#THE NEW SOLUTION: we are meeting up in person on saturday so he can hold my hand and probably ultimately do it for me out of disgust | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

therealvalkyrie · 3 years

Text

exactly the spring

Pairing/setting: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader, college!AU

Summary: Reserved biology student Ushijima finds himself falling in love when you, an adorably disorganized art student, wander into the greenhouse.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: fluff, kissing

AN: Hi!! So, the inspiration for this one sprang from the beautiful, sexi brain of Emme ( @doinmybesthere ) way back in MARCH ahem anyway, it's done! I hope it's just as soft and intimate as you envisioned<33 Also, big shoutout to my beautiful friends Arobi ( @daqueenobooty ) and Cee ( @spacelabrathor ) for being wonderful betas and giving me such kind comments:) I hope you enjoy, and as always don't be shy about leaving comments or coming to chat! Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

p.s. check out this amazing art that @/54prowl made of plant boy ushi!! :D

Plants don’t talk back, Ushijima learned as a toddler. He’d babble to them in nonsensical phrases as his mother worked in the garden, and they’d only sway in the wind and listen, waxy under his chubby fingers.

A volleyball doesn’t talk back, either, not even through its bounces and echoes on hands and hard surfaces. It doesn’t listen as easily as plants, but can be herded and shaped like putty into a winning thing if you touch it right. This, Ushijima learned at his father’s hand and carried with him through childhood and adolescence.

The joy and puzzlement of you is that you do both. You listen so intently and openly with your steady eyes and soft body as the words pour out of him. And then, you reply. With your clear voice and new perspective, you offer something new. You offer companionship.

It was the second week of spring semester that you wandered into the greenhouse, eyes lit by the sun and sketchbook under one arm. Ushijima was repotting a large fern, dirt up to his elbows as he kneeled on the floor. He barely gave you a second glance, preoccupied with nestling the plant’s root system comfortably.

You settled a short distance away, crossing your legs to sit on the tile floor in front of an orange tree to sketch its still-closed flower buds with charcoal pencils. He kept working as you did, the sun sliding across glass, shadows shifting into the early evening of winter. When the sun was threatening to set over the city skyline — even with the greenhouse where it sits on the roof of the biology building — he turned to tell you he was closing up, only to find you gone. In your place, sitting on the wooden table that held newly planted basil and sage, was a drawing.

It was a single branch, detailed in shades of charcoal down to the last dewdrop. At the bottom, looping handwriting scrawled, “thank you for the peace.”

That night, he tacked it up above his desk in his dorm next to the postcard from Tendō and hoped you’d come back.

And you do, a couple of days later, on a Saturday. He looks up from where he’s filling in the logbook, this time, catching your gaze and holding it for a moment before you break away to survey the room. Today, he thinks you looked breathtaking. You’re wearing a long, flowing skirt and a sweater that makes him want to feel how soft it is, and how soft you are in it, and by the time his brain catches up with his thoughts, he’s been staring too long and your eyes have wandered back to him. It’s raining, today — it never really snows in this city, he’s learned — and shadowy droplets play across your face as they drip down the greenhouse’s arched glass ceiling, highlighting the curve of your cheekbone and making your eyes glow softly.

He clears his throat and looks back to the thick spiral-bound book on the table before him. Sometimes, when he meets people for the first time, he knows he can come across as intimidating. That worked out for him in high school and on the volleyball court, but in his adulthood, it’s been more of a hindrance than a help. It makes it… difficult to make friends here, where he doesn’t already know anyone.

And the last thing he wants is to scare you away. The last thing he wants is to break the peace you’ve apparently found here.

Which is why he barely dares to breathe when he looks up to find you approaching him where he’s perched on a sturdy wooden stool.

“Hi,” you smile and lilt, and god if it isn’t the most beautiful word Ushijima’s ever heard, if it isn’t the prettiest smile he’s seen.

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t want to scare you away.

“Uhm,” you start again, when the silence makes it clear he’s waiting for you to speak, “I have an art assignment,” you start digging around in your shoulder bag as you speak, “to draw a, um, what’s it called?”

“I don’t know.”

You pause in your rifling and pin him with such a sunny smile it makes his knee start bouncing. And you laugh, too, which officially replaces your “hi” as the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Ha, you’re funny,” you resume digging, “it was um, pretty leafy and... tropical, I think? Oh! Here.” Triumphantly, you produce a wrinkled paper from your bag. It’s the first imperfect thing Ushijima’s found out about you, that you’re shit at keeping your belongings organized, and he files it away for later reference. You hold the paper in front of your face and squint slightly to read in the shifting light. “Canna indica.”

Canna indica, native to tropical climates, notable as a minor food crop for South American Native populations for thousands of years.

“And I was told that you have it, here, in the greenhouse.”

Ushijima nods and finds himself relieved that this is what you’re asking him. Plants, he can do.

“We do. Would you like me to show you?”

“Yes, please,” you also sound relieved, like he’s provided the solution to every problem you’ve ever had.

He unfolds himself from the stool, setting down his pen as he goes. You take a step back and look up at him mildly, as though you hadn’t realized quite how huge he is.

“This way,” he indicates, leading you deeper into the maze that is the biology department’s greenhouse. The winding path back to the tropical room gives him a moment to sink back into the earthy peace of being here, even if now there’s someone sharing that peace.

The temperature change from the warm main greenhouse to the balmy tropical room prompts Ushijima to shed his flannel outer layer, hanging it on the nail hammered by the door while you step in behind him.

“Whew,” you exhale, shrugging off your soft cardigan as well, “it’s hot in here.”

Ushijima hums in agreement and tries not to look too hard at the patch of skin revealed by your cropped tank top. Canna indica isn’t too far into the room, so he just gently moves past draping leaves and ceramic pots.

“Here,” he stops, holding back leaves for you. He stops breathing again when you duck under his arm and end up so close in the narrow aisle that he can smell your shampoo. The moment passes, and he can breathe again when you breeze past him and squat down to peer at the bright, waxy red leaves of your subject.

“Beautiful,” you murmur, and he silently agrees.

You’re leaning so close to the plant he’s afraid you might topple over when you make a noise of realization and sit back on your butt to rifle through your bag once again. Ushijima knows he should probably leave you to it, but he’s glad he waited just an extra minute when you pull out a pair of glasses and pop them on your face. Adorably.

“That’s better.” You’re looking back at canna indica, now, at a normal distance.

He’s figured you’ve forgotten he’s there when you start to pull out pastels from your seemingly bottomless bag, so he turns to leave you.

A soft, “hey,” calls him back to you, however, and he’s met by your face glowing eerily in the shifting rain-light. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome.”

When he locks up that afternoon, he finds another charcoal drawing waiting for him on the table near the door, this time of his favorite agapanthus africanus. No note, this time, but he attaches all the sounds he heard from you today in its place. He also finds your cardigan forgotten next to where you were sitting and carefully folds it for when you come back.

The drawing joins the orange branch on his wall-- an odd starter garden, he thinks, but all the more precious because it came from you.

The next time he sees you isn’t in the greenhouse, but instead at a cafe a couple of blocks away, two weeks later. He’s walking past, gym bag slung over his shoulder, when he hears your laugh ring out across the outdoor seating area. His eyes find you, head tipped back in sending peals of mirth into the lively spring air. It’s the first truly warm day of the season, though you and your companion are the only patrons sitting outside, and the sun catches on your glasses sat atop your head.

Your friend says something apparently hilarious, because your giggles redouble, and an honest-to-god snort pushes out of your nose. Ushijima catalogues it in his ever-growing list of sounds you make, and pauses at the crosswalk, halfway turned back to keep one eye on you and one on the light. If you were alone, he might’ve approached you and told you that he still has your sweater in the greenhouse, waiting on a shelf between succulents, but he doesn’t want to interrupt your— date?

He isn’t sure, but the person sat there with you seems like someone you might date. Clearly also an art student, judging by the carefully disheveled blue hair and combat boots. Are you the type to date someone with blue hair? Unlikely, he decides. You seem too… bright. Too floaty to be so concerned with looking like you don’t care how you look.

Ushijima’s still debating whether you find blue hair attractive when the crosswalk light begins its countdown and he starts across the street. And he almost makes it all the way across, too, when a voice calls—

“Wait! Hey!”

He turns partially because it sounds urgent enough that it might be an emergency, and his grandmother would roll in her grave if he remained a bystander to some horrific accident. But it’s you, standing up from your seat and waving him back over. He glances at the crosswalk countdown, which lights up red as it ticks from four to three, then turns and jogs back towards you, waving a hand apologetically to the cars waiting at the light. You meet him at the metal fence around the cafe seating area, and now that you’re standing, he can see you’re wearing a yellow sundress that cuts off at your calves and drapes over your hips like the fabric was spun from pure light.

“Hello.” Ushijima talks first this time because if he doesn’t refocus his brain on something else he knows he won’t be able to stop staring.

“Hi! Sorry about that, uh, and I’m sure you have places to be, but, um, did I leave my cardigan at the greenhouse? I can’t find it, and I know I have a tendency to forget things, so,” you finish with a laugh, one hand fiddling with the rings on the other.

“Yes, you did. I put it on a shelf in case you came back.”

“Oh! That’s great!” You sound relieved, and Ushijima’s suddenly very grateful he didn’t take it down to the bio department’s lost and found like they’re technically supposed to. “Is there maybe a time I can come pick it up? When you’ll be there?”

“I’ll be there all day tomorrow, opening at nine.”

He can’t tell if he sounds a little too eager, and he’s about to soften his meaning by telling you that they’re open today, too, and anyone can hand you a sweater, but you’re already smiling big and sunny and telling him,

“I’ll see you at nine, then. Do you drink coffee?”

He doesn’t; his coaches have always told him that caffeine can only harm his athletic performance.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then I’ll see you at nine, with coffee.”

Ushijima says goodbye and turns to wait at the crosswalk again while you swirl your way back to your seat and pick up your conversation with your friend. He can feel two pairs of eyes on him as he crosses the street, red numbers blinking down from ten, and can’t help but turn to look back as he steps onto the opposite sidewalk. Where your friend tactfully looks down into their cup of tea, you catch his eye with yours and wave. He lifts his hand halfway in a goodbye before an eighteen-wheeler stops at the intersection and blocks you from him.

Ushijima’s normal work attire is typical of an average agricultural biology student accustomed to being up to their elbows in dirt every day: practical cargo shorts, dirt-stained but sturdy sneakers, a “plant dad” t-shirt (a gift from Tendō when they’d said their goodbyes and gone away to college), and a soft cotton flannel. He’s usually satisfied with this for his shift at the greenhouse, expecting to be mud-covered at least up to his wrists by the end of the day.

But today… Today, he pauses in the dorm bathroom to scrub his face raw, and he clips and shapes his nails like his mother used to do for him every Saturday. He normally only does it before tournaments, now, and it calms his nerves to feel prepared for a Big Event, even if that event is only handing you your gently pilled cashmere cardigan and receiving a coffee he won’t drink in return.

The air that morning is heady with spring, earthy and alive, reminding Ushijima of lying beneath the hedge along his mother’s garden to pass notes to the girl next door. He was seven and she was nine, so naturally she knew everything he didn’t. She knew about the planets and why worms live in dirt and how to spell the word “catastrophe,” and Ushijima would’ve bet his whole weekly allowance that she was the coolest person in the world, if he knew what betting was. (She did, and once bet him half an ice cream sandwich that he couldn’t climb the oak tree in his backyard all the way to the top. He did, and then twisted his ankle on the way down, and she brought him an ice cream sandwich every day for a week as an apology.) She was all shiny, long black hair and dark eyes and fast words, nothing like the spring blooming around him.

You, on the other hand, are exactly the spring.

He stops at his favorite pastry place on the way to work to pick up two fresh cream donuts. The line is just dwindling from the height of the morning rush, so he manages to make it to the biology building just five minutes before he normally does.

Morning sun sends rainbows through the automatic misting spray as Ushijima unlocks the greenhouse door, letting a burst of humidity out into the rest of the building. The spiral-bound log book is there on the desk, a thick parchment bookmark sticking out from where whoever closed last night marked the page.

Ushijima places his backpack and pastry bag on the desk and reaches to hang his key on its hook just when there’s a knock on the door.

“I know I’m early,” you start, edging your way into the room with a paper coffee cup in each hand. “But I saw it was already open, so...”

Ushijima smiles despite himself. In their second year Oikawa Tooru had told him that his smiles can be unnerving, but he can’t help it right now. You look so lovely today, in jeans and a silky tank top, with a certain morning tenderness in the way you hold yourself.

“It’s okay, come in. I just need to check the temperature controls and I’ll be done opening.”

“Sounds good,” you reply, smiling back.

As he makes his way to the temp controls on the Southern wall, you perch on the wooden stool and set down the coffee.

With his back turned to you for a moment, you allow yourself to slouch, planting two hands on the table and stretching your shoulders with a sigh. It’s earlier than you normally get out of bed, let alone actually leave your apartment, and you can already feel a quiet exhaustion setting into your bones.

But this is worth it, you remind yourself. Worth it to talk to the beautiful boy with broad shoulders and gentle hands.

He’d been unexpected. That first day in the greenhouse, you’d sat down with the intention to calm down from a tedious school day and nothing more. Your hands had moved of their own volition on that second drawing of the orange branch, scribbling out a hasty message that made your cheeks burn. But he was so present that day, in the corner of your eye but staying respectfully out of your space. And you’re not blind -- you saw the muscles under his shirt as he lifted an entire small tree in its pot. You saw the startling shade of green his eyes took on in the sun. You saw it all, and it drew you back, and now you’re here.

When he joins you back at the table, leaning back against it to face you, you stick out your hand and offer your name.

He looks at it for a moment, then back at you.

“I just, uh, realized we never properly introduced ourselves,” you explain, with a hesitant smile.

He smiles again and your heart thuds, then his big hand engulfs yours and he shakes it firmly.

“Wakatoshi. It’s nice to meet you.”

You learn in the following weeks of coming to the greenhouse that Wakatoshi doesn’t like coffee. But he does like tea and donuts, so that’s what you bring him on the mornings you can find it in you to wake up before nine. You sit with him in the greenhouse, talking and listening as he records data and waters plants and sits next to you on the quilt you’ve fallen into the habit of bringing. The occasional professor or student comes through, and you get to watch Wakatoshi show off his brains when he leaves you to help them.

There are several things you learn about him over those weeks. Number one: he never minces words. Two: he prefers grapefruit chapstick over anything else. And three: he kisses like it’s his last day on Earth.

You discover number three late one night when you decide to drop by after class, shooting him a text to make sure he’s still there. Today he’s closing instead of opening, and you missed spending your morning with him.

The city lights cast a different kind of glow at this time of night. They add a distance to everything that’s palpable as you drop your bag by the door.

“Toshi, are you here-- oh, hi.” You turn the corner to find him closing the door to the supply closet.

His cheekbones are highlighted briefly by a billboard outside flashing red.

“You should get some sleep.”

“I’m not tired. And I wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see me?”

He takes a step towards you and you have to tilt your head back slightly to keep your eyes on his. They’re leaf green and unreadable.

“Yeah, uh,” you wet your lips with your tongue, “is that okay?”

“Yes.” He pauses for a long time, then, watching you carefully in the neon glow of the exit sign. His hand shakes as it reaches up to push your glasses from your face onto your head.

Without them, he looks fuzzy and soft around the edges.

He says, “Can I kiss you?” and it feels like there’s a bird trapped in your ribcage.

“Yes. Kiss me.”

Wakatoshi kisses nothing like you expected, all tongues and teeth and heavy fingers in the dip of your waist. He growls when you gasp and mewl against him, sucking on your lower lip as your hands find purchase in his shirt. He kisses you so absolutely breathless that you think you might pass out. Your knees buckle and you pull away, gasping with your eyes closed for a moment until you come back to yourself.

“Are you alright, little one?”

The endearment makes your cheeks flush with heat and your eyes snap open.

“Yes, I’m alright. Please do it again.”

And so he does it again, and again, and again until you find yourself bringing him home with you on the last bus that goes towards your neighborhood. He’s standing in the aisle, one hand wrapped around a pole and the other wound around you, who’s standing in front of him. He keeps you steady as the bus rounds a corner.

That night, you bring the peace of the greenhouse into your home, and the only thing you find yourself wishing for is that it never leaves.

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima x fem!reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! fanfic #hq fanfic #valkyrie writes #exactly the spring #haikyuu fluff #ushijima fluff #don't look at me i'm posting this early bc i'm IMPATIENT #*sobs*

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musette22 · 3 years

Note

Local museum volunteer Chris explaining all the items and history facts to teacher Sebastian and his 20 kids on a school trip or to single dad Sebastian and his twins (one who is really into it and ask a lot of "but why?" And the other one who just sticks his fingers up his nose and yawns lmao)

Okay so I was just on a walk and I started thinking about this ask again (I am so so so sorry for how long it took me to reply to this, I suck wow) because I couldn’t get that new pic of Seb looking like a literal DILF out of my head, but I couldn’t remember the specifics so what came out is slightly different from what you suggested but not much – hope you still like it (I personally screamed into my fist multiples times while thinking about this – I’m furious at how cute this little scenario is, thank you so so much for this!)

Disclaimer: I literally wrote this just now so it’s unbeta’d and probably riddled with nonsense, but I hope you guys like nonetheless! <3

*********************

“Hi, guys! Welcome to the Concord Museum. My name is Chris and I’ll be your guide this afternoon.”

Chris eyes the little family – a father and two young kids – standing in front of him in the entrance hall of the bite-sized museum, then makes a show of looking around the otherwise empty hall. “Seems like it’s a quiet one today, so you’ll have me all to yourself!”

The father smiles, his sparkling, blue-grey eyes crinkling in the corners in a way that Chris shouldn’t be thinking of as ‘adorable’, but does nonetheless.

“Fantastic,” the man says warmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Chris. This is Margot,” – he gestures to the girl of about eight standing next to him – “and this little guy here is David,” he adds, lightly bouncing the three or four-year-old, curly haired boy on his hip. David gives Chris a wide eyed look before promptly burying his face in his father’s neck. “He’s a little shy,” the dad says fondly.

“That’s fine,” Chris tells them. With a smile, he ducks his head to try and catch David’s eye. “You’re not the only one, kiddo. I’m a little shy myself sometimes, you know.”

“I’m not shy,” Margot pipes up.

“No,” her dad agrees with a chuckle, “you certainly are not.”

Chris turns his eyes back to their father’s face. “And your name..?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man says, “I’m Sebastian.” He holds out his hand for Chris to shake, warm and dry with long, elegant fingers that fit nicely against Chris’s own, studier ones.

Sebastian, Chris thinks. Perfect name for a perfect guy. The term ‘DILF’ flashes unbidden through Chris’s mind – wildly inappropriate, given the circumstances, but oh so accurate. Sebastian has a sweet, charming smile, incredible bone structure, and dark, wavy hair, swept up in a quiff-like style that manages to make him look both sophisticated and a little boyish at the same time. There’s a hint of grey at his temples as well as in his beard that has Chris placing him at maybe two or three years older than himself.

“New York?” Chris guesses, as he reluctantly lets go of Sebastian’s hand.

“That’s right,” Sebastian nods. “Well, formerly, anyway. We just moved to the area, actually.”

“Oh, really? What brought you all the way out here?”

Sebastian runs a hand through his hair; a nervous habit, perhaps. “Oh, um. My ex-wife got a job in Boston last year, and I didn’t want to be too far from her and the kids, so I decided to follow suit. Only moved down here last month. This is my first full weekend with these guys at my new place, so I thought I’d take them out to do something cultural, learn a little about the local history, y’know?”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of that here,” Chris assures him. “In fact,” he adds sheepishly, “that’s kinda all we've got.”

Sebastian laughs, causing Chris’s brain to glitch, which is probably why the next thing that comes out of his mouth is – “Divorce, huh? I’m sorry, that must’ve been tough.”

When Sebastian doesn’t answer straight away, Chris wants to kick himself for running his big, stupid mouth. As usual. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes hastily. “That’s none of my business. Just tryin’ to make small talk, but I always seem to forget I’m really bad at that. Just forget I said anything.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sebastian assures him, flashing Chris a quick smile. “Thank you. These things are never easy, but it’s better this way, you know?”

“They’re not fighting or anything,” Margot chimes in again, from a few feet below. “Mommy and daddy only got divorced because mommy’s a girl and daddy likes boys better than girls. Right, daddy?"

Well. Chris tries not to be too obvious about glancing at Sebastian’s face to see his reaction to that bombshell his daughter just dropped, but he’s not sure how well he manages.

Sebastian closes his eyes for a moment as if praying for strength. “That's right, sweetheart,” he says with a grimace. “But I'm sure Chris doesn't need to hear about all that."

Chris begs to differ – he’s actually extremely interested in hearing about all this, but before he has a chance to say anything in reply, Margot squares her jaw and crosses her football jersey-clad arms.

“Why not?” she asks defiantly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Some girls just like girls and some boys like boys, it’s totally normal. It’s not prola- probu –" She sighs in frustration, looking up at her dad, who’s watching her with something like pride on his handsome face.

“Problematic?”

“Yeah,” Margot concurs, “not probametic.”

Chris hums in agreement. “It’s not, you’re absolutely right. I’ll tell you what,” he tells her conspiratorially, “I happen to like boys better, too.”

Margot’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You do?”

“I do.”

Suddenly, Margot’s little face lights up, her shrewd eyes flitting to her dad’s face for a second, then back to Chris. “Do you like my dad?”

“Margot,” Sebastian cuts in, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “That’s enough, honey.” When he tuns back to Chris to give him an apologetic look, Chris can’t help but notice the slight blush coloring his cheeks. “I’m sorry about that. She’s gotten it into her head that she needs to find me the perfect man ASAP, or I’ll waste away or something.”

Chris laughs, throwing back his head in genuine mirth. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine,” he assures them, then claps his hands together to change the precarious subject. “So, who’s ready to learn a little bit about what living in Concord was like over a hundred years ago?”

******

Chris always enjoys volunteering at the museum – it’s nice to give something back to the community that’s been his home for his entire life, and to chat to visitors from all over who have come to visit the land of Little Women, among other things – but what Chris likes best is when he gets to show kids around the place. Some of them need to be won over (after all, a dusty old museum isn’t quite as exciting as a trip to Disney World), but others are instantly captivated by the strange objects and old-timey atmosphere – Sebastian’s kids, fortunately, seem to fall in the latter category.

There’s one room in particular that’s an invariably a favorite with kids – the one that houses the old children’s toys. Trains, dolls and dollhouses, most of them made from wood, all arranged in a colorful parade, with a few screens set up in front of the glass display cases on which kids can watch animations of the toys being used. To Chris’s delight, Margot and David are both immediately taken with the display, David pressing his nose against the glass while Margot fires off question after question that Chris answers patiently and to the best of his ability.

“You sure know a lot about them,” Sebastian remarks, not without a hint of admiration, once Chris has finished explaining the mechanics of the miniature train set.

“Ah.” Chris rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess you could say I’m something of a toy enthusiast myself. I’ve actually got a carpentry workshop – that’s my real job,” he explains. “I’m just a volunteer here – and I dabble in some toy making sometimes, too.”

Sebastian’s eyes widen. “You’re kidding. I used to want to be a toy maker when I was a kid, you know,” he says wistfully. “Probably just saw Pinocchio one too many times, but it just seemed like the best job in the world to me, at the time.”

“It kinda is,” Chris grins at Sebastian, getting lost in his dancing grey eyes for a moment. “So what did you end up doing for a living, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m a journalist. I love it, don’t get me wrong. It’s enriching, challenging. But there’s just something about working with your hands, creating something tangible, something useful…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Chris nods. He bites his lip, hesitating for just a moment before deciding to bite the bullet. “Hey, I don’t know if you guys have plans after this, but my shift ends in a few minutes. I live pretty close, maybe a ten minute drive – if you want, I could show you my workshop? Maybe the kids can try out some of the things I’ve been working on, see if they’re actually any fun to play with?”

There’s an excited collective gasp from the kids, both of them immediately turning big, hopeful eyes on their father. “Oh, daddy,” Margot pleads, tugging on his sleeve. “Can we go see the workshop, pleaaase?”

Chris tries to ignore the way his stomach drops when Sebastian visibly hesitates.

“I don’t know, guys.” Sebastian looks back at Chris. “I don't want to intrude. It’s almost dinner time on a Saturday. I’m sure you’ve got plans, maybe with your partner..?”

Oh, Chris thinks, chest expanding with hope. He shakes his head. “No partner,” he says, holding Sebastian’s gaze. “Just a dog.”

“A dog?” Margot squeals. “Oh my god, daddy, he’s got a dog. We have to go.”

Sebastian chuckles, rolling his eyes. "They've been hounding me about a dog for months, excuse the pun. I want one too, but I'm just not sure I'm home enough.”

Chris nods sympathetically. “Yeah, it can be tricky if you work full-time, but there’s usually a solution for this kind of thing, in my experience.”

“What’s your dog’s name?” Margot interrupts, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet.

“He’s called Dodger,” Chris tells her, unable to keep the pride out of his voice as he talks about his beloved, four legged-rescue.

From Sebastian’s other side, a small voice suddenly joins in. “Like the one from Oliver?” asks David. His big, brown eyes are wide as he stares up at Chris.

“That’s right,” Chris confirms, dropping to his haunches to level the playing field a little. “Exactly like the one from Oliver. You like that movie, huh?”

David nods, looping one arm around one of his dad’s long legs while clearly fighting the urge to hide behind him completely. “It’s my favorite,” he mutters, then quickly sticks his thumb in his mouth to signal the end of the conversation.

“Really?” Chris asks, beaming at him. “It’s my favorite, too!”

David actually smiles at that, doing an excited little wiggle on the spot. “Daddy, can we go see Dodger, please?” he asks his dad, not bothering to remove his thumb from his mouth.

From his spot on the floor, Chris looks up Sebastian too, probably looking just as hopeful as the kids are – maybe even more so.

Smiling, Sebastian shakes his head. “Sure, buddy,” he laughs, ruffling David’s hair. “How could I resist all these cute little faces, huh?”

There’s a chorus of cheers from the kids that gives Chris a much-needed moment to recover from the euphoria of hearing Sebastian call him cute. Well, sort of.

“Alright,” Chris says, getting to his feet again. “I’ll just go grab my things. Meet you guys in the parking lot?”

“Sounds good.”

Chris nods and is about to head in the direction of the staff room, when Sebastian halts him with a hand on his arm. Chris stops in his tracks, swallowing as he tears his gaze away from Sebastian’s elegant hand on his bicep, back to his face.

“Thank you,” Sebastian says, giving him a look from under his eyelashes that can only be described as coy. “I really appreciate this, you know.”

