#going to just excuse myself to the tantrum hole | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

weasleylangs · 4 years

Text

secrets i have held in my heart - f.w

Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Everyone in the twins’ lives mix them up once in a while, except for Y/N. Fred is dying to know how. Warnings: Some angst with a happy ending, yes I wrote oblivious Fred again with miscommunication issues, what about it, some swearing, brief mention of the war but obviously this is a FredLives!AU :D, mentions of sex but nothing descriptive it’s like one line, - everyone is 18+ by the way! Word Count: 4k

A/N: For the anon who requested super secret mutual pining with some angst where the reader is the only person who can tell the twins apart! Thank you so much for requesting. This has also been cross-posted on AO3 (frederickweasleys) as per the anon’s request!

Also, I didn’t want to write about a 17 and 15 year old pining after each other, so I made everyone older and it’s postwar, however I was like 2000 words into the fic when I remembered George got his mf ear blasted off in DH so…. U do not see that it’s not canon in this fic thank you

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

The sun is blaring down on The Burrow and everyone is starting to wonder the likelihood of getting heatstroke. They’re in the south-west of England and the weather doesn’t usually get above the early 20s in the middle of August, however, mother nature has decided to wreak havoc and today is almost 30°.

Y/N is looking at the pages in her book but she’s not processing anything on the pages. She’s so appreciative of the relaxing life she and all her loved ones finally have. The war ended last year, and while Y/N isn’t family, Molly and Arthur are always insistent she’s welcomed at The Burrow for their Sunday roast dinners.

So she sits under a tree, the muggle fantasy novel in hand as Molly is busy prepping dinner and her friends all play quidditch. Hermione’s been refereeing them despite having no actual knowledge of the rules, and right now, she’s waving Harry’s copy of ‘Quidditch Through The Ages’ at one of the twins trying to prove a point, fully aware she’s going to get nowhere with him. He’s laughing at her and he raises the hand holding the beater’s bat as he threatens to (softly) hit her with it when he looks over her shoulder and spots his favourite girl perched under the tree with his mum’s homemade lemonade.

Before Y/N knows it, the bat’s been thrown in her direction, barely missing her and hitting the tree behind her, and when she looks up, she immediately recognises the twin as Fred. Fred and Y/N are almost two sides of the same coin and their friendship has always been considered unlikely. Fred loves mischief and pranks and he’s extremely exuberant where Y/N is a ‘stickler for the rules’ (Fred’s words, not hers) and she’d much rather spend her day reading than playing quidditch. But their friendship blossomed and eventually for Y/N her feelings evolved into more.

But Y/N is one of Ron’s best friends, and having a crush on her best friend’s older brother is weird, even if they are 19 and 21.

“Hi Freddie,” she says, dog-earing the page and closing her novel, accepting now that Fred’s in her presence, the book isn't getting read again until tonight, “no more quidditch?”

The ginger gives her a shit-eating grin and completely ignores her question, “Darling, I’m George.”

Y/N squints at him for a brief moment, second-guessing herself but the longer she looks at him the more she’s sure it’s Fred, not George in front of her. “No, you’re Fred. I’ve known you for how long? Just accept I can tell you apart.”

Fred mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath as he sits down. He’s always loved that Y/N is the only person who can tell them apart, his own family struggling sometimes and especially when they’re apart. But no matter what, she somehow gets it right every single time and he’s dying to know how.

“You’re never going to tell me how you do it, are you?” He questions and she replies how she always does when he asks, blaming it on intuition and that she doesn’t know how she does it. As always, he doesn’t believe her. Y/N secretly does have a way of easily telling the twins apart, not rooted in intuition in the slightest but she doesn’t want to tell him.

The truth is, the way her heart races when Fred looks or speaks to her is her way of telling them apart. Fred always has a mischievous glint in his brown eyes and the way he looks at Y/N makes her feel like she’s the only girl in the world. George is sweet, loving and exceptionally kind- he was there as a source of comfort and calmness for Y/N when the trio disappeared during their 7th year to hunt Horcruxes, when she and her family went into hiding. She loves George like she would love a brother, like how she loves Ron and Harry, but the love Y/N has for Fred is different and the catalyst for her ability to tell them apart.

“I’m going to get you one day. One day George and I will swap and you’ll get it wrong and as a reward for finally tricking the oh so wonderful Miss Y/N Y/L/N, you’ll tell me how you tell us apart.”

It’s not even an hour later when Fred and George come down wearing each other’s clothing. Y/N’s well aware Fred prefers to wear warm and bright colours while George likes to wear the dark colours in their coordinated clothing, so seeing Fred walk down the stairs in George’s purple shirt and vice versa is funny, despite the fact they’re identical twins, Y/N thinks they look ridiculous and unfamiliar.

“George put the purple back on. You look weird in orange,” she says, as she goes back to help Molly with the vegetables for dinner and soon after she speaks, she hears someone angrily kick the table. She looks up from her potatoes she’s been peeling to see an entertained George and Fred who looks like he’s going to throw a child-size tantrum.

“How!” He exclaims again, pulling the shirt up over his head, shoving it in George’s hands and stomping back upstairs to change. Y/N is about to follow him, genuine concern for Fred in tow. She knows he’s most likely just being dramatic to cause a ruckus but there’s a small part of her that considers he might be serious.

“He’s fine, Y/N,” George states, changing his shirts and throwing Fred’s orange one over the back of the chair as he sits down, “I think he’s trying to rile you up into telling him how you do it.”

She laughs at this, knowing that while she might not have told him, the look in George’s eye hints that he’s picked up on her feelings for his twin brother. But before she can say anything, Ron comes bounding down the stairs and right into the kitchen, Harry in tow. They’re both looking for food and when Ron’s hand makes his way towards the ham, Y/N smacks him.

“Don’t spoil your dinner,” she scolds which causes Harry to laugh.

“But, mum,” Ron mockingly replies, “All the quidditch got me hungry!” He might be 19 but he’s sulking like a 10-year-old boy and Y/N thinks temper tantrums might run in the Weasley family.

When Molly isn’t looking, however, Y/N sneaks him a piece of ham and Ron jumps up quickly, smacking a kiss to her cheek, “You’re the best!” he whispers as he quickly shoves the piece of ham in his mouth to not be caught by his mother.

Soon enough, everyone’s crammed into the small kitchen and Molly waves them all out except Y/N, who she insists stays. She thinks it’s because she was already helping with the vegetables but when she’s about to ask for her next task, Molly has a rare mischievous glint in her eye.

“How do you tell my sons apart?” She enquires and Y/N groans. She hasn’t been asked how she tells the twins apart this often since she was at Hogwarts and before she can speak, Molly continues, “it’s just no one can besides us, and even then, sometimes I catch myself calling George, Fred sometimes.”

Y/N sighs. She loves Molly like her own mother, but she loves to meddle like every mother.

“I just know, I wish I had some excuse like a mother’s instinct, but I just know,” Y/N pauses and thinks how to word her next statement without spilling too much for potential eavesdroppers and Extendable Ears to hear, “They have different energies. I think I pick up on it easily.”

Y/N hopes that’s enough for Molly to drop the conversation at hand and while Molly hums in agreement, she reads between the lines. She’s known for a while that Y/N carries a flame for the oldest twin, after all the way Y/N looks at Fred is the same way she looks at Arthur, so she’s hoping for the day they both stop dancing around their feelings.

She already loves Y/N like a daughter, and she’d like it to be official one day.

After dinner, the girls are all holed up in Ginny’s room. She loves staying at The Burrow. Y/N never grew up with sisters and her friendship with Hermione and Ginny are the closest she gets to them. They usually gossip, who’s dating who, who’s already getting married, sometimes it gets juicy and someone’s pregnant.

When Ginny and Harry, and Hermione and Ron finally got together, they gushed for hours about how it finally happened and how excited they all were.

Tonight, unfortunately, the topic at hand is Y/N and Fred.

“When are you going to tell him?” Ginny enquires as she smooths out her face mask. Hermione’s braiding Y/N’s hair and when she doesn’t reply, Hermione grasps some hair and gives a hard tug. Y/N yelps and while Hermione mutters an apology, she doesn’t miss the wink she gives Ginny in the mirror.

