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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

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she ain’t a gold digger ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2417

request?: yes!

“Hi, please write a MGK imagine where the reader joins him on tour and he loses his wallet and when they decide to go out to a club one night, she asks him to get something from her bag and he sees his wallet in there. He accuses her of stealing and they get into a fight and she storms off. One of the guys confesses that they found it in their suitcase by accident and just slipped it in her purse to keep it safe but forgot to tell him and he apologizes profusely to reader and after some persuasion she forgives him”

description: when his wallet goes missing and he finds it in her bag, he lets the tabloids bullshit get to him and causes a fight he regrets

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst

masterlist (one, two)

The hotel room was basically overturned when (Y/N) walked in. Colson was tossing things from his suitcase, frantically searching for something.

“We’ve only been here like five minutes, is it really time to pull a full Motley Crue on this room?” she teased.

“I can’t find my wallet,” Colson said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

“What?”

“It’s not in my suitcase, it’s not in any of my pants - the ones in my suitcase or the ones I’m wearing - it’s not in my carry on or my jacket.”

(Y/N) crossed the room to kneel next to Colson. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. In a more calm manner, she looked through the things Colson had messily thrown about the floor. She helped him to look for the millionth time through everything, coming up empty yet again.

“Okay, don’t panic,” she said. “You had it at the airport because it was with your passport. We can call both this airport and the one we just departed from to see if it’s been turned in. In the meantime, we can lock your cards so no one can use them.”

Colson nodded, but (Y/N) could see the panic in his eyes. She cupped his face and made him look up at her. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find it, and if we don’t we’ll replace it the best we can.”

~~~~~~

Despite the stress he was still feeling, Colson decided to join (Y/N) and his friends at the club that night. He was glued to his phone the entire ride there, and once they got to the club (Y/N) took it and shoved it into her purse.

“Relax,” she told him. “We’re here to have a good time.”

“But what if someone calls about my wallet?” he asked.

“Then they’ll leave a message. I highly doubt anyone is calling you at almost midnight, though.” (Y/N) laced her fingers through Colson’s and pressed her body against his. “Please baby? For me?”

Colson sighed but (Y/N) could see the smile on his face. “Fine, but you’re paying for my drinks tonight.”

He had to admit the night out was what he needed. Besides the panic over his wallet, Colson had also basically worked himself to death the past few months. Between recording and filming, and now the tour. He was just grateful that his manager allowed (Y/N) to join them on tour. He’d be out of his mind without her.

(Y/N) pushed through the crowd to where Colson and his friends were and passed Colson his drink. He smiled and pulled her down onto his lap. (Y/N) giggled as Colson pressed a kiss onto her neck.

“If you guys are gonna fuck, do us the curtesy of going to the bathroom,” Rook called over the music.

“Please, I’m more classy than that,” Colson responded. “I’d fuck her in the coat closet like a gentleman.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and stood. “I’m gonna go dance. Enjoy your boy talk.”

Colson watched the beautiful curved figure of his girlfriend strut to the dancefloor. He finished his drink in one mouthful and went to follow her.

They danced together for so long that Colson had forgotten all of his worried for a brief period of time. He gazed lovingly into the face of the love of his life as she grinded her hips against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sheepishly smiled up at him.

“Wanna get out of here?” she whispered seductively in his ear.

“More than anything,” Colson responded. “I’ll get our things. Meet me at the front doors.”

(Y/N) smiled and winked at him as they went their separate ways. Colson pulled out the coat check tickets to get his jacket and (Y/N)’s purse, and passed it to the girl working there. As he shrugged on his jacket, he got the overwhelming urge to check his phone to see if anyone had called about his wallet.

He promised (Y/N) he’d have a good time, but she didn’t have to know he checked. He would just look and see if there were any missed calls then forget until morning.

However, when he opened (Y/N)’s purse to get her phone, he noticed something on the very top: his wallet.

Why does she have my wallet? he thought. And why wouldn’t she tell me that she had it? She knows how worried I’ve been about it.

He tried not to overthink anything before talking to (Y/N) first. He made his way to the front of the club where (Y/N) was waiting with a joint hanging partially out of her mouth. She looked over at him and smiled as a puff of smoke rolled from her lips.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked. When she noticed Colson’s serious look, her smile fell. “Babe, are you okay? Did something happen?”

He found his words stuck in his throat, so instead of speaking he just held his wallet up.

“Holy shit! Is that your wallet?” Colson nodded, still unable to talk. “Where did you find it?!”

“In your purse.”

(Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? How did it get in my purse?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

She looked up at him as she took another puff from the joint. “What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, I’m just asking a question. This is your purse after all, the only people who touch it are you and me. Obviously I didn’t put the wallet in there so that leaves one person.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “Say it Colson. Fucking say it.”

“Did you take my wallet (Y/N)?”

“No! Of course I didn’t!”

“Then why is it in your purse?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and turned away from Colson. She started to walk away, but he followed her.

“If you took it, I just want to know why,” he said. “I’m not upset, I know there’s likely a good reason for taking it and not telling me.”

“I didn’t fucking take it!” (Y/N) snapped, spinning around to glare at Colson. “I know how this looks, I know it makes no sense, but I fucking swear to you I did not take your fucking wallet. I don’t know how it got in my purse, I don’t know why it’s there, but I did not take your goddamn wallet!”

“Then why the fuck is it in your purse?!”

(Y/N) let out a frustrated groan and buried her head in her hands. “Why can’t you just fucking believe me when I say I didn’t take it? I don’t know how it got in my purse, but I didn’t take it.”

“It just doesn’t make sense to me, (Y/N). How else would it have gotten there? You’re the only one who even touches your purse, none of the guys have had access to it. You knew when and where I had my wallet last, and now it’s showing up in your bag.”

“If I had taken it, why was I trying to help you find it? Why did I tell you to shut down your cards so no one could use them? Why was I helping you to call the airports and turn over the entire hotel room another two times looking for it? Why would I go to those lengths if I just had it instead of telling you just to replace it all?”

“I don’t know, (Y/N), maybe you were just making sure you could get whatever fucking money you could from me without me realizing.”

(Y/N)’s face fell and her eyes started to well with tears. After being together for a year, she thought he would know her better than that. She thought he wouldn’t believe the bullshit tabloid websites were publishing about her being a gold digger and just dating Colson for the money. She thought he would knew she loved him with her entire heart because of who he was, not because he was a famous rapper.

Apparently she was wrong.

Without another word, (Y/N) turned away from him and walked towards the line up of taxis that were waiting outside of the club. Colson watched her go, his anger starting to subside and be replaced by guilt. But he couldn’t go after her, he wouldn’t. He needed some time to think about all of this, to let her think about it as well. Neither one of them were going to get any answers if they kept fighting and hurting one another.

Colson entered the club again, order two more strong drinks and finding his way back to his boys. They all looked at him with confusion as he sat down where he had been before.

“Dude, I thought you left,” Baze said.

“I thought so, too, until I found my wallet in (Y/N)’s purse,” Colson muttered. “We got into a fight and she left.”

“Why were you fighting about that?” Rook asked, his eyebrows furrowing together.

Colson waved off the comment, not feeling in the mood to relay the entire fight back to his friends.

“Wait, did I not tell you I put the wallet there?” Slim asked.

Colson nearly choked on one of his drinks. He coughed and turned to look at his friend. “You fucking had it?”

“Yeah man, it somehow got in my carry on,” Slim responded. “I found it when we were waiting for our luggage. I put it in (Y/N)’s purse cause I knew it would be safe there. I could’ve swore I told you that, though.”

“You didn’t,” Colson said. “God fucking dammit, I’m an idiot.”

“What did you say to her, man?” Baze asked.

“I...I insinuated that she...she’s only with me for my money and she stole my wallet so she could get it.”

The guys chorused disapproving noises at the same time.

“Kells, (Y/N) is literally the realest person I’ve ever met,” Rook said. “She ain’t a gold digger, and you definitely shouldn’t think that she is.”

“I don’t,” Colson sighed. “I was just pissed. God, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Bro,” Slim said, leaning forward to look at Colson, “go after your woman and apologize.”

Colson nodded and quickly stood from his seat. The cab ride back to the hotel felt incredibly slow. Of course, he had left his phone in (Y/N)’s purse so he couldn’t even call or text her. There was no guarantee that she was even at the hotel, and that thought had Colson’s anxiety so much higher.

He desperately searched his pockets for the hotel key as he approached the room. When he couldn’t find it, he realized it was likely he had left that in (Y/N)’s purse, too. He sighed and began knocking on the door.

“(Y/N)?” he said, his voice soft. “Baby, can you let me in? I think my key is in your purse.” When there was no movement, he added, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should’ve listened to you. Slim admitted to putting my wallet in your bag, turns out he had it all along. I...I should never have thought it was you. I shouldn’t have said what I said. Can...can you let me in, please?”

There was silence. Not even signs of movement. Colson’s heart began to race as he realized the likeliness that (Y/N) had left. He had no idea where she could’ve gone, and now he didn’t even have any way of reaching her.

The door suddenly opened and (Y/N)’s tearstained face looked up at him. She didn’t say anything as she turned away and walked back into the hotel room. Colson followed in silence, unsure of what else to say. He just wanted to hold her and apologize forever, to do anything and everything she wanted to make things better.

(Y/N) got back into bed and laid with her back to Colson. He stood there in the dark, just looking at her.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“You called me a gold digger,” (Y/N) responded, her voice equally as small. “After almost a year together, you called me a fucking gold digger.”

“I know - ”

“We’ve talked about how much those tabloid stories get to me, how upset they make me, and you really had the audacity to bring that up and not believe me when I said that I didn’t take your wallet.”

The fact that her voice wasn’t angry, but rather sad, made everything so much worse. Colson winced at her words, feeling a lump form in his throat.

“I know,” he repeated. “I don’t know why I said any of that. I didn’t mean it, I know you love me. I just...I have no excuses. I am a total fucking idiot and you have every right to be angry with me. I know I’m sorry won’t cut it, but for now that’s all I can say. I really am sorry.”

There was another prolonged silence. (Y/N) didn’t even move from her place on the bed. Colson had accepted the fact that she probably hated him and was preparing to go stay with one of the guys for the night, when he heard the bed shift and (Y/N)’s soft voice ask, “Did the guys give you shit?”

Colson smiled to himself. “Yeah, they did. They called me an idiot.”

“You are one.”

“I know.”

Through the darkness of the room, Colson could see (Y/N) lift the blankets and gesture for him to join her. He quickly kicked off his shoes and threw his jacket somewhere on the floor. The minute his body connected with hers, he felt relief wash over him. He hugged her tightly, never wanting to let her go.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head and repeating the sentiment over and over.

“And I love you, as in you - Colson Baker. Not Machine Gun Kelly, not the man with the money. I love the real you.”

“I know you do. I promise I’ll never doubt that again baby.”

(Y/N) relaxed into Colson’s arms, still a bit hurt from what he had said but happy to have him there with her. Finally, after some time, the two drifted off to sleep.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #mgk #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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mikauzoran · 3 years

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Adrienette and DJ WiFi: Deception (One-Shot)

Summary: A game of two truths and a lie unexpectedly reveals Adrien’s identity when he tells a truth that only Ladybug should know.

Read it on AO3: Adrienette and DJ WiFi: Deception

“I was going easy on you,” Alya grumbled, petulantly throwing a piece of popcorn at Nino when he guessed which of her three statements had been the lie.

“No, you weren’t,” Nino crowed smugly. “I’m just that good.”

Alya rolled her eyes and nearly shoved her boyfriend into the Dupain-Chengs’ coffee table. “Take your turn already.”

Nino cleared his throat and sat up straighter as he announced, “I’ve seen Jaws thirty-four times. My first kiss was at the zoo. If I couldn’t be a DJ or a film director, I’d want to be a therapist.”

His companions narrowed their eyes, trying to ascertain which claim was untrue.

Alya bit her lip as she realized that she wasn’t sure if she had been Nino’s first kiss or not.

“There’s no way you’ve watched that awful shark movie thirty-four times,” she guessed, mentally crossing her fingers.

Marinette snickered. “His first kiss was at school when we were five. He made Juleka cry when he kissed Rose on the cheek.”

“Rascal,” Alya accused, laughing as she slapped Nino on the arm.

Nino shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “She told me the way I talked was pretty. It meant a lot to five-year-old Nino. People had always teased me, so it was a big deal.”

“Why did people tease you?” Adrien inquired, a deep crease in his brow. “Did you have a speech impediment when you were little?”

Nino shook his head. “The first couple years of my life in Morocco, I spoke mainly Arabic. It was weird speaking in French all the time.”

Alya and Adrien’s mouths and eyes formed wide circles of surprise.

Nino shrugged again. “Marinette, your turn.”

Marinette bit her lip, trying to come up with some good ones. “I…have been sky diving.”

Or close enough what with jumping off the Eiffel Tower and falling out of the sky multiple times.

“I’m not a good cook…and my favourite Jagged Stone song is Rock and Roll, Baby.”

She grinned at her friends, looking from one to the next expectantly.

“I call bull on the sky diving,” Alya decreed.

Marinette made a buzzer sound. “Nope. Guess again.”

“Wait. Seriously?!” Alya stared at her best friend incredulously. “When’d you go sky diving?!”

“Akuma fight,” Marinette snickered.

Alya groaned and rolled her eyes while Nino held out his fist to Marinette for a fist bump.

“The song is actually called Wanna Rock and Roll, Baby,” Adrien remarked confidently, “but you stopped listening to Jagged’s music three years ago.”

Marinette gave Adrien a round of applause. “We have a winner!”

“Nice, Mec,” Nino added appreciatively as Alya continued to pout.

“Your turn, Cupcake,” Alya urged. “Make it good.”

Adrien’s teeth kneaded his bottom lip as he considered his options. “…Okay. I’ve got some good ones. I adore Camembert. I speak five languages at at least a conversational level…and I’ve kissed Ladybug.”

Nino winced, reaching out a hand to rest on Adrien’s shoulder as he kindly informed, “My Bro, the point of the game is to not make the lie so obvious.”

“There’s no way you’ve kissed Ladybug,” Alya snickered. “My turn.”

“That wasn’t the lie,” Adrien protested.

Alya and Nino took turns blinking at him.

Marinette went uncharacteristically still.

“Wait. What?” Nino’s brow scrunched up into a befuddled frown.

“You’ve kissed Ladybug?!” Alya demanded. “Oh my gosh. Details!”

Blushing, Adrien looked away. “It was an akuma kiss,” he confessed sheepishly. “It doesn’t really count, and I don’t even remember it.”

Marinette’s ears perked up as realization dawned on her, leaving her speechless and struggling to remember how to breathe.

The incident quickly blew over when it became clear that Adrien had no more details to share, and Alya suggested that they watch the short movie Nino had made with his university film club.

When everyone was getting ready to head home for the night, Marinette tentatively reached out and rested a hand on Adrien’s elbow. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure,” Adrien agreed unsuspectingly as he waved goodbye to Nino and Alya. “What’s up?”

Marinette gently pushed the door shut and took a bolstering inhale. “You…You said you’d kissed Ladybug during an akuma attack.”

Adrien winced, his cheeks quickly heating up in embarrassment. “Yeah, but, I mean… Not really. I—”

“—Adrien, I’ve only ever kissed one person during an akuma attack,” she pressed on resolutely. “So, if you’ve kissed me…that would mean you’re…” She swallowed, looking up into his rapidly widening eyes. “…Chaton?”

“…My Lady?” he breathed.

She nodded, a shy smile peeking out of the corner of her lips. “You know…sometime, I’d like to take you out to dinner, and, maybe afterwards, we could share a kiss that we’ll both remember? Would you like that?”

Adrien gulped. “I’d love that, Buguinette.”

#Adrinette #Adrienette #DJ WiFi #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Nino Lahiffe #Alya Césaire #MLB #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Identity Reveal #Two Truths and a Lie #Fluff #Writing Prompts #Mikau's Writings #Le Carnaval

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blackmissfrizzle · 5 years

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Playing Games

Summary: The reader uses her best seduction techniques on her man.

Pairing: black!reader x Florian Munteanu

Warnings: Smut and creepy dudes

A/N: Based on this video of Florian admiring some food.

It was all fun and games until you had to pay up. For his next big fight, Flo had sworn off sex and sweets. At first you thought you could manage and be the supportive girlfriend, but your libido and taste buds were saying, “Hell no!”

Florian said you didn’t have to give up sweets with him, but he wouldn’t budge on the no sex. He wanted to pent up all his energy for his opponent who kept talking shit.

Unfortunately, you only lasted a couple of weeks before the sex ban was getting to you and making you petty. First, Flo thought it was cute how you would flaunt and brag about the delicious goodies you were eating. It wasn’t the first time he gave them up and it wouldn’t be the last time either, but now you were starting to get disrespectful.

It all started when you saw his instastory of him at his favorite bakery, admiring all of the baked goods he couldn’t have, when an evil idea popped into your head.

Florian was frustrated. He hasn’t had any sweets, alcohol, hookah, and most importantly sex in weeks. Also, his opponent up’d his trash talking by talking about how Florian couldn’t handle all the ass you had, and he probably wasn’t dicking you down properly. Never had he ever wanted to beat the living shit out of someone before.

Right now, he needed a reprieve. All he wanted to do was shower, eat dinner, cuddle up with his girl and watch a movie. But once he stepped into the kitchen, he knew he wasn’t laying one finger on you.

When he entered the kitchen, he was greeted to the lovely but torturing sight of you eating a cake from his favorite bakery, dancing in your lacy black and red lingerie set.

Tucking his hands inside the pockets of his gym shorts to keep from reaching out to you, he tried his best to keep his face expressionless as you started to moan at the decadence of the dessert, knowing he was watching you intently.

“Like what you see Mr. Munteanu?” You teased before licking excess icing from your lip.

“Not particularly.” Flo smirked, pushing off the doorway, leaving you in the kitchen pouting.

You followed him up the stairs, admiring his broad back and reminiscing the good times when you used to claw at it.

He turned back at you, raised an eyebrow at you following him and then proceeded to your room. Flo dropped his gym bag with a loud thump and immediately began stripping.

Sitting in the middle of the bed, cris crossed applesauce, you enjoyed the show.

“I know what you’re doing Y/N and it’s not gonna work.”

“Whatever do you mean?” You played coy, your voice going a tinge higher, eyelashes fluttering.

Florian leaned on the bed towards you, he captured your lips in a heated kiss, no longer able to resist you. “I’m frustrated too, baby. But you can’t try to seduce me into sex. Now put on some clothes.”

Jumping from the bed, you stood in front of the giant, trying your best to intimidate him. Florian was the first man to make you feel small, which was hard to do. “What’s gonna happen if I don’t?”

Clenching his fists, Florian did his best not to wrap his hand around your throat because he knew that’s what you wanted. So instead, he glared at you like one of his opponents in the ring and brought his face dangerously close to your face. “Keep on, princess and you won’t walk for a week once this match is over.”

Your dumbass should’ve listened, but you didn’t. Knowing you had to no immediate consequences made you act a fool. Your loungewear got skimper and skimper with each day closer to the fight.

Flo almost got your ass after a night out with your girls, that time wasn’t your fault, but you knew he wanted to out that sexual frustration to use.

Arielle wanted to go out because she just broke up with her trifling ass ex, everyone else was stressed from work, and you were just sexually frustrated. So, naturally alcohol and some ass shaking were in need.

You and the girls were twerking and shouting a bunch of ‘ayyy’, ‘yasss’ and ‘get it, bitch’ when you heard, “Damn I bet Florian don’t know what to with that fatty.”

Whipping your head around you saw that it was Bryan ‘Steelo’ Henderson, the other boxer Flo was fighting, creepily leering at your ass. “Boy, go on somewhere and don’t worry about me and my man. Worry about your upcoming loss,” you eyed him up and down before flipping your hair and dismissing him.

“Nah, your man thinks he’s hot shit cuz he was in one movie, but he ain’t laying a hand on me. I’m knocking him out and then I’ll give you some of this daddy dick and show you how a real man fucks.” Steelo gripped your arm to turn you to him and on instinct you threw your drink in his face.

“Nigga, who the fuck you think you talking to like that?” You were heated and was ready to fuck this Godzilla looking motherfucker, but you weren’t trying to catch a case, so you stuck to cussing his ass out.

The constant buzzing of his phone pulled Florian out of his conversation with Masias. He thought it was Y/N’s friends alerting him that she was drunk, acting a fool and that he needed to come get her.

Instead people were ating him in a live Instagram video of you pointing your fingers in Steelo’s face, arguing with him.

Him his crew hurriedly paid for their unfinished dinner and rushed off to the nearby club. During the whole ride couldn’t stop watching the live and its comments.

Damn, it looks like she about to swing on this nigga.

Florian now you really got to beat his ass now.

Shittttt, I don’t blame my man Steelo shooting his shot. Do you see that wagon????

