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ggomos-maribat · 1 year

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2 | in which Damian Wayne wakes up to an odd breakfast

Part 2 of No Mr. Wayne You Can't Adopt Me! | Masterlist

Saturday. Bruce's only schedule for the day? An interview.

But inside the Wayne manor.

It wasn't Marinette's first visit to the house, but she still couldn't get used to how humongous it was. She readjusted the box in her hands and the coat hanging from her arm as Bruce himself welcomed her at the front door and guided her to the drawing room.

A drawing room that indeed looked expensive but was extremely messy at the moment.

"Where's Alfred?" she asked.

"He's out for groceries and a few other errands," replied Bruce, which explained the state of the room. Which also explained the Batarangs and a utility belt lying out in the open which Bruce didn't seem to notice.

Marinette inwardly sighed one of her many sighs for the day. Her boss was lucky she came over early in the morning on a weekend. She wondered how his identity hadn't been discovered by the public yet. She took the chance to give Bruce a once-over to examine his outfit: polished shoes, blue blazer, blue tie, hair gelled to perfection.

"Is it too formal?" he asked hesitantly.

"They will only take one photograph of you but you have to at least leave the impression that you're not 'all work, no play' in your own house." She crossed her arms. "May I suggest your waffle-knit sweater with a collared dress shirt underneath and light-colored pants?"

What is that expression . . . is Bruce actually pouting?! "Yes, okay. I'll change now."

Just as he was about to turn around and retreat upstairs, Marinette stopped him. "Mr. Wayne, may I tidy up this space for our guests?"

He appeared a shade paler, pinned under her stern gaze. "Yes, of course. Thank you Marinette."

And off he scurried to his bedroom.

With his permission, the PA got to work. Ms. Sinclair and her assistant will be here at eight-thirty. We have around fifteen minutes to prepare. She picked up the papers scattered on top of and underneath the coffee table, stored away the blankets draped on the chairs, and safely hid the Batarangs and other identity-incriminating objects behind some knick knacks on the shelves. Armed with a duster and a lint roller, she moved around to clear the cushions of fur and get rid of the dirt between spaces. Finally, she pulled the curtains open to give a lively view of the courtyard (and to introduce some much-needed sunlight into the area).

When Bruce returned downstairs wearing the outfit from her recommendation, he blinked and looked around as if it was his first time seeing the room. "This looks much better," he hummed in approval.

Marinette topped it off by placing a flower centerpiece on the coffee table. "Anything else you need me to do, Mr. Wayne? Should I sit in during the interview?"

"No thank you, I have another request for you." Bruce's eyes flickered towards the kitchen. "You see, some of my children might already be awake at this time and Alfred's not around to take care of breakfast."

". . . I don't believe this fits my job description."

"I'll add to your pay this month."

"I'll get started on breakfast right away, sir. Any preferences?"

"Anything will do."

Marinette nodded and immediately put away all the cleaning equipment as the doorbell rang. Bruce told her that he would be the one to greet Ms. Sinclair, so she headed for the kitchen instead.

***

Upon entering the new room, Marinette noticed that there was already an occupant inside. A short-haired woman sat on top of a barstool on the kitchen island, cradling a mug. Marinette halted in her tracks, bowing slightly.

"Hello. Miss . . . Cassandra." She smiled softly. "I'm Marinette, Mr. Wayne's assistant. I don't believe we've met before. Your father's currently entertaining a Gazette reporter at the moment and asked me to cook breakfast."

Cassandra, or Cass as Bruce would often refer to her, tilted her head. "Nice to meet you."

Marinette unhooked an apron near the refrigerator. "Would you like me to make you another cup of tea?"

Cass' eyebrows raised, perhaps surprised at how perceptive she was. She gazed down at her mug, thinking, and met Marinette's eyes again. "Sure."

With a one-month raise in mind, Marinette prepared the teapot and collected the ingredients. Thanks for not telling me which children are home, she frowned as she went over the contents of the pantry. Very helpful, Mr. Wayne. She settled on playing it safe: simple but numerous choices.

"Have you got any preferences for breakfast, Miss Cassandra?" She asked as she tipped the teapot over Cass' mug. Cass merely shook her head 'no'.

"Very well."

Marinette had just preheated the pans when footsteps sounded. In rushed another Wayne kid, slinging a bag over his shoulder.

"Good morning, Mr. Thomas," she chirped. "Would you like coffee, tea, or juice?"

Duke looked like he was caught off guard seeing her there. He looked back and forth between her and Cass, eyes filled with confusion. His sister only motioned for him to reply to Marinette.

"Uuh, coffee please," he responded, walking up to a barstool to sit down.

"I'll brew a cup for you right away." Marinette took the empty coffee maker, suspiciously containing remnants of the drink. Mr. Drake's doing, no doubt. "Mr. Wayne had me get started on breakfast since Mr. Pennyworth isn't here at the moment."

"Ohh," said Duke. "Marinette, right? It's a Saturday today though. Bruce called you in just to make breakfast? He's incompetent but not that incompetent, you know."

"He does require my presence for the interview he's doing." Marinette motioned towards the direction of the drawing room. "I have nothing to do while he's currently conversing with Ms. Sinclair, so he thought I could cook some food for you."

"Pretty sure his main problem was breakfast though."

Marinette slowly nodded in agreement, stirring the contents of one pot. "I didn't object because he promised to compensate me fairly."

"As he should." Duke brought out his phone to check his reflection on the camera. "By the way, do either of you have any tips for an internship interview?"

Cass shrugged and patted his hand. "You'll do well."

"Really? I almost couldn't sleep last night because of it." Duke huffed. "Then Tim told me to just wing it after I caught him making coffee."

Marinette contributed two words while still moving around to cook: "Your cologne."

Duke sniffed himself. "Does it smell bad?"

"It's best to go for a more subtle scent." She wrinkled her nose and momentarily reached for her bag to toss him a bottle that she brought. "Here, this might be more suitable."

"You brought men's cologne?" Duke stared at the glass sprayer in disbelief.

"You'd be surprised at how many things Mr. Wayne unexpectedly needs." The reply drew out a little laugh from Cass.

Duke took a whiff and lit up. "I'll go change and put this on. Thanks, Mars!"

As he raced back up the stairs, Marinette checked the time. She untied her apron, poured out four cups of coffee, and prepared them with differently: the first two (one for Duke), she used only creamer and sugar; in the second one, she added just the right amount of sugar; and in the last, a vanilla flavoring, tower of whipped cream, and a dash of cinnamon. Next, she quickly set up the three drinks on a wooden tray, plus three plates of pastries from the box she brought.

Thank kwamis Alfred has a good kitchen arrangement system, she thought.

"Please excuse me for a moment." She told Cass as she picked up the tray.

She was granted impeccable timing when she slipped into the drawing room—Bruce and Ms. Sinclair had paused their interview, with the latter's eyes immediately gleaming in delight upon seeing the snacks and drinks. Meanwhile, Sinclair's assistant-slash-photographer gawked.

"Excuse me, here's some refreshments." Marinette beamed at the journalist, setting down the tray. "Mr. Wayne picked these pastries just for you, miss. I hope you enjoy them."

"Goodness!" Excitement was practically radiating from the woman. "Aw, Bruce you didn't have to!"

Ms. Sinclair wasn't a difficult person to please. A quick research told Marinette that she had a sweet tooth. A much deeper (totally not borderline stalker-ish) research revealed her favorite coffee blend and pastry shop.

Marinette definitely read a hint of surprise from Bruce, even if he did a good job of concealing it. Because Bruce, in fact, didn't prepare the pastries and is seeing them for the first time. He directed a charming smile at Ms. Sinclair. "It's the least I can do. Please enjoy."

"Such a dear," the woman gushed. "Now I might do three pages of the magazine for you, not two!"

And when Bruce glanced at Marinette, she sent him a look saying 'you better thank the heavens you have me.'

***

When she returned, Duke was back, happily sipping his coffee but along with him was a newcomer.

The youngest son.

Marinette had met Damian Wayne only a few times before and only when Bruce was around. Bruce had introduced him fleetingly, so she had only managed to exchange simple greetings with him, not anything more.

But despite their lack of interaction, Marinette knew a lot about Damian from Bruce's ramblings during lull time at work. He'd tell her 'Damian tried to adopt another cat', 'I think Damian's mad at me', 'How can I get Damian and Jason to bond together?', 'Damian threatened to go back to his mother if I don't agree to let Titus come on vacation with us', or 'I think Damian just used a slang on me. What does this mean?'

Marinette would give her best advice to her boss during those times, but she couldn't help but wonder if the resolutions ever worked with Damian since Bruce never relayed follow-ups.

"Good morning, Damian," she greeted, "Breakfast is almost ready. Would you like a drink?"

"Thomas filled me in." He set his bag on top of the counter. "Father really shouldn't be calling his PA for this. And no, I don't want a drink. I have to go soon."

Duke eyed his brother's outfit. "You have school today?"

"I asked my art teacher if I can come in today to work on my painting as we're not allowed to take our artworks home." Damian replied.

"No need to come in on time," Cass pointed out. "Come eat."

Damian narrowed his eyes at the pans on the stove. "I cannot eat—"

"Vegan kimchi fried rice and tofu scramble," Marinette said, "I cooked something else for you."

". . . Tt. Fine." And he begrudgingly took his seat.

The three siblings watched as Marinette served a feast—the delicious aroma of breakfast wafted around the room as she carefully plated the dishes in perfect portions. She didn't know if her cooking was on par with Alfred's, but she should at least impress them for the good pay she was getting from Bruce. She set down the plates in front of them with a simple 'bon appétit!'

Duke shoveled up the food quickly. "This is so good!" He took another bite.

To this, Cass nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, Damian quietly chewed his meal, paying no compliments.

But he gazed up at Marinette. "You're not going to eat?"

"Oh, no thank you," Marinette declined, "I wouldn't want to impose, and I already ate before I came here."

It was a full-on lie. It was taking all of her strength to not let her stomach growling be heard. Although she was inside Bruce's home, she still had to act professional. Luckily, Damian only raised an eyebrow skeptically and continued eating.

***

"Is there anything else you need, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce seemed stunned for a second after seeing Marinette hand a packed lunch to Duke before he rushed out. He even taste-tested her cooking and remarked how delicious it was.

He blinked at her. "Nothing else. You've done so much already, thank you."

"I should be going home then."

"Wait." Bruce spun around to face his son. "Damian, you're heading out too. Can you drive Marinette home?"

"But Father—"

"I can commute on my own, it's no problem at all." Marinette stepped forward.

"Her residence is on your way to school," Bruce insisted. "And please let him take you, Marinette, as thanks for breakfast."

When her gaze landed on Damian, he didn't seem too happy about it. But how could she deny a free ride?

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne." She bowed slightly. "I'll see you on Monday."

***

Suffice to say, the walk to the car and most of the ride was full of awkward silence. Marinette tried not to look at Damian every second or so. She went over her mental notes about him. Damian Al Ghul Wayne. The current Robin, who's attending university. Likes animals, broody, formerly extremely violent. If she remembered correctly, he was around her age.

"Take the next right over there and my apartment's in the second building." She offered a small smile. "Thank you for the ride again."

He didn't reply.

He only followed her directions and stopped in front of her building. As a last attempt at communication, Marinette took the box with pastries left over and held it out to him.

"Here, you can take these last two. They're vegan." Marinette watched as his gaze dropped down to the box before lifting up to meet hers.

"No thank you. You should have them instead—you're starving, aren't you?" He tapped his fingers on the wheel. "Besides, you're the one who bought that."

Her eyes widened. Had she been obvious the whole time? "Um, er . . ." She retracted her arms. "Okay. Thank you."

She unclasped her seatbelt and sneaked another glance at him. She was close to opening the door when she stopped. "Hey, can you take off your seatbelt for a sec?"

He frowned. "What?"

"It won't take long, Mr. Wayne."

"I don't—" He cut himself off and sighed, most likely remembering one of their first encounters. He'd ask her to call him Damian, not 'Mr. Wayne' like his father, so she'd only use his last name when he wasn't being cooperative.

Damian did as she said and she reached over to undo his tie. He didn't say anything as she redid the lopsided knot, tying his necktie neatly and smoothing over the creases.

She didn't notice how small the distance between them had become until she felt his breath on her forehead.

"There you go." She pulled away and opened the door. "Alfred usually helps you with that, doesn't he?"

"Yes," he mumbled.

She smiled. "Good luck with your painting, Damian."

Again, silence. But Marinette pretended not to notice him fumbling with his seatbelt as she got out of the car.

#maribat fic #maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #dc x miraculous #NMWYCAM #PA!Marinette

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drvmekoo · 2 years

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regroup | jeon jungkook [part two]

summary: drifting away from your best friend is never an easy thing to deal with. its a good thing a very important project is forcing you both to regroup

➳ pairing: jungkook x reader (f)

➳ genre: college au, fluff, angst, smut (eventually)

➳ rating: 18+

➳ warnings: none! just a lot of fluff

➳ wc: 1.4k+

➳ author's notes: i hope you all enjoy part two! i'm sorry it took so long to get here. school and work have been kicking my ASS. but anyways! let me know what you think!

PROLOGUE | PART ONE | PART TWO

“Now who’s the late one, huh?” Jungkook raised his eyebrows as you plopped your bag down on the seat next to him. You rolled your eyes as he teased you, raising his eyebrows at your irritated expression.

“Don’t start Jeon.” You opened up your laptop in a hurry, cringing as you read the time. You were only ten minutes late but in your eyes, it was wasted time. You two still had nothing to show for since you got paired together and the due date was creeping closer and closer.

“I totally forgot that my building was doing a maintenance check today and so I had to stay there for hours while they checked doors and toilets and ugh…anyways.”

For a moment, it went quiet between you both. You looked up at the man sitting across from you as he scanned your face, brow furrowed.

Your own eyebrows knitted together “What? Do I have something on my face?” You pulled your phone out to check your reflection. Nothing seemed out of place.

“No no, I’m just….did you get to eat?” he said lowly.

You thought back to the manic morning, trying to wonder if you did eat that banana that was left on your side. Your tummy rumbled at the thought.

I guess that was your answer.

“Uh no, not yet but, I’ll just get something later.” You opened up your notes “We need to get a move on.”

Jungkook shook his head “No, absolutely not. You need to eat. It’s already 3:15. You must be starving.” The scrape of his chair echoed across the library. “Give me 2 seconds.”

Before you could protest, Jungkook sprinted towards the cafeteria. ‘What a procrastinator.’ You thought to yourself, sighing as you were left sitting at the empty table. After you quickly skimmed through your unfinished plan, outlining the key ideas of your project, you felt your mind drift to yesterday's weird fiasco in your room.

Jungkook seemed to change in your presence. Acted like nothing ever happened between you two. Acted like he never abandoned being your best friend.

But why?

Before you could think any deeper, the man himself had arrived back. He placed a muffin and a coffee cup in front of you.

“Oh, Jungkook thank you…but you know I don’t drink coffee so-” You began to say, inching the cup back towards him. He shushed you.

“Of course I know that dummy! Open the lid and smell it!” He took the liberty for you as he once again sent it back to you and opened the lid of your cup. Instantly the aroma of chai hit your senses.

The smell of cinnamon and creamy milk right away puts you at ease. This was your favourite drink and you’d pick it every time without fail.

And Jungkook had remembered. Not only that you didn’t drink coffee. But also that you’d only drink one other thing.

Your heart squeezed at the thought. “Thank you, Kook.” you beamed lightly.

He nodded, sweetly smirking. “No big deal. Now eat before you fade away!”

After taking a few bites of your muffin and drinking some more tea, you finally decided to get to it. Time is of the essence after all.

A couple of hours went by. Finally, both of you had achieved a hard outline of what your assessment was focusing on. The stress that was once looming over you was somewhat gone as you scrolled through both your (and now Jungkook’s) notes

“This is great! With this, it’ll make our lives so much easier when writing up the paper!”

The excited tone in your voice now echoed across the library. The time was 7 pm. Only a few students still worked silently at their desks, but it was nowhere near the mayhem it was earlier on.

You also hadn’t realised in the depths of your study that the sky outside had also gone dark. You sighed “Okay well, this seems like a good place to stop.”

“Oh thank god!” Jungkook groaned. You rolled your eyes as you packed up your stuff.

“Hey, don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it! You were really getting into it at the end.”

Jungkook laughed as he slid his jacket on “No, I was honestly just enjoying how focused your face gets.”

“What do you mean?”

He pointed to the gap between his eyebrows “Your eyebrows scrunch together right here, it's really cute.”

Your breath hitched again at the sudden compliment as you both walked out into the evening air.

“Haha very funny.” you stopped, waiting to say goodbye before you can make your way home. “Well, I better get going-”

“Woah woah, what are you doing?”

You paused “I’m…going home?”

Jungkook chuckled “You really think I’m gonna let you walk home by yourself? What kind of man do you think I am Y/n?”

“O-Oh Kook…I’m fine it’s just down the street-”

He shushed you once again, gently taking your hand and guiding you towards your dorm. The sudden touch of his skin against yours made your face heat up.

“You know, you shush me a lot.” You huffed as you walked alongside him, taking your hand out of his gentle grasp.

“Well, you talk a lot.”

“Did that hurt?” you broke the silence as you both quietly walked along the street

“Did what hurt?”

You pointed to his big sleeve tattoo. While you were working earlier, you found yourself entranced and constantly looking at art that covered his entire arm. He himself caught you a few times, smirking and telling you to “take a picture, it should last longer..!”

“Ah, I was wondering when you were finally gonna bring this up.” He smirked now once again.

You tutted “You know what? I’m sorry I asked, just forget about it.” You went to walk ahead in a strop, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back

“Hey no, I’m kidding.” he chuckled “It hurt a little, but the more times I went to get it finished, the more it was bearable you know?”

“You had to go back more than once?”

He nodded “Of course? You think this took only one sitting? I’d be there for hours!”

“I don’t know! I’m not a tattoo expert!” you shrugged “What did your mom think of it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well the last time I saw her, she was ADAMANT that tattoos were a no-go.” You laughed lightly at the memory

Jungkook laughed alongside you, hands in his pockets. “Ah that. Well, let’s just say she wasn't happy! And by ‘wasn’t happy’ I mean on the brink of fainting.”

You laughed harder “Oh my god! For real?”

“No joke, my dad was ready to catch her.”

You both burst into another fit of laughter as Jungkook kept adding more to the story.

“Wow, I miss your mom.” you sighed as you wiped a stray tear from your eye. “She’s great.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled “She misses you too.”

A wake of awkwardness swept over the two of you once again. You thanked the universe above that you were now coming up to your dorm.

“Well.” You started, stopping at the entrance “Next time you speak to her, tell her I miss her cooking.”

He looked down at his feet “Will do. And hey, next time you speak to your mom tell her I miss her baking.”

“Whenever you need her cookies, be sure to get in touch.” You partly joked. He nodded lightly, leaving the two of you to glance at just each other for a split second

Before the silence could make its way into the conversation again you quickly broke out pf your trance “Thank you for walking me home.”

He shrugged lightly “Ah no big deal, It’s the least I could do for standing you up yesterday.”

“Apology accepted.” You smiled

Jungkook lingered for a split second. “So…meet at the same time tomorrow?”

While your brain (and a little bit of your heart) was screaming at you to say yes, you had other priorities you had to attend to.

“Oh, I can’t tomorrow. I have Joon’s birthday dinner tomorrow. He couldn't celebrate it on his actual birthday because of exams so he’s throwing it now.”

At the sudden mention of Namjoon, Jungkook’s jaw ticked “Ah, gotcha.” he mumbled dryly.

Your brows furrowed “What’s up with you?”

“Uh, nothing. Thanks for today. Text me when you’re next free okay? At another dry response, he turned on his heels and walked away towards his own dorms, leaving you standing at your doorstep by yourself.

What just happened?

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loorain · 1 year

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Sims 4 Fontenot Legacy - Beach Day!

As has become sort of a reacurring family ritual, the adults at the Legacy House pack up the kiddos for a little fun under the Sulani sun! Yes, it's a beach day once more for the Fontenot Legacy!

The family is in full relaxation mode! Sabrina helps Juno build a sandcastle, Scarlett gets some knitting time in, Robin goes for a dip in the water, and Sigrid watches as the girls chat and play with each other. Additonally, Sabrina's friend Nyla also comes along for the trip, in need of her own beach day. The two also plan to discuss arrangements for Lakshmi's wedding, but first Nyla needs some tanning time 😆

In true Audrey nature, she manages to make a new friend with another little boy enjoying a beach day. This results in them working on a sabdcastle together. In true Alma nature, she heads off doing her own thing 😆

Sigrid: That little one yours?