“Tell Fred what exactly?”

“About your feelings for him,” Ginny replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that everyone should have known. Y/N starts to stutter, trying to find words to deny her feelings but these are her two best girl friends, her sisters and she can’t lie to them no matter how much she wants to.

“Okay fine, they exist but he’s never knowing,” she states, a matter of factly as if it’s something to be proud of, “and he’s never finding out. I’m looking at you, Ginevra.” Ginny inherited her love to meddle from her mother, and if Y/N is positive about anything it’s that Ginny is going to meddle to get her best friend and brother together.

“I’m pretty sure he likes you back,” Hermione says. She prides herself on being observant but even she didn’t notice Ron’s feelings for her until he quite literally put his lips on hers.

“I’m just his little siblings’ best friend, Hermione, I doubt it,” she says as she grabs the tiny elastics to secure her hair. “Besides, I think he has a thing with one of the girls from his year at school.”

“You’re choosing now of all days to get the wrong twin? George is dating Angelina. Fred hasn’t even been seen with a girl since he slept with one of Fleur’s cousins at the wedding.” Ginny says and something about this makes Y/N blush, almost happy that Fred’s been single for as long as she has, but the jealousy is in the back of her mind.

“... Shut up,” Y/N laughs as she grabs the nearest pillow and smacks Ginny over the head with it. This causes chaos in Ginny’s tiny bedroom and soon enough all three girls are defending themselves with pillows and jumping around the bedroom.

What none of the girls knew, however, was Fred standing outside of the bedroom, eavesdropping. He’s always been curious about what the girls talk about when the boys aren’t around and Fred reckons if he doesn’t have to hear about his little siblings’ sex life, it doesn’t hurt anybody.

Except it does, and he hurts himself. He arrived just in time for Ginny to question why Y/N doesn’t admit her feelings to someone. At first, Fred was hopeful, especially when the conversation steers in the direction of her liking one of the twins. After all, Bill’s married, Percy’s… Well, he’s Percy and Charlie isn’t in England enough for him to believe Y/N was able to develop feelings for him.

So that leaves himself and George from context clues. He’s always had a crush on her ever since they were in school, but he was always worried about coming off as creepy, pining after someone two years below him.

But then Y/N says ‘I think he has a thing with one of the girls from his year at school’ and he walks off before he even hears the rest of the conversation, hearing the apparent confirmation of Y/N’s feelings for George.

The summer is still sweltering hot when she decides to visit Diagon Alley three days later. She’s shopping for her nephew when she ends up in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Fred was unusually quiet when she said goodbye to him on Monday morning before she floo’d away to her job at the Ministry and she’s hoping to catch him at the shop during quiet hour.

When she walks in, she’s met with a bell ringing and the voice that calls out ‘Hi, how are you today!’ doesn’t make her heart race so she immediately knows she’s caught the wrong twin at the counter.

“Hey, Georgie!” She makes her way over to the counter. It’s a Wednesday morning, so the shop has a lull in customers and he’s doing what Y/N assumes is a stock take of whizbangs. He gives her a nice smile as she potters her way over to him. She stops in front of the love potions, smelling the familiar scent of cinnamon, fireworks and something that can only be described as happiness in the small bottles. She’s so entranced for a moment that she doesn’t even notice George make his way up next to her.

“You don’t need one of these, by the way,” He whispers as he winks, looking behind him and seeing Fred standing on top of the spiral staircase not looking the happiest.

“You’re the second person to tell me that this week,” she mutters, quickly putting the love potion vial down, “I don’t know what any of you mean.”

George chuckles at her obliviousness. It’s been obvious since they were teenagers about the feelings both Fred and Y/N harbour for each other but he can’t help but admit it’s just the tiniest bit funny. Like it’s a joke they’re all in on except the oblivious couple themselves.

“It’s because we’re more observant than you, darling,” George says, absent-mindedly fixing the display so it looks presentable. Y/N’s about to question him when someone clears their throat behind them- an elderly gentleman shopping for some grandkids when George excuses himself with the promise ‘this isn’t over’.

Fred watched the interaction from the staircase and while he didn’t hear anything, he feels like he’s gotten punched in the stomach. He knows he’s never directly told George about his feelings for Y/N, and George is dating Angelina anyway and he’d never betray her, but he can’t ignore the slight feeling of upset he feels when he sees them interact.

“I think Y/N likes you,” Fred says nonchalantly and George almost chokes on his tea. It takes him a moment to fix his breathing before he looks at Fred like he’s got three heads.

“No, she doesn’t?” George questions, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world and that upsets Fred slightly. He’s not upset at George, he never has and he never will be upset with George, but it seems like his comment was brushed off without any deeper consideration.

“No, I think she does,” Fred says, twiddling his quill between his fingers as he stares at the tax invoice in front of him. Wednesday night is budget night and Fred knows he’s not going to get any work done if his mind is stuck on Y/N and her feelings for George.

“No, mate, she doesn’t,” George huffs and Fred notices the eye roll George gives him. George only ever gives him eye rolls when he’s being oblivious. Like when Fred spent 20 minutes looking for his wand last week only to find it in his pocket.

Fred’s convinced George is just being oblivious, blinded by his new relationship with Angelina that he hasn’t noticed Y/N’s feelings for him. “Do you wonder how she can tell us apart?”

George huffs in annoyance as a reply and Fred pouts as he attempts to go back to his taxes. He’s reread the same line three times when George finally speaks.

“I think it’s got something to do with her feelings for us. She feels differently about one twin.” George is intentionally being coy, hoping to Godric that Fred caught the pointed stare and the emphasis but Fred wasn’t looking and the longer he dwells on what George has said the more he’s convinced he doesn’t have a chance with Y/N at all.

It’s the weekly Sunday roast again and Fred isn’t expecting to floo into The Burrow and be met almost face to face with Y/N. He’s planned on ignoring her today, purposely volunteering to do any work needed at the shop while George floo’s to The Burrow early in the afternoon.

It teeters on 5 pm when Fred finally arrives and he’s quickly engulfed in a hug by his mother with his father behind him telling him to stop working on Sundays as ‘Sundays are for family’. With a kiss to his mum’s forehead and a promise to his dad that he’ll force George into doing the Sunday work next week, who throws a piece of stale bread at Fred’s head while exclaiming ‘you offered!’ he quickly makes his way away from Y/N.

Molly’s quick to serve up dinner now Fred’s here, complaining he’s starving already. He quickly steals the seat next to Ron and pulls George down next to him- not wanting to allow Y/N to sit either side of him. Usually, she sits between Ron and Fred and when she turns the corner and the only available seat is the furthest from Fred, her heat sinks a little.

Dinner is pleasant, it always is at The Burrow. Hermione and Y/N talk about the ministry while Ginny tells stories of her Holyhead Harpies tryouts she had during the week. Y/N might let slip she works with the coach’s sister-in-law and overheard some high praise for a certain Miss. Weasley and Ginny’s eyes fill with tears when she hears this.

There’s a quick lull in conversation as Molly waves her wand and the now empty plates make their way into the kitchen, children following behind them ready to help wash up but Fred makes his way outside. He likes to watch the sunset, the sun slowly dipping behind the hills where he learnt how to play quidditch as a kid as the sun becomes shades of orange.

He’s sitting under the tree when Y/N follows him out. She’s shouting his name trying to find him. He slipped out without anyone noticing and that’s unusual for Fred so something is wrong. When she spots him, she starts jogging over and she can’t tell if he’s ignoring her or can’t hear her calling his name, so she tries something.

“George?”

Fred turns, a smirk subconsciously forming on his lips and Y/N finally feels seen by him in a week. “It took me calling you your brother’s name to get your attention?” She asks, kicking sticks out of the way before she takes a seat next to him.

“No, love. Just shocked you finally got us mixed up,” he replies, shoving her a little with his elbow. He knows she only did it to get his attention, but he’s Fred Weasley and he’s going to use this to his advantage. “I believe I told you when you get us mixed up, you’re legally required to tell me how you do it. I’m all ears.” He wiggles his eyebrows but deep down, he’s scared George’s assumption is right.