Oh, I’m buying the fight now. Shit’s about to be WWIII!

“You good, bro” Masias asked from the front, noticing Florian’s leg bounce up and down.

“Yeah. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to hold back once I see him. I’m kinda hoping Y/N gets to him first.” Flo admitted, without looking up from his phone.

A small smile formed on his lips as he watched you argue with Steelo. He knew you weren’t too far away from hitting him. You were a recreational boxer with a short temper and quick hands. If Steelo wasn’t careful he would be catching a quick fade.

When the car pulled up to the curb, Flo jumped out of the car before it could completely stop. Entering the club, he saw everyone circle around Y/N and Steelo filming the entire encounter.

The club got quiet after a girl yelled, “Hey, Big Nasty is here! Shit is about to pop off!”

After hearing the girl, you smiled at your man pushing his way through the crowd. Him in his SAMCRO hoodie and gold chain made you forget about Steelo and ready to jump his bones.

Once you were within arm’s reach, he gently shoved you behind and stood toe to toe with Steelo. “That’s the last time you put hands on my girlfriend, do you understand?”

Steelo rolled his shoulders as if he was preparing for a fight and pointed a finger at you. “You need to teach your bitch some manners and if you can’t I’ll volunteer to do so.”

Simultaneously, both of you crooked your heads to the side, trying to figure out if this fucker really said what you thought he said. Florian was quicker on the uptake, but you were right behind him and were able to grab his wrist before his fist went flying towards Steelo’s face.

With the strength of an Amazonian goddess, you pulled Flo away and out of the club. Meanwhile, Steelo kept running his mouth, “Yeah run off like a little bitch! I’ll have your ass knocked out in the first round.”

On the ride back home, Florian said nothing, but he held your hand in his, silently letting you know he wasn’t mad at you.

As soon as you were through the threshold of your home, Flo was on you. He ripped your dress down the middle and didn’t look the least bit sorry.

All he kept murmuring was he needed a little taste as he stripped you down, but his trainer had called to check on him fucking ruining your chance at some type of sex with Flo.

From that night on Flo slept in the guest room to resist temptation and your seduction. He wouldn’t even budge when he heard you loudly moan while touching yourself. All Florian knew was that as soon as the fight was over, he was gonna have his way with you.

Florian’s ban worked it’s magic because Steelo was ko’d within the first minute. That’s what that motherfucker gets for talking all that shit.

Karma was a bitch and just like Steelo, you knew you had to pay up. With the adrenaline from the fight pumping and all his pent-up sexual frustration, Flo was keeping his answer short in the post fight interview. Usually, he was friendly during those, but you could tell he was itching to get to you.

Looking down at your pussy, you patted her and gave her a pep talk. “Okay, girl we’re in it for the long haul. This is what we trained for. Get ready because Daddy isn’t gonna take it easy on us for the next couple of days. Thank God I took a vacation from work!”

“Bitch, I know you not talking to your coochie,” Arielle interrupted you.

“Hell yeah, I am! I’m debating should I be praying that I’ll still have my walls after tonight. Florian is about to wreck my shit! Oh, imma die,” you panicked. Teasing Florian was fun until you remembered it would catch up to you eventually.

Arielle laughed at you and gently pushed your shoulder. “I told you stop playing with that man like that. Now I gotta speak at your funeral and say, ‘Here lies my best friend because the dick was too bomb.’”

You glared at Arielle about to cuss her out when you saw him. Everyone was moving out of his way and exiting the room, because they could sense some shit was about to go down.

Noticing your eyes change from annoyance to fear and anticipation, Arielle turned around to see Florian making his way to you. She turned back at you and smiled before she followed everyone else out. “Good fight, Flo. See ya’ll later or never,” she mumbled the last part.

“Thanks,” he grunted, watching Arielle walk out.

Running to meet your man halfway you jumped into his arms. Even though you knew he was about to ruin you, you still had to congratulate your man. “Baby, I’m so proud of you! All your hard work paid off.” You nuzzled yourself into the crook of his neck and kissed alongside it.

Flo said nothing, he just backed you into the wall and bunched up your dress around your waist. Steadying one hand around your waist, the other went to your dripping core. “No panties, tonight?” Flo ticked his head to the side. “Huh, I guess you knew Daddy needed easy access tonight.”

Pulling his shorts down, his dick sprang free, bobbing up and down against his stomach. Your mouth watered at the sight, its been so long since you saw it and you wanted it in your mouth. Clutching to your boyfriend, you begged him, “Please let me suck it, Daddy.”

Florian moaned at the sound of you begging and he wanted nothing more than to fulfill your needs, but he was under a time constraint. “Not now, baby. When we have more time you can, but right now I’m about to pound my pussy and it has to be quick. That okay with you?”

Shaking your head yes, Florian kissed you and you moaned into his mouth as he savagely thrusted into you. Both of you broke the kiss once he started getting into his rhythm. “Fuck, I miss this pussy. Daddy’s so sorry for neglecting you.”

“Daddy, please,” you pleaded, already wanting to cum, not even ten strokes in.

“Not yet,” Flo gripped your chin to get you to look at him. “I hope you got all your rest earlier, because I’m fucking this pussy all night long and getting you pregnant tonight.”

Florian was digging in your pussy so well; you didn’t care about the wall scratching up your back. And to get back at him for making you feel so good, you tighten your walls around his dick.

“You naughty little girl,” Flo grunted, wrapping his hand around your throat. He started thrusting into wildly until he stilled, shooting his load into you. Before you could cum, he pulled himself out, fixed your dress, and tucked himself into his shorts.

Standing there shell-shocked, you were surprised Flo didn’t take care of you. He chuckled at your expression and pressed his lips to yours for a quick kiss. “What? You thought I let you get off easy? Baby, you should’ve known not to play such dangerous games. Now make sure, you don’t let go a drop of my cum while I take my shower. Then, I’ll fulfill my obligation for my appearance at the club and then I’ll fill my baby for the rest of the night.”

Your boyfriend kissed your forehead before heading to the shower, leaving you there contemplating if all your little games worth it. You smiled to yourself and thought, Hell yeah, I’m about to get the best dick of my life. Game on, Mr. Munteanu.

Tagging: @honeychicana @crushed-pink-petals @titty-teetee @thickemadame @munteanhore @twistedcharismaaa @thottyantics @songficsbyrissi @writtenbymar @autumnsoidier @blackgirlreadsfanfic @lovelymari4 @lotusss-flowerbomb @dumbchick @chaneajoyyy

#florian munteanu #florian munteanu x black!reader #florian munteanu x reader #florian #florian x reader #florian x black!reader #big nasty #big nasty x reader #big nasty x black!reader #black!reader #frizzlesfic #frizzlefic

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the-dead-skwad · 4 years

Text

Independent Part 1 X Tig Trager X Reader

My first Sons Of Anarchy fic. I dunno what it is about Tig but damn he’s hot. I have quite a few ideas for where this is going.

Summary: You catch the eye of Tig, going on a date at a sons party.

Mentions of abuse and some fighting. Smut to follow.

You saw red as you started your bike, you tried to take a breath to calm down but it didn't work. You revved the engine and kicked the stand from under you. Your sister ran out your shop "Y/N! Please don't!" But it was too late. Smoke followed behind you.

Pulling into the parking lot you saw a bunch of men standing around. You knew exactly who owned this garage but that wasn't going to stop you. If you got your ass beat you'd be fine. You could see him talking to someone, he had his back to you which was perfect. Bikes coming in and out of the place made no reason for anyone to turn around as you stopped. You put it back on the stand and took your helmet off leaving it hanging off the handlebars. You pulled your baseball bat from its own little sheath just under the right side of your seat.

"Hey doll you okay?" One of the bikers called over to you. He had messy black hair and piercing blue eyes.

You smiled "Just fine thanks." You swung the bat round in your hand before walking towards the group of men. "HEY! TONY!" Shouting as loud as you could.

He turned to look at you "Oh shi-"

Before he could finish you swung as hard as you could, the bat connected with his cheek shattering it completely. Blood sprayed as he fell to the ground. All the men around you shouted. Before anyone could stop you you hit him again. "You think its okay to hit women?" Everyone stopped as soon as they heard you. You bent down to get closer to his face. "I'm telling you now Meg is coming to live with me. You don't call her, text her, you so much as think about my little sister again and I will kill you." You stood back up and placed your boot on his cheeky pressing his face closer into the dirt "That isn't a threat asshole. That’s a promise." You kicked him as hard as your could in the stomach before turning on your heal back to your bike. You wiped the blood off your bat on a rag hanging on the back of your bike.

"Jesus girl." The same biker looked at Tony spitting blood in the dirt "You got a swing and a half on you."

"He got what was coming to him."

"No doubt." He smiled sweetly at you."I gotta know your name."

"Gotta know or wanna know?" You winked at him "Come by my store one day. Studio next to the barbers and I'd kick that piece of shit outta here if I was you." You revved your engine before speeding out the garage.

He turned to the guy stood by him "Jesus man.. she's wife material."

Back at your studio you flicked through the bookings. Your afternoon was empty and it was your day off tomorrow. Looked like you could close up early for once. You went into the back office, your sister sat across the sofa with an ice pack on her head. "Hey bro, how you feeling?"

"My head hurts but personally I feel better. Thank you again."

"No problem." You sat at one of the desk chairs "We got a free afternoon and all day tomorrow. Wanna do something?"

"Err," She pulled a face "I'm not quite ready to go out yet. I think I'm going to get settled at yours, have a shower and watch a film."

"That’s fine. Sounds like a good plan to be honest." You stood from the chair "I've already cashed up so I'll go and lock the doors and I can take you home."

"Perfect." She stuck her thumbs up at you.

Leaning over the counter you grabbed your keys, as you turned a man stood at your door scared the life out of you. It was the biker "Fuck man." You opened the door "You scared the shit outta me."

"Sorry about that gorgeous." He leaned on the door frame.

"You're very eager." raising one of your eyebrows at him.

"There's something about you doll.. Amazing."

"Wow, thanks. The names Y/N"

"Tig." He smiled at you "Look if you aint busy tonight one of our boys is getting out tonight, throwing him a party at the club house. You should come."

"Well..." a smirk crept up your face "I suppose I could swing by."

"Want me to pick you up?"

"And give you my address? I aint that easy Tig. I know where it is."

He smiled again, his eyes were so mesmerizing "Ight, see you at like 9?"

"Sure." You leaned in, closing the already small gap between you and kissed him on the cheek. He walked away with a grin stretched across his face as you closed the door behind you. You went in the back to help your sister carry her stuff.

She frowned at you "Who was that and why you smiling so damn much?"

"Ermm.." You turned to look at her as you picked up one of her bags "I think I have a date."

"You what? The most independent woman I don't ever need a man ever has a date?" The way she spoke made you laugh "Who on earth tricked you into a date?"

"His name is Tig." You turned to say the second part under your breath "He's an SOA."

"Wait!" She tried to stop you but you ran past her to your bike. "Hey!" She ran out the studio after you "Did you just say he was an SOA?"

"Yeahhhh.." You locked the studio door and threw her bag into the back of her truck. "Look I know the rep they have. He seems nice but he probs just want to sleep with me."

"And your okay with that?"

You shrugged "A girl got needs."

"You're gross! I'll see you in like 2 minutes." She started her truck and drove off. You were in such high spirits you really fancied a detour on the bike, but you had to go home and try to find an outfit.

"No!" You threw your self on the bed.

"Stop being dramatic!" Meg was face first in your wardrobe. "You have loads of clothes!"

"I'm going to a party at the god damn sons of anarchy club house. I can't go to nice because all those hot groupies will show me up but I don't want to look like a groupie at the same time."

"Sis they are called prostitutes and you are not a prostitute now shut up and put this on." She threw a dress at you.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, black velvet dress with the sides cut out, Dr marten boots with boot socks rolled down, checkered shirt. Pretty much your entire body was tattooed which went with your outfit perfectly.

"You sure you don't want to borrow some heels?"

"I don't wear heels and I'm going on my bike."

She held her hands up "Fair enough. Well I hope you have a great time and I won't wait up."

"Yeahhh I wouldn't wait." You walked to the door.

You're disgusting!" She threw a pillow at you as you left.

-- Pulling into the parking lot you started to get a little nervous. You were so busy with the studio it had been ages since you went in a date. You pulled up in an empty spot. The music was blasting out already. People everywhere, most of them half naked women.

As you clipped your helmet to the handle bars a voice came from not far behind you. "Hey."

You turned to see Tig "Hi." You smiled at him as he walked over to you.

"You look beautiful." He passed you a bottle.

"Thanks." You took the bottle from his hands and kissed him on the cheek. He walked in with you and most people stared straight at you. You finished your drink straight away. "I'm gonna need something stronger."

"I like your thinking." He grabbed a bottle of Jack from the table and poured you a couple of shots each.

You felt instantly better. He started introducing you to all the other sons. They were all really nice to you. Some a little pervy but Tig was definitely the worst. He hardly actually looked at your face.

The night was going really smoothly. You and Tig got on like a house on fire and all the guys treated you as though you were already one of the family. As you returned from the bathroom you noticed a girl with her tits just hanging out trying to sit on his knee. You could hear what he was saying "Look miss, its real nice you got your boobies out but I have a girl with me tonight."

"Awh but you know I'm way more fun that her."

Marching over you tapped her on the shoulder "Excuse me?" She spun around and got right in your face "He said he aint interested sweetheart."

"And who the fuck are you? No one has ever said no to me."

You looked her up and down "I highly doubt that." Your comment made Juice spit out his drink.

"You his old lady?"

"I don't belong to anyone hunny."

She pushed you at the shoulders "So you aint important."

Tig stood up to stop her but you put your hand out, this was your fight "Touch me again I'll knock you the fuck out."

She did, pushing you back again. With one move you headbutted her in the nose, knocking her to the ground. She grabbed her face and started shouting. "Shut up and get out my face." You sat back down next to Tig. "Stupid bitch." You grabbed hold of the bottle of Jack on the table and took a huge swig. You lit a cig and leaned back in the chair.

"God damn girl!" Juice cheered. "Gemma's gonna love you."

You looked over at Tig who was just staring at you. "That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He launched at you kissing you deeply. At first it took you back but then you sank into the kiss. He tasted like cigarettes and whiskey which just made you even more turned on. Breaking the kiss you sat back in your chair and took another drag of your cig. You looked around the table to realize all the guys were all over the women they were sat with, paying no attention to you guys. You looked into his icy blue eyes, a smirk crept up your face. You could tell on his face he was thinking the exact same as you. You both stood without saying anything to anyone else around the table. He grabbed hold of your hand as he walked past some of the rooms. You stopped for a second to admire the bike on display. He spun you around so you were facing him.

"Am I boring you?"

"Not at all." You leaned into a kiss. The pace picked up fast and before you knew it he had pushed you against a door. Wrapping your legs around him he kissed down your neck.

You were so close to having sex right there in the hall way when Opie rounded the corner. "Fuck sake man... Can't you at least do that in your room."

"Fuck off."Tig's voice was muffled as he was face first in your breasts. He moved one hand off your ass and he reached for the door knob. He pushed you through the door and threw you onto his bed. He stood over you for a second and lick his lips "You ready baby."

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #alex tig trager #tig imagine #tig trager imagine #alex trager imagine

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thosekidswhohuntmonsters · 5 years

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Playing With Fire

Summary: Sure Tom is twice the readers age, but she's tired of being treated as some naive little thing. When she finally confronts Tom she soon finds out that she's playing with fire.

Word Count: 2780

Rating: v spicy, deff 18+

Authors note: almost finished reposting all my tom stories! woohoo!

♡if you enjoy this fic you’re welcome to leave a reblog/like/comment! feedback is not only welcomed but encouraged!♡

The interviewer was nearly beaming, “So in the last trailer, there was quite the scene between you and Tom”. Instantly you smiled, knowing exactly what scene she was referencing. Without answering the question you teased, “That was in there for like a split second, how did you all pick up on it?”.

Anthony intervened, “Because it was you and Hiddleston getting it on...that’s all the world could ask for!”. The crowd ate up Anthony’s response, cheering wildly for him. Finally Tom spoke up, “I didn’t know our kiss had the ability to save an entire planet (y/n)”.

Turning to him you nodded your head, “I don’t know, it was a pretty good kiss”. While Tom tried to hide a blush, all the fans went wild again. Unable to resist you added, “I mean..am I wrong here or?”.

That caused you and all of your castmates to erupt with laughter. Evans shimmied a little bit, “Ohh (y/n) I think his inability to answer the question means it was”. You didn’t know who was more excited, the audience or the interviewer.

Quickly she added, “ I think the chemistry between your characters is quite prevolevent, we see sort of a build up in the last film and now it seems to be exploding”. Hoping you weren’t alone with the millions of dirty jokes filling your mind you turned to Sebastian, and the look on his face made you realize you weren’t the only one.

Anthony was more blunt, “Y’all are getting very creative with phrasing nowadays…”. The interviewer smiled, and she was nearly blushing herself. You laughed a little, “I was afraid I’d been the only one picking up on the double meanings here”.

Reeling you all back in as if you were children Tom finally spoke up. His voice was soft, “No other character has had an immediate effect on Loki in the way (y/n)’s character has. I think Taiki did a wonderful job in the last film not only introducing her, but almost showing her through Loki’s eyes at some points”.

He finished his sentence with a warm smile as he held your gaze. You smiled too, “Working with Taiki was amazing, I think he’s the reason why my character was able to flourish in the way she did. The response I’ve gotten from fans is just incredible”.

Evans made a face, “That was sweet, but neither of you answered the question. Let’s be real, Loki wants to smash”. Once again the entire room, the stage included, was filled with laughter.

Chris patted Tom’s shoulder, “I mean sorry bro but I’m right aren’t I?”. As if on cue the entire audience shouted back “yes” to Chris, only encouraging him. An eager hush fell over the room as everyone waited to see how you and Tom would respond.

Tom adjusted his glasses, “I mean..that’s one way to put it Chris. I’d much prefer to say that the desire from Loki’s side is definitely there, but he’s trying to keep it hidden. It’s another internal battle Loki has with himself; to indulge in his feelings or remain closed off”.

Chris rolled his eyes at Tom’s nearly poetic response, but soon found himself smiling. All eyes turned to you, waiting to see your take on things. You saw hundreds of phones in the audience, all recording your next words.

“While I feel that my character is complex, and still developing on screen, I think she has more freedom. While she shares having a rough past with Loki, she uses hers as motivation to not waste any of her present. Chris put it beautifully, she wants to smash”.

It was so entertaining to see everyone's faces during your heartfelt answer, and the watch their reactions change completely. Tom was shaking his head but there was a clear smirk across his face.

The panel went on and you and your castmates continued to enjoy yourselves. With the movie coming out in a couple days, everyone was less stressed about having to keep secrets. You loved teasing Tom Holland about his spoiling, but you could relate to his stress.

After the panel had finally finished you were all moved to a waiting room. Instantly Evans asked, “So what are we all doing later?”. Everyone began throwing out different plans, naming certain bars and clubs, but Tom was silent.

Quietly you asked, “Are you seriously not going out with the group?”. He laughed softly before turning his head towards you. He whispered back, “Love I hate to disappoint but-”. Maybe it was because of his last breakup, but he’d been in a funk.

You didn’t even let him continue, “Fine if you’re not going out then I’m at least not letting you stay in alone”. Before he could protest Chris repeated over the final plans for tonight, the group reaching their consensus.

You smiled, “I’d love to see what drunk shenanigans you all get into, especially you Chris, but I think I’m tapping out tonight. Rain Check on making horrible decisions we’ll all regret in the morning?”.

Chris raised one of his eyebrows as he tried to figure out why you’d say no, sure you weren’t the biggest drinker but you’d always been down to come along. After finally putting things together he grinned, “Sure thing kid, I have a feeling you’re gonna enjoy yourself anyways”.

While the group continued to talk about what tonight would entail, you continued to hold Chris’s gaze. When he knew no one else was looking he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and mouthed, “finally”.

Knowing exactly what he’d meant you rolled your eyes overdramatically mouthing back, “Fuck off”. Chris laughed it off, knowing full well that you were just joking. He was one of your closest friends, and he knew nearly everything about you.

Mundane things like your favorite color and time of the year, but more interesting things like your turn offs’ and ons’, and especially the fact that you had a major crush on Tom Hiddleston.

Preparing for tonight everyone went their separate ways, different security guards escorting everyone to their rooms and such. As the room became empty Tom turned to you, “Love are you sure you don’t want to go out with the rest of the group?”.

You smiled, “One can always get drunk, but spending a night discovering what the Tom Hiddleston thinks is fun is a once in a lifetime opportunity”. Once again he tried to hold back a smirk, but couldn’t.

“Hate to disappoint but my night is going to begin in my hotel room”. You didn’t back down, infact Tom had no idea how that was all you’d ever wanted to hear. Boldly you teased, “Normally that's where a night ends”.