???: Yeah. Milo.

Sigrid: Audrey's the one in the blue. Her twin Alma is in the yellow.

???: Twins, huh? I'm sure they're giving you a run for your money. Little Milo runs me ragged all on his own.

Sigrid: They're definitely full of energy, but thankfully I have help. Sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Sigrid.

???: Coty. Nice to meet you. Nice tats, by the way.

Sigrid: Thanks! Like yours, too.

Robin watches Alma playing in the water, but that doesn't mean he doesn't notice the guy talking to his fiancée.

Sigrid: So, is Milo's mother around?

Coty: Nope, just me and him. Moved out to the islands from the reserve not so long ago. My father was from these lands. Felt it best to raise Milo in a place like this.

Sigrid: That's really admirable. I'm sure Milo loves the arrangement, too. Must be nice living right next to the ocean for a little one like him.

Coty: He's taken to it, for sure. What about you?

Sigrid: Me?

Coty: Who's helping you? Two kids is no easy feat.

Sigrid: Oh, uh, I have my fiancé and his family.

Coty: Oh, fiancé?

Sigrid: Yeah, we've been together a long time. Highschool sweethearts. We've had a long engagement on account of us getting pregnant. We plan to get married soon, finally.

Coty: Ah, well, many congratulations to you.

Sigrid pauses, noticing the faintest twinge in Coty's mouth as he gives his congrats. She clears her throat.

Sigrid: Ahem, uh, thanks. Well in any way, looks like we'll be seeing more of each other. Seems like our kids are attached now.

Coty: I agree. I've never seen Milo take to a new person quite so quickly. Audrey's special.

Sigrid: She sure is. Both of them are. They're twins, but both very unique. Apple of their parents' eyes. We're a happy little family.

Coty: I know the feeling. Milo is my world. Well, let me give you my number so we can arrange a playdate sometime. Wanna let the kids spend as much time together as possible.

Sigrid: Ah, right, thanks.

Coty: Well enjoy your beach day, Sigrid.

Sigrid: Likewise.

Everyone's having a great time at the beach. Audrey and Milo finish their sandcastle, Sabrina and Nyla get a chance to talk about wedding plans, Juno spends time with Grandma Scarlett, and Alma and Robin finish up their water time and head back onto the sand. That's when Sigrid approaches her fiancé, greeting him.

Robin: Hey there. Having fun?

Sigrid: The kids definitely are. Audrey's made a friend.

Robin: I saw that. Was that the kid's dad you were talking to?

Sigrid: Oh, yeah, his name's Coty. Kid's name is Milo.

Sigrid: They live on the island, just moved recently. Coty said his father was originally from Sulani. He and Milo are by themselves out here, so I'm glad Milo was able to bond with Audrey.

Robin: Hm. Milo's mother's not around?

Sigrid: Doesn't sound like it. He's such a cutie. Maybe after things calm down in the New Year we can set up a playdate for the kids.

Robin: Yeah, maybe after the wedding.

Sigrid: Here, I'll share his number with you. Maybe you two'll get along as well. Good for you to have some guy friends. Hey, maybe he can help with the treehouse!

Robin can't help but notice Sigrid's enthusiasm. He cherishes it, as it was always one of Sigrid's best qualities. Still, there's the slightest part of him that feels something other than joy. Jealousy? Pah, what is there to be jealous of? Sigrid loves Robin, and she's never looked at anyone else the entire time they've been together. There's too much history. They have a family. Sigrid would never leave that all behind. So why does Robin still feel this way?

Whatever it is, Robin resolves to push it away. He just needs to focus on his girls as always. Maintain the family he loves so dearly. Be the man his father would be proud of. Things will be fine.

Yeah. Just fine.

#sims 4 fontenot legacy #sims 4 legacy challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 modded #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 #ts4 simblr

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wazu-horo · 8 months

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Things that make me weird (Pt. 1)

Going to counseling and getting on medicine is fine and dandy, until it clears the fog away (little by little) and you realize how weird you actually are.

I have a lot of things "wrong" with me; body not functioning correctly, busted up nerve bundles, and now my brain is whack.

Once upon a time, I was an unsupervised child on the late 90's world wide web. And as many of my millennial friends can attest, god damn what a wild fucking world. In fact, 90% of my friends were all online, long distanced friends. But I loved them so much, as equally as my friends at home.

So what makes this weird? I'm getting to it. I'm bad at talking.

I did not by any means grow up in the worst household, but it wasn't ideal. You could say I grew up with a narcissist mom and a dad who was never around unless it benefited him? Or, I was an undiagnosed autistic/AuDHD child who had no idea what was going on around them, expected to know, and be punished for doing wrong on the first try? That last one might have been an exaggeration but something to touch back on later. I bring up my youth to talk about my parents, and how I never learned how to love right, and my attachment issues. I was home alone a lot from 11 up. All the company I had was on instant messengers. My dad would only see me every-other-weekend, and maybe one or two of those days. I also spent my weekends on the internet. I seldom spent time at my friend's houses unless it was a special occasion. My consistent life was on the internet. Onto the next problem!

My first romantic relationships were all online. I say "all" there, but I would say there were 2 "serious" relationships. And they were very, very, so very nice. I felt like, I could get through anything. I felt like I was on top of the world. Then my junior year of high school happened. (*to add, I was bullied severely through school and only had a very very tight knit of friends) I met someone in school, we clicked immediately. We dated, my first kiss, my first ""real"" any of the things you expect. And I had to end it with the long distance boyfriend (yep, I was that fucker. I dated HighSchoolCrush a few times and then broke up with OnlineBoyfriend.). Supposedly, we said we'd still be friends. Don't know how that happened. Me and my new partner would continue to finish school, attend the same college (and drop out), they enlisted in the Air Force and we got married at 20 & 22. Suddenly I'm having adventures in a new state, learning how to socialize around complete strangers, manage a house, learn to drive (yes I only got my license at 21 please...), and I'm wrapped up in a whirl wind of real life and struggling to maintain appearances. My internet persona was fading. For a while, I went without a computer and my only entertainment was console games (which at the time, I was more than happy with because I was so god damn tired all the time). It faded, for... years. Eventually we returned back "home", to our friends and family and I felt a weight lift off of me, except for the fact we were living with my mom again. And I started getting back on the internet a little more. My internet friends had moved on it seemed.

Hey, are we going to get to the part about, why you made this in the first place? Yes.

My ex boyfriend for some unexplained beautiful reason gifted me Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood. Stay with me here. Blud bought me Stormblood because it was on sale and as an attempt to get me back online (since we had a history of playing MMOs together). Let's be clear: he was in his own committed relationship, it was truly a friendly gesture. WELL. I FUCKED IT UP. I, LISTEN. LOOK. I FUMBLED THE BAG. WHY? Because I found myself suddenly infatuated again. hard. Which made things very difficult for me. (Also because I didn't want to take the time to learn something new and just gave up- Like college!) Back to the problem at hand: did I still love him? Did he still love me? Well, it has to be right? No it's fine we're just friends, we can be just friends, because he's cool with it, I can be cool with it, right? WRONG. Not long after playing it for a few days, I brought up the idea of polyamory. WELL. Some people don't want to hear that on week 3 of talking to their ex again, so!! You can guess what happened next.

You see, the short of the long is, if somebody, anybody, is too kind to me for too long, I develop, feelings. And now that I have had time to chew on it for a few years recent, I think I might have figured it out. To a point.

As a friend put it, I love too hard, which is a beautiful way to put it. I have such a rocky understanding of what love is that it's incredibly difficult to differentiate all the kinds of love there are. I think I got familial (family) love down. Through my years of trying to figure this out, I've always said "If someone, anyone, is too nice to me, I will start to get a crush." Which is absolutely true, it was a common variable in all of it. Then I developed this fucking habit of telling these people who are so kind to me that I'm so warmed up to now all of my fucking problems and trauma dumping on the poor people. And those who stick around? God help them. It was meant to be.

"WAZU SLOW DOWN!" I hear you scream. Well I certainly didn't in the past!

I love too much. I have a lot of love to give. I love weird. I love them, I can't help it, I don't know why. I just love, wrong.

I'm at a weird place where I keep asking myself, "am I in love with all of my friends?" and I think the answer, is, yes?

I love my married spouse so much, they truly are my other half (even on most occasions I want to wring their neck but that's for a different journal post). Through our 16 years together and almost 12 married, we've learned a lot, we've grown up together, supported each other, and who could ask for a better friend than that? But what if, you have friends who would just do the fucking same? But what if, you would also do all of that stuff and/or more for the friends you have?

I have friends who I would never do, how do I put it... I have friends who I certainly wouldn't do marital things with, but would follow them to the ends of the earth. Sometimes my friends give me little flutters in my heart that they don't know about. I want to tell these people every little detail of my life, and hear about every second of theirs. And...and!!... Sometimes! I want to hold their hand, or go on dinner 1 on 1, snuggle up with... go to sleep with.

And before anything gets taken out of context, no I am not trying to "sleep" or have sex to put it bluntly with my friends.

And if you're still gonna take it out of context, DMs are open.

I've been typing too much and now my brain is getting off track.

Listen. The moral of this post is that I love wrong. I'm in love with my friends and that's not how things should be. And I feel that it stems from the lack of security I had as a child, a mom who didn't hug me and a dad who was never there, home alone with the computer and friends on the other end. I love my friends, too much, but I still love them.

But it's hard to not be in love with them. I don't understand, and I wish I could be a little less weird.

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boneheadduluc · 3 years

Note

I'm in need of some Andrea smut every time I read something about him there is no sex because this was in the 30's and it would be inappropriate to do it before marriage. So...let's get inappropriate (?

no mommy kink please, i can't cope with that

Actually this was going to happen v/ soon in my fic of Andrea BUT I'll write a quick drabble/one shot for you bc same! we need that in our lives :) I'll be doing gender neutral reader for dis ;) Warnings!! 18+ , loss of virginity, perhaps slight edging? oral on reader (female presenting) and NO mommy kink per request :)

Rules were rules. Marry a nice man, then lose your virginity. You had been following those rules. Even now, you lived alone in a small cottage on a hill. And you still haven't lost it. You never felt inclined too really...and you were fine with that. It's just everyone in the village usually was a kid or a senior. No one was around your age, so you preferred a secluded kind of life.

Even if that meant following rules you didn't want to follow. You hated that you didn't have a choice. You hated how your parent's voice replayed in your head over and over. Telling you “wait! get married first!” You were sick of it, you were desperate sure, not desperate enough to lose it to whoever you met, but then...

a new boy showed up, you learned his story since you were a bit close with Janet and Ursula, the old sisters who were housing the young man. So you met him, and god... he was just your type.

Plus they invited you over so he could play for you? meaning the violin. At first, you felt a little out of place... until he started playing. Needless to say, he was more than talented than you expected. You’d never heard anything like it, afterward, he wanted to talk to you surprisingly.

“What is you name?” he tried his best to speak, you were told his English wasn't the best so you found it more endearing than anything and applauded his effort since he’d only been here for a few weeks. So you looked to him, sitting beside you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks. His hair was a bit shaggy as he shook the hair out of his eyes.

“Oh, my name is (y/n).” You gave a warm smile, shifting in your seat to face him more. “And you are Andrea, yes?” and he nodded before he repeated your name warmly, and honestly you loved the way it sounded in his mouth.

------------------

Weeks passed, you visiting, Andrea playing for you, afterward, you would talk to Andrea, his English noticeably getting better. And sometimes he would even be a bit of a flirt. So one day you just asked the sisters if they would allow you to take him into town. You did your best to sound as friendly as possible and it seemingly worked.

You showed him a few of your favorite places, took him dancing to the pub. Though he wasn't a very good dancer, you had to kind of show him. Guiding his hands to land on your hips and pull you close, telling him to watch your feet as he got red because honestly he couldn't help but stare at your face.

Then finally he asked to see your home. And you couldn't help be nervous, he had been making eyes at you all day, smirking like a cat with cunning eyes. Like he had so much more in that head of his, thoughts that he wasn't sharing. Plus he was already holding hands with you, keeping you close to him as he kept calling you ‘Liebling.’ And of course you didn't refuse him, not at all. So by the time, you were halfway up the path on the mountain and he slowly stopped walking, staring at you with a sweet smile.

“Something the matter Andrea?” you questioned- confused as to why he had stopped. He moved slowly, stepping closer to you, leaning in, quickly pressing a kiss to your cheek. Then backing away, checking your eyes for permission. You nodded and Andrea knitted his brows together, exhaling through his nose as he slowly moved to press a kiss to your other cheek. Gently. Wonderfully. Then your forehead. The tip of your nose, then finally his mouth hovered over your own. Breath shaking with feverish anticipation.

You ached to lean in and finish what he started, but you wanted to see if Andrea would do it himself, and after about 5 nervous seconds you felt him roughly slot his lips against your own.

You were lost, blindly lost to pleasure and yearning. You barely realized the way you pulled him up the hill, mouths slotted together as you rushed backward, your back soon up against your door, your hands at his waistband, he moaned against your mouth.

And soon enough you were turned around and inside and he was walking backward as you led him to your bed. Pushing against his chest as he sat and you climbed his lap. Kissing him so harshly you felt your teeth clink against his own, embarrassed you pulled back, your hand coming to your lips.

“I apologize, Andrea-” You were breathless, with shy eyes and flushed cheeks.

He looked the same, though less embarrassed. More lustful than anything.

“No, no-” He started softly. “You are wonderful.” He spoke slowly, catching your eyes as he brushed your hair out of your face with his thumbs. Putting a strand of hair behind your ear lovingly.

“But...I need-” He started up again, and he groaned out, almost a whimper really, like he was in pain and that's when you felt something poke against your inner thigh, and then you understood. You ground forward and watched as his mouth fell open. Andreas eyebrows furrowing, his face growing red, a moan caught in his throat.

“Oh, you wonderful creature.” You mused. Almost amazed at the power you held over him. So you did it again and again until he was begging for you to let him cum.

“Please...Please (y/n)-” He buried his face into your neck, his large hands on your waist, fingers digging in deeply, his shoulders going tense at your dry humping.

A part of you was nervous honestly. You didn't know if Andrea was also a virgin, but judging by his closeness already ...you were gonna bet on the fact he was, but then again you didn't know what you were doing anyway.

So instead, you simply stopped. And he stopped breathing. He was frozen actually, and you wondered why, a part of you wanted to laugh, he was curled up into you, unmoving, holding you.

“Andrea?” you questioned and finally he moved, looking up at you,

“I do something wrong?” he slowly drawled out, voice tiny and nervous and you shook your head. “No, of course not I just...have you ever done this before?” It was your turn to be tiny and nervous now, especially self-conscious.

He gulped, Andrea understood. And he slowly shook his head ‘no’

“I'm sorry,” he whispered and it almost broke your heart.

“Oh my love, no! You have nothing to be sorry for. I have never...done this... either. So it's okay Andrea. And...and honestly, we don't have to do anything if you don't want to.” You cupped his face, giving him a warm smile and he returned one. Slowly pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I want you.” He whispered after breaking the kiss barely.

And that was all you needed to push him back on the bed so he was laying down. You climbed atop him, undoing his pants slowly. He raised himself on his elbows, watching you, breathing heavy, eyes flickering back and forth between you and your hands.

And suddenly he took your hand, putting it away from him. Softly and gently and lovingly. “first you. Let me...help.” He muttered, looking to you for permission and so you switched roles and he was helping you undress from your light dress.

And you were naked and self-conscious and nervous in front of him.

But he was smiling, eyes running over your perfect form. You were perfect to him, everything about you, even the things you considered a flaw, he would reach out, brushing his fingertips lightly over them. He muttered how you were beautiful before reaching with both hands to your thighs. Parting them slowly, gently as all his movements were.

He slowly moved off the bed, to his knees as he pulled you to the edge of the bed, your legs over his shoulder, his eyes on yours, looking up to you the entire time. Your hands gripped the blankets harshly and nervously. But you nodded at him and he leaned forward, delving his tongue over your entrance. And you moaned, the feeling making you throw your head back.

And he did it again, though opening his mouth even wider, taking you into his mouth, his tongue lapping up your wetness. Moving up to run over your clit. And you shivered, sensitive all over.

He realized that was the spot, so he did it once more and got the same reaction, actually an even bigger one. Your back was beginning to arch. Toes curling.

And he kept eating you out- tongue sometimes delving into you, into your warmth and he would moan against your wetness and heat. Eyelashes fluttering and closing as you would spread your legs further, pushing your cunt against his mouth- thighs shaking and quivering as you felt a knot of heat in your lower stomach slowly coming closer and growing bigger. And finally you were gripping his hair, pulling as he whimpered against you.

“Oh Andrea- Andrea Im so- Im going to-” You could barely get a full comprehensible sentence out before your thighs were convulsing around his head and your back arching and a loud moan was drawn out from deep within you moaning- screaming his name as a intense orgasm slapped you right across the face, and god- you were exhausted in all honesty. You even fell back on the bed, his tongue still on you though as if he couldn't get enough, nose sometimes even nudging up against your clit as he hungrily and greedily tasted everything in you.

And as much as it was amazing soon you were becoming over sensitive and with each lick and moan of his against your pussy you were being shocked, body twitching and you pulled back, breathless, a mess for a lack of a better term.

And you began to chuckle as well as he rose up now, smirking at you, his lips and chin, all slick with your wetness and his own spit. And you grinned right back at him, and pulled him down to meet your mouth as you kissed him, without a care in the world. It was almost satisfying to taste yourself on Andreas tongue.

But finally you broke the kiss, cupping his face as you knew what came next. “Your turn my love.” You muttered. Sitting up now as you went for his belt, undoing it slowly, hoping he wouldn't stop you again. Though it was worth it last time. But he allowed you to- Andrea even began unbuttoning his shirt. Throwing it to the floor along with your dress, as you followed up with taking off his belt and pulling the pants away- his cock finally free and hard. Fully upright, beads of pre-cum forming at his reddened tip. He was so desperate, it was clear in his expression. Mouth slightly agape as he watched you.

You thought for a moment, wondering on what you should do now. On what position and honestly how all of this was gonna go. A part of you was scared as you shuffled back on the bed, and patted the space beside you, signaling him to come be by you, but first he began shuffling out of his shoes, then along with his pants until he was fully naked. The look on his face signaling he didn't want you to feel self conscious with him being half clothed, so he decided he too would be fully undressed for this. He moved beside you now, huffing out a short breath, nervous. It was clear so you pulled him close, kissing his jawline softly. “Lets go slow, yes?” You mumbled to him softly. He looked up at you, shoulders tense as he nodded. “Yes mien Liebling.” he whispered back, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he furrowed his brows again for you were laying back now, resting your head on the pillow as you slightly spread your legs for him to fit in between. So he moved to lean over you, head of his cock teasing against your lower belly softly, it made him whimper as you couldn't help but giggle as you looked up to him, he looked beautiful this way. “Should I- uhm..” he stuttered, cheeks burning red as he lowered himself slightly, trying to align himself with your entrance. “Yes Andrea- go ahead.” You bit at your lower lip, eyes gazing as he closed his eyes, throbbing tip budding at your opening, he pushed his hips forward, his tip sliding in before it slipped upwards, you really were that tight- though you felt bad, for if you were more relaxed it would've gone in easier. “I apologize-” you mutter, exhaling shakily but he shakes his head. “No- not your fault.” Andrea shares a calming smile, his eyes shining as he looks deeply into your eyes. “I try again.” he reassured and positioned his cock to your entrance once more, this time sliding it in your slickness and heat easily. You held your breath, feeling him stretch you wide, Andrea on the other hand groaned out, whimpered as his head fell into the crook of your neck. You couldn't imagine how sensitive he must be at the moment. He kept sliding in until he couldn't anymore, and he filled you to the brim, you felt so full and couldn't help but moan softly, your hands going to the back of his nape, playing with his hair, twirling it around your fingers, admiring the feeling of his warm body atop of yours, holding you. he stayed still, immediately understanding you would need some time to adjust. So you two stayed still, breathing and trying to figure this all out, he lifted his head, and you just stared at him until the two of you broke into small laughter. Warm chuckles filling the air around you, and you caught his lips softly, he laughed into your mouth even- so shy and nervous, Andrea couldn't help it. But after a minute of kissing and nervously giggling you finally felt ready. You broke the warm kiss. And caught his eyes. “Andrea I think I'm ready...move...please?” You muttered shyly- you didn't want to sound demanding but were soon relived when he just smiled at you. Giving you a look as to say “of course.” And he pulled out halfway, inhaling deeply as he then slid back in setting up a pace, not to fast not to slow, just right honestly. And that's when you felt the pleasure slowly beginning to take over the slight discomfort. When he soon began pumping into you like a animal in heat. You moaned his name over and over, arching your back as you watched his face turn desperate. He would mutter in polish and German. whispering into your ear and you couldn't help but scratch at his back. He changed his angle slightly, cock hitting your g-spot.