She rolls her eyes, but the love she has for this boy in her heart can’t be kept a secret anymore. This week she’s felt like he’s been ignoring her and while she and Fred are no means ‘best friends’, not like she is with the others, she’s felt a little piece of her universe missing knowing he’s been upset.

“You and George, I… I feel different about you to how I feel about George,” she starts and Fred’s breath hitches. He doesn’t know if he’s going to storm off or throw up so he just sits and stares at a rock. “George makes me feel comfortable. He’s always willing to talk to me about anything, feeds into the fact I can speak for hours on end about any topic if you let me,” she laughs and her nervousness is in her throat. She notices Fred isn’t looking at her and it’s making her want to run away.

“But you, you feel like home, Freddie. The way my heart races when I hear you speak or when you look at me. It’s the biggest indicator of how I tell you guys apart. George and you may be identical but the way you both make me feel is so different.” She’s whispering now and she’s realised Fred is looking at her so intently that the Earth might open up and swallow her whole.

“Like, home?”

She smiles softly and takes his big hand that’s been messing with rocks into her small ones. “Like I can tell you anything and you’ll never judge me. I could be having the worst day of my life and one joke from you can make me smile even if I’ve been crying for hours.” Her thumb starts to rub along the top of his hand and the way he shivers doesn’t miss her.

“I’m trying to say, in a round-about kind of way, that I’m in love with you, Freddie,” her voice is shaky but there’s no backing out now. “I’m in love with you and this past week where it’s felt like you’re mad at me has me so confused because I don’t know what I did.”

Fred feels incredibly guilty now, he was so caught up in his own feelings that he didn’t stop to think how his actions would affect Y/N. “I thought you liked George,” he whispers, and he feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I thought you liked George and not me and I didn’t want to be near you knowing that.”

She giggles and drops his hands to run her fingers through his hair. It’s still short but she thinks she can convince him to grow it out again. “Me? George? Not even for a second.”

“Why not?” The joking in Fred’s voice is there but so is the genuine curiosity.

“I don’t know. It’s just always been you, ever since I was 11 and you were bullying Ron into performing a spell to turn Scabbers yellow.” She laughs at the memory, watching scrawny Fred bully his small brother on the train platform.

Fred looks down at her, her hands now playing at the hair at the back of his neck and he feels goosebumps rise across his skin. He wants nothing more to lean down and press a kiss to her lips and when he realises he never actually admitted his feelings to Y/N back, he starts to lean down, hoping to convey everything he feels for her through a kiss.

She’s quick to catch on and she leans up so quickly they almost bump noses. It’s messy, like most first kisses are, especially in an awkward sitting down position but the love they have for each other is there and obvious. They pull away when they’re barely kissing anymore, just smiling and laughing into each other’s mouths.

“Does this mean we’re dating now?” Fred asks. It’s a dumb question, they both know it but when Y/N pretends to think he stands up and hauls her over his shoulders and starts swinging her around. The giggles that erupt from her make Fred’s heart swell and he’s about to put her down just to get down on one knee himself and propose right then and there.

“Yes, Freddie, if you want me to be your girlfriend then I’m yours.” Y/N replies and Fred smiles, he loves that. Not Y/N being his, he could never believe she’s an object, but she loves him and he loves her and now he understands why George was rolling his eyes at him.

“As long as you don’t get George and I mixed up in bed, I’m all yours.” He says it jokingly, but the smack he receives from Y/N is no joke and when he starts swinging her around again, he’ll forever make dumb jokes like this if he gets to hear her laugh like that for the rest of his days.

#fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley

901 notes · View notes

frodo-with-glasses · 3 years

Text

More Reading Thoughts

A Journey in the Dark

Remember that time Gandalf torched a bunch of random wolves right before they got to Moria? Pepperidge Farm remembers

Bro I would’ve loved to see the Gate-Stream and the Stair Falls back when Moria was at its peak. That sounds totally legit.

Frodo already knows that Sam will be upset about having to leave Bill. My heart. ;-;

Movie!Sam: “Bye-bye, Bill.” Book!Sam: *ANGRY BAWLING, THROWS ALL THE BAGS ON THE GROUND IN A TANTRUM, SITS DOWN AND CRIES*

Dude, Boromir is the one who threw the rock!! And Frodo told him off about it! LOL It makes sense that they changed it to Merry and Pippin throwing rocks and Aragorn stopping them but duuuuuude, there really is not one member of this Fellowship that isn’t an IdiotTM.

Wanna know how much Sam loves Bill the Pony? He’s weeping and cursing at having to leave him for Frodo. Wanna know how much Sam loves Frodo? He’s willing to leave Bill the Pony to save him.

FRODO CAN SEE IN THE DARK 8-O

Pippin literally just…threw a rock down the well. Wasn’t an accident or anything. He just saw a big hole and felt the urge to YEET.

Gollum Gollum Gollum Gollum

Gimli’s song! More dwarven poetry please!

BRO?? “He is dead then; I feared it was so” is FRODO’S line. HE’D been the one suspecting the worst the whole time!! Look at my man being smart and intuitive and also OW

The Bridge of Khazad-Dum

FRODO STABBED THE TROLL IN THE FOOT LET’S GOOOOOO

Sam stabbed an orc! Lookit my boys being epic!

The funniest thing to me is that Aragorn picks up Frodo like a sack of potatoes and runs for the stairs with him for a whole half a minute before they realize Frodo is actually alive LOL

“[Gandalf] seemed to be still standing guard by the closed door. Frodo breathed deeply and leaned against Sam, who put his arms about him. They stood peering up the stairs into the darkness.” Mmmmfff slay meeeeee

I mean, is Frodo leaning on Sam because he’s hurting and out of breath from being skewered? Is Sam holding him to keep him on his feet? Are they hugging each other because their Wizard is up there fending off the encroaching evil without them and, like scared children, there’s little they can do but hold on to and comfort one another?? All of it at once?? Yes???

Good thing Gandalf needed a breather or we wouldn’t have an excuse to talk about Frodo’s fancy mithril shirt in the middle of this escape scene

Legolas is the embodiment of “I fear no man. But that thing— *points at Balrog* —it scares me.”

GANDALF’S STAFF BROKE. A “BLINDING SHEET OF WHITE FLAME”. GANDALF YELLING AT THEM TO RUN AS HE FELL. AAAAAAHHHHHH.

“Frodo heard Sam at his side weeping, and then he found that he himself was weeping as he ran.” First of all, this is phrased beautifully, and secondly, HI, CALL ME GANDALF ‘CAUSE I’M DEAD.

Lothlorien

Aragorn, about Gandalf’s death: “I hate it when I’m right”

Gimli be like “Yes I know we just lost our wizard and someone you’ve known since you were very young but ROAD TRIP 8-D COME SEE THE TOURIST ATTRACTION WITH ME FRODO”

If I were any better at drawing landscapes I’d draw the reflection in the Mirror of Kheled-zaram. It sounds beautiful.

Frodo and Sam lagging behind the others and holding each other up mmmmmph

Legolas: “Uh, hey, bro, we might wanna… *points at Frodo and Sam*” Aragorn: “OH DIP OH SHOOT BOROMIR GET OVER HERE AND HELP ME OH MY GOSH FRODO I’M SO SORRY D-8”

Remind me to draw the two Men carrying the two wounded hobbits. Cozy.

Honestly that glade seems like a really lovely place to be after a traumatic incident like that.

*debates with myself whether to mention how ever so gently Aragorn stripped Frodo to tend his wounds and how surprised I am that the internet hasn’t sunk its filthy claws into that passage yet*

Legolas: “What a beautiful river! I’m going to sing a song about it.”

I mean if a tree yelled at you when you tried to climb it, you would be startled too.

“‘Yes, they are Elves,’ said Legolas, ‘and they say that you breathe so loud that they could shoot you in the dark.’ Sam hastily put his hand over his mouth.” SAM BBY

“Legolas ran lightly up, and Frodo followed slowly; behind him came Sam trying not to breathe loudly.” HAHAHA SAM BBY NOOOOOO

Frodo asks a question in Common Speech. The elf answers in Elvish. Frodo asks more questions in Common Speech without switching to Elvish like he totally could do instead.