It felt good to see him laugh, especially if it was from something you’d said. As the guards let you both to the elevators he softly said, “Darling you are trouble”. You watched him bite his lip, and you thought you were going to explode right then and there.

Within a minute or two you were in his room, a huge fucking bundle of nerves but trying to mask it. As he closed the door you asked, “So let me guess, we start the night off with some tea?”.

He chuckled softly, “I was thinking wine”. You gasped while placing a hand over your heart, causing him to laugh once again from your teasing. Tom sat down on the bed and began calling room service.

While you waited you continued to look around the room, well really it was more of like a mini apartment. Something you’d never get used to was the rooms marvel put you all up in, it was much more luxurious than needed.

Tom’s drink choice only made your nerves only worse. He’d been acting as if this was going to be some boring night, but here you were dressed to the nines in his hotel room about to order a bottle of wine.

After you heard him hang up the phone you turned back around to face him. With fake casualness you asked, “What's next on the agenda?”. You were starting to think you had no idea where this night was going to go.

Tom began taking off his tie, “First I’m getting out of this bloody suit”. For a moment you blinked, pretty sure you were just dreaming at this point. After realizing you were staring you nodded your head.

“Oh you don’t know the half of it hun”. With that you stepped out of your heels and began taking off your jewelry. By now his button up was hanging loosely from his body, “Well you look ravishing”.

You were leaning against one of the bureaus, while he still sat down on the bed. You felt lighter now with most of your outfit off, “I’m on to you Tom, and your whole gentleman act”. He raised his eyebrows at you, still playing dumb.

“Anything leaving that pretty mouth of yours is trouble, but the word ravishing? Makes a girl feel all kinds of things”.

Slowly Tom’s tongue ran over his lips, before he bit his bottom lip altogether. You heard a knock on the door but before you answered it you repeated, “Trouble”. Tom never felt more connected to Loki than in this exact moment.

He was having his own internal struggle right now; to finally let you know how he feels, or to fight back the most intense feelings of desire he’s ever experienced. Throughout this entire night he’d slowly been losing; inviting you up to his room, ordering wine for you both, eyeing you like you were a meal, but he couldn’t help himself.

It didn’t help either that you’d been teasing him nonstop, it was like you were begging him to make a move. Leaning forward while taking off your shoes giving him a perfect look at your cleavage, teasing him about where a good night ends, it was all getting to him.

After tipping the hotel staff you entered back into the room, “Alright Hiddleston, let’s get down to it”. You’d pulled him out of his thoughts, causing him to finally look back up at you. Walking towards him you placed down the two glasses on the nightstand, still holding the bottle in your hands.

Tom was apprehensive, “And what exactly is it?”. You wiggled your eyebrows making him smile. After you both laughed you got serious, “This funk you’ve been in. Is it because your last rela-”.

He shook his head, his ex was the last thing he’d been thinking about. She’s left his mind months ago, and hadn’t entered his thoughts since. You on the other hand had nearly consumed him.

The only thing that stopped him was that he was nearly twice your age, you were only twenty-three. You were young, playful, a complete tease, but the worst part was that your qualities weren’t just skin deep.

You were also everything he’d ever wanted emotionally; always so concerned about your friends well being, empathetic, incredibly funny, so wonderful to your fans, and somehow much wiser than most people his age.

Getting up from the bed you began to pour yourself a glass, “Look, you can get tipsy and tell me what’s wrong or you can tell me when you’re sober and skip all the awkwardness of the morning after”. He shook his head, if you wanted honesty he’d give it to you.

“You sure you want the truth (y/n)?”. You nearly spit out your wine, was he being serious? Sarcastically you asked, “What can I not handle the truth?”. Your reaction caused Tom to shake his head.

“Darling, I think you’re being a little naive. You still have some-”. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, he was playing the age card. Sure you were younger, but hey you were older than Tom Holland!

You shook your head, “Oh so I’m too young and innocent now? What could you possibly have to say that my fragile little ears can’t handle?”. You could feel the moment escalating, especially with the look in his eyes.

His voice was sultry, “Oh love you’d be surprised”. You wanted to doubt him but the current look on his face sent shivers down your spine. Trying to regain your confidence you said, “Then surprise me”.

Tom got off of the bed completely, and started walking around the room. His tie had been loosely hanging around his neck but now he’d gripped it in his hands. It was like a prop, “For starters, you’re too seductive for your own good”.

God how did he make sex sound like shakespeare? Your eyes widened, “Tom what does that even mean?”. Sighing he ran his hands through his hair, he was trying to find the words. He looked to you again, “Do you have any idea of your affect on me? How flustered you make me in front of thousands?”.

As he continued he groaned, “God it just makes me want too-”. He stopped himself mid-sentence, knowing that he was going to shift the entire mood if he continued. By now he was standing in front of you, only inches away physically by a sea away mentally.

You looked up at him, “Makes you want to want? What does it make you want to do to me?”. He’d told you that you were playing with fire but you were calling his bluff. His voice was deeper now, “Little girls shouldn't play with fire”.

That sentence went right to your core. The thing was that Tom looked like he was enjoying himself while saying it, it was the most blissful he’d been in months. You licked your lips, “Are you afraid you’re going to take advantage of me somehow? I’m twenty-three years old Tom”.

As you continued you let one of your hands trail up your body, “You treat me like I’m some innocent fragile little girl, but I’m not as vanilla as you think”. Your response only seemed to amuse him more.

“Have you ever considered that I like that you’re older than me? I don’t want some little boy, I want a man. I want someone to take control, and satisfy my needs”.

His breathing was deeper now, any control he’d been clinging on to had now vanished. Leaning forward he placed his hands on either side of you, almost trapping your body. His voice was much deeper now, “Why don’t you really tell me what you want me to do”.

You leaned forward, “What? That I want you to fuck me like a real man? Pin me down and take me? I don’t know Tom, I’m so fragile and innocent I might break”. Your smirk was the largest it had been all night.

He let his hand trail softly down your cheek before gripping your chin tightly. Tom used his grip to tilt your head up and hold it firmly in place, “You little minx”. You licked your lips, you desire showing now more than ever.

“Look at you now, licking your lips inches from my throbbing cock. Is that what you want love, my cock wrapped around those pretty lips?”.

You nodded your head, convinced that if you tried to speak you’d just moan. Shaking his head he groaned again, he couldn’t believe how beautiful you looked. He’d never had someone look up at him so intoxicated before, and he imagined he’d been looking the same way at you.

Tom was letting himself go, finally indulging in ways he’d wanted too ever since your first scene together. He clicked his tongue, “As much as I’d love to see that, I think some payback is in order”.

To your surprise Tom got down on his knees before you, his face now level with yours. Slowly his hands ran up your thighs and pushed back your skirt, “Well darling, let’s hope you’re not this quiete for much longer”.

As you watched the smirk form upon his lips you knew his whole gentlemen act had finally been through completely out the door. You started to pull your dress off completely, “Be careful what you wish for babe”.

Using his grip on your thighs he pulled you closer to his mouth. His tongue darted out of his mouth and swept across his bottom lip, “And I’m trouble?”. Together you laughed for a moment, thankful for how effortless this all felt.

Tom was amazed how you could so easily flow from making him smile and laugh to wanting to rip your clothes off and pin you against the nearest wall. He decided that he didn’t want to waste anymore time thinking, and finally start doing.

♡ thank you for taking the time to read this, you’re a babe♡

Forever tags: aka some amazing people: @moonlessnight14 @sexyvixen7 @angieptt @painkiller80 @becca-dolan @team-heichou @thatpeachybandgirl @allthesesonsobitches @buckybarneshairpullingkink @couldabeenamermaid @taeeemin@littleredstarfish @nali67 @only4wakingup @mcenziehughes

*if there is a line through your name that means that for some reason it won’t allow me to tag you*

*forever tags are always open*

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fic

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whumpishstuff · 5 years

Text

*Ji and Lance part 3*

part 2

“Ok, Lance. You’re going to pick today, ok?” Ji tries to make his voice sound authoritative without sounding angry. Lance looks up at him with wide eyes from his signature spot next to the couch.

“Yes, Master.” Lance’s body is tense with anxiety, but Ji has found that he won’t disobey a direct order. He sits on the couch, close to Lance, and presses the remote in his hand.

Lance scrolls Netflix, looking up questioningly at Ji as he pauses on each movie. Ji just motions to the TV, wanting Lance to pick something that he’s interested in, like they had discussed. Lance turns and stares at the screen with intense concentration. He stops on a nature documentary, and peers up nervously at Ji.

“You wanna watch that one?” Ji tries to keep his expression neutral.

“Do you want to, Master?” Lance seems uneasy, like he’s anticipating punishment.

“That’s not what I asked.” Ji knows that it won’t mean anything if he ends up choosing for him.

“...I am... interested in this film. I would like to watch it, if that’s alright with you, Master.” Lance braces himself for the discipline that comes with requesting something for himself.

“Nice choice, hon.” Ji plucks the remote from his hand and plays the documentary. They watch the film in silence. Ji tries to make conversation a few times, but he knows he’s already asked a lot of Lance, so gives up.

Ji checks his phone, having silenced it so he could focus on spending time with Lance. Six missed calls from Anwir. Ten texts, one that declares that he’s coming over.

“Uh, Lance?”

“Yes, Master?”

“Anwir’s coming over... for some reason.”

“Yes, Master.”

Anwir’s the only person he’s introduced Lance to, and Anwir took a liking to him immediately. He’s a lot more comfortable with the “pet” role Lance fills than Ji is. He has no problem with Lance kneeling at his feet, he even pets his head. Ji suspects that Anwir is involved in the BDSM scene or something of the sort, but he doesn’t ask because he doesn’t want to prompt Anwir into one of his signature inappropriate rambles.

“Duuuude! Let me in! It’s important!” Anwir’s voice is loud even through the door. Ji rushes to let him in, not wanting another complaint from his neighbors.

Anwir yanks the door open as soon as Ji turns the lock. “THEY’RE COMING FOR LANCE DUDE!” He shoves Ji out of the doorway and slams the door shut.

“Wha-? Are you on coke again?! We talked about this!” Ji rubs his face, frustrated by the thought of having to force Anwir into rehab again.

“NO DUDE! This is for realsies! Some big scary guys in suits showed up at my apartment!” He grabs Ji’s shoulders, shaking him roughly. “They asked me about Lance! I said I didn’t know what they’re talking about but THEY HAD PICTURES OF ME GOING INTO YOUR HOUSE! THE JIG IS UP DUDE!”

“Ok. Ok. Just calm down. Why would ‘scary guys in suits’ care about where Lance is staying?” He pries Anwir’s hands off his shoulders.

“Because he’s a pet, dude. And his Master must want him back!” Ji just squints at him, trying to decide if he’s high or not. Anwir sighs dramatically, rubbing his eyes. “Look, dude, I haven’t told you about this stuff ‘cuz I didn’t want to worry you. This ‘Master and Pet’ thing has a community.”

“Huh?” Ji interrupts him. “Are we talking like a BDSM club kinda thing?”

Anwir fixes him with an annoyed look. “No. I’m talking about an underground community of sickos who kidnap people like Lance. Abuse them. Keep them as pets, like dogs. They are rich and they are powerful, so they get away with it. And they want Lance back.”

Ji gapes at him, unable to process the entirety of what he’s being told.

“They will do whatever it takes to get their pet back. You are in danger. You both are.” Anwir has never seemed this serious before, and it freaks Ji out.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THIS BEFORE?!”

“Because it seemed like Lance had lost them! And you don’t have any ties to them, so I didn’t think they’d find you.” Anwir looks at his shoes, guilt showing on his face.

“Why do you even know about all this? Are you... involved?” Ji’s heart is pounding, and he’s scared. Scared that the only person that he’s trusted Lance with has had bad intentions the whole time.

“No dude! I mean, a friend of a friend is, and I ended up doing some odd jobs for the group, but that was before I found out what it is they do.” His face twists up like he might cry. “When you introduced me to Lance, I figured out that he used to be a pet. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell you, and possibly ruin your and Lance's relationship.”

Ji’s expression softens. “I get it man. I’m not mad. But what am I gonna do?!”

“Well, I have an idea. It seems like they aren’t actually sure that you have Lance. If they did, they’d probably just take him by force. If we hide him for a bit, and you let them check things out here, they’ll think that they had the wrong guy. They’ll go continue their goose chase somewhere else, and you guy’s’ll be safe.” Anwir wrings his hands as he speaks, his tense body emanating anxiety.

“Where would I hide him though?” Ji takes Anwir’s hands in his, massaging the tension out of them.

“I can take him. My parents have a cabin up in the woods that no one ever uses. If I’m careful there won’t be any trail, Lance and I can stay up there until things cool down.” He gives Ji a small smile, clutching his shaking hands tightly.

“You’d do that for us?” Ji’s eyes fill with tears.

“Of course man. Let me pay you back for all the times you’ve patched me up after my stupid bar fights and shit.” Ji pulls him into a hug, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Ji pulls back, both stress and relief contorting his features. “Should I pack him a bag right away?”

“Yeah, we better get this thing rolling. The sooner the better. I’m gonna go make sure Lance is ok. I’m sure he’s been listening.”

“Oh shit. Yeah. You do that, I’ll go pack his bag.”

“Hey, pal. Did you hear us talking?” Anwir squats down next to where Lance is kneeling.

“Yes, Sir.” Lance doesn't make eye contact with him, as per usual.

“Alright, so you understand why you need to come stay with me for a while?” He stands and sits on the couch. His eyes never leaving Lance’s face.

“Yes, Sir.” Lance’s expression doesn’t change, although Anwir thinks that he can sense sadness radiating from him.

“This isn’t you fault, ok?” He gently lays his hand on Lance’s slight shoulder.

“...Yes, Sir.” His eyes well up with tears despite his efforts to be well behaved for his Master’s friend.

“Awww, don’t cry! Ji and I are gonna get this all worked out. Then you two can be all lovey-dovey again in peace.” Anwir chuckles at his teasing, patting Lance’s shoulder.

Ji strides into the room, duffel bag in hand. He kneels down, facing Lance. “I’m really sorry about this, hon. But it’ll just be for a little while, ok?” His tears don’t go unnoticed.

Lance’s face pinches with guilt. “I-I’m so sorry, Master.” He sniffles, tears wetting his cheeks.

Ji pulls Lance into a hug, glaring up at Anwir when he whistles at the display of affection.

“Well... The sooner we’re out of here, the safer we’ll be.” Anwir pats both Ji and Lance on the head and grabs Lance’s bag. Ji presses a loving kiss to Lance’s forehead, and helps him up. The three make their way to Anwir’s car, Ji holding Lance’s hand the entire way.

“Alright, bro. Get rid of any trace of Lance. When they show up, and believe me they will, just let them poke around. They won’t find any evidence of a pet, so they won’t have any reason to fuck with you. I’ll bring him back like a week after they leave, just to be safe. Got it?” Anwir jerks him into a hug before he can even answer.

“Yeah man. I got it. Keep me updated, ok?” Ji turns and pats Lance’s head, giving him a sad smile.

“No worries man. I’ll text you when we get there. And I’ll take good care of him.” Anwir fixes him with a smile as he leads Lance to the passenger side.

Ji waves to them as the car pulls away. Lance timidly waves back. Anwir sticks his entire arm through his window, swinging it like a madman. Ji can’t help but laugh, despite the solemn situation.

Once the car is out of sight, he makes his way inside, ready to scrub away every hint of Lance’s existence.

#whump #well there isn't really whump in this one #just plot #drabble #my writing #ji #lance #anwir

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today-only-happens-once · 6 years

Text

In Pieces

Title: In Pieces

Word Count: 3698

Summary: Thomas may not have the whole picture, but he has enough of it. for @justisaisfine’s Sanders Bro AU. Familial LAMP/CALM, plus “guess I’m an uncle now” Thomas.

Warnings: parental abuse, food mention, yelling, cursing, physical abuse depicted through acting, sort of crying, I have no idea how real movie sets/filming work so it’s probably not accurate woops

Author’s note: I love Isa’s Sanders Bro AU an abnormal amount, probably. So of course I had to write a fic for it because I have no chill. Credit for the AU and the entire basis for the fic (from this post) is all to them. Please, please check out the AU on their blog because it is amazing. This fic certainly pales in comparison, but I hope it’s not too terrible. Heh. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but here it is regardless! Huge thanks to Isa for also answering my anon asks for clarification about a few things. Hope some of this isn’t too far off course. Edited by yours truly, so all mistakes are mine.

Tags: @creativenostalgiastuff@helloisthisusernametaken @ren-allen @lizaelsparrow @princelogical @random-pianist @ravenclawicecream @erlenmeyertrash @milomeepit @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes @rileyfirstname @pinkeasteregg @sassy-in-glasses@vigilantvirgil@generalfandomfabulousness@lacrimosathedark@thepoolofthedead @monikastec @heir-of-the-founders @yourworstnightmare999 @artistictaurean @kanejandkruge @cdragontogacotar@candiukas @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl@angst-patton@savingshae@noneed4thistbh@awesomelissawho@unikornavenger@bopthesnoz @spiralofsilencetheory@finger-gunsss @crownswriter123 @swlotakulady34

…

“And cut!”

Roman grins brightly at Thomas—who has him shoved up against a brick wall with a prop knife to his throat—and the tension from the dramatic scene they’d just finished is suddenly cut (no pun intended) with one look. Thomas laughs and rolls his eyes, letting Roman shrug out of his grip.

“Good take, guys. Take a break,” the director calls out as she flips through notes.

Thomas hands the prop knife to one of the stage hands and thanks him with a sincere smile before following Roman to the snack table behind the assortment of cameras. The teen picks up a turkey club sandwich from the pile and shoves it unceremoniously into his mouth. Thomas picks up an apple. He doesn’t blame the kid, really; they’d been filming and rehearsing since six this morning without much time for a lunch break.

The constant movement on set is oddly comforting to Thomas. Stage hands hustle to get props and actors, the director is watching footage of the scene he had just filmed with Roman and talks about it in hushed voices with her producers. She casts a glance at Roman, and Thomas smiles. He knows that look. She’s impressed, and to be honest, Thomas is too. Roman is young—still a kid, really—but he’s got serious acting chops. It’s a wonder he didn’t break into the business sooner.

Thomas glances at the teen beside him and smiles faintly at the awed look in his eyes as he watches the action around him. They’re a few weeks into production on this movie, but Roman still looks like he can’t believe he’s actually here.

A few smaller kids for the orphanage scene—maybe five or six—chase each other around the set, shrieking in laughter. A few of the cast members seem vaguely annoyed at the added chaos, but Thomas doesn’t mind. They were quiet, talented, patient kids who knew to only wreak havoc between shots.

“Tag, you’re it!” a little girl shouts as she runs into a boy’s shoulder before sprinting away. The young boy—in his tattered clothes costume but his eyes bright and lively—spins around. His gaze seems to zero in on Roman, and the teen barely has time to react before the boy barrels right into his legs.

“Oof!” Roman says dramatically, doubling over—but not falling over, and Thomas is vaguely impressed by that—and capturing the boy his arms. “Argh, you cannot escape my grasp!”

“You’re it! You’re it! You’re it!” the boy yells, grinning as he tries to wriggle his way free.

“I’m it?” Roman announces, playfully holding onto the kid, “Are you sure about that? I’ll have you know, I’m a three time champion in the art of playing tag.” He’s grinning, something warm and twinkling in his eyes.

“Nuh-uh!” The boy barrels out of Roman’s arms, and the Sanders teen lets him break right out of his grasp.

“You don’t believe me?” he says, throwing the back of his hand to his forehead. “I suppose I’ll have no choice but to prove it to you!” The boy shrieks with laughter as Roman chases after him.

Thomas crosses his arms over his chest and watches his coworker chase the kids around the set. A few people stop and watch the chaos unfold as well, but most people don’t mind too much. They’re between takes anyway, and he’s keeping the kids occupied in the very least. Thomas watches as one of them leaps up onto Roman’s back and feels his heart jump, but Roman only stumbles a step or two before hooking his arms underneath the kid’s legs in a piggy-back ride and running the kid around the set a few times.

“Roman! Thomas!” The director calls out. “We’re gonna need to do that scene again. I want to try some different camera work. Be ready in five.”

Roman looks over at the sound of his name and nods. He lowers the kid on his back to the ground, says something to him that Thomas doesn’t quite catch, and they both exchange a mock salute before Roman jogs back to the table.

“You’re so good with them,” a voice speaks up as Roman returns by the snack table. Thomas looks over his shoulder to see Valerie taking a cracker off the plate.

Roman smiles slightly and lifts a shoulder. “I have three younger brothers.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Valerie says, having seen Logan, Patton, and Virgil a couple of times over the past few weeks. “You’re all so cute. I bet your parents are so proud of you!”

Roman seems suddenly very interested in the cheese cubes on the table by the crackers. He picks one up and pops it in his mouth. “I gotta get back to set,” he says, in a voice that sounds just a little tight to Thomas.

“Oh,” Valerie says to Roman’s retreating form, her voice still bright and friendly, if a bit confused. “Of course! Good luck!”

