning in to your ear, he whispers lowly and nods his head at the direction of the five heads peeking discreetly from a few meters away.

It took everything he had to convince you, and with a hesitant nod of agreement, your shimmering wings flutter slightly as your frame ascends off of his lap. You feel a slap land on your rear as you turn to face the five boys, and you jerk your head to the side to throw a glare his way, before flying hastily to where the five boys squabbled behind a few bushes, leaving behind a trail of golden dust in your path.

"Oh, look. I think y/n heard us," Yunho mumbled sheepishly as he slid down against the base of one tree, causing a few moths to flee to higher branches.

With a few harsh flaps of your wings, you sent plumes of pixie dust down onto the unsuspecting boys, blinding them with the sparkling glitter. You watched in amusement as realization suddenly dawned on their features. They yelped as their frames ascended off the ground, hands desperately trying to reach for any branch to cling onto before they float up and out of the forest.

"But Hongjoong never taught us how to fly!" San cried, arms latching onto Yeosang's leg for anchor. The latter suddenly lost his grip on the thick ferns with the sudden weight, and Hongjoong merely snickered as the two floated away. Mingi gripped the back of Yunho's collar, eyes blown out with fear. Several twigs and leaves stuck out from his locks.

"I'm sorry Hongjoong! I promise this was all Wooyoung's idea!"

An indignant squawk leaves the black-haired male, hands reaching out to grip the taller's shoulders, "I didn't force you to come!"

"Yeah, but I had no choice! You know I don't like being left alone!" The two squabbled mid-air, limbs tangling and trapping Yunho in the mess as the three drifted up and away.

You turn to the snickering Hongjoong, and once you meet his gaze, he beckons you with a finger, "Now that that's taken care of, where were we?"

"That's enough distractions for the day," you huffed, reaching over to swipe at his nose.

"Just five minutes," he pleads hopefully.

"I would have covered you in pixie dust too," you smile at the sight of his contagious grin as you settle back onto his lap, "But I just had to make the mistake of teaching you how to fly."

"You sweep me off my feet even without pixie dust," he replies before pulling you by your scarf for a soul searing kiss.

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong scenarios #ateez peter pan au #choi san imagines #wooyoung imagines #song mingi imagines #yunho imagines #yeosang imagines

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magalidragon · 4 years ago

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So this is in response to a prompt ask I got awhile back from @freesoulladyaic— they requested beauty underneath and I am not sure exactly what but I think there was a mixup for which prompt list and number was requested so I went with the one I thought made most sense I hope you don’t mind and so sorry it has been so long! Enjoy!

Prompt: “I prefer you naked but that dress looks really good on you too.”

"Fuck!"

"Language."

Jon looked up from where he'd stabbed his thumb with a pin, a series of them stuck between his lips. He made a face at his wife, who was on the other side of the room, working on another dress form. He lifted up the yards of shades of red soft organza and tulle, which he'd been alternating in a macrame styling on the bodice of the gown. He'd been pinning them to the waist, already marked on the form. It was giving it a very ethereal look, but with the deep colors, indicative of the Targaryen crest, the overlay looked equal parts ash and fire.

He finished off the bodice, taking the remaining pins from his mouth, and turned the form, frowning at the back, where he wanted to make the two straps criss-crossing from shoulder to waist thicker, both in black. The red was just the detailing. He pursed his lips, contemplating how best to achieve this, and felt eyes on him. He lifted his, meeting Dany's gaze across the studio. He smirked. "What?"

"You're so focused, so intense." She licked her lips, arching her brow teasingly. She purred, "You know what that does to me."

"Keep it in your pants, we've got dresses to finish."

"Hmm, the auteur himself, Jon Snow, working on his creation." She sauntered over, in her long black housecoat, which she wore when working, her feet bare on the hardwood and jeans rolled at the cuffs. Her hair was bound up in a scarf, kept from her eyes while she worked. It was a decidedly unsexy look, measuring tape over her shoulder, pincushion strapped to her wrist and her pockets heavy with thread and a little set of scissors tucked into a brace on her other wrist, like she was some sort of sewing superhero.