Holding Sebastian’s gaze, Chris lifts a hand to cover Sebastian’s with his own, giving it a quick squeeze. “It’s my pleasure,” he replies honestly. “Trust me.”

Smiling, Sebastian bites his lip, no doubt noticing the way Chris’s eyes flicker down to his mouth when he does. “I do.”

Chris’s foolishly romantic heart can’t help but skip a beat.

“See,” Margot says suddenly from beside them, breaking the moment and sounding awfully smug about it, too. “Not prolametic at all.”

Chris barks out a laugh while Sebastian covers his eyes with his hand. “Whatever you do, never have kids.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Chris chuckles, giving Margot a wink and David’s hair a quick ruffle. “I kinda like yours.”

Sebastian clears his throat. “Alright, guys. Let’s go find your jackets and we’ll go see what Chris has in store for us, huh?”

#evanstan #rpf #kid fic #minnie answers #my fic #my writing #Anonymous

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mlqcanonymous · 4 years

Note

hi can i ask a scenario when tbe boys find out that their s/o was once abandoned at the altar on her wedding day? thanks

I remembered this was the first person who asked me if I accepted requests/asks 😂 Well, you got what you asked for! I wrote this in the middle of taking the exam lol So, if it sucks, blame it on rhe exams haha! PS. Some of the boys aren’t married to MC yet so I hope that’s okay with you!

𝓥𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓻

For the past few days after Victor’s proposal and your lame response (“Can I think about it first?”), Victor noticed you’ve been acting a bit odd.

To him, it seemed like you were no longer sure how to act around him. He noticed how you pause whenever you were in the same room as him, how your words were more hesitant and how your movements were more withdrawn.

You’ve been together for four years already and living together for nearly a year. To see you act so differently just felt so wrong for him.

Was it because of the proposal? Victor thought one afternoon in his office. He didn’t see anything wrong with his proposal and he already told you that he’d wait for your answer as long as it took.

So, what was wrong? What changed? What was different now?

Could it be that you no longer loved him?

It just struck Victor then that maybe the reason why you asked for more time was because you were thinking about how to break up with him.

And honestly, for someone like Victor who was always sure of his actions and who never hesitated on his words, he didn’t know what to do if that were the case.

Victor already took away your right to decide once (back then with the whole bodyguards business thing) and he couldn’t imagine taking it away when you stressed it enough how important it was for you.

Taking it away again would be so despicable and undeserving of you that if it ever came to a point where you decided to leave him, he would undoubtedly let you go no matter how much it was killing him in the process.

Thinking about it not only made his head hurt, but also made him unable to properly breathe due to the pressure mounting on his chest.

Preoccupied by the thoughts running in his head, Victor didn’t even notice when you came in his office until you spoke his name.

He snapped out of his thoughts and upon seeing you, blurted out the first thing that came to his head, “Are you leaving me?”

“Wait, what?” You asked, caught off guard by his abrupt question. “No! What? Victor, I’m not leaving you. What made you think that?”

Victor, at first, didn’t want to admit the reason why, but when you looked at him with such a worried expression like that, he went on to explain what he observed, what it meant, and the conclusions it formulated. He did all of this reluctantly, as if admitting it aloud would also be admitting a weakness.

You listened to all of his points, and once he was finished, you berated yourself for putting him in a such uncomfortable position that most likely caused the ever unbreakable and untouchable Victor to feel doubtful. It was something that almost never happened so you could imagine how discomfited he was.

“Oh, I’m sorry I made you think that way, Victor,” you said, regret coating every cadence of your voice. Then you hesitated.

You honestly didn’t know how to proceed and what to say next, afraid that what you would reveal next would cause Victor to doubt you. But you hid the truth for a very long time and that was no longer an option if the consequence would be ruining your relationship with him forever.

You sat down across him and finally decided to reveal the truth. “The reason why I’ve been so strange lately is because... I admit, it’s because of your proposal, but it’s not what you think!” You rushed out before he could form a remark. You fidgeted in your seat, finding it unable to meet his gaze, and forced yourself to proceed. “You see, back when I was in university, I had a relationship with someone. It was a serious one, the kind that led to an engagement.”

Victor’s facial expression didn’t change but inside, he was surprised and a bit cautious as he listened to what you were revealing to him. He didn’t know that you had a relationship before and he certainly didn’t know that you had gotten engaged to someone else.

"My dad didn’t exactly approve of my relationship with him. He thought that he wasn’t good enough for me, I guess. But I loved him and wanted to stay with him. So, for the first time in my life, I disobeyed my dad and my ex and I got together. We made our relationship a secret from everyone else; no one knew aside from us. At first, it was thrilling. We were young and happy and in love, and I though that being with him was simply the best time of my life."

"But then, later, things changed. We got into more fights and arguments about our relationship and coming clean to my dad. It got worse and worse as months passed by, and for some reason, he thought that the solution was to get married-- in secret. It didn’t sit well with me, but I truly thought that I loved him that when he proposed on my graduation day, I said yes."

You paused, jaw clenching as memory after memory bombarded your mind. The memory wasn’t as painful as before, but it would still affect you somehow until to this very day. Maybe because those memories didn’t get the closure that it deserved, or maybe because you were sharing these awful memories to the love of your life and you couldn’t imagine someone having the same kind of burden you have.

“But, on the day of the wedding... he didn’t show up.”

There, you finally said it. There was absolutely no going back after this.

“He stood me up and I never knew the reason why,” you added, emotions welling up inside of you.

“The reason why I’m acting weird is because I’m scared, alright?” It was like a dam broke and all of your worries and fears poured out of you without anything to stop it or hold it back. “For a long time, I wondered why he left me. He left me without an explanation or a proper goodbye, and for a long time, I thought it was my fault. I thought that something was wrong with me and that’s why he stood me up. When he left, it absolutely broke me. And... And I can’t imagine what would happen to me if you leave me, too. He might have broken me, but I can’t even think about the devastation that I would feel if that would happened again.”

Because you loved Victor with all of your heart, with more feelings than you could possibly imagine. You never thought you would feel the same way again after what happened, but Victor made you feel that way more deeply than before. It was Victor and it would always be Victor for you.

You hang your head, ashamed at yourself and the past you tried desperately to hide, because you couldn’t admit aloud to someone else how you felt like a failure before.

But then you felt Victor’s strong arms around you, embracing you with all of his warmth, and you fell into his chest, listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. And everything was okay in the world because he was there and he was still holding you like you were the most precious thing he had ever held before, and there couldn’t be anything more precious than you.

“I’m sorry.” His soft breath caressed your ear as his gentle voice filled the air. “I’m sorry I made you relive those memories. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you like this, and I’m so, so sorry. Don't ever think that you're not worth it or you're not good enough, because beloeve me, you are. I want nothing more than to go back to the past and stop what happened to you because you don't deserve that. Please, stop being ashamed when you did nothing wrong. You just happened to love a wrong person and that's not your fault. You shouldn't blame yourself for the mistakes that others made, especially towards you. But, at the same time, I’m happy.”

He pulled away slightly to peer into your eyes and you knew that there was nothing more beautiful aside from the sight of his purple eyes. “I’m happy because if he showed up and you married him, I would never get to hold you like this. I would never get to love you like this and I would never be this happy without you in my life. That’s why you don’t have to be scared about me leaving you, dummy. Because, for me, even imagining a life without you is torture. I can handle losing everything I have in life and I would sacrifice everything that I do have in order to have you so don’t ever forget that.”

You grinned at him, unable to hide the relief in your eyes at his words and unable to deny the warmth that spread throughout your whole body because of his sincerity. You were no longer afraid as long as he was by your side. “That might be one of the nicest things you ever said to me,” You couldn’t help but tease him as you brought up a hand to cup his face.

He chuckled and rested his forehead against yours. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I don’t know.” You smirked cheekily. “Maybe I will once we get married.”

“Wait, what?”

ᧁꪖꪜ𝓲ꪀ

It was a fine Saturday day and you and your husband, Gavin, were in the mall, picking out furniture for your brand new house. You two had just gotten married and, just last week, had moved into a new house where you planned to spend the rest of your lives together.

Needless to say, it was a fun experience and a bit reminiscent of your furniture date years ago, back when you two were just getting reacquainted for the first time in a very long time.

That’s why you absolutely didn’t expect for this day to be the day when you finally bumped into your ex-fiancé after he had left you at the altar years before.

At first, you didn’t notice that it was him. It was such a long time ago, and those memories were buried deeply in your head that it was almost as if it never existed. So, when you two met again, it was quite a shock.

You were rendered speechless and, by the way he was staring at you, it seemed that he felt the same thing.

“MC?” He asked, disbelief coloring his tone of voice. “Wow... I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Oh,” you said, blinking out of your daze. “Oh, wow, hi. I— wow...”

This was an incredibly awkward experience. You two seemed unable to comprehend the situation in front of you, like it was a surreal moment that even the wildest of your imaginations couldn’t come up with. You couldn’t say anything to him and, worse yet, you couldn’t even move your feet to walk away.

You didn’t love him anymore. Love wasn’t anywhere near close to what you felt for him now. But it was undeniable how there was so many things left unsaid between the two of you, that it created some sort of tension around you.

So, you didn’t know whether to feel thankful, relieved, or feel apprehension when Gavin showed up at that moment.

Gavin’s eyebrows rose seeing the two of you together, and after casting a suspicious look at your ex, he turned to you, ignoring the other man completely.

“Where have you been? I thought I lost you. You do know that the living room set is that way,” he said, chuckling softly as he slipped an arm over your shoulder.

You tensed for some reason before glancing at your ex watching you with your new husband. You felt the sudden need to explain, to introduce Gavin to him, to finally let go of the past that continued to taunt and mock you until Gavin came into your life and made it better. It didn’t matter if you never got closure; it mattered that you were now happy with your new life with someone else who loved you fiercely.

“Gavin?” You addressed your husband before gesturing to your ex. “Uhm, this was my ex-fiancé. And, this is Gavin, my husband.”

Gavin was unable to hide the surprise from his face when you introduced him to your ex.

Probably because you never mentioned a certain ex-fiancé to him before, you thought sheepishly. Your painful past wasn’t something that you advertised and with Gavin now a part of your life, it just seemed so irrelevant compared to what you have now with Gavin.

Gavin immediately covered his surprise with a neutral expression as he shook hands with your ex.

“So, you’re already married. Wow,” said your ex in disbelief. He opened his mouth to say something but then hesitated a moment, before he tried again. “Uhm, I hope you two have a happy life together. Best of luck to the both of you.”

Before you could say about anything else, your ex turned on his heel and left, his shoulders slumped and his steps long but slow. You and Gavin watched him walk away and you couldn’t help but feel sort of sorry for him, although you didn’t know why.

You didn’t know what kind of life he led after he left you. You didn’t even know if he regretted what he did. But it happened; and that was something that wouldn’t change. It was painful, of course, but you learned from the pain and in result, you came out stronger and happier than ever.

“So, care to tell me what happened with him?” Gavin’s question broke you out of your thoughts. He sounded a bit too casual for your liking. “I didn’t know you almost got married to someone else.”

Your lips tipped up in a small smile as you reached out a hand to his. “That was a long time ago, back before I never thought I’d meet you again. I didn’t tell you before because it wasn’t something I liked to discuss and over time, it wasn’t important enough to discuss considering what happened.”

“He was your ex-fiancé,” Gavin emphasized, like it mattered. Which, it did on some accounts. He might be a little upset about the fact that you never spoke of it or even mentioned it in passing.

“Yes, my ex-fiancé,” you said then proceeded breezily, “who left me at the altar on our wedding day.”

One second. A two. Then Gavin let out a loud, “What?!” There was fire in his golden eyes as he clenched his jaw, outraged at the treatment you received many years ago. “He... left you like that?”

You nodded your head. In contrast to him, you looked perfectly calm and rational while he looked seconds away from snapping his sanity in order to hunt your ex down. If you knew anything about Gavin, it was that he would absolutely find your ex and beat the shit out of him.

He was protective like that, but as a dutiful wife, you couldn’t let that happen. For one thing, Gavin was a cop and for another, you didn’t want to spend the rest of your married life with a husband locked behind bars.

To calm him down, you leaned closer to his side and wrapped your arms around his trim waist, knowing that your presence would soothe the blazing anger inside of him.

And slowly, it worked. His tensed shoulders relaxed, his taut posture loosened, and he even brought a hand up to pat your head. It was sweet in a way, and almost scary knowing the kind of effect that you had on him.

“You’re sexy when you get angry,” you said, smiling to his shoulder.

“I’m always sexy,” he retorted as the both of you headed towards the living room set, with you leading him away from the direction where your ex disappeared into.

“You don’t have to be angry on my behalf,” you told him, looking up at his handsome profile. “It happened a long time ago. He was the first guy who showed interest in me and made me feel loved, in a way. Plus, my dad liked him so it just made him more attractive to me, I guess?”

“I don’t think I like the sound of you talking about someone you’re attracted with,” Gavin grumbled, frowning.

You laughed. Of course this was the time when he’d get jealous. “Obviously, I’ve moved on,” you assured him. “I guess what hurts the most isn’t the fact that he left me or that he didn’t give me a reason why, but the fact that he disappointed my dad. They were really close, almost like father and son, and when he didn’t show up, it broke my dad’s heart which made the memories more painful. But now, I’m happy with my life with you. Yes, it hurt, and I don’t think I deserved it, but all the pain that I’ve felt that time was worth it when I met you.”

He didn’t say anything. He just looked at you intently, as though he was memorizing every inch of your face. Then, he smiled. A small, barely noticeable smile, but it was a smile nonetheless and a beautiful one at that.

“It sucks to be him,” Gavin said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “I got to be with you while he’s likely regretting what he did. His loss, my gain. Funny how life works.”

Yes, funny how life works out for the better.

Gavin cleared his throat, rubbed the back of his neck, and didn't meet your eyes. "Ever wonder what your dad would think about us?"

You beamed at him. "Honestly, I have no idea what my dad would think. But I have no doubt that wherever my dad is, he's happy now knowing that I'm with someone who would never intentionally hurt me and who tries his best to show me that I'm loved every single day."

Gavin ducked his head, a smirk on his lips as a spark of happiness flashed in his amber eyes. And you two went on your way, the revelation merely a speck of dust in your lives. Inconvenient, but easily ignored.

The past never truly mattered when you two had a future to look forward to.

KIᖇO

The wife of a popular and well-loved idol was something that you were still getting used to. Even though you two are almost a year into your marriage, there were still days when you were caught off guard by how easy but passionate your relationship was with Kiro.

It didn’t matter that you still received death threats from die hard fans of Kiro or that every once in a while, an article or two would pop out to falsely claim that you and Kiro were having a divorce, or you were having an affair, and other unsavory things such as that.

The two of you were still as strong as ever. So strong in fact, that it was starting to worry you a little. You never knew when the other shoe would drop and hit your head, waking you up to a reality where everything you loved and held dear weren’t yours to begin with.

And the other shoe did drop.

The day it happened was a completely normal day for you. As usual, Kiro was busy promoting his new single while you were busy preparing a new show for your company. You were actually planning to visit Kiro that afternoon since your dear husband forgot his lunch because of how busy and preoccupied he was.

But a news spread throughout the internet while you were driving to the studio, and this news just so happen to have your name in it. You didn’t know about the news and.you especially didn't notice the way people stared at you after walking into the building where Kiro worked. You also didn’t hear your phone ringing -- all calls coming from Anna, Willow, Kiki, Savin, and Kiro -- because you put it on silent mode. You absolutely had no idea what was going on by the time you reached the studio.

When Kiro saw you though, he immediately pulled you aside to the dressing room, away from prying eyes, which immensely confused you.

“Kiro, honey? What’s wrong?” You asked, watching with a puzzled expression as he locked the door.

“Didn’t you get my messages and calls?” Kiro asked, turning to face you, looking worried for some reason.

You shook your head no. “No, I was driving. You know how I always turn my phone off when I drive. Why? What happened?”

“So, you have no idea about the article about you?” Before you could ask what he meant, Kiro pulled out his phone and showed you a news article that featured you--and the long forgotten past you all but forgot until that day.

You paused as you stared at the headline -- something about you being Kiro’s wife and almost getting married before and other things that the public should never had privy to because it was a complete invasion of privacy -- and then looked at Kiro’s face, his baby blue eyes earnest as he waited for your reaction.

“I... I can explain,” you started to say and you watched as he blinked his eyes in surprise before he dropped his arm to the side.

“So, it’s true?” He asked, eyes serious which looked so different from the playful Kiro that you fell in love with. “All of it? You were really engaged to someone else before?”

You slowly nodded your head, fear snaking its way to your spine as you waited for the inevitable explosion that was about to occur. “It happened a couple of years ago,” you told him like it could solve everything. “He was older than me for at least ten years, I think. I was young and stupid, and I was... I was immediately enamored with this person that I completely forgot who I was. I was only twenty that time and I didn’t know any better."

You bit your lower lip, preventing yourself from openly breaking down in front of your husband, as your nails dug into the skin of your palms. "I didn’t know... that he was already married to someone else, and that he had a child. I didn’t know about any of it until the day I was going to get married to him. He didn’t show up on our wedding day, but just gave me a sorry ass letter telling me the whole truth."

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I didn’t tell you -- not because I thought you didn’t deserve it -- but because it was too hard to say it aloud. I was so stupid and-- and--”

No words were needed to be said as Kiro pulled you into his arms, shushing you softly. It just broke you, being in his arms when you felt like you didn't deserve it. You trembled as your hands clenched and unclenched into fists, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around him. But you stopped yourself because you were afraid he would find your touch disgusting.

"Stop," he said, whispering the words to your ear so soft that you closed your eyes and dropped your forehead against his shoulder. "Stop before I start to feel angry. Well"--he sighed, his warm breath brushing against your ear--"I'm already angry to be honest, but I don't want you to think that I'm angry at you."

"You're not?" The question that slipped past your open lips was timid and meek.

"I'm not angry at you, no," he assured you while rubbing tiny circles over your back, still holding you tightly in his arms. "I'm disappointed that you didn't tell me, but I get it. That past was painful and shameful for you. I would’ve been willing to wait for you to tell me but this thing happened and I’m so sorry you’re being watchedand judged like this because of me.”

“It’s not your fault, Kiro,” you told him, brushing his blond locks at the back of his head with the tips of your fingers, finally finding the courage to touch and hold him.

"I'm just..." Kiro struggled for a moment before he eventually continued, "I’m more angry about the fact that someone hurt you before when I’m trying so hard, every single minute of every day, to make you feel beautiful and appreciated because you truly are."

At his words, there was clearly no other choice but to hold him just as he held you before. You tightened your arms around him, unable to believe your luck that after you’ve been hurt in the past, you’re now in the arms of the man who treasured you more than anything else in the world. You didn’t know what kind of good karma you managed to collect in your past lives to receive such a blessing in the form of an angel with baby blue eyes and golden blond hair. Whatever good luck it was, you resolved to make even more luck just to have him again in your next life.

He let out a sigh as he dropped a kiss on top of your head. "I don’t know," he murmured, "but I have the urge to find the man and ask why he did that to you. Maybe I might even beat him up."

You burst out a laugh. “You can’t beat people up and you don’t want to.” The last thing anyone needed right now was for someone to charge Kiro with assault.

“I do want to beat someone up now,” he said with all the seriousness of a kid. “And I can very well do that to someone, I just choose not to.”

“No fighting,” you said, shaking your head. You honestly didn’t know how you got into this topic of conversation.

“Fine,” he pouted and stared at you intently. “Are you okay?”

Your breath hitched at the intensity of his eyes and the silent promise in his voice. The kind of promise that spoke of the fact that he would do whatever it took to take care of you and love you. That voice resembled that time when he was speaking his vows to you, on your wedding day.

And you smiled, the past no longer there to burden you. Rather, it was there to open a new path of life in the hands of a man who cherished you. “I am, now,” you answered.

Later, at home, a new article spread throughout Loveland City.

“What happened with my wife before was in the past,” said Kiro in the article, addressing the issue of the damning gossip about you and your ex-fiancé. “She was young and in love then, and many people make a lot of less than ideal decisions when they’re young and in love, right? But that was the past and this is now. Trying to bring the past up now when we’re married and happy with each other is wrong; defining my wife because of what happened to her in the past is wrong; trying to ruin a perfectly great relationship is wrong. I know what happened to her before is not something that I would wish on anyone else.”

“To be honest, the issue that you’ve spread should’ve been addressed within our family by ourselves, as husband and wife, in the privacy of our home. It’s not something that you should be exploiting or gossiping about. That’s why I’m asking, not as your idol, but as a husband who loves his wife very much, to please stop the previous article from spreading. My wife is the most beautiful, kindest woman that I know, and she doesn’t deserve this. That’s all, thank you.”

But truly, the rest of the world didn’t matter, as long as Kiro looked at you just like that.

𝕷𝖚𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓

He looked at himself in the mirror and was caught off guard at the change that the tux brought out in him. Today was his wedding day--something that he never expected to happen to him, but was made come true when you agreed to marry him when he proposed out on a whim.

So, here he was now, preparing for his wedding day, and taking a quick break to watch himself in the mirror. This moment, right here, felt so surreal for him. He often wondered if this was real, and it wasn't some kind of fantasy that his mind had conjured out of madness.

He fixed his crooked tie. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been delirious with the thought of you in his mind.

A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts and when the door opened, he was surprised to see you standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but a thick, fluffy bathrobe. Your hair was already styled into a low chignon and your face was made up with beautiful makeup. Beautiful didn't even come close to the image you presented to his vison.

The only thing marring the image was the agitated creases across your forehead and the frown upon your coral tinted lips.

"What's wrong?" He asked, heading towards you and cupping your head with gentle, elegant hands. "Is something the matter?"

He felt your jaw clenching beneath his palms. You brought a hand up to grasp his wrist. With a hesitant voice, you said, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Lucien held his breath before nodding his acquiescence. You led him to a white loveseat and you both sat at the same time, neither talking. For you, you were silent because you were trying your best to formulate some kind of coherent thought. For him, he was silent because he was bracing for the worst.

You breathed in a lungful of air before angling your body towards him. "The reason why I wanted to talk to you... is because I haven't been truthful to you."

His eyebrows rose in shock but he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to interrupt a rather poignant confession coming from you.

"I wanted to tell you the truth for a long time now but... but whenever I get a chance to tell you, I always get discourage and I end up not telling you in the end. But I don't want to hide the truth any longer. Now that we're getting married in a few hours, I know that I can't marry you while also lying to you at the same time. So, here I am now, finally..."

Your heart pounded hard against your chest as you began pouring out the memories and thoughts running your mind for at least a few months now. But you proceeded, even if it caused you pain as you ripped open old wounds that, to be honest, never truly healed properly.

"A long time ago, before I even met you, I got into a relationship with someone else. We were each other's first loves, and it wasn't long before he and I got engaged. I was still in university that time, so it was a long engagement where we planned to get married after graduation. And we did--plan a wedding, I mean. It was a beautiful one, too. I remembered how excited we were to get married and spend the rest of our lives together. We were just so ready to start a family that we didn't even talk or think about anything else. It just felt.. it felt so pefect, you know? Like we were on top of the world and nothing can go wrong."

Lucien felt a lump in his throat and it took everything in his power to open his mouth and ask, "What happened?"

A forlorn smile spread across your face. "Well, it turns out nothing is perfect after all and everything can go wrong in just a split second. On the day of our wedding, he... he, uh, didn't show up. I waited for him. I waited for a long time but there was no sign of him. It wasn't until a few hours later when we got a call and... and it turns out that he got into an accident." A shudder wracked through your body as your mind went back to a dark time in your life. "He was already dead by the time the wedding started and I never even knew that he was no longer with me."

This was one of the hardest thing you'd ever done but you still plowed through, knowing that you had to do this. "I thought, for a few hours while I was waiting for him at the altar, that he changed his mind, that he got cold feet and decided that he didn't want to marry me anymore. When I found out that he died, I wished that he got cold feet instead. It was better when I thought that he changed his mind, than to find out that he died when he was about to marry me. It took a long while for me to recover and it's still painful to think about it."

"That's why I didn't tell you until now because..." you gazed at him with your sorrowful eyes, you hands reaching out to hold his. "Because I don't want the same thing to happen to you. I don't want to lose you the same way I lost him."

"Oh, silly girl," Lucien breathed out softly as he brushed your cheek using the back of his hand. "To lose someone so young, it's very painful indeed." He thought of his parents and how it still pained him to this day to think about what could've been. He understood why you didn't tell him before, and why you struggle telling him now. "I wish with my entire being that you hadn't experienced that kind of suffering, but it happened and as much as I wish to change it, it can't be changed. I'm sorry that I hadn't known you were in that kind of pain."

"No, please don't say sorry. It isn't your fault. Bevause, honestly, when I'm with you, I'm happy," you told him, smiling a bit through teary eyes. "Everyday got a little easier knowing that I have you and I'm not alone anymore. Everyday I had something to look forward to aside from making shows. That's why I'm so thankful that I have you. I can't deny that it doesn't hurt because it still does. I think it will always hurt, but unlike before, it's a bearable kind of hurt now."

"I'm happy that I've made you happy," he said, grateful beyond all that he'd given you the same measure of happiness that you'd given him. "And you're right. It will always hurt but sometimes pain can be good too. It reminds you to hold on to the things that bring you peace."

He squeezed your hands gently, his eyes soft. "Just like how I hold on to you. Now, let's get married."

He never really believed that he'd be a sentimental person, but as he gazed into your eyes, speaking his vows to cherish you forever, a new vow echoed in his head.

I swear that I will take care of her just as you likely had before, he promised towards the unknown man who had loved you previously. She will never feel unloved or unwanted when she's with me. She will never have a reason to doubt me or us. As long as it's in my power, I will do whatever it takes to make her happy. She will not regret choosing me to love her.

And when you gazed at him with beaming eyes, those new vows were sealed.

ғɪɴ

That's all! Thank you for reading!

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joongtreasure · 4 years

Text

Hello Stranger || Street racer!Hyunjin + Car mechanic!Hyunjin

Hyunjin street racing au + car mechanic au

Genre: Fluff Pairing/s: Hyunjin x Reader

Warning/s: illegal street racing, slight making out

Word count: 4.9k

I was listening to Hello Stranger while writing this

Jisung blankly stared at the last card on the discarded pile. The red color seemed to glare at him in return. Changbin, Felix, and Jeongin waited for his move, wishing for the suspense to be over. They followed Jisung’s gaze as he looked alternately between the discarded pile and the last card that he was holding.

Felix grumbled. “We don’t have all day.”

Jisung scoffed before putting his last card down, revealing a wild draw four card. “I win!” Jisung threw his fist in the air before breaking into a mini dance.