“Oh! Oh Andrea you- oh fuck.” You cursed, closing your eyes. “Yes harder please.” you moaned out, feverishly. Everything felt so hot, you were even sweating across your forehead slightly. And he did as you commanded, pushing harder, fucking into you, moaning brokenly each time he pushed in. The squeeze of your pussy around him making him lightheaded even. He dropped his head to your chest eventually. Tongue finding its way to your nipple. Opening wide and sucking on your breast. And you felt so sensitive, everything overwhelming you but in the best way possible.

“Oh yes, yes-” you chanted, breathless and suddenly wrapped your thighs around him, flipping the two of you over so you were on top, he gasped- eyes wide as he looked to you, his face becoming flushed once more- the sight of him was enough to push you to the edge as you began to bounce on his cock, suddenly reaching you climax, steadying yourself by putting your hands to Andreas chest- your back arching as you clenched around his cock, falling forward now- pushing your lips together.

He kept thrusting into you though- desperate to cum inside, “Please- please.” He begged for release, closing his eyes as you groaned softly, your insides sensitive as you sat back up, and it only took 2 bounces on his cock for Andrea to be moaning out your name- as he gripped your thighs and soon you felt his warm seed fill you up, he whimpered and fucked into you harshly now- sitting up and pulling you close, fitting his mouth over your tit to muffle the shameful sounds spilling out of him.

As he fucked through his climax he soon began to slow down, exhausted as you moaned- feeling him suck your nipples softly now, closing his eyes as his breathing calmed.

You ran your fingers through his hair softly. Kissing the top of his head- satisfied now and he now popped off your tit, lips a bright color that matched his cheeks. He smiled at you and you grinned back, pressing a kiss to his nose. You raised yourself off of him, and you felt his warm seed inside of you, you adored the feeling as you rolled off and laid down- he lowered himself to be by you.

“You were amazing Andrea- absolutely wonderful.” You sighed softly as his hand reached your stomach, drawing invisible lines with his fingers over the soft skin. Andrea shyly smiled now. “Danke.” he whispered in German, you knew what it meant and chuckled softly.

“Im sleepy.” you whispered, and it was true- your eyes were heavy and Andrea nodded. “Sleep.” he kissed your cheek warmly. And so you did, you fell asleep to him cuddled beside you, humming a tune that was familiar to you.

#Daniel Bruhl #daniel brühl #Ladies in Lavender #Andrea Marowski #andrea marowski x reader #loss of virginity #first time on tumblr #this is so soft pls #hope you enjoy this oneshot guys #sorry it took so fckin long

195 notes · View notes

honeymoonjin · 3 years

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cursing, panic attack

A/N: apologies for my tgm crimes here but i gotta keep you on your toes since you have the old plan. also i'm not going to spoil anything but day 25 has one of my fav scenes in the show so far ;;-; so please enjoy this chapter and i will continue to work hard to finish the following one and get back into the posting routine!

DAY TWENTY-FOUR

You’re roused from sleep by the feathered sensation of fingertips on your jaw. Twitching slightly, you try and move away from it, burrowing deeper into the warm, gently rocking pillow your head is propped up on.

Before you can slip back under, however, the fingers give one last attack: a sudden flick to your cheek that echoes with a thwack. You flinch and furrow your brows, grumbling your displeasure since your words haven’t quite found you yet.

“Get up, sleepyhead, unless you’d rather I just piss in the bed.”

That’ll do it. You shoot up so quickly your vision swims, one side of your face feeling cold without the comfort of Yoongi’s chest. “Fuck you, go pee,” you slur, eyes still half-closed, the morning glare peeking through a gap in his curtains.

Yoongi happily but hurriedly trots off to the bathroom, giving you a moment of respite to collect yourself. It takes a few moments to recall the previous night, not just the way Yoongi’s voice had made you cum in your room, but also the way it later lulled you to sleep as he told you hushed stories of his childhood or anecdotes from his days as a sex education teacher.

You can even hear his voice now, just barely slipping under the crack of the door, humming and singing under his breath as he washes his hands.

When he finally exits, you’re propped up by pillows, duvet tucked over your knees and eyes crinkled fondly at his bedhead.

“Oh, no,” he starts with a frown, “you better get that look off of your face.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

Taming his hair with a few flat strokes, he shakes his head. “I need somebody sane in this house to talk to. You aren’t allowed to fall in love with me, it’s conflict of interest.”

Mouth dropping open, it takes you a few minutes to note the subtle curl to his lips. “You dick! I’m certainly not planning on it, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Hey,” he defends in a drawl, no attempt at modesty as he shucks his pyjamas before browsing his chest of drawers, “it’s been done before. You come for the massive dick and stay for the massive heart.” He pauses, shoulder muscles flexing as he reaches in to a drawer, pulling out a pair of dark wash jeans. “Stop looking at my ass, I’m trying to lecture you.”

On the contrary, you lower your gaze and narrow in on it. “You’re starting to develop a little bubble butt, Yoongi. It’s very cute.” Not leaving him time to protest, you barrel on. “Besides, your dick isn’t that big.”

“That’s only because you’re comparing mine to hyung’s. And Namjoon’s. And… And Jungkook’s, I guess. And-” Suddenly he cuts himself off, throwing himself back on the bed with his back hunched in despair. “Fuck, do I have a small dick?”

“Mm, not really,” you dismiss easily, deciding to finally get out of bed and pick out your own clothes - selecting them from Yoongi’s drawers, of course. He makes no protest, still staring blankly at the jeans in his hands. “You just have steep competition here. There’s nothing wrong with small dicks, either. They’re cute.”

Now visible from your angle, Yoongi’s face twists in a grimace. “But my dick isn’t small, right?”

You shrug, slipping on one of his FG shirts and a pair of sweatpants loose enough that you have to knot the drawstrings. “If it helps you sleep at night.”

He spares one somber glance down between his legs before he slips on a pair of underwear, finally stepping into the jeans. There’s a brief period of comfortable silence, before he lets out a small sigh. “Can I… Can I confess something to you?”

Although a quip would be easy enough to say, you sense the joking is over. “Of course, Yoongi,” you assure instead, sitting cross-legged on the unmade bed beside him. He doesn’t meet your eye, busying himself with slipping a shirt over his head. “What’s up?”

Once he’s fully dressed, he still keeps his eyes low. “When you- On Monday, when you voted out Jin-hyung. I was so glad.”

You pause for a moment. “Because you wanted him out of the competition?” you venture, but he shakes his head dully.

“Because I thought he might look at me again if he didn’t have you.”

Something sinks in your stomach, cold enough to make you shiver. The guilt in Yoongi’s voice doesn’t conceal the open vulnerability of his expression as he fiddles with his bitten fingernails. “What do you mean, Yoongi?”

“What him and I had earlier wasn’t healthy, I know that,” he defends to himself, “but… I still miss it. I miss him. But even when I spoke to him after the elimination, all he would talk about was you. And I can’t even be mad, because I get it. And I- If I’m honest,” he murmurs, feet scuffing restlessly on the carpet, “I don’t even know what I’m wanting to achieve by telling you this, but I couldn’t stand not having anybody know about it. I never wanted it to get this messy. I told myself I wouldn’t let my feelings get caught up. But I think a little heartbreak would be worth it, for him. Is that stupid?”

You feel so unanchored, like there’s nothing for you to grab onto to steady yourself. More so, you feel entirely incapable of helping your friend like you so desperately want to. “It’s not stupid,” you begin, reaching out to cup one of his hands snugly between the two of yours, head resting on his shoulder in solidarity, “and I’m so sorry. Does he- does he know you feel this way?”

“I don’t think so,” Yoongi admits in a low voice, leaning into your touch. “If he does, then he must not like me since he’s not acknowledging it. And if he doesn’t, then he must have never even considered me like that. I know I was a distraction at best.”

You knit your brows together, deep in thought to try and find the right words to say. “Or perhaps he knows and he’s respecting your boundaries by letting you initiate, especially since he was the one who took advantage of you last time. And perhaps he doesn’t know, and it’s only because he’s so caught up in his own feelings that he hasn’t considered that you may feel the same. You just don’t know these things, Yoongi. I didn’t know how you felt either until you told me.”

He nods slowly, jerkily. “Yeah,” he says weakly. “Jungkook said almost the exact same thing, actually.”

You pull back slowly, curiosity colouring your tone. “Jungkook?”

Yoongi manages a shy smile, cheeks colouring slightly. “He approached me. We- we talk a lot, way more than hyung and I ever did. I know Kookie has a crush on me, and we said we’d take things slow, but dammit, I can’t help but like the kid.”

You let a surprised laugh bubble up your throat. “That- I was not expecting that, but I’m so glad, Yoongi. Even if you don’t have Jin, I’m glad you’re letting yourself be happy with others.”

His smile falters. “Is it greedy that liking Jungkook doesn’t make me want Jin-hyung any less?”

You go still, thinking of your own blooming feelings for... Well, for most of the people in this house, if not - at least a little bit - all of them. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I’d like to think not.”

Yoongi lifts his gaze to you, carefully studying your face. “Do you ever worry,” he begins, so softly that you have to strain to make the words out, “that our feelings have been set up. By the show, I mean.” His brows furrow deeper. “We’re living in a practical paradise - luxurious house with no real jobs, our food is paid for, we’re literally getting rewarded to have sex. It’s so artificial, you know? So who’s to say that our feelings are artificial, too? I- I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” he admits with a pensive stare.

You can’t lie. You nod. “I’d like to think not,” you repeat hollowly, “but… I mean, yeah, this feels like some alternate reality, and thinking of any of you in normal, mundane, real-life scenarios seems so strange. Like, can you picture Hoseok sitting down and doing his taxes?”

Yoongi snorts, shaking his head in bemusement as a line of tension eases from his shoulders. “I hope he hires an accountant. I certainly wouldn’t trust him with my money.”

You let out a deep sigh and fall backwards onto the duvet, air punched out of you on impact. “The thing is, Yoongi,” you declare in a matter-of-fact tone, “we have no way of knowing what life will be like once all this is wrapped up so why even bother worrying?”

He turns slightly, just enough to watch you warily over his shoulder. “Maybe because I could get my heart broken?”

You pout at him. “Tell me how that’s any different from developing a crush in real life?”

He opens his mouth, furrows his brows, and closes it again. “I- Ugh. Fuck you for being correct.”

Pleased with yourself, you hide your grin as you playfully knock his side with your foot, making him recoil with a groan. “Be as cautious or as impulsive as you want, but even if all this is fake, you could’ve just as easily developed those feelings outside of the show. Like come on, if you saw Jin in the grocery store don’t tell me you wouldn’t fall in love on sight!”

Yoongi shakes his head again, a wry smile playing at his lips. “I see your point… and now I’m picturing Jin getting groceries and looking hot doing it...wow.”

You cackle at the dazed look on Yoongi’s face, using his arm to pull yourself up off the bed, patting him on the shoulder. “Good talk, champ. I’m off to chow down on the leftover pork from last night. Care to join me?”

His eyes glitter, but the doctor declines. “Yoonji said she blackmailed one of the production team to bring her fried chicken from her favourite place. She’s hiding it in the bunk room, but you didn’t hear that from me. She’s selling some to me for a small fortune, the little devil.”

“Less than half a week here and she’s already set up a black market,” you muse, “I think I may be in love with her, Yoongi.”

“Don’t you dare.”

While the kitchen is empty when you first arrive, it only takes the sizzle of pork belly in a saucepan to draw your roommates down.

Jin is first, silently rummaging in the pantry and fridge for some side dishes to add to the mix. In return, you begin boiling some hot water, adding instant coffee mix to two mugs.

As the others join, the line of mugs and glasses on the kitchen island grows, until even the two Min twins are hovering in the kitchen, looking suspicously still hungry after their illicit breakfast.

There aren’t enough chairs at the table to seat you all, but luckily Taehyung and Jungkook are happy hunched over the bench in the kitchen, sharing a set of Airpods and snickering at a seemingly endless stream of TikToks.

At the table, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi chow down on their meals, the latter with a considerably smaller portion made up mostly of meat. Yoonji and Jimin are on either side of you, with Jin on one end, chewing slow to savour each bite.

It’s the first time in a while that you’ve all shared breakfast at the same time, and you’re struck with a deep feeling of fondness at this little family-like group you’re living with. Jimin sneaks extra strips of meat or spoonfuls of rice into your bowl when he thinks you’re not looking; Hoseok listens enthusiastically to Namjoon’s explanation of a summer school course he’s taking, even as he has to ask for clarification just about every second sentence; Yoongi splits his time between checking up on the two maknaes with a soft look, and scowling at his sister’s teasing comments.

“Any plans for the day?” Yoonji asks suddenly, tugging you out of your musings. She’s dressed sleekly in a black velvet mock neck shirt and high waisted denim shorts, her face as stark a resemblance to her brother as ever, with two sharp lines of black on her lids being the only visible makeup. “Except, I suppose, the mandatory fucking.”

You huff with pink cheeks, never growing used to hearing it so openly. “The days kinda blur together a little when you have no real responsibilities,” you admit, “I should probably find a hobby or something.”

Yoonji’s eyes crinkle in faux empathy. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna be so out of it when you return to the real world. You all will,” she adds, before shrugging, “except maybe Namjoon. Seems like academia doesn’t stop for anyone.”

You can’t help but agree. “He has more brain cells in his pinky finger than I do in my own body,” you swear, “he could break an arm and still type a thesis one-handed.”

Halfway through a mouthful of food, you’re rewarded to the ungraceful yet endlessly endearing sound of her snorting, a hand cupped over her mouth. After swallowing, she turns towards you to respond. “I haven’t known him for long, but that seems to check out. He’s quite the character, huh?”

You don’t miss the meaningful lilt to her voice, nor the quirk of a sharp brow. “He’s a good guy,” you reply under your breath, gaze darting down the table to where the man himself is engaged in an intensely enthusiastic discussion (okay, closer to a TedTalk) with Hoseok, now using pieces of meat to create an abstract diagram in his otherwise empty bowl. The latter looks bewildered, but is nonetheless paying deep attention to every word.

It’s impossible not to feel soft inside as you look at the pair of them, all complementary contrast. Hoseok with his slender nose and harsh facial structure and Namjoon with a round, gentle face. One of them dressed in sleek black and the other in oversized earth tones, the typically reserved one animated and the bubbly one focused in. It had taken you barely a month of shared living to become completely fond of these men, not just Namjoon and Hoseok but all of them, and as much as it was nice to have someone new in the Villa for a while, Yoonji’s presence makes you more aware of the fact that you and the seven guys had developed a certain equilibrium that seemed slightly off-balance with the change.

It makes you worry about what other disturbances this delicate system could hold, and if returning to the real world would be a shift large enough to permanently upend it.

Wishing to dispel the pessimistic narrative beginning to form, you focus in on Yoonji again. “Anyways,” you start, “how are you finding the Villa so far?”

“Certainly an interesting look behind the veil, though it’s really not ideal having to-” Yoonji’s cut off by the chirp of an incoming message on her phone. “Sorry, one sec,” she mumbles absentmindedly, but you don’t miss the way her face falls when she reads the message, immediately glancing directly across the table to where her brother sits.

To your growing concern, Yoongi is also reading a message on his phone, and he quietly excuses himself from the table, leaving his bowl half-eaten. He jerks his head towards the front door, and Yoonji manages a quick apology before they’re leaving the room.

All startled out of their separate conversations, the remaining members of the household sit in confused silence, enough that even Taehyung and Jungkook turn around from their phones.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asks in a worried voice. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

Nobody replies, Jin just shaking his head with a grim frown and leaving the table himself, going after them.

“Guys,” Taehyung says more insistently, eyes not leaving the empty seats at the table.

“They both got a text,” you say with furrowed brows, “Yoongi and Yoonji. Must’ve been bad news, judging by their faces.”

“Jin-hyung’ll find out what’s going on,” Namjoon assures, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself, “let’s just clean up for them and wait for an update. Yeah?”

The two youngest nod solemnly, still with a single Airpod each bobbing in their opposite ears.

For a while, the group of you remaining sit in silence, as if caught up in some spell that would only be broken once Jin returned with some answers. The absence of Yoongi at the table is so much more pronounced, and you can’t help but feel the sickening worry swirl inside you when you look at his bowl, chopsticks strewn carelessly beside it.

Everyone is just waiting for bad news. You’ve felt this looming dread before, and it either came with a swoop of relief or a blow of despair. Your teeth find your thumbnail as you wait helplessly to see which one it’ll be.

It feels like an eternity before the door finally opens, making everyone jump, but only a few minutes have really passed. Jin is panting slightly, like he ran back from wherever Yoongi disappeared to.

“He’s-” he starts quickly, before a tremor passes over his face and he grimaces, jogging over and falling heavily into his chair at the table, face in his hands. “Their dad is in hospital. Heart attack.”

“Oh my god,” Namjoon breathes, brows knit together in sympathy. “Is he okay? Was it serious?”

Jin shrugs, looking up enough to run his hand over his face and take a shaky breath. “He’s alright for now, but apparently they need to make sure it doesn’t repeat anytime soon. If he settles, he’ll be fine, but there’s a chance that he might suffer another attack. Yoongi and Yoonji are going to the hospital now to stay with him until they’re more certain he’s stable. Just in case.”

“When is he coming back? Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook’s eyes are wide, shiny. He can’t stop fiddling with his fingers, self-soothing.

“Not for a while, I don’t think,” Jin divulges with a pained expression. “He needs to be there for his family right now. That’s all I know, I’m sorry.”

The front door creaks, and all of you instinctively whip your heads towards it, as if Yoongi himself might be returning already, but you’re greeted with the weary face of Producer Sejin, joining you at the table, taking Yoongi’s old spot. Taehyung frowns deeply at the choice, turning his face away.

“What’s going on?” you ask quickly. “What happens to Yoongi? And us?”

“Yoongi is… He was in a rush to get going, understandably, so we didn’t speak in great depth. But he in short stated that he’d return when his father was in better health if the place was still open for him. I’ve got in contact with the higher-ups, and we’ve agreed to put the show on a temporary hold.”

“On hold?” Jungkook asks in a nervous voice. “What does that even mean?”

Sejin clears his throat stiffly and clicks his tongue. “Well. It means we’re putting a stop to the game for now, in short. If Yoongi is able to return by the end of the week, we’ll resume as usual. Otherwise, we’ll consider him to have permanently left the competition, and we’ll be forced to continue the game without him.”

You frown, fighting the urge to cry. This all feels so wrong, like he’s been taken from you with little hope of reunion, and discussing it like administration feels so clinical. “So we’re just sitting here, not knowing if he’s going to come back home, waiting around in limbo?” As soon as you finish, it feels like the word home lingers in the air longer than the rest of them. And perhaps this house doesn’t feel like home to you, but it certainly seems like six of the seven pieces of home are around you right now, and it’s not the same without him away. By the way the others are solemn and red-eyed, you probably aren’t the only one that’s begun feeling that way.

Sejin just shakes his head slowly, as subdued as you all are. “Listen, I know this isn’t ideal. The boss wanted to film it, make a big drama out of it, and then kick him off the show for views. I’m doing the best I can here to compromise and give him some dignity.”

Eyes widening, you stare at the round eyes of the cameras in the living room. “Are you- are you even allowed to say that?”

“I cut the camera feeds,” Sejin says in a defeated tone, “the show is officially off-air for technical difficulties. You can do what you want here while you wait - hell, you can leave if you want, just please be prepared to come back on the Sunday. We’ll have a discussion about whether Yoongi can return, and what we’ll do if he doesn’t. Understood?”

“Understood,” Namjoon offers up for the group, and the producer leaves with another sigh and an attempt at a comforting smile. You can’t help but feel bad for him, working such an emotionally draining job, especially when you’ve heard nothing but bad things about his employer.