…

“What do you mean you can’t make it tomorrow?” the producer says, his voice rising. It’s a month or so later. Thomas stops mid-sentence and looks over towards the noise. A young intern with short hair and big glasses seems to shirk away from the volume, and Thomas sighs.

“I mean, I’m sorry, it’s just….” The girl stammers, adjusting the frame of her glasses.

Most people around the set are keeping themselves busy, ignoring the exchange. The producer is known for his temper, after all, and few people paid attention when the interns were getting reamed out. A small number were trying not to stare at the exchange, and a few others appeared to not be listening but—when looked at closer—could be shown to be listening regardless. Across the set, Roman Sanders seems to have fallen into the latter of the group, staring a little too intently at the script in his hands.

“I gave you this break!” the producer shouts at her, his face red. “This is a real job, sweetheart, and you don’t get to just come and go as you please!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas sees Roman snap the script close and toss it onto the table in front of him. There’s something tight in his jaw, squared in his shoulders, something aged in his eyes… Even the producer looks taken aback when he realizes that Roman is walking towards him.

“I think,” Roman says, in a calm and measured voice that Thomas wouldn’t have even been able to hear if it wasn’t dead silent on set, “that she can hear you plenty well when you speak normally, sir.”

The producer blinks in surprise—even Thomas feels a bit taken aback by the new actor’s courage—before spluttering an indignant reply. “This isn’t any of your business, boy.”

“Perhaps not,” Roman replies, his voice still remarkably cool and composed. It stands in stark contrast to the producer’s indignant shouting a moment ago. “But it’s certainly hard to ignore when you’re screaming about it. Perhaps you should take a moment to calm down before discussing the matter further.”

Roman’s words seem to make the producer suddenly and startlingly aware of the people around them. At the sharp stare of the producer, most onlookers duck their heads and busy themselves with rehearsing lines, checking mics, finding their shoes suddenly fascinating. Thomas quietly meets the producer’s gaze with a steady one of his own. He doesn’t know what his expression shows, but Roman is right, and Thomas is fully prepared to come to his defense if the producer tries anything.

The producer grumbles something in a low voice and storms off. Thomas watches as Roman seems to relax back into his usual warm persona. Regular chatter and the sounds Thomas had come to associate with the backstage-between-takes bustle of the movie business filter back up. Roman flashes a smile at the intern, and Thomas reads his lips as he asks, “You okay?”

The young girl nods, smiling faintly back. The girl, by Thomas’s best guess, is probably around sixteen or seventeen, making Roman only a year or so older than her. But there’s a brief moment where Thomas can’t help but feel like Roman looks so much older for his age. A weariness and weight in his eyes, visible even across the room but only for a fraction of a second.

And then the bright, flamboyant, excitable kid is back as he laughs at something she says and responds easily. He shakes her hand, inclines his head, and then walks back to pick up his script and goes right back to rehearsing.

…

“Action!” the director calls a week later.

Thomas slips into character effortlessly, his hands fisting at his sides as he marches up to Roman and grabbing his shoulder. The fight is choreographed flawlessly—the coordinators were impeccable, honestly—and both Thomas and Roman had been working on this exact scene for weeks.

“What the—“ Roman says, delivering his line with just the right amount of surprise, eyes widening and ducking Thomas’s flying fist just in time. Thomas stumbles in just the right way, and Roman throws up his hands as if to protect his face. “Calm down!”

“Calm down?” Thomas snarls. “You nearly got us killed out there!”

Roman shifts his weight as Thomas delivers his line and is ready when the older actor barrels into him, sending him careening back into the ladder on set. It breaks away and collapses on top of him. Roman lets out a frustrated huff before scrambling to his feet.

“That wasn’t me! Would you just—“ he ducks another of Thomas’s punches, throwing an elbow in retaliation.

“Cut!” the director calls out, a slight note of annoyance. Thomas sees confusion and a bit of self-doubt flicker through Roman’s eyes, but Thomas is confused too. It was a good take. Or at least, it had felt good to Thomas.

“Sorry, guys,” the director sighs. “You were great. Our mic levels are off. Can we get a sound check? You guys take a break.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas sees a relieved smile flicker across Roman’s face.

“Nice job,” Thomas tells him sincerely. “That would’ve been a good take if the mics had been working.”

Roman laughs. The two of them make their way over a few yards across the warehouse behind the cameras.

Roman’s three brothers sit near a stack of shipping cargo. Logan—sixteen, Thomas remembers—is sitting with his back against the cargo and a textbook propped open in his lap. Patton is talking quietly but excitedly with Valerie. And Virgil (Thomas still wasn’t sure he entirely believed that he is eight years old, given just how small he is) is sitting beside Logan, so close their arms are brushing. He has some kind of homework worksheet on the cement floor in front of him, but his eyes are glued to something in the textbook in Logan’s lap.

“Hey guys,” Roman greets warmly. “How are we doing over here?”

“Satisfactory,” Logan replies, his eyes lingering on the textbook page before flickering up to meet his older brother’s.

“Good!” Patton chimes in. “Valerie and I were comparing favorite Disney songs. She has good taste.”

Valerie laughs. “Why thank you, Patton. So do you.”

Roman smiles at the exchange. “Good to hear.” With a dramatic groan, Roman takes a seat on the floor beside Virgil. “What about you, Virge? Doing okay?” Thomas notices—not for the first time—how his voice seems a little softer when he asks Virgil.

The youngest brother nods.

Roman arcs an eyebrow. Thomas sees him exchange a glance with Logan over Virgil’s head. Thomas can’t decipher the unspoken conversation they seem to have, but whatever is exchanged seems to relax Roman a bit. The teen leans back a bit into the boxes behind them.

“Hey, Thomas,” Patton says suddenly. “What’s your favorite Disney movie?”

The question surprises the actor. “Favorite Disney movie… hm…” Thomas sucks in a breath through his teeth and rubs the back of his neck. “That’s a hard question. If I have to choose one, I suppose Aladdin.”

Patton nods thoughtfully. “That’s a good choice.”

“It was awesome talking to you, Patton, but I gotta go to makeup. You’ll have to teach me the words to ‘Almost There’ one of these days, though.” She smiles as Patton promises to do so, then hurries off. The five of them lapse into a comfortable silence for a moment before Roman breaks it.

“Thomas and I are about to shoot that scene you guys saw us walk through a few weeks back,” he supplies conversationally.

Thomas’s lips quirk into a smile at the memory. One of the days Roman had brought his brothers along a few weeks back, he and Roman had done a dry run through of the fight scene. Both Patton and Virgil had been about ready to tackle Thomas in defense of their brother—or more accurately, to ensure he didn’t get injured. He and Roman had then proceeded to go through the fight blow by blow in slow motion to show them how the fight wouldn’t actually hurt Roman at all.

“Yep,” Thomas adds. “You guys can watch your brother beat me up today, if you want.”

Roman snorts. “Something like that.”

“Thomas,” one of the actors—Terrence—calls from a few feet away, waving a book of papers, “Is this your script?”

Thomas jogs over and snatches it back, thanking him before heading back over to the brothers.

Logan has turned the page of his textbook—it’s a science textbook, Thomas can see now—and points something out to Virgil who is still looking at it over his older brother’s shoulder. Roman also seems interested in whatever Logan is saying quietly to his brothers. Patton raises his eyebrows, then shifts to sit across from Logan, who tilts his textbook towards his younger brother and points to a picture of a nebulous star.

Logan, who had always seemed to Thomas to be very quiet, is explaining something to his three brothers and Thomas has the odd feeling that if he were to try to listen in, he may be intruding. It wasn’t that the four of them were cold—to the contrary, they were some of the warmest and kindest kids Thomas had ever met—but they had a certain close-knit aura around them that Thomas felt was different than other families. Certainly different from his own.

“Hey! Thomas! Roman!” one of the cast-mates calls, jogging over. Logan stops talking, glancing up at the new face. “Are you guys coming to Marco’s after filming wraps today?”

Thomas thinks about it, but Roman’s response comes immediately. “Sorry, Alex. I can’t.” The answer hardly surprises Thomas—he’s not sure he’s ever heard the teen accept an invitation to do something after filming.

“I’ll think about it,” Thomas replies.

Alex opens his mouth to say something, looking vaguely disappointed, but the director’s voice cuts through the air.

“Thomas! Roman! You guys are back on. Same scene from the top. Sorry for the delay.”

…

Months pass, and Thomas can’t help but see the patterns.

Roman having this way of quickly shutting people down who yell during an argument, the way he never accepts invitations to do things after filming, how quickly he deflects any mention of his parents being proud of him… at first, Thomas had written the latter off as humility, but there was always something forced behind the smile and indifference that didn’t quite sit well in the older actor’s stomach. There was also something about the way Roman and his brothers interacted with one another that Thomas didn’t quite understand—quiet, tight-knit, and protective.

Thomas doesn’t really know what it all means. Or even if it means anything. He could be reading into things more than they really warranted. Right?

Right.

Thomas pops a grape into his mouth and wanders over to stand beside Roman, watching the scene being filmed from behind the camera. He and Roman just wrapped on a scene and were scheduled to be next anyway, so both of them had elected to linger around and watch the next scene get shot.

It’s one the of the flashback scenes for Thomas’s character, evidenced by the set being the kitchen of a home rather than a warzone. The actor playing younger Thomas—around ten years old—does bear a striking resemblance to 26 year-old. The only other person in the scene is the actress playing the mother.

“Don’t you ever stop talking?!” the mother demands, the fury looking real and tangible in her eyes. Thomas has to admit—the actress playing the mother was exceptional at her job. Thomas had filmed another movie with her before, and she was a really sweet lady in real life.

The kid, also, is quite good. “I’m sorry, I just… I wanted…” he stammers, stumbling back.

Before Thomas can even blink, the mother hits her son across the face with the back of her hand. Beside him, Thomas sees Roman visibly flinch. When he glances at him out of the corner of his eye, he notices Roman is looking very pointedly at his shoes.

“What did I just say, kid?” the mother growls. “God, you never shut the fuck up!”

Roman seems to be standing suddenly very still. Concerned, Thomas looks at him more fully, but Roman won’t meet his gaze. His arms are crossed over his chest, and there’s something about the way his shoulders are hunched ever so slightly that makes Thomas suddenly and acutely aware that this kid beside him is a kid. And somehow, he looks and acts much older than that.

Something clicks. His brothers and their relationship with one another, the way Roman always deflected questions and comments about his parents, the way he didn’t tolerate yelling and never went out after filming, the way he flinched just now…

Thomas doesn’t have the full picture, but it’s all in a hazy focus that is just enough. Whatever Roman is dealing with, Thomas can’t help but feel like it’s something much bigger and much worse than any kid his age should have to handle. It’s not something someone his age should have to shoulder.

At least not alone.

“Cut!” The director yells a moment later. “Great take. I wanna run that one more time, then we’ll move on. Take a break, though.”

It’s, apparently, all the encouragement Roman needs. Because the young actor turns without saying a word to Thomas and walks off the set. Thomas follows after him.

…

Thomas hesitates for a moment outside Roman’s trailer, his breath making small clouds in front of his face in the brisk late autumn air. He remembers the look of pure disbelief, quickly overshadowed by excitement, when Roman had learned he’d be getting his own trailer for the movie. Thomas hadn’t even thought much about it—Roman had a number of costume changes, plus a not in-substantial role that necessitated long days of filming—but seeing Roman’s vaguely awed look had reminded him of himself when he’d gotten his first big role in a movie. He’d been just a little older than Roman at the time.

Thomas knocks softly on the door. “Roman?”

There’s a brief pause, then a hurried and slightly muffled, “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I’ll be right there.”

“We have a while,” Thomas replies, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “But I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”

Another pause, then the door swings open. Roman looks more composed than he had just a moment ago, his face now one of confusion and perhaps a bit of nervousness. “Of course. What’s up?” He shifts to the side, giving Thomas room as he steps up into the trailer.

The trailer is messy and generic; very little of Roman expressed in the small space. There’s a blanket on the couch that was provided when the temperature had started to drop. Some discarded shoes on the floor. Roman’s normal clothes tossed over a plastic chair in the corner. Roman shifts past him and rubs the back of his head before taking a seat on the far end of the couch.

“Roman…” Thomas begins, feeling suddenly unsure of where to start but knowing that he has to say something. He looks at the teen sitting in front of him and sighs. “Are you okay?”

Roman throws him a brilliant smile. “Of course, Thomas. Just, uh…” The smile falters for only a fraction of a second, then stays in place. He lifts a shoulder. “Y’know.”

Thomas gives him a soft, knowing look. “I don’t, actually. Not really.” He takes a seat on the couch beside him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “And that’s okay. I don’t want you to tell me anything you don’t want to, or aren’t ready for. But…” Thomas holds Roman’s wide stare. “But I’ve got your back. And I’ve got your brothers’ backs.”

Roman is shaking his head, words tumbling out of his mouth even as his eyes start to shine. “Thomas—“ Roman says, and Thomas pretends he doesn’t hear the way his voice cracks just a little.

“I mean it,” Thomas says, with as much sincerity and earnestness as he can because he needs Roman to know it and believe it. “Any of you need anything—anything at all—you have my number. I’ll be there. That’s a promise.”

Roman opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it. He scrubs a hand across his eyes and sniffles. “Okay,” he says, in a soft, choked voice. He coughs to clear it. “I… thank you.”

Thomas gives him a small smile. “Any time. I mean that.”

Roman releases a watery laugh. “Yeah, I know you do.”

Thomas thinks of Roman’s bright energy and aged eyes. Of the quiet way Logan always seems to have words pressing against his lips but for some reason, holds them back more than he speaks. Or the way Patton’s warm smile and sincere curiosity makes every person feel seen, even though Patton is so much younger. Or how Virgil looks at his brothers like he’d move mountains just for them.

“Good,” Thomas replies softly. “Because you guys are a good group of kids.”

…

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders bro au #familial lamp/calm #familial lamp/calm fanfiction #tw angst #tw abuse #tw physical abuse #tw parental abuse #tw cursing #tw yelling #i literally dont know how i feel about this fic but i wanted to post it anyway #because i worked on it for a while y'know #meep #maybe one day it won't be intimidating to post fic but that day is not today #hope its enjoyable!#and please go check out isa's au #also sorry mobile users #its kinda longish

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unimpressedperson · 5 years

Text

Jackpot | pt. 3 [FINAL]

(Found this picture in @youthstuffs , thank you for posting it)

Genre: Fluff and Crack, I guess…

Warnings: None

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x @taesbetch , Kim Namjoon x Reader

Word Counting: 8.5k

Synopsis: Nya spent her whole life in Las Vegas, she would never imagine that local knowledge would ever be useful. However, her vision changed when Kim Seokjin appeared and introduced her to a few friends, film producers, whose needed guidance through Las Vegas underrated places for a movie. She agreed in working for them, and in that moment none of their lives would ever be the same. What happens in Vegas, not always has to be kept in Vegas.

A/N: Heeeeeeeey Nya!! Finally the last chapter! The oneshot has originally 20.958 words, so I decided to split it in three chapters. It’s the final one. The closure of this rhapsody (am I cocky, lol?), yeah. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing, ‘cuz it was fun talking about RPDR, movies, Vhope, Jeon Seagull, Namjoon, you, Dragon! Yoongi au spitting fiiire oooh, Star Trek references, etc :) Forgive any grammar mistakes.

- x - x - x - x -

Yoongi knew it. He fucking knew it in the moment Namjoon began contending about some girl willing to guide them through Las Vegas. He saw back in then that something would rotten up during the process. Nothing could ever go soft and swift, every damn time, Kim Namjoon would come up with some drama, or Hoseok and Taehyung would fight, or the pipes from their filming location would BUST IN GEYSERS FROM EVERY WALL AND FLOOR.

He could gain money by showing off his auguring powers. At least from some dumb folk like Namjoon.

They worked together for 10 years. A decade living through ups and downs, but what kept their Cinematography Company moving and succeeding was the timing. Namjoon directs a successful movie, then gets involved with someone, breaks up and directs a shitty movie. It was a cycle in which Yoongi never complained and watched happening time after time. In 10 years, Kim Namjoon proved to be a genius and that he acknowledge the romantic vicious cycle, never defying it by getting involved with someone after almost breaking their business.

In situations of risk like these, Yoongi takes over his Spock role and always gives good advices to Captain Namjoon. It was his Vulcan power, after all. The Enterprise never bankrupted precisely because everytime one of the bosses made a bold move or a bad decision, someone would soothe it with a better idea or stopping before happening.

This time, though, Namjoon was being a stubborn bitch. Yoongi considered the idea of poisoning him and keeping the whole company under his name and charge.

Oh, he really pondered and even searched for undetectable poisons, but their 10 years story spoke louder than the homicidal side of Min Yoongi.

Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi met whilst working. They were producing the songs from a soundtrack, after so many nights of writing and playing instruments, sometimes all by themselves, their similarities brought them closer. A beautiful and honest friendship blossomed, nurtured with honest, curses, talent, humor, sarcasm and a lot of partnership.

Eventually, their dreams became way too big and only working for a company wasn't satisfying them. With their savings combined, Namjoon and Yoongi registered a firm called “Enterprise Inc.”. They had the name and ideas, but only when Taehyung and Hoseok appeared that their machine began working.

Independent movies were becoming a trend, so their company grew and more people got hired to different task. Jimin, Jungkook, Emerson, Jade, Taylor, Shmaillah, Zariah and Robin were now part of their big family. They treated each other like relatives.

However, since not everything happened smoothly, Namjoon also had his flaws. Unfortunately, his passion and volatility affected financially their business and finances. Kim Namjoon loved loving, but his kind of love changes fast and finishing a relationship always turned him into a grumpy man.

His longest relationship lasted 1 year and a half, with an author and professor of Creative Writing at London Institute of Art, Barbara. Unfortunately, their break up made Namjoon extra unbearable, to a point where the actors hired would quit and the filming had to be stopped. His mood swings almost led Enterprise to declare bankrupt.

Of course Yoongi dated, actually he's been officially living with Emerson for over five months, but his personal life never affected the professional. Home feuds stayed at home, even because his girlfriend worked as head from the Enterprise's Marketing and Advertising department.

After discussing, they slept for four hours. Yoongi always valued his sleep and would rest whenever (and wherever) possible, but their argue made the atmosphere inside the room unbearable. Namjoon couldn't sleep as well, he knew Min was right, but and if he allowed himself getting closer to Nya, then doubtlessly at some point would end up falling for her. Namjoon was an assumed romantic mushy, but with a volatile heart.

They went to the buffet, dragging a sleepy Jungkook and an awaken Hoseok jogging, dancing, humming and texting his boyfriend, also animated and sending copious audios thrilled with the last night events. Even though it was already noon, people having breakfast could be seen all around.

— I can see a whole bunch of people with last night’s makeup smudged. Walk of shame, guys. - Jungkook murmured after drinking a whole mug of coffee.

— You walked in the hotel with someone else’s skirt, smudged makeup and cummed pants in a brown paper bag. Walk of shame, bro. - Yoongi grinned and stared at Jungkook.

— Last night was nuts, wasn’t it? - The younger one asked, sipping from his second mug. - We started in a bar and end up in a Ball. What the fuck, I love my life.

— Yeah. Crazy night. - Namjoon disassembled himself from the conversation with a sweep of hand.

Jungkook could feel the tension around. Namjoon and Yoongi were clearly pissed at each other, and it was palpable around. The air was borderline toxic with so much electricity. However, Jeon could rightfully guess why. In his time working for Enterprise Inc., that same negative energy surrounded them plenty of times before. Currently, everyone knew their financial situation, since two actors decided to leave the project in order to get away from Namjoon and his bad temper, and one actress who broke contract after being casted to a bigger production.

Min Yoongi and Kim Namjoon were great egos and minds. Working together represented war and success. They bickered, yet found ways to reconcile and respect each other’s differences, at least during toil days of finishing every detail, since both were also meticulous with lighting, angles, planning thoroughly even colours and shades. In fact, Jungkook graduated in cinema, but most of his practical knowledge was obtained by watching his bosses.

For a matter of fact, Jungkook could have chosen to remain in Korea and work with K-Dramas, movies or even MVs. Their cinematography industry was in constant growth, Jeon would never actually be unemployed, mainly with his fame as an idol. Even though his payment wasn’t the highest one, residing in London wasn’t impossible or uncomfortable, he could be classified as a wealthy lad, since the fame acquired during his boygroup years still paid him for image copyright licensing.

Jungkook was so famous in Korea, that every film produced by Enterprise Inc. sold like water on desert. Their film grossing came 6% from Seoul only. His stardom reached such a level that Jeon Seagull was mentioned beside great names like BIGBANG and Super Junior.

When Jungkook became 25 years old, his biggest fan club in England during a whole month sent 25 roses to the Enterprise Inc. building daily.