On a scale of Haldir to Sam, how good would you be at crossing the rope bridge? I put myself somewhere below Pippin. I have a pretty good sense of balance, but it depends how taut the rope is.

Bro the blindfold thing makes me so mad. I understand why they did it, but still, bruh. Lothlorien, this is why I don’t like you.

“And talking Frodo’s hand in his, [Aragorn] left the hill of Cerin Amroth and came there never again as living man.” Me: oh ;-;

#gandalf #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #bill the pony #boromir #peregrin took #pippin #gollum #gimli #aragorn #legolas #haldir #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing #long post #assorted thoughts

55 notes · View notes

foodieforthoughts · 4 years

Text

I Would Do It Again - Eight

Summary: Anya Adams, a troubled soul but fierce on the outside, stumbles over a stranger at a party and ends up sharing more than just her name. She’s in for a whirlwind encounter when he turns out to be her boss. Striking up a deal for pleasure, Anya soon finds herself mixing work and play. For someone who swore off love, would she let the handsome Brit break down her walls?

Pairing: AU Henry Cavill x OFC

Words: 3k

Warnings: None.

A/N: Heya everyone. I thank you all who have been following this series and grateful to all your comments. This is yet another filler chapter but I swear you are going to start having a soft spot for Anya by the end of it.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

The smell of books wafted around me reminding me of my high school library in California. Rain pelted against the window with the only sound accompanying creaking of the wooden floorboards under Kaira’s feet.

I was helping Kaira set up her study nook in the living room of their apartment. She had been planning on getting the work done with her impending semester exams. I knew she was already stressed about her studies; she had given up a lot to be doing what she was doing now, and I also needed to leave my apartment.

It was necessary for my sanity.

Because the more I stayed alone, the more I realized that there would be a special place for me in hell.

When I had left Henry’s office, I had hurried out of the building like my life was at stake. I was feeling stupid at my actions because I had left the man alone and desolated even though I knew he was feeling down. He was homesick, that I gathered, but it also dawned on me that maybe I was the only person he might have met outside of work.

That evening the sky was overcast with dark clouds looming above. My walk to the subway station was slow and I was lost in my thoughts. I was cruel in all senses. For the way I had behaved with him, I deserved the hate that Johanna kept directing at me. That would be my karma.

Like the heavens agreeing with me, the rain had poured down. People had scampered away or opened their umbrella’s. I let the rain drench me, hoping it will wash away the guilt that was slowly creeping in my mind.

“Oi,” Kaira tapped me on the shoulder with the binding of a book. I was pulled from my self-wallowing and stared at her, not even noticing that she was now standing near the shelves. “Where’s your head at today? You seem awfully quiet.”

I sighed. “Just thinking.”

“About all the sex that you are getting?” Her eyebrows wriggled with a crooked smile.

That just reminded me of Henry, and it reminded me of my pathetic behavior. It irked me on some level and without a second though I said, “Excuse me for having a life.” I instantly regretted saying that though. Kaira’s face fell but her nostrils flared with her turning towards the shelves to arrange her books.

I knew I just booked a presidential suite in the burning hole of hell.

“I’m sorry.” I stacked a few of her papers together. “I am troubled by a couple of things. I’m sorry for projecting.”

Kaira was a mother, she had spent a better part of her daughter’s childhood away from her, but she was used to the tantrums that the little one threw. I watched as she sighed and picked up more books from the floor where I was seated cross-legged. She took a deep breath, slowly exhaling it out. I knew she was taking a moment to calm herself down in hopes to stop herself from saying something that would make everything worse.

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” She took the papers I handed her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Did I want to talk about it? Because if I discussed the matter at hand, I was definitely going to come off as the bitch in the story. Kaira might rethink if I was worth spending time with.

But if I didn’t talk to anyone about it, I was only going to drive myself crazy with the internal battle I was having with myself. I could have confided in Macky; he did have more knowledge about the life choices I had made previously. But I worried that he was too smart to put two-and-two together and get things in order regarding Henry and me.

“It’s-It’s about a friend,” Naming him would make the matter too real for me. Also, I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to divulge about screwing my boss by taking names. “He-uh-he was I think…lonely, or at least missing home. I could have been a friend but instead I ran away.”

Kaira leaned against the desk with her arms folded over her chest. Her plump bosom lifted up and thanks to the two buttons undone, her cleavage peaked out. It was a bad time to be thinking about my cousin’s voluptuous body, but she did have the curves which she was not putting to use.

“Did you talk to him later? Maybe give an explanation about why you bailed out like that?”

I had given it a serious thought. While I was drenched from head to toe in the rain and standing near the door of the train, I had opened my chats with Henry on my phone. The conversation only consisted of us exchanging memes or the one image of him with the glass of scotch. My fingers had hovered over his name, itching to make a call or maybe leave a message. But there were no words to explain why I had left when he was probably drowning in loneliness, and most likely pissed off at me.

“No.” I mumbled, my voice feeble and weak. I was feeling like a literal piece of trash.

Kaira fluttered her eyes. She was definitely going to think less of me now. I waited for her to say something, hoping she could provide me peace of mind. In all honesty I was wishing for her to justify my actions.

“I won’t lie, what you did was inhumane.” I hung my head low with shame. When someone points it out, you feel the reality glaring back at you. “But I guess you weren’t ready to be his friend?”

I looked up at her. Her eyes were soft, not annoyed at the slightest. Standing tall she really took on the role of an elder sister. “I’m talking about my friend-” I weakly added.

Kaira tipped her head to the side, not buying the lie. “Come on, Anya. It’s the fuck buddy of yours, isn’t it?”

My cheeks heated at being caught red-handed. Henry was my fuck buddy, not really sure if I was deserving of being his ‘buddy’ anymore. I stood up from my place, rubbing my thighs because they were falling numb sitting on the floor.

“I am not entirely sure about the rules about a fuck buddy situation. But I can guess you are not ready to be his friend. Is it too much that you bargained for? Because if so, he at least deserved to know…considering that you both shared bodily fluids. Also, it would be rude to just run away like that.” She picked up the last of her books and aligned them properly on the dark wood shelves.

I thought on what she was saying. She was right. I should come clean to him at least. I should at least explain why I did what I did. I nodded my head at her with understanding.

“Hola, chicas!” The unmistakable sultry voice of Alexis sounded from the door. She peeled her wet jacket from her body and hung it on the coat rack. “I got Italian food for lunch from a few blocks away. Rain prevented me from walking any further.” She let her dirty blonde locks loose and swayed her head before making her way to the kitchen.

Alexis, the ever-perky little female, had become a part of my life since college. Even though we hung out with different sets of people, something about her pulled me towards her to make a friendship work. She was the party planner, the mother of all things fun and now she did it for a living, working for high end social events with clients hailing mostly from the Upper East Side.

Kaira smiled at her roommate as Alexis came to stand next to us. She had a lollipop in her mouth, hanging from the side of her lips.

“Anya, I heard from a little birdie that you landed a great deal with someone from your office.” Alexis wriggled her eyebrows with her pearly white teeth grinning at me.

Kaira’s eyes widened, and a faint blush crept up on her face. “Sorry, it came up when she was asking about-”

I raised my hand at her dismissively. I was not worried about Alexis finding out, she had done worst things in college, some which I had witnessed it myself. “It’s not Matthew, if you are curious.” I smirked at her. My mood lightening with the banter.

It was not difficult to notice the blush on the blonde bombshell. Her fair complexion made her cheeks and the tip of her nose turn red. She looked at Kaira too. My cousin raised both of her hands and sneaked out of the living room before either of us could say anything to her.

I watched with the smile still present on my face as Alexis twirled the end of a single strand of her hair around her finger. The blush kept on darkening, travelling down to her freckled chest. “Um… you know-”

“Yep.” I quipped. “I plan to bump you both together sometime. Does that sound good?”