Once the room falls into quiet again, Jin stands up, chair legs scraping against the floor. “Okay, I think we should decide as a group what we’re wanting to do. Stay or go?”

You open your mouth to give your two cents, but before you can, Jungkook suddenly chokes on a sob and covers his face with his hands, Jimin immediately scooting his chair closer to wrap an arm around his shaking shoulders.

“Hey, what is it?” Jimin asks quietly, but the room is so silent that you all catch it. “Talk to me, bun. What is it?”

Jungkook takes a few stuttering breaths to compose himself, sniffling. “I don’t want you all to leave too,” he confesses, Jimin’s thumb catching a tear dangling on the tip of his nose, “isn’t Yoongi-hyung enough?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the elder promises, pressing a kiss into his hairline before looking up at the rest of you, eyes widening intentionally. “We’ll stick together through this until he comes back, yeah? It’s not all bad. The cameras are off, remember? We can have a break now, we don’t need to worry about the show. Isn’t that nice?”

After a moment’s considering, Jungkook nods slowly. “‘t is nice,” he admits begrudgingly. “But only if everyone stays.”

You can’t help but smile fondly, getting up yourself to come behind him, stroking his hair back. “We’ll stay, of course we’ll stay. Let’s spend some time together tonight, we can put on a movie and snuggle, how about that?”

He perks up at the thought of this, glancing around the table as the others nod in affirmation. “I’ll bring down the blankets,” he bargains, cracking a small smile, and the rest of the room relaxes, immediately bursting into sound as everyone arranges the necessary supplies for a good quality movie night, almost back to normal.

Jungkook, as the member of the Villa in most urgent need of a pick-me-up, is given movie choosing privileges, so the seven of you tuck in for a rewatch of his favourite Spiderman movies, perhaps the only thing that can keep him glued to the screen.

At first, the absence feels overwhelming to you. Try as you might through the opening sequence, you can’t shake it. Your mind counts heads without thinking, keeps looking at the space on the couch where Yoongi liked to put his feet up. Even though you know it’s his father who is unwell, not him, there’s the sick swelling in your stomach that makes you feel like his departure is final, and shortly after the title card plays out, you’re quietly excusing yourself and stumbling to the back door, in desperate need of fresh air.

It’s cold outside, a brisk wind cutting through you. You barely make it around the corner out of sight before your legs buckle, and you let yourself fall into a pathetic crouch, your weight propped up against the side of the house as you try to suck the chilled air into your lungs.

The panic creeps up on you in swells, the irrational fear that Yoongi would leave the show and you’d never see him again and everything would fall apart suddenly feeling like a whole tsunami crashing against you. Your fingers claw at the exterior wall as you fall back onto your behind, unable to even keep yourself in a crouch.

More so than the intrusive thoughts, it’s the image of Yoongi’s face falling, of him rushing out of the house in frantic distress that replays in your mind and leaves you suffocating. He looked so scared, your calm, reliable Yoongi. He was like a pillar, but that news was a fell swoop he couldn’t stay strong against. Your heart burns for him, cramping and aching in your chest.

For a moment, you picture yourself staying out here, gasping for breath until the sun goes down. You feel alone, more than ever since coming here, and even as the thought spooks you, there’s no energy in your body to do anything about it.

Just as your breaths start to sound more like death rattles and you curl your face towards the ground, a warmth envelopes your back, arms circling your middle and lifting you up.

“Hey, breathe, breathe with me, Y/n. I’m here.”

You recognise the voice. You recognise the built torso holding you steady, but your mind isn’t putting the pieces together, and so you simply squeeze your eyes shut and allow yourself to be maneuvered around there are hands on your face and a deep voice instructing you to look at me. I’m here; look at me.

You crack your eyes open, body heaving with the effort it takes to get any oxygen in your lungs, but you’re met with the soulful brown eyes of Kim Namjoon, narrowed in concern.

His hands are warm despite the frigid air outside, and you let yourself melt into him, eyes sinking to watch his lips mouth instructions, demonstrating exaggerated breathing for you to follow.

You feel distinctly like you might vomit, but you force yourself to match his breaths. The shuddering in and stilted out aren’t as fluid as his, but slowly your heart doesn’t thud in your ears and your body doesn’t shake as violently.

You feel damp, sweating all over, and your whole body aches, but your hearing begins to properly tune in again, coherence creeping back. “Na-Namjoon,” you gasp, wishing you had the energy to grab his arms or hug him or something other than lying limp against the wall of the house.

“Shh, hey, don’t strain yourself. Take it easy. I’m here.” He’s crouching in front of you, eyes locked onto you as he continues to hold you steady, jaw kept aloft by his hands. “Keep breathing, and it’ll go away. It’s a panic attack, I’ve had my fair share. You’ll come right.”

Trusting him despite the persisting burn in your chest, you let him coach your breathing for several more minutes, the heightened air influx making your head go light and floaty.

Once a counted breath turns into a yawn of exhaustion, you know the worst has passed. It leaves you boneless, not a single ounce of power left in your muscles, but you can breathe again, and it’s all thanks to the man across from you.

“I’ve never had one before,” you manage, voice cracking, “not like that.”

Namjoon’s lips press together in sympathy, and he turns to prop himself against the side of the house beside you, letting you continue breathing independently. “Is it Yoongi-hyung?”

You nod weakly, and the academic hums in confirmation. “I used to get panic attacks a lot in university. I used to hate them, thought they meant I was weak. Like I couldn’t handle the pressure as much as I thought I could. But, you know, these days I just figure I’m only panicking because it means so much to me. And I don’t think that makes me weak at all. It just means I care. Don’t feel ashamed about this, Y/n. All it means is that you care about hyung a lot.”

All the breath in your lungs leaves you in one rush as you prop your head in your hands, knees tucked towards your chest. “Yeah.” You wish you had something more appreciative to say, but your mind is waterlogged, weighed down and not functioning.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind the curt response. “I care about him a lot too. He’s like the glue for us, isn’t he? I’m worried to fall apart without him here keeping us in line. But we survived before we knew him and we’ll survive now. What’s better is supporting each other and waiting to see how we can support Yoongi-hyung, too.”

“You’re right,” you admit with a heavy breath, wiggling your toes to will energy back into them. “We’ll be okay.”

Namjoon bends sideways to bump your shoulder warmly. “That’s the spirit. Now; I’m happy to stay out here as long as you need, but Jungkook was the first one to notice you had been gone for a while, and I think he’s probably getting concerned by now. If you’re up to it, I can give you a hand to get inside and join the others again. What do you reckon?”

You lean your head back against the wall, taking a moment to consider. “What movie is he putting on next?”

“He mentioned wanting to check out Paw Patrol on Netflix.”

“Let me die out here,” you plead weakly.

Namjoon laughs, the sound like comfort itself, and stands up, offering you a hand. “Come on, kitten, up we get.”

In the end, the Netflix viewings manage to distract you for the rest of the night. When your limbs are tangled together and snacks are flowing, it’s easy to tune out of reality a bit and focus on the television screen in the comfort of shared company. Jungkook clears space on the couch for you the second you return, and clings to you for hours, his chin on your shoulder. You don’t complain, feeling soothed by the physical closeness. But the hours pass, and when the majority of you can no longer hold in your yawns, Seokjin gets up to turn the lights back on and clean up.

“Let’s get some rest,” he decides, and it’s that return to the real world that immediately dampens the atmosphere again, the group of you turning solemn. You pause to pull out your phone, sending Yoongi a quick message of support, and that you all missed him already, but no reply comes.

Without words being spoken, the seven of you remaining find yourselves flocking together as you make your way up to bed. Jin flanks the maknae as Namjoon and Hoseok lean heavily into each other, the four of them disappearing into Jin’s room. You naturally fall into step with the remaining two men, Taehyung linking his arm into yours and holding you close all the way to Jimin’s room.

Somehow, the house is too quiet. Even though Yoongi wasn’t a particularly noisy housemate, his absence cloaks the air.

You have no energy to shower. Washing your face is as much as you can manage, and Taehyung is even more despairing than you are, slumped on the toilet seat as Jimin cleans his face for him.

The uncertainty is what makes your heart flutter on edge, unable to wind down, and you know from the restrained looks of fear and distress in the guys’ eyes that they feel the same. The show would be undoubtably ruined if Yoongi couldn’t return. But more important than that, Yoongi would be ruined if he lost his father so suddenly.

Knowing Yoongi is hurting makes you ache, and you cling to your lovers like they’re your anchors in a churning sea, tucking your face firmly into Taehyung’s shoulder. It soothes you a little to be pinned between them, but the three of you still lie awake as the minutes blink by agonisingly slow.

At some point, you must fall into a fitful sleep, because when a sudden noise fills the room, it rouses you aggressively, and you almost kick Jimin’s shin in the process. Grunting, the half-asleep man rubs his face and twists around, fumbling on the nightstand for the offending noise.

It’s Taehyung’s phone, vibrating against the wooden table, and once Jimin blinks twice at the glaring screen he gasps and yanks the charger out, sitting up in bed. “It’s hyung,” he declares in a voice more vulnerable than you’d ever heard from him before. “Wake Tae.”

You force yourself to dispel those last few wisps of sleep from your brain, and gently shake Taehyung awake. According to the clock on the nightstand, it’s almost two in the morning, but your heart leaps as Yoongi’s face fills the phone screen, looking right at the three of you.

“I thought you would be together,” he states with a rueful smile, though you can see that it doesn’t quite reach his reddened eyes. “Sorry for calling so late.”

“Don’t apologise, hyung,” Taehyung whines, half of his weight on you as he leans in close, “we were so worried about you. How’s your dad?”

Yoongi’s brows furrow beneath mussed hair. “Not great,” he admits. “A little more stable, at least, but he’s pretty confused right now. Nurses worry that it might have affected his brain.”

Your heart sinks, both at the thought of a relatively young man suffering such awful health complications, but also at how Yoongi was trying to hide his exhaustion and distress. “Oh my god.”

“Mm, we should know soon what the damage is,” Yoongi explains further, rubbing his eyes with the hand not holding his phone aloft, “and if he’s alright I can head back h- head back to the Villa. He’s just been sleeping a lot today so… We don’t really know how he’ll be until he’s conscious for enough time. Yoonji’s with him at the moment, I just wanted to duck out and give you guys an update. Where are the others?”

“Jin-hyung’s room,” Jimin answers, even as he’s throwing back the covers. “They’ll want to hear from you themselves, just hold on a minute.”

You hear Yoongi’s voice echoing from the phone and strain to make out his words as Jimin heads to the door. “No, no, don’t wake them. I actually wanted to ask if you’d like to come visit? Of course none of you know my dad, and he doesn’t know you, but- Well, Yoonji and I could do with some company.”

You jump up, rushing to Jimin’s side. As he naturally accommodates your presence and pulls you flush against him, you lift your face up to the phone. “We’ll be there,” you assure Yoongi, “just please get some rest tonight. It’s been a rough day.”

Yoongi’s pained smile breaks your heart, and Jimin leads the phone back to the bed so that Taehyung can say a final goodbye before the three of you hang up and crawl, exhausted but somewhat relieved, back into bed.

#bts x reader #bts x reader smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #the gentlemen #tgm #yoongi x reader #jin x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

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colossal-fallout · 3 years

Note

You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna request something. Erwin, first time fucking in a long while and it's also the first time he attempts to do it after losing his arm.

Whole again

Femreader X Erwin Smith

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ Smut. Creampie. Angst.

Fortitude does not merit misery.

One should not be punished for bravery, yet here he was; your commander, your lover, suffering beyond just the physical. To everyone else, he seemed to be recovering well. He’d finally returned to being that clean shaven, well presented Commander of the Survey Corps that everyone was so used to seeing. It annoyed you how eager other people were to forget that he’d lost his entire right arm.

But hey; as long as he was still able to lead the survey corps, right?

You bite the inside of your cheek as your eyes flicker over to him as he stands in all of his glory gazing out of the window - the tangerine glow of the sunset a reflection of the darkening days ahead. You knew it. You could feel it in your bones.

Eren had been rescued, but the enemy had fled. And now, only two nights prior to the mission to Shiganshina, every fibre in your being was telling you that the enemy was lying in wait. Coiled and ready to spring at you like a snake, it’s venom destroying more of your already hard life. Of course, Erwin and his sharp mind already predicted what would possibly lie in wait - going over countless scenario’s of circumstances and hazards.

“Don’t be so bitter, my love.” Erwin’s words of comfort echoed in your memories from two weeks prior. “I’m no different to any other Soldier. If I only lost an arm and not my life, it’s a blessing.”

You knew that, of course you did.

But you also saw things others didn’t. Like right now; his empty gaze out of the window pane, taking in the possibility of this being one of the last beautiful sunsets he’ll ever see. He’s had to come to terms with his own mortality, and it was a huge, bitter pill to swallow. He wasn’t the invincible Commander Erwin Smith of the Survey Corps.

He was human.

He wasn’t like the enemy. He didn’t have regeneration abilities and the means to transform into a destructive force so great, it could wipe out an entire platoon. All he had was his head, his bravery and his men.

“Erwin…” You call out softly, his mind too far away to hear you. You place your hand onto his remaining arm softly, making him flinch out of his trance.

“Erwin.” You repeat with a frown. “Are you okay?”

He replies with a single nod, his eyes closing in a soft smile. “Yes. No need to worry yourself.”

He was doing it again. Hiding behind his reputation, his resolve. You knew it deep in your soul he was suffering, yet there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it.

Understandably, the two of you hadn’t been intimate for quite some time. Your touch starved body missed him and the feel of just his warmth under his shirt in your palm was enough to entice you into softly nuzzling into his neck, your lips caressing his skin and your breath tempting him into turning his head and rub his cheek into the top of your scalp.

He’d missed you too. His breath pushes out into a deep sigh, as he takes your hand and gently guides you over to the bed where he pulls you onto his lap. You feel the solid muscles of his large thigh beneath you, his arm snaking around your waist to hold you steady as he gazes into your eyes.

“I know you’re worried about me.” He utters with such soft syllables, it was enough to send a warm sensation cascade through your chest, down into the pit of your stomach. “But we both have known from the day we met, our time together is temporary. In this line of work… tomorrow is not a guarantee. You’ve forgotten that, it seems.”

Your eyes enlarge, filling with pain at his gentle yet sharp words. But you knew he was right. And yes, you’d gotten content in your relationship with him. But you couldn’t blame yourself. Erwin Smith was a compassionate, understanding lover who made you feel safe, loved and cherished. How could you not subconsciously cling to that so hard, it filters through into your delusional reality?

“I know.” You whisper.

His kind smile of empathy presses against your cheek. “I love you, my queen.”

“I love you too.” You furiously hold back the tears threatening your eyes. This was no time to be leaning on him. He needed you right now.

You hide your pain by visually shutting out his face, closing your eyes and pushing your mouth against his hungrily, your fingers grazing through his blonde strands as his grip on your tightens, his receptive mouth returning your affections. It didn’t matter how many times you’d made love in the past. Every single time was a new rush, a rush of adrenaline far richer than any from any battle you’d been in or training exercise.

He pulls away from your touch, eyebrows furrowing in hunger before clearing his throat.

“It’ll be the first time since I…”

“It’s okay.” You comfort.

Until he’d gotten accustomed to having only one arm, you were more than happy to do all of the work. In fact, how could you not after the months and months of him going above and beyond for you in bed, every. single. time?

You gently push at his solid chest, his jaw slackening as you lay him flat and straddle his waist, your kisses returning to his mouth as his hand paws at your form firmly. You feel his cock already stirring against your crotch through his trousers, his one arm still strong enough to push your hips back and forth, the friction of his crotch rubbing against your clit as your tongues entwine in a sloppy dance.

You heat up at the sound of his breath quickening, a sound you’d missed oh so much.

“I’ve missed you…” He grumbles as if reading your mind, his eyebrows knitting and eyes heavy lidded.

You respond by sitting up and removing your shirt, your perfect breasts spilling out into the open air, your nipples standing to attention. You feel his abs roll under you as he sits up slightly, encasing one into his warm mouth, kissing it as if your nipple were your tongue.

Teeth biting your lip you run your hands around his head, enjoying the feeling of his soft clean strands as he groans into your flesh his hand sliding up to your ribcage and squeezing you.

“Erwin…” You sigh, throwing back your head as his teeth start to nip and pull at your nub.

“It’s been too long…” His growl is guttural; his eyes hazed with lust as he slowly morphs into some sort of feral beast. “Ride me, princess.”

“Yes, sir.” You smirk as he lays back down, shuffling and getting comfortable as you pull down the top of his pants, his huge king cock springing free. Your mouth waters at the familiar scent of his pre-cum that rolls out as soon as the removal of material takes place, your hands hastily taking off your own pants, not able to move quick enough. You tremble as you balance on your knees, your hands ripping Erwin’s shirt open revealing his ripped, muscular body; his buttons flying everywhere as a low chuckle emits from his throat.

“I think you’ve missed too.”

“Of course I have.” You breathe, lining his huge gleaming head at your entrance that is coated with thick slick.

He groans loudly and arches his back, your mouth opening in a silent scream as you slowly lower yourself down onto him, his massive head squashing into your tiny hole. It’s slow progress to get him all the way in, your starved insides slowly ingesting him whole like some sort of Cobra with its prey.

Your name leaves his mouth, his eyes glued down to your pretty pussy splitting apart at his girth, the colour of your lips washing out from being stretched so beautifully wide.

“Mmm… that’s a good girl.” He praises with a hiss once you’re finally down at his base. “You take me so well.”

“Erwin...” You whimper; the feeling of being so full with him making your eyes roll as he resumes to move your hips with his hand, his fingertips digging into your flesh harshly. The grazing of his pubic hair against your clit as well as his fat shaft pushing against your g-spot was too much to handle, your nails desperately sinking into his pectorals with glee. Soft moans vibrate him as he watches your goddess form take so much pleasure from his dick, your arousal already leaking down onto his balls and pubic bone.

He can’t take it. He suddenly hooks his strong arm around you, pulling you down and smashing your mouth against his as he holds you in place against him, his hips thrusting up into you with force and speed, your loud cries only turning him more towards the realms of hysteria.

“God Erwin! Ah~! Ah~! I can’t take it… It’s too good!” You sob as he smashes into you even harder, his loud groans only accompanied by the sounds of his balls slapping against your skin and the bed creaking beneath you in loud thumps.

His eyes cross as he gazes into your very soul, his lips parted in awe and his cheeks flushing as he relentlessly hits into you over and over and over again.

“You’re so wet for me, darling.” He pants, his arm still hooked around over your back, his feet now flat on the mattress, taking as much leverage into you as he possibly could. “Do I make you feel good? Do I still know how to fuck my queen?!”

“Yes, yes, oh god yes!” You cry, your innards being well and truly scrambled into a sloppy mess. “It’s the best Erwin! Oh god… I’m so close!”

“I know…” He smirks’ your walls beginning to spasm around him, milking his length. “Squeeze me. Take every last drop I have.” He commands, his own orgasm swirling in the pit of his lower stomach.

“Yes, Erwin…” Your cognitive functions cease as you both implode, his thick cream surging out of him into you, as your insides certainly do juice him for all he’s worth. You’re both still cuming as his warm white liquid fills you so full, it’s already leaking out of your pussy, down onto his balls - his long loud and gruff groan too much to handle as you fall into the void together.

You were happy when Erwin seemed to want more sex after your recovery - that small glint behind his eye seemingly returning for the night as you both make love for the rest of the evening. Between sessions of fucking until you’re both sore, you’d laugh together and have pillow talk and even eat in bed. You had your Erwin remerge for you, his old confident and laid back self visible once again, you could hardly contain your joy. And all it took was for you to make him feel whole again. As the night drew on that was filled with your sweet laughter and a reignited hope for the future with your love; little did you know that beyond that horizon lay Shiganshina, waiting for your arrival.

And that this night together with your love would be your last.

#snk season 4 #erwin x y/n #erwin x you #attack on titan erwin #snk erwin #erwin #erwin smith #aot erwin #commander erwin #snk imagines #snk #snk smut #snk angst #aot smut #aot angst

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jjmaybanksbaby · 3 years

Text

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer I

Part 02: That James Deam Daydream

series masterlist | previous part

summary: After the car accident, you haven’t been able to get Rafe out of your mind but hasn’t he already caused enough trouble?

a/n: With the semester ending I have a lot more free time so I plan on updating this series more consistently (ie weekly)!! I’m also gonna start a taglist for this series so if you want to be added to it drop a ☀️ in my inbox/messages!

word count: 1.5k

The fluorescent lights of the hospital flooded your vision as you blinked your groggy eyes open. The machines you were connected to beeped slow and hypnotically beside you. You could feel the pain that would ripple through your body with every movement before had even attempted to sit up. Your breathing was labored and forced, an unusual sensation.