“That’s not how you win in Uno!” Felix retorted.

The four got into a heated discussion about the rules of Uno. It was a typical Saturday in Chris Bang’s Garage. While some of Chan’s friends work for him, others would just laze around on the second-floor lounge. Almost every day they would hang out there, which Chan didn’t mind.

A voice interrupted their petty banter. “Hey, this is a garage, not a living room,” Hyunjin called from the work area. He gave them a pointed look before referring to the customer at the cash register. The customer was waiting awkwardly by the counter to pay for the repairs he requested in Chan’s garage. Felix scrambled from the couch to attend to him.

Hyunjin shook his head before laying on the car creeper. He rolled himself under the car that he was tending earlier. It also became part of his job to reprimand Felix to focus on his work rather than getting distracted by their friends. Chan's business was booming and they need all the help that they can get.

For Hyunjin, the garage is basically his home. It all started when he kept losing in his first few races. He needed the money so their family could get by. When Chan found out, he offered Hyunjin to work for him in the garage. He even offered to train him to be a better racer. Hyunjin readily agreed. He poured great efforts in working efficiently for Chan. In the end, not only did he become one of the greatest racers in the streets, but he also became Chan's right-hand man in the garage. He loved what he was doing. Now, he couldn’t imagine a life not surrounded by engines and the like.

“Ya ya ya,” Changbin called out from the lounge area. “If a nerdy-looking girl comes looking for me, call for me, alright?” He said.

“Define nerdy-looking,” Hyunjin said.

“Wears glasses, band shirts or cartoon shirts, and sneakers,” Changbin said before plopping back to the couch, not waiting for the crew to reply.

You looked at the address your brother sent you, then at the place in front of you. Chris Bang's Garage—your brother wanted to meet you here. You got into the same university as your brother, and you couldn’t wait to see him and his friends. Unfortunately, your brother had a prior commitment today, so you opted to take the bus instead and agreed to meet him in his friend’s garage.

You entered the already-open commercial garage doors. You were greeted with the sight of different flashy-colored cars. Some were hoisted on car lifts while others were being fixed on the ground. What got your attention was the debate between two guys about Uno.

“Didn’t Uno have a point system in the first place?” A boy with white hair argued.

“No!” A guy who oddly reminded her of a squirrel said. “The first person to discard all of their cards wins the game.”

You giggled at the sight before turning to the nearest person to ask for your brother, which was someone under a broken car. You hesitated, unsure if you should disturb him in his work.

Hyunjin wanted to block out their noise. He was really considering hitting them with a wrench to shut up. It wasn’t helping him concentrate on his work; the rest of the crew probably had the same thoughts. A pair of sneakers caught his attention. No one else seemed to notice someone standing by the entrance so he rolled out of the car to check who it was.

You were greeted by the sight of a blonde guy with a bandana. He was wearing a muscle tee that showcases his toned arms and work pants that had different tools in its pockets. His skin was glistening with sweat, probably from working in the garage. You suddenly became flustered as he was a sight to behold. He stared at you curiously.

Hyunjin was dumbstruck. The sunlight blinded him at first, then his eyes focused on your figure staring down at him. You looked utterly beautiful, ethereal even. You were probably a customer, seeing as the description Changbin gave didn’t fit you.

Hyunjin stood up and wiped his hands with a clean rag, wanting to look presentable in front of you. He suddenly became conscious that he was covered in sweat. He licked his lips, suddenly feeling his whole mouth go dry. He felt like he was undeserving of your presence. Why? He doesn't know.

“Can I help you with something?” Hyunjin asked, mustering a smile.

“I’m looking for my brother…” You replied, still dazed at the handsome guy.

“Brother?” Hyunjin pondered. “Who’s your brother?”

As if to answer his question, a voice yelled from the lounge. “Y/N!”

Changbin came running down the stairs, almost slipping (being the clumsy friend that he is). “It’s been so long!” He greeted you with a bear hug, swinging you around.

“Oppa, we saw each other during Christmas break.” You laughed but returned the hug.

Everyone in the garage was probably thinking the same thing: Changbin’s your brother? Hyunjin’s gaze switched alternately between you and Changbin, noting the vast contrast of your qualities. Changbin is like a demon summoned to make their life miserable. On the other hand, you look like an angel from heaven. What the hell? He thought.

Hyunjin looked at the others if they had the same thoughts. His question was answered at the sight of Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin openly staring at you. After pulling themselves together, they came down all at once, eager to meet you. Hyunjin rolled his eyes.

It’s been two weeks since your arrival, and what an excruciating two weeks it has been for Hyunjin. He can’t seem to focus whenever you’re around. One time, you just passed by and he was distracted momentarily that he didn’t notice that he stepped on a car creeper. He ended up slipping, his back landing perfectly on the ground. You were instantly beside him, but he refused to accept any help from you, choosing to trudge away in pain. Another was when you simply said hi to him. He waved back at you, but somehow the tire that he was fixing got loose and landed on his foot. He spent the rest of that day limping. So, he did the most logical solution, he avoided you.

You noticed this, of course. You find Hyunjin interesting. When you first met, you had a really good feeling about him. You felt like you could be close to him, so you tried to initiate interactions with him. But, lately, you have noticed that he’s been avoiding you. You didn’t see him anymore whenever you visited the garage, or whenever Changbin’s friends were hanging out at your place. You figured he didn’t like you so you stopped trying.

You knew Changbin was street racing ever since high school. You were the only one he trusted in the family to keep his illegal activities secret. Though at first, you didn’t like it, you knew there was no stopping Changbin. So you simply supported him, coming to his races from time to time.

You were doing your homework in Chan’s lounge while the boys were preparing for a race. You were supposed to leave in a while, but you got curious as you watched the boys doing last-minute fixes on their cars. You have no knowledge on cars, but, for you, they look really cool.

Hyunjin went up to the lounge to rest for a bit. This day was extra tiring. Felix’s job of delivering car parts to customers was thrust upon him; the younger boy apparently took a day off. Then, he helped his friends prepare for the race tonight. He was eager to get a power nap before going to the venue. Of course, that was before he noticed you on the couch. He immediately froze. ‘Would you notice him if he left all of a sudden? The stairs would be noisy.’ He thought.

You noticed Hyunjin, frozen at the topmost step. He probably didn't want to see you, you thought, so you started packing your stuff. “I’m sorry, you can use the couch,” you offered. "I was about to leave."

“No,” he said. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Really?” You chuckled. “I thought you didn't like me.”

“No, I like you.” Hyunjin winced at his own words but explained further. “I mean, I don’t NOT like you. I'm just… I'm just not used to new people.” A big lie.

“Ahh, I get it.” You nodded understandingly.

Plucking up the courage, he walked towards the couch and sat hesitantly beside you. You both were silent for a moment, the only noise you hear are the conversations among the boys in the work area and their engines. “Are you gonna watch the race?” Hyunjin asked, breaking the silence.

“Nope, I still have to study. I might leave in a few minutes though.” You turned to him. “How about you? You racing tonight?”

“I'm not sure yet.” He replied.

Another moment of silence. It wasn’t awkward. You both were comfortably watching your friends work. Though, you took the chance to admit something to Hyunjin. “I really admire you, Hyunjin.” You said. “You seem to love everything about cars.”

“What’s there to admire?”

“Well, you always seem to have your own bubble whenever you work. You’re really good at what you do.” You said.

"It's not that big of a deal." He said, rubbing the nape of his neck stiffly.

"To you, maybe," you said. "But still, I admire you."

Thank god to Chan for forgetting to change the bulb in the lounge, because he was blushing as hell at your words. He was speechless, to be honest. He never had anyone straight up tell him that, especially from the girl that he likes.

You giggled. “Let me guess, you’re also not used to getting compliments.”

Hyunjin shrugged. “You got that one right.”

You laughed. “You’re cute.” You said before standing up and getting your bag. “I should go, it’s getting late.” “You got a ride?”

You shook your head. “I’m taking the bus.”

He stood up too. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“But aren’t you going to the race?” You asked.

Hyunjin scoffed. “Nevermind, they’re gonna win anyway. Besides, it’s been a long day. I want to rest early.”

“Okay then.” You both went downstairs, shouting a quick goodbye to everyone before following Hyunjin to his car. Unbeknownst to both of you, your friends were smiling among themselves. Changbin, on the other hand, had a scowl, not sure if he likes the idea of you with Hyunjin.

Hyunjin’s car was a black and white Mazda RX7. “Sweet ride,” you said, looking at his car from top to bottom. Hyunjin opened the passenger side for you. What a gentleman, you thought. You said your thanks before hopping in. When you both were buckled up, he drove out of the area.

Hyunjin sped up as he got into the highway. “Are you comfortable?” He asked.

“Yes, thank you.” You mumbled. “You know I always wanted to see you race.”

“You do?” He chuckled. “You’d be bored.” You asked why, to which he replied while smirking, “No one would stand a chance.”

“I have never pegged you to be arrogant, Hyunjin.” You laughed. “Now I really want to see you race.”

“I’m just stating facts.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure you are."

Hyunjin drove the car into the suburb on the hillside. There were perks of having Changbin as your brother: a home that has a great view of the city, an awesome circle of friends, and, the best one of all, him as your chauffeur in a cool car.

The hill was quiet. Only a few houses lived on this side of the city. The road was basically dead, so you thought of something that could be fun for both of you. "Is it difficult to race uphill?" You asked.

"No," Hyunjin smirked. "Why?"

"Oh nothing," you said, acting nonchalant. "I just feel like this car is too slow or something."

Hyunjin shook his head in amusement. "Are you sure about that?" He shifted the gear and the car accelerated gradually until your surroundings became blurry. You held on to your seatbelt, anticipating the rush. You were in awe as trees blurred past you. "This is so cool." You muttered.

Hyunjin shifted gears, going faster. Normally, he wouldn't put someone in danger like that, but the way you initiated the challenge made him think that you also liked the rush. He wasn't even sure if it was okay with Changbin, but he still continued as he saw you actually enjoying the ride.

Reaching a curve, Hyunjin drifted the car smoothly until the road became straight again. The road towards your home consisted of a few more curves. Plus, it was uphill. One wrong maneuver and you might take a tumble down the hill. You eyed Hyunjin. “You can do it, right?”

Hyunjin just smirked. He drifted the car again as you reached another curve. Your worry vanished as he managed to drift through a few more curves with precision. You looked at him. Despite his cocky attitude earlier, he looked carefree at the moment. You figured that he likes racing for the thrill; that he was in it for the ride and not for the money. It really showed right at this moment. Soon, you felt the car slowing down until Hyunjin parked his car in front of your house.

You grinned. "Well, that was fun."

"Really?" Hyunjin laughed. "Are you okay?"

“Are you kidding? I can't remember the last time I've felt so much thrill in my life."

"Not even when Changbin's driving?"

"Changbin would drive like a mom when I'm with him." You retorted. "He never drives like that with me. Like ever."

Hyunjin hung his head in disappointment. "He's gonna kill me then."

"Don't worry." You giggled. "It'll be our little secret."

Hyunjin smiled, looking at your elated expression. He would do anything to see you happy again. Seeing you like this made him warm inside. That night, he changed his mind about avoiding you.

Ever since that night, you and Hyunjin grew closer. Your bond was natural; always annoying each other, always challenging each other. You started hanging out in Chan's garage more often than usual; from catching up with him in the lounge to helping him work. You actually became familiar with the different tools that he used. He would do the heavy work while you just handed him whatever he needed.

The other guys find it amusing that you were hanging out with Hyunjin rather than your brother. Changbin was quite bitter, but, in a way, relieved. Seeing you bloom in college made him happy, proud even. But, he was nervous that you would start dating guys who probably don't deserve you. When he noticed that you and Hyunjin seemed to be fond of each other, he was relieved. He trusts Hyunjin. He wanted nothing more than seeing you both happy with each other.

That's why Changbin approached Hyunjin because he trusts him when it comes to you. He'll start his internship soon. From then on, he would be too busy to pick you up and drop you at school. He knew Hyunjin’s work schedule in the garage is flexible. He’s doing this because 1) he hoped that through this, you two would finally realize you both like each other, 2) he thought that it would be good for Hyunjin to get out of the garage from time to time, and 3) again, he trusts Hyunjin when it comes to you.

"Hyunjin," he said, leaning against the car that Hyunjin was fixing. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Hyunjin rolled out of the car with a curious look. He stood up, cleaning his hand with a rag. "What's up?"

"As you know, I'll be starting my internship soon and I won't be around much to take care of Y/N," Changbin said. "I was hoping that you could drive her around to school."

"Sure," Hyunjin said without much thought.

"Well, that was easy." Changbin chuckled. "If I tell you to confess to her, would you?"

Hyunjin blushed, muttering 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

"Ya, you're so obvious." Changbin shook his head. "Just know that I'll come for you if something goes wrong, yeah?" He rubbed Hyunjin's hair teasingly before leaving the boy in a blushing mess.

Changbin told you about Hyunjin, and you were honestly happy with the setup. You would see Hyunjin more often now, even outside of the comforts of Chan's garage.

You just finished your last class for the day, and you were looking forward to seeing Hyunjin. You brushed your way past the hoard of students in the hallway. Arriving at your school's parking lot, you immediately spot Hyunjin. However, you frowned at the sight that greeted you.

Hyunjin was leaning against his car, looking annoyed as ever as a couple of students crowded him. A few guys were admiring his car while some girls were trying to make small talk with Hyunjin. Though he made it clear that he wasn't interested, they wouldn't leave him alone.

"I really like your car." One of them said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You must be really rich." Her posse giggled.

Hyunjin scoffed. 'Pretentious,' he thought. He ignored her despite her approaching figure; his sneakers more interesting than them.

The girl touched his arm and that’s when he finally had it. He moved away instantly. "Can you leave now while I'm being nice?"

You approached them, worried about Hyunjin. "Hey," you greeted.

Hyunjin visibly brightened when he saw you. He moved to the passenger side, opening the door for you to get in. You did so hesitantly, wary of the glaring eyes in front of you. Hyunjin got to his side and drove the car out of the school premises.

"How was school, princess?" He asked, smiling. His mood changed, you thought.

"It was okay, I guess." You said dryly.

Hyunjin frowned. "Is there something wrong?"

You shook your head. Maybe you were tired. Discouraged, maybe. You didn't know. You just didn't have the energy to talk at the moment.

Hyunjin was restless inside though. He couldn't stand the thought of you being down for some reason. But he respected your space, knowing you, you would eventually tell him if something's up. You both rode in silence as he drove you to your home.

Hyunjin parked in front of your driveway. He immediately got out of the car, moving to your side and opening the door for you. You chuckled. "You don't have to do this every time, Jinnie."

"I was just making sure you won't scratch my car." He scoffed.

"Right, of course, you are."

Hyunjin stared at you, and you feel yourself deflate under his intense gaze. "Did something happen at school?" He asked.

You didn't want to admit that what happened earlier bothered you. The thought of Hyunjin with another girl made your skin crawl. Your brain kept telling you to acknowledge your feelings towards Hyunjin, but you just can't, knowing he probably doesn't feel the same. And, of course, you’re worried that you were already burdening Hyunjin. He looked uncomfortable at school earlier.

You shook your head. "How about you?" You asked. "I kinda saw what happened earlier."

Hyunjin groaned. “They were annoying."

“Aigoo~” You chuckled, pulling the headband and letting it go with a snap. "No one seemed to be good enough for you, Jinnie."

Hyunjin rubbed his forehead comfortingly. You. He thought. You'd be more than enough.

"It's getting late." You said, walking away from the car. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jinnie."

"See you, princess." He mumbled, leaning against his car as he watched your figure enter your home.

You stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the wave of skimpy and lavish clothing. You had just finished your classes when Hyunjin picked you up and told you that he was going to race tonight. You instantly agreed when he asked you if you wanted to come and watch. So, there you were, leaning against Hyunjin's car as he met one of the organizers of the race.

Changbin approached you with a playful glint. "Wah, it's been so long since I've seen you in the streets."

"Someone has to be the mature one if anyone of you decided to do something stupid." You teased. "Especially you."

"Especially you~" He mocked, which made you laugh. "But now, you did not only come for me, did you? You came to support Hyunjin."

You hit Changbin in the arm. "Ya, I support all of you."

"Sure you do."

Hyunjin came back after handing his pot money. Changbin man-hugged Hyunjin, wishing him luck before leaving you two alone. "You gonna wish me luck, princess?"

"I didn't know you needed luck." You giggled. "But, do be careful."

"Always am." Hyunjin smiled. He removed his jacket, leaving him in his usual tee that exposes his toned arms. You looked away, trying to hide the flustered look on your face. You were surprised when he draped it around your shoulders. "Wear it for me?"

"Why? You'd get cold." You said.

"Just wear it for me, princess."

You sighed before putting your arms inside the sleeves. "I'll be going now," he said. "Stay with Changbin and the others, yeah?"

You nodded, watching him hop into the driver's seat. You bit your lip when you thought of something that can potentially ruin your friendship with Hyunjin. Would it? You thought. Plucking up the courage, you tapped on Hyunjin's window. He rolled down his window, confused. "What's wrong, princess?"

You gestured for him to come closer. As he did so, you kissed him quickly on the cheek. He stared at you, surprised. A kiss could be platonic, right? You thought of things that could save your friendship. Hyunjin had other thoughts though. Before you could explain, he planted a quick kiss on your lips. This time, you were surprised. Hyunjin simply grinned. "I'll catch you later." He said before driving to the starting line.

You patted your cheeks, trying to shake off the giddy feeling. You weaved through the crowd until you found your friends and your brother near the starting line. You stayed with them until the race is over.

Hyunjin felt restless behind the wheel. He already felt the adrenaline kicking in as he waited for the flagger to start the race. Not only that, the other drivers taunted him earlier, saying they'd ask your friend—you—out after the race. That didn't just make him subtly claim you by making you wear his jacket, it also made him more determined to win the race. However, after the kiss, he already felt like a winner. You meant that romantically, right? Thinking about it excited him. Feeling giddy, he hit the steering wheel repeatedly in excitement.

The flagger raised his arms and the crowd hollered. "Drivers, are you ready?" He yelled. When the drivers gave him an affirmation, he swiped his arms down, signaling the cars to go. The cars zoomed instantly through the night.

You stood between Changbin and Jisung, nervous to the death. It's been so long since you came to events like this. It's like seeing Changbin race for the first time again.

Jisung was cheering Hyunjin's name beside you. Upon seeing your face, he softened. "Hey, relax. Hyunjin's good. One of the best in these streets."

"I know," You said. "I just can't help it."

Changbin chuckled. "You should date him after this."

You hit Changbin again for the second time that night. "Shut up."

"Aigoo, is my sister flustered? Aigoo." He teased.

Slap!

Changbin rubbed his arm in annoyance, finally feeling the burn after a series of your slaps that night.

The crowd went wild as the sound of engines returned. You all saw the cars speeding towards the finish line, Hyunjin's car and a different car leading the race. You all watched in suspense as the two cars alternately surpassed each other by mere inches.

"Oh, I can't look." You said, turning around.

Jisung pulled you. "Ya look!"

You saw Hyunjin's car overtake the other car in a burst, probably using his NOS. The crowd celebrated as Hyunjin sped past the finish line first. You jumped in excitement, hugging Changbin in a tight grip. The crowd surrounded Hyunjin as he went out of his car to receive his win. Your friends bombarded him with whoops and man hugs, while you and Changbin opt to just wait for him behind the buzzing crowd. Hyunjin searched the crowd for your face. You waved from the back, hoping he'd see you. When he did, he waved back, looking euphoric.

Changbin nudged you. "Just go to him." You nodded bashfully. "Don't stay out too late, okay?" He said before leaving, probably going to Chan's to celebrate.

The crowd was already dissipating when you approached him. You were almost at Hyunjin's when you were stopped by a guy you've never met before.

"Hey, I'm Kim." He said. "Have I seen you before? You look really familiar."

"Sorry I don't know you." You replied.

"Well, I think you're really cute. Can I ask for your number?"

"I'm not interested." You turned him down immediately. You sidestepped to get past him but he grabbed your wrist.

"I mean no harm, babe," Kim said. "I just want your number."

"I said no, okay?" You said, trying to pull away from him. "I'm not interested."

Kim was about to reply when a gentle hand touched the part where Kim's hand is gripping yours. It was Hyunjin. "She said no, Kim. Please remove your hand and let her go."

Kim did so but took a taunting step towards Hyunjin. "How about we race for it huh, Hyunjin? You were just lucky tonight."

"She's not a prize." Hyunjin glared. He placed his hand behind your back and ushered you to his car.

You looked at Hyunjin briefly. His mood definitely turned sour despite his win. You slipped your hand in his, hoping to lighten up the mood. "Hey, you dropped your crown, princess. Keep your chin up." You teased.

Hyunjin laughed then smiled at your hands, intertwining them. "Trust me, I'm more than happy tonight."

"Congrats, by the way." You said. “Although, you already knew you were gonna win.“

"Let's celebrate." He said.

"Sure, I think they're at Chan's right now."

He shook his head. "I want it to be just us."

You pondered. "What do you have in mind?"

"You pick, princess." He kissed your hand. "Anything, anywhere, I don't mind."

You blushed at the action. "How about dinner at my place?"

"Sounds great." He said, leading you to his car.

At your place, you cooked ramen. Though you offered to cook something else, Hyunjin wanted something easy and instant. He reasoned that he didn't want to bother you too much, but, actually, he just can't wait to spend more time with you. After eating, you both chose to watch a movie. Although a few minutes in, the movie was already forgotten as Hyunjin won't stop hugging you. You were basically on his lap and he kept nuzzling his nose on your neck.

"Hyunjin," you chuckled. "You're not watching the movie."

Hyunjin mumbled, "Let's just stay like this for a while."

"Okay, but can we clear something between us first?" You said. You grinned as his cute head peeked at you.

You slid off his lap and sat beside him. He faced you with an amused expression. "I just need to know... where our relationship is heading." You mustered.

Hyunjin smiled. "I really want to date you, Y/N. I want you to be my girlfriend." He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Beautiful, he thought.

"Okay then." You said.

"Is that a yes?" Hyunjin came closer, gently touching your cheek, staring at your eyes. "You'd be my girlfriend?"

You nodded meekly and muttered a yes. He held your cheeks before kissing you repeatedly on the forehead. You giggled. Then, you both gazed into each other's eyes, briefly looking at each other's lips.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked gingerly.

To answer his question, you placed your hands on his shoulders and kissed him. He responded almost immediately, his hands resting on your waist and on your cheek. You sighed as your lips slowly molded against each other. You put your hand to the side of his face, momentarily brushing against the headband on his forehead.

You pulled away, giggling to yourself when Hyunjin tried to chase your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, staring intensely at your eyes. Feeling courageous, you pushed Hyunjin until his back was against the couch and you straddled him. He caressed your face, taking in every detail. "Beautiful," he muttered, leaning closer for another kiss.

You kissed again with much more fervor this time. Your bodies were firmly pressed against each other. His hands were clutching your waist, rubbing it up and down. You delicately traced his biceps until finally resting them against his chest. You felt one of his hands slide gently down to your thighs.

It would have been an interesting night if you didn't hear Changbin's car park in the driveway. You pulled away from each other, smiling. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. You giggled, doing the same thing to his hair.

The front door opened, revealing a sleepy Changbin. When he noticed your position, all traces of fatigue vanished. "Ya!" He yelped.

You didn't want to move, but Hyunjin gently placed you beside him, probably trying to get on your brother's good graces.

Changbin rubbed his eyes as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He shrugged. "Keep it PG when I'm here, okay?" He glared at Hyunjin, pointing his finger as if he's saying 'I'll be watching you' before disappearing to his room.

You and Hyunjin just laughed at each other before cuddling on the couch, finally paying attention to the movie.

#hyunjin #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #car mechanic au #street racer au #changbin #jisung #chris bang #hyunjin street racing au #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin #skz scenarios #seo changbin #han jisung #bang chan

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justasparkwritings · 4 years

Text

Exile: My Town

Previous: Five Whole Minutes

Pairing: Timotheé Chalamet x Reader

Genre: Angst, Slice of Life

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: If he was honest with himself, Timothée expected her to cancel. But there she is, on his doorstep.

Exile Master List

The phone had rung hundreds of times over the last six months. The first month, Timothée called her twice a day, every morning and every night. On weekends he called more frequently, drinking his days away, leaving embarrassingly long messages. He declared his love, shared his vision for their future, talked about what he wanted to name their kids and when he thought they’d get married. He described the property in France that he wanted to buy, did she know he had been looking? He detailed how he wanted to continue to go back to Crema for the summer, maybe buy a villa there too, and split summers between the two locations. He wanted their kids to learn French and Italian, he wanted her to learn too. He wanted to wear a paisley suit, or maybe velvet, for their wedding. Their wedding, he had already planned, and wouldn’t it be romantic if it was over three days in their new château?

He became more desperate as the days turned into weeks, which turned into months. On one particular evening, his anger overcame him as he yelled into the receiver about her belongings and their house. What the fuck did she want to do? Did she fucking plan on ever coming back for her clothes? Did she expect him to fucking ship them from their house to wherever the hell she was? And, where was she? Where the fuck was she? Why was she doing this to him? To their life? Why the fuck couldn’t she get over it and come home? Didn’t she realize how much he needed her? Why wouldn’t she just talk to him?

This had been the final straw. He had awoken to find a new folder had been shared with him. He opened it and was confronted with what he had become. She had saved his voicemails, his drunken assaults and languid descriptions of their life. She had kept his sobs, his deepest secrets, his desires. Here they were for him to relive. At the end was a memo he hadn’t recorded, a message from her, telling him the days she would be coming over to pack her belongings and detailing the furniture in the house that she wanted. She didn’t care where he went, but for those three days, he couldn’t be there. She told him to sell the house, she’d take her share of the profits, and if he decided he didn’t want to move, he needed to buy her out.

The cracks deepened. The sorrow became overwhelming. The darkness was everywhere. Despite her best attempts, her jovial personality and excitement at preparing for the baby, Florence was at a loss. She didn’t know how to make him feel better. She didn’t know how to dissuade the guilt she felt at playing a part in their demise.

After six months and one week, Florence had gone into labor. They decided to keep it low key, which is why on a Saturday a month after his daughter’s arrival, he had called her to ask if she would come by and meet his new daughter. He had left it open ended, a few friends stopping by to meet her, no big deal, and maybe could they talk? She had said she would stop by. After seven months, she still hadn’t spoken to him about why she left.

Florence had brought the baby over to get acquainted with Timothée’s home, since she would be spending half her time with him. Tim was excited to have his daughter in his house, instead of staying at Florence’s a few nights a week to take care of her. He recognized that they would need to find a solution until she stopped nursing, and he was more than happy to spend the night, often taking all the night shifts so Florence could sleep. But he wanted his daughter in his house, and he wanted to share his daughter with his love, even if they hadn’t spoken in seven months. She was still his love, his future, wasn’t she?