Although, even with fame and constant proofs of how influential he still was, Jungkook felt good by being treated like a younger brother. No one gave him a special treatment or rolled out a red carpet whenever he walked around. Once, after having a small party at Yoongi’s place, he vented with his hyungs about fame and all, Min Yoongi stared at him blankly and said placid:

— I couldn’t care less about your idol life and shit. For me, you are Jeon Jungkook and works with film editing, you can even sing whilst doing your job, but it will never earn you a golden star.

It worried him watching his hyungs and main inspirations brawling, probably over Namjoon’s love interest in Nya and how it would affect his work. Also, Jungkook knew about money problems and thought about offering some cash to help and stabilize their finances, however everyone knew Yoongi would rather sell a kidney before accepting any loan.

— NOO!! - Hoseok yelled and punched the table, cell phone still on his other hand and eyes furiously staring at the screen. That unexpected behavior startled everyone.

— What happened? Did someone die? - Namjoon questioned, genuinely worried.

— No! But someone is about to! Taehyung finished watching The Umbrella Academy without me! I'm going to kill my boyfriend! - Hoseok declared and began typing furiously.

- x - x - x - x -

Nya felt an apprehension in the air, like something was off. Namjoon and Yoongi barely looked at each other, definitely not a subtle change from their past behavior. It could be only a hangover, or not. Well, she wasn’t in such position to question them.

Whilst Namjoon and Yoongi were silent, Hoseok and Jungkook were jamming to whatever played on the radio, creating choreographies out of blue and pulling the grumpy men. Maybe in a common day things were like that, very balanced: two neutrons and two protons.

Their last demand was going to thrift shops, and places selling wigs. Their desire was an order, so Nya chose “Opportunity Village Thrift Store” and Honey’s favourite place to buy wigs.

The ride to Opportunity Village seemed to last forever. Namjoon wanted to talk and have fun along with Nya, Hoseok and Jungkook, but Yoongi could consider it flirting and throw a homeric tantrum. Oh, he would die out of embarrassment.

Arriving was a relief. Yoongi stretched his legs and stared at Jeon. Before leaving the hotel, they decided that having Yoongi always sitting on Hoseok’s lap wasn’t fair, so using their best tool of democracy (a.k.a rock, scissor, paper) the last ones would play to decide who would flump and who would be flumped. In conclusion, maintaining a Jungkook steady during a car ride isn’t comfortable.

Opportunity Village Thrift Store looked huge. Garment tracks, clothing rails, huge baskets and hampers with colourful fabrics and shoes. It felt like a paradise and a warzone. Namjoon seriously considered the idea of diving in one of them, only to test how it feels like, but kept a composed behavior.

Nya got in and pulled a huge pink coat from one of the baskets, throwing it in Yoongi’s direction, whose first reflex was to deviate, watching the fabric becoming a puddle on his feet. He picked it up and dressed. Understanding it as an ice-breaker, everyone else decided to have their fun exploring what the store had to offer.

— I’m gonna pop some tags. Only got 20 dollars in my pocket. - Hoseok began singing happily, getting out from the fitting room with a huge ass fur coat covering down his knees, pink glasses and platform shoes.

Jungkook was with his body halfway in one of the baskets, but after listening the fitting room’s door opening, he stood up using a baseball cap, a t-shirt made of black tulle with Xs covering the nipples. Hoseok never behaved discreetly, but seeing him all dressed up and singing Macklemore, it made Jeon cackle and sit on the ground.

— You look like an asian version of Elton John on a budget! - Jungkook managed to utter between guffaws.

Before Jungkook died out of laughter, Namjoon showed up with a brown ushanka covering his lilac hair, white jacket with voluptuous shoulder pads and a brown clutch. Jung was about to pronounce something, when Kim opened a huge and glittery fan that was hidden inside the jacket’s pocket.

— You look like a cheap version of Adam Lambert, Jeon. - Namjoon sounded serious, but a quirk dimpley smile took over his features.

Everyone laughed and looked around for Nya, since Yoongi was anything but undercover with his bright pink coat, sitting on one wooden bench close to the fitting rooms, he typed something on the cellphone, a deadly serious face, not even paying attention to all foolery.

The woman emerged from the third and last fitting room. She was using a dress made of golden sequins, her cleavage in evidence and left leg standing out of a opening. Namjoon, Jungkook and Hoseok shut up and stared at her in awe.

— Can someone please make a joke so I will feel less embarrassed? - She muttered, cheeks getting warmer and redder with their eyes laying on her stunning figure.

— Nya, Big Bird from Sesame Street called. - Yoongi pronounced without looking at her, still typing and unfazed. - He wants his drag queen dress back.

They got back to laugh until tears were streaming down their faces, even Yoongi giggled a little. Everyone went back inside a fitting room, dressing back their own clothes and going out, looking for more funny outfits.

…

Namjoon and Nya would never understand or feel able to explain how, but somewhere between laughing at a pair of ugly ass shoes and grabbing more stuff to try on, they found themselves making out inside one fitting room. Sitting on the ground, her legs straddling him and his hands cupping her ass, their mouths connected and only separated looking for air (or taking turns in kissing necks), lips moving in sync and desperately grinding against each other.

After a few minutes swirling tongues and trading saliva, they stopped gasping for air, foreheads touching and now fingers intertwined, laying on Namjoon’s lap. Nya smiled and gave him a quick peck, without saying a word. They agreed in making out without pronouncing syllables, got there and began smooching, not a single sound needed.

Namjoon moved his hands and posed them on her waist, smiling whilst staring and decorating every feature from Nya’s attractive face. The dimples, oh those dimples, she held his face and began kissing those goddamn cute details. Namjoon moved his face a bit, getting back to peck her lips passionately.

— I don’t want to leave this fitting room ever again. - Namjoon whispered watching Nya hop off his lap and sit beside him, laying her head on his shoulder, a long arm enveloping around hers.

— If we are going to do something else, then we gotta leave. - Nya murmured and caressed his clothed knee, making small heart shapes there.

— I like the way you think. - His free hand lifted her chin leaning a little to kiss there again.

Before they could even think about continuing the make out session, a loud knock on the door was heard, startling them. Namjoon froze on his spot when a deep voice was heard, most specifically Yoongi’s voice.

— Kim Namjoon, why is Nya inside a fucking stall with you? - He sounded pissed off and it scared even the woman.

— W-who told something about Nya being here? - Namjoon questioned, trying to keep his cool.

— Who told me? A blue bird appeared to tell me. - His sarcasm sharp and killer like a knife, as always. - I COULD HEAR SOMEONE WHIMPERING FROM THE FRONT DOOR! AND IT WAS YOUR WHIMPERINGS!

Looking around, Namjoon tried to find another exit other than the door, in vain of course. Nya noticed Yoongi’s frown when he saw they kissing the day before, but would never imagine how against making out with her. By the way, why did Min even cared about it? Well, she didn’t understand, but Kim’s reaction surprised her: Glancing around desperately, fidgeting and anxious.

Did Yoongi carry a gun with him after all?

— Namjoon, you know I wouldn’t care about your romantic life, if you were capable of dicking down someone without falling in love and ruining our business! - Yoongi scolded profusely, words spitted like fire. The small man had flames inside his belly, always keen to burn whoever dared to cross his path and stumble. When their partnership became real and moneymaking, Namjoon’s creativity and intellect lost ground to Yoongi’s audacity, geniality and incredible honesty. Everyone in a meeting could witness how Min grows talking about money, market and tactics on getting attention, the same way Kim shrinks. 148 IQ points, tall and intimidating, but the business head looked like a human Hamtaro.

Indeed, Namjoon felt rickety closer to Yoongi. Who wouldn’t? Although their partnership equally shared in 50% of profit between them, who always controlled their accounts and hired people was Yoongi. Kim Namjoon was creative and smart, but Min Yoongi was ferocious, visionary, not afraid of facing bigger companies and calling attention to their work. Success depends on many more aspects than a well produced movie, knowing how to speak with business man, sell their product and spread their name. The universe knows Enterprise Inc., Mr. Spock always the mind, Captain Kirk their face and voice.

Namjoon wholeheartedly respected Yoongi, which was a mutual feeling.

It’s not like Yoongi was perfect and never made mistakes during their ten years career, running a filming company and producing polemical content.

Seven years ago, Min Yoongi dived from head to toe in a project about korean idols selling girls around the world, promoting prostitution and drug dealing. The movie was a mixture of documentary and fiction. Purposely or not, apparently the villain portrayed resembled a lot a certain manager from some big entertainment company and they were sued. Back in then, drowning in debts, Namjoon sat down and studied similar cases, learning with someone else’s past equivocation, he based their marketing on that judicial situation.

In the same way his sharp tongue and bold behavior made them big, Yoongi also caused a lot of trouble by saying something offensive. Once, Min Yoongi argued with a group of australian entrepreneurs, owners from a huge farm with mines around, a collaboration organised with Seokjin’s help was being discussed. Maybe joking about their political bias wasn’t the best choice of icebreaker, ‘cuz when they found themselves, Mr.Smith was red in anger and punching the table stopping himself from whacking Yoongi’s face.

However, Yoongi was right, Namjoon falls in love way too easily. Perhaps it was loneliness, or his massive levels of empathy. Fearing the loss of his company, Min Yoongi felt the grip and patience held along their trip fly away in the moment Jungkook and Hoseok appeared, but Kim and Nya were nowhere to be seen. Whimperings inside one stall, it was the last straw.

Nya and Namjoon got out the fitting room, red as beets. Yoongi had a hand covering his face, pissed off and trying to control his voice volume, not wanting to cause a stir.

— Why do you care? What happened of so serious? - Nya raised one eyebrow, still confused about Yoongi’s reaction about them making out. He would be sane to complain about public display of affection, but not the whole idea of someone kissing another human being.

— Namjoon is a workaholic, but also has a huge problem with loneliness. - Yoongi slid the hand down his face and stared at her, dead opaque eyes. - Every single time he gets attached to someone and breaks up, who deals with his tantrums and childish behavior, grumpy face and irascible humour, believe me, wouldn’t be you, it would be me, our hired actors, and of course our ring of friends. He gets unbearable.

— But we are not dating or in love, if anything ever happened, it wouldn’t leave Vegas. You are overreacting. - She was clearly embarrassed with the whole situation, when did she expressed any feeling of passion? Nya flirted with Namjoon and mentioned sex, but never said anything about dating, falling in love, or whatever.

— Yoongi, you are being irrational. I’m not in love, we are just young, horny and getting along. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. - Namjoon backed up Nya, pissing the hell off of Min, who took a long and deep breathe.

— Exactly! What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, but you know who else will be staying in Vegas? Us. We’re coming back in a month and if you dick her down now, you will probably want to get another dose after. I want you fully focused on working in ‘Fierce’, not splitting your thoughts between tortuous falling in love and doing your job properly. - The shorter man spat, again fire coming off his mouth.

— I’m focused! I’m having fun, but also analyzing every place we’ve been to!

— Oh, you are focused, right? Focused like a fucking cannon under a drunk man’s watch! - Min Yoongi snapped, if he ever worried about not causing a stir, then it disappeared like Namjoon’s rationality. - Do you know what I was doing whilst everyone tried on clothes? I was trying to resolve some of our location renting problems and checking how the filming for our other projects are going. - He got closer to Kim, poking one of his long fingers against the taller one chest. - By the way, did you make any contact with Enterprise every since we landed in Vegas? Did you check your phone? Did you worry about anything other than inserting your dick in somewhere or someone?

— No, but… - Namjoon suddenly felt small and shrinking more and more.

— That’s what I thought! Your whole focused ass is whipped and willing to lose everything we fought for, all for one night stand with some random one!

— Shut up! - Nya yelled, flustered and vexed, stepping closer to Yoongi. - Don’t you dare referring to me as if I’m not here. Don’t you ever treat me like someone random, trivial. I’m not a random someone, I’m the one guiding you around Las Vegas for free. It may not be something as big as filming a movie, but it’s also helpful. - She poked Yoongi’s chest, he gave one step back, their discussion drawing attention from people looking around, Hoseok and Jungkook showed up. - Your posh ass can be rich, or the owner from a company, but don’t you dare talking about me like a brainless person, someone incapable of fucking with someone without growing fond of that person! Your friend can be sappy and weak minded, but I am not. You don’t know me, Min Yoongi.

— We better leave before anything else is said, right Joon? - Jungkook asked, pulling Yoongi by one arm in the door’s direction.

— Yes, please, I don’t think I can keep on guiding you guys, I would say I’m sorry, but it is not true at all. - Nya seemed gloomy, but also frustrated. They were discussing sexism and pre-concepts in a movie, but Yoongi’s opinion about her seemed far from awaken. Maybe it was more about Namjoon and his past relationships, but why couldn’t Min consider her vision? A relationship necessarily has to have two sides, and both agreeing with their terms. Even if Kim fell in love, nothing would ever happen again if Nya did not fancy it.

Women do have voices and their standpoint should be taken seriously.

Maybe Yoongi wanted to protect both parts from heartbreak or unhealthy obsession, but what a problematic way of showing his worries. Why couldn’t he just ask for Nya’s opinion? It’s not fair or right.

Nya watched them leaving, Yoongi frowning and Namjoon in shock, both being dragged down by Hoseok and Jungkook. Everyone inside the thrift shop staring at them, dividing their glances between Nya and the group.

- x - x - x - x -

Whilst packing their bags again, Yoongi checked his pocket list of goals for the travel. He concluded that everything needed was basically sorted, places chosen and their owners actually liked them, which would make it easier to bargain better renting prices. Their casting situation and debt with Nya could be solved within days and a few phone calls, since while Namjoon was flirting, Jungkook and Hoseok were doing some bullshitery, Min gave his cellphone number to a no number of people.

Staring at Namjoon and his gloomy eyes felt heartbreaking, but Yoongi knew that it was the right thing to be done. Kim needed to keep his head on the game. They only had one chance, and oh boy, Min Yoongi would hold it with claws and teeth.

Nya was a bewildering creature and, after filming everything, Yoongi would totally invite her to their premiere, however in order to actually having a Premiere, they first had to rent places, cast people, transport their shit, direct, film, edit, and first of all, not declare bankruptcy. Namjoon should’ve know better, acting like a horny teenager would be the death of them.

The lilac-haired man wished things could be different, but Yoongi was correct and sane: Kim Namjoon would never know how to balance a relationship with work, at least not without slipping at some point and getting hurt.

Namjoon was aware of his workaholic condition. All of his relationships got to dramatic endings after spending hours in a row inside his office, studio or even at home, but with a notebook almost morphing into his lap. Every single one of his past girlfriends were very understanding, and accepted that working represented over 80% of his life, routine and thoughts, but being pushed into the background felt tiring. Namjoon hurted himself so many times with that and promised to change, which never happened.

Let’s face it, his fate had nothing to do with a successful love life.

Truth be told, but never convinced. Namjoon thanked mentally Yoongi, he saved Nya from a very frustrating life beside him.

Hoseok and Jungkook didn’t dare to say a word from hotel to airport. No one felt the need. Silence seemed adequate and anything else would only trigger into bickerings. There was no energy or disposition to raise voices and argue.

Silence and rain, those words defined their travel back to England.

- x - x - x - x -

— Zariah finished the filming of “Beast”. She sent the files to Jimin and Jungkook, but I think they will need my help, since Jeon is stuck with all those sequential cuts Yoongi made during “Je M’appelle Carinè”, and Park is simultaneously working on the sound effects for our first animated short-film “Poundcake”, and in… Oh Jimin is recording the soundtrack to “Fierce”? I’m proud of him. - Taylor, a short, chubby young lady, with short brown hair and sparkling eyes, was standing in front of Namjoon’s office table, staring at her iPad and checking every information, whilst he stared blankly outside the window. - Should I keep on working as your secretary? Or can I help Kook and Chim Chim on editing “Beast”?

— What? What did you just say? - Namjoon looked at her, blinking fast and slowly getting back to reality. - Sorry, Tay. I lost myself in my mind again. It’s been happening more often than I would like to assume.

— That’s alright. - She pulled a chair and sat in front of him, placing the iPad on her lap. - What’s bugging you, Joon?

Namjoon gazed again outside, eyes oscillating between shining and getting opaque again. Where should he even begin with? His mind was hopping from thought to thought, concern to concern, and somehow, even filled with preoccupations, Nya always danced between daydreams and awaken nightmares. Despite trying his best to forget and move on, the lady with a contagious smile, beautiful eyes and the smoothest skin ever seen found her way back to divagations.

Enterprise Inc. wasn’t placed in a huge building, actually, they placed had to place a billboard outside to indicate where the firm resided. An ancient building about to be demolished, that’s why Namjoon and Yoongi could bid a whole four floor building for such a bargain. With its structure, the duo fixed some details and reformed every flat, turning into different studios. Every deck had a specific department: first video editing and animation (recently inaugurated by Taehyung and Hoseok after finishing their online animating course), second reserved to audio (both recording and editing, Yoongi built his office there) and characterization accessories, third filming studios, last everything related to managing (marketing, advertisement, Human Resources, Management, and of course, Namjoon’s office). No one would ever imagine how proud Kim and Min were of their achievements, every award and nomination resulted in motivation. They were succeeding, from the bottom and going higher.

Imagining himself waking up and heading to somewhere else, other than the building made of red bricks and black doors, that thought scared the shit out of Namjoon. He would never cooperate or live happily after declaring bankrupt and having to shut down his business, at least not after conquering so many prizes, awards, incredible movies under his name. No, closing doors would never be an option.

— Taylor, I know everyone is aware of how ramshackle is our financial situation. Those projects, “Beast”, “Je M’Appelle Carinè”, “Poundcake” and “Fierce”, are our last string of hope. That’s why we are rushing to finish and release them. - Taylor nodded, in fact, everytime Namjoon and Yoongi argued behind closed doors, rumours around the office were spread. - Specially “Fierce”, we are investing every dime left in that. It’s probably our most expensive and laborious movie, but we count on it to keep us working for a few more months. Two weeks ago me, Yoongi, Hoseok and Jungkook went to Las Vegas and rented places to film, but something happened there.”

“See, our guide, Nya, is the most dazzling creature alive. Not a single soul ever made me feel so impressed in my whole life, yet I can’t get attached to her. Not before finishing the filmings for “Fierce”, it would make me lose focus and possibly fuck everything up. It’s not my intention, but I can’t get her out of my head. Whenever I stop and think, she is there, dancing through my worries and thoughts.”

— Joon, why can’t you talk to her? - Taylor pushed her glasses down the nose bridge and raised one eyebrow. - It seems like by avoiding Nya, you are focusing in nothing else but her. Maybe this time your romantic curse was casted differently. You are not dating her, perhaps the vicious cycle is broken. Also, being unable to think about anything else won’t help you directing.

— I don’t know… - Namjoon pouted and laid his head against the wooden table, leaning the forehead there.

— When the filming to “Fierce” will begin?

— In two weeks. - Namjoon mumbled without raising his head, but now facing his brown walls. - We casted some american actors and actresses, our luggage is being packed, Yoongi made deals with every place to film, rented a house for the crew and us.

— You have two weeks to decide whether you want to invest in something with Nya, or not. It’s up to you. - Taylor made a flourishing movement with one of her hands, whilst standing up and staring again at the iPad. - Now about the “Beast” video editing...

— Go help Jimin and Jungkook. - Namjoon dismissed her and got back to his thoughts.

- x - x - x - x -

— Namjoon, you know I hate to accept when I’m wrong, huh? - Yoongi had an U shaped pillow around his neck, resting peacefully on a comfortable seat, whilst Kim typed on the notebook, adding some reminders on the script to himself. - But I think you should call Nya and ask her out.

— What? Why? - Namjoon turned his head and stared at Yoongi's unfazed face.

— You never had to take notes on scripts in order to work right. You are way a fucking genius, with 148 IQ points, had written masterpieces and composed glorious songs. - Min said without looking at his friend, but placing a hand on his knee. - In the past month you barely talked during reunions, you've been unfocused and divagating, also I spoke to Emerson, and she mentioned a certain talk you had with Taylor. Man, you need Nya and it's insane. You spent less than 24 hours by her side and now living without talking to her seems like a punishment. I don't understand how and why, but if contacting her during our permanence in Vegas will cheer you up, then I'm 100% supporting you. We need our leader, our main director.

Namjoon got back to typing without delivering a single sentence, Min’s hand still on his knee. Suddenly the space between their seats felt tinier, they were way too close and He needed to absorb Yoongi’s new position on Nya’s awe. Indeed, having his approval on looking for her was amazing, but how? During their trip to Las Vegas Min Yoongi said harsh things, leaving right after. Upon weeks of silence, even having Nya’s phone number saved, Namjoon never made effort to apologize, keep in touch or whatever. He respected Yoongi’s opinion, but his spitted phrases and dark tone made both parts highly uncomfortable.

He wanted and decided that looking for Nya was part of his plans whilst filming in Las Vegas, but embarrassment spoke louder and clearer. Namjoon wanted, but had no balls to accomplish it. At least not after remaining mute whilst Yoongi spat mean words at her, he could’ve defended their situation, stand up and put Min on his place. Well, what happened was far from ideal.