He smirked up at her, the stool he was on swiveling over to her. "Well I promised the client that I would have my best men on it." He puffed his chest. "And that happens to be me."

"Funny, I thought I was the client."

"You are, what do you think so far?" He chewed his bottom lip, studying her face as she perused the fabric draped and pinned to the form. He pretended like her opinion meant nothing to him, but in reality it was the only one that mattered. If there was even a hint of dislike, he'd destroy the entire thing and start again. It worked both ways.

She trailed a finger along the macrame detailing, the straps across the back, and lifted up the tulle strewn along the floor. On the table he had sketches of the design, fabric samples pinned to a board on an easel, and at least one of the leather leggings he'd been sewing to go underneath. While she studied everything, he got up, too nervous to watch her, and went into the adjoining office, picking up his vape.

Clamping his lips around it, he puffed, holding it in his mouth like a 'binkie' as Dany teased him, and picked up some sales reports, flicking through the assessments from their CFO. They'd poached Willas Tyrell from his grandmother, mostly because he was bored with the steadiness of the established company and wanted something new. He was brilliant, had taken their sales higher than even Jon had imagined-- and that was pretty far.

Dragonwolf had become the most sought after couture house in Westeros, while he transitioned L.Stark into an upscale ready-to-wear line, headed by Sansa. Dany still maintained her CEO position over Dracarys, but Missandei had taken over as creative director. It afforded him more time, he'd discovered, to do the things he really enjoyed doing.

Hanging out with Ghost, coming up with new creations, and Dany, not necessarily in that order.

He sucked down the fake smoke from the vape, tricking his brain it was actually a real cigarette, the action habitual and relaxing his nerves. He sank into his chair, glancing at the photo of his mother he kept on the edge of the desk, smiling briefly at the image of her laughing, arms around him as he was wrapped up in fabric from playing in her studio. His gaze darted to the image right beside it, of Dany in the same pose, hugging him after she had wrapped him up in fabric too. It was in the same place, the same location he'd just come from, their private studio in the old townhome in Winterfell.

The vape still between his lips, he moved to the window, cranking it open and blowing smoke into the nighttime air, glancing towards the castle up on the hill. The dresses were for the annual Winter's Eve Gala event, something of a who's who in the zoo of the Westerosi peerage and entertainment industry. It was a chance for the Starks to show off the castle, everyone to arrive dripping in icy couture and jewels, and pretend like they gave a shit about the lesser people among them. There would be a famous silent auction, fundraising for the Lyanna Stark Memorial Fund-- which was incredibly important to his heart-- along with an award that would honor someone who had contributed significantly to Lyanna's chosen cause-- orphaned children.

But the thing people seemed to care most about was what everyone would be wearing.

He was making Dany's dress and she was making a dress for a new young actress as well as the young cousin of her friend Ser Jorah Mormont. Lyanna Mormont was a Lady, technically, but you wouldn't know it. She was a pistol. This would be her first big event after her first movie had hit the scene, garnering her immediate raves and attention. It was a big deal for her to be getting a chance to wear a Dracarys creation, especially handmade by Dany herself, but it was the least Dany said she could do for the young girl who made her smile and laugh every single time she encountered her.

Jon finished his vape, returning to the studio, and found Dany back to work on Lyanna's dress. There were no notes left for him, so he continued to work, both of them silent. He kept at it, accepting her kiss and murmured "don't stay up too late" with a distracted nod, remaining at his station into the night. He pinned and draped and sewed, every stitch even, like his mother taught him.

Around two in the morning, his eyes burned, but he leaned back in his chair, feet up on his desk, and Ghost under his legs, fast asleep. He was working on the leggings, finding hand-sewing leather to actually be a relaxing task. It was soft in his hands, buttery almost, and he likened it to his mother, watching her work on making her own riding clothes. He took a deep breath, slowly releasing it, and pulled on thread, slipping it in and out, until his eyes drooped further and further, until he was fast asleep.