If he was honest with himself, Timothée expected her to cancel. But there she is, on his doorstep.

“Hi,” She says, holding the gift box tightly in her hands.

“Hi love,” He says, smiling at her. “You look, gorgeous.”

“Don��t,” She says.

She had tried to prepare for this, for being in her house when it was no longer hers. Timothée wasn’t making a move until they had spoken. Why would he sell their house, the house that they had built and let their love blossom in? She couldn’t tell if he loved it because it was theirs, and in his mind, he still thought there was a chance they would get back together, or because he really liked the modern home. The fact that he hadn’t bought her out or moved to sell it both infuriated her and reminded her why she would always love him: sentimentality.

She stands at the threshold, peering in. The memory of picking out the tiles in the entry way and the stain of the hardwood floors cascaded over her. She had insisted on the herringbone pattern, which made the stairs look like a maze of wood grains. Timothée had just looked at her, smiling and saying, “as you wish”. She hadn’t imagined when they’d hung their Christmas photos leading towards the living room, that she’d been on the outside, wondering how long he’d keep them up and when he took them down, would he tell her? What would he do with the framed images when he realized they no longer had a future? Would he keep them up, despite it no longer being a home, but to show his daughter what once lived in this place? Or would he discard it to create something new for his life with his child?

“We’re in the living room,” Timothée steps aside and lets her walk in. She kicks her shoes off and pads softly towards the voices and baby coos.

“You came!” Florence calls, standing up to meet her. “I’m so happy to see you.”

She meets Florence’ enthusiasm and hugs her. Florence had wanted to meet with her at various points in the pregnancy. She wanted to talk with her, try to get her to understand what her having Timothée’s baby meant, but she didn’t budge. She would only see Florence in group settings, and even then, she stayed away. Which is why Florence is so thrilled when she walks into the living room.

“You look amazing! How are you feeling?” She sits on her couch, the one she spent weeks researching, picking patterns, comparing quality of fabrics, before insisting on this one. She hadn’t expected Timothée to change their home, but it was almost worse sitting in it, everything where she left it. He had bought similar items as placeholders for the ones she had taken, his unwillingness to admit that the items weren’t coming back evident in their lesser replacements.

“I’m doing well, really well. Did you bring a gift? You didn’t have to!” Florence says, reaching for the present.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” She hands the box to Florence, who proceeds to open it quickly.

“Oh my god, this is so cute!” Florence calls, taking in the puzzle she’d picked out.

“You know, for when she’s a little older and is playing. I remember my name puzzle from childhood, I always loved it,” She says smiling.

Timothée can feel his heart aching. Of course, she picked a thoughtful, caring gift for his daughter. Of course, even in this challenging situation, she chose to take the high road.

“Well, speaking of, this is Margot,” Florence says, picking up her daughter from the bassinet to the right of the couch. Placing her delicately in her friends’ arms, Florence sits.

She smiles and cradles Margot in her arms. She can feel the tears as they begin to form and wills herself to not let them fall. She has Timothée’s eyes, and enough curly hair to match her father. Her olive skin and delicate features resemble her mother. She’s beautiful.

Moments pass before she realizes she’s staring, unmoving, unspeaking.

“She already loves you,” Timothée says, coming over and sitting next to her on the couch.

“She’s really beautiful,” She says, handing her back to Florence. Silence falls as Margot coos. “Um, I can’t stay long, just wanted to stop by,” she says standing.

“Nonsense, stay for a drink!” Florence says, positioning herself to nurse baby Margot.

“No, I can’t, thank you though, for inviting me,” she quickly hugs Florence and says bye to Margot. She walks swiftly to the foyer and slips her shoes on before he’s grabbing her wrist.

“Don’t go,” Timothée says, grip tightening on her skin.

“I have other plans, can’t cancel,” She says, free hand moving to wipe a stray tear.

“Talk to me, you haven’t spoken to me in seven months, please,” He says.

“Well you’ve done enough for the both of us,” She opens the front door and starts walking down the driveway.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how else to say it, I’m sorry,” He grabs her wrist again in an attempt to turn her around.

“Stop apologizing.” She says, tugging her arm out of his grasp. “Just, stop.”

“Why can’t we talk about this? Why can’t we share in this? I need you; I love you. I know you’re mad at me, I know you’re upset but I’ve been racking my brain for seven months trying to figure out why you can’t handle this. You are my rock; you are my fucking harbor. We have a life together! I need you; I need you,” He says, the crack in his voice giving way to the tears spilling down his cheeks.

“I can’t do this,” She says, voice wavering

“Why the fuck not?” He calls.

“Because! Because Timothée,” She yells, venom in her throat. “This is supposed to be me. This is supposed to be my life. This is the life you promised me.” She tries to inhale through her sob. “I know you need me. I know it’s been a difficult seven months. But this was supposed to be us, it was supposed to be our baby in our house. You and me.”

“I’m sorry, I know, I know we had plans I know, but, she’s my daughter and I can’t change what’s happened with -”

“You don’t fucking get it, Timothée,” She cuts him off.

“What don’t I get? What don’t I understand? I have been trying to understand why you left for months! I keep coming up short. Why would you walk out on us? Why would you abandon me and our dreams? What possib-

“She made you a father,” She gasps as the words tumble out. She pauses, trying to inhale and regain any sense of composure. “Florence gave you a child. She did! No matter what I do, I will always…”

“I-I,” He stumbles, realization washing over him as his body gives way to another round of sobs.

“I will never be able to… my entire life, my life with you … our life … is gone, Timothée. Sell the house, buy the villa in Crema, raise your daughter…” She throws her hands up and inhales abruptly, “This was supposed to be ours.”

She darts into her car and quickly pulls out of the driveway. She doesn’t stop as he falls to his knees. She doesn’t stop as she drives away from the house and the life they shared. He doesn’t stop calling after her, even after his knees hit the concrete, the snot and tears mixing on his tongue as he tries to will her back.

Next: Insult to Injury

#timothee x reader #timothee x you #timothée chamalet #actor RPF #RPF #established relationship #pregnancy #florence pugh #heartache #original #exile #folklore #breaking branches #my town

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jaydicksummerexchange · 4 years

Text

JAYDICK EXCHANGE: SEPTEMBER 3

[ ❤ Works posted so far! ❤ ]

SECOND TO LAST DAY OF THE JAYDICK EXCHANGE!

Why the second to last instead of the last? That’s because we’ve reached 114 Exchange works for 2020! The more treats get added, the more we time we add to our juicy cabooses and keep the exchange train rolling. Until Saturday that is. Tomorrow is the final posting date, and we’ll reveal the wonderful participants on September 5 no matter what.

Here are today’s releases!

Claws by anonymous for solomonara [ART, Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Dick Grayson/ Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: FanartHurt/Comfort, Injured Jason, Secret Identity, dick's teams don't know the red hood's identity, dick's harem of morally ambiguous older men, dick: he's not older, dick: wait i mean he's not my villain boyfriend, dick: damn it

Summary: Dick takes the Red Hood to a Titan safehouse after an injury. Explanations are expected.

Learning To Love The Fall by anonymous for 3isme [ART, Teen, No Warnings Apply, JayDick]

Additional Tags: Fanart, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Mechanic Jason Todd, Plane Pilot Dick Grayson

Summary: It's the early 1900s and the country of Gotham is recovering from a long war.

Trying to get a better life, Jason Todd has been moonlighting as an underground plane mechanic for illegal aeroplane racers, getting a cut of whatever the pilot wins. After one particular competition, he's accused of sabotage and, despite his protests, forced into deeper debt. At the end of his rope, he runs into Dick Grayson, ex-ace of the Gotham Air Force and supposed dead man. The war hero was supposed to have been shot down near the end of the war. Regardless, this pilot is the best chance Jason has to grab hold of that better life, and he's not going to let it go.

The Still and Quiet Surface by anonymous for TheWayneManner [FIC, General Audiences, No Warnings Apply, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Gift Fic, Ficlet

Summary: Dick leaves the sea behind and never looks back.

Scents & Sensibility by anonymous for Nitrojen [FIC, Explicit, No Warnings, JayDick]

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fae, References to Jane Austen, although the writer has a pretty dark secret concerning our dear friend jane, Getting to Know Each Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: Prompt - Something along the lines of the Princess and the Pea. It can be A/B/O, modern, fantasy, or even something that takes place in canon where there's some kind of curse. Have fun with it!

Give It A Shot (of espresso) by anonymous for morimaiter [FIC, Teen, No Warnings, Dick Grayson/ Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Hurt/Comfort, Barista Jason Todd, Flirting, Awkward Flirting, Sexual Tension, JayDick Summer Exchange, very minor injury, art included

Summary: Dick was one of their regulars. And yes, that was his real name. The first time he’d asked Jason to write it on his cup Jason had given him a death glare until the man had whipped out a driver’s license to prove it. ‘Richard John Grayson’, printed right there. It hadn’t been an innuendo after all, just an unfortunate choice of nickname. He came into Gotham Grinders (and hell if Jason hadn’t heard enough innuendos about that name to make up for any lack of innuendo in Dick’s own) every Tuesday and Friday, which happened to always be Jason’s shifts. Every time he asks for some new over-the-top order, and every time without fail he also asks for Jason’s digits. Jason replies every time with:

“I’m sorry sir, we can’t give out personal information to customers. Will that complete your order?”

(Fic + Art)

Lazy Days by anonymous for BehindTheRobinsMask [ART, Teen, No Warnings, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Married Life, Married Couple, Established Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Literal Sleeping Together, Lazy Mornings, Domestic Fluff, Fanart

Summary: It's the weekend! Jason and Dick sleep in after a long night on the streets.

Taken in the Butt by the Gay Vigilante Acro-Bird by anonymous for solomonara [ART, Teen, No Warnings, JayDick]

Additional Tags: Romance Novel, Cover Art, Jason Todd is an Author, Partial Nudity, Birds, Vintage Gay Pulp Novels, Chuck Tingle-Adjacent, Please Forgive me, FanartDigital Art, JayDick Summer Exchange

Summary: The Red Hood has a secret: he's a part-time romance novelist.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea by anonymous for stribird (timidGoddess) [FIC, Mature, No Warnings Apply, Dick Grayson/ Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Heavy Angst, Self-Doubt, Lazarus Pit, Panic Attacks, Established Relationship, Bad Decisions, Romantic Fluff, Amnesia, Broken Promises, Road Trips, On the Run

Summary: Jason couldn’t do that. He could never forget what Dick meant to him. Which is why he had to bring his Bluebird back. Which is why he had to remind Dick of everything that he had lost.

Even if that meant forcing him into the Lazarus Pit. Even if it meant cursing him in the process.

tell your boyfriend, if he says he's got beef, that i'm a vegetarian (and i ain't fucking scared of him) by anonymous for prompt_fills [Mature, No Warnings Apply, Dick Grayson/ Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Protective Damian Wayne, POV Damian Wayne, Batman: Reborn, Jason Todd has a Heart, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Dick Grayson is Damian Wayne’s Parent, Dick Grayson is Batman, Mutual Pining, enemies to idiots to lovers, Misunderstandings, Damian Wayne Plays Therapist, Jason Todd is Bad at Feelings, Dick Grayson is Bad at Feelings, My Continued Mocking of Tim Drake (it's loving i swear), Donna Troy is a goddess and no one deserves her, My love for Donna Troy is so strong that I projected it onto Damian and I am not sorry, Unbetaed we die like Jason Todd refuses to, Past Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, Jealous Jason Todd, Pining Dick Grayson, BAMF Donna Troy AND MORE

Summary: It had taken a few weeks for Damian’s ill-fated hopes for the more platonic explanation of Grayson’s unseemly conduct regarding Todd to expire because Damian (unlike Drake) is not an idiot (and Brown had prattled on about every instance of very clearly not platonically fueled tension, slowly crushing Damian’s remaining hopes for Richard’s taste in romantic partners). Denial, heavenly as he has now known it to be, can only take one so far. And as a pragmatist and the grandson of the great Ra’s al Ghul and son of the great Bruce Wayne, he assesses the situation from a logical perspective, free of any emotions clouding his impeccable judgment, and comes up with a solution that benefits both himself and Grayson.

Jason Todd must die.

Or the story of how Damian Wayne became the number one shipper of JayDick and is not at all happy about it.

Si solo fueras tú by anonymous for fallogory [ART, Gen, Creator Chose No Warnings, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fanart, Kid Dick Grayson, Adult Dick Grayson, Kid Jason Todd, Adult Jason Todd, King Bruce Wayne, Prince Damian Wayne, Prince Dick Grayson, Poor Jason Todd, Hurt Dick Grayson, Jealous Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug

Summary: Blue came first

Then Green arrives

Then Blue meet Red

And Green hate that

Or where Dick was Bruce's bastard child who was forced to lived like a prince until Damian's born and meet someone who make his world be upside down.

the smell of cold stone by anonymous for abcission [FIC, Mature, No Warnings Apply, Dick Grayson/ Jason Todd]

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Dick Grayson, Autumn, American Football, College Football, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Getting to Know Each Other, Getting Together, referenced Jason/Kyle, Past Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Past Dick Grayson/Roy Harper, past dick grayson/wally west - Freeform, implied Roy/Kory, implied Roy/Wally, implied Donna/Kyle, future besties Jason and Roy, Roy's eternal crush on Donna, frat boy Dick, Fluff

Summary: Their eyes meet on the quad one day; he’ll probably never see the frat boy again, but he’ll be nice fodder for Jason’s dreams at least.

#2020 jaydick exchange #dcu fanfic #jaydick summertime blues.#jaydick #dickjay #dick grayson & jason todd

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teacupfulofstarshine · 4 years

Text

when you look at me with those eyes (i’m speechless)

summary: virgil finally manages to ask out the pretty enby in his class, just in time for his father's epic gala event. sadly, neither of them would know fashion if it bit them in the ass. luckily, they both have friends to help them out.

(OR: almost 3k words of analogical being useless fluffy gays)

wordcount: 2934

ships: romantic analogical, background romantic roceit, background queerplatonic intruality, background romantic remile

cw: cursing

read it on ao3!!

“So, uh, wh - what do you say?”

Logan looks up from their desk, homework long forgotten. Their left hand is stretched out to cover the little doodle they’d been doing of the back of Virgil’s head, and now Virgil himself is standing in front of them, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly and looking anywhere except at Logan. He’s still wearing that patchwork purple plaid hoodie, and for some reason the only thing Logan can think of is that it’s definitely a violation of their school uniform.

Virgil’s eyes skitter back to their face, skipping from their shoulder to their chest to their neck to their cheek. Their eyes meet for a moment, Virgil’s illuminated by the afternoon sunshine pouring in, and Logan forgets how to breathe. Virgil’s pink face gets even pinker, and his eyes settle on a point fixed above Logan’s shoulder.

“Are you just gonna stare at me?” he snaps. “If you’re gonna reject me, just -”

“No!” Logan blurts. Virgil’s shoulders jump up to his ears, and Logan stands so fast their chair falls over behind them. “I - I mean - I’m not rejecting you, I - um - yes! Yes, I - I’d love to! That is to say - I - uh -”

Virgil laughs a little, reaching out and tucking a stray curl of Logan’s hair behind their ear. They hadn’t even noticed that wisps had started escaping their high ponytail, but Virgil just smiles at them. “Cool,” he says.

“Yes,” Logan breathes. “It - it is, objectively, quite ‘cool’.”

“The event’s on Saturday night.�� Virgil’s fingers tuck their hair behind their ear, gently tracing down the curve of their neck and sliding up to touch their jaw. “Pick you up around six PM or so?”

Logan swallows, and they’re sure Virgil can hear it but he gives no indication if he did. “That - that sounds optimal.” They cringe inwardly - optimal? What the hell? - but Virgil just laughs and slides his hand up to cup their cheek.

“You keep busting out all those smart-person words and I’m gonna have to kiss you before I buy you dinner, and that’s not very nice of me.” His hand drops from Logan’s face, and it takes all their willpower not to scream for him to put it back. He gently picks up their hand, lifting it to his bitten-raw lips and gently pressing a kiss to the back. “That’ll have to hold you over until then.”

He turns and saunters away, and Logan grips the edge of their desk. They almost sit down on the chair they’d knocked over, catching themselves at the last second. Looking around the empty classroom, they catch sight of themselves reflected in the windows. They’d opted for a mixture of the uniforms today, wearing the boys’ shirt, vest, and tie over the girls’ skirt, knee-high stockings, and shoes. Their hair is tightly tied back with a plain hair tie, no ribbon, only one curl out of place where Virgil had tucked it behind their ear.

They don’t typically dress themselves for much other than school (uniform), work (uniform), or home (casual clothing). They have no idea what they should wear for a date. Their phone buzzes on the desk, and they snatch it up quickly, flipping it open to see a message from Virgil.

(They’d forgotten he had their number, from that project they did together last month.)

You have: One! New message!

FROM: Virgil

hey, forgot to tell u - this gala is like, a bfd for my dads’ company, so dress up! like its prom or smthn, or a wedding

Logan exhales, gathering up their school things and shoving them into their bag with an uncharacteristic haphazardness. This is going to require . . . outside intervention.

(Meanwhile, a few doors down, Virgil slams the door to his own classroom, shoves his face into his hands, and lets out the quietest feral screech he can manage. Derek, seated on the teacher’s desk with Roman pulled up between his legs, raises a single eyebrow.

“Is that a screech of success or a screech of failure, Virgil?”)

*~*~*~*~*

“What does one wear on a ‘fancy date’? I have never been to a wedding or a prom, let alone a gala! I do not own anything fancy!” Logan paces around their bedroom, hair hanging loose around their shoulders. Patton is on his back, hanging upside-down off of their bed and flipping through some sort of guitar catalog. Remus is curled up in Logan’s desk chair with some sort of slime in his hand. “Remus, if you get slime on my belongings I will end you.”

Remus grins, looking deranged, and Logan resists the childish urge to throw something at him.

“Don’t sweat it, Lo-Lo!” Patton says. “I’ve got a ton of pretty clothes in my room, you can borrow something from me! We’re still the same size, right?”

“I assume so,” Logan says, “but what if I do not look right in your clothing? Our styles are vastly different, I would not wish to present a false impression of myself to him, I -”

“You worry too much!” Remus says. “Virge asked you out even though you’re a workaholic disaster who wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘relax’ if it bit him in the -”

“Remus!” Patton scolds, throwing one of Logan’s decorative constellation pillows at him. Remus bats it away with his foot.

“Please do not throw things around,” Logan says tiredly. “Particularly my things.”

“Sorry, Lo!” Remus does not apologize, but he does put the slime he’s been playing with back into its little plastic container.

“Well, actually,” Patton says, flipping over onto his tummy, “it just so happens that I’ve been waiting for exactly this moment.” Logan looks at their twin in confusion. “I knew that eventually, there was gonna come a day where you would look at somebody and want to go on a date with them, whether it be a simple movie or a fancy date like this one, and you were gonna call me in here - didn’t know Remus would be here too, but he’s not unwelcome -”

“Thank you?”

“- and you’d pace around and panic and go, ‘Patton! I don’t have anything optimal for this date, and our personal styles are so vastly different! What ever is there to be done?’” Patton flings one hand dramatically across his forehead like a Victorian woman fainting onto a couch. Logan raises one eyebrow.

“So! I came up with the perfect solution! I’ve been secretly acquiring outfits for you! Stuff that you could wear for a variety of situations that you wouldn’t ever think of! We can mix and match to find something you like! Oh, and I also have a ton of unopened hypoallergenic makeup in a box in my closet!”

Logan stares at him, blinking and trying to process everything Patton’s just told them. “You . .. you really did all that, for . . . for me?”

“Yeah, of course I did! You’re my twin, Lo. I love you.” Patton smiles, bright and open and honest, and Logan blinks again, and suddenly their cheeks are wet.

“Are you fucking crying because Patton is a considerate brother?!” Remus cackles. Logan whirls around, hiding their face and wiping at it frantically. “Oh my god, you are, I fucking called it, Roman owes me twenty bucks!”

“You bet on this?” Patton asks, disapproving. Logan laughs a little, turning around to hug their twin. They can’t quite bring themselves to care about Remus’s gambling right now.

*~*~*~*~*

“Why are you bitching?” Roman asks, pulling Derek’s hand up to his face. He’d forgotten his saline solution at his own house, so he’s wearing his old red glasses, bangs pulled up in a shitty unicorn-horn ponytail as he squints at Derek’s nails. Derek holds a book up with his free hand. “You managed to get them to go out with you, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but I was awkward as fuck about it, Roman!” Virgil complains. He considers throwing something at Roman, or shoving a pillow over his face and screaming (again), but the deep indigo-purple polish on their fingernails is still drying. “I touched their hair, they probably think I’m a fucking creep!”

“As someone with that exact reputation,” Derek says, “I highly doubt they would have agreed to accompany you on a date if they shared your sentiments about yourself.”

“Yeah, but -”

“Lighten up a little, man,” Roman says, carefully stroking the yellow brush over Derek’s index nail. “You’re totally fucking with the vibe of the chill session.”

“What do you want me to do?! I told them to dress fancy cause we’re going somewhere nice, like I have any idea how to dress other than ‘crawled out of a dumpster and sewed together some punk band’s leftovers’!”

“Why did you think you invited me?” Roman says haughtily. He’s imitating some YouTube video they’d watched earlier. “I’m the king of style!”

“You’re the king of something,” Virgil mutters.

“No, seriously, I’m gonna help you!” Roman says. “I’m sure you have something that looks half-decent buried in your closet, and I am nothing if not an expert in bringing things out of the closet.” Derek’s cheeks blush faintly pink, but he doesn’t say anything. “And Der here is amazing with makeup -”

“I wouldn’t say experience with stage makeup and covering my port wine stain makes me amazing or anything,” Derek begins.

“Well I would, so shut the fuck up,” Roman says smoothly. Derek rolls his eyes and huffs fondly. “Seriously, Vee, did you really think we were gonna egg you on to ask the pretty nerd out for this long and then leave you high and dry when the time came to deliver the goods?”

Virgil exhales, bringing his hands up to his face to examine his nails. “I think they’re dry . . .”

“Nice! Get over here, once I’m done with Derek’s base color I’m putting sparkles on you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s my house and I get to choose the bonding activity, god damn it.”

*~*~*~*~*

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Logan says, pulling their hair up into their traditional high ponytail. “What else am I supposed to do with it? I hate leaving it down, it feels bad on my neck -”

“I know,” Patton says, “but you can’t just put it in the same old ponytail you always do! This is a fancy gala event, you have to be fancy! ”

“What else am I supposed to do with my hair?”

“You will not do anything. I will do your hair,” Patton says firmly. “And by I, I mean Remus, because I’m not good at hair.”

“Remus is not putting his hands, which have been god only knows where, in my clean hair.”

“Rude!” Remus says. “I washed them three times today! You can inspect them if you want, I promise they’re clean!” Logan squints at his hands critically before sighing and settling into the chair in front of Patton’s vanity.

“Very well.”

Remus brushes through their hair and then combs it, carefully working through the knots while doing his best to preserve their natural curl. He separates two small wings and pins them out of the way before pulling the rest of Logan’s long curls into a mid-height ponytail and braiding it with surprisingly delicate fingers. He carefully twists the long braid up into a bun at the nape of Logan’s neck and pins it there with a gleaming silver hairpin tipped with a shining eight-point star with a dark blue jewel set in its center.

Carefully, Remus unpins the locks of hair he’d set aside and braids them as well, weaving them into a crown of braids on Logan’s head and cleverly hiding the ends by pinning them into the braided bun. Finally, he pins back a few stray wispy curls with silver bobby pins that have star-shaped cubic zirconium on the ends. “Take a look!”

Logan has had their eyes closed the entire time, quietly stimming with their hands. They open them slowly, looking in the mirror and tilting their head back and forth to see all of the work Remus has done. “Oh,” they say softly. “I love it, Remus. I look beautiful.”

“You always look beautiful,” Remus says. “I’d ruffle your hair if I hadn’t spent so much time making it look decent.” Logan leans back, gently pressing their cheek against his shoulder. Remus huffs and mutters something about “gross affectionate shit,” but he still lets them do it.

Patton breaks out the makeup after that, spinning the stool around so that Logan can’t see their own face in the mirror. “Alright, Lo! Time to accentuate your pretty face!”

“That was a surprisingly accurate use of the word accentuate.”

Patton just shrugs and grins at them. “I know big words!”

*~*~*~*~*

“You look fine,” Roman says, pulling a strip of fabric around Virgil’s throat and beginning to knot it into a bowtie. Virgil can’t stop himself from looking over himself in the mirror one more time - dark black dress pants, a silver dress shirt, a deep purple vest that matches the polish on his nails, black and purple eyeshadow accompanied by dark red lipstick and sharp cheekbone contour courtesy of Derek. Roman pulls the purple-and-silver striped fabric of his bowtie into the final bow, and he smiles.

“Don’t worry, Virge. I know you’re worried, but you look fine.”

“You don’t look like a vampire at all,” Derek adds. Virgil hisses at him. “That is certainly going to help that image.”

“Seriously,” Roman says, “don’t worry about my stupid boyfriend. Logan agreed to go out with you, and I’m sure they’re going to find you absolutely stunning.”

Virgil rubs the back of his neck, blushing, because he knows that if he touches the hair Derek and Roman had combed and gelled and styled and wrestled with for the past thirty minutes they will collectively murder him without a second thought. Derek smiles, reaching over to pat his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Vee. Seriously. I know I mock you a lot, but you really do look good. It’s gonna be okay.”

Virgil still feels nervous when he steps out of his car in front of the address Logan had given him. The lights are bright and cheerful, and when he knocks on the front door with his free hand, the door swings open eagerly. “Hello!” the man says cheerily. He’s wearing a pink tie and a brown cardigan, and he looks like Virgil expects Patton to in a few decades. “You must be Virgil!”

“Uh, um, y-yes sir!” Virgil yelps.

“Oh, you look precious! Remy, dearest, Logan’s date is here!”

“Cool, babes,” a voice floats in from the kitchen. “I’ll take over the soup.”

“Come on in! You can call me Emile, Lo is upstairs with Patton and Remus getting ready! Just wait here in the foyer, I’ll go up there and get them!” Emile hurries off up the stairs, and Virgil fidgets nervously with the flowers in his hand.

Patton all but slides down the bannister, grinning. “Are those for Lo?”

“Y - yeah?”

“I’ll go get a vase out of the kitchen so they can put them in water before you two go!” Virgil pulls a single star-shaped lily bloom from the bouquet and spins it between his thumb and middle fingers. Emile comes hurrying down the stairs with a camera, sets himself up at the foot of the stairs, and shouts for Remus.