“Uh… yeah…I guess.” She shrugged her shoulder, but the blush spread across her face and reddened her ears too. I chuckled at her flustered face. I had no idea a girl like Alexis would find plain ole Macky attractive enough to blush about.

“You can thank me later!” Came the voice of Kaira from the kitchen as both of us laughed together.

***

I was a fool to have agreed to meet Kaira and Matthew on the same day. Girly time never ended on time as planned. After lunch, I had ended up spending a good chunk of my afternoon at their apartment. We had hogged our Italian lunch, watched a movie and then lazed about sharing random facts about our childhood. Kaira seemed relaxed and Alexis seemed jittery at mentions of Matthew. Whereas I kept drifting towards thoughts of Henry with a new determination to set some things straight maturely.

I stood outside Macy’s watching people walk by me. Since it was the weekend, the area was crowded, and children were being loud with their parents. I watched a kid sit down in a puddle of water, throwing a tantrum and the mother being tired and fed up. I snickered to myself thinking Stephanie was going to be in her place a few years later.

I looked around the lot and then noticed Macky walk out the store, with a couple of bags in his hands. I was almost thirty minutes late. Our talks at Kaira’s apartment had gone on for a while and I had dozed off after both of the girls fell asleep on the floor. It was only when Macky called did I wake up and then hurried to travel from East Village to the Fifth Avenue.

Although the rain had stopped now, it was like mother nature was unleashing her wrath on me as I had struggled to make it to the subway.

“Thank you for showing up.” Macky rolled his eyes, pocketing his phone.

“I’m sorry. I got held up with Kaira. You know how girls can be when they get together.” I smiled innocently.

Macky rolled his eyes. “I got my shopping done without you. I have to get to Serena before the birthday party, or she will freak out.”

I scrunched my eyebrows together. It was the first time I was hearing about this woman. “Who’s Serena?”

“My girlfriend.”

“Since when?” I could not hide the surprise in my voice. This Macky, whom I saw every day at the office, was secretly in a relationship? I was puzzled and looked at him waiting for the answer.

Macky laughed loudly. He pointed at my face and cackled like I was a clown showing my tricks. “No. She’s my cousin. Remember? I told you about an aunt of mine who lives Downtown. Who helped me through college?”

I had no recollection about him mentioning about any cousin who was named Serena. But I nodded because I wanted to know what he was getting to.

“It’s her birthday and Serena’s her sixteen-year-old daughter who wanted me to pick up a gift for her.” He chortled because apparently something was funny about it. “Your face, man. Your face was pure hilarious.”

I rolled my eyes. I puffed up my cheeks. “Disgusting of you to call your supposed cousin your girlfriend.”

“Whatever. Your face looked so funny.” He bawled over with laughter again while I rolled my eyes and waited for him to calm down. It was not funny but looking at him laughing with tears beginning to form in his eyes, I couldn’t help but smile.

When the laughter died down, we made our way towards a café just across the street. I wanted to ask a favor from him and so I had arranged for us to meet. Macky and I usually ate out at restaurants, but it had been a while since we spent time outside office together. We ordered our coffee and snacks and exchanged the usual pleasantries like about our health and well-being.

“Do you remember Alexis?” I asked, adding a packet of sugar to my coffee.

“Mmhmm.” He nodded, sipping the steaming liquid and sighing with a smile.

“She has a bit of a crush on you.”

His innocent smile turned to a smirk, his eyes glinting in the sunlight peaking from the clouds. “Is that so? Too bad I am not looking for anything serious.”

I sipped from my cup, enjoying the sensation of liquid warming me up from within. “I don’t really know if what she wants is a relationship.”

Macky shrugged his shoulders and enjoyed his drink while I did the same. My mind was now forming coherent sentences without coming out too direct about what I was going to ask him. I had to be discreet, but also get the point across to him.

“Um, how are things with your new boss?” I tried to act casual, reaching for a cookie.

Macky raised an eyebrow. I tried to be as nonchalant as possible, biting in the soft texture of the vanilla laced cookie. “He’s good. We are nearly done updating Darren’s projects. He seems to be really putting his everything into work.”

I was aware of that. I was usually among the last people to leave the floor and on many occasions seen him coped up in his office. Even on Friday he had stayed late which made me wonder if he liked to spend time at the office rather than home.

“You guys didn’t take him out? Like an orientation in the department?”

Macky snorted. “How old do you think we are? It’s not a frat house. He’s our boss, Kundra oriented him in the department by employing him as the CFO.”

I was edging closer to what I wanted to ask him. Lunch time with Stephanie and the vicious women who loved to gossip, had affected me in some way. I was thinking about Henry and his situation in a new city, away from his homeland. Not a few years ago, if it weren’t for Jake, I would have been the same when I moved to New York from California.

“Maybe you guys can ask him out for a game night? I mean he’s new to the city. I haven’t seen him around anybody else.” I thanked the young waitress as she came with our order of blueberry pancakes and chicken BLT.

“You want me to be shunned by my colleagues? You want me to be the guy who gets the boss?”

“He could be your friend too.”

Macky shook his head and laughed. He broke a piece of his pancakes and stuffed them in his mouth. “You have lost your mind.” He said after swallowing, pointing his fork at me.

I chewed my bottom lip. Henry had looked hurt when he had mentioned how Macky and the others looked at him like their boss rather than a friend. I knew Macky was better than this. I had to convince him somehow to at least do something about Henry.

“Macky, we were newbies at some point in our lives. We had it easy because some of your friends had joined the company too. I had you and Steph.” I slid my plate and cup to the side, leaning in with my elbows on the table. “He left his home which is in an entirely different continent. The least you can do is be accommodating.”

I watched him closely, trying to read his expressions. He was definitely thinking over it. He was too big a softy to not give it a thought. But I was also worried about him saying no. After a long-drawn pause and a sigh, Macky nodded.

“Yeah, I guess I can.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at him. Macky wasn’t cold-hearted, he had taken care of me when I was lonely. He was definitely the type to be a nurturer.

“Why care about Henry so much though? What’s going on?” He asked with his eyebrow raised again. Now he was trying to join dots.

I shrugged. Keeping my smile in place, I leaned back on the chair. “Maybe I can gain some brownie points with some good deeds.”

“If you think we are going to heaven, you are wrong.” He laughed.

Shrugging my shoulder and reaching for the BLT, I cocked an eyebrow at him, “Who said anything about heaven? I only wanted to be spared from being burnt alive in hell.”

He shook his head and went back to his pancakes, thankfully dropping the subject. I dug into my BLT too, content with one step from making up for my heartlessness with Henry. The massive guilt was shrinking, even if only by an inch.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #au henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill au

115 notes · View notes

ceoofuwu · 4 years

Text

𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒 ;; 𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘬𝘪 𝘹 𝘧.𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟏.𝟔𝐤

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you may be Bakugo’s sister but, no one in U.A. had ever known about your existence, until you decided to pay a visit... little did you know that Bakugo wasn’t the only familiar person there...

𝐓.𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cursing (there’s Bakugo here, you shouldn’t expect any less lmao)

«What?! Bakugo has a sister?!» Mina exclaimed as she entered the living room, hardly having heard the rest of the discussion.

She sat herself cheerfully next to Kirishima, who had actually made space for her, quite eager to keep up with the gossip.

Not that she didn’t have every reason to. Bakugo was mysterious, kept things simple and to himself, always maintaining a distant and goal-oriented attitude, which didn’t allow for much personal investment. Therefore, wasn’t it reasonable for any given “friend” of his to be bound by curiosity?

«Oh shut up! As if you should care, raccoon eyes» he retorted coldly, with a casual murderous glare following shortly.

However, with her happy-go-lucky mindset and the habit of ignorantly listening to the merciless insults of the young hero, the pinkette didn’t mind him at all.

«I should, because when I become a pro hero, she might use some rescuing from me!» she announced, pointing to her gleeful self.

«Thanks, but I believe I can manage on my own».

A smooth, velvet voice cut through the room as the tapping of graceful steps reverberated. A pair of delicate legs strolling confidently, accompanying a perfectly-shaped body giving off waves of tremendous fortitude.