The suit he'd chosen to wear was one of Dany's. The irony of L.Stark by Jon Snow, award winning and bestselling couture men's designer wearing a suit from anyone but his own line, especially Dracarys. It was something he never would have thought possible two years ago when they were at the height of their hatred for each other. Nay, he corrected himself, it wasn't hating, it was unresolved tension, best resolved by the explosion most everyone witnessed at the MET gala.

He adjusted his tie in the mirror, smoothing the velvet brocade over his chest, eyeing Ghost, who looked like he wanted to run up to him. He pointed his finger, warning. "No way. This is black velvet. I'll never get your fur out."

Ghost wagged his tail, thankfully staying put on the bed.

Indeed, it was an incredibly comfortable and finely detailed suit, black silk tie with matching black velvet brocade along it-- if you got close enough you could see it was wolves and dragons running and tangling throughout, swirls of flames and snow following them. That was a hallmark of Dany-- her ability to tell stories with her designs and the intricacies of her attention to detail.

He left their room, knowing she was elsewhere in the suite at Winterfell, where they'd deigned to stay that evening to prepare for the event. He thought it a little silly; they would have to pretend to "leave" just to "arrive" at the same location and walk up the icy blue carpet with photographers.

Price they paid, he supposed, for business.

He left the suite, taking his time down the set of stone stairs spiraling down from their sitting and bedroom areas, into a receiving hall. Davos was already waiting, their constant taskmaster, and he had Satin floating about somewhere. "Where's Arya?" he asked.

"I believe she said and I quote 'fuck this shit, I'm not going.'"

He snorted, fixing his cufflinks. "Sounds about right."

Davos checked his watch. "I'll go check on the car."

"Stupid Davos, this is stupid."

"It's just a whip around the block." Davos nodded, signing, resigned. "Although aye, it is stupid."

"What's stupid?"

Jon heard Dany's voice before he saw her, and turned, looking up the stairs to where she was at the top, waiting for him. He gaped, mute, and jaw dropping the moment his eyes rested on her form. It took his brain a second to catch up with his body, which was already responding in kind, and another second for his voice to return.

He choked, watching her smirk at him, knowing exactly how she appeared and what she was doing. Especially with the slow descent she took, every step tiny, allowing the full effect of her appearance to settle. He could not believe it.

It was one thing to see a dress on paper, another in progress, and even the final version on the form or on a model down the runway.

It was another when it was on the person who inspired it, who it was meant for, from the first sketch to the final stitch.

Dany floated down the stairs, the dress whispering around her, the crimson and black rippling through the soft tulle. It gave her a fairy-like appearance, but it was the black macrame, the black strappy heels on her feet, and her black fingernails, leather leggings, and crimson lips that warned eveyrone she was no simpering little thing. She would burn you alive.

The skirt floated about her and she had topped it off with the see-through tulle gloves he'd made at the last minute. Her silver tresses were spun in a complicated braided style, mountains of them criss-crossing and tangling in a crown about her head.

Someone asked her once why she always wore her hair in such intricate braids-- it had become her trademark. "When I was growing up I learned a lot about the Dothraki tradition of a braid for a victory," she explained. She had smirked. "I grew up with the Dothraki. They were my family. I have never been defeated. The braids show that."

Jon couldn't believe how gorgeous she was.

Or how lucky he happened to be.

He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, found his voice. "You know, I prefer you naked but that dress looks really good on you too."

Dany beamed, her smile beatific. She offered her elbow to him, to take and lead her away to their car, but instead he lifted her hand delicately, even though that had was stronger than anyone would have thought at first look. Eyes on hers, unblinking, he dragged his fingertips up the tulle, delighting in her breathy hiss.

He dipped under the top of the glove, above her elbow, and began to peel it down, agonizingly slow. Her pupils dilated and mouth fell, her tongue darting out to nervously wet her lips. He plucked at fingers, removing the glove. With her skin bared, he stroked her forearm and then lifted her knuckles to his lips, brushing over them.