“Finally,” Logan huffs, and then a door creaks open and shuffled footsteps approach the top of the stairs and then Virgil promptly forgets how to breathe.

They look gorgeous.

They have a crown of braids leading to a braided bun, studded with jewels that gleam like stars and a larger star pinning the bun back. They’re wearing the most beautiful dress Virgil has ever seen; the top is black, high-necked, and form-fitting, with short sleeves that are see-through ruffles of black gauzy material. The sleeves and the bodice are covered in sparkling silver rhinestones that look like stars in the night sky. There’s a silver band wrapped around their waist, and the skirt is made of layers of loose folds of fabric. The front comes down to their knees and the back comes down to their mid-calves, and the pattern is a soft blue-pink-purple galaxy color scheme. They have simple dark blue ballet flats on their feet, and as they get closer, what little breath Virgil had in his lungs is gone.

Someone with experience has clearly done Logan’s makeup. Their eyes are coated in shimmery dark-blue-and-silver eyeshadow, eyes lined with soft smudged pencil and popping out of their face, freckles somehow still visible under the makeup. Their lips are glossy and pink and look so deliciously kissable that Virgil can barely restrain himself.

“You look wonderful,” the vision in front of him says.

“You - I - um - good!” Virgil stammers. Logan blushes, and Virgil thrusts the bouquet at them. “These - for you!”

“Oh!” Logan takes the bouquet and smiles, and Virgil nearly passes out. “They’re beautiful! I -”

“I have a vase for you!” Patton chirps, hurrying in to take the bouquet and plop it into a vase. “I’ll leave it in your room!” Logan smiles, and Virgil reaches up to carefully tuck the lily behind their ear, into the carefully woven braids.

“You look beautiful,” he says honestly. “You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life.” Logan flushes, smiling.

“It makes sense that you would think that, since you cannot see yourself.”

(Years later, at their wedding, Patton will tearfully and proudly recall how Logan and Virgil had been fifteen minutes late to the gala because Logan’s compliment had caused Virgil to faint from sheer gay joy.)

#starshinewrites #romantic analogical #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #background romantic roceit #background romantic remile #background queerplatonic intruality #ts logan #ts virgil #ts remus #ts deceit #ts patton #ts roman

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-One [PT. 2]

Words: 2.5K

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of domestic abuse

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"Your little one is here as of right now." Dr. Telille says, pointing to a very little area to the far side of my womb and I smile before she switches the focus slightly and then looks at the screen with a slightly odd look before flipping through my chart. "At your previous Obstetrician, did they mention any abnormalities?" She asks me.

"No." I shake my head.

"You said in your history you've had recurrent miscarriages?" She asks next.

"Yes."

"Okay, Mrs. Sixx, don't be alarmed by this because there is a solution but this," she turns the screen to me again, pointing at a shadow in the picture that looks like it's creating bunny ears or something. "Is a layer of tissue that's not supposed to be there. It halts fetal growth, and ultimately causes miscarriages, often times even before a fetus is interacting with the tissue itself, physically." She informs me and I feel like my chest is throbbing from how hard my heart is beating. "The good news is that we can fix this, I've had to do a few surgeries like this before--we can go in and cut that tissue out without disturbing your baby, but we will need to have it done within the next week--two weeks at the most." She explains and I raise my brows.

"What's my chance of carrying out my pregnancy to term without the surgery?" I ask, trying to stay calm.

"With a successful surgery, there is a 80% chance of you carrying it to term, and a higher chance at not facing as many pregnancy difficulties in the future like you've had previously. Without the surgery, with your history, it's very, very probable that you won't get to four months without miscarrying--if that far." She adds.

"What's the risk of this surgery causing complications?" I ask next.

"30%." She replies and I breathe out. "You don't have to make a decision today, you can go home and think about it and talk about it with the father but we need to get it scheduled in the next few days."

"Um, o-okay…" I rub my lips together.

"And if you are interested in the surgery, we can go ahead and send it in and see if insurance will cover it." She assures me.

"I don't have maternity insurance right now." I tell her and she looks at me uneasily.

"No worries, we can figure the costs out after you decide if you want it or not." She tells me, calmly, and I just nod.

I numbed myself. I would've been freaking out, having a meltdown, begging God to spare my damn baby for once...but as soon as she started in on what was wrong with me, the negative outcomes...I flicked the switch in my brain and just let myself feel absolutely nothing as best as I could. My nervousness was relief compared to blatant breakdown mode that I knew would hit inevitably.

And how the hell did I tell Duff and Nikki that I was going to need surgery that could potentially terminate my pregnancy--or suffer what I'd suffered before and still lose a baby? Oh, right. I didn't. At least, not as soon as I probably should have.

When I get to my new little house I'm renting with my savings, Duff's sitting on the little porch, drinking a beer.

"How'd it go?" He asks me, standing up as I unlock the door.

He couldn't go with me this time because he had to go look at a couple houses with Mandy, which I understand because they had already canceled once with a real-estate agent and would get charged extra if they missed another appointment.

"Good." I lie, clearing my throat.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Whisky's barking at us until he realizes it's me, and then he won't get out from under my feet until I pat him on the head.

"I need to finish unpacking." I say before Duff can ask anymore questions.

"Well, it's your lucky day because I know how to unpack." He states, grinning.

I go change into pajamas and when I get back, he's pulling pictures from one of the boxes, neatly placing them on the coffee table in the living room and I pick them up and start figuring out where to put them.

"So, my family really wants me to bring you up." He says, optimistically. "I was thinking leave Sunday and come back next Saturday."

"...Duff, I can't just up and leave right now. I have to finish unpacking, and I'm gonna be meeting with Nikki once a week and then him and the guys once a week so that's two different…" I trail off as he cuts open another one of my packed boxes with his pocket knife, a look of disappointment on his face. "...It's not that I don't want to, you know. I just have a lot going on right now."

"We'd just be gone for a week." He says, looking at me. "It's the only time off I have for a while since we're doing a few shows in New York and Europe." He adds. "And I really want my family to know you, kinda, before you have the baby."

"I don't know." I hesitantly tell him and he licks his lips. "I don't know, Duff, okay? I just...ughhh." I groan, raking my hands through my hair.

"If you don't want to meet my family then don't worry about it, Vivian." He says it a little passive aggressively and I raise my brows.

"'Vivian'? Since when the hell am I 'Vivian'?" I ask, mimicking his tone.

"That's your name isn't it?" He asks next and I cross my arms.

"You usually call me 'Viv', or...something…"

"Well, I'm not calling you, 'babe,' or, 'baby,' since we aren't dating anymore so…"

"You're being a dick."

"I'm not being a dick. I'm just family oriented and I want my family to know you and our kid and you're making up excuses to not go and meet them."

"Excuse me for not wanting to be judged." I snap back.

"They're not fucking judgemental."

"Oh, so you're cussing at me now, too, huh?"

"Quit trying to start an argument." He tells me.

"I'm not starting an argument, I'm making a valid point."

"You're making an assumption." He corrects me. "My family isn't judgemental. They're really not. I don't even think they're worried with the fact that you were married when we got together because they haven't said a word about it. They just want to meet you."

"Matt didn't seem so cool about it." I mumble.

"Matt was trying to keep both of us out of trouble." He explains. "He wasn't judging you. He just doesn't like drama and if we would've gotten caught he knew it'd just be a bunch of bullshit we'd have to get thrown at us."

I just stare at him.

"And I'm sorry for cussing at you, but I'm trying to be positive about all of this and I really don't want you to start bringing in your negativity." He exhales.

"My negativity?" I raise my brows, laughing humorlessly.

"Please, just come to Seattle with me next Sunday. I promise it'll be fun and my family's fun, they don't mean any harm by wanting you to come up and visit--they're already talking about planning a trip when it's born to be here for you and me both for a few days." He adds.

I think about it, seeing his eyes glint a little as he slowly smiles at me like a hopeful puppy.

"Okay." I relent and he puts his hands above his head, folding them together, letting out a loud, "Hallelujah!" and I roll my eyes, trying to hold back a chuckle.

The truth is, I don't want to leave Nikki stewing that long after revealing to him my miscarriages. He never came back when he left the therapy session yesterday, and I was supposed to go back today but decided I needed another day to just think about everything, but because of Amber's schedule, we won't be able to get back in the same room together--aside from me just visiting him--until next Wednesday...but with Duff wanting to leave Sunday and come back that Saturday, I won't be able to meet then, either. A part of me isn't even sorry that I won't make it since the morale of Nikki's story is that he married a maestro of manipulation that can play victim like no other but is really an evil bitch who loves to make people suffer.

I gathered that after reading:

"I married a fucking demon."

"Vivian climbed from hell just to neuter me."

"My wife's a fucking lunatic."

"I sometimes think Vivian's waiting for me to die so she can get the money."

"I hate her."

"I don't know what's killing me faster: my looney wife, or smack. Doesn't matter--they're both my drug of choice."

"If she didn't know how to fuck I would've already left her."

"She flushed every bit of what Jason dropped off last night. Cost me a couple grand. I'm so pissed, if I knew she wouldn't beat the shit out of me and go batshit-ballistic, I'd lay her out on the fucking floor. I'm sure it'd be like foreplay in her sick mind, anyway."

"I swear she cums every time she belittles me."

And, my personal favorite:

"Just woke up from a fucking nightmare. I was fucking around with Vivian and Vanity and once they got their satisfaction they started eating me alive while talking about their love for God. Even with them gnawing on me alive with their shark-like teeth and their completely black eyes, stripping flesh from my bone and going at it like a fucking pork chop, I was turned on. But as soon as they started about God, how good and wonderful he was, that's when I started panicking a little that I OD'd without realizing it and was in hell or some fucking incarnation of it. I see now that's how they both got me, being hot and knowing exactly what to do to get me going. And now they're both sucking the life out of me, eating me alive, while praying to their God and acting like they're blameless in my destruction. CHICKS = TROUBLE."

At least we both agree that we married demons.

It was strange for me to realize how he saw me--well, how Sikki saw me. Once I was able to differentiate between the two of them, it hurt less reading what he'd write about me. It was just confusing.

One page would be an entire rant (with unflattering, random song lyrics to match) about something I did that pissed him off--sometimes things I wouldn't even realize I did to make him upset and then the next page would be decently positive things about me that he'd profess after waking up sort of sober…

I knew he felt guilty about how he treated me, most of the entries from the end of '83 to '87 had "I'm an asshole" or "I really fucked up" or some version of it in them but the deeper into '87 he got, the less and less apologetic he got. Both in real time and his dairies.

Despite the black and white of his diaries, one thing still lingered in the grey area…

I stare at the little TV on my dresser, bowl of captain crunch in hand as I stuff my face while flipping channels, Whisky gnawing on his chew toy as a flickering, fuzzy and static blaring familiar face flashes across the screen as I turn to the next channel. My heart stops for a moment, my finger immediately going back, the screen and audio clearing as I see her.

Clear eyed and competent. A far removal from what I last saw of her with her gnashing teeth and tortured eyes, spewing at Nikki and I both before he and her got into a fight that left her dragged down the stairs of our old house...guilt tugs at me, remembering the look on her face, the pain, the hurt...perhaps she felt as bad as I did about the situation.

He was the one telling her he was going to leave me and marry her, after all. My feury swallowed him before it ever thought about swallowing her.

"...I'm currently looking at other scripts for other films." She replies very calm and composed to whatever question her interviewer was asking...I'm assuming this is part of her press run for her new movie coming out.

"If you could write a ticket for yourself, Vanity, what would it be?" The woman asks next and she furrows her brows, slightly.

"Write a ticket? To go somewhere?"

"No, write a ticket for the rest of your life, and your career. Just everything about your life." She explains.

"Ohhh," She thinks a moment before shaking her head slightly. "I wouldn't want to do that, actually, because, um, everytime I turn around something new's happening. I'm a very spontaneous person. I just like to get up and go, and I've been doing that since I was fifteen...so, um, I couldn't say I'd like to write that ticket." She chuckles a little, but not the crack-cackle I was used to seeing in her past interviews.

She's actually sober here.

"I just wanna go wherever life takes me." She continues.

"What you're saying then, is, you couldn't write a ticket because what you would write wouldn't be as good as what could happen?"

"No, I don't--"

"--No?"

"No, I don't think that, I'm not saying that at all. I feel that I have certain goals in my life. Very big, big, dreams that I set for myself. But I wouldn't wanna, um, question God's way about where he's going with me." She states. "That's just...not me."

"If you could go back and change anything--"

"--Nothing." Vanity says, biting her lip nervously, shaking her head.

"Any of the decisions?"

"Nothing."

"Wouldn't change a thing?"

"Nothing." She buckles down on it and I feel my eyes gloss over. "Wouldn't change a thing…" she trails off, thinking for a second. "...Can't say that I would." She adds, softly. "Because each time that I've done something, whether it be a mistake in my life, it's always...what you might call a mistake in my life is never a mistake to me. It was a definite meant to be and it was a definite learning process. So all the pain and all the glory...I wouldn't change a thing."

She's so unapologetically sincere.

I cut the TV off as they start closing out the interview, and toss the remote across the room, losing my appetite and putting my bowl on my nightstand before I allow myself to replay what she just said.

And I cry, not because she was in a relationship with him, not because she tried to steal him from me...I cry because I regret everything. I regret marrying Nikki. I regret meeting Duff. I regret getting pegnant.

I'm not angry at her.

I envy her.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

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anemonenemerosa · 4 years

Note

Oops sorry!! I just assumed with oknutzy! Maybe 17 for Wolfstar 🥰

No worries, anon! Since your request was already written by @mooncat457writing (read it, it’s sooo good) and no other prompt of the list was simliar, I thought of a new one and wrote something for you. I hope you ike it!

"The door fell shut behind me while getting the mail. Now I'm stuck outside on a windy October day"

The bright side of locking yourself out

It was 1 pm when the insistent ringing of the doorbell jerked Sirius out of his dreams. He grumbled for a few moments before his brain caught up and reminded him that he'd ordered a replacement for the broken gear-belt of his motorcycle. And Sirius really needed to get the bike repaired 'cause taking the tube to and from work was just the worst. So, he jumped out of bed and raced to the door of the building – there's no way he's missing the mailperson! Tough luck, Sirius was just in time to see the backlights of the delivery-truck disappear behind a corner.

"God, damnit!" He cursed loudly, mentally just warming up for a full-on rant when a particularly forceful wind-gust shoved half a ton of leaves in Sirius' face and caused an unfortunate bang behind his back.

No. Please no. Slowly, as if keeping off looking might undo what the dreadful noise promised, Sirius turned around, finally staring at the firmly closed door. It is just now that he realised that he's not only stuck outside on a rather unpleasant mid-October day, no, he's stuck outside barefoot, only wearing his pyjama bottoms and a worn shirt. No phone, no keys. It began to rain, no umbrella. What. A. Day.

Just two months ago, Sirius still lived with James and that wouldn't have been much of a problem. Back in the day, James was still writing his final assignment for his degree and stayed at home all the time.But since he graduated, found himself a paying job and moved in with Lily, Sirius lives alone for the very first time in his 25 years on this planet. And while he loved Lily dearly, Sirius couldn't always stop himself from feeling a bit abandoned and lonely, which was ridiculous, of course. Since they got together, James and Lily never let any doubt creep in that Sirius was anything but loved and treasured by both of them.

But the sentiment was of no use just then. In that moment, he needed to find a pragmatic solution. What does one do, trapped outside with no phone, no keys and no shoes? Sirius sighed in resignation. One does walk to the next cafe, beg them to use their phone without coming off as a complete nutter and call James to rescue him.

About five steps from the door, Sirius stopped dead in his tracks, quest forgotten. Walking right up to him was his neighbour from upstairs, the most intriguing person Sirius has ever met, or almost met, seen that they had never talked before.

The guy seemed very unassuming the few times he saw him in the stairway with his knit sweaters and washed out jeans. He was very quiet in the mornings as if he unknowingly considered that Sirius, as a bartender, worked during the nights and really needed his mornings to sleep. During the afternoon however, enjoyable music wafted down through Sirius' open windows together with the delicious smell of freshly cooked food.

The neighbour -Lupin, it said on the mailbox- stared at Sirius with wide eyes for a moment before he stepped closer, holding his umbrella over both of them.

"Erm." The other man said instead of greeting him.

"Please don't ask." Sirius implored him, completely done with this day already. But then again, Lupin had a nice voice.

"Right", Lupin laughed, "You live in the basement, right? Black? I'm going to ask anyway... aren't you cold?"

Not what Sirius expected to be asked. Naturally, his response was eloquent, he was absolutely not caught off guard, "Uhh -yeah, I live here. And- and I'm cold... but I thought you were-"

"-going to ask why you are out here?" Lupin laughed again, a really nice sound, "You clearly locked yourself out. No one goes around in the rain in October like this. Want to come in to mine? Dry off and call someone?"

With that he looked pointedly at Sirius, who took the glance as a clue to have a look at himself. So, summed up, he was drenched, with dirty feet and unkempt hair. Not the first impression he wanted to make on his neighbour. He's a proper adult now. Anyhow, this was by far his best option "That would actually safe my day."

Without another word, Sirius was led upstairs, offered a warm shower and some soft clothes, which were a bit too big for him (Lupin was at least half a head taller than himself). Clean and dry, Sirius sits in Lupin's little kitchen for his next task: calling James, who couldn't leave work for another three hours, meant that Sirius either waited for another four hours or paid 600 pounds for key-service to open his door, which he found out in the next call. He got a string of curses off his chest and was met with an astounded look of Lupin, who had poked his head though the door. Today, Sirius was impressively good at presenting himself at his worst.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, not looking at his generous neighbour.

"Nah it's fine." Said one just shrugged, "What did your friend say?"

"Another four hours or 600 pounds." Sirius supplied, feeling a little miserable.

"Oh, unfortunate. Do you want to wait here? I have some work to do but you can hang out if you want."

"No, thank you. That would be too much" It really would.

"No. Really, it's no bother. I wouldn't offer if it wasn't alright." Lupin waved him off, "I'm Remus, by the way. And before you ask: Yes, Remus like in the Roman mythology"

"Nice to officially meet you, Remus, like in the Roman mythology." Sirius bowed mockingly, "I'm Sirius, and before you ask, yes, like the star and yes, I've probably heard all of the serious-jokes in existence by now."

With introductions out of the way, Sirius was sat on the big and comfortable couch in the living room with a nice cup of milky tea. He had no idea what to do now and felt a bit awkward, but his neighbour seemed unbothered by his surprise-guest.

"Sorry to be such a bad host but I have a bit work to do, I didn't get to do last night. If you like, feel free to take whatever book sparks your interest from the shelves." Remus apologised and put on some quiet music over his phone while settling in a cosy armchair across the couch with a stack of papers on his lap. It was only then, that Sirius realised how good-looking Remus was. His hair, light brown, wavy and a bit shaggy was falling slightly into his bright hazel eyes, focused on the papers in front of him. Suddenly, Remus huffed, scrunched up his slightly crooked nose (dusted with freckles that spread over his cheekbones) and lifted his left hand to his thin-lipped mouth to gnaw at his thumbnail.

"Displeasing literature?" Sirius heard himself asking before he could check the question in his mind for stupidity.

"You have no idea." the other man grumbled, "That one actually wrote that the inhabitants of Egypt are the mummies!"

Sirius couldn't help but bark a laugh at the affronted tone of Remus' voice,

"So, you're teaching history?"

"Yeah." Remus sighed and plucked a red pen from the little table beside him and began vigorously scribbling onto the paper.

The conversation felt to be over for now as Sirius' host seemed, indeed, quite busy. So, Sirius took up the offer to have a look at the bookshelves lining three walls of the room. The carped felt warm and soft under his bare feet while he strolled along the shelves. Quickly he recognised several of his favourites among the countless books and when his eye caught on The Little Prince, he couldn't resist to take it with him back to the couch.

When he was settled again, Remus looked up to see what Sirius had picked and smiled around a soft hum "I've read so many books and this is still one of my favourites."

Sirius couldn't help but smile back. "Mine, too."

From then on, they sat in a far more comfortable silence than before, both engulfed in their literature. Now and then, Remus huffed or snorted and shared some of the more entertaining mishaps of his students. It felt like they've been spending their afternoons together like this for years. Sirius was simultaneously at peace and properly creeped out.

After a while. Remus got up and returned with a fresh cup of tea for both of them. Steeped for exactly long enough, with the perfect amount of milk in it.

"It's wild that I've been living here for a little over two months and we barely even saw each other, isn't it?" Sirius commented, cradling his new cup in his hands while Remus got once again comfortable in his armchair.

"No, not really." The other man supplied with a slightly sad smile, "See, I teach evening classes from around 7 pm to midnight, get home around 1 am and because I'm an absolute night owl, I usually do my grading and preparations right after until 4 or 5 and then sleep 'till noon. And while I thrive in my rhythm, it's a bit hard to meet, or just come across, people... or get to go out for breakfast. It's silly but I love breakfast and until I get up, most places have switched to the lunch-menu already."

What are the chances. "And here I thought that you were so quiet in the mornings because you are psychic and just know that I sleep during that time." Sirius couldn't help the chuckle bubbling up his throat at the puzzled expression of the man across him. "I'm a bartender and work from 8 to 3 in the morning during the week and until 5 on Fridays and Saturdays." He elaborated, "after that I'm often too riled up to go directly to sleep, so I often go to bed around 6 and sleep until 1."

Remus just stared at him. "Our schedules are nearly identical."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply when the sound of the doorbell interrupted them. Remus got up to open the door to a hurried James, who handed Sirius the spare-keys, kissed his cheek and stormed off again.

"So, this was James. Is he your boyfriend, then?" The cosy atmosphere dissolved with the appearance of a wary look on Remus' face.

"Nah. He is my best friend, practically brother. I know, kissing is rather uncommon between two male friends, but we've been doing that since we met fourteen years ago, and I don't give a shit about convention." Sirius explained with a fond smile on his face.

After that, they parted rather quickly as both men needed to get ready for work, but a lot still lingered in the air, unsaid. His shift went over much too slow for Sirius while he brooded over the change in the atmosphere at the end of his stay with his neighbour.

The next day, Sirius woke up with a plan. A potentially humiliating plan, but worth the risk. He got up much quicker than usual, fired up the oven and began preparing. Around 12:30 Sirius knocked at his neighbour's door and was met with a sleepy Remus in pyjamas.

"Hey- erm... good morning! Here are your clothes!" Sirius began far too loud. All he achieved was a furrowed brow on the other man's face.

Get a grip, Black! "Uhh...OK. Listen, I really like you. Would you like to have a breakfast-date with me?" He tried to put on a winning smile while lifting the tray in his hands a bit.

Remus, who had blushed furiously during Sirius' rambling, blinked at him once before a wide grin spread on his face and he stepped aside to let Sirius and the warm croissants in.

39 notes · View notes

1zashreena1 · 4 years

Text

Quarantine- New Ranch Flavor! -5

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess is stranded in NYC with her Murder Panther for the duration of the quarantine. As a high risk patient she has no choice but to isolate as much as possible. Simulated domesticity ensues. Princess texts a running commentary to her bff Lisa.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

No actual smut, nasty ass snack foods, plus size insecurity, unprotected sex, feels are icky, plus size woman+fit man, bad boys with too much money and not enough impulse control, secondary OCs, excessive swearing (???), illegal business dealings… I mean, its DIEGO

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic @symbiont13 @nicke0115 @bunnykjm @rosee-sensuelle @girlpornparadise @mandoplease @heresathreebee @xxsteph-enrixx @jetiikad @joalsglasses @mutantcookiesecrets @demoncatstone @squidlywiddly87

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged.

~~~

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Thursday 11:22am

From Princess

Day 1 and I literally have an ice pack on my pussy and

Hold on he’s not wearing pants again gtg

~~~

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Friday 9:49am

From Princess

Video chatting with sister when Diego walks past in the background… shirtless.

She put her phone down (my entire screen was just ceiling) and I could hear her crying. Hung up after 10 min

~~~

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Friday 10:14pm

From Princess

He sucks ass at Jenga and its adorable

~~~

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Saturday 11:49am

From Princess

I was provided a to-do list for the day.

It's just his name

~~~

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Sunday 1:32pm

From Princess

We have sorted every liquid in the penthouse into 2 categories:

Potential Lube

Definitely Not Lube

Except we’re arguing about ranch dressing

~~~

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Sunday 2:17pm

From Princess

Update: Ranch went into the Not Lube category because it “smells nasty when it gets warm” This fact was previously unknown to me and I was afraid to ask for more details

~~~

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Monday 8:40am

From Princess

Morning announcements include the fact that 8:37 is the earliest he has ever gotten up

I’m worried about losing my job. Diego advises me to apply to Dyson because I “never lose suction”

Am I offended or proud of myself? It’s not even 9am

~~~

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Tuesday 1:12am

From Princess

This is the most weed I have ever consumed in my life (I know, not a high bar) Why is he hanging upside down off the couch making motorboat noises??

~~~

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Tuesday 1:14am

From Princess

Ahh. He was composing a poem about my tits

~~~

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Tuesday 2:49am

From Princess

The railing up the stairs to the bedroom does not in fact support my weight. Pole dance competition is OFF

~~~

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Tuesday 2:57am

From Princess

You know that thing you do with my bras? Where you put it on like a headband and it makes mickey mouse ears?

~~~

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Wednesday 11:17am

From Princess

Julio required to give 10 min warning prior to arrival so Diego can take off his pants

Yes you read that right

Freak

~~~

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Wednesday 11:19am

From Princess

Yes you do so know who Julio is. Big, round, only wears ivory/eggshell/off white/ThisIsMy 2ndWedding colored blazers. Jeez Lisa you're not old enough for dementia yet girl

~~~

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Wednesday 12:52pm

From Princess

I have played myself. Just ate an entire cheesesteak while being a cockwarmer

Turns out I’m the freak

Julio present and accounted for

~~~

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Thursday 9:37am

From Princess

He’s crunching a bowl of something via spoon. I ask what it is. Crushed cheez-its and mayonnaise. What in the actual fuck this man is a literal monster

~~~

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Thursday 12:10pm

From Princess

Edible body paint works on windows. Had to sit on his shoulders but this is the largest ‘FUCK’ I have ever written. Very proud

~~~

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Thursday 12:22pm

From Princess

Bottom half of the ‘C’ has transferred onto my ass. But 7 orgasms. Pick your battles

~~~

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Thursday 11:47pm

From Princess

Tried a pickled habanero. He’s still face down in the rug crying with laughter. It’s been 10 min dude come on

~~~

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Friday 10:12am

From Princess

Me: Why are you so heavy?

Diego: I keep eating you

Me: High five

~~~

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Friday 3:17pm

From Princess

He’s trying to “conduct business” via 3 cellphones. Would offer my tablet but I’m too pretty for prison. Gonna take a nap

~~~

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Friday 4:41pm

From Princess

Pants are forbidden in the bedroom. We’re just making the rules up as we go I see

~~~

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Saturday 9:59am

From Princess

He’s sitting in the corner of the window walls staring dejectedly outside. I hear the tiniest forlorn whisper “THOSE people are outside”

Too cute--must blow---BRB

~~~

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Saturday 1:32pm

From Princess

Angry texting. Muttering “No I can’t go outside and no you can’t come in here. Bitch…. No no, delete delete delete”

Me: Where is your sister anyway? LA?

Him: Very Squinty Eyes

~~~

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Saturday 9:22pm

From Princess

My ass is stuck in the kitchen sink. While he was very helpful getting me in here he is of no assistance getting me out.

~~~

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Saturday 11:46pm

From Princess

Apparently ‘douchecanoe twatwaffle jerkface’ is the most hilarious insult he has ever heard. My brilliance is unparalleled

~~~

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Sunday 5:51am

From Princess

Me: Hey what’s the worst thing you’ve ever put in your mouth?