Your mom entered the room carrying two cups of steaming coffee which she placed on the small table in the corner of the room as soon as she noticed you were awake. She sat down quickly in the chair that was situated on the left side of your hospital bed. She automatically took your hand in hers.

"Oh, good, honey. You're awake. How are you feeling?" She asked, her brow knit together in concern. The bags under her eyes seemed to give you some indication of how long you'd been out. Your mother was always the most put together in the room. Her dirty blonde hair, the same color as yours, always gave the allusion of having been freshly blown out. Her makeup never looked chalky or stale, a skill you'd never quite been able to replicate. She lived in black blazers and stilettos, her purse resting in the nook of her arm.

The person holding tightly onto your hand in that hospital room was an entirely different version of your mom. One that two days ago had gotten a call that her daughter had gotten into a car crash, thrown a bunch of clothes in a suitcase, and board the first available flight from Oregon to the Outer Banks.

Your eyelids drooped, it was taking all your energy to keep them open so you let them close.

"Mom," you said, your voice coming out just barely above a whisper. "What happened?" You asked, even though you remembered most of what had happened the night of the crash.

The way you'd scrapped your knee climbing out of your window of your Nonna's house. The beautiful Cameron boy. The bonfire and the stink eye Phoebe had given you all night. The headlights of the car bellowing down the wrong side of the road. Rafe's hand grabbings yours.

Your mom reached up and brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen onto your face. "You were in a car crash y/n. The other car hit the side of the one you were in and pushed you into a ditch. The force of the airbag fractured your rib which punctured your lung. The doctors said you're gonna be okay but they're keeping you on an IV drip of some pain meds."

Your chest did feel heavy but not just from the injuries.

"Wh- what about Rafe? Is he okay?" You forced yourself to open your eyes.

Your mom breathed in sharply. "He's okay. He left the hospital yesterday with his dad with only a concussion and a broken wrist."

"Mmmhmm." You mumbled in acknowledgment. You could feel sleep taking over once again. "I love you." You said to your mom before drifting off.

☼☼☼

Your bed was littered with the clothes you should have been packing because your flight left early tomorrow morning but instead, you were laying on the floor staring up at the ceiling, the fan whirling around rapidly. The August heat had seeped into the house, causing you to break into a sweat with the smallest movement. The sounds of the conversation between your Nonna and mom echoed from downstairs. You were sure they were probably arguing about you, again.

Your mom hadn't been able to let the accident go even though. You tried to explain to her how you'd left the house without your Nonna's permission so it wasn't like it was totally her fault. You sighed, wincing at the pain that still ran through your body when you took too deep a breath.

A tiny ping filled your ears causing you to sit up.

Ping. There it was again.

A third peddle hit your window. You walked over to it, sliding it open to see Rafe standing on the lawn below.

Your breath hitched. You hadn't seen him since that night but he looked exactly the same except for the black splint on his wrist.

"Hi," he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth so his voice carried.

You glanced over your shoulder nervous that your mom or Nonna were going to walk into the room at any moment having heard Rafe's shouting.

"Come up here," you replied, waving him up to your room.

With a surprising amount of speed for someone with only one good wrist, he pulled himself up the side of the porch and climbed through your window.

His eyes meet yours as he landed on the carpet and words escaped you entirely. The sparks that had been there that night hadn't disappeared at all.

"Hey, stranger," Rafe said, failing to hold back a smirk.

"Nice cast," you replied.

He looked down at it and quickly back up at you. "I'm sorry about everything. I promised to get you home safe and then got us into a car crash. Not exactly how I pictured the night ending." He forced a laugh but the regret in his voice was unmissable.

You took a step closer to him. "You don't have to apologize Rafe. You did everything you could. And I'm okay. You're okay. We're alive." There was more you wanted to say but the words seemed to disappear before you could form them.

Rafe closed the distance between the two of you stopping right in front of you. "God, I like you so much and I really fucked it up. Didn't I?"

This time a genuine laugh escaped you. "I think we might be able to salvage it." You responded feeling unusually bold. You grabbed his face, pulling him down to your level and placed an urgent kiss on his lips.

He slipped his own hand behind your neck, keeping your mouth pressed against his. The air around you was electric and neither of you dared to pull away first.

The door to your bedroom swung open and your Nonna's loud stern voice suddenly took over.

"Y/n y/l/n."

You stepped away from Rafe quickly, dropping your arms to your side. You turned around to face your Nonna. Her face was set with anger.

"Out Mr. Cameron." She instructed.

"Right. I was just leaving." He replied, moving back towards the window.

"Out the front door." Your Nonna clarified.

"Oh, yeah. Of course. My bad." Rafe said. His eyes connected with yours for just a moment as he walked out of the room. Your head the front door close behind him a few beats later.

You stayed frozen in the middle of the room, awaiting the lecture you knew was coming next.

Your Nonna crossed the room and shut the window.

"You're letting all the a/c out." She said, dryly.

"I'm sorry," you responded, apologizing for more than leaving the window open.

"A Cameron boy almost ruined your mother's life. I won't let the same thing happen to you." Your Nonna pushed some of your clothes aside and sat down on the bed.

"Your mom," she started again. "She started dating Rafe's dad, Ward, during her junior year. He was a year older and going to UNC in the fall. She wanted to follow him after she graduated high school. She thought she loved him and I told her no. Told her she could pick anywhere else but I wouldn't pay for her to throw her life away for puppy love. They broke up in October of her senior year. She barely spoke more than a few words to me for months. Then she moved away to California for college and didn't call me her entire freshman year. It was the hardest thing I've had to do as a mother. It almost ruined me. Ruined our relationship. But he was never going to really make her happy. He didn't love her like she loved him and it would never have lasted and then she'd be stuck at a school that she hadn't chosen for herself." Your Nonna looked up at you as she finished speaking.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" She asked. "That Cameron boy isn't good for you." Your Nonna stood up and walked over to you. She placed a kiss on your forehead. "I love you, muffin."

"I love you too." You replied. "I gotta finish packing."

"Okay," she said, closing the door behind her as she walked out of your room.

You flopped backward onto your bed and let out an audible groan. You had finally kissed Rafe Cameron and of course, your Nonna had to walk in at that moment.

Your phone, which had been previously discarded in the mess on your bed, buzzed. You pulled it out from under a pile of swimsuits. A text from Rafe popped up on the screen.

r: 'I'm officially scared of your grandma.'

y/n: 'hahah did you know our parents dated in hs?'

r: 'Really? I didn't. Weird.'

r: 'When do you leave?'

y/n: 'tomorrow moring'

The three dots showing that Rafe was typing appeared the screen up again and then went away. You waited another moment before turning your phone off and tossing it to the side.

You knew your Nonna just wanted the best for you but it wasn't gonna be easy to get Rafe Cameron out of your head.

#outer banks #obx #obx netflix #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfic #outer banks fanfic #outer banks series #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron obx #where it leads series #where it leads

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lihikainanea · 3 years

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so it's summer and it's great but the heat is absolutely unforgiving. what if Tiger gets like, a reaction from the excessive sweat that this season brings and there's like a rash-like discoloration on the sides of her body, her back? I get these every summer and, it's hard to look at myself in the mirror when I put the cream on so they go away. I'm thinking Bill would help, but after Tiger lets him since she's a lil embarrassed and shy about them.

Ohhh bubs, I feel you. I have SUCH sensitive skin that I swear, I cry and then I have to spend like a week treating the eczema outbreak on my face that my own goddamn tears cause.

The heat and all that comes along with it can have some icky side effects and my girl tiger ain't spared. Heat rash? yep. Mild sun allergy that causes a rash? Yep. Hives because she's basically allergic to everything outside? Yep. Eczema outbreak because all the rashes are stressing her out? Yep.

Are we even going to talk about underboob and thigh chafe? Shit, yes we are because this is some real life BULLSHIT that most of us have to deal with.

And what if it's exactly that. Hear me out. She's been purposely avoiding getting nekkid with Bill for a few days--She's got this weird heat rash that's going down one side, itchy as all hell and red and bumpy. She manages to camouflage most of it with a loose fitting sundress, something of breathable material, but she just happens to need a strapless bra with it--and strapless bras are an Enemy of the Goddamn State, man. Maybe it's a nice cocktail hour at a schmancy new bar that opened so she's dressed cute, except one of her completely heat-resistant friends got them all a table outside because clearly this friend was born and raise din the fires of Hades, so a heatwave doesn't bother them. It's outside, and tiger is fucking dying. The sweat running down her side is making her itch even more and burning the sensitive, already-irritated skin there. She feels like she's fucking melting into a puddle under the blaze of the hot sun, which she's pretty sure is searing her make up off. She feels like a swamp monster.

And if that's not bad enough--the group decides to walk for ice cream after. They decide to walk QUITE a long ways for ice cream. And all that sweat that she has going underneath her dress is just making her bra dig into the fragile skin under her breasts, and the more her thighs rub together as she walks the more she can feel the chafe like, peeling off a layer of her fucking skin and she wants to die.

And Bill for his part is kind of walking a bit ahead with his boys, maybe it's been awhile since he's seen them so he's not keenly aware of the absolute hell that tiger is currently in. Until she snaps when, after ice cream, it's time to walk alllllllll the way back to the car.

"Fuck this," she mutters, "I'm out." And then a little louder. "Bill, I'm out."

He gives her a worried look, taking a few long strides until he's back with her.

"Okay kid," he says, "We can leave as soon as we get back to the car."

"Yep." She smiles, wide and scary--but doesn't move.

"It's...It's this way," he gestures somewhat helplessly to the direction everyone else continues walking in.

"Sure is."

She still doesn't move.

"....tiger?"

He jumps a mile when she lets out the loudest whistle he's ever heard, nearly giving him an uppercut as her hand shot up quickly. A cab came to a screeching halt, and she opened the door.

Confused but knowing better than to argue, Bill folded himself in half in the back seat as the cab drove them the 3 minute distance to the car.

"Are you....okay?" he asks cautiously as she buckles up her seatbelt in his car, and tiger just...man, tiger wants to go home. She's so uncomfortable, she's so itchy, everything burns, she's still overheated and she's just so over this night.

"I'm tired and too hot," she says instead, "Just take me home."

And like, look. Once they're home? Bill goes to unzip her dress because she always needs help with it, but tiger kind of smacks his hands away and huffs. He doesn't think much of it, she's just fussy and in a bad mood and she doesn't always want to be touched when she's feeling that way. And tiger, in the meantime, is just trying to locate either some calamine lotion or some cortisone cream or hell just a million ice packs that she can place on her side, between her thighs, under her breasts--everywhere that just seems on fire at the moment.

She heads to the bathroom, closing the door so she can rummage the cupboards in peace. She finally takes the dress off and flings her bra across the room and she winces at what she sees in the mirror. Her entire side is red and bumpy, an angry, itchy rash scaling up her torso. Tenderly, she rubs the skin under her breasts and bites her lip in pain--the skin there is raised, bright red, irritated and stinging. A quick check on her inner thighs reveals the same thing. She sighs, running the tap so that Bill won't hear her.

But listen, Bill? Bill just thinks she's washing her face, and he wanders in with a little whisky digestif and to see if he can entice her into taking a bubble bath with him. He opens the door and tiger shrieks, grabbing at a towel to cover herself--but not before he got a good view of what seems like half her body, bright red and irritated.

"Tiger," he gasps softly, "Kid what happened?"

"Bill get out," she squeaks, wrapping the towel around herself.

"No," he says. He yanks at her towel but she smacks his hand away.

"Bill," she says, a tad more angry now, "Leave me alone."

"No," he says again, "Tiger, show me."

"No."

"Tiger," it's his turn to be stern now, "We have rules. And so help me, if you don't drop that fucking towel then there will be another part of you that is bright fucking red. Now show me."

"It's okay," she sighs defeatedly, "It's just... a bit irritated."

She opens the towel a tad, showing him her side. Bill puts the whiskey glasses down and hold the towel open, leaning to get a closer look.

"What happened?" he asks softly, "Are you allergic to something?"

"No," she mumbles--god this is embarassing--"It's just...the heat. It gave me a bit of a rash that won't go away."

He nods, his eyebrows knitting together, and he tugs gently to undo the knot on her towel. When she protests he gives her a stern look and she sighs, letting him undo her covering. Gently, he runs his fingers along the side of her breasts and trail them down her rib cage.

"And here?"

"Strapless bra, sweat, and rubbing," she winces when he hits a sensitive spot and he apologizes, "Recipe for disaster."

He nods, his eyes sweeping over her looking for more markings.

"Anywhere else?" he asks after a beat. Tiger bites her lip, and he gently tugs it free with his thumb. She sighs, giving up, and rests her foot on the toilet so he can see her inner thigh.

"Dump truck thigh chafe," she says, "It's a killer."

He leans, kissing the marking softly.

"Oatmeal," he says as he stands and turns for the door, "A lukewarm oatmeal bath, and some calamine lotion."

"Bill, I'm handling it. It's not--"

But he spins back around.

"We. Have. Rules." every word is short, curt, and accentuated with a step as he backs her up to the tub and looms tall over her, "Don't we sweet girl?"

"Yes."

"And do you think that hiding this from me--spending the evening in discomfort and pain and not telling me anything--is that following the rules?" he asks. God he's authoritative when he's like this.

"Probably not?" she tries. A quick, challenging quirk of his brow and suddenly she's not so brave. "No, it's not following the rules."

"And trying to stop me from taking care of it when I do find out, is that following the rules?"

"No," she says meekly, "It's not."

"That's right, it's not," he says and he kisses her softly, "So you're going to let me take care of these markings, and then you're going to get some brand new ones."

And listen, Bill is more just pissed that tiger was in pain, clearly for at least a few days, and she didn't tell him. He's even more pissed that she sat there so uncomfortable that night, and also didn't tell him. But he puts his anger aside to care for her first--and an oatmeal bath it is, he gets in there with her and soaks while they sip their whiskey. And when they get out, he carefully dabs calamine lotion all over her--giving it a second to dry before pulling his big shirt over her head.

"Bedroom," he says, "Now."

Tiger slinks away--but also, man, what if our girl just ain't feeling it tonight? Yes, she was bad. Yes, she broke the rules. She's a little small about it but she's dealing okay, and truth be told she just...ugh, the thought of another patch of her skin being red and irritated and sore from a spanking is just kind of too much for her. It's a discomfort and a pain that she just doesn't feel up to dealing with tonight, after already spending so much time uncomfortable. SO maybe she's kneeling on his side of the bed when he comes in to find her, and as he approaches she just kind of thunks her head on his thigh, fiddles with the waistband of his boxers.

"Bill," she says softly, "Can I...can you punish me tomorrow for this? I've had enough discomfort for today. I don't want it."

Bill's heart could explode. He smiles at her--big and wide and totally dopey, hooks his hand around her arms and sets her on her feet gently.

"Good girl," he purrs, kissing her deeply, "My good girl."

She coos a little at that, and he tucks her into his chest for a tight hug.

"You tell me when you're ready to be punished kid, and we'll do it then," he tells her. She nods, and when he lays out in bed tiger just lies flat on his chest, sticks his thumb in her mouth, and starts snoring a few seconds later. Bill just lovingly tends to her for the next day or two--lukewarm baths, lots of calamine, lots of unscented soothing lotions--and then eventually after a few days when he's sitting on the couch playing a video game, tiger just walks in, shimmies out of her panties and lies across his lap.

"Let's have it bud," she tells him, "Make it hurt."

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill

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pbandjesse · 2 years

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Someone just rang the doorbell? Just once. I don't trust it. I'm not going to check. If it's someone locked out they can text the group chat.

Today was a pretty good day but I was not as productive. I was still productive. Just not as much. I am very tired right now but I don't want to sleep until James gets home from their concert. I hope they are having fun.

I slept really well last night but I had wild and active dreams. I was working at a museum at a kids birthday party and it was very strange but in that way that everything felt very real, but a little off center.

When I woke up I felt very tired because of this. I took forever getting up. James was making pancakes for us. And that was the only thing motivating me to get out of bed.

I got dressed. I love this new dress. I want to make my own patchwork dress but for now this is just fine. And it has pockets.

I enjoyed my pancakes. I made the bed. I felt cute.

My big plan today was to catch up on my knitting. I was four days behind so it took me more then an hour but I would get it done. Even if I was a little distracted and kept stopping.

James would help me do a partial water change on Frenchy's tank. We also moved around some of the decor in their because I felt like he didn't have enough space to walk around. It's much better now.

James did laundry. And I worked on some watercoloring. Knocked out the rest of the prints I made yesterday. I love how much the color adds to the prints. I for sure will be adding color to a lot of them going forward because it makes them feel so much more finished.

James and their cousin Drew were going to a Mitski concert tonight and would need to take our car to DC. Which normally would be fine but I had work at 3. We decided I would bike, even if I was a little nervous.

Because of that nervousness I left a little after 2. It was very windy!! And cold!!! Which did not help.

It took me almost 40 minutes to get to the museum. I was very cold and the wind was hard to bike against. I was so exhausted and winded by the time I got to the museum. And then no one was answering the door so I was stuck outside for a bit. I walked to the water but would head back and Kelly let me in.

This was a weird day at work. Events are always great. And this was a huge one. But it wasn't corporate or a wedding. It was a celebration of life.

I still don't exactly know who this person was, his name was Jeff and he was clearly very loved. There were almost 200 people there and I was told they had to give out tickets because it they didn't it would have been 500 people. And the energy was odd, some tears, lots of laughs, people meeting again for the first time in a long time. I met a lot of lovely people. But I think no one knew where their energy should be.

But it was a nice afternoon. I had some people come back to the galleries and I got to share some stories. I found myself mostly just talking about the history of the museum, and plans for the musuem future. And how I can work at a place like this, these were all like real business people so I guess they were just curious how I make it work. It's nice that I kind of am making it work now, finally, even if I'm a little to busy right now.

Kelly made sure I got to eat. I got to try a blueberry goat cheese and had bread with jam and a bunch of berries. It was a nice snack. I stayed in the galleries a little later. And then I would turn off the lights and close up the rooms and head out.

I wanted tacos so I biked up to the shopping center and got my tacos and enjoyed my podcast. I walked around the shopping center to finish my drink before I started back home. I knew it would be tough but I didn't realize how bad this was going to be for me.

It was a combination of many things. Going uphill. The wind. The cold. Being out of practice. But it would take me most of an hour and I almost passed out a few times. I was hyperventilating for so much of it. I avoided hills as best I could. And would actually get off the bike twice to walk up hills I couldn't avoid. But I was having a miserable time. My face and ears and hands burned from the cold. I couldn't breathe. I was really upset.

I also went a weird way home to try to avoid as many hills as I could but I live in a place named for a hill so it's hard to avoid. When I made it to Mt Vernon where I sued to live I was like. I miss living here!!! Which isn't exactly true but I wished I was home and not only barely more then half way there.

I would finally make it home and I was not having a good time. My head was pounding my whole body felt damp and raw. I was able to get my bike upstairs. But I was shaking. I tried to wash my face but decided to take a full shower instead.

It would take almost an hour before I felt a little better. I played a little Pokemon and drank water. And by 8 I was alright enough and got into my art.

I made more prints. And fed Sweetp. And thought about organizing my clothes but decided not to do that today. Maybe tomorrow. I picked up a few things around the apartment. And now I am in bed.

James says they will be back by midnight and I hope that is true. They also said they have a piece of merch from the show for me so that's cool.

I am working at the museum tomorrow but I hope I can have a productive afternoon. And I hope you all have a great night. Take care of each other. Goodnight!!

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jjaeong · 4 years

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The Heiress, And The Twelve. Act I.

Episode IV: Courage, Is Not The Absence Of Fear.

Series: KPOP Girl Group: 이달의 소녀 (LOONA).

Pairing: OT12 & Mafia Heiress Female Reader.

Summary: The esteemed guests had finally paid the Y/L/N Family a visit, to which the members could have never expected the reason exactly as to why. But along with the confusion that their visitors had brought with them, was at the price of something shifting within Y/N at the situation she had been put up to.

[TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE, INVOLVES MENTION OF BLOOD AND WEAPONRY. READ UNTIL 9’S PHONE CALL IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS.]

“Have you ever heard of the story about felines predicting catastrophes before humans could even detect them?”

Hyunjin stared blankly at the man that walked in front of her with his hands held behind his back, a serene expression set on his features as his eyes gazed over to the blooming flowers that had surrounded his garden. At each exit of the field, several men in black suits had stood to guard them while the young girl with the oversized yellow cardigan tailed behind the tall man whom had graying strands on his hair, to which oddly made him seem much more wise than he was ought to be. But Hyunjin found that idea false, for the man that had stood in with his back turned to her had always spoke with a heavy tone in his voice—as if he had thoroughly picked through each of his sentences with extra thought, it was the exact reason why she’d allowed herself to become a part of their Family, after all.

“I’ve heard of it once, from Yves-unnie.. I think. When she was sitting by the courtyard.” the man hummed in response, stopping in his tracks and turning to face the thin tree that had stood next to him—eyes examining the flowers that had bloomed from them before smiling softly and looking down at Hyunjin.

“When I was around your age, my parents had always kept a few animals in the house—to the point of it looking almost like an animal sanctuary rather than a home to a Mafia Family,” Hyunjin’s eyes stayed locked on the tree as the man resumed his stroll, keeping enough distance to be able to listen to his story before she had rushed to follow after him, “it may sound odd—because what did you expect a house filled with hitmen roaming freely, fully armed at all times to look like—but you’d definitely not expect to find a deer to be standing by one of the ponds, drinking from it’s pool while a family of swans passes by and a butterfly sitting on top of one of it’s antlers..” the young girl tilted her head at the mention of the animals, feeling the weight that the memory had carried from how the man’s tone changed from simple reminiscing to the sudden somberness that had switched after he teased his Family’s lifestyle.

“One of my greatest friends, whom was also the Heir to his Family’s name always had this sparkle in his eyes whenever he’d visit, stating that how our Family had lived was so different compared to his—our home felt more of like a refuge than the active warzone that he had called his own,” Hyunjin’s lips pulled into a small smile just as the man peeked behind him to also smile at the girl, shrugging his shoulders before raising a hand to run his fingers through the flowers as the passed—something that Hyunjin followed as well but only by walking close to them and lifting her finger in an shy manner, “he’d always tell me that one day, he could only hope that he could build such peace with his Family—though he did wish that our Families had never split apart.”

“The separation between the Mun Family and Jin Family.” Hyunjin whispered, peeking over to catch a glimpse at the man as if he would confirm if her answer was correct—to which he did, nodding but pulling his hand back to rest behind him again as they strolled peacefully through the spring air.

“Our Families together ruled thousands of territories, commanded over millions of men—so much strength to which was soon overcome with overpowering ambition, the Jin Family never knew when to stop and so they brought it upon themselves to be left by another family whom had stayed true to their colors to this day.”

“Kim,” Hyunjin answered, more confidently this time. Her brows knitted in concentration as she recalled the notes that she had scattered all over her and Heejin’s bedroom floor, the older girl’s whining ringing in the back of her head as Hyunjin kept repeating keywords to herself as the other girl tried to sleep, “out of the three major Families, they’re the wealthiest when it comes to land and associates.”

“We don’t usually take sides, but if it comes to a war of some sort—they’d learn to lean on us, as we would to them.” the two then stopped in the middle of an empty pond, the only view from the structure was the flowing waterfall and several koi’s that had swam freely through the clear water.

“Before Jin had declared war against our Family—with Mother as the boss at the time—our home was attacked the night before, I was just about to go to bed after studying the entire day when this.. Yellow cat, a Maine Coon,” Hyunjin looked over to the man, finding his arms crossed but Hyunjin’s eyes locked onto the glimmering blue ring that was set in his finger—running a thumb on the gem as he looked at the pond as he recalled that night, “she had always sat on my Mother’s lap, but she’d always seem to have watched over me as I slept. And so on the night of the attack, she had woke me up by biting onto my finger until I had eventually awakened—with our people leading me out of my quarters just before I heard the gun shots start ringing.” the man turned to look down at the younger girl whom met his gaze half-way, the battered aura that the girl with wide eyes had usually carried was almost overshadowed by the amazement and curiosity that the girl had currently beheld.

“The yellow cat passed away just as I became boss, almost a year before my parents had passed due to old age. But those animals had aided me in my survival for my short-lived childhood, they were more of my allies than they were my parents’ pets.” Hyunjin tore her gaze away from the man to eye his ring that rested on his arm yet again, nodding in understanding before facing the pond with the man soon following after her.

“I see her in you, Kim Hyunjin,” the man couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh at how odd it sounded, the personification of the animal and to the child he had just been introduced to within the year—but he knew it to himself that he had to let the younger girl know, “I believe that you have the same gift as she did—though you haven’t entirely shown signs of it yet—you have the same spirit inside of you just waiting to be awakened. You’re a special girl, I hope you don’t ever forget that.”

Hyunjin felt her heart hammering against her chest as her eyes snapped back to what was currently happening in front of her, the voices she managed to tune out after they've entered through the doors, exchanged pleasantries pierced through her bubble of sudden recollection of the conversation between her and the past boss a few years ago. She scanned the men that had stood by the bottom of the steps, surrounded by over a thousand of your people as a man with a prince-like aura to him smiled cunningly at Haseul—almost trying his best to appeal to her for them to carry on with whatever they had wished to plead.

"My name is Joshua, and here standing beside me are my members—Jihoon, Mingyu, Jeonghan, Wonwoo—and our Heir, Lee Chan," Joshua gestured to the suit-clad men that stood behind him before placing a hand on Lee Chan's shoulder, the weight of his hand seemingly heavy as Joshua practically pulled him from where he stood to almost offer him to the Leader—something which Sooyoung visibly winced at and Haseul could only eye the group for, "he had ordered us to search the city, for a particular friend of ours that had been left.. Unhinged."

"Unhinged..? What do you mean?!" Sooyoung's commanding voice made Joshua falter in his position and had the Heir taking a step back, as if he was already cowering in fear when he felt a more gentler hands rest on his shoulders this time—the man with the long hair named Jeonghan smiled up at Sooyoung whom looked furious compared to the different sets of expressions that had been plastered on her members' features.

"We're not looking for any trouble, we're just here for our friend. We've come here to inform you of that."

"And you didn't consult us.. On the first day of your search?" Haseul slowly dragged, eyes moving from one member to another as she now had placed a hand on her hip, to which the tallest of the bunch—Mingyu—let out a nervous laugh that echoed through the tense atmosphere before making eye contact with Joshua who's eye could only twitch at him. He then shut his mouth and inched himself closer to a stone-faced Wonwoo, eyes dead set on Heejin who had refused to meet his gaze since they've entered the courtyard.

"And this friend of yours—you're certain that he's in this city?" Mingyu couldn't seem to keep himself neutral, nodding in an almost child-like manner as Haseul questioned them. Chan lifted his head to look grimly at Haseul's pondering gaze, he swallowed sharply just before pulling himself away from Jeonghan's hands, getting down to his knees and bowing down completely to the Leader, leaving everyone in shock at the pitiful scene.

"Dino—"

"Please help us, Y/L/N Boss! I'm begging you!" he cried, continuing to plead with his forehead against the gravel and his members stunned as they stood behind him. The smile plastered on Joshua's face slowly fell into a contemptuous expression as he stared down at his boss before he got down on his knees to completely face the man, placing his hands on his arms in attempt of getting him back up on his feet but the boss pushed him back with tears falling freely from his eyes.

"No! They'll kill him, Hyung! He's lost his mind but we can't just—he's still my brother!" Chan shouted at his member who slowly fumed at his boss' words, which made Mingyu quickly spring into action and grab ahold of Joshua as the man thrashed in his hold.

"That's what I'm trying to stop—you idiot! You think I want him dead!? He's as much of a brother to me as he was to you—"

"Shut up!" Sooyoung's voice cut through the heated argument before the boss and his member, leaving the two silenced in their positions as they glared harshly at one another. Sooyoung pinched the bridge of her nose before turning to Haseul who could only stare at the commotion in thought before she slowly ascended the steps and got onto Chan's level, the boss almost cowering in fear but the small smile that had graced Haseul's features had offered a slight ease to the man.

"This.. Brother of yours, do you have any idea where he could be right now?"

"Hyunjin!? What—hey! Unnie, help!" Sooyoung rushed to the other side of the entrance to where Heejin had practically held her best friend up on her feet, the men that had surrounded the meeting had pulled out their pistols and had them pointed at the members of the Lee Family. Haseul stood from her spot as Heejin and Sooyoung practically carried Hyunjin back into the Mansion with the Leader motioning for the goons to put their guns down—turning to look back down at the Lee Family with a completely blank expression on her face, asking them to follow her inside and talk to her about it in the lounge.

"Yah! Kim Hyunjin! You're crazy—get a grip!" Heejin's alarmed tone rang through Hyunjin's ears as the two members sat her down in the infirmary, one of the nurses that had been Kahei's pupil quickly excused herself at the sight of the three, knowing well enough that they were all capable of the same practices as she'd learnt from the Fifth girl—but if any of the three would be an exception in the art of medicine, it would be Ha Sooyoung.

"No, no—This isn't normal, Yves-unnie," Sooyoung placed her fingers over the girl's pulse on her throat as her other hand worked on checking her temperature then gently tugging down on the bottom lid of her eye, "Yves-unnie you have to listen to me, something's wrong—" Heejin had placed a bucket right next to Hyunjin just the girl looked just about ready to pass out. Sooyoung then told Heejin to grab the girl some water as she firmly held Hyunjin in place, not wanting to make the girl any dizzier in her already rattled state.

"Hyunjin, you need to breathe."

"I am! But please, call Jinsoul-unnie. Call her right now, this is—they're in danger! Unnie—just listen to me!" Sooyoung's eyes scanned the pleading girl's teary eyes, failing to find a hint of any uncertainty and so once Heejin had returned to the room, Sooyoung quickly instructed the girl to watch over her best friend before leaving the room and taking her phone out to dial Jinsol's number.

"Sol."

"Are you in the school right now?" Jinsol furrowed her brows at the question, pulling her phone away from her ear to stare at the caller ID that had clearly shown the number '9' before she pressed it back against her ear, looking down at the sandwich in hand and then the fast food place that had almost felt as if it was inviting her to buy more. Jinsol couldn't help but shake her head at the thought before sighing to herself, pulling the door open to let herself inside the car and shut the door behind her.

"No? It's my break time."

"Jinsoul—do you even know what the time is!?" the dark haired girl winced at Sooyoung's bitter tone as she started the engine and pairing her phone to the speakers, carelessly tossing it onto the empty passenger seat next to her before leaning back and unwrapping her meal.

"Isn’t it Y/N's third period? She's literally right across the hall from Gowon. She has it covered."

"That was over an hour ago! She's in the middle of fourth period right now!" Jinsol stared down at her meal for a moment before glancing at the clock on the dashboard that clearly said 11:12 instead of what she'd seen as 9:26 a few moments ago. The girl was slightly alarmed for a moment, only to remember that it basically meant you were in the middle of class—surrounded by civilians.

They wouldn’t pick a fight with you there.. Right?

Jinsol quickly wrapped her sandwich before chucking it next to her phone and preparing to exit the driveway when Sooyoung told her that she was also on her way before she dropped the call.

Back in the school, Son Hyejoo was currently thinking about how she completely despised her Math teacher. Not only did the old lady had told her to stand in the back of the class when she asked Yerim if they had the same answers, but she also hated the woman for not letting her slide—not even once—about leaving her book behind when it was time for her class. Hyejoo could only walk down the halls of Blockberry High and make her way over to the lot, in hopes that her book was there—even if she didn't even do the damned assignment—just so she could continue sitting next to Yerim and watch the girl effortlessly solve the given problems, because watching the girl’s eyes light up was more entertaining than standing outside the hall until the class was dismissed.

The book had apparently manage to slide itself under her seat, most likely slipping out of her backpack that had always sat next to Yerim in the backseat—and though Hyejoo wouldn't call herself associated to any religion of some sort, she silently thanked whoever was watching her from up above as she shut the door of her car and started to make her way back to class.

And that's where she heard your voice.

“What do you want!?” you hissed harshly which made Hyejoo quickly duck against one of the cars closest to her, eyes setting on your fuming expression standing by the bench next to the vending machine as a tall figure wearing all black seemed to have took a slight step back, making him release your wrist that he had seemed to be holding as you clutched your arm to your chest, glaring at him. The man tilted his head to himself before looking back at you with an equally confused expression.

“What do.. I want?” he repeated slowly, furrowing his brows to himself as you stood there—not exactly knowing whether you should run or even attempt at a swing at the taller man—but you stood your ground, wanting to make sure he was gone before any of your members had caught up to what was happening and have the man even dare bring harm to any of them.

“I want power, of course. Enough for me and my members—and to command over fifty-thousand people..?”

“You’re stupid if you think killing a boss would mean you get to take over their Family.” you hissed as he looked at you like a kicked puppy, making him glance down—at what seemed to be a ring in his little finger that even Hyejoo can see from her hiding spot—before his expression snapped yet again to glare at you.

“You don’t know that! God, you all sound the same. You, Chan—I was the one that convinced them to let us go independent! Look where we are now!” his aggravated voice boomed through the lot, making you tense on your spot and take a cautious step back. Your eyes scanning the area for your members, finding Jungeun and Hyejoo’s cars that sat parked a few feet ahead of you which brought you an odd sense of comfort.

But it soon dissipated once it dawned into you that the owners were nowhere to be found.

One of them actually were, however.

“Alright then, I’ll take the lead.” your heart dropped the second your eyes followed the man's hand that had pulled a simple black pistol from behind him, his lips downturned as he popped the magazine to check if he had any bullets—giving you enough time to start running for your life—but instead, you stood there glued to your spot as he rolled his shoulders, smiling brightly at you and letting the nozzle rest in the middle of your temple.

“Now, be a good girl and take me to your members—” a blur of dark hair suddenly appeared from behind the unnamed man, the gun that was held against your forehead was quickly released into the air as the towering man flipped in his spot—falling head first onto the concrete behind him and was completely knocked unconscious before the gun slid a few feet away from him, with your eyes moving to settle on a familiar figure in front of you, eyes locked on the unconscious man with her hand gently holding onto your forearm as you stood there in shock.

"Hyejoo..? When did you..?" you barely even locked eyes with the younger girl when she was suddenly tackled onto the ground, the impact staggering you back in the process until you fell on your behind, watching the battle happening in front of you as you sat frozen in your spot. The supposed-to-be unconscious man had seemed to be aiming to grab ahold of Hyejoo by the neck, using his weight to keep the girl on the ground while his hands were being resisted by your member as she writhed under him. Your eyes quickly scanned for anything to help your member with—anything to knock the large figure that could’ve already ended the shorter girl under him if she weren’t trained—but as you did, your eyes kept flitting over to the pistol that had slipped from the man’s hold from earlier, your ears practically blocked out as the only thing you could clearly hear was the thudding of your heart in your chest.

"No! Y/N—look for Gowon-unnie! Gowon!" Hyejoo cried from her spot—as if the older girl was supposed to just appear out of nowhere once she called—when the man's fist had aggressively pulled back to swing itself onto the girl, aiming to hit her on the face but she managed to move her head the second it was supposed to land. His blood trickled down from his knuckles for them to meet Hyejoo’s cheek as she let out a piercing screech before starting to swing right back at him—landing a few solid strikes straight onto his dumbfounded state. You felt your heart falter at the possibility that the impact of his fist could've landed on the younger girl, making something inside of you snap and clambered to grab the pistol from the ground and stagger closer them, your hands shaking as you point pointed the weapon directly at the assailant with both hands supporting the weapon.

"Let go of her, or I swear—I will shoot." he stopped to look up at you from his position, the punches that Hyejoo had seemed to land on his face was evident at his busted brow and bloodied teeth as smiled ridiculously at you. Hyejoo had attempted another swing just as you had distracted him but he caught her fist without even looking down at her, continuing to maintain eye-contact with you in his bloodied state as he slowly started to laugh at the sight of you standing before him—hands shaking as you aimed his own weapon against him.

"You couldn't even move when I pointed a gun at you earlier—and you're telling me you'll shoot me? Go ahead, child, shoot me!” you swallowed thickly, clenching your jaw to will yourself into keeping the gun aimed at him but you couldn’t seem to ignore the sound of Hyejoo’s aggrieved grunts as she tried to get her hands out of his grip and the sight of her continued attempts at wriggling out of his weight.

“Hyejoo, I’ll get you out of there—”

“Shoot me or I swear—she’ll be unrecognizable by the time I’m done!” the last thing that had crossed your mind before you pulled the trigger was the members in your living room, the image of Sooyoung the first time she had told you that you could trust the members with your life—even though you’ve just met them. You could barely even feel the coldness of the weapon in your hands when several flashes of the members’ reassuring smiles directed to your clueless state when a bloodcurdling scream pierced through your senses, your eyes snapping over to the man you had managed to shoot just between his shoulder and his arm who had scrambled off of your member—panic setting in his features as he continuously muttered “no, no—I can’t die like this!” as he pressed a hand in his wound, shaken up by the sight of his own blood pooling across the sidewalk as he slowly seemed to be losing his consciousness in his spot.

"..Hey." your eyes snapped to the sight of a your bloodied member, the young girl eyeing you careful as you felt slight tug on the weapon you seemed to have kept in a tight grip. You let Hyejoo slip the weapon off your hands before watching the girl walk over to the frightened man—who raised a hand to beg for mercy—when the younger girl held the gun by the barrel to deliver a final blow through his insensible state, supposedly leaving him unconscious but it didn’t seem to be enough as he caught himself before he could fall on his front. Hyejoo then delivered a swift kick to his head that was surely enough knock him out for good just as a familiar blue car had just pulled over by the entrance of the school, the familiar figure of another one of your dark haired members quickly rushing over to the both of you with wide eyes as the pool of blood slowly spreading across the pavement.

"You're both.. Okay." Jinsol breathed in relief, a concerned expression on her face as Hyejoo wiped the drying blood stains on her cheek before turning to you and placing a hand on your forearm—cutting you out of your dazed state to look back at Jinsol’s uneasy gaze. You barely could move your head to nod in response but it seemed that the older girl got the idea, to which she just turned to face the unconscious man and reached over to grab his bloodstained hand— staring down at the ring in his finger with a indecipherable expression on her features before to whispering something under her breath just as several rushed footsteps made their way towards your group. You felt a hand pull you back and a figure quickly blocked you from the body in front of you, the blonde hair was enough for you to recognize that it was Jungeun as Jiwoo had seemed to have followed closely behind, turning to look at Hyejoo who wasn’t even looking at the the members—eyes directly trained on your still figure.

"Who did this!? Was it him!? Give me the gun Son Hyejoo!"

"No, Unnie—we're fine." the older girl moved to reach for Hyejoo’s face before deciding against it and pulling you in a tight embrace instead, the older girl cradling you at your motionless state. Chaewon, Yerim, and Yeojin had soon followed behind—the eldest of the three quickly grabbing ahold of Hyejoo by the shoulders to scan her for any injuries as the younger girl stood there with a pensive look on her face as she continued to stare at you.

"I don't understand—Hyejoo wasn't supposed to be here, if Hyejoo wasn't here.." Chaewon started, a gentle hand remained on Hyejoo's forearm before she turned to look at you with panic slowly settling in her features when Yerim gasped at the image that was set in front of you, her eyes moving to the gun that Hyejoo continued to hold by the barrel and piecing it together. She felt a slight tug on her shirt before turning to a guilt-ridden expression that had been on the youngest member’s state as she looked over to the vacant look that had set on your face as Jiwoo continued to hold you in her arms and tell you that you were alright.

"All of you, get yourselves back in Eden. Yves and I will get him medical attention when she gets here." Jinsol ordered from her spot, eyes moving to scan you and your members just as a familiar burgundy red sports car parked right next to Jinsol's at the front of the building. Sooyoung didn’t even shut her door before she had rushed over to where you stood in Jiwoo’s arms, the red-haired girl quickly taking you into her own as Jiwoo spotted her figure nearing the two of you. The older girl didn’t hesitate in reaching over and pulling Hyejoo in her other arm as well, just when her eyes started to tear up to which the younger girl couldn't help but groan at—slipping out of the older girl’s hold as you continued to be locked in Sooyoung's grip just as she had started to bawl her eyes out.