All Namjoon could think about, even before hearing Yoongi’s concerned and caring words about his mental state, was Nya, and what were the chances of her accepting to go on a date with him. Namjoon despised the idea of Nya evicting him.

Unlike Yoongi thought, Namjoon wasn’t in love before. It took him an array of nights stalking Nya’s Facebook page, checking her Instagram and reading how passionate her friends seemed to feel. Now, he felt obsessed and slightly uncomfortable with the idea of being dumped.

Nonetheless, Namjoon decided to pull himself together, grow a pair of balls and try. ‘No’ is a possibility, risking won’t harm.

Trying to gather some courage, the lilac haired man opened a new Word file and named “Captain’s Log”, getting in full Star Trek mode, he was Captain Kirk afterall.

“Captain’s log. Stardate -303753.640. We are arriving in the dusty and hot atmosphere of Las Vegas, a city located in the middle of Nevada, a state from United States of America, North America, one of the seven continents from planet Earth. My Vulcan friend, Mr.Yoongi, possessor of a great logical intellect is encouraging me to look for a human partner in our new location, specifically someone already acknowledged by Enterprise as homo sapien sapien, formed by carbon and XX chromosomes, turning it into a fascinating woman named Nya by her genitors. After our last expedition through Las Vegas, the relationship development between Enterprise’s Captain, yours truly, and terrestrial local resident Nya were harmed by Mr.Yoongi’s behavior towards her. Nevertheless, I’m willing to change our perspectives and get another chance.”

- x - x - x - x -

Saturday. A boring afternoon ghosting over Nya’s body, sitting on her couch along with Alexa. They were watching something about wildlife in Taiwan forests on National Geographics, a bowl with caramel popcorn between them and cups of mint tea. The curly-haired woman stared around her living room, noticing how the yellowish painting was peeling and slowly showing stripes of the white paint under it. Basically, her walls looked like an albino zebra. The purple sofa comfortable and everything else seemed pretty fitting, not needing to be replaced or moved. Oh, she was proud about her good taste in decoration.

Boredom hit Alexa like a truck and a deep grunt left her throat, almost scratching its way out. She grabbed the remote control and began zapping through channels, looking for something more interesting than animals mating or bullying each other.

— We should go out. You look like a mushy potato in that set of sweats. Is it yellow because you’ve been copiously using that for the past four weekends, or is it the original colour? - Alexa snorted, trying to combat boredom with jokes. - Honestly Nya, what the fuck happened? You explained something about Korean entrepreneurs, but as far as I know you’re not eager in investing on stock market, so I don’t know why their business would affect you. Did you get involved with one of them?

— No shit, Sherlock. - Nya mumbled and took a sip from her tea, trying to gather some words without sounding grumpy. - I have nothing to do with their business, but see, they hired me to guide them through Las Vegas. I’ve done that once before for one of their friends, the Seokjin guy I told you. Remember?

— Seokjin? The cocky and rich film producer? I remember him, he was funny and immensely confident, literally, I’ve never seen someone so sure about his looks. - Alexa kept her glance on the television. - Big dick energy at its finest.

— Yeah, him. - Nya avoided talking about Namjoon and cia, but now, completely alone with her best friend, it seemed like a good moment to vent. - One of the film producers I accepted to guide, he was funny, interesting, smart and a very good kisser, although, apparently someone deeply confusing. Like, I felt interest on him, but never said shit about being in love, unlikely what Yoongi understood and took as the gospel truth, his friend could cherish me with a thousand roses, but I would never date him and then break up, even because it takes more than 24 hours wandering around sin city and a good fuck for me to enamor someone.

“I don’t know how are the girls they know and usually go out with, but I’m not innocent. We don’t live in a book from Jane Austen. They claim to be so woke and liberal, discussing pre-concepts, sexism and homophobia on their scripts, but behaving and thinking like Mr.Darcy. Did they ever consider a scenario where women have voices and opinions? A scenario where I can easily say no and continue my life? See, I’m not hurt because I’m fancying Namjoon, but because from the moment they introduced themselves and their ideas, they seemed like progressivists, looking for equality, open-minded guys, willing to fight our biased society with their movies. However, Yoongi insinuating that Namjoon and I would ever date or engage in a long-lasting romantic relationship, without even considering my perception on it all, the possibility of the woman only looking for a good fuck. He literally throw a tantrum in a thrift shop about it, calling me some random one. The delusion hurt me.”

— Uh girl, I’m sorry about it. That Yoongi guy really assumed some fucked up things about you. - Alexa turned to stare at her friend, who didn’t spare a look from the television, even though she wasn’t actually watching it, only avoiding eye contact. - But you went through several deceptions along life, why is that different? What happened lately that you remain thinking about them? Or him?

Nya got tired of staring at nothing and met Alexa’s brown eyes, thick and beautiful eyebrows. She took her cell phone and found the long text Namjoon sent a few hours before, throwing it to the friend, keen to understand everything surrounding her grumpy aspect.

“Kim Namjoon [03/31/2019, 8h34min]: Hey Nya.

Sorry taking so long to contact you. I couldn’t find words apologizing my behavior four weeks ago. Unfortunately, there is nothing I can say now. I could’ve defended you, Yoongi acted like a jerk and said some hurtful things, which I don’t agree 100% with. I wasn’t in love back in then, but I understand his side from this story. Yoongi is worried about our finances, which I was the responsible for fucking up. Let me explain it all, expose the situation we unintentionally inserted you in.

A few months ago I broke up with an incredible woman who taught me a lot, but also couldn’t bear my working schedule and how I always set her aside. The career I built along with Yoongi always goes first, it’s my main priority, and I never learned how to balance ‘working Namjoon’ with ‘dating Namjoon’. The result of that break up was a moody me, who brought hell to surface and made two of our casted actors quit, they couldn’t deal with my humour (beside one who quit after receiving a better role somewhere else). It really cost us way too much, since they received for working day and we couldn’t ask their payment back. Also, when the infamous movie was released, the numbers were low and barely covered our bills and paychecks, media and critics criticized it harshly.

However, what happened is a vicious cycle which I’m stuck in. It’s one of the certainties from life: death, the ones most adaptable to change will survive and that I’m fucking up a relationship and then ruining a movie. Yoongi always found a way to contort it and put us back, saving our finances, but this time the loss was gigantic. Our company is solely relying on the success of ‘Fierce’, and a few other projects we will be releasing.

I’m not trying to find excuses for everything Yoongi spat to your face, he was rude and unnecessarily loud, but I’m begging you to consider his side as well. We are not up to losing our company, it’s our deepest fear. Min Yoongi and his stone cold heart is trying his hardest to get our butt off bankruptcy. I guess inside his head, he is willing to drag me away from anything considered as a distraction.

Now, enough of Yoongi and our financial trouble. Let's talk about feelings.

Yeah, I'm a lonely man and tend to get attached pretty easily. However, I wasn't in love with you. Nya, you seemed like someone really interesting and attractive, I'd rather chew my feet off than leave Las Vegas without kissing you. You are smart, independent, proactive, empathetic and friendly. Within hours being guided by you through Vegas, we saw how passionate you are about people you grew surrounded by, how you care deeply about them all and are willing to give up on money in order to help them.

By the way, our deal is still up and we casted your friends (Carol even gained a solo scene where she dances and Sasha got lines). Hopefully they already told you, but if they didn't and you are suspicious of my word, get in touch with everyone you introduced to us.

Continuing…

I wasn't in love with your back in then, but after two weeks thinking about it all and checking your social media (sorry about it :S), I grew fond of you. Everyone seems to love you so much and your heart is so big, couldn't help and now I, Kim Namjoon, am fancying you as well.

I'm not hoping to gain your mercy, but am willing to try and get your sympathy back. Would you go out with me sometime? Not in a romantic way, if you don't feel comfortable.

Again, I'm sorry about how it all began and hope we can fix it.

I'll be staying in Vegas for a while.

Thank you. Bye :) “

— First of all. Did he deadass structured the text like an e-mail? - Alexa looked up from the cellphone in time to see Nya grinning. - You are considering the idea of accepting his invitation? Girl, I ain't gonna tell you what to do, but that Namjoon doesn't seen to be a jerk, he could've just gave up, but he insisted and apologized. Did he actually casted everyone you asked to?

— Yes. Two weeks ago I received a text from Carol and Sasha, they thanked me and all. Tio Diego is also renting his bar for their movie. They also chose Paris as the main filming place, casting Honey too. - Nya felt divided, hoping on Alexa's opinion to define what should be done. - I'm still a bit hurt for what happened, but they proved their integrity by casting and renting everything and everyone I suggested. Namjoon apologized, gave me Yoongi's point of view and invited me to a date, giving me the option of saying no or defining if it's romantic or not.

— Nya, I don't see a plausible reason why you would say no. - Alexa’s hand snaked between them and landed on the other woman thigh. - You are only trying to find excuses because you are stubborn. If you want to, then go, get dicked down and you don't necessarily have to head back to him ever again. Even though he assuredly grew fond of you, it doesn't mean you obligatory have to engage in an actual relationship.

Nya huffed and slapped Alexa’s hand off her thigh. She hated when the girl with wavy black hair was right, and unfortunately Alexa seemed to never be wrong.

- x - x - x - x -

The night sky was clear and the air cool, wind making leaves from trees huff against each other and a chill run through everyone's spine. However, Namjoon felt sweat bidding down his forehead, anxiously shifting from one foot to another and resisting the urge to bite his nails.

The lilac-haired man was standing alone in front of Devito’s, same dining Nya took them the first night. His white t-shirt covered by a thin plaid shirt, jeans and white Converse, outfit plained specifically to seen laidback, since Nya chose the place and said it wasn't a fancy date. She was a ten minutes late and Kim had this crazy thought culminating in his mind, where she probably gave up and would call at any moment to dump him.

With 15 minutes of delay, Nya showed up dressed casually with a black Iron Maiden t-shirt, brown corduroy coat, skinny jeans and Vans. Her curly hair free and adorning the whole picture, no makeup, except for a cherry coloured lipstick. Flawless, Namjoon felt like his legs were made out of jelly and would collapse. His guts contracted in the same moment butterflies attacked his stomach. His mind hazing and suddenly his vocabulary vanished, being resumed by the extensive plethora of words pronounced by someone 2 years old, basically “bluh”.

The first half hour from their date felt weird. No one knew what to say, so small talk almost defeated them, but Namjoon decided to insist. Between eating burgers for dinner and dying out of embarrassment from going out in such situation, Kim decided to thank Nya.

His grateful words somehow touched Nya's heart. He sounded so sincere and whipped by her presence, that keeping the attitude of someone offended seemed pointless. Alexa was right, Namjoon liked Nya.

Goddamnit, Alexa.

Like a chain of gratitude, Nya thanked Namjoon for remaining faithful to his promise of casting her friends. He blushed and sipped on his fizzy cherry drink, grinning slightly, dimples marking their presence and reminding the woman why she thought Kim Namjoon was such a heartthrob beforehand.

Those dimples. Goddamnit, dimples. How can you be mad at someone desperately fluff with such a cute face? Nya wanted to stay loyal to her belief and hard feelings, but Namjoon's polite behavior, lovely face and insistence made it specially complicate.

Goddamnit, Namjoon.

Their body language clearly showed how the unsolved business led to a huge amount of sexual tension, Nya could bear it masterly though. Talking about everything and nothing at all, that's how Namjoon decided to speak his mind. What's the point of sitting and awkwardly pretend there is not an elephant in the room? Well, let's excuse it and set the pachyderm free then.

— Nya, I don't know if you are ever going to forgive me for not standing up for you, or whatever… - Namjoon's hand slipped swiftly closer to Nya's, touching her pinky but not holding it, avoiding more of an intimate contact.

— It's not that you didn't stood up or defended me, see there is so much more. Did you guys ever consider the idea that, I don't know, I could easily not want something serious with you? - She allowed his pinky to snake from her side and lightly take a hold of it. - I'm not mainly mad at you, disappointed with both Yoongi and you, though. For guys claiming to be so open-minded, then why is it so hard to assume I don't want a relationship? That I'm glad having something unofficial and leaving? Fuck, you make it so hard to believe you are an hypocrite.

— I'm not an hypocrite. I do believe in women's sexual freedom and ability to choose partners without necessity of commitment. I'm shitty at not getting attached, it doesn't mean that everyone else is also suckers for love. - His gaze was no longer on her eyes, but staring down to his own lap. - Indeed, we discussed my side, claiming I’d fall for you and ruin our project, but never considered your opinion, the possibility of you wanting nothing related to me. We behaved in such a sexist way, I’m profoundly sorry.

Their order arrived, someone almost spinning on her calves. Burgers and fries, so much cheese melting down the seeded bread. What a vision. If the conversation wasn’t in such an uncomfortable place, Namjoon would probably declare his passion for the juicy and greasy food in front of them.

The chit-chatting kept its slow pace. If National Geographics decided to make a parallel between their behavior and animals socializing, then they were trying to mingle, like Taiwan birds, Nya and Namjoon were singing in order to attract each other, hoping to link and connect. They got along once, why was it so hard to do it again? What wasn’t being said? Who was holding the cat inside the bag?

— I think I’m fancying you. - Namjoon finally took the cat out of the bag, or it could be a mice, ‘cause within seconds the elephant sitting on their conversation got up and left. Gone late, pachyderm.

— What? - Nya lifted an eyebrow. - I don’t know why I’m surprised, you said it in the message. Sorry, keep talking.

— When I closed all deals and rented everything we needed for the filming here in Vegas, my friends and my crew was all like ‘Heck yes, Vegas! Strippers, gambling, money, casinos, yaay!’, and even trying my best, the hardest, to focus on working and directing a masterpiece this script deserves to originate, all I could think about was you. - Namjoon decided it would be appropriate to look at Nya, she seemed unfazed, which made him nervous. - Travelling hours in a flying sardine can to see Nya! No one, except for the boys and Jin knew who you are, and kept on questioning me why so much anxiety and excitement over seeing you. And not even I understood. Working and wondering about what you could be doing really messed with my head. Nya, you messed with my head!

— Ok, Namjoon, it’s a lot of information. - She didn’t spare a look, he felt intimidated, but Nya’s behavior never showed any insecurity. - I don’t fancy you, but it doesn’t mean I cannot grow fond of you at any moment. However, in order to see it happening, you’ve got to insist. If you really want to be with me, then you’ll need to stick along, we’ve got to go out more, in different places. We can totally link up and have great sex today, but it won’t guarantee another row. Got it?

Well, Namjoon felt relieved. Nya was far from being mad at him. Oh, he remained willing to go out, as long as she was there.

In the end, if Nya and Namjoon’s story was something elaborated by Jane Austen, then it would be Sense & Sensibility. Nya and her sense changed how Namjoon dealt with his sensibility, breaking a vicious cycle, where engaging in a romantic relationship without previous thinking ruined all logical thoughts and mature behavior.

The end.

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descentintobandom · 6 years

Text

Who Am I?

Title: Who Am I? Chapter: One-Shot Pairing: Andy/Jenni/Remington, OC/OC Rating: T Fic Summary: Emerson and Ashley go to a party and things don’t go as planned.

“Calm down Ash”, Emerson told his twin brother.

“You know I don’t like parties”, Ashley said.

Emerson rolled his eyes. “Because you’d rather be at home with your nose stuck in a book. C’mon, live a little”.

It hurt Ashley when his twin said things like that. Couldn’t he understand that he just wasn’t like everyone else in his family? “Is that dad’s jacket?” Ashley asked.

“Yeah, nicked it while he was at the studio”, Emerson said.

“Nicked it?” Ashley said laughing, “You’ve been spending too much time with Fae and Flynn”.

“At least I have friends”.

“I have friends…”

The twins didn’t talk again until they reached the party.

“One hour. That’s all I ask”, Emerson said.

Ashley glared at his brother and finally said, “Fine. But if you’re gone for more than an hour, I will come after you”.

“Thanks little bro!” Emerson said, running into the crowd of people.

“By 6 minutes!” Ashley yelled back. He found the refreshments and grabbed himself a Coke. As a reader (and a writer), Ashley was a people watcher. “Hey, you”, Ashley heard. He nearly choked on the Coke as he turned his head.

“What are you doing here?” Sebastian Edwards (although he preferred to be called Baz), head of the drama club, asked him.

Ashley’s cheeks turned pink. “I…uhh…umm…I’m here with my brother”, he stuttered.

Baz chuckled, making Ashley’s stomach feel funny. “I meant being ‘Charlie Wallflower’. Learn anything about anyone?” he asked.

“Charlie Wallflower?” Ashley asked, “You’ve read Perks of Being a Wallflower?”

“Yeah, I know it’s a book on the older side, but I think it’s awesome. You seen the film?”

“Had it on repeat after I read the book”.

“Maybe I could come over some time and watch it with you”.

Ashley smiled shyly and said, “I’d like that”. A feeling hit Ashley and he looked around.

“What’s wrong?” Baz asked.

“I don’t know”, he said. “Ashley!” he heard. “Emerson!” Ashley yelled back.

“ASHLEY!” Ashley started to panic, running through the crowd trying to find his brother.

He found him huddled in a corner while a larger boy pummeled him.

Ashley saw red and pounced on the boy, ripping him off his twin. Ashley blacked out and when he came to, the party was silent.

The boy was unconscious on the floor and Ashley’s knuckles were dripping blood. He didn’t know if it was the boy’s or his own. Ashley rushed forward and put his brother’s arm around his shoulder and Baz took the other.

Together, they helped Emerson outside where his legs gave out.

“Emerson!” Ashley said kneeling next to his brother. He shook his brother, but Emerson was unresponsive. Tears filled his eyes as he pulled out his phone and phoned his godfather.

Ashley showed up a few minutes later.

Baz and Ashley loaded Emerson into the car, while his godfather phoned his parents.

“Emerson’s gonna be fine”, Baz told Ashley, “Trust me”. Baz leaned down and placed a quick kiss to Ashley’s lips before Ashley got in the car.

“Where is my son?!” Remington yelled, running into the emergency room.

Andy and Jenni were right behind him.

“Ashley, what happened?” Jenni asked.

“Apparently Emerson was hitting on some guy’s girl and he got in a fight. Got his ass kicked pretty good”, Ashley said.

Jenni rolled her eyes. “Thank you Ashley, but I was speaking to my son”, Jenni said.

“I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do”, Ashley told his mother, “They took him back. I got so scared, because Emerson wouldn’t wake up”.

“I talked to the nurse and they’re gonna keep him over night”, Andy said, “There’s nothing more we can do”.

“My son is unconscious!” Remington yelled.

Ashley jumped. He’d never seen his Papa so upset before.

“Babe, there’s nothing we can do here. Let’s all go home and get some sleep. We can come get him in the morning”, Andy said.

When they arrived home from the hospital, Ashley walked up to his father.

“Dad, can I talk to you?” Ashley asked.

“Yeah”, Andy said.

They went into the home studio.

“What’s wrong, Ash?” he asked.

“Nothing…I think”, Ashley said.

Andy laughed.

“Dad…how, how did you know you loved Papa?” Ashley asked.

“What makes you ask?”

“Well, tonight at the party…there was this guy”, Ashley said, a stupid smile crossing his face, “His name is Sebastian and he’s the head of the drama club”.

“Sebastian?”

“I know, but he’s just so…nice and he knew the book ‘Perks of Being a Wallflower’. Then my heart started racing and my body felt like it was going to explode. When Uncle Ashley showed up to take us to the hospital, before I got in the car he…he kissed me. And I liked it”.

“Ash, if you’re straight, gay, or even bisexual, your mother and I and your Papa will still love and accept you”, Andy told his son.

“Thanks dad…so, can I invite him over soon? He wants to watch Perks of Being a Wallflower together”.

“Let me talk to your mother and Papa, okay?”

Ashley sighed and said, “Fine. Night dad”.

As Ashley walked to his bedroom, he smiled.

Things were looking up.

#andy biersack #remington leith #emerson kropp #ashley biersack #andy biersack imagine #remington leith imagines #black veil brides #palaye royale #black veil brides imagines #palaye royale imagines #andy/jenni/remington #second generation

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laurlovescookies · 7 years

Text

Kadamtimes Prompt: I Think I Want to Marry You 1/1

Adam and Kurt are planning their wedding while visiting Lima. Sue Sylvester demands an invitation. Kurt is not amused; Adam is terribly so.

Sooo, I decided to make Sue a hardcore Kadam shipper whom shares the pain of our minority fandom. Just a short and silly piece which I hope makes you smile!

-O-

“I’m sorry if you don’t like this place,” Kurt apologized as he and Adam entered the restaurant, stomping away the snow on their shoes. “

Unraveling the red scarf Carol had knit for him, Adam threw his fiancé a reassuring look.

“Nothing to worry about, love. You hold your Glee-unions here every time everyone can make it back here, right? There’s a lot of sentimental value to this place.”

“I guess,” Kurt said grudgingly as they trundled in line to be seated by the hostess. Whatever his tone, Adam noticed Kurt was looking around the joint affectionately. “Still, it’s a bit embarrassing that seven years after leaving Lima, Breadstix is the closest thing we have to fine dining. I guess I’ve been spoiled in New York.”