Him outrageously offended: I’m not answering that!

Him: ... you first

~~~

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Sunday 7:12pm

From Princess

Is it a legit massage if he has to pause in the middle to jack off?

~~~

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Monday 11:06am

From Princess

Ordered groceries via Amazon Prime drone delivery. Sitting on the rooftop patio wrapped up together in a ginormous blankie waiting.

Does this count as a date?

~~~

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Monday 1:13pm

From Princess

Drone arrived. I lost my shit. Coolest thing ever. He’s frantically ordering more stuff because I haven’t looked this ecstatic since the time he rubbed my feet then went down on me for 2 hrs

Hold up change of plans

~~~

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Monday 2:28pm

From Princess

stubble burn on bottom of feet :-/

~~~

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Monday 6:44pm

From Princess

We can both fit in the jacuzzi tub. Almost drowned when his phone rang and we both spazzed out

~~~

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Tuesday 10:10am

From Princess

Today’s formal edict: He will only be referring to himself in the 3rd person. I am required to do as told. Should not be this turned on

~~~

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Tuesday 11:58am

From Princess

Watching him try to answer calls like this is a level of hilarity I could not have predicted

~~~

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Tuesday 1:53pm

From Princess

He gave me a crash course in chem. Still don’t know anything but it was hot as hell

~~~

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Tuesday 2:57pm

From Princess

Despite all evidence to the contrary I’m a Good Girl. Did as I was told. Got rewarded. 13 times

~~~

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Tuesday 5:33pm

From Princess

Unlocked a tiny piece of tragic backstory*™: He’s never been to a zoo :-(

~~~

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Wednesday 11:24am

From Princess

Julio and Bastian brought 4 pizzas. Currently eating them individually sitting in a giant square in the living room SOCIAL DISTANCING

Like he wasn’t inside me 10 min ago wtf

~~~

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Wednesday 11:25am

From Princess

Yes cute driver Bastian. Btw you are barking up the wrong tree girl. His favorite animal is bears lol

~~~

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Wednesday 12:39pm

From Princess

Garlic butter: lube or no? Round table discussion happening.

~~~

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Wednesday 1:19pm

From Princess

I won in favor of No

Me: slams hands down on table

Me: HAVE YOU EVER HAD A YEAST INFECTION???

All men present: :-[

:-[

~~~

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Wednesday 1:32pm

From Princess

Diego: puts garlic butter cup in the empty box and slides the whole mess off table to the floor without breaking eye contact. My sugar daddy is truly a murder panther

~~~

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Wednesday 3:49pm

From Princess

Flipping channels (he only has 5000) when he comes downstairs from the bedroom wearing Ginormous Blankie as cape.

Him: Can we do the thing again?

Me: Gotta be way more specific babe

Him: Flaps blankie like wings and gives me puppy dog eyes

Him: You know. Thing. On the roof. ...please?

Did

Did he just ask me to cuddle???

~~~

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Wednesday 5:58pm

From Princess

Can confirm roof cuddles. He fell asleep with his face mashed into my neck-shoulder after watching sunset. Every time I move he whimpers and squeezes tighter. I don't know what is happening but it kinda hurts in my chest

~~~

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Wednesday 9:12pm

From Princess

Me: You know those girls you send away when I come up? There's one that sorta begrudgingly likes me?

Him, stuffing a 2nd Oreo into his mouth(there's already a whole 1 in there)

Him: Frahnthessga?

Me: Yeah! Can I fuck her?

….I should worry about my job again pretty sure Murder Panther Sugar Daddy is dead

~~~

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Wednesday 10:48pm

From Princess

We splintered the plexiglass-divider-shower-wall thingy. His solution was to just hold all 215lbs of me up in the air and finish. I have no words

~~~

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Thursday 4:12am

From Princess

I can hear him on the phone downstairs listing names. I don't know these people. I'm going in the bathroom to run water so I can't hear anything else

~~~

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Thursday 9:02am

From Princess

I slept thru a breakfast meeting. There's a laptop and a box of 1 doz Boston cream donuts labeled PRINCESS on the bar counter. He's watching news with Julio + Bastian on the couch. Odd but ok I got fave donuts so whatevs

~~~

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Thursday 9:17am

From Princess

On 3rd donut when I catch him staring. Can only see from eyes up bc he's peering at me over back of the couch. Have inadvertently activated Horny Murder Panther mode via accidental slutty licking of cream filling.

~~~

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Thursday 11:40am

From Princess

Me: I don't like avocado

Diego: bitch what the fuck

~~~

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Thursday 12:10pm

From Princess

He asked what the deal was with white people and meatloaf. I requested clarification on food or music. He's confused it's fucking adorable

BUT NOW I HAVE TO EXPLAIN THE ENTIRE GENRE OF CLASSIC ROCK

~~~

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Thursday 2:14pm

From Princess

I'm making a meatloaf for dinner. Also brownies. TV is still on???

~~~

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Thursday 4:24pm

From Princess

Found a big round can of guava paste in the back of the fridge. He's spoon feeding it to me while watching me make meatloaf

Diego: I did not realize you were so… domesticated

Me, no brain to mouth filter: Yeah well gettin dicked down 3x a day will do that to a girl

Please send hitman asap

~~~

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Thursday 5:10pm

From Princess

He just turned TV off. Local news was listing all major crimes in NYC today. Last story was 6 bodies found inside meat plant freezer, execution style kills with "on-site" equipment. When I whisper Dafuq?? he distractedly mutters 'captive bolt pistol'

He's texting again

~~~

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Thursday 5:39pm

From Princess

I kinda wanna come home now

~~~

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Thursday 7:48pm

From Princess

I have converted another person to meatloaf lover (food not music)

On 3rd brownie when he declares: I am never letting you leave again. Mine now

Look up from rolling my eyes to receive Super Intense I Can See Into Your Soul Diego Stare

~~~

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Thursday 9:50pm

From Princess

He's looking for a scary movie via voice command on remote. Other hand is on my foot. I can't even see my foot. What is the actual purpose of hands that big?? What is the evolutionary goal to this endgame? ?? Why am I wet just thinking about a h a n d ?????

~~~

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Friday 12:34am

From Princess

Con: This asshole is delighted to learn that I don't like scary movies

Pro: Hiding my face in his chest means I fucking feel the rumble when he laughs at me. I think I'm developing a heart condition. Hurts again.

~~~

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Friday 1:40am

From Princess

He's rubbing his face all over my stomach. I don't like this. Sir why. Please it's literally the least attractive part of me

~~~

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Friday 2:11am

From Princess

He likes it…? I don't see. How does. But it's.

~~~

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Friday 3:47am

From Princess

He's asleep on my stomach after spending 40 min declaring his love for belly

I'm crying and I can't stop. My whole chest hurts. What is this. Is this the most long game prank ever. There's no way he's for real. I'm afraid. Do you think I should try to escape?? Please you know I'm not easily frightened but I just. Please text back I need my BFF

~~~

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Friday 7:18am

From Princess

Woke up in bed alone and naked. Gonna grab a shirt and handle this. I can't just ignore it. This is probably a bad idea but I can't just let it go. If you don't hear back from me by noon call my parents. I love you

~~~

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Friday 11:38am

From Princess

Halfway down the stairs 3 dudes I don't know come out of the office, Diego and Julio follow. They take 1 look at me and launch into laughter and some rude fucking spanish. I'm rusty but I know fucking "fat bitch" tyvm. Diego picks this mf up by the throat and throws him into the elevator. Drags the other 2 in and... no one has come back since

Been locked in the bathroom. I'm afraid to hear anything

~~~

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Friday 1:48pm

From Princess

Relocated to closet earlier. Reading. I'm 2 chapters in and I don't even remember the title. Gonna take an ativan. Hands are shaking

~~~

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Friday 2:27pm

From Princess

You know what? I don't even care. Like as long as it's never directed at me I just don't care.

It's too late I'm in too deep. I don't know if I can even come home after this. I'm not who everyone thinks I am. I don't know who I am. I'm turning the phone off now I'm sorry but I just need everything to stop for a while

~~~

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Friday 7:48pm

From Princess

I'm ok, sorry for the dramatics. Woke up still in the closet corner but under Ginormous Blankie and can hear shower running. Decide it's time to put my big girl panties on and march in there. No I did not learn from the last time. Standby

~~~

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Friday 9:22pm

From Princess

We're good.

~~~

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Friday 11:49pm

From Princess

Ok. Marched into bathroom, launched into speech: I'm sorry but I did not know anyone was here. You have to leave me a note or something. Please tell me I did not ruin anything

Him, still in shower: Get your ass in here.

It was a literal growl

~~~

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Friday 11:50pm

From Princess

Apparently that guy had been fucking up small time and Diego was waiting for him to fuck up big time. I will never see all 3 of them again (No do not ask)Yes it was frustrating but not mad at me. Ok a little because his sister hired that guy and now he has to explain the dude's ...disappearance. Without mentioning me. No one can know about me I am a "liability"

Um ouch..? I think?? Chest pain again

~~~

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Friday 11:51pm

From Princess

He's been asleep, I'm just staring at the ceiling. Demanded I let him prove that he would never put hands on me that I don't want. I thought he was gonna cry. I did start crying but said yes. Not gentle per se, but definitely ...emotional? Like soft sex. Slow soft sex but with emotions?? I'm lost

~~~

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Friday 11:54pm

From Princess

Please tell me no. Talk me out of this. Tell me I'm fucknuts and I need to just come home and be reasonable and sensible. You know when you stand at a ledge and a little voice tells you Just jump. Do it. Go

Do I want all in? Can I do this? I should not do this. I should not care about him. Especially like this. I just. When I'm not here this is all I think about. No one else makes me feel this way

~~~

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Friday 11:56pm

From Princess

I'm hysterical right? This will go away if I just sleep. I can't stop looking at him. Touching his face, hair. Ever since the Kitchen Blowup (after the first fight??is it a fight if you're not technically in a relationship?) he's been different. Careful?? Like he really listened to me and heard. I can see him trying. Like reining in his knee jerk reactions and stopping to think before he says stuff to me. What am I supposed to do?

~~~

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Friday 11:59pm

From Princess

I want to trust him. I want to be spoiled and fucked senseless and all the giggles and private planes and shopping sprees and sleeping in til noon. But what about the other side? Constantly looking over my shoulder? Worrying that he might not come home from whatever the fuck he's out doing? The other actual supermodel hot women??? I'm not naive.

~~~

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Saturday 12:10am

From Princess

I just need to turn this off. Shut it down. Cut off emotions and just fuck. I can't do this and I can't have him for keeps. So it's time to be realistic. After this shitty quarantine ends I'll take whatever cash he wants to give me and go home. I can move if I have to. It's not hard to change your name these days. This whole nightmare will be the hilarious rumors in my future nursing home

~~~

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Saturday 4:44am

From Princess

Got up at like 350 for the bathroom. When I crawled back into bed he yanked me backwards to be smashed into/under him. Buried face into my hair and ordered:

Stop

Leaving

~~~

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Saturday 9:10am

From Princess

Woke up alone. Gathered shirt. Did surveillance from top of stairs. Music blasting. Bastian and Diego are working out. I had to sit down for a while

~~~

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Saturday 9:40am

From Princess

Finally made it down the stairs. Eating donuts while watching live action porn

~~~

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Saturday 10:27am

From Princess

Show's over. Diego announces he is going to shower with a wink. I am staying on this barstool with my donuts. I am determined

~~~

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Saturday 10:38am

From Princess

Sharing donuts with Bastian. He is staring at me

Me: ...wut?

Bastian: You know I haven't driven Franchesca anywhere in 4 months

I don't know how long I've been sitting here staring at this half eaten donut but Bastian is gone

Shower still running

~~~

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Saturday 1:36pm

From Princess

Slut level 7: Shower blowjob

Realized I have to wash my hair now. He demands to do it??

Diego: How much fucking conditioner is this going to take?

Me drooling blissfully: Uhhh... please not that word right now

...I literally heard Horny Murder Panther transition happen.

He did not touch anything but my head. Came via voice command. How the fuck

~~~

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Saturday 1:39pm

From Princess

Then it was Round 2 still dripping wet in the bed. No idea how he recovered that fast not looking gift horse in the mouth. Haha Horse

Also slow soft again? Does this mean something?? I feel like I'm missing some key piece of info. Never had a dude like kiss all over my face and stroke my hair. What is this gentle?? Don't like the whole looking into my eyes thing

~~~

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Saturday 3:02pm

From Princess

Received an assignment. Was trying to budget for next month (on my new laptop! Whole Microsoft office package!! SPREADSHEETS!!!)

Instructed to help fix what I fucked up…?

It's resumes. He wants me to look at resumes. Um

~~~

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Saturday 4:12pm

From Princess

We traded laptops. I picked 3 resumes for 'warehouse labor' This is fucking surreal

Got my laptop back and… all the internet tabs were closed?? I was paying all my bills dude wtf. His phone rings but before he walks off tells me the title will be mailed to me. ?????

~~~

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Saturday 4:47pm

From Princess

He's still in the office on the phone. I'm in the closet in shock. He paid my loans. He paid my Loans. He Paid My Fucking Loans OFF

CAR

STUDENT LOANS

$$$$$ 30,000 $$$$$

THIRTY GRAND

~~~

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Saturday 4:52pm

From Princess

No you can't have him if I don't want him!! Fuck you

~~~

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Saturday 5:32pm

From Princess

Bastian came back, left a big box on the counter, said "This is for you honey" and left again. Diego still in the office.

...should I open it or wait for him to come out??

~~~

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Saturday 5:36pm

From Princess

Fuck it. I'm opening this shit

~~~

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Saturday 5:42pm

From Princess

It's a very large Brahmin bag.

Holy fuck its gorgeous

~~~

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Saturday 5:47pm

From Princess

You know what? You Know What?

IT'S KITCHEN BLOWUP 2.0 TIME

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Sunday 8:42am

From Princess

I think we're ok? I actually uh, accidentally recorded um… everything-ish. And I might send it to you later. But right now things are kinda wobbly and I just wanna enjoy everything while I can. I'll check back in later. We're going to bed now

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Sunday 1:58pm

From Princess

Woke up to 1 gigantic hand stroking down my back. 2nd hand stuffed up my pussy to the knuckle. Villain voice directly into left ear. Memory hazy after that

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Sunday 3:01pm

From Princess

Do Oreos in bed at 3pm count as breakfast? My hips hurt

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Sunday 6:40pm

From Princess

Ok we all know I'm very much A Freak. Trysexual if you will. Only way to know you don't like it is to try it right? So anal. Never really worked. Great in theory really unpleasant in practice.

Turns out others were trying to insert the wrong appendage. Related: I fucking love beards

e v e r y w h e r e

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Sunday 10:40pm

From Princess

Yes I know you wanna know about KITCHEN BLOWUP 2.0, someday I'll tell you about v.1. It's complicated. There are feels. I can't take the vague, wishy washy, up in the air status. So it went kinda like this

Me: You want to "keep" me? Wtf does that even mean?? And how, via purchasing me??? Don't get me wrong, I like being spoiled. I'm not an idiot. But you don't even know me

He looked like I stabbed him. It was horrible

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Sunday 10:42pm

From Princess

So I laid it all out: I lived in my car for a while in my 20s. Escaped an abusive ex after 8 yrs. Survived cancer at 26. Did 2 rounds of trade school just to be scraping by at like $15 an hour. That you just paid off like it was nothing. You try to protect me from you and your life. But you have no idea what I've already survived.

So here's the deal: You wanna keep me?? Then I get to keep you.

But it's everything. If I can't have everything then I don't want anything. And if it can't be ONLY me then I gotta go. I'm not a back up plan or a convenience.

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Sunday 10:50pm

From Princess

At this point I'm scream-crying, gesticulating like I'm hysterical. He's collapsed on the floor at my feet looking like I just killed his dog. Only makes me worse. I'm demanding an answer right fucking now. This is a disaster.

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Sunday 10:54pm

From Princess

He starts yelling about how he can't keep me if I'm dead. This isn't a fucking game and I'm just like Do I look like I'm playing right now?!?

Lisa, he was crying. Just kept repeating "She's right. She's fucking right. That bitch is right."

Head in his hands sobbing.

I couldn't.

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Sunday 10:59pm

From Princess

So I got down on my knees in front of him and reached for his hands. Just like the first blowup. I was terrified because he's obviously not in control and like I don't know the things he does but I Know. And the PTSD from ex… but I finally got him to look at me and asked him to just Tell Me.

And he did.

~~~

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Monday 12:04am

From Princess

If you had told me that night in the club that any of this would happen. That this man was capable of everything these past 10 months have brought. I would've taken you to the hospital myself.

He collapsed on me and was just begging me "Don't go don't go. Please stay. Stay just for now. Please. No one else no one." I have a lot to consider. Probably gonna be quiet for a few days. I'll text you when things calm down. He's asleep on my chest right now

~~~

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Monday 12:10am

From Princess

I mean 10 months...how many weekends have I been up here? 12? 16? And only twice did I reach out first and ask. I have stuff here. You saw the closet section. Every time I arrive there's coke and ketchup in the fridge. My face wash and toothbrush and a huge bottle of gel in the bathroom. Last time here he gave me the safe combo???

~~~

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Monday 12:14am

From Princess

YES THE SODA JFC

I mean, I've never seen ...other… in the fridge. I don't think it needs to be refrigerated???

I Don't Know Okay

~~~

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Monday 6:40am

From Princess

Woke up around 5 and he was just staring at me from like 2 inches away. He left once he realized I was awake. I didn't follow. He still hasn't come back to bed yet. Should I go find him?

~~~

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Monday 11:38am

From Princess

Found him on the couch. Coffee table covered in vast array of firearms. Did not realize there were so many in this penthouse. Little uncomfortable. But I'm a fast learner with good mechanical skills so now I can do gun stuff. Please don't ask me about it

~~~

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Monday 11:41am

From Princess

Ok yesss. We had the stupid movie cliche moment of big tough guy stands behind damsel to teach some physical skill. Gawd.

...yeah doing it feels better than watching. You happy now???

~~~

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Monday 2:28pm

From Princess

Mood swing. He declared vengeance on behalf of his closet. I have worn too many shirts. This cannot continue. ????? Stay tuned

~~~

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Monday 2:59pm

From Princess

This man runs the largest distribution enterprise in the western hemisphere.

Currently stuck in one of my $6 tank tops from Target.

~~~

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Monday 4:17pm

From Princess

I'm out a tank top. And a thong. Go ahead and just think about that

...But I'm still wearing one of his shirts :-D

~~~

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Monday 5:48pm

From Princess

Instead of admitting defeat he decided to forcibly remove the shirt from me. Since I have to be difficult, I ran. If this place wasn't soundproof there would be so many police here.

What level of fucked up is it to enjoy screaming No!, while struggling, not less than 3 sec prior to orgasm??

~~~

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Monday 5:52pm

From Princess

The scale only goes to 10. You don't gotta be a bitch. Damn

~~~

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Monday 8:17pm

From Princess

14 days will be up this Thursday. But they're talking about extending it, really bad here. I'm scared. Gonna try a drink, maybe ativan because I'm starting to freak out.

~~~

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Monday 9:57pm

From Princess

Watching the news and I just sorta came unglued. Diego not really a soft/gentle guy (obvs) but once I got thru a blubber-cry explanation of immuno-compromised and cancer treatment I got full lap cuddles. I want this every time I'm upset. Warm and solid and big hands and soft nuzzles and scratchy velvet cheek kisses. Feel so tiny and safe

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 11:40pm

From Princess

Think I'm fukced up. Everything feels good. Petting all the things

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 11:44pm

From Princess

I'm fiiiiine. One drink. Once ativan. Thats it

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 11:49pm

From Princess

Omgod ill be fine it's good donot call me

~~~

Incoming Text

Monday 11:55pm

From Princess

What are fiddlesticks? Like the worrd not a instrument accessory?why do we say that

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 7:42am

From Princess

Holy shit I slept so good. I looked back thru the texts. Wtf was I doing?? I don't remember any of this

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 8:32am

From Princess

He's giving me that all teeth smile. I'm very suspicious. And surprisingly not horny?? Am I dying?

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 9:46am

From Princess

Have been informed that I was very adorable last night. I'm afraid to learn his definition of adorable

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 10:12am

From Princess

Omg he has 3 hours of video

~~~

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Tuesday 11:17am

From Princess

I spent 45 min yelling about Pluto planet status being revoked and the kilogram definition being forever altered. He was very invested in the 2nd part. Legit academic discussion

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 11:49am

From Princess

Next part: I decided to make a fried egg sandwich. He started recording like a cooking show. I almost lit my hair on fire.

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 11:57am

From Princess

Oh I see where everything went wrong. I had 1 drink and 1 ativan. Then I finished his drink. Then I drank his replacement. Why tf did he let me do that??

"You were so cute! How could I say no to this face, bonita?"

...I will remember that

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 12:13pm

From Princess

Apparently we exchanged playlists. This is not good

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 12:28pm

From Princess

Omg I revealed the Murder Panther Sugar Daddy title. Oh fuck. Shit shit shit

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 12:42pm

From Princess

I spent 40 min petting him all over while listing everything I liked and why. He is going to be insufferable for forever after this

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 1:22pm

From Princess

Lisa. Lisa. Holy shit. He said we made a porno. I laughed. He fucking narrated an opening to it. I am dying I am going to die I am dead

Him, offscreen: Diego and Bicki make a Porno!

Me, onscreen, twerking on the bed in lace bra

Me: eeeeeeeeeeeeeee ASS AND TITTIES!!!

Diego pops into shot, giggling: Pretty Princess Pussy!!

The whole thing just dissolved into shaky blur and us laughing hysterically

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 1:24pm

From Princess

No I'm not sharing it. What is wrONG WITH YOU??????

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 3:44pm

From Princess

It… did not go the way I thought it would. And apparently he had not watched it either because we were both surprised.

That. Was not sex. Seeing the soft slow with emotions from the outside was pretty damning.

That was lovemaking

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 6:32pm

From Princess

I'm locked in the bathroom. Everything is fucked.

I just… I just hid my face and said "I want to go home." Like a fucking coward hiding behind my hair, I took off upstairs and now I'm here. It's been a long time. I'm still alone

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 6:39pm

From Princess

No shit Sherlock, I know I have intimacy issues.

Men don't love me. Sure I'm fun to fuck for a while. But they don't take a poor fat girl home. Come on, you've seen it firsthand. Clearly, since here I still am by myself

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 6:42pm

From Princess

I don't know what I was thinking. I don't belong here. Guess I'll just ride out the last 2 days then come home

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 6:45pm

From Princess

I think Julio is here. I can hear their voices but can't make out the words

Oh no his sister is here. They're yelling in Spanish, I can't catch any of it

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 10:14pm

From Princess

They screamed for a while, then she finally left. Been silent ever since. I don't know if he's still here

~~~

Incoming Text

Tuesday 10:40pm

From Princess

He's definitely still here. There's a tantrum going on

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 12:32am

From Princess

Fell asleep in the closet corner again. Except when I woke up he was wedged in there with me

Me: … um

Diego: I think I see why you do this

Then he went to sleep on me

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 5:48am

From Princess

Have been talking since 3. Still in the closet.

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 7:10am

From Princess

I'm coming home when this is over. I need some time and space to think.

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 7:12am

From Princess

Is that even the right term? Do you 'break up' with a sugar daddy????

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 7:13am

From Princess

NO I WANT TO KEEP HIM

BITCH I WILL STAB YOU

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 7:16am

From Princess

Gonna shower and go to bed. You mention that last text and I literally will stab you. BFF or not

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 4:40pm

From Princess

Just listened to an hour of descriptions of Mexico.

I am… tempted

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 6:54pm

From Princess

I'm flying home Friday, they just lifted the travel ban here.

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 6:59pm

From Princess

No, no one is happy here. We're both clingy disasters today

~~~

Incoming Text

Wednesday 7:17pm

From Princess

Went downstairs. It's a war zone. We came back upstairs

~~~

Incoming Text

Thursday 6:19am

From Princess

Couldn't sleep so I'm packing. Diego is watching me from the bed with the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes in existence.

Effect kinda ruined because I can see his bare ass

~~~

Incoming Text

Thursday 6:22am

From Princess

Why would you ask me that? You know he's an exhibitionist

~~~

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Thursday 6:23am

From Princess

I can't decide if you're the Best or the Worst BFF ever. Gawd

~~~

Incoming Text

Thursday 6:25am

From Princess

...IMAGE LOADING…

~~~

Incoming Text

Thursday 6:27am

From Princess

Yeah. You see my dilemma now???

~~~

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Thursday 6:28am

From Princess

Yes I bite it! What is wrong with you today???

~~~

Incoming Text

Thursday 6:43pm

From Princess

He spent entire day attached to me. I..??? What do I do with a clingy cartel boss drug lord?? Its too much

~~~

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Friday 8:52am

From Princess

I'm on the plane. He rode here with me. Looked so… broken. Feel like a monster. But I'm scared

~~~

Incoming Text

Friday 1:45pm

From Princess

Lisa. LISA. LISA.