During the time Mina had spent in the Academy, she had never witnessed, not once Bakugo, the Bakugo, expressing his fear. Now, in the face of his sister, he was wearing a mask of exactly that feeling; terror.

«Is that… are you…» she attempted, feeling solely gaps of air leaving her mouth in stupefaction.

You ceased your pacing, offering everyone a friendly smile, escorted with a gentle wave of your hand.

«Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Y/n».

«…you can also call her dumbass» Bakugo mumbled between clenched teeth, intending to make an impression of dominance but also wishing to hide from the tyrant of a woman opposite of him.

«Shut your hole boom-boom idiot!»

An array of giggles filled the air, lighting up the ambiance and therefore breaking the ice, before you noticed a black-haired boy observing you in what seemed to be… dread?

«So she’s also taken after your terribly unhealthy anger issues, huh?» his eyes shifted to your smirking brother while he spoke in a modest and careful voice, as if he had selected his words with extreme cautiousness, one by one.

Another polite smile tugged at your lips, despite feeling quite displeased by your first impression. «I’m nothing like this walking temper tantrum», your gaze travelled around the room, inspecting it and gradually getting used to the surroundings, «…so you are his class… mates…» your voice slowly faded away as you met with one specific, too familiar person in the room.

It couldn’t be… he couldn’t be here… or, could he? As far as you’re concerned you’re completely sane, which only means that you weren’t hallucinating. A lump had suddenly emerged in your throat and you’d swear your heart had skipped several beats upon realizing what was happening.

«Why the hell are you staring at dunce face?!» Bakugo yelled, fury steeping his features as the urge to protect you took over.

«Dunce… what?»

Denki slightly rolled his eyes, although he seemed to have gotten accustomed to his nickname, and sighed as he struggled to appear collected and unbothered. «Me».

You scoffed and immediately covered your mouth with your hand, to prevent an inappropriate laughter from coming out. You didn’t really enjoy making fun of others, especially people like him who stood so close to you, but… this just sounded too fitting.

Denki blushed and immediately looked away, in his miserable attempt to be “discreet”.

«Do you guys know each other?» a familiar-looking redhead boy enquired, pointing between you and Denki. Your acquaintance had his mouth half-hanging open, as if he was about to say something, until he met with the frightful message in your look.

No.

You were quick to turn and face the redhead, with calmness written in your features and say: «Not at all, I mean… I hardly know any of you… um… Kirishima, isn’t it?»

The boy’s crimson eyes widened in surprise by the mention of his name.

Seems like I got it right.

«My brother tends to mention you a lot at home…» yet another wave of surprise washing over him, «…mostly how shitty your hair is…» you paused and pondered a little on your words, «…although I beg to differ» you beamed.

Kirishima’s face resembled a mixture of contentedness and dejection. You supposed and hoped that the former was on you.

Even so, for some odd reason, Bakugo was still keeping an eye on Denki. Not that the latter was acting with any prudence whatsoever, what with his nervously avoiding everyone’s eyes in the room.

«So… um… is there a bathroom… somewhere around here..?» you asked timidly, feeling the need to freshen yourself up and relieve some of the tension of this fairly messed up situation.

Soon after, thanks to your brother’s interference, you arrested yourself in that longed-for bathroom, taking a breather in silence and clearing your mind.

Before arriving at U.A. you weren’t really sure how to feel. On the one hand, you genuinely anticipated finally meeting all those amazing, gifted teens that had got themselves involved into so many scandalous episodes. On the other hand, you were doubting your social capabilities of interaction and trembled at the mere thought of stumbling over your words, or making a mess of something as simple a task as that, in general. In fact, an array of worst case scenarios was bombarding your head, even until the second you stepped your foot in that room.

However, discovering that Denki, your Denki, was actually one of the renowned class 1-A students?

That seemed nearly inconceivable to you.

Indeed, you had been dating with the guy for several months now, yet, without neither of you realizing, the hero studies topic had never been brought up; at least not in terms of specification.

So… Denki was a basically a hero… someone capable of coming to your rescue at any given moment… a hero…

«I hope you’re lost in your thoughts about me» an all too familiar voice was heard from the door.

Speak of the devil and the devil will come.

«Denki, what the hell?! How-- why did you come here?!» you called frantically, all the while taking alarming looks around to make sure your privacy was guaranteed.

«Don’t panic. We’re alone. Besides, my dorm is nearby~» he chimed, taking small steps closer to you simultaneously.

«So you used your dorm as an excuse to…?»

«Don’t play dumb, Y/n… you know better than anyone why I’m here…» your boyfriend whispered while slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his slim body.

You felt the temperature rising in your cheeks and your mind suddenly going blank, as though a fuzzy mist had been blurring everything. You had decided to come here merely to relax before proceeding to make new acquaintances. You couldn’t figure out whether this was happening due to Denki being one hell of a horny pervert or his being a complete and utter idiot. Come to think of it, both statements were suitable at the moment.

In the meantime, Denki was ranting about his plans, his dorm and many other stuff that you didn’t care too much to pay attention to.

«You are a dunce face» you giggled, trying not to focus too much on his golden gaze, which almost pierced holes through your own eyes.

«What did you say?» his face was beginning to distort into a suggestive expression, his lips gradually stretching into a devilish smile.

«You… are… a dunce face» you repeated teasingly and more confidently this time, despite feeling the embarrassment crawling up on you on the inside.

«A dunce face…» he hummed after you, before pushing you gently against a wall, with you hardly realizing, «I wonder where you picked that up from…» he teased, his fingertips sliding underneath your shirt grazing your back, sending minor waves of electricity down your spine with every brush whilst eliciting slight gasps.

Your lust-blown eyes remained locked the entire time, forming some kind of connection, as your breaths were little by little merging into one and the space between you was getting smaller by every second passing. You couldn’t hold your urgencies back anymore; your arms glided on his shoulders, eventually getting wrapped around his neck, as your head titled to the side allowing to the blonde to lean in and touch his lips on yours.

The subtle electroshocks being produced on your back combined with the feeling of soft lips dancing with even softer ones, wasn’t aiding you at all to restrain that low, throaty moan that escaped from your vocals.

The kiss was slow and yet, steeped with passion, dripping with all these raw emotions that were generated every time you’d encounter one another. Denki had you melting, desperately hanging on to him, as if he was your life line. As he nibbled on your bottom lip, you broke apart, both panting, your lungs burning for air, prior to your foreheads touching intimately, trying to calm your rapidly beating hearts.

«You should lock that doo—«

«GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER, DUNCE FACE!»

Before you even had the time to process what had just happened, Denki had done a runner, sprinting as fast as he could as he was being chased down by an infuriated Bakugo. It’s a pity you were marooned like this but, oh well, he was the one who had left the door unclosed….

Hope you enjoyed! Leave a heart, comment, reblog! 💕

116 notes · View notes

kaalamarii · 4 years

Note

How would the brothers and Diavolo react to an s/o that is usually really chill, but when she gets angry, she could even rival Satan?

Thanks for being my very first request!

I don’t think I followed your prompt completely, but I tried to at least stay close. I didn’t do Diavolo cause I’m not super confident in writing him yet. 😳

Hope you still like it!

Lucifer

Lucifer basically lives with a bunch of children, so you being easy going is a breath of fresh air for him.

You didn’t bother him as he worked late in his study, often leaving you to yourself in his bedroom to wait for him.

Still, you worried about him.

You’d tell him he needed more sleep or that he was working too much.

He’d brush you off which kind of annoyed you but you knew there was no use arguing with the demon.

You were super happy one weekend when you woke up, surprised to see him still in bed with you.

“You’re usually up by now, working.”

He nodded. “Diavolo wanted me to take a break this weekend. He said I was overworking myself.”

Lucifer went to kiss you but you moved away. “Hold up.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“I’ve been telling you that for weeks and you basically tell me to fuck off…

But now when Diavolo says the same thing you listen?”

He laughs. “Well, yes, I answer to Diavolo. You’re just a human, you don’t know anything.”

You scoff. You shouldn’t be surprised by his douchebaggery but you are.

“You’re such a dick sometimes.”