"Yves, he's bleeding out—we need to go."

"We'll be at Eden, Unnie. We'll be safe there! Please stop crying.." Jiwoo said from behind you, trying to console the older girl as she continued to stain your shoulder with her tears. Your arms gently reached over to pat the girl's back, your eyes finally willing themselves to take in your surroundings again as you watched Hyejoo and Chaewon walk over to Jinsol briefly—speaking to the woman whom had now held a hand against her forehead—before they nodding and making their way over to Hyejoo's car with Yerim and Yeojin. The two who you had just realized had been there the entire time held a disturbed expression in both of their faces, Yeojin looked just about as ready to leave with Hyejoo and the others.

They've most likely never experienced combat in a real setting before, just like you.

"Yeah, yeah—just give me a second," Sooyoung breathed deeply before pulling herself together, sniffling as her hands rested firmly on your shoulders—with you eyeing the distraught girl that looked as if she was going through an inner turmoil about the situation—making you reach over to fix her hair and give her what you could have only hoped was a small smile through your emotionless state, with a reassuring hand placed on her arm in front of you, "we'll settle this, so don't worry about it. Alright, Y/N?" you nodded in reply, not finding it in you to speak at all.

Sooyoung pulled away from you to face Jinsol, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand and wiping the tears in attempt to stop the continuous flow down her cheeks, completely turned away from you just as you felt a hand interlace with you—finding the usual bright smile wiped clean from Jiwoo's face, only to be replaced with a careful look as if sensing your delicate state. Your two older members lead you to Jungeun's car, with Jiwoo slipping herself with you in the backseat to just take you in her arms as Jungeun pulled out of the lot—with your eyes stuck on the image of Sooyoung and Jinsol quickly lifting the man by his arms to bring him to Jinsol's car just before they disappeared from your view.

You could barely feel a thing since the man had caught you by surprise, the image of his menacing smile stuck on a loop in your head as he pressed the nozzle against your forehead—the sound of the air being knocked out of Hyejoo's lungs when he tackled her down, the shot ringing through the lot just before Hyejoo pulled the gun away from you. Something has shifted just from the bloodied encounter, something you had somehow knew that you were going to stumble upon since you’ve joined the group—but you didn’t expect it to be so soon, for the situation to put you in such a spot that you could barely process fast enough what was happening in front of you. You didn’t know what came onto you, what made you even dare point a gun at a man just when he threatened a person you barely even knew.

But you’ve seen it, the way the members would lay their own lives in your stead—even Hyejoo whom you’ve never really exchanged a word with—something inside of you just clicked, a subconscious promise to offer your own life in also protecting theirs just as they would do to you.

For now, you’re free to feel the heavy burden of your shattered morals.

For now, you’re allowed to grieve the loss of justified actions and put the safety of your members above all else.

For now, you mourn the death of Ha Y/N and fully embrace who you truly were.

Y/N Y/L/N, The Heiress.

Hi,

Any Carats following along with this series? I was a Carat way back in 2018 and I was juggling between Seventeen and Blackpink at the time. Actually searching up the members’ names was trippy because it’s just something you’d think that would stick with you for years. I think I liked them just when Oh My just came out—I’m sure that they’re my first big member group.

Wonwoo was my bias but before I left my boy-group agenda, I’ve been into DK. I’m proud of where they are now, and I’m honestly contemplating going back but I’m just so into LOONA that I don’t know how I’ll cope if I even miss a single release from them—even news from some TV program Chuu gets invited to lmao (we love a booked and busy queen though).

Anyways, where are the other members of the Lee Family? And how exactly will this play out with this crazed lunatic that tackled Hyejoo once he gets sent back to the Mansion? I have a few ideas already in mind~ And if I finish Act I before this month finishes.. Then what?

It’s getting crazier and crazier~

Oh, and Hyunhye FOTM today—I was writing this so I completely missed it but I read from orrery-nim for translations anyways, but I feel more pumped to write after that, oh boy..

This update was meant for tomorrow, but since Hyunjin breathed today I'll keep writing lmao the grip~

Laters,

JJ.

>ovc: V COOKIE (200213)

https://www.vlive.tv/post/1-18290715

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buckyhad · 4 years

Text

Tangled (Bucky Barnes x Stark!reader)

I. Kids.

Summary: Since tony met you, he keep you safe in the tower, but Bucky has another idea about that.

A Rapunzel avenger story.

Warnings: mention of death, minor violence, Bucky with a hurt ego.

Word counting: 1,3k

Note: if you see a mispelling let me know. Also if you want to be added to the masterlist tell me or reblog. Lots of love.

Tangled masterlist

"This is the story of how I died." Bucky started narrating. "Don't worry, this is actually a very fun story. And the truth is, it isn't even mine. This is the story of a girl, named (Y/n). And it starts, with the sun. Now, once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens."

He made a dramatic pause.

"Turning into a golden flower.

It had the ability to heal the sick, and injured. Oh, it can make your most desired dream come true too. Remeber that, it's kinda of important."

"There was a lovely couple in a small town, everyone loved them, she was about to have a baby, and she got sick, really, sick. She was running out of time. And that's when people usually start to look for a miracle. Or in this case, a magic golden flower."

"The magic of the golden flower, healed the woman. A healthy baby girl, was born. With beautiful hair. I'll give you a hint. That's (Y/n). To celebrate her birth, the couple launched a flying lantern into the sky. For that one moment, everything was perfect. And then that moment ended." Bucky sighed "Everyone wanted to ask for a wish, so they started to wait outside the little girl's home just to make it, the rumour spread fast and people from everywhere started going to the town." He finished.

My mother became sick again when I was 11, and my dad wasn't my dad anymore, no without her.

I was almost twelve when she died. It was awful.

But not as awful as losing my dad three months after that.

Thats when I met Tony Stark. Bumping into him while crying on the street.

Long story. Short, Tony saved me and was like my father since then.

"save what was lost, bring back what once was mine, what once was mine." I sang while Tony brushed my hair.

"You're gonna make me younger kiddo." Tony he said.

"Sorry dad." I smiled.

After what happened in my home town, I moved to the stark tower. A hidden part.

Tony say that the world was dangerous for someone with my gift.

*8 years later*

Pascal, my cat, hides behind a flower pot.

He was my best friend, a brown cat with big yellow eyes.

I shoved aside the curtains and screamed "HAH! Hmm, Well... I guess Pascal's not hiding out here.".

Pascal chuckles, then I snatches him up with my hair. He shrieks.

"Gotcha!!! That's twenty two for me. How about twenty three, out of forty five?." Pascal shakes his head no, tired of the same game. "Okay, well, what do you want to do?." Pascal points his tail out the window, indicating outside. "Yeah, I don't think so. I like it in here and so do you." Pascal pouts. "Oh, come on Pascal, it's not so bad in there."

"7a.m. the usual morning lineup, starting the chores I sweep 'til the floors all clean. Polish and wax, do laundry and mop and shine up. Sweep again, and by then it's like 7:15. So I'll read a book, or maybe two or three. I'll add a few new paintings to my gallery. I'll play guitar, and knit, and cook and basically. Wonder when will my life, begin. Then after lunch, it's puzzles, and darts and baking. Paper-mache , a bit of ballet, and chess. Pottery, and ventriloquy, candle making. Then I'll stretch, maybe sketch. Take a climb, sew a dress, and I'll re-read the books. If I have time to spare, I'll paint the walls some more, I'm sure there's room somewhere. And then I'll brush, and brush, and brush, and brush my hair. Stuck in the same place I've always been. And I'll keep wondering, and wondering, and wondering... Wondering, just when will my life begin?' ."

Bucky, Sam and Steve were jumping from building to building before stopping on top of one. The biggest one.

"Wow! I could get used to a view like this." Bucky smiled.

"Buck , come on." Steve warned him.

"Hold on Steve. Yep, I'm used to it. Guys, I want a building."

"We do this job, you can buy your own building." Sam laughed at his friend.

Once inside the castle a guard sneezes.

"Oh, hay fever?." Bucky asked.

"Yeah." The guard turns around to see Bucky leaning against the pedestal, with the bracelet in his hand. The guard turns back around. "Huh?." After a second of thinking he realised that sometime was wrong. The guard turns around again and sees Bucky, who is now escaping through the roof. "Wait, what? Hey, wait!."

"Can't you picture me in a castle of my own?" The three men were running of the police now. "I mean, I certainly can. Oh, the things we've seen and it's only eight in the morning. Gentlemen, this is a very big day."

I sighed after a really boring afternoon, waiting for tony to come back with the movies i asked. "This is it. This is a very big day, Pascal. I'm finally going to do it. I'm going to ask him."

"So, dad, earlier I was saying tomorrow’s a pretty big day, and you didn't really respond, So I'm just going to tell you. It's my birthday!"

"No, no, no can't be. I distinctly remember. Your birthday was last year."

"That's the funny thing about birthdays. They're kind of an annual thing. Dad, I'm turning nineteen. And I wanted to ask, what I really want for this birthday. Actually, what I’ve wanted for...quite a few birthdays now, I want to see the lanterns."

"You mean the stars?."

"Tony knew what she means, he was the one who made sure everyday in her birthday were lanterns in the sky" Bucky narrated.

"Excuse me, this is my part of the story."

"Sorry, my bad."

"No, there are this lanterns, and it happen to be in all of my birthdays."

"No, no, it can't be. You can see the stars from here honey, I can even bring you a telescope if you want." I was dissapointed, of course I was, it was my dream!.

"Fine, a telescope." Tony hughed me.

Back in the city the guys, running to their home in the tower, they saw a big drawing of the three.

"No, no no. This is bad, this is very, very bad, This is really bad." Bucky panicked. "They just can't get my nose right."

"Who cares." Sam chuckled.

"Well it's easy for you to say. You guys look amazing," He was truly hurt, how can they made him so ugly and his friends so handsome?. "All right, okay. Give me the keys, and I'll let you in." He panted.

"Give us the satchel first." Steve saw the hurt in his best friend's face after the picture, and with a ruined ego he has to make sure that the plan was finished.

"Wha..? I just... I can't believe, that after all we've been together, you don't trust me. Ouch."

"Now, pretty boy." Sam added.

"Sorry, my hands are full." Bucky smirked showing them the keys in his hand and running to a alley.

"What? BARNES!." Steve screamed. "Dammit! I knew it."

"Gonna kill him." Sam murmured.

"Retrieve that satchel with any force. We got him now, Maximus." Natasha, the captain of the guard told to her horse.

No one knows why she has a horse.

She chases Bucky. "C'mon Barnes, don't make this harder."

"Sorry Nat, our lifes are boring now, had to add a little bit of emotion." He pushed Natasha, and jump on top of Maximus.

"Go! Heyah! Come, fleabag, forward. No. No, stop it. HAH! AHHHHH!" Maximus tried to bite him.

So he jumped. "Catch me creature."

He entered the tower with the animal hot in his heels. "How can a horse get in here, damn Tony." He murmured to himself while going up the stairs, stopping and looking around he frowned. "Where the hell am I".

Bucky wasn't the smartest person in the world,

"Hey! That's rude."

So instead of going back, he opens a door and entered the unknown place.

"Alone at last." He sighed.

"And everything turned black."

Taglist: @gabrielislovegabrielislife

#bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes #the avengers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #flynn rider #tangled #incorrect marvel quotes #avengers incorrect quotes #Spotify

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

Text

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 8

3rd Person POV

Later that night, (Y/n) crawls under her covers to go to sleep; Marvel lies her small head on (Y/n)'s chest.

"'Night, girl," (Y/n) murmurs, drowsily scratching behind the cat's ears.

. . .

A few hours later, Marvel lifts her head, nuzzling (Y/n)'s face to try to wake her up. She lets out a whimper, pawing (Y/n)'s face.

The girl was sweating and her neck was resting at an awkward angle. Her breath had quickened and her eyes were moving rapidly under her closed eyelids.

Marvel jumps off the bed and streaks into Hermione's room. Hermione had always been a light sleeper, so when the cat jumped onto her bed, she wakes.

Marvel meows, and Hermione's head tilts in concern.

"What's wrong, Marvel?" Hermione asks and the black-and-white feline paws at Hermione's hand and jumps off the bed, stopping at the door, then looking back at the brunette.

What a peculiar cat, Hermione thinks, throwing back the covers and following the cat across the hall to her sister's room.

Marvel streaks over and onto the bed, her green eyes wide as she tries to nudge her companion awake again.

Realization and fear dawn in Hermione's eyes and she walks across the room and switches on (Y/n)'s bedside slight before placing a hand on her sister's shoulder, shaking it roughly.

"Come on," Hermione murmurs. "You've got to wake up."

(Y/n)'s eyes flash open, and she sits up in her bed, her eyes closed, head leaning against the headboard, her hands trembling.

Hermione sits down on the edge of (Y/n)'s bed, and takes her sister's hands in her own.

(Y/n) looks up, her eyes wide with shock - and a bright silver.

Hermione looks at her sister and (Y/n) subconsciously moves over and Hermione slides under the covers, her back leaning against the other half of (Y/n)'s pillow.

(Y/n) leans against Hermione's shoulder; Hermione, used to these nightmares, remains silent.

After a few minutes, she reaches over and turns off the bedside light.

(Y/n) turns on her side, her head resting on the pillow, and Hermione does the same.

. . .

(Y/n) and Hermione don't talk about the nightmare the night before as the two go about the rest of the break leading up until Christmas.

After breakfast Christmas morning, (Y/n), Hermione, and their parents walk into the living room.

"You girls want to pass out gifts?" Mrs. Granger asks and (Y/n) and Hermione nod.

After passing out the gifts, (Y/n) settles back down at her place in front of the couch. (Y/n) pulls the wrapping paper off one from Fred, and sitting on top was a card. It said:

(Y/n), Somebody got this picture of your first Quidditch match, I thought you'd like it.

- Fred

Lifting up the card, (Y/n) smiles seeing a picture in a frame. It was a picture of Fred and George lifting her up onto their shoulders after her first Quidditch match.

(Y/n) sets the picture and card beside her before picking up a gift from Harry. She smiles when she sees a Advanced Charms book and a book on Magical Creatures.

(Y/n) looks over at Hermione as the brunette at her side opens her gift. (Y/n) had given her sister a copy of Hogwarts: A History.

"I have a copy already," Hermione says, turning to (Y/n).

"There's a charm on it," (Y/n) explains. "Whenever something important in Hogwarts' history, it get's copied down in here. Look," (Y/n) says, opening a page. It says, October 31, 1991 - Hermione Granger, (Y/n) (L/n), Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, defeated a mountain troll in a girls toilet.

Hermione stares down at the book and a smile slowly spreads across her face. "This is really cool! I love it! But that's not how that went," Hermione says.

"Ah, but it's better than what actually happened," (Y/n) argues. "That was not my best birthday."

(Y/n) grabs another gift, pulls the paper off, and finds a box of chocolate frogs from Harry, and she sets them aside, promising to have one later.

One of (Y/n)'s last gifts is a package wrapped in glossy blue paper with wolves printed on it.

(Y/n),

Happy Christmas! I'm very proud of what you have accomplished at Hogwarts in such a short amount of time.

-Love,

Uncle Remus

(Y/n) gazes down at the card, a small smile on her face. Then she sets the card at her side and looks at the contents of the box. Inside was a small stuffed wolf with a tag on it's ear that read - (Y/n)'s first stuffed animal, a gift from Uncle Remus. Under that was a new stack of photos that (Y/n) promises herself to look at later.

(Y/n) opens a package and finds a red sweater with a silver (First Initial) on it. Under the sweater was a large box of homemade fudge and a letter.

(Y/n), My sons Ron, Fred, and George have told me a lot about you. My husband, Arthur, and I wish to meet you soon. Happy Christmas! -Molly Weasley

Grinning, (Y/n) pulls the sweater over her head and the four finishing opening all their gifts, both (Y/n) and Hermione take all their things upstairs.

3rd Person POV - with Harry - A few hours earlier

On Christmas Eve, Harry goes to bed looking forward for the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When he wakes early in the morning, however, the first thing he sees is a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.

"Merry Christmas," says Ron sleepily as Harry scrambles out of bed and pulls on his bathrobe.

"You, too," says Harry. "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" says Ron, turning to his own pile, which is a lot bigger than Harry's.

Harry picks up the top parcel. It is wrapped in thick brown paper and and scrawled across it was to Harry, from Hagrid. Inside is a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself; Harry blows it - it sounded a bit like an owl.

A second, very small parcel contains a note. We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Taped to the note is a fifty-pence piece.

"That's friendly," says Harry.

Ron seems fascinated by the fifty pence, "Weird!" he exclaims. "What a shape! This is money!"

"You can keep it," says Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron is. "Hagrid and my aunt and uncle - so who sent these?"

"I think I know who that one's from," says Ron, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you didn't expect any presents and - oh, no," he groans, "she's made you a Weasley sweater."

Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

"Every year she makes us a sweater," says Ron, unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon."

"That's really nice of her," says Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty.

Harry's next present also contains candy - a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione which Harry thought was kind of funny because he had gotten (Y/n) the same thing.

Harry's next parcel was from (Y/n). Opening it, he sees a small box. Feeling curious, Harry opens the box to see a couple of photos. One was of a raven haired man with amber eyes, Harry's father, and a red haired women with emerald green eyes, his mother. The two are standing with a (M/H/C) haired women, (Y/n)'s mum; all three were smiling.

Harry looks at another picture of two kids, probably about a year old. One was a boy with raven hair and emerald eyes, the other was a girl with (H/C) and green eyes - Harry himself and (Y/n).

Then, Harry sees a piece of paper sitting in the box.

Hey Harry,

I found these pictures in the box my godfather left me and I made a few copies. I figured you'd want them.

-Love,

(Y/n)

Harry smiles and picks up the final present. He picks it up and feels it. It's very light, he thinks, and he unwraps it.

Something fluid and silvery gray goes slithering to the floor where it lies in gleaming folds and Ron gasps.

"What is it?"

Harry picks up the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It's strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

"It's an Invisibility Cloak," says Ron, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is - try it on."

Harry throws the cloak around his shoulders and Ron gives a yell.

"It is! Look down!"

Harry looks down at his feet, but they are gone. He dashes to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looks back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible. He pulls the cloak over his head and his reflection vanishes completely.

"There's a note!" says Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"

Harry pulls off the cloak ans seizes the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you.

Use it well

A very Merry Christmas to you

There is no signature; Harry stares at the note, while Ron is admiring the cloak.

"I'd give anything for one of these," Ron says. "Anything. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," says Harry. He fells very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father? he thinks.

Before he can say - or think - of anything else, but the dormitory door is flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounds in. Harry stuffs the cloak quickly out of sight. He doesn't fell like sharing it with anyone else yet.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look — Harry's got a Weasley sweater, too!"

Fred and George are wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it,the other a G.

"Harry's is better than ours, though," says Fred, holding up Harry's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demands. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moans halfheartedly as he pulls it over his head.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observes. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid — we know we're called Gred and Forge."

"What's all this noise?"

Percy Weasley sticks his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carries a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seizes.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one."

"I — don't — want —" says Percy thickly, as the twins force the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," demands George."Christmas is a time for family."

They frog-march Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.

Harry had never in all his life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas;tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce —and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Harry pulls a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet,and is chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings follow the turkey. Percy nearly breaks his teeth on a silver Sickle embedded in his slice. Harry watches Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he calls for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement, giggles and blushes, her top hat lopsided.

When Harry finally leaves the table, he is laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a Grow Your-Own-Warts kit, and his own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Harry has a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs.Norris's Christmas dinner.

Harry and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they return to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry breaks in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. Harry suspects he wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help him so much.

After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone feels too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor Tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge.

It had been Harry's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbs into bed is he free to think about it: the Invisibility Cloak and whoever had sent it.

Harry leans over the side of his own bed and pulls the cloak out from under it. His father's ... this had been his father's. He lets the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said.He has to try it, now. He slips out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he sees only moonlight and shadows. It's a very funny feeling.Use it well.Suddenly, Harry feels wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts is open to him in this cloak. Excitement floods through him as he stands there in the dark and silence. He can go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.

Ron grunts in his sleep. Should Harry wake him? Something holds him back— his father's cloak — he felt that this time — the first time — he wants to use it alone. Harry creeps out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbs through the portrait hole.

"Who's there?" squawks the Fat Lady. Harry says nothing. He walks quickly down the corridor.