I'm home but but he. Omg

~~~

Incoming Text

Friday 2:38pm

From Princess

There's a tiny stuffed panther in my bag with a note: I just want to be with you

My very own Tiny Murder Panther

#damnit diego #murder panther #zash writes #24 fucking 7 hours in this house #rough me up then dick me down #so many feels #literally filth #nasty ass food

43 notes · View notes

pedros-mustache-main · 4 years

Text

homecoming

summary: your daughter is nearly six months old by the time she meets her extended family.

word count: 3k+

warnings: excessive fluff, so much so it’s almost disgusting; also, more importantly: this is a fic set in the future post-virus. please, follow guidelines regarding virus response (specifically stay-at-home rules) as it applies to your local area. this is meant as a work of fiction only, not to be taken as medical advice or a solution to any issue. it’s really me tryin’ to find hope at home through my daydreams, okay??

a/n: posted this and then tumblr ate it so here’s attempt two!

(gif by @mazzelloplots i believe)

at some point, you consider replacing your daughter’s middle name with the word zoom.

penelope zoom lee.

it’s funny, but only to a certain point. it’s mostly depressing. since her birth, penelope has been introduced to your family and gwil’s family and countless others over an online communication tool more times than you care to count. aside from the nurses on the day of her arrival, only yourself and your husband have been lucky enough to actually see her in person, to touch her soft skin, and delight in her milestones.

you try your best––both of you do––to include the outside world in penelope’s first months. there’s a group text affectionately titled “the kid” (at least, you hope joe’s title is affectionate) with nearly the max amount of numbers allowed in one group. several times a week you send photos and videos, anything to keep people involved. at least twice, gwil’s parents have come to meet penelope through your storm door, and you regularly video chat with your parents. still, it’s hard. it’s hard knowing the time you’ve spent at home doting on your daughter could not be shared with others personally.

until now.

the day on your calendar––a saturday––is circled in thick red marker. sloppy handwriting, penned in excitement, reads picnic for pm. after months of biding your time and watching the news and talking with your pediatrician, you’ve got the go ahead: not only can you gather with family and friends for the first time in months, you can show off you baby at long last.

you can barely contain your excitement as you drive out of london and head for the countryside. a smile stretches your face almost painfully and your legs bounce with pent-up energy. already you can feel moisture prick the back of your eyes, but you push the happy tears away. there will be plenty of time for joyful crying later.

“[y/n], you’re shaking the whole car.” gwilym takes one hand off the steering wheel to place it on your knee, pinning your leg in place.

he wears a comfortable smile, feigning nonchalance, but you know he’s thrilled. you can see it in the light dancing around his eyes and the way he grips your leg a smidge too hard. as much as it is for you, this is gwil’s moment too. he’s just as proud of your daughter as you are, and it shows in his calm restraint. he loves her too much––he loves you too much––to let himself fall to pieces alongside you.

you brush an errant lock of hair away from your face. “sorry––just stirred up.” you release a shaky breath and twist in your seat to check on penelope. the baby is asleep in her carseat, lulled by the gentle hum of the car’s motor and the whoosh of air-conditioning.

“you’ve got nothing to worry about. my mum’s got everything planned right down to the minute. all we have to do is––”

you cut him off as you reach for your purse. “try not to cry our eyeballs out.” you grab your pack of portable tissues and withdraw one, crumbling it in your hand, laughing as you dab your eyes. “god, i’m already starting.”

he rubs circles on your thigh with his thumb, smirking as he studies the road stretched out before him. you drop your head back against the headrest and close your eyes.

it will be a long day for all three of you. you worry that penelope won’t adjust to the sudden influx of people, and secretly, you worry you won’t be able to adjust as well. motherhood, you’ve heard it said, can be isolating. and becoming a new mother during a worldwide pandemic even more so. for months now, you’ve relied on gwilym alone for your physical, social, and emotional needs. more than ever, you are in-tune with his thoughts and feelings. you know him better now that you ever did before. so introducing a dozen people to your tight-knit trio in one day is daunting. your heart thumps a little harder at the thought of actually getting the chance to be close to the ones you love––both out of nerves and anticipation. if you’ve learned anything through the past few months, it’s that life and love are complicated. you desperately hope you’ll be able to take whatever comes throughout the day in stride.

the lake house you’ve rented for the long weekend is tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city’s center, but close enough you can make a quick trip to the pediatrician should anything go awry. (you practically bullied gwil into the location. he wanted something further out for a true holiday, but you couldn’t stand the idea of being so far from the doctor.) the house is larger than it needs to be––a four bedroom cabin nestled on the edge of a sparkling lake, no neighbors in sight––yet you anticipate family members claiming whatever space they can find over the next three nights. ancient trees tower over the place, obscuring it from view of the road. it’s cozy looking, but not primitive––encouraging when you often feel like an overdressed milk-machine attached to either a baby or a plug-in pump.

gwil parks the car beside a blue sedan. for a moment, the car is silent. if you strain your ears, you swear you can hear the lake lap at the rocky shore. the silence is thick with emotion, and you can tell gwil’s thinking by the way he worries his lower lip. he turns to meet your gaze.

“we’ve waited a long time for this.” his voice is quiet, almost somber.

your brow puckers, and you reach across the console to take his hand. “and it’s finally here.”

gwil glances over his shoulder. his eyes trace penelope in her carrier. she’s blinking sleepily, transfixed by the trees blowing in the wind overhead. when her head turns and she catches gwil watching her, she coos, grabbing her own feet with a gummy smile. he laughs, and you swear you can see a fine sheen of tears over his eyes. you squeeze his fingers.

“hey,” you say, pulling his attention back. “you told me not to worry. everyone’s gonna love her.”

in lieu of a response, he cups your cheek and presses a kiss to your mouth. the touch is swift, a firm resolution to whatever worries the pair of you may share.

gwil gets out of the car first, and you follow, slinging penelope’s diaper bag over your shoulder. with minimal effort, he unlatches the carrier from its seat and hooks it over his elbow. penelope sways along with the movement, gurgling to herself. gwil nods to the sedan with a broad grin.

“mum’s here. i bet you ten quid she’s inside that door shitting herself with excitement.”

you follow his eyeline, and sure enough, gwil’s mother stands behind the cabin’s screen door. her smile is like a lighthouse; sailors could spot it a mile off in foggy weather no trouble. a smile of your own, giddy, spreads across your face, and it’s all you can do not to run across the gravel drive.

gwil’s mother, sherene, practically falls out of the cabin when you reach the porch. before you say a proper greeting, she’s crushed you to her. she’s a short woman, trim and not-overly soft, so her sharp chin burrows against your shoulder. her embrace is tight, and a puff of air releases from your chest at the force of her arms around your back. she rocks you side to side, all the while exclaiming her joy in a mixture of english and welsh. finally, she draws back, her cheeks flushed. you laugh and squeeze her arm.

“it’s good to see you, too, sherene!”

“oh, good god!” the woman waves her hand with a hard sniff. “i just can’t handle it. i think i might burst. all my babies and their babies together...” she presses her hand to her mouth as a fresh wave of tears shimmer in her eyes.

“do you need to sit down, mum?” gwil’s question is more in jest than a true question of concern, but sherene nods.

“as soon as i look at that baby i know i’ll fall apart. you’d better come inside.”

sherene leads you to a living room tucked behind the kitchen. the walls are dark wood, the floor covered in an ornate area rug. a stuffed deer head rests above the fireplace. the air, blowing gently through an opened window, smells like chicken, and you wonder if someone’s already begun cooking on the grill.

sherene is the first to hold penelope after you’ve exchanged pleasantries with gwil’s father and his siblings. you’re wary at first. sitting beside gwil on the couch, you find yourself holding his hand a little too firmly. your nails dig into the skin of his palm, and he presses your fingers, offering you a reassuring smile. he leans back, one arm thrown across the back of the couch, the other hand in yours.

for her part, penelope reacts well to sherene’s over-enthusiastic baby-talk. she smiles her gummy smile, and the room collectively oos-and-aas. it’s as if they’ve never seen a baby before, but you’re glad. your heart pinches with a sudden burst of happiness, and you lean into the crook of gwil’s arm to keep from weeping.

“she’s eating well?” sherene asks as she passes the baby to gwil’s father, eoin.

you nod, sitting straighter. “i feel like a giant pairs of tits to be honest. it’s ridiculous how much she eats.”

“i can tell!” gwil’s father kneads one of the generous rolls on penelope’s leg. “she’s got quite a good head of hair, too.”

elbowing your husband, you lift a hand to ruffle his hair. “i think she gets that from her father.”

over the following half-hour, penelope is all anyone can focus on. her every movement is cataloged by phone cameras, her every sound is listened to with attentive ears. your daughter eats the attention up with glee. she’s thrilled with her new friends and their happy smiles and gentle pokes and pinches. any worries about her adjusting to new faces fades as the moments go by.

when the doorbell rings, gwil’s family drifts out of the room and onto the back patio with their own children. there will be plenty of time to drool over the baby throughout the weekend, but the out-of-town guests are soon to arrive, so they make space for the next round of introductions. as sherene goes to answer the door, gwil takes the moment to scoop penelope into his arms. he bounces her on his knee, his face mysteriously blank as she shrills with amusement.

“why am i so nervous?”

you shift to face him, drawing your legs beneath you. your fingers dance through the hair at the nape of his neck as you study his face. “what? for brian and the guys?”

he nods. “i feel like a pre-teen or something i’m so nervous.”

“you just want them to like her as much as we do.” you make a face at penelope who reaches for your nose. “how could they not?”

sherene pokes her head around the doorframe. “knock knock,” she says. “more people are here.” she holds out her arm and ben and joe walk in, trailed by rami and lucy who move hand in hand.

gwil stands, penelope on his hip. you rise too.

for a moment, no one speaks. penelope’s head swivels back and forth, unsure what activity she should focus on: the people milling outside or the new friends before her. her arms flap against gwil’s chest.

joe is the first to break the silence. “oh my god, she is so chubby.”

extending her arms, lucy makes grabby fingers. “zoom does not do her justice. give her here!”

gwil passes her off then slides his arm around your waist. he gives joe a pointed look. “in my personal opinion, the chubbier the baby the better.”

“i mean, yeah, but you never said she was that chubby.” joe holds gwil’s stare then cracks a grin. he sticks out his hand. “congrats, man.”

gwil shakes joe’s hand then the room returns to quiet.

tossing up his arms, joe scoffs. “aw, come here, you guys!” he folds you and gwil in a hug, his arms like welcome vices. looking over his shoulder, he gestures with his head toward the others. “group hug, group hug.”

ben, now holding penelope, weasels he way in to the middle of the circle. one hand under her arm and the other beneath her bum, he lifts her gently.

“it’s the circle of life,” he croons, the familiar tune from the lion king, garbled african language, and unfamiliar vantage point bringing penelope to shrieks of laughter.

“now that we’ve met her, are you going to stop blowing up our phones?” joe’s voice is muffled from where his mouth is pressed against gwil’s shoulder, and his eyes strain to meet yours around rami’s neck.

“you are the least supportive person i know.” rami rolls his eyes. “i know i always forget to respond, but i like the pictures, [y/n].”

“i do, too!” joe backtracks. “but the thread takes up, like, three gigabytes on my phone for crying out loud.”

lucy tickles penelope’s tummy with her finger. “three delightful gigabytes!”

“i thought i heard a lot of nonsense in here.” brian may’s voice breaks the group apart. you feel gwil go stiff beside you, and you rub a soothing hand across his back.

“holy shit, it’s brian may from queen.” joe grabs penelope’s shoulder. “do you want to ask for an autograph? this is a big moment for you, kid.”

penelope makes an excited sound in response. she tries to grab joe’s cheek, but he dodges, blowing a raspberry on her wrist instead.

after quick greetings with brian and anita, the foursome filter out of the room onto the patio. already you can hear rami chiding joe as he asks eoin what’s for supper. the exchange is a balm to your soul. some things will never change.

gwil is still slightly stiff as he accepts brian’s hug of hello. his neck looks taut even from where you stand, and you know why, so you look up at gwil in a silent request for permission after allowing brian to take penelope in his arms. gwil nods almost imperceptibly. his eyes are glossy, his jaw tight.

with a grin, you motion to the baby. “brian, we’d like for you to officially meet penelope may lee.” you emphasize her middle name which has gone unspoken since you decided what it would be all those months ago in the hospital room.

brian stills, his hand on penelope’s back gone slack. “may?”

gwil nods and has to clear his throat before he speaks. “yeah... after you.”

anita, tears in her eyes, draws you close. “oh, sweetheart,” she whispers. “how kind.”

“you mean a lot to me,” gwil continues. he looks at you then back to brian. “to both of us, really. we wanted to honor that, i guess.”

“well, geez... i’m touched.” brian’s smile is soft as he watches penelope squirm in his arms. he adjusts her, and the movement warrants her attention. she grabs a fistful of his hair and leans forward to try and put it in her mouth. “she’s a beauty.”

“we’ve started calling her the pm, you know, like the prime minister,” you add. “she’s gonna be spoiled rotten.”

brian laughs. “just like the prime minister.” with a contented sigh, he looks at gwil, and you marvel (not for the first time) at how similar they are. “thank you, gwilym.”

“the least we could do.”

“freddie would like her.”

“you think so?”

“i know so.” he snaps as he remembers something, pointing to anita. “i left the books in the car.”

“books?”

“yes, we found these baby books on amazon. it’s called baby university: how to teach your baby about quantum physics and rocket science and the laws of relativity. great stuff. i’ll go get them. don’t go anywhere.”

brian leaves, penelope still nestled on his hip, without another word. anita just shrugs with a grin. she squeezes gwil’s forearm, her thanks evident in the simple touch. then she follows her husband, calling after him with a reminder not to forget the side dishes they’ve brought.

alone in the room, you peer up at gwil. your lashes are heavy with unshed tears; you wind yourself in his arms. resting your head against his chest, you listen to his steady heartbeat.

“i told you they’d like her,” you whisper.

gwil kisses the top of your head. “you sure you don’t want to change the middle name to zoom?”

with a swat to his backside, you guffaw. “gwilym!”

“i still think it’s pretty funny.”

hours later, when you’re sitting on the arm of gwil’s lawn-chair, watching as your family plays a game of charades around the camp fire, rami now the one in possession of the baby, there’s a funny part of you that’s thankful for the extended amount of time at home. without it, this moment––this perfect, happy, shining moment––never would have come to pass. gwil seems to read your mind as he pulls you down to his lap.

“the next kid isn’t gonna have a party like this,” he whispers, his lips moving against the skin behind your ear. “poor sod.”

“next kid? aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”

“maybe. so long as we get lots of practice in-between now and then, i’m happy.”

“you’re insufferable.”

“oh!” he sits up suddenly, jostling you forward as his hand slides over your stomach. “baby kangaroo getting in the mom kangaroo’s pouch!”

joe’s arms fall to his sides, dumbfounded. “i hate you,” he says, slouching to the perimeter of the circle.

gwil turns your head, gives you a quick kiss, then goes to pull the next prompt from the hat. you lean back in the chair and let the night air wash over you. after so long, there isn’t anywhere else you’d rather be.

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #bohemian rhapsody #j writes

81 notes · View notes

sherlollydramoine · 5 years

Text

Which Malek Twin is Better in Bed: An Experiment Part One

Had this idea that was inspired by a few different asks that I received. This is going to be in either two or three parts. Part One is the set up and Rami’s turn.

This is completely unedited so I apologize for the millions of mistakes that are probably plaguing this piece.

Warnings: alcohol use, language, and unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all)

Word Count: 5285

“No, she said that she thought that I’d be the one that was better at cunnilingus,” Sami shot back.

“No she did not. She said it would be me because ‘I’ve got a mouth made to sin’ according to her,” Rami counters with a shrug.

“We’re identical twins asshole we have the same mouth!”

“So, that doesn’t mean that we are both as equally skilled with it,” Rami counters again.

“I’m still better with my hands and dick though. You may have the oral skills but I have other skills that the ladies love. I’ve never had any complaints,” Sami adds, and Rami rolls his eyes.

“Righttttt and who almost got in trouble when I snuck Michelle in back in eleventh grade. She was definitely not being quiet and was not displeased with my performance skills,” Rami says, which elicits an eye roll from Sami this time.

“BOYS!” you holler trying to catch their attention. They’d been arguing the better part of an hour over some girl that they knew and who was better in bed all around. You were fairly certain that whoever this mystery woman was her assessment of the boys was all speculative. You’d known them for years and had never known them to share a woman, then again, you never know they didn’t share all their secrets with you.

They both turn their heads to look in your direction and you shoot them both a look. Picking up your beer off the table and bringing it your mouth you take a long pull from the bottle. Neither one of the boys dared to say a word, until after you had said whatever it was that you had to say.

“Ya know boys there is really only one way to figure out who is better in bed!”

“You aren’t going to try and call all of our exes are you? I’m no- I’m a little worried that some of the reports wouldn’t be accurate and a few of my exes aren’t exactly happy with me. I used to be kind of a dick,” Rami says suddenly, eyes wide looking mildly horrified, while Sami just lets out a short bark of laughter.

“Serve you right for being a dick bro. I’m sure my exes would have nothing but praise for my exemplary skills in the bedroom.”

“As amusing as that would be to contact all of your exes, there is another way to settle this debate once and for all. You both are going to have to find a woman that would be willing to sleep with both of you, separately of course, and get her feedback,” you suggest.

Rami’s brows nearly shoot into his hairline while Sami just lets out another bark of laughter.

“I’m sure Mr. Hollywood here can have no problem finding available pussy but I don’t like the idea of it being some random person.” Sami casually mentions in between sips of his rum and coke.

“Yeah, honestly, I don’t really like the idea of fucking some random chick that only knows me as ‘that famous guy from the robot show’. I’d rather it be someone we know that can give an unbiased opinion. If we went the route of me picking someone up I might win by default just because she got to fuck some famous guy,” Rami states.

“Ram since when have you ever had an issue finding some random pussy to fuck? Everyone knows you are a total fucking player. Besides Mr. Hollywood, you can walk into any bar or restaurant and the pussy will literally find you,” Sami says. Rami just frowns and flips his brother the bird while you try not to choke on your beer.

“Boys! Just stop. As highly entertained as I am by this conversation I think you guys are missing the point. There has got to be some woman on this planet that doesn’t know who you are Rami. Someone that would be willing to experiment,” you start to explain. Stopping for a moment to gather your thoughts and take another sip of your beer when an idea strikes you. Neither of the boys have piped up or offered any other alternative solution so you decide to go ahead and voice your idea.

“Rami you work in Hollywood. Hollywood is known for its lascivious nature, so surely you know someone that knows something about high class escorts. Sure, they are expensive but don’t they get paid a small fortune to buy their silence as well as providing you with a warm wet hole to fuck? Make some phone calls and then explain to her what you want to do. If she agrees, no matter the cost you can have her take notes and then compare them after she has had her turn with both of you.”

“NO!” Both boys shouted in unison with horrified expressions on their faces. The sudden raucous of the raised voices caused a few nearby patrons to look your way out of curiosity.

“Damn boys sorry. It was just a thought. This might be a tougher solution than I thought when I suggested it.”

“So back to square one, who would be the perfect person to do this? I just. It’s kind of nerve wracking though because I don’t want to screw up any relationships with any of our friends. Clearly choosing someone from our pool of mutual friends is probably the best option. They wouldn’t tell anyone about this peculiar situation if they wanted to maintain our friendship.” Sami adds.

For the first time in over an hour silence descends on the table while both boys look deep in thought. Suddenly their heads snap up and they look at each other and nod. Before you know what hit you you had four blue-green eyes staring at you.

“What?” you ask nervously, picking up your beer again to take another sip.

“YN! Come on, you’d be the perfect person to do this. You wouldn’t let something like this interfere with our friendship and you would give us your honest feedback. You wouldn’t lie to either one of us just to inflate our egos.” Rami says, looking hopeful.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea boys. I mean. I’m just. Look at me. I-I-I can, can I think about this?”

“I want to say yes you can, but babe I’m leaving after this next weekend and I’ll be gone for a little over a month. This is kind of a time is of the essence thing,” Rami states with a shrug.

“I’m gonna need something stronger than this,” you mumble, pushing your chair away from the table and heading towards the bar.

Once you were back at your table you began taking large sips of whatever cocktail that the bartender had whipped up for you, as you contemplated what to do. Three cocktails and a bunch of awkward conversation later you looked up at both of them and croaked out, “I’ll do it!”

Both boys grinned their same beautiful smiles as they high-fived each other and you raised a brow.

“I'm cumming over Saturday!” Sami exclaimed and then giggled. “I mean, I’m coming over Saturday!” he giggled again, and his brother just shot him a look while you shook your head.

“Wow! I didn’t realize you were so eager to get to fuck me Sam!” You laugh as you avert your gaze. You send up a silent prayer that you won’t end up regretting agreeing to do this.

“YN what’s your schedule like this week? The weekend won’t work for me because I’m leaving Sunday night so I’ll have to come over sometime during the week. Sami is all yours Saturday and then Sunday morning we can all meet up and you can compare your notes and finally settle the debate about which Malek twin is better in bed.”

“As it were, I’m in between gigs right now so I’m free the whole week so just let me know what time and day work best for you Rami and we’ll meet up. I think it’s best if you come to mine so that way there are no sabotages or interruptions,” you inform him shooting Sami, a look who is just sitting there with a devilish grin on his face.

After a few more drinks the three of you decide to call it a night and the boys drop you off at home where you couldn't help but feel a little drunkenly excited for the coming week. It had been far too long since you’d had any kind of intimate relations with anyone and you were definitely looking forward to getting dicked twice in one week. Of course the twins didn’t know that you’d had the biggest crush on Rami since you were like seven after he’d beat up the boy that was harassing you on the playground. You chuckle at the memory of Rami getting into trouble for fighting.

Your dreams that night were definitely very vivid and extremely pornorgraphic and now you were headed into the new week with the thoughts of that dream floating around your head. You’d sell your soul to make it happen. The thoughts of both of them kneeling on either side of you on your bed jerking themselves off on you, and covering your breasts, stomach and thighs with their cum was enough to make you start salivating and your panties wet.

On Tuesday Rami sent you a text asking if you wanted to meet for dinner later, and you’d agreed. The restaurant he told you that you were going to was definitely the type of place that you’d never have been able to afford on your own but Rami reassured you that it was his treat. His turn to wine and dine you. This is it. It was Rami’s night to show you what he could do in the sack, the dinner was just an excuse for the two of you to talk and become a little more relaxed before you got down to business.

You took your time to prepare for the evening. You’d splurged on a manicure, pedicure and a bikini wax. You weren’t sure of Rami’s preferences for body hair but you felt good. Choosing your favorite red dress from the closet and pulling it on, glancing at yourself in the mirror you smile. You looked damn good. Just as you were swiping your lipstick on you heard the doorbell; sliding your feet into your black pumps that he had gifted you two years ago, you head to the door.

Grabbing your black clutch from the table in your entryway, you swing the door open. Rami was dressed in a nice suit complete with black tie, holding a small bouquet of your favorite flowers.. You can feel his eyes rake up and down your body and he lets out a low whistle.

“You look amazing,” he smiles at you, as he hands you the bouquet. You invited him in for a moment after he reassured you the car wasn’t going anywhere, so that you can go put the flowers in a vase. He followed you into the kitchen, the nervousness rolling off of him in waves. At this point you have no idea who was more nervous about the events of this evening.

“Same could be said for you Malek.”

“Oh this thing. I’ve had it in my closet for ages but haven’t worn it yet,” he rambles nervously.

You get the flowers unwrapped and into the vase full of water and then letting out a soft sigh you turn to him and ask,”Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” was his response. He casually grabs your hand as you make your way back to the door. You turn to lock the door and he puts his hand on your waist as he leads you to the fancy black car that was waiting at the end of your driveway. He opens the door for you and confidently says, “Ladies first.”

You giggle and slide into the car. He follows a few seconds later and then slams the door closed. He looks over at you and takes your left hand into his right one and gives it a soft squeeze.

“So?” you ask.

“So” he responds with a smile.

“Are you-excited for tonight?”

“YN, honestly, it’s all I’ve thought about since Saturday night. I-I-I hope this doesn’t make things awkward because I’m really good at doing that, but I- I - I’m excited. I know that you haven’t been with anyone in a while and so it’s going to be such a pleasure for me to show you what I can do, but also have some fun,” he says, nervously scratching the back of his head with his left hand. He gives your hand another squeeze but you couldn’t help the smile that was slowly spreading across your face.

“Honestly Ram, it’s all I’ve thought about too. I-I-uh- had a dream about this on Saturday night.”

He lets out a nervous chuckle, “I hope I can live up to your dream expectations.”

“I'm more than positive that you will Rami, so don’t be nervous. We can’t both be nervous or we’ll just freak each other out and then this whole thing will have been for nothing.”

You catch his eyes and you both laugh, his hand never leaving yours.

Dinner went by way too quickly as you chatted away happily, ate the best meal you’ve ever had, and imbibed several glasses of champagne that Rami insisted on. He joked that this was a celebration of sorts though you couldn’t figure out exactly what. You just figured the champagne was mostly for the nerves.

The two of you had previously discussed him staying the night in the event that one or both of you got a little intoxicated at dinner and it didn’t make sense for him to have a car on standby. You also didn’t think it was fair to have the car waiting because neither of you were aware of how long you would otherwise be indisposed.

In the car on the way back you sat in the middle this time, with your head resting on his shoulder, while his right hand held your left one firmly, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your hand. Neither of you were conversing just content to be in silence mostly due to nerves. The closer that the car got to pulling up to your house the tension in the air became palpable. Both of you let out a shaky breath as the car came to a stop in front of your place. The butterflies in your stomach had you feeling oddly restless and you were squirming in your seat while Rami’s left leg was bouncing restlessly. Despite all the nerves you were also plagued with arousal. You’d had a crush on him for so long that getting a chance to finally get to find out exactly what he is like in bed is a dream come true for you, though you’d never admit it out loud.

As he had earlier at the restaurant, he got out first this time holding a small overnight bag in one hand, as he held out one hand for you. You take the offered hand and slowly slide out of the car. Once you were fully out of the car he wrapped his right arm around your waist and walked with you to the door. Your trembling hands were a dead giveaway to the jitters you were experiencing, as you reached into your clutch to retrieve your house keys. In your frazzled state you’d accidentally dropped them twice, and Rami just lets out a soft chuckle, bends down to pick up your keys and unlocks the door for you. Stepping through the threshold you let out a breath and unthinkingly kick your shoes off by the door and he follows suit, dropping his bag next to his shoes. Your back turned to him so that you could shut and lock the door, he removes his jacket and haphazardly tosses it over his bag not caring that the expensive fabric will be terribly wrinkled in the morning. Turning back around you catch sight of his beautiful hands working his tie loose and carelessly tossing it on top of his jacket.