"Jon," she gasped, brows arching. "We're going to be late."

"Do you think I care?"

"It took forever to get into this dress and look like this."

He spun her into his arms, tossing the glove down, and nosed at her neck, whispering along her racing pulse. "I made the dress, I'll be careful."

"Not a word in your vocabulary."

He didn't acknowledge that, because he was kissing her. After a moment, he lifted her under her knees, hurrying her back towards the stairs, to her delighted giggles.

Occupational hazard, he thought, later when they were late, racing down the carpet instead of allowing photos taken. He made her the dresses, even though honestly, she looked good in anything. Or nothing, as the case may be.

"Dany, who are you wearing?" someone called out.

Dany shouted back. "Who do you think?"

He laughed, racing after her and not even bothering to answer the same question directed at him.

#jonerys #jonerys au #my fics #my moodboards #jonerys fanfic #writer prompts #fashion jonerys!

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toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years ago

Text

The Screw // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

This wasn't a request BUT I loved it. It's based off of the gif below.

Summary - Matthew gives the screw from his knee to a special girl.

Word Count - 1.5k

Y/n had been in a loving relationship with Matthew for quite some time, 3 years, 9 months and 16 days to be exact. She was 100% sure that he was the man that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The biggest thing in their relationship was Halloween, of course.

She had weathered more than 3 Halloweens with the man. Before they were together, they bought eachothers costumes. She got him a sexy nurse costume, and Matthew was not one to back down from a dare. So he wore it to the Halloween party and proudly told everyone that she had gotten it for him.

He had been nice and bought her a cloak from Harry Potter, it was even a cloak from your Hogwarts House. She was so grateful, and felt just a little *guilty*. A few months later they were together, just as everyone suspected they would be.

Their next Halloween they went with a little classic, PB&J. They stayed by eachothers sides the entire night to keep the costume true to itself. *Totally not because they couldn't get enough of eachother.*

The next year they were Scooby Doo characters. But they weren't what you would have expected. Not Fred and Daphne, no no.

They were Shaggy and Scooby.

Matthew had happily bounced around they party in his big Scooby costume, shouting every once in a while "Scooby Dooby Do!" To anyone who asked who he was. Y/n ventured around the house in a short dirty blonde wig, a Tie-Dye shirt, cargo shorts, and a comically large bong. Everyone quite enjoyed their weird sense of humor and obvious disregard for what people thought.

Last year they went as something only they would understand.

Matthew went as Edgar Allen Poe. He wore a white collared button up with a black scarf. Paired with black pants and a black suit jacket over it all. Y/n had used temporary hair dye to color his hair black, and they purchased a fake mustache to pull it all together. He then wanted her to go as Annabelle Lee.

*"You know that there is no description of Anabelle in his writing, right?" She argued.*

*"Yes, but he loved her so much. He loved her as she was and it was so strong that you don't even need to know how she looked." He brushed a piece of hair out of her face. "Just go in something flowy maybe, but go as you are. That's how I love you, that's why I love you." He said the words so nonchalantly, but they struck her in the heart like the sharpest of cupids arrows.*

*"Where do you come up with this beautifully poetic stuff?" She giggled, feeling more giddy and drunk in love than she had in quite a while.*

*"I'm Edgar Allen Poe, duh."*

So they went like that. They had to explain to so many people how their costume worked, and all of them found it *disgustingly* beautiful. It seemed that they were straight out of a book how perfect they were.

But this year they went back to their usual shenanigans. Matthew wanted to be something cheesy this year. He let her come up with 10 cheesy costumes, and he would make the final decision. She had been so excited about all of the costumes. After creating a list over the course of 2 days, she happily brought it to their living room and set the list on front of him.

1. Fred and Wilma Flintstone

2. Jim and Pam from The Office

3. Olive Oyl and Popeye

4. Oreo cookies

5. Sailor and Mermaid

6. Zombie Bride and Groom

7. Cookie and Milk

8. Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin

9. Magician and Rabbit

10. Barbie and Ken

He took one look at the list and knew exactly which one he wanted.