Harry, his heart racing, and thought. And then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He sets off, drawing the Invisibility Cloak tight around him as he walked.The library is pitch-black and very eerie. Harry lights a lamp to see his way along the rows of books. The lamp looks as if it was floating along in midair,and even though Harry can feel his arm supporting it, the sight gives him the creeps.

The Restricted Section is right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separates these books from the rest of the library, he held up his lamp to read the titles. They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry couldn't understand. Some had no title at all. One book has a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be. Harry had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting-looking book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulls it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, lets it fall open.

A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek splits the silence — the book is screaming! Harry snaps it shut, but the shriek goes on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. He stumbles backward and knocks over his lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside —stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, he runs for it. He passes Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through him, and Harry slips under Filch's outstretched arm and streaks off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears.

Harry comes to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. He has been so busy getting away from the library, he hadn't paid attention to where he was going.Perhaps because it's dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There is a suit of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but he must be five floors above there.

"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library — Restricted Section."

Harry feels the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he is, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice is getting nearer, and to his horror, it's Snape who replies, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."

Harry stands rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape come around the corner ahead. They can't see him, of course, but it is a narrow corridor and if they come much nearer, they'd knock into him - the cloak didn't stop him from being solid.

Harry backs away as quickly as he can. A door stands ajar to his left. It's my only hope, Harry thinks. He squeezes through it, holding his breath, trying to to move it, and to his relief, he manages to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walk straight past, and Harry leans against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. They had been close, very close, It is a few seconds before he notices anything about the room he his hidden in.

It looks like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs are piled against the walls, and there is an upturned wastepaper basket — but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.

It is a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame,standing on two clawed feet. There is an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

His panic fading now that there is no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moves nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again; he steps in front of it.

He has to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirls around, his heart pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed - for he had not seen only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him.

But the room is empty. Breathing very fast, he turns slowly back to the mirror.

There he is, reflected in it, white ans scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, are at least ten others. Harry looks over his shoulder - but still, no one is there. Or are they invisible, too? Is his, in fact, in a room full of invisible people and this mirrors trick is that it reflects them, invisible or not?

Harry looks in the mirror again. A woman is standing right behind his reflection is smiling at him and waving. He reaches out a hand and feels the air behind him. If she is really there, he would touch her, their reflections are so close together, but he only feels air - she and the others exist only in the mirror.

She is a very pretty woman. Dark red hair and her eyes, emerald green eyes. Harry edges closer to the to the glass. Bright green - exactly the same shape as Harry's, but then he notices that she is crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wears glasses and his hair is very untidy. It sticks up at the back, just as Harry's does.

Harry is so close to the mirror that his nose is nearly touching that of his reflection.

"Mom?" he whispers. "Dad?"

They just look at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looks into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and sees other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man, who looks as though he as Harry's knobbly knees - he is looking at his entire family for the first time in his life.

The Potters smile and wave at Harry and he stares hungrily hack at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he is hopping to fall right through it and reach them. He has a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.

How long he stands there, he doesn't know. The reflections do not fade and he looks and looks until a distant noise brings him back to his senses. He can't stay here, he has to find a way back to his bed. He tears his eyes away from his mother's face, whispers, "I'll come back," and hurries from the room.

Harry does for the next two nights and Dumbledore had found Harry the last night. Dumbledore had told Harry the purpose of the mirror, to show the deepest desire of their hearts.

Dumbledore had convinced Harry not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again, and for the rest of the Christmas holidays the Invisibility Cloak stays folded at the bottom of his trunk. Harry wishes he could forget what he'd seen in the mirror as easily, but he can't He starts having nightmares. Over and over a again he dreams of his parents disappearing in a flash of green light, while a high voice crackles with laughter. What Harry didn't know, was that (Y/n) was having the same dreams. Repetition from the one on Christmas Eve night.

"You see, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad," says Ron, when Harry tells them about these dreams.

Word Count: 3759 words

#hermione granger x sister reader

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nothingbutfangirlsmut · 4 years

Text

The Maze Trials: A Gally Fanfiction

Pairing: Gally x Emi(OC)

Summary: Emi, first girl the Glade has seen. Tougher than she looks and more than ready to prove it. Since day one her and Gally have been at each other's throats. Fighting constantly and not just with their words.

(Gally fanfiction which will include smut. It also has an actual story line. Think of it as an AU to the original Maze Runner. It'll mostly follow the main story line with some changes. Mostly focusing on Emi and Gally and their relationship.)

Chapter Twenty-Two

I stood in the doorway of Alby's small office. Where he did his lists of supplies and tasks. I also came to learn that he wrote a journal. He made at least one entry a day. Right now he sat at his desk scribbling away on some paper.

"Knock knock" I said softly to get his attention.

He looked up at me. His eyebrows were still knit in concentration. He glanced down at the paper for a moment then slowly sat his pencil down.

"You alright?" I asked him.

He sighed then rubbed a hand down his face.

"As much as I can be considering." He sounded exhausted.

I couldn't imagine the weight on his shoulders. He was the very first one in the Glade. He survived an entire month alone. In that time he started to work the plan out for what the Glade is today. The weight of being our leader. The one we all look to for answers and guidance when something happens.

"I can't imagine what's going threw your head right now but I just wanted you to know that what you are about to do we all understand. It's not the first time. Some may not understand but most of us who have been here for awhile do understand. There's nothing else we can do but protect the majority. It sucks like hell but..." I trailed off unsure of what else to say.

"Thank you Emi. I appreciate that. Could you tell Gally and the other keepers that I need to have a counsel meeting please." Alby gave me a small forced smile.

I nodded then quickly left to inform the keepers. Outside the Homestead was a circle of boys. I went straight over to them.

"Hey boys, Alby needs you in the counsel hall." I said as I grabbed Gally's hand.

They all looked at me then nodded. They knew what to do. All the keepers were among the boys who'd been here the longest. Gally squeezed my hand then placed a quick kiss on my forehead before following the rest of the keepers. I noticed Chuck and Thomas sitting in the hammocks so I made my way over to them.

"Hi Emi" Chuck said with a large grin.

"Hi Chuck" I smiled back as I sat next to him.

"Thomas, how are you doing?" I asked the greenie.

"I'm confused mostly" he chuckled lightly.

"I was too the first time I saw the changing." I informed him.

"The changing?" He asked arching a brow at me.

"It's what happens when someone gets stung. They go threw the changing. There's no cure. Before I came here they had others stung but after trying everything they had and none of it working Alby decided banishment was their best option." I explained.

"Banishment?" Thomas questioned.

"You'll see later after the counsel meeting. Just remember we don't want to do this but we have to." I turned to look at Chuck.

I grabbed the young boy's hand and squeezed it gently. He hasn't witnessed a banishment yet but I know some of the older boys have told him about it. Thomas looked very confused and worried. He glanced behind him into the Glade which was empty now. Usually at this time the Glade would be full of gladers working. It was eerily quiet with the pending banishment hanging over all our heads.

Thomas, Chuck, and I sat in silence until the doors to the counsel hall opened. All the boys looked defeated. We watched them as they gathered what was needed. Each keeper getting their one long wooden polls. I learned they were used to actually push the glader out. The rest of us would have to grab our own spear. The only ones that weren't expected to be apart of this was Chuck because he is so young and Thomas because this is only day two for him.

"Emi" Gally shouted from a few feet away.

He was holding his poll in one hand and a spear in the other.

"I'll see you guys later" I said to Thomas and Chuck then went to Gally.

I took the spear from his hand then followed him over to the entrance of the maze. The gladers slowly filled in where they were needed. The keepers in the middle of the group. Chuck and Thomas were standing to the back of the group. All of us stood quietly as we watched Minho in the distance pull Ben out of the pit. He guided Ben threw the Glade to where we all stood.

"Please listen to me! Please! Minho!" Ben said threw clenched teeth.

He seemed to growl as Minho stayed silent.

"Alby" He growled as he walked past the leader.

As Minho passed the other keepers they moved to get in a line behind him. Minho pushed him onto his knees then cut the ropes binding his hands behind his head. He grabbed the bag of minimal supplies tossing it into the maze.

"No, no, no, please, no, please" Ben cried to Minho.

The sounds of the maze starting to shift and close told us it was time. The wind rushed into the Glade making Ben try to crawl backwards from it.

"Posts!" Alby shouted.

All the keepers moved to hold their posts out in front of them. Ben turned himself around to face the keepers as the rest of us gladers held our spears out to keep him from running back into the Glade. I noticed Chuck turn and walk away leaving Thomas to watch alone. Ben got to his feet then started to try to find a way threw us.

"Move in" Alby ordered.

The keepers walked forward using their posts to push Ben back.

"No! No, no, no!" Ben said frantically as he tried to push the posts away.

Ben tried to push back against them but he didn't stand a chance. He was frantically screaming no as the pushed him closer and closer to his death. They finally got him into the doors pushing him far enough so that his options were to go to the other side or let the walls crush him. He made his way to the other side of the doors. He stared at us threw the small opening until it closed and we could no longer see or hear him. The eerie quiet settled in around us once more.

"He belongs to the maze now." Alby said after leaning his post against the stone.

The rest of the keepers did the same with their posts. Most of them went back to the Glade. A small group of the builders along with Gally and myself went to the wall of names. I held one of the torches as Gally gathered what he needed to mark out Ben's name. We stood silently as Gally worked the chisel. This was what we did every time we lost someone. They carved their name when they got here and Gally marked it out when you died. We had to have something to always remember our friends, brothers, and family that we lost here in the Glade and in the maze. Maybe one day we wouldn't need this memorial anymore because we'd all be safe but for now we do what we can.

—

#nothingbutfangirlsmut #the maze trials #the maze runner #gally imagine #gally smut #gally #gally x reader #tmr gally #original character

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bngtanah · 4 years

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I’m (not) With The Band. | o2

summary: Adrienne is an indie producer who is hired to help co-produce BTS’ next album alongside their resident producer; Suga. Despite the initial opposition on both ends, the pair spend time together, share a few stories, dreams and aspirations and begin to hit it off really well. Wrapped up in the whirlwind of late nights and heated disagreements and reconciliations, Min Yoongi and Adrienne Rolle find themselves growing closer and closer. One night they decide to cross the barrier between personal and professional and do their best make a relationship work against all odds.

pairing: Min Yoongi x Named OC

word count: 2.2k genre: drama, romance, smut(eventually)

chapters: prologue| o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11|

warning: light angst, smut, fluff, workplace relationship, slow burn, sexual themes, ambw, enemies to friends to lovers, developing relationship

a/n: still a fool. still re-uploading.

Adrienne had never been a shy person.

She was always the first to volunteer for school presentations even if she hated the class, she made it her duty to be friends with every single one of her lab partners in science class whether they wanted that friendship or not and she was always ready and willing to offer her opinion when questioned on just about anything.

But it seemed that being in a new country, thousands of miles from home had given her personality somewhat of a timid edge since she was currently surrounded by six energetic and talkative boys and Adrienne couldn't think of words to answer their nonstop questions. The language barrier could excuse some of her silence since she honestly didn't understand a lot of their questions, but for the things she did understand Adrienne couldn't stop herself from looking like a fish out of water; her mouth gaping open then closing quickly when she lost her train of thought.

"Where are you from?" "How old are you?" "Are you older than me?" "Should I call you noona?" "Can you give me a big part in our title track?"

The questions kept coming and Adrienne could barely keep up when a stern voice from the front of the van finally calmed the storm of inquisitive young voices.

"Calm down, kids. At least let her answer before you start asking another question."

Adrienne sighed a short breath of relief when she was finally able to hear herself think and offered the lanky boy in the passenger seat a small smile of gratitude.

"Okay, I want to answer all your questions. But I have a few of my own first" She said as she rested the notebooks she'd been clutching tightly against her chest onto her lap. "Well, questions and one request."

"First, I don't speak Korean that well so try to talk slowly because I didn't understand half of what you guys just said." Adrienne chuckled and looked around at the smiling and curious faces of the boys who were still facing her.

"Second, I want to make sure I have everyone's name right so I know who I'm talking to, -Jin?" Adrienne asked and pointed to the boy seated to her left a row ahead who nodded and Adrienne smiled, feeling accomplished.

"J-hope?" She asked of the next member who immediately replied yes and shot her a love bullet which Adrienne pretended to get hit by before laughing and sitting up straight again. "Would you mind if I just called you by your real name?"

"Yes, that's okay" he nodded quickly with a surprised grin.

"Okay, Hoseok. It's locked in."

She moved on to the person with the deep voice who had complimented her hair. Andy didn't quite recognize his face since in the performance videos she studied they all had different hair colors than they currently did. The only reason she managed to remember Suga's name without doubting herself was because she forced herself to, knowing that he would be the one she would most likely be talking to the most. Adrienne was still riding high on the confidence of getting the first two name's correct however so she assumed she would his name right as well. "...Jungkook?" her confidence was shot down when he didn't smile and the other boys began laughing at her mistake.

"I'm Kim Ta- Taehyung Kim" He replied in English, which surprised Adrienne to much for her to remain embarrassed.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry" Adrienne apologised quickly "Tae..hyung...V?"

He nodded and offered her a wide and boxy grin which Adrienne couldn't help but replicate, it was infectious.

"I hope you're Jungkook," She said to the next member and instead of smiling and agreeing with her like Adrienne was so sure he would his youthful features fell into something like a glare and the young boy shook his head from side to side gravely. Adrienne felt her eyes open widely and her hands flew to her cover her face in embarrassment, she was never particularly great with names but she was pretty confident that she recognized his face.

"Yah, Jungkook. Don't be like this" The member seated in the same row as Adrienne, on the other side of Yoongi spoke up.

When Adrienne peeled her hands away from her eyes and looked forward again she could see the mischievous smile budding on "Not-Jungkook's" lips before he collapsed into a fit of laughter which made Adrienne gasp when she realised that he was only kidding.

"Oh that's not funny" She replied even though she started laughing right along with him.

"We are going to have problems aren't we?" Adrienne said to Jungkook who replied with a playful quirk of his eyebrow before Jin and Taehyung shouted something about him being greasy.

Adrienne turned to her side and glanced down at the member she'd already spoken to, "I've met Suga," she muttered to the body on her side, he wasn't moving but Adrienne could tell that he wasn't really asleep. Looking up, she prepared to guess the next name but he was already speaking and offering his hand for her to shake before Andy could say anything.

"I'm Jimin" He said with warm and inviting smile "Please take good care of us."

Adrienne accepted his handshake and found herself staring at his smile for longer than she would consider appropriate.

"Now who's being greasy?" She heard Jungkook chuckle in a murmur and that made her snap back to attention and stop shaking Jimin's hand like an idiot.

"Okay so that just leaves, Rap Monster?" The boy at the front of the minibus nodded and turned slightly to wave in Adrienne's direction "You can call me Namjoon if you want" He replied, also in English which made Adrienne knit her eyebrows together.

"How many of you speak English?"

Namjoon laughed, making the deep dimples in his cheeks sink even deeper "Just me. V knows some English but he doesn't practice enough."

Taehyung nodded and looked at Adrienne "It's true."

Andy laughed and pulled the ends of her braids over her right shoulder "This is so great, I thought I would be lost the entire time but you speak English! You can help me! This is really really great" Adrienne rambled, her mood noticeably less subdued than when she first stepped into the vehicle.

"If you need to translate anything I'll try to help as much as I can" Namjoon reassured her.

"Good, my tutor says that I shouldn't speak English if I know how to say what I want to say in Korean so I'll try not to use you as a crutch."

"I wouldn't mind."

Adrienne grinned, holding Namjoon's gaze for a moment before glancing down at her lap while the rest of the members simply looked on with confusion. Well, all except V who could make out some of their conversation.

"I actually wanted to talk to someone about a few ideas I had in mind for your next album" Adrienne started, switching back to her cautious and slow Korean "But I'm not sure my co-producer is up for a conversation right now." She said underneath her breath and looked to her side at Yoongi who remained bundled up and still.

"Yeah, you don't want to wake him up. He didn't really sleep last night." Jin said gently as he joined Adrienne in looking down at Yoongi.

"I don't think he's sleeping, though" Adrienne answered back and leaned down to examine his face more closely.

"How can anyone sleep with all this goddamn noise?" Yoongi protested, loudly, from beneath his hood.

Adrienne jumped back and placed a hand on her heart, the sudden sound of his voice when she got closer to him nearly scared her to death.

"I knew it" She whispered once her heart rate had settled, his sudden outburst confirmed Adrienne's suspicions of him being awake. "Sorry about the noise" Adrienne stated in Yoongi's direction but he only shook his head and removed the hood covering his eyes.

He was never going to attain the amount of rest he was chasing so there wasn't any point in pretending that he could.

The group rode out the rest of the commute in relative silence, Adrienne taking the time to make conversation with the younger members while the older ones seemed to be involved in their own forms distraction or trying to rest their eyes. It took them nearly an hour to reach their destination and once the van halted to a stop everyone immediately began pouring out the van leaving Adrienne confused and stuck in her seat.

"Uh, do I need to get out too?" She called out to Yoongi since he was the last to exit the van and closest to her seat.

Yoongi pulled an earbud out of his ear and turned back to face her as if he'd forgotten she was still sitting down and hadn't joined the rest of the group when they got out.

"Yes, you need to get out of the van" He replied bluntly and watched as she gathered up her belongings and soon joined him on the pavement. They both began walking quickly to catch up with the rest of the boys who were already inside the building.

"Someone should have said something," and by someone she meant Yoongi but that didn't need to be clarified.

"It's kind of obvious isn't it?"

"Not really, I'm not being interviewed why would I need to get out of the van?"

Yoongi discreetly rolled his eyes by pressing his palm to his forehead for a few seconds before he began speaking again. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid today; having to explain how and when to do everything on their tight schedule.

"When you're with us, you do what we do," he said after a moment's hesitation, turning his head to look Adrienne full on.

"Okay, that makes sense. That wasn't so hard to explain was it?"

Adrienne smiled as she teased him and Yoongi took the time to secretly appreciate how easily her wide off-centre grin seemed to spread across her lips and illuminate her entire face. She reminded him of Jimin in that way, both of them possessed those kinds of expressions. Smiles that honestly looked painful to be so broad and enticing resting on someone's face.

"Suga-ssi!"

His name was being called and Yoongi stopped leering just long enough to notice that his members were already in the process of being seated, leaving him the odd one out.

"Find a seat," He said to Adrienne quickly before scurrying toward where the rest of BTS was seated.

Adrienne nodded and slowly turned to find somewhere to sit down and occupy herself until they were done with their interview. The rest of the staff that had walked in with them seemed to be gathering around a certain table do Adrienne joined them here, offering everyone she recognised a small greeting before she pushed a pair of earbuds in her ears and silently turned to an empty page in her notebook and began scribbling music notes and lyrics over the page.

Listening to the different tones in all of them members voices when they spoke had given her a few ideas for something new. Every so often Adrienne would look up while the boys spoke, laughing at the silly answers to the interviewers questions or to watch them demonstrate a dance move or song lyric from their current album. She would smirk and make faces whenever she caught one of them looking in her direction, she caught Namjoon the most and one of the faces she made nearly made him laugh out loud while Jimin was answering a question.

Truthfully, she only caught Namjoon the most because her eyes tended to gravitate toward him whenever she looked up. If Adrienne had been paying close attention she would have noticed that Yoongi's eyes rarely left her when he wasn't being addressed or answering something. Initially, he just wondered what she was writing down but as the interview wore on and Yoongi became more uninterested in repeating the same answers to the same kinds of questions he began staring at her just to have something appealing to look at. The way Adrienne bit down on the end of her pen cap when she seemed to be stuck on something, and the wrinkle that would form in her forehead when she reread something she wrote down only to realise it made no sense was all, dare he think it?

Cute.

The interview finished about an hour after they began and as everyone got up and prepared to leave their manager was informing them that the photo shoot they had scheduled next was cancelled due to the photographer injuring himself. Instead, they would all be returning to the studio so that they could get in a few extra hours of practice.

Adrienne pumped her fist silently to herself because she knew that meant that she would finally be able to get some of the music out of her head before she went crazy.

"He said we're going back to the studio right?" Adrienne asked Namjoon when she stood up to join the group walking outside. Namjoon nodded and repeated the manager's message in English for Adrienne who nodded and struck up a conversation with him on their way back to the van, leaving Yoongi to continue silently gazing from behind them.

#bts #bts fic #min suga #min yoongi #suga fic #suga scenarios #yoongi x oc #bngtanah #inwtb

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