Angling your body towards his reaching up to touch his face and then thinking better of it dropping your hand back to your side you open your mouth and barely manage to squeak out,“Soooo.. How do-”

Shock barely registering as your words were suddenly cut off by his lips on yours.This is it. The first kiss ever between the two of you and it was soft and hesitant, nearly awkward as if you were teenagers again; it wasn’t until your hands came up to interlock at the back of his head that he deepened the kiss and you nearly faint in his arms as you moan against his mouth. You blame the champagne for the boldness of both your actions, even though you knew it was going to come to this point eventually. Maybe in this case it was like ripping off a band aid the sooner someone initiated the encounter, the easier it will be to go through with it.

When you finally pulled away from each other both of you were damn near breathless, chests heaving, hair mussed, and pupils blown wide with lust. You both just stand in front of each other for a couple of seconds before instinct took over for both of you and your lips crashed together again. All traces of nerves gone from either of you now as your bodies nearly melted together. You both don’t realize that you’d begun moving, stopping only when your backside came in contact with the back of the couch.

Your whole body felt as if it had been lit on fire and the ache in your core was becoming increasingly unbearable in such an embarrassingly short amount of time. You could feel his arousal pressing against your stomach and all you wanted at that moment was for him to rip your dress off and fuck you senseless. All of your dreams and fantasies could never compare to the reality of actually being intimate with one of your best friends, the one you’d had a crush on for so long.

“Bed?” he asks breathily, as he smiles at you, his lips swollen lips and a delicious shade of red.

You nod in response and without warning you find yourself being lifted into his arms and carried down the hall to the master bedroom. He carries you across the threshold and gently sets you down not hesitating at all as he brings your faces back together reigniting whatever passion had been latent for the few moments that it had taken for him to carry you down the hallway.

You couldn’t help but to feel like he is savoring every moment of this because nothing about this moment is feeling rushed. Your mouths collide again. The passion behind his kisses feels so sincere that you almost allow yourself to feel like this was meant to be, but only allowing that to be a fleeting thought when you remember he is an actor. An award winning, highly skilled actor. This situation was only happening because you’d drunkenly agreed to settle some debate between him and his brother.

Shivering against his touch as his hands slide their way down your shoulders until his fingers come in contact with the zipper on the back of your dress. Begrudgingly pulling your mouth away from his beautifully swollen mouth, God his lips, you could spend eternity kissing those damn lips. It’s almost as if your body is acting purely on instinct because you never realize the moment that your hands glide up his arms, across his shoulders, and then down his chest. Your fingers trembling and struggling with the buttons of his dress shirt. Huffing a little in frustration wanting nothing more than to rip the damn thing to shreds.

His fingers had finished working the zipper down your back and you couldn’t help but to watch the fabric as it fell into a red pool at your feet. He lets out a quiet gasp as he realizes that you are standing before him completely bare. Releasing another huff as you continue to struggle with the buttons of his shirt,he lets out a soft chuckle.

“Let me,” he says, his voice breaking the quiet of the room as he gently pries yours hands away from his shirt. You watch in fascination as his fingers work the buttons of his dress shirt open at lightning speed, you couldn’t help but to wonder what else those hands were capable of. Then again, that was that the whole point of this right? For each of the boys to prove to you just how well rounded their bedroom skills are. The second the last button is open, you damn near go feral and roughly push the fabric off his shoulders. The material stops moving as it is caught at his wrists and you couldn’t stop watching as he pulls his arms the rest of the way out of the sleeves. You just tosses the shirt, as it flutters to the ground, landing at your feet and on top of the red material of your dress.

You bring your eyes back up to his and for a second you feel shy, exposed. The dress you’d been wearing didn’t allow for underwear and you didn’t see any point since you knew that this is how the night was going to end anyway.

You unconsciously begin to cover your chest with your arms when you feel his hands come down and gently remove them.

“Don’t hide from me YN. You are so beautiful, don’t ever hide from me,” he says so lovingly that you almost burst into tears. It had been a long time since anyone had ever called you beautiful.

You can feel his fingers ghost down your sides leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake when his hands settle on your hips. Rami slowly pulls you towards him as he raises his right hand to brush away a stray bit of hair away from your face. His eyes search yours for a quick moment before his lips find yours once again. You could kiss him forever, his mouth was made for it.

Lifting your hands from where they’d be resting down at your sides, you put your hands on his hips and give a little tug bringing your bodies as close together as humanly possible without being intimately connected. Without thinking you skim your hand along his hip bone to the front of his crotch and begin to palm him through his dress pants eliciting a deep moan from him that was so sinful you nearly came undone.

The two of you slowly start dancing your way across the floor of your room towards your bed with lips locked, not stopping until the back of your knees made contact with the edge of your mattress.

You groan in protest when he pulls his mouth away from yours and you frown slightly.

“Lay down for me,” he quietly instructed and there was absolutely no hesitation in your willingness to comply. You weren’t sure what he was going to do, but you were nearly panting in eager anticipation.

His body slides its way up yours as his mouth starts nipping, kissing, and sucking every inch of skin from your jaw to your navel. Feeling his eyes on your face watching your chest heave as your body writhes against his seeking friction. Your eyes widen in shock as you feel his fingers ghost themselves over your center.

"Oh my God babe you are completely soaked for me and I’ve barely touched you," he says voice tinged with shock

You can't help the smile that forms as you watch his face disappear between your thighs. Your hips nearly buck off the bed and a noise that you’ve never made before escapes your lips, when you feel his tongue flick your clit, at the same time that he slides a few fingers into your soaking center. His free hand comes up to rest on your hip, in an attempt to keep your hips still.

“OH GOD” you cry out, and your hands acting on their own accord come down to fist in his curls. You can feel him smirk against you as he hums in delight with the way you’ve been so responsive to his touch in such a short time.

His fingers pump in out of you in time with the movements of your tongue, and you can feel that familiar feeling beginning low in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes screw tightly shut, your body warm and coated with a light sheen of sweat, your chest heaving, and you are babbling a bunch of incoherent nonsense. Unbeknownst to you, your grip tightens exponentially in Rami’s hair and despite the pain radiating through his scalp he never relents.

“Don’t stop Rami. Don’t stop,” you whine and plead.

With another flick of his tongue in combination with the ‘come hither’ motion that his fingers, your legs begin trembling and you're whining out his name. Suddenly that warm feeling spreads from your stomach outward and your body begins to convulse, your thighs snap shut around his head and you can’t stop yourself from grinding into his face. You’d never felt anything like this before, but you are content to ride out this wave of pleasure on Rami’s face.

“Oh God… Oh God.. Oh God…Rami” you moan, repeating it like a mantra.

You can hear him mumbling something against your core and you can feel his tongue lapping at your juices. After what feels like an eternity the convulsing in your body stops and your thighs and body relax. You feel high. You’ve never had anyone make you feel like this and it makes you wonder if your suppressed feelings for him is the culprit for this.

Propping yourself up on your elbows you can see his chin is glistening with your juices as he smiles down at you. Weakly attempting to sit up to pull him towards you. This moment that you’ve been so nervous for all night however he just uses his hands to push you back down into the mattress, gently yet firmly.

You can hear the jangle of his belt buckle coming undone followed by a soft ‘thunk’ as his belt and pants hit the hardwood floor.

“Oh Rami,” you whisper so quietly that you don’t think he heard you. His eyes snap up and lock with yours seconds before his naked body slides its way up yours. His lips capture yours for a soft, sweet kiss and you can taste yourself on his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck trying to coax him to deepen the kiss. The nerves are back,your heart is thundering in your chest, and you aren’t sure what his next move is going to be.

Extracting his lips from yours, he asks if you are ready, both of you take a shaky breath as you make eye contact with him and whisper,”Yes”

His forehead rests against yours for a moment, as you breathe each other in. He lets out a little gasp when you bring your legs up and wrap them around his hips, your sensitive center rubbing against him almost playfully. Your body is in desperate need of something now, something to dull the ache your feel, so you reach down to grab a hold of him. He beats you to it by taking himself in hand and after taking another deep breath he slowly guides himself into you.

You let out a breathy moan as the warm sensation of being filled so completely overwhelms your senses. His eyes are screwed tightly shut, and his breath has hitched. Neither of you move for several seconds just simply basking in the pleasure of being so intimately connected for the first time. It’s a feeling that you only get once with someone.

The moment both of you regain some semblance of control of your breathing his hips begin to move. This was better than any fantasy or dream you’ve ever had. He is in no hurry to finish and you don’t mind, every slow thrust of his hips brings about a new batch of sensations. At some point your fingers had intertwined with his as he kept his hips moving at a slow, but steady pace.

Both of you were breathing heavily, your bodies glistening with sweat. His eyes catch yours as you breathily moan out his name, and you feel as if you are in heaven. He doesn’t make any attempt to increase the pace he’s set.

“Oh Rami... “ you mumble. His forehead comes down to rest on yours, and you lift your chin to place some small kisses to his lips.

“Baby you feel so good,” he whispers into your lips. The intimacy of this moment causes a whole new set of feelings to bubble their way to the surface and you couldn’t help the small tear that rolls down your cheek. You don’t think he noticed as you rock your hips with his.

As slow as the pace that he’d set is, it still didn’t stop his cock from hitting all of the right place inside of you, and after twenty minutes you can feel it building. You know he can sense it because he starts to slightly alter the rhythm of his hips as they move in time with yours.

“Fly with me baby.” he whispers in your ear only moments before your second orgasm of the night washes over you. With your sweaty chests heaving, legs trembling again, and your walls clenching around him it does indeed feel as if you were flying, like your soul has left your body and you were now on some transcendental plane of existence.

You can feel his body tense above yours and his breathing change as he follows you into orgasmic bliss, emptying himself deep within you, as you clench around him. Neither of you say anything but the gentle whispers of each other's names over and over until he collapses on top of you in a sweaty heap. You untangle your fingers from his and bring your hands up to run your fingers through his hair.

In the blissful moments afterwards you realize something and it hits you hard. He is the first man that you’ve ever had sex with that has given you an orgasm. You couldn't help the tears that begin leaking from your eyes on their own accord,

“Oh baby, please tell me that it wasn’t that bad?”he questions, soundly slightly alarmed.

“No-no-no Rami, it’s not that. That was. Oh my God, that was the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s just that. I’ve never had a sexual partner give me an orgasm before, and you’ve given me two in an hour. I’m sorry”

You both hiss when he pulls himself out of you and rolls his body so that he is situated at your side. He pulls you into his arms and gently strokes your hair.

“I’m honored. I love,” he hesitates for a second before continuing,”being able to give my partner an orgasm.”

“Oh Rami- you are-God you are amazing.”

Neither of you spoke again that night. Only sweet kisses and a lot of cuddling until you both fall into a deep sleep feeling completely sated and happy; a tangle of limbs.

( P A R T T W O )

@xmxisxforxmaybe @free-rami @ramimedley @r-ahh-mi @diasimar @txmel @stewielover95 @safinsscar @ladyr0b0t @youthtea @ramisgirl512 @mrhoemazzello @hissom1933 @spacedustmazzello @sassystrawberryk @ramimalekpan @breadnbutternips @itslula1991 @warmommy @imnottiredofgettingoveryou @alottanothing @mezzomercury @theultraviolencefan @the-real-ramimalekpeen @hazeleyedbeth @w0lfglrl17 @adoremalek @rawmemalek @lunasasylum @zodiyack @sasha--1996 @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @anotheronebitesthedick @petites-fantasies

#Rami Malek #Rami Malek Smut #Rami Malek Imagine #Sami Malek #The Challenge

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caprichans · 5 years

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𝙛𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙨 — 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

FAN FIC RECS — MASTERLIST: a compilation of some of the best skz fics written, mostly crafted in the depths of archiveofourown. feel free to browse through these amazing works and send off your kudos to the authors for creating these amazing works!

NOTE: these fics are member + member ships.

SYMBOLS:

[ ♡ ] highly recommended, favorite [ G, PG, PG-13, *E ] audience ratings * E meaning explicit content or R-18; warnings will be explained below [ HOT! ] a new pairing or fic [ OG ] original work

minsung [minho + jisung]

[ ♡ ] verbatim by icemage4739 (PG, violence) – a mafia au wherein minho and jisung meet through an encounter with a rival gang, and they get entangled with tensions between the two gangs.

[ ♡ ] you’re driving me wild by prettyboykook (PG) – wherein minho is a vet and jisung’s an art major who meet because of a stray kitten that got caught in a storm.

the curse of saturdays by indifferentyoongi (PG) – wherein minho needs a fake boyfriend, and changbin happens to know just the guy.

[ ♡ ] broken compass by luway (PG-13, violence, implied/referenced homophobia) – a pirate au wherein jisung is a merchant lost at sea, and minho, a baker, happens to hold on into a precious ornament that belonged to jisung years before he finds him with a brand new family, and a chance at a new start.

to: the lonely hearts club by jisxngie (PG-13, implied self-harm) – wherein lee minho runs the lonely hearts club, a blog where lonely, broken hearts of the world can gather, talking to him about their relationships, their crushes, their heartbreak. jisung crushes on the cheerleading team of his rivalling school, minho, and turns to the lonely hearts clubs for solutions.

on my lips (your laughter is the sweetest) by luway (PG-13) – wherein minho is a deaf barista, and he finds jisung’s lips pretty whenever he has to order a drink at his cafe.

talk too much by bassbot (E, smut) – wherein minho and jisung make out when the power goes out of the dorms.

[ ♡ ] suncity by icemage4739 (PG) – a royalty/tangled au wherein minho, a prince, just wants one night of freedom, and a thief named jisung just so happens to be the one who can bring him the freedom he’s been wanting.

windows to your soul by screwzlooze (PG) – wherein jisung’s a director working on a film, and he needs a person suited for one of the main characters of his film. luckily, he finds the perfect person, but he finds him throwing up in a bathroom stall.

changlix [changbin + felix]

[ ♡ ] falling: a photo essay by lee felix by seuta (G) – a photographer au wherein felix needs a muse for his portfolio and changbin happens to be in the right place at the right time.

[ ♡ ] beats me chewhy (PG-13) – a 1940s/1950s au wherein changbin and felix are both poets in a dark society.

read my lips by jisquish (G) – a high school au wherein changbin is deaf but whipped for a cute boy named felix.

broken compass, young wings (PG) – a soulmate au wherein changbin doesn’t have a soulmate, but finds his next door violinist neighbor, felix, quite interesting.

[ OG ] incandescent smiles (G) – wherein changbin has this habit of smiling at everyone, and felix happens to be a boy with smiles that could light up a thousand suns.

[HOT!] chanlix [chan + felix]

[HOT!] [ OG ] talking to the moon (PG, angst) – wherein the moon finds two soulmates from australia talking to it, and decides to bring them together in seoul

seungjin [hyunjin + seungmin]

[ ♡ ] blessings wait by seenstealers (PG-13, underage drinking, swearing, making out) – a hogwarts au wherein hyunjin and seungmin have been in the same group of friends for years, but have never spoken to each other until one day, when hyunjin asks seungmin to tutor him.

[ ♡ ] when we cross at intersections by orphan_account (PG-13) – wherein hyunjin’s a part-time waiter and seungmin’s an idol that meet up again after several years at hyunjin’s part-time job.

something in the water by iridessence (PG) – a siren au wherein hyunjin is in australia for vacation and he finds himself falling for siren seungmin.

seungbin [seungmin + changbin]

[ ♡ ] friends and foes and princes by hero_hero (PG) – a royalty/magic au wherein hyunjin and seungmin decides to switch identities and mess up an entire kingdom.

[HOT!] unsuspecting by straycty (E, smut) – wherein changbin had a crush on his neighbor, chan, until he saw his brother.

[HOT!] heartbeats accelerating series by bitsori (PG) – wherein hyunjin is getting married, and seungmin & changbin get stuck on a trip together + minho and jisung make an important announcement, and it makes seungmin & changbin rethink where they are in their relationship

hyunmin [hyunjin + minho]

[ ♡ ] sub rosa by hero_hero (PG-13, heavy angst) – wherein all hyunjin wants to do is get his boyfriend, minho, to pay attention him. it appears to be harder than hyunjin thought it would be.

woochan [woojin + chan]

[ ♡ ] blushing, baking, and balconies by wonpilsdimple (PG) – a neighbors au wherein woojin sings outside his balcony sometimes, but he finds somebody else singing back.

seunglix [seungmin + felix]

what the hell is your problem, kim seungmin?! by orphan_account (PG) – a high school au wherein seungmin is an avid daydreamer who often dreams on winning the the love of a certain someone named lee felix.

ot9 [poly ships]

[ ♡ ] what doesn’t change by layni1771 (PG-13, suicide, murder, homophobia, warnings added at the end of each chapter) – a reincarnation au wherein minho falls in love with 8 people in 8 different lifetimes.

when you love someone by krucxa (PG-13, depression, self-harm, suicide attempt) – a soulmate au wherein changbin dreams of whatever his soulmate is doing in their daily life, and it isn’t good. thankfully, hyunjin’s presence is enough to calm him down, but the dreams keep on replaying on changbin’s mind and he knows that it’s happening again.

[ ♡ ] jeongin’s foolproof guide to getting out of bad dates by percentage (G) – wherein jeongin has his fair share of bad dates, and [not so] luckily, his friends step in as his jeongin bad date protection squad.

[ ♡ ] new boii™ and boiifriends™ by ashtin – a textfic au wherein everybody is just heads over heels for the new boy in town, felix.

NOTE: just because there are [ ♡ ] ‘s does not mean that the recs are my least favorite! all of these fics are really recommended to read. it’s completely fine if you don’t want to read it because of the warnings. :)

i will add more as i encounter some more fics that i will read.

#muki.rec #masterlist #fic rec masterlist #fic recommendations #stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #bang chan #kim woojin #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #js jeongins foolproof guide is such a funny book pls read it

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

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Ducktales Reboot Reviews: The Dangerous Chemistry of Gandra Dee!

Fenton faces some of his greatest challenges yet: Gizmoduck’s soaring popularity and the possiblity of amour... oh and the return of his arch enemy but that’s a standard tuesday for a superhero. It’s a Date, don’t let him trick you noooo, under the cut.

I have to admit something first: I WAS going to cover the other two fentoncentric episodes before I got to this one, as a build up to this weekends episode. The problem though was I realized that this week’s episode is, via word of god, going to cover WHY Gyro hates Fenton , and thus I really can’t dig into Gyro’s behavior in both eps, especially Who Is Gizmoduck? where despite his rational fears of having funding cut, he’s still an uttershithead to fenton and I feel it’d be better served if I waited a little and did the ep sometime after saturday. So with that bit of expostion you probably didn’t need out of the way: Dangerous Chemistry! This one is a personal faviorite of mine, to the point that when I was bored a week or two ago I watched this one just for fun, and probably will again. That’s not why i’m reviewing it: even if I hadn’t I would rewatch it and planned to for the ones I was going to review, it’s just dumb luck. And part of that is Fenton is one of my faviortes: Lin Manuel Miranda really brings his a game to the character, and the crew really fleshed him out, making him a really likeable, fun, and relatable awkward dork. Another reason is one that should be obvious if you saw my comics reviews when I in vain tried to review each dawn of x comic on a weekly basis before throwing up my hands at the sheer volume: I fucking love super heroes, and Who is Gizmoduck and this very episode are very good superhero stories that still fit well into the ducktales universe, as is the darkwing debut “The Duck Knight Returns!”. And finally the episode also has Huey in a major role and I love my red boy. So with all that stuff out of the way I can dive into the ep itself. This one, as you probably know but I do like me my context, takes place in the second half of season. While Fenton did show up earlier for fellow instant classic “The 87 Cent Solution!”, he��s otherwise been absent this season. My honest theroy is, rather than Lin being busy, which while he sure as hell is he still squeezes the show in, it’s more a simple fact that season 2 is pretty damn stuffed: looking back at the episode count almost EVERY ONE ties into one of the major arcs of the season (Della’s journey home/struggle to fit into her kids life/ the moonvasion, glomgold’s bet with scrooge and louie inc), and those that don’t either bring in major new characters like the Cablleros or Drake, or touch on previous arcs: Last Christmas! touching on Dewey missing his mom while she’s still missing. Lena’s episodes bringing her back to the world of the living/introducing her sister, and then resolving her fear of magica for now and revealing where Magica’s been, and this ep checking in on fenton. There was just a LOT to do and get through, and Gandra was really the only time sesntive thing Fenton wise they had to absolutley do this season. So while it sucks, I do understand why they did it this way, I do see why and hold no ill will over it. And to the crew’s credit they used the fact Fenton had been absent cleverly and had a valid reason why we hadn’t seen him outside of one breif apperance: he’s busy. Simple as that. He’s been superheroing all this time: when we catch up with him he’s outright called burnt out by a c-list weather villian who looks like dr.doofnschmritz but lacks his awkward charm. He even uses the same pun twice. It’s also logical: his literal JOB is to be a superhero, it’s what he’s paid for, and given Duckberg seems ground zero for lunatics, it’s only natural ther’es a bakers dozens with techno gimmicks and costumes floating around trying to beat him up. He’s naturally exausted and i’ts made worse by two factors: His alter ego being all over the news, so even when h’es off work he can’t escape work, and being unable to do science. And both are clever delimas: a lot of the usual superhero issues are non existant for fenton: while he’s bad at hiding his identity, the only person he really has to hide from is his mom, who we later learn at the end of the season already knows and has come around to it. His job isn’t in remote jeapordy because Gizmoduck IS the job, while he still has full acess to a lab to do the science work he’s always wanted. But he’s starting to see the price for doing the right thing: He’s spent so much time as Gizmoduck.. Fenton has nothing of his own. No time to do science, only two friends, and as a result is exausted and burnt out and yearning for a break. So thankfully he’s taking one, and in another use of “time has moved on a bit because we didn’t have time for Fenton this season” he and Huey have gone from superhero and biggest fan to best friends. But I let it slide, partly because again the season is overstuffed dand i’ll likelky delve into that more when I get to this seasons arcs at some point, and mainly beause the two have a great dynamic: Huey is supportive, just wants his friend to be okay, and meshes with fenton perfectly: Their both big nerds who people tend ot ignore who get overly excited about science. But Hueys more openly confident while Fenton clearly lacks it at times. It’s a nice eb and flow I hope to see more of.

HE and Huey are hanging out to do science and stuff, with webby tagging along because why not, and I absolutly love the gag of gizmoduck passing by, Webby not noticing at all and only finding out Fenton and Gizmoduck are the same person because Huey makes a rather big deal abotu the fact Gizmoduck just passed by and Webby is really smart and likes solving shit. So we quickly get the rest of our setup: At the elctronics store, Fenton has a meet cute (which the juinor woodchuck guidebook of course has an entry on. ) with Gandra Dee, played by guest acress Jameela Jamil, better known from the good place and being the only one to point out “hey emil hirsch beat the shit out of the woman what the fuck” when quinten Tarantino cast him in the otherwise amazing film “Once Upon a Time In Hollywood”, who does a great job here. The two have some romantic tension as she calls fenton a suit and what not, he fires back he is good at sceincing and they schedule what may or may not be a date... with Fenton unaware that Gandra is a spy hired by mark beaks to get the gizmoduck passowrd and use her nanites merged with gizmotech to boost his strength. As you do. The resulting episode is really damn good: Starting in the obvious place, Fenton and Gandra have a reall good dynamic: besides the obvious oppsoites attract thing: the modernized nerutoic nerd and the rebllious scientest there’s the nice contrast in who they work for: Sure Fenton works for a billionare who DOES use some of his and gyro’s work for fairly self serving things (and I didn't realize the universal solvant was a rosa thing first time around, I learned it between viewings, but it’s a nice mythology gag), but it’s been shown as far back as the pilot that’s he’s more than willing ot help all of duckberg, even if it makes a profit. WHy WOULD he stop gyro or fenton’s research for any reason? He funnels a ton of money into them simply beause he knows for every dozen failures something useful will come out of it and at most simply wants more treasure hunting gear, stuff both can whip up easily and for Fenton to spend most of his time as defender of the city, something Fenton wanted anyway. He’s a good boss... while the billionares Gandra’s working with, Bradford as we learned later and beaks in this episode.. are self serving scumbags who only want innovation for world domination and personal validation. By refusing to have ties with or trust anybody or put in the legwork to find an employer who would give her mostly freedom, she wants complete freedomf or her work in exchange for taking money from truly awful people. She’s no freer than fenton is and her hypcoricy is obvious, without making the character terrible in any way. As the kingpin once said in spiderman the animated series “the best strings are invisble”. While Gandra is well aware of who she’s working for she refuses to see the irony or the possible harm in her actions , and it’ll be intresting to see where her charcter goes from ehre. As for Beaks, he’s a FAR better threat here than in the past episodes: I didn’t MIND him being a joke villian, though I was horribly disapointed, and he will likely be super dated eventually... but here it finds a nice ballance: While he’s still a whiny manchild, the breaking into the lab sequence is utterly delightful and shows that he’s NOT harmless. He’s at his best, like glomgold, when he’s either off to the side comedic relief, or a mixture of genuinely threatining and utterly moronic. His drinking 80 pounds of senstive chemicals turns him into the hulk and the resulting fight scnees are great, as is his confusion upon taking huey and webby hostage “I have your kids.. I think.. I don’t know how this family works” and his cries of “whose the looser now coach dad” are both funny and offerd our first peak into why he’s so screwed up. And his defeat while rediculous is clever, using his love of fame and his phone against him. Overall a much better showing than the past that so far has kept up into season 3: even if his plan backfired there and was for goofy reasons, it was here too, it only fell apart because he hired someone who hated him and underestiamated how much he’d pissed off graves last time.

As for Fenton himself, the episod eis a great showcase, besides the before issues his manuvering around both the obvious date the kids set up for him (more on that in a second), and his genuine chemsitry and contrast with gandra are a delight.. as his his dad’s lesuire suit. On top of that the scenes wher ehe chews gandra out are a great bit of acting from Lin manuel Miranda, the hurt and fury in his voice coming through great. To finish it out Huey is a delight this episode, showing himself to be a suprisingly good romantic for his age, serously violet won the lottery with this one, and while overenthsastic, i’ts still sweet and his friendship with fenton is genuinely heartwarming, as is what has to be the best line of the episode besides the beaks one above Huey: Fenton’s going to be devistated! Webby: (Annoyed) Or kidnapped by spies! Huey: (Dead serious) TWO BAD THINGS COULD HAPPENS! It’s a sweet dyanmic overall and the cherry on top of an utterly fantastic episode. Hopefully the momentum keeps up going into saturday. Until then, later days. Speaking of which.. WHY ISN’T THE WEEKENDERS ON DISNEY PLUS. God I shouldn’t be able to keep thinking of shows that are missing. Anyways, once again later days. P.S. I almost forgot Launchpads great bit listing off all his exes and confriming that he’s probably bi. It was great.

#ducktales #ducktales reboot reviews #the dangerous chemistry of gandra dee #lin manuel miranda #disney #gizmoduck #Fenton Crackshell Cabrera #huey duck #webby vanderquack #mark beaks #josh brenner #jameela jamil #gandra dee

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