"I think we should do Zombie Bride and Groom." His answer came so quickly that it startled y/n a bit. But a smile was quickly plastered onto her face.

"Perfect! We can go get the costumes tomorrow and work on them." She picked up the list and circled the decision in red pen, a child like excitement shone in her eyes.

The latest Halloween party had come quicker than expected, and the couple was grateful for it. Matthew had been both extremely excited and nervous for this night. Y/n had practically been bouncing off the walls since they woke up that morning.

She woke up early to make Matthew breakfast in bed. She had looked up a tutorial online to make skull pancakes with yolks in the eyes. After she finished them they looked pretty pitiful, but Matthew looked at them like it was a painting by Vincent Van Gogh.

"Did you make these?" He sat up in the bed groggily, smelling syrup and warm pancakes.

"Yeah, they don't look that great." A nervous giggle erupted from her throat.

"I love them!" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a hug on the bed. "Happy Halloween baby."

When 7 o'clock finally rolled around, y/n was standing in the bathroom, facing her full size mirror. She smoothed her hands down the white dress. It was only a 30 dollar dress, but she felt a little bad still that they tore it up for the sake of the costume. It was torn in multiple places, along with blood splatters here and there. Matthew had bloodied up his hand and put a few hand prints on it. Regardless, she thought it was cozy and warm to be in a wedding dress, even for Halloween. Blood was painted around her mouth and black eyeshadow around her eyes to make then seem sunken in. She had done something similar for her boyfriend. After admiring the wonderful Halloween work, she headed out to the living room.

Matthew had sat there on the couch the whole time she was in the bathroom. He was fiddling with a small box that he intended on using tonight. His foot tapped almost silently on the carpeted floor. The box was skillfully slipped into his back pocket as he heard the door to the bathroom click open.

"Ready?" She nodded her head violently as she grabbed his hand and lead him through the door.

The party was like any other. It was being held at AJ Cooks house as a final official get together for the cast and friends. Everyone whooped as y/n and Matthew entered her house.

"Going with another cool couples costume this year I see." AJ wore and FBI vest from the set. Y/n pulled at the strap of it a bit.

"I see *someone* stole a prop from set." She shrugged with a smile.

"Come on, it's my favorite thing to wear, and what better time to wear it." She giggled.

"I love it!"

"Well, enjoy the party you two." She gestured between us.

"We always do." Then they were off into the party.

They had each drank copious amounts of punch that had a floating head in it and eaten many 'bloody' pigs in a blanket, Matthew was running out of time, he thought. He brought her out to the backyard where there was a minimal amount of people.

"Aren't the stars pretty tonight?" She pointed to the sky as she leaned on his chest. He stared down at her messy figure, covered in blood but still looking more perfect to him than ever.

"Yes they are." She peered up to see him staring.

"You're so cheesy." Seeing her smile like that, he decided this was the right time. He unraveled her from his arms, pointing behind them.

"Hey, I think someone is calling for you over there." She whipped her head around to see that no one was standing there.

"Are you delusional?" She questioned with a chuckle. He was already down on one knee with the box. Once she span around her eyes immediately turned to the ground, happy tears already brimming. She looked closer at the object he was holding and let out a quiet sob.

"Is that," she sniffled, "Is that the screw from your knee." She laughed a bit into the statement, leaning down to examine it.

"Maybe?" His head tilted with the biggest smile she had ever seen on the man.

"Oh my gosh I love it so much." She grabbed it from his hands and pulled him to his feet. The small screw sat in the palm of her hand, rolling around a bit.

"I said I was going to give it to a special girl some day." Her face lit up at the statement. "I totally forgot to ask if you would marry me." He remarked with a dumbfounded look.

"Is that even a question?" She squealed, placing her arms around his neck. He pulled a second box from his pocket that held a ring and slipped it on her finger. They both stood and hugged for a while, just reveling in eachother presences.

"I hope you know I'm bringing this screw to the wedding, I'm gonna wear it as a necklace." She whispered excitedly.