“Hard not to be. You could eat out at a different restaurant every night for a year, several years, and still not have covered but maybe half a percent of what the city has to offer in food.”

“The food here isn’t bad; the commercials always say the breadsticks are sprinkled in fairy dust, but I’m sure there are illegal drugs mixed up in there too. But it’s quantity over quality, and we never saw chicken alfredo or fried chicken ravioli at Giovanni’s or one of those little hole-in-the-ground gems your friends always recommend.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” said Adam as they moved forward in line. “The closest thing my hometown had to quality dining was pub food, really. And that includes a lot of organs in the UK—steak and kidney pie, or haggis…”

Kurt wrinkled his nose. “I will never forgive you for suggesting I order stargazey pie when we last visited your folks. It sounded so good, and you knew it had fish sticking out and staring at you!”

“You must’ve forgiven me a little, considering you agreed to marry me a few days later.”

“Well, you’re lucky you’re very cute.”

“At least I have that going for me.”

“Table for two, sirs?” Asked the hostess, and Kurt could’ve sworn he’d seen her before, albeit many years ago when he and the Glee club began frequenting this place. He took a closer look; she looked a little older and had a ring glinting on her left finger, but he definitely remembered her. Not for the first time he felt a rush of gratitude that he’d escaped this place which had all the gravitational pull of a black hole. It sounded snobbish, but Lima had always been an overly-conservative, cultural wasteland; Glee had been an oasis.

“Hullo!” Adam said cheerfully, jerking him from his thoughts. “We’re actually meeting our friends Chang and Abrahmson…?”

“Kurt! Adam! Over here!”

Tina wildly waved them over from her table, grinning ear-to-ear. Smiling, the hostess handed them their menus and they hurried over, Artie playfully tipping a wheelie as Tina rushed to hug them both.

“What’s up, my homies?” he crowed, thumping their backs as each man stooped to embrace him. “So glad you could get away last minute!”

“Well, we thought we would delay our connection flight back to the city when we heard you were visiting too. Don’t get too many opportunities to visit Canada, do we?”

Shortly after Artie graduated from film school he and Tina traveled to Toronto for Artie’s latest project, a movie called The Colors We Leave Behind, which Tina had starred in. Critical response was explosively positive, and the production reaped Best in Show and Honorable Nominee awards in festivals well-over North America. The couple wound up staying in Toronto where Artie was at work establishing his own company.

“So, let’s see, let’s see,” Kurt said breathlessly seizing Tina’s hand, scrutinizing the glint of gold and the black diamond carefully. He flushed with delight, flailing as Tina sat back and laughed. “Nice! Artie, might I say you have impeccably good taste, and you know Tina to a T. Congratulations, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks, bro. Got some bling-bling on the fing-fing! Now let’s see yours,” demanded Artie. Kurt blushed as Adam raised his hand triumphantly as if he’d just won a bull fight. Tina’s eyes welled up and she looked away, murmuring something about being glad she’d worn water-proof mascara. “Man, I’m so glad. Welcome to the family, Adam! Um, our highly-incestuous family which was at each other’s throats for years, but we loved each other a bit more than we wanted to kill each other, and that counts for something, right?”

Kurt rolled his eyes as Adam very seriously (albeit with a twinkle in his eye) said “Absolutely.”

“Congrats, you guys,” said Tina, reaching over to hug Kurt. “Couldn’t have happened to better people.”

“Do tell: Any wedding plans?” Kurt asked eagerly, eyes lighting up like two stars. Adam knew Kurt could very well succeed in any field he liked, but people would’ve fought in the streets for his wedding planning abilities.

“We’re thinking about a Halloween wedding, with a masquerade theme. Everyone has to wear costumes,” said Tina proudly, squeezing her fiancé’s hand affectionately. “That includes you two. I’m still at work on my outfit.”

“I’m probably going to be Stephen Hawking or R2-D2. Haven’t decided yet, but I might just do both and come as a cyborg. Why not? It’s Canada. You can be whatever you want to be.”

Adam leaned forward with a gleam in his eye. “Well, we made a brilliant Jack and Sally at Isabel’s last costume party,” he pointed out to Kurt, whom was already looking a little bemused. “Would it be in bad taste if Kuht and I dressed like zombies?”

“Not at all. We’re incorporating those into the cake. And we’re renting a venue that’s supposedly haunted by a janitor and his cat.”

Kurt clearly looked conflicted for a moment, and then he smiled and nodded—when in doubt, he’d often advised Adam. “I like this, I like this. That’ll be anything but boring. We won’t miss it for the world. I’d recommend in the spirit of pure authenticity that you go with a strawberry filling with your cake. It’ll seem like people are eating gore.”

Tina looked as if she could kiss him. “Oh my God, Kurt. That’s fantastic. You think of everything.”

Kurt flashed Adam an affectionate look as he looped an arm around Kurt’s waist, stifling a chuckle. The idea of a macabre Halloween wedding likely violated every wedding sensibility Kurt Hummel had, but there really wasn’t anything he wasn’t willing to work with.

“And in lieu of using tea-lights, might I suggest using lanterns on the table for a more dismal ambiance? Actually, if you’re looking to be economically-efficient, I’d use jack-o-lanterns instead.”

Artie whipped out a notepad from his bag and started scribbling furiously as Adam thoughtfully wondered aloud: “We know some excellent makeup artists on Broadway whom would probably be more than happy to give us pointers on how to look like extras on The Living Dead.”

“Might I suggest we dress like Jack and Enis from Brokeback Mountain? It’s a bit morbid, but at least they’d be together again.”

“Oh my frog, what about your wedding plans?” Tina asked, leaning forward in her seat. Kurt took her hands in his. “England or New York? What venue? Oh my God, Kurt, I’m so excited to see what you do; you stashed wedding magazines like contraband in your room for years. Your parents’ wedding was incredible, and you didn’t even have that much money to work with!”

Kurt blushed. “Well, we, um—“

“Wait, has your engagement been linked to the press yet?” Artie asked, frowning slightly. “They’re going to go insane; Broadway stars getting hitched doesn’t exactly go under the radar.”

“It most certainly does not.”

Sue Sylvester casually wandered over to their table, her saunter decrying her fixed expression. Artie went white, a thunderstruck Tina bit her lip, and Kurt closed his eyes and tilted his head to the ceiling as if praying for deliverance. Adam gazed at her, utterly bewildered. He’d met the infamous Sue Sylvester only twice before, and never encountered a woman in so much need of an ominous theme music to accompany her as to warn the public of her approach.

“Greetings to you all,” Sue said briskly, putting her hands on her hips. “Porcelain. Lovechild of Satan and Lucy Lu. Specs the Little Engine that Can’t. Rainbow Brite’s gay English cousin.” She nodded to them each solemnly in turn, and Adam stuffed a fist against his mouth, eyes watering with the effort not to laugh.

“What are you doing here, Sue?” Artie asked flatly. At that moment the waiter opted to appear behind Sue. “Good evening! Oh, ma’am, were you intending to join their table?”

“No, no, she was just—“

“Absolutely,” said Sue at once, unwavering stare locked on the four. “I could use a chair.”

“Excellent, ma’am. Just a moment.”

As the waiter scurried off, Kurt surveyed Sue wearily, eyes flicking to the nearest glowing Exit sign. “How did you know where to find us?”

“I resent the implication that I planted a tracking device on someone’s mobile chair,” said Sue, and a clearly alarmed Artie twisted in his seat, carefully looking his wheels over. “But in the spirit of all fairness, when your Glee club members return to your native habit, if you’re not haunting the stomping grounds of your gay camp—the sing-along Kumbaya variety, not the Jesus one—you spend thirty percent of your time here in this restaurant, so coming here would’ve made sense in any case.”

The waiter pushed a free chair to the table, and Sue sat down on it without a word of thanks. “May I start you folks off with anything to drink?”

“A glass of something red for everyone,” she ordered, without so much as looking around. “In the case of Edna Scissorhands over there though, you might want to provide a glass of human blood to go alongside it.”

“Excellent choice. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

“Don’t worry, kids. Drinks are on me tonight. Well, they’re actually on you; I just ordered them. But that’s basically the same thing.”

“Maybe if we ignore her, she’ll go away,” said Tina, slouching in her seat.

“I’d hope several years of my making your lives a veritable living hell would imply otherwise.”

“Well, if you dislike everyone so much, why are you here?” Adam inquired, settling his cheek in his hand. Sue cast him a cool look.

“Well, Brit butt-chin wonder whom I hate slightly-less than everyone present because you weren’t a member of the lollipop guild, I’m here because I wanted to offer you my heartiest congratulations on your coming nuptials.”

“We’ve hardly told anyone. How in the world…you know what, never mind.” Said Kurt, letting his forehead fall on his crossed arms. “I’m sure I’d rather not know.”

“You catch on quickly, Porcelain. Well, as sickened as I am to learn that in all likelihood you Glee members are about to begin in-breeding an army of unholy singing misfit dwarves, the prospect of your weddings are something I cherish. And that’s not because I like free food and stashing good silver in my pockets—not only, anyway. And I’m very disappointed to say that I’ve yet to have received invitations.”

Tina cringed. It was as if Maleficient had suddenly melted from the darkness to offer a subtle threat.

“You spent years bullying us, Sue. Why should we believe that you want to attend our ceremonies? You stuffed garlic in my locker and convinced Principal Figgins to try and stake me through the chest.”

“You slashed my tires over fifty times,” Artie accused.

“You confiscated my romance novels and had me eating celery for over a week when I joined the Cheerios,” cried Kurt.

“You threatened to push me down the stairs!” exclaimed Adam.

“I did it so you’d know not to pull a Blainers on the Glee member I nominated ‘Least Likely To Be Deported to Guantamino Bay for Crimes Against Humanity Via Singing-Induced Torture.’”

“We’d only just met! And then you did push me down the stairs that very next moment! I didn’t even do anything!”

“What you call ‘bullying,’ I call ‘endurance training.’ And if the marines deal my methods to be unethical or over-exerting, well, that’s just their loss. Face it, dealing with me made you better-prepared to deal with a cruel, cruel world, right? When I said you were losers, I was saying that because I cared. And I care so deeply about you that I made my own invitations,” she announced, pulling two hand-made cards from her pocket. “That saves you the trouble of having to buy and make them for me. By the way, yes I accept, I have formal black and white tracksuits to wear for each occasion, and I’ll have the chicken.”

“This isn’t high school anymore,” Kurt pointed out crossly. “We don’t have to listen to you.”

“Porcelain, you wound me. Especially when I took the time to book your honeymoon trips as wedding gifts. Tina and Artie, you’ll be pleased to learn that I booked you an all-expense paid trip to the Alps for a ski trip. Adam and Kurt, I got you tickets and a hotel stay in Saudi Arabia. A trip off the beaten path.”

“I can’t ski!” said Artie incredulously, gesturing to his chair.

“And incidentally, homosexuality is a crime punishable by decapitation in Saudi Arabia,” Adam pointed out, very-near scowling. “Do you know what would happen if Kurt and I just showed up at the front desk announcing we wanted a honeymoon suite?”

“Yes, well, logistics. Just switch, and everyone’s happy.”

“I don’t want to go to Saudi Arabia,” Tina snapped.

“The black shrouds that the women wear aren’t all that different from your daily wardrobe. Plus good protection for you against the sun.”

“Sue, please let it go.” Kurt implored. “I can’t think you actually want to come to my wedding and wish us well.”

Sue rounded on him at once. “I’m shocked! Your wedding is the one I least want to miss. I ship you so hard it hurts my heart. Seriously—my doctor warned me against it. But Kadam is just something I cannot and should not resist. Even with the dearth of fanart.”

“We’ve talked about this,” said Kurt angrily as Adam pretended to look for something under the table, laughing so loudly it was silent. “You need to stop posting Real People Fiction stories online about the glee club members.”

“And quit posting them to our Facebook pages! I don’t know how you got past our blocks, but it’s got to stop.” Griped Tina, banging her fist on the table. “You totally ripped off Stephen King’s Misery when you wrote that story about my locking Blaine in my basement. And I’d never do that, by the way.”

“I don’t like it either,” said Artie firmly. “You can’t just make practically everyone in Glee club gay. I didn’t appreciate that one-shot you posted; I would never do that to Kurt.”

“Oh, I’ve come to accept that. My interest in Kartie was short-lived, I assure you. And Klaine—“ Sue wrinkled her nose. “I had to delete those stories. I felt mortified. Tainted. It turns out I’m into healthy, happy, and non-codependent relationships.”

“Can you get one of your own, then?” Asked Kurt despairingly as Adam re-emerged, face flushed, still shaking with laughter.

“No,” said Sue. “And might I say it pains me to be a minority. I feel your pain, Vampiric Cohen-Chang, for I too stand alone in a sea of fool shippers whom love that tool so much they ought to relocate themselves into a shed. Or someplace where straitjackets are dress code.”

“Just how many people do this?” asked Adam wonderingly, as Kurt muttered “Don’t encourage her.”

“Well, you four are all famous now. Even Blaine is, though I like to pretend he was kidnapped by Somalian pirates. Naturally people like to write stories ranging from sweet to mentally cataclysmic about the celebrity couples they dream up. Although I was doing it before it was cool. If you want Kadam fanfiction, alas, I’ve come to terms with the fact that you have to write it yourself. Although I do aspire to be like my fellow troopers. They’ve been in the trenches with me for some time.”

“Sue—“ Kurt interjected tiredly.

“In all seriousness, seeing you visit Lima looking so miserable after Blaine cheated on you made me want to kick a wall or kill a small woodland creature. I did both and neither made me feel better,” the woman said, picking up her menu and reading carefully when Kurt started in surprise. “Pushing Blaine down the stairs sort of did though. In retrospect, he might’ve done you a favor; you might’ve felt obligated to stay with him had he not cheated, and that’s a pretty rotten reason to stay in a relationship. Especially with someone whom encourages you to be small to make themselves feel big. That’s why I gave you a friendly push out the door; long-distance relationships just aren’t made to last.”

Her voice became considerably lower, as if she feared someone would overhear. “And you deserved better.”

Kurt was stunned speechless. Adam reached for Kurt’s hand and squeezed it.

“Well…in that case, thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome. And so I will be pleased to attend your wedding. In fact,” said Sue, a conspiratorial spark glinting in her eye. “I will be pleased to accept your invitation to become your flower girl.”

What? This woman’s reason left Adam’s head spinning worse than when she’d pushed him down the steps in front of Kurt’s old high school.

“We didn’t offer that!” protested Kurt.

“But you will,” said Sue placidly, reaching behind her to steal a basket of breadsticks from a passing waiter’s tray, setting it on the table and helping herself to one. “Because I’ve always supported you 115%. After Blaine’s hideous proposal, I had Astro Boy put in detention for a week due to gross misuse of hair gel. And then I snuck into his home and cut up all his bow ties.”

“That’s…that’s very sweet of you, but—“

“And I’ve cherished a dream for years of being a flower girl at your opulent gay wedding at the Plaza hotel,” she finished triumphantly. Kurt buried his face in his hands.

“How did…no. No. Never mind; I don’t want to know.”

“The Plaza?” squealed Tina in delight. “That’ll be beautiful!”

“A…flower girl?” asked Adam in surprise. “You?”

“Are you doubting my ability to strew flowers in a girlish and joyful fashion? It’s on my resume. And I have headshots.”

“Um…that’s very…generous, but we already have a flower girl,” said Kurt with a consolatory expression belied by a slight lip twitch. “Adam’s second cousin Emma already claimed the spot.”

“Fine. Tell Emma I will fight her for the basket, with whichever weapon she chooses. I’m partial to knife fights, though I do have a propensity to bring guns—“

Adam nearly sputtered water over himself. “Emma is five!”

“Oh. Well, we know how that ends, then.”

“Why do I get the feeling that this will be much easier if we just say yes?” asked Artie, sighing.

“Excellent idea. I knew those glasses meant something beyond the fact that you’re a nerd.”

“She’ll just hound us to the end of the Earth,” he pointed out as Tina shook her head.

“It’s a matter of principal, Artie. It’s like Rachel said: We shouldn’t negotiate with terrorists. I vote no.”

“Well, I vote yes,” said Sue, crossing her arms. “So clearly regarding this wedding, you’re outvoted.”

“You don’t get to vote!”

Kurt looked down at his plate thoughtfully. He was radiating hesitation; while Adam wouldn’t really mind having two flower girls (even a manic woman like Sylvester) she’d spent a considerable amount of time and effort trying to take away the Glee club safe space, even if she did opt to help them win Nationals.

“Mommy?”

A little blond girl approached the table, adjusting her glasses. Robin Sylvester had a small bunny and a book in hand, eyeing them all curiously. Sue’s stony expression melted at once, and Adam couldn’t blame her; he and Kurt nursed soft spots for Sue’s sweet and bright child. How Sue had produced her was one of life’s inscrutable mysteries.

“Hello, sweetheart,” the woman cooed, scooping up the little girl, whom murmured a shy “Hello” when Kurt waved and Adam winked at her. “Weren’t you reading your book at the table?”

“I was, but I wondered what you were doing.”

“Just negotiating, angel. Mommy wants to be a flower girl, and these mean people are saying no.”

Robin perked up with interest immediately.

“Flower girls are pretty. My friend Rosie got to be one,” she murmured, taking a breadstick her mother proffered. “And she looked so nice. The flowers smelled so good.” She looked up at Sue with a smile. “You would be a pretty flower girl too, Mommy.”

Sue beamed down at her before looking pointedly at them all, whom now looked quite pained.

Oh, what were you supposed to say to that?

Adam recovered first. “Well, Sue, we appreciate your offer, but I’m afraid Kurt and I just can’t invite you to our wedding. It’s a matter of principle.” Something like hurt flashed in Sue’s expression, although she quickly masked it.

“Buuuut, if this lovely little lady would like to accept an invitation to be a flower girl and just so happens to bring you along as her plus one, well, we’ll just have to deal with it. Won’t we, Kurt?” he asked, now feeling uncertain. He really ought to have discussed this with him first.

But Kurt’s eyes were glowing softly in approval. “Well, we certainly can’t choose Robin’s plus one. So we’d simply have to make it work. And if Robin just so happened to share her basket with her mom, well, there’s no helping that, is there?”

“Mommy, what are they saying?” asked Robin, whom didn’t seem to believe her ears. Adam flashed her a toothy grin.

“Miss Robin Sylvester, will you be our flower girl? We have another one, but the more the merrier, right?”

“Mommy, can I?”

“Of course, of course, yes!” she crowed, squeezing the little girl tightly; the latter looked enraptured, wriggling with pure joy. Sue drew back a bit, looking slightly concerned.

“But I do get to be your plus one, right?”

Robin bobbed her head.

“And you’ll share your flowers with me?”

“Yes.”

Sue hummed in satisfaction, kissing her on the head. “That’s so good of you.” She gave Kurt and Adam a look that came somewhere in-between annoyance and gratitude.

Tina was looking resiliently away, but she was now fighting a begrudging smile of her own. “Well,” she said shrugging, looking at Artie. “We aren’t having flower girls at our wedding, but if we just so happen to invite Robin and she brings Sue, then we can’t object to that either.”

“Whaddaya say, sweets? Can I be your plus one again?”

Robin bobbed her head again. Sue looked like a well-satisfied cat. “Just so you’re aware, my child is cuter than any of your future spawn,” she announced, looking up at the waiter as he returned with the wine. “I’ll be paying for tonight’s dinner, although you need to put a lot of garlic in the girl’s food.”

Tina made a face.

And so that’s how Kurt and Adam were suckered into having three flower girls instead of one.

#kadam fanfic #Kadam Week 2017 #kadam #Kurt Hummel #Adam Crawford

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animationnut · 7 years

Text

To Gravity Falls, From Piedmont: Chapter 28

Summary: It’s a long way until next summer. Until then, Dipper and Mabel share their daily antics and life problems with their lifelong friends and attentive great-uncles through an endless string of e-mails. Distance makes the heart grow fonder after all, and there’s no place Dipper and Mabel love more than Gravity Falls. Note: In which Mabel and Dipper switch places. If the idea of Dipper dressing as a girl and Mabel dressing as a guy makes you uncomfortable, here's your warning.

Chapter List

To: Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn); Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan)

From: Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick)

Subject: Hollywood stars in your neighbourhood

Yo dudes.

I just read that the crew of The Sarcophagus' Curse is coming to do a promotional stunt in Piedmont for their latest film. Since it's Dipper's favourite film of like ever, I'm not bothering to ask if you're going to meet them. Snag me an autograph from Leila Petti, will you? She's a kick-butt actress.

See all messages in this thread (Expand)

Mabel Pines: Dipper would if he could. But he can't. He's been moping about it for the last two days.

Dipper Pines: It's typical. The cast of my favourite film franchise is coming on the one day I'm already busy. Life really is unfair.

Wendy Corduroy: That sucks. You can't get out of whatever you're doing?