He rolls his eyes and you get out of bed, huffing around the room as you get dressed.

“Really, MC, can you quit being so dramatic?”

You glare so intensely at him that it’s amazing you didn’t burn holes into him.

“Fuck you.”

Lucifer wants to punish you for your rudeness, but he can’t help but smirk. You’re pretty adorable right now.

He lays back in bed, knowing you’ll be back soon.

Mammon

You’re always up for Mammon’s crazy adventures. You’re like his sidekick, sitting back and letting him do his thing.

When things go wrong, you don’t make fun of him, call him a moron, or anything. You just smile at him and comfort him.

He crosses a line one day when you come home to find him in your bedroom, going through your stuff. He has a very special family heirloom of yours in his hand and you know his plans for it.

Mammon is instantly stuttering, trying to find some excuse for why he has your stuff in his hand. “H-hey babe. I was just missing you and wanting somethin’ of yours to remind me of you!”

You’re having none of it.

Your face turns red, and your eyes are like daggers coming for him.

“I know you are not thinking of selling my shit.”

You back the stuttering demon into a corner, hand reached out.

“Give it back. Now.”

Mammon looks around, refusing to meet your eyes. Damn, this human is scary.

“Mammon, give it back!” You reach over to snatch it out of his hand.

Mammon yelps and drops it, pushing past you and running out of your room.

Later when you’ve calmed down a bit you get a text from Lucifer. “The issue has been dealt with.”

He sends a picture of Mammon hanging upside down from the ceiling.

Usually you feel bad when this happens, but right now, you laugh.

Serves him right.

Leviathan

Levi loves that you’re so low maintenance.The two of you can play games or just chill and watch anime together. The two of you are happy doing your own things.

The first time he sees you angry, he’s in his bathtub reading manga while you’re playing some game on one of his consoles. You’re having a difficult time fighting a particular boss and doing your best to stay patient.

It doesn’t last long.

You let out a loud, “WHAT THE FUCK!” as you lose once again, violently throwing the controller down.

Levi jumps.

You are fuming, balling your hands up into fists, your knuckles turning white.

He stares at you, mouth open, face pink, frozen. He doesn’t know what to do.

He looks to the controller on the floor, then back at you, annoyance on his face.

“Heyyyy! You could’ve broken my controller!”

You glare at him and he shrinks into his tub, hiding his face in his manga. You’re too angry to feel bad right now, and you’ve seen him throw it around several times.

You’re breathing heavily. Levi gets out of his tub and wraps you in his arms.

“Let me join the game. We’ll beat him together.”

Satan

Obviously Satan is the angry one between the two of you.

You often have to calm him down when he is upset.

You’re the perfect balance to his wrath, he thinks.

Until the first time he sees yours.

He had been in an argument with Lucifer and took it out on you, snapping at you for some ridiculous reason.

He’s been an asshole all day because of his fight with Lucifer, and you’ve tried your best to not take it personally. But for whatever reason, his comment sends you over the edge.

You suddenly let out a loud growl and reach over, slapping him across the face.

Satan instantly puts his hand up to his cheek, over your fingerprints. He is looking at you, wide eyed.

His shock wears off quickly, replaced with anger. His horns come out.

To be honest, you’re really scared. But too upset to back down.

“Next time you want to do that, reconsider.”

He’s towered over you despite not being too much taller than you.

“The next time you want to talk shit, reconsider.”

Satan’s face softens and he actually laughs.

He might be the Avatar of Wrath, but he can’t stay mad at you. He admires your stupidity bravery.

“Consider us even.”

Asmodeus

Asmo loves that you’re so easy going. You let him get flirty and snuggly with you. He feels completely loved and accepted with you.

You’re pretty understanding when the two of you go out somewhere and he is crowded by admirers and you don’t complain when he eats it up and flirts back a bit.

One night Asmo’s looking especially gorgeous and somebody steals him away from you to drink and dance with him.

You’re used to being the third wheel of your own relationship and you don’t usually take it personally. You knew going in that Asmo loved attention and agreed not to get in the way as long as he remained respectful of the relationship.

He’s usually pretty good at stopping his fans when they get too handsy but right now he’s a bit too drunk.

You cross your arms, watching some random succubus grinding with your man. You wait patiently for him to put a stop to it.

When she kisses him, you see red.

You basically run over, shoving her off of Asmo.

“Back. the. Fuck. up.”

As much as Asmo wants to watch you fight for him, he doesn’t want you to get hurt. He grabs you, pulling you away as you flail your arms and legs, trying to release yourself and go after the succubus.

He sets you down once you’re outside.

You’re still fuming, pacing back and forward. You’re yelling at him, reminding him of the boundaries the two of you set when you agreed to be with him.

He doesn’t hear you because he’s drunk and he’s so enamored with how adorable you look.

Also, he’s flattered that you’re so jealous.

Beelzebub

Beel finds you sweet and funny and easy to talk to.

You share your food with him. You even let him have the bigger half.

One day in the kitchen, you are making cookies. It’s a special recipe that’s been passed down through generations of your family. Beel is so ready for them, sitting and waiting for them to be done baking.

You pull them out of the oven and the demon drools. “Those look and smell so good.”

“You can have some if you want.”

“Thanks, MC.”

You turn to wash your hands and start cleaning up the flour and other ingredients that may have fallen onto the floor and counter.

You hear a crash and turn back to see the cookie sheet on the floor and Beel with a mouth full.

“Did you eat all of them?”

He smiles. “They were delicious!”

You know it’s a bit petty, but you can’t help but feel a bit of rage take over you.

“But I didn’t even get any…” Your voice is low, super low.

Beel looks at you, confused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

You stomp your foot, basically throwing a fucking tantrum, your eyes tearing up. “You freaked out and destroyed the kitchen AND my room when we had your custard but I don’t even get a bite of the cookies that I made?!”

Beel frowns. He understands why you’re angry and he hates that he’s the reason.

“I’ll help you make some more,” he tells you once you’re cool enough to listen to him. “I won’t eat any of them, I promise.”

You take him up on his offer and although it’s hard for him, he sticks to his word.

You’re impressed with his self control. “Okay, you can have one of mine.”

“Nah, they’re yours,” he says, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

Belphegor

Belphie was surprised by how well the two of you got along, considering he lied to you from your first meeting…

And, you know, he straight up fucking killed you.

The two of you had grown closer and closer, and he could often be found snuggling up to you and napping with his head resting on you.

Still, he noticed you still got tense when the two of you were intimate.

He tried to be understanding, but it hurt.

One night the two of you were on your bed, kissing. You seemed to be relaxed, so he crept his hand up your shirt.

You didn’t mean to, but you jumped.

Though you did want him to touch you, you couldn’t help but have flashbacks of the night he killed you when you felt his hands on you.

Belphie sighed, pulling away from you. “You still don’t trust me!”

“Belphie…” you groaned, putting a hand on your head. “Please, can we not do this right now.”

“If we’re going to be together, we should talk about this, right?”

You rolled your eyes and sat up to face him. “You really want to talk about that?”

He nods. “You’re still so awkward around me.”

You scoffed. “Are you kidding me? You lied to me from the beginning and you fucking KILLED me.”

“Then why are we even trying to be together?”

Ugh, you found him so attractive but he pissed you off so much sometimes.

You stand up, opening your door. “Leave.”

“MC…”

He comes over to you, trying to hug you. You push him away.

“Fuck off, Belphegor!”

It was mean. It was inappropriate. But you didn’t care. You weren’t ready to talk to him and you obviously weren’t ready to be in a relationship with him.

Belphie sighed, leaving to go back to his room.

He was hurt but he was willing to wait for you. In the meantime, he’d be patient and give you space.

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obswd

468 notes · View notes

neon-junkie · 4 years

Note

hnghhgngh in that case would you do a fem version of the one Flaco fic where he cums inside the reader a whole lot hnghgnggh

it’s 6:30 in the morning and here i am, finally using this as an excuse to write some young!Flaco. i also adore the idea of Flaco being such a loose cannon and smug bastard in his younger days so gotta include that shit. also i have the hots for that bottle shooting mexican stranger u can find so mmmmmmmm <3 here u go :)

"It happened again!" Flaco snapped as he stormed into your cabin, the sound of his voice and your door slamming open making you jump. You should probably start locking your door during the day since Flacos big entrances are a common occurrence, always making you jump out of your skin.