"I wouldn't expect anything less." He placed a loving kiss on *his* y/n's head.

The feeling was mutual that they couldn't *wait* to spend the rest of their lives with eachother.

#mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #MGG #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg fic

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thewildomega · 4 years ago

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Always wondered how Katakuri would react to a painter S / O ? The strange way they look at life from an artistic view , Since it probably wouldn't be practical for a pirate to be an artist : ( Like them randomly stopping to admire a flower and talking about how the color makes them feel only to hear someone like Luffy say " it's just a flower , what's the big deal ? " ) You can make is angst if you want , but can it please have a happy ending ? ( I don't wanna cry!😫)

P.s. My angst idea is the Katakuri's S / O has some ability to do with water and her belief is that is the only reason Katakuri and the Charlotte fam like her (she might be right about some of them🤔) after all I imagine they would think being a painter is stupid . You don't have to do this it's just my idea . 🌸Please and thank you💖

A/N: Thank you for requesting! So I changed a few things up but I hope you liked it!

Through the eyes of an Artist

Finding a secluded area away from everyone else you pulled out your sketch book and charcoals, your most cherished possessions. Glancing up to the spring that was surrounded by beautiful flowers of all colors you grinned a little and started drawing away, drifting away into your own mind. Times like these were your favorite, times when you could be yourself and not the woman you had been forced to play the part of.

Your mother and father owned a large sugar cane plantation and had made many business investments over the years by marrying off your brothers and sister. now however it was your turn, your parents chosen suitor had been none other than a man from the Charlotte family, one of the notorious Big Mom's sons. For weeks now you parents had been doubling down on your 'princess' training along with your lessons on how to make be a proper wife. You hadn't known to just two days ago when your ship had arrived at Toto Land Island that your betrothed just happened to be the most feared of them all, Katakuri. Having only been in his presence once, he had said nothing to you, only looked down at you with a cold stare that told you everything you needed to know. He didn't want you. Your parents and brothers had seen it as well apparently and the moment all of you had been shown to your temporary rooms they had all started jumping you.

"You couldn't smile a little?"

"Why did you not curtsy like we talked about?"

"Couldn't you have made yourself even the slightest bit attractive tonight?"

"You are such a disappointment..."

"Why oh why did we have to be cursed with such a worthless daughter!"

"The only thing good she has going for her is her devil fruit powers..."

On and on they went, your eyes focused on the floor as tears brimmed and threatened to spill down your cheeks. That night when you had laid in bed all you could think about was how not even your husband would care about you. You were doomed to be forever unloved. What sucked even more was that you were being ripped away from the only friend that you had ever had, the only person that didn't see you as a failure and waste of space. Tika had been the only person to seem to like you for you not just because of your water manipulation devil fruit powers.

Before you knew it splotches were messing up your art piece and you sniffled as you reached up to wipe away the tears falling from your eyes. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath and sighed. Opening your eyes a bit you looked towards the blueish purple hyacinth and blinked slowly, turning the page to capture that single flower, the one that represented how you felt. Adding in different shades and blending them together with your fingertip you tilted your head to the side in concentration, not even hearing the person walk up behind you.

"You shouldn't be out here." a deep voice spoke.

Completely caught off guard by the sudden voice you threw your sketch book and charcoal out of your hands and let out a little yelp. Snapping your eyes up you saw the two crimson eyes looking at you with the same coldness and disdain as they had two days ago. Opening and closing your mouth you quickly bowed your head. "I'm sorry. I... I didn't know it was off limits o..or anything I just... well I..." Stupid you had done it again, you had messed up again. Just like you always did. "I'm sorry." you said in a whisper.

He just stood there watching as the woman, his bride to be stumbled over an apology. Seeing her bow her head low and then move to gather her things he moved his eyes to the ground and saw a pad of paper of sorts and what looked to be a set of colorful charcoals, many of which were very small. She had been drawing? Crouching down he began helping her gather all the little pieces for her.