Dipper Pines: My robotics club is getting ready for an upcoming bot-fighting tournament. We have a meeting after school and I need a decent excuse in order to miss it. Like a severe illness. Otherwise I'll get kicked out.

Wendy Corduroy: Bot-fighting sounds super rad, but it's not an once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Mabel Pines: He wants to finish the year with the club so he'll get into the high school robotics club. Apparently it's competitive.

Dipper Pines: It is. And as much as I want to, I can't skip out. We worked really hard on our robot and it wouldn't be fair if I just left them to it.

Wendy Corduroy: Well, what about Mabel? She can get the autographs for you…and me.

Mabel Pines: I could totally do it.

Dipper Pines: I know, but it's just not the same as meeting them myself. This would be a great time to clone myself.

Mabel Pines: Your lesson was clearly not learned.

Wendy Corduroy: What?

Dipper Pines: She's just making a joke. Which is not funny.

Wendy Corduroy: You know what, you already have a clone—sort of.

Mabel Pines: He does?

Wendy Corduroy: Yeah, you.

Dipper Pines: Pretty sure my clubmates would notice the difference between me and Mabel.

Wendy Corduroy: Not if you switch places and disguise as each other.

Mabel Pines: We haven't done that since we were super little.

Dipper Pines: I don't think that's going to fly. She's, you know, obviously a girl and I'm obviously not.

Wendy Corduroy: Come on, it's the perfect solution. You guys are pretty similar in facial structure and body shape and you could probably imitate each other's voice. No one will know.

Mabel Pines: It sounds like fun!

Dipper Pines: Seriously?

Mabel Pines: Why not? Besides, I've got the best Dipper impression.

Wendy Corduroy: Mabel can go to your club and you can go meet the stars of The Sarcophagus' Curse.

Dipper Pines: As Mabel. I'll meet A-List Hollywood actors dressed as a girl. Why can't I go as myself and have Mabel dress as me?

Wendy Corduroy: There's going to be a lot of cameras snapping pictures and a lot of people. It might get back to your club members and then they'll realize they were tricked.

Dipper Pines: Which still would not be as awkward as getting busted for dressing as my sister.

Wendy Corduroy: They won't knoooow.

Mabel Pines: You can't reschedule your meeting and you can't miss it. This is a solution!

Dipper Pines: You are way too excited about this.

Wendy Corduroy: What do you say, Dipper?

Dipper Pines: …fine. Why not? I've done far more embarrassing things.

Mabel Pines: Plus you really really want to meet Danny Devro.

Dipper Pines: It's a great motivator, actually. Even with the knowledge that I won't pull this off.

Wendy Pines: Dudes, no one is going to notice. Trust me.

Dipper Pines: We'll see.

Mabel Pines: Operation Switcharoo is a go!

"Found it!"

Dipper paused his wrestling with a pair of light blue leggings to call, "Hang on a second!"

He managed to yank on the article of clothing and adjusted the short skirt, which was a darker shade of blue. Dipper then shrugged on a sweater that had silver and blue gem swirls on the front. Outfit complete, he swung open the door where his sister was patiently waiting on the other side.

"This is a bad idea."

"Won't know until we try it," said Mabel cheerfully. She was already wearing Dipper's orange T-shirt, dark blue vest and shorts. In her hands was a wig, long brown hair that was a shade darker than her natural hair colour.

Dipper gingerly took it, rolling the artificial strands of hair through his fingers. "Why do you even have this?"

"For Halloween, a long time ago. When the hairdresser cut my hair way too short and I needed it longer for a costume. It came in handy then so I decided to keep it. Good thing, huh?"

"Yeah," said Dipper flatly, adjusting the wig over his own short locks. Mabel handed him a brush and he smoothed out the tangles. When he was finished, Mabel was staring at him with an awed stare. "What?"

"Pretty sure this is going to work out fine."

Brow furrowing in confusion, Dipper approached the mirror and was stricken by his reflection. With the addition of the wig, he looked strikingly like Mabel. "I don't know how to feel about this."

"Just a few more finishing touches," declared Mabel.

She took some blush to use to redden Dipper's cheeks, foundation to take the redness away from his nose and used mascara to elongate his adjusted the wig so that hair fell over his forehead, covering his birthmark. "Wow," was all Dipper could find to say.

"Tell me about it."

Mabel removed a clip from the pocket of her shorts and piled her long hair on top of her head. She took Dipper's ushanka and pulled it on, covering the excess of hair from sight. As she used the blush to redden the tip of her nose, Dipper squinted at her eyelashes, suddenly releasing they were much shorter than before.

"Wait, what did you do to your eyelashes?"

"Trimmed them with cuticle scissors."

Dipper gaped at her. "That's dangerous!"

"It's not the first time I've done it. But this is the first time I've got them this short. You hardly have eyelashes compared to me."

"I think you're taking this way too seriously."

"I've got a part to play, bro!"

"Those theater lessons you took when you were seven really left an impression."

Mabel finished her makeup application process and they stood side-by-side in front of the mirror. There were some things they couldn't mask, such as Mabel's cheeks being rounder than Dipper's, miniscule difference in height and Mabel's braces.

"That's a problem," remarked Dipper, gesturing to the silver gear adorning Mabel's teeth.

Mabel thought for a moment and said, "I'll be right back." She disappeared and returned a minute later carrying a white bacteria mask. She strapped it over her mouth and swung out her hands in victory. "Voila!"

"I'm changing my mind. This is most definitely not a good idea."

"You're sick and don't want to spread it around! Problem solved."

Dipper scratched the back of his neck, feeling the wool material of the sweater rub against his skin. "What about me? I can't magically acquire braces."

"You're going to be in the city, where no one knows Mabel Pines wears braces," she answered, unconcerned. "Even if you run into some kids from school, it's not like they talk to us anyway."

Knowing she had a point, Dipper looked once more at their reflection in the mirror. "I know we're twins, but this is still freaky."

"Freakier than the time we switched bodies on the magic rug?"

Dipper blinked. "Right. That was a thing that happened. Never mind then."

…

Mabel approached the house of Dipper's robotics club friend, Justin. The garage was open and she stepped inside. "Hey, guys."

The three males standing around a worn wooden table glanced up. "Uh…hey, Dipper," spoke Justin, eyeing Mabel oddly. "What's with the mask?"

"I've got a nasty cold. I'd hate to spread it around."

"Thanks for the consideration, but a couple of germs won't stop us." Len kept his eyes on the small, square, tank-like robot as he tightened the bolts. "We're winning the tournament this year."

The look of utter seriousness and determination on their faces caused Mabel some bewilderment. She knew that the bot-fighting tournament was important, but she didn't realize it was such a big deal. Dipper was excited about these events, sure, but not as intense.

"Right. So what can I do?"

"Did you get the wiring finished from last time?"

"Er…no, I'll get right on that."

Mabel removed a blue notebook from Dipper's bag, which he had told her contained instructions for the mechanisms of the robot they were constructing. He had known that he would be tasked with finishing the wiring, and wrote everything down that Mabel needed to do in the notebook.

She turned to the correct page, where there was a coloured diagram with notes written neatly in the page beside it. Mabel crouched next to the open panel and studied the red, green and blue wires coiled together inside.

Okay…you can do this. It's like a puzzle. And Dipper's already told you where the pieces go.

She pulled on a pair of rubber working gloves and a pair of pliers. She started to twist certain wires together and splicing others apart. She was relieved that Dipper had laid everything out for her to follow, because while she was a whiz with glue, wool and scissors, she knew nothing of robot building.

"Ouch!"

She let out a yelp when she accidentally pinched herself with the pliers. She hastily looked around to see if anyone had caught her high-pitched sound, but the three males were intent on finishing their own tasks.

Right. Dipper's scream isn't exactly the manliest to begin with.

It was twenty minutes later when Mabel finished her work and she screwed the panel back into place. "Finished," she declared.

"Same," spoke Justin.

"I think we're as ready as we can be," said Len, wiping his hands on his jeans.

"Anyone have any last-minute suggestions for what we can add?" asked Diego, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes.

"Glitter."

It was an automatic response, leaving her lips before Mabel could think about it. She stilled as the three turned to stare at her with odd expressions. "What?" asked Justin.

Mabel shrugged nonchalantly. "It looks sort of bland, is what I mean. Isn't there something we could use to liven it up?"

Diego glanced at Justin. "Dipper's got a point. It does look sort of boring. At least the other robots have lights on them."

Justin thought for a minute. "We've got some glow-in-the-dark paint. We could use that."

He went over to a wooden shelf and removed a metal can. Together they decorated the robot, painting the base with green flames and the robotics club logo on the front. Diego added skull and crossbones on the back. Justin turned off the lights and an eerie green glow surrounded their metal contraption.

"That looks awesome," said Diego with a grin. "Good idea, Dipper." He raised his knuckles for a fist-bump and Mabel returned it. Diego blinked and added, "Wow, your hands are soft."

"All right guys, I think we're all set. The robot's finished, charged and we have fresh batteries in the controller." Justin went over to a bag near the door and removed four grey work jumpsuits, where their school logo was embroidered over the pocket. "We'll have to leave soon if we want to get there in time to register."

Mabel blinked. "What?"

"Our competition is tonight, remember?" When Len got a blank stare in return, he turned to look accusingly at Justin. "Didn't you tell Dipper that the tournament got rescheduled to tonight?"

"I thought I did." Justin checked his text history. "Oh. Sending failed. Sorry, man."

"It's okay."

Justin handed her a jumpsuit and Mabel felt her face flare up when he started removing his shirt to change. She hastily retreated to a corner of the garage and yanked the jumpsuit over her clothes, knowing she would probably be hot with the extra layers.

She then took out Dipper's phone (because her pink sparkly case would be a dead giveaway) and started texting.

'So your robotics tournament is actually tonight. Surprise!'

…

Dipper stood in the long, twisting line of people stretching down the blocks. He had already been waiting for about two hours and now he could see the Hollywood stars if he inched out to peer further ahead. They were stationed at a table in front of a large poster advertising their latest movie, along with cardboard cut-outs and other promotional materials.

He let out a quiet sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. He could feel sweat gathering beneath the wig and under his armpits, and he wondered for the umpteenth time how Mabel was able to endure such weather in heavy clothing.

No one had given him a second look, not through his trip through the city and not as he waited in line. He was glad Mabel had used waterproof makeup on him, or else the sheen of sweat on his face would have been his undoing. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to disguise his voice, or if it would be better if he didn't talk at all.

A buzzing sounded within the white purse slung over his shoulder, which Mabel had given him to store his stuff. He normally used his backpack to carry his items around, or packed it inside of his vest, but he had to make do with one of Mabel's purses (which he had to admit was pretty handy—it had a lot more pockets to utilize).

Dipper dug out the cellphone and was momentarily confused to see his name flash across the screen until he remembered that he and Mabel had switched phones. He read the text, his stomach immediately sinking with panic.

'What?! It's not supposed to be for another couple of weeks!'

'I guess the text Justin sent you didn't go through. Don't worry, bro. I'm sure it'll go fine. I can film it if you want to see your bot throw-down.'

'That's not the problem. The problem is that I'm controlling the robot. Which means YOU'RE controlling the robot.'

'Oh snap.'

'Yeah.'

'Is that in your little book?'

'I thought tonight was just a regular meeting, so no, it's not in my book. If I tell you the controls, do you think you could do it?'

'Is it like a video game?'

'Pretty much, yeah.'

'Lay it on me.'

Dipper typed out the instructions for the robot's controls, triple-checked to make sure he hadn't forgotten a single detail, and paused. For a moment, he hesitated, debating on whether or not he should abandon his mission and go finish out the year for his robotics club.

But he was so close to getting the autographs, and he'd come this far. He'd been to plenty of robot fights before with his club members, and if they won all their battles tonight, they would move on to the state-wide tournament.

And he trusted Mabel would annihilate the competition. He hit send.

'Got it. Don't worry bro, we'll win this.'

'I know you will. If you feel nervous, you can always ask one of the others to do it. They might get suspicious, but they'll take over.'

'Are you kidding? I've always wanted to fight with one of your bots before. It'll be fun. Plus, considering we fought a crazy triangle demon with the Shacktron, this will be nothing.'

'Fair point. Good luck!'

'Thanks!'

As the next hour or so passed, Dipper inched his way further in the line. He eventually made his way to the front, his heart pounding with excitement. Hands trembling slightly with nerves, he stepped up to the table, draped with a deep red tablecloth, where the four main stars were sitting—Danny Devro, Leila Petti, Joshua Jans and Henry Douglas.

"Hey, sweetheart," greeted Leila.

"Hi."

It was the first time Dipper was grateful for his high-pitched squeak whenever he got nervous, for it made his voice passable to a female. He extended the small glossy movie poster he had brought with him for and the actors started to sign it.

"What's your name?" asked Danny.

"Dipper."

Oh, shoot.

The foursome exchanged glances, eyebrows raising. "Dipper?" repeated Danny in bemusement. "I'm guessing that's a nickname."

"Uh…yeah."

Intrigued, Henry leaned forwards. "Don't leave us hanging, girl. How did you end up with a nickname like that?"

Mindful of the wig on his head, Dipper carefully nudged the brown bangs aside, revealing a portion of his birthmark that the strands hid from view. "Because of this. It's in the shape of the Big Dipper."

"That's amazing," reacted Joshua.

Dipper brightened, letting the hair fall back into place. "Thanks!"

"All right, Dipper, important question." Danny passed the poster on to Leila and then gestured between himself and Joshua. "Who's your favourite?"

"You," answered Dipper automatically.

Danny grinned. "Danny Nation represent."

"Give me a break," muttered Joshua.

Dipper's eyes widened. "I mean, you're great too—"

"Don't feel bad for telling the truth, you made the right choice," interjected Danny. "I'm way hotter than he is."

Joshua glared. "You're only slightly in the lead!"

At Dipper's confused expression, Leila giggled. "It's their dumb contest. They take tallies from the female fans to see who is more popular. It's super shallow, but then again so are they."

"We can hear you," said Danny in annoyance.

"That's not what I—" Dipper tried to interject, but Joshua interrupted.

"Seriously, it's cool. I don't mind."

Dipper was about to insist that he had meant something completely different when he said Danny was his favourite, but was distracted by Leila signing his poster. He removed another one from his bag, a poster of Leila's movie character. "Would you mind signing one for my friend Wendy?"

"Sure thing."

Soon the posters were back in his hands and Dipper said sincerely, "Thanks. You're all amazing. These movies are my favourites."

"We're only amazing because of fans like you," returned Henry.

"Yo, Danny, give a member of your Nation a kiss."

"Gladly."

Dipper did not get time to protest, for Danny leaned over the table and kissed him on the cheek. Stuttering out a goodbye, Dipper hastily retreated, face red and throat beginning to ache from the strain of using a high voice.

Wait until Mabel hears this one.

…

The location of the tournament was the local community center, one of the large meeting rooms transformed into sections for the robot matches. Mabel and the guys had made it to the final match, where if they won, they would move on to the state-wide tournament.

By this point Mabel had gotten the hang of steering the robot. She was currently in the middle of a heated match, their small robot going against a heavily-armoured opponent. The exterior was covered in spikes and below that was a thick metal, making it difficult to land hits.

"Oh man, that thing is tearing us up," muttered Diego.

Mabel's eyes narrowed. "Not for much longer."

Okay. I need to find out how to hit that thing. It's outside material is too strong. But…I wonder what the underneath looks like.

Mabel studied the other robot, which was bigger and heavier than theirs. "Let's see how well you can turn corners."

She pretended to retreat, guiding the robot away from the enemy. It followed in pursuit and Mabel waited until it was close enough before making a sharp turn and whizzing past. The other robot tried to copy the turn, its weight making it tilt slightly. Seizing this opportunity, Mabel charged her robot forwards caught the exposed bit of the enemy robot, managing to tilt it over completely. It's underside was not nearly as protected and Mabel activated the water gun of their robot, soaking the circuits and frying the system, causing the enemy bot to shut down.

"Yes!" cheered Justin.

"Way to go Dipper!" whooped Diego.

"We're moving on to the state tournament!" exclaimed Len.

Mabel smiled broadly, pumping her fist in victory. Justin retrieved their robot and the four went to receive their medals for winning the school district championship. They shook hands with the other school team before leaving.

"We're going to get some ice-cream, are you coming?" asked Diego.

Mabel shook her head. "No, I have to get home. But thanks anyway!"

"No, thank you. We wouldn't have won if you weren't an expert on these controls," said Len.

"I've had a lot of practice," replied Mabel. "It's just like a video game. I'll see you guys at school!"

"Hey, take a cough drop when you get home!" called Justin as Mabel jogged away. "Your voice sounds terrible!"

…

'We won, bro!'

Sitting near the back of the bus, Dipper read Mabel's text and smiled. 'I had no doubts. Thanks.'

'No problem. It was actually really fun. I took some pictures. I'll show them to you after. Oh, and Justin clearly doesn't listen to you, because he thinks my impression of you was a symptom of your illness. I don't know what's with him, because I nailed it.'

'The bacteria mask probably threw you off.'

'Yeah, that must be it. So how did it go with you?'

'Great! I got my autographs, and the actors are actually really cool people. Danny Devro kissed my cheek, so that's a thing.'

'No way!'

'Yeah. He asked me who my favourite was, between him and Joshua. When I answered that it was him, I didn't realize it was a poll to see who has the most female fans.'

'Boys.'

'Tell me about it. Are you home?'

'Yup. I don't know how you manage to go around with the ushanka all the time, I thought my brain was cooking.'

'I'm used to my head being warm. How do you wear your sweaters year-round?'

'I don't mind my upper body being warm, so long as my legs and head are cool.'

'Your clothes are very comfortable, but this is the last time I'll switch places with you.'

'Ditto. I missed my sweater and glitter. But hey, it went pretty well!'

'Much to my amazement.'

'Operation Switcharoo is a success!'

Dipper was about to type out a response when the phone started buzzing, indicating an incoming video call from Stan. He instinctively clicked accept and Stan's face filled the small screen. Stan opened his mouth to say something, froze, and stared blankly. Dipper returned the stare, eyes wide, and said (in as high a voice as he could muster on a crowded public bus), "I'm going to have to call you back."

He hastily hung up and texted Mabel back.

'Uh. Yeah. Sort of. We're probably gonna hear from Grunkle Stan soon. Just saying.'

To: Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan); Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn)

From: Grunkle Stan (StantheMan)

Subject: I probably shouldn't ask but I'm going to anyway

I send a video call request to Mabel's phone, expecting Mabel, and I see Dipper dressed as Mabel. Is there something someone needs to tell me?

See all messages in this thread (Expand)

Mabel Pines: It's a long story.

Dipper Pines: Wendy can tell it. It's mostly her fault. Wendy!

Wendy Corduroy: Did you guys pull it off?

Mabel Pines: We did!

Grunkle Stan: Pull what off?

Wendy Corduroy: Dipper wanted to go and get autographs from the cast of the latest movie in The Sarcophagus' Curse franchise. But he had a robotics club meeting he couldn't miss. I suggested that Mabel could go to the robotics club in his place while he went to meet the cast dressed as Mabel. They switched places.

Grunkle Stan: Gotcha.

Dipper Pines: That's it? No other questions? No comments on the fact I was wearing a skirt?

Grunkle Stan: It's a free country. I figured there was a story why you were dressed as your sister and now I know. The curiosity was killing me.

Wendy Corduroy: And you thought someone would catch you, Dipper.

Dipper Pines: Someone did catch me. Grunkle Stan.

Wendy Corduroy: Well he doesn't count.

Grunkle Stan: Watch yourself, missy.

Dipper Pines: I know we're twins, but I guess we look more similar than I thought. But there were some differences that we had to cover. Mabel wore a bacteria mask to cover her braces and I wore a wig. Turns out my voice can go quite high, which was a relief today but overall slightly annoying.

Grunkle Stan: Masters of disguise. Just like your old Grunkle.

Mabel Pines: Our family is amazing.

Wendy Corduroy: Did you get an autograph for me?

Dipper Pines: I did.

Wendy Corduroy: Sweet.

Dipper Pines: I'll mail it to you this week. Now I'm going to take a shower and have a The Sarcophagus' Curse marathon.

Wendy Corduroy: Was it worth it?

Dipper Pines: Yeah. It was.

Mabel Pines: I think I might see if I can join the robotics club next year. It's a blast.

Grunkle Stan: I'll talk to you runts later. Oh, and Dipper, don't hang up on me again.

Dipper Pines: Sir yes sir!

Mabel Pines: Ha! You got in trouble!

#gravity falls #gf fanfiction #twins switching places #mabel pines #dipper pines #wendy corduroy #Grunkle stan #Stanley pines #to gravity falls from piedmont #byanimationnut

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