When his large hand started picking the pieces of charcoal out of the grass to hand them to you you glanced up to him and saw his face buried in his scarf. Taking them when he held them out for you, you quickly thanked him and went about placing them in the small bag you had. Being so focused on the task at hand you didn't even notice him lift your sketch pad up and flip it over to examine your flower piece until it was too late. "No! Don't look at tha...." you tried saying but it was too late.

Standing back to his full height he looked over the different drawings and art pieces. "You did all these?" he asked, his voice emotionless.

Curling up some you mumbled out a small 'yes' and readied yourself for the cruel words you were so used to hearing. When he said nothing you bit your lip and looked down. "I know it's a useless pass time, stupid even but I..."

Looking to a painting of the sea he grinned a little behind his scarf. "You are an exceptional artist." Hearing her small gasp he looked down to see a small blush dusting her cheeks and her eyes looking up at him in pure shock. She wasn't used to such compliments apparently.

You could honestly say your heart warmed a bit at his kind words and you swallowed thickly before replying. "Thank you."

Humming he began leading her back to the palace. "Do you preferer to use Charcoals?" he asked.

Shaking your head you reached up to brush your hair back behind your ear. "No, paints are my favorite."

"Gouache, Watercolors, acrylics or oil?" he asked.

You had never had anyone to talk about art with before and could feel yourself smiling a little at the conversation. "Well I've only ever been able to use Acrylics and oil based paints before. I have seen some watercolor pieces from other artist before though and hope to one day try them as well."

Humming he continued walking with her all the way to the palace doors, the both of them quietly talking about this and that until he heard a man and woman yell his fiancé's name.

Quickly looking up when you heard your parents yell your name you saw them both waiting at the front entrance, deep scowls on their faces. Instantly the smile that Katakuri had managed to bring to your lips disappeared. "Mother, fath..."

"Where have you been?! We have been searching for you for hours!" you mother screeched. "Just look at your dress, covered in those damn charcoals again." she snapped.

"I.. I'm sorry.. I..." You started but were quickly cut off by your father.

"No more of your excuses. I am sick and tired of this worthless hobby of yours." he growled, snatching your sketch pad and charcoals from you.

"No, please father I..."

"Y/n that is enough." your mother hissed out between clenched teeth.

"Now, you will apologize to Katakuri for no doubt wasting his time with your foolishness." your father demanded.

He had stood there quietly, listening to Y/n's parents belittle her. Crossing his arms over his chest he continued to remain silent, even when his bride to be turned to him and whispered out a sorrowful apology. Not responding because he knew if he opened his mouth he would say too much he just stood there and watched as her mother grabbed her wrist, too hard judging by the small wince she made, and quickly pulled her back towards their rooms.

Sighing your father pinched the bridge of his nose and turned towards the commander. "I assure you Katakuri she isn't as useless as she seems. While she may be stuck on this junk and her looks aren't very good, my daughter does have a powerful water power unlike any other. I have no doubt that she will prove to be a valuable asset to your family. Not to mention she will also be able to give you plenty of heirs. I only hope this little mishap hasn't made you change your mind about marrying her. I will be having a long talk with her and I promise that she will give this up." he said, holding up the art supplies in his hand .

Gritting his teeth he glared down at the man. "I intend to keep my families side of the deal." Without another word he walked away from the man before he did something he would regret or rather something his mother would not be happy about.

........................

Today was the day, your wedding day but you couldn't find a reason to be happy. All day you had been getting ready. People pinning you up in an attempt to make you look somewhat acceptable. Your mother's harsh comment about Katakuri not looking to your face too long making a knot form in your throat. Walking down the isle towards him you could only think back on the last few days where he had went back to ignoring you. To your knowledge the two of you had been hitting it off pretty good the other day, speaking of this and that. Perhaps though your family had been right and he was only being nice for the sake of your upcoming union.

Standing beside him as the priest spoke you looked him over through your veil and noticed how handsome he looked. Before too long your mind had began making notes about how you could draw this moment later but then you remembered your father's words and frowned. Never again would you be allowed to practice your art skills, having brought enough shame to your family.

When it came time to kiss and he lifted your veil you looked up into his crimson eyes and saw them not as cold as they were before and blinked. Feeling him kiss your head through his scarf you heard one of your brothers make a quiet comment about not blaming Katakuri for wanting to kiss you, the words making your heart clench painfully.

During the reception you sat beside Katakuri and kept your head down.

"Congratulations..."

Looking up you saw a thin, tall looking woman standing there and straightened up when you realized it was one of the other Charlotte children. "T..Thank you." you said politely.

"My name is Brulee, we haven't met yet but Big Brother here tells me you are an artist." she said with a smile.

"An Artist!?" Big Mom questioned around a mouthful of cake.

Gasping a little you looked between her and your husband. Nodding a bit you opened your mouth to speak when you caught sight of your father staring daggers at you and dropped your shoulders. "I... I used to be."

Knitting his brows at her sudden change in emotion he looked across the hall to see her father looking at her with a very strict look and raised his chin as father went on talking to his mother.

"It was a childhood hobby, nothing to brag about." you father laughed off with the rest of your family joining in.

Seeing his wife's eyes look to her lap and noticing a droplet of water fall to her lap he let out a deep breath and stood. "Mama, Y/n and I are going to retire for the night." he spoke deeply.

"Yes, yes. Of course you both are ready for the honeymoon." she laughed.

Blushing behind his scarf he said nothing as he held his hand out for Y/n to take, noticing her hand shaking a bit. "Brulee." he said and heard his little sister hum. Without a word they led her from the room and out to the hall. Seeing Brulee stand before a mirror he continued holding his wife's hand as his sister opened the mirror world.

Going through one mirror and then being led to another you felt Katakuri stop and glanced up just the tiniest amount.

"Thank you sister." he said.

"Of course." She told her brother with a smile before looking down to the smaller woman. "I can't wait to get to know you Y/n. Congratulations again."

With that you felt Katakuri pull you through another mirror and looked around when you saw you were now in a large house of sorts.

Seeing her look around curiously he grinned, "Welcome home."

Looking up to him you blinked and then scanned your eyes around the house. From where you were, which seemed to be a front foyer you could see a living area, kitchen and dining room. There was a massive stairway in front of you with many doors on the upper level that were closed.

"I will give you the grand tour tomorrow but there is one room I have been wanting to show you." he said. Holding her hand he led her up the stairs and down the hall a bit to the third door down from his... their bedroom. Grabbing the knob he looked down to her and grinned behind his scarf. "I wanted you to have a room to call your own... I guess you could call it a wedding gift from me to you." he told her, noticing her confused look. Opening the door he turned on the light and instantly heard her gasp.

Gasping you moved your hand to cover your mouth. Staring into the room you saw it filled with different art supplies. A large easel sat in the middle of the room with a chair in front of it. New paints of all different colors and types sat on the built in shelves and any other kinds of supplies you could ever dream of having. For the first time in your life you felt happy tears fill your eyes. You had to be dreaming, this had to be a dream.

Watching her quietly he said nothing until a few minutes had passed and he started getting nervous, maybe he had went overboard and it was now creepy. "So is this acceptable... do you like..." He didn't get to finish his sentence before she was pulling him down by his scarf and smashing her lips to his. Freezing he felt his breath catch in his throat and his eyes go wide. Her soft lips stayed on his for a moment before she slowly pulled away and opened her eyes to look at him. Readying himself for the cruel comments he felt his body tense but to his surprise she only smiled and it made him even more uncomfortable. "Well go on say something." he grunted out.

Cupping his scared cheek you felt his large teeth against your skin and smiled, "You're beautiful, a true masterpiece. Maybe one day you might let me paint you?"

A deep blush tinted his cheeks and now it was him that thought he was dreaming.

#Charlotte Katakuri #one piece katakuri #katakuri x reader #Katakuir fanfiction #one piece #One Piece Fanfiction #fluff #light angst

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