"What happened?" you ask as you look up from your desk.

He's sulking, stood in front of you with his arms crossed. "That damn cabrón and his stupid bottles," Flaco grumbles as he pulls out one of the desk chairs, sitting next to you. "He beat me, again!"

Ugh, not this again. This isn't the first time Flaco's thrown a temper tantrum about being beat by this stranger that he keeps bumping into. Flaco's very eager to become the best gunslinger there's ever been. He's already famous, more so after that cigarette card company approached him, asking for his portrait for their famous gunslinger collection. The day he strolled into your cabin holding that card is a day you'll never forget; you'd never seen a man look so smug and proud, holding the little portrait of himself in front of your face. He spent hours staring at it, smiling at himself, making you shake your head.

"You'll get there," you sigh. It's hard to comfort a man when all he wants to do is scream at his own reflection. When Flaco's in one of these moods, you just let him burn himself out then comfort him afterward. Simply stroke his hair as he cuddles up to you and tell him over and over how impressive he is with his guns. That'll soothe him.

"It's stressing me out, chica," Flaco tells you.

"I can tell," you sarcastically reply.

"I need to burn off some steam. Will you help me?" Flaco asks you, his eyes meeting yours after he rubs his face, probably trying to rub the stress from his eyes, his hands brushing over his short stubble and round jawline.

"I'll do whatever you need, Flaco," you tell him. You were expecting him to take you hunting or help him practice his shooting, but it's a pleasant surprise when Flaco picks you up off your chair and carries you over to your bed, quickly chucking his jacket and hat to the floor before he begins his way with you.

And now you're here, face down on your bed, a pile of pillows underneath your hips that are thankfully more than enough to cushion you, preventing your hips from bruising even more as they're not slamming into the mattress. Flaco snaps his hips down into you again, grumbling behind you, holding his length deep inside of you as he pumps out another load.

You've been like this for what feels like hours, Flaco letting all his 'stress' out on you. You don't even think he's stressed anymore at this point, just over-stimulated and milking himself for all he's worth. You're not complaining though, loving the attention and Flaco's natural dominant aura. You haven't come as much as Flaco has, and you question how this man is still going after his fourth load? maybe fifth? who knows.

"You got room for one more?" Flaco grumbles from behind you, leaning down so he can speak against your ear, his large frame towering over you, the hairs on his chest brushing against your back.

"Mhmm, yes," you moan, knowing you have another orgasm on edge.

"Good, good. You're so good for me, chica. So obedient, such a buena niña," Flaco says as his hips begin moving again. "The way you're letting me use you like this is just... I have no words for it," Flaco sighs. "I might wife you, you know. No way am I ever going to find another woman who's so kind and tender, but loves being fucked like the puta she is," he chuckles.

You'd slept with Flaco the first night you met him. He'd seen you in the saloon and just had to have you. This was over a year ago, his personality being even more of a loose cannon than he is now. He strode over and fawned over you all night, though you never felt creeped out by his smothering. Maybe it was that gorgeous glisten in his eyes, or his over-powering height, or those fluffy chaps he wore. There was something about him that drew you to him, and ever since then Flaco's found himself waltzing into your cabin every few weeks, spending a few days with you every time.

Another snap of his hips draws you out from your reminiscence, bringing you back to the reality that you're currently in: being used as a cum dumpster for 'stress relief' by your sweetheart.

"You're quiet for once, amor," Flaco tells you, his voice lower and husker than usual. You adore him even more when he sounds like this, making your body tremble and your pussy ache.

"I'm just enjoying the ride," you reply, looking up over your shoulder to see Flaco smirking at you.

"You enjoying this? Having Flaco pump load after load into you?" he asks. You lift your body up slightly so Flaco can lean down and kiss along your neck, leaving another hickey next to the one from last week.

"Is it wrong if I do?" you ask, enjoying the way his stubble tickles your skin, not being scratchy for once.

"Not at all, amor. I love it as much as you do," Flaco tells you, lips still against your skin.

"I might have to stress you out myself if it means you'll fuck me like this."

Flaco lets out a chuckle. He snaps his hips against yours, pushing a yelp from your lips. Flaco then moves one of his hands off your hips, placing it firmly between your shoulder blades and pushing you back down into the mattress, your ass still raised in the air for him to enjoy.

Flaco fucks you with quick, deep thrusts, accidentally pushing his former loads out of you, his cum dripping from your hole, down over your clit, and onto your pillow. You'd normally kick up a fuss every time Flaco ruins your bedding, but you're not fussed right now as coincidentally, it was laundry day. You're definitely going to throw yourself into the wash after this, you'll need it.

The way Flaco rolls his hips is so perfect, brushing against your g-spot, pushing moan after moan from your lips. He adores the noises you make, letting out his own mix of a grunt and a moan, often through gritted teeth when he's fucking you as ferally as he is now.

"Mierda!" Flaco almost shouts as he continues to pound you. Yes, your pussy aches but you'll deal with that later. There's no way you're going to ask Flaco to stop for anything, even if the cabin was on fire.

You shift your weight, trying to slide your hand down your body but Flaco slaps your hand away. "Here, let me," he tells you, moving one hand from your hips to reach underneath you and firmly press on your clit, rubbing it just how you like it, making your thigh muscles tremble as you moan his name.

"That's right! Come on, chica. I love that feeling of you clenching around me. You'll do it once more for me, won't you?" Flaco asks. How could you deny him?

"Flaco, I'm close," you sigh, eyes shutting as the pressure builds up inside of you. "Fuck!" you yelp as your orgasm hits you, your body spasming as your walls tighten around Flacos' thick length.

He lets out a long moan, pushing his cock as far as it'll go, spilling one last load inside of you. Flaco seems worn out this time, leaning his body over yours, his sweaty forehead pressed between your shoulder blades as he lets out a string of deep breaths. You can still feel his cock throbbing inside of you, pushing out whatever was left.

Eventually, Flaco comes down from his high and lifts his head up, placing a kiss on your back before he sits upright, pulling his length from you and rolling onto the bed. He's finally exhausted, his eyes shut as his chest rises and falls, trying to calm his racing heart down.

You pull the cover off your pillow, using that to wipe yourself down before chucking it to the floor to be dealt with later. Flaco already has his arm out waiting for you, so you snuggle up to him, practically lying on his chest. Your body begins to feel exhausted, and Flaco already looks like he's passed out from exhaustion. Surprisingly, he hasn't, as he places a kiss to your forehead.

"I don't think I'm stressed anymore, chica," he tells you, making you laugh.

"At least we know how to relieve you now," you add.

"Mhmm. I'll try not to get stressed too often. Don't want to wear you out too much," he tells you, placing another kiss to your forehead.

"How considerate of you," you joke.

"Only for you, amor."

The two of you are quick to fall asleep on each other, exhausted after todays session. At least you both now know how to calm Flaco down in the future.

60 notes · View notes

greenbergwrites · 4 years

Note

Oh lord but alternate/future lumberjack!bucky storyline, Steve IS the spoiled omega runt of the pack, no one CAN refuse him anything, Bucky is just all indulgent heart eyes. Thank you for this gift of a thought omg

I gotta be honest with you, friend, as soon as I wrote that bit, my brain was plagued by the idea of an AU where Steve grew up as the spoiled Omega runt

Maybe his pack is a mountain-dwelling one or maybe they have a ceremonial building where the hold gatherings, but either way, I imagine this rustic sort of banquet hall.

There’s a dais at one end, where Steve lounges on a chaise-like piece of furniture while he’s doted on by selected pack members. Dressed in a light, flowy tunic that borderlines indecent, tbh. I’m gonna be honest, a lot of this imagery is very Ancient Greek and/or Roman-inspired, I’m a slut for it and I’ll come up with whatever excuses I have to in order to get what I want.

ANYWAYS.

Steve’s lounging on one side of the dais, and on the other side, his parents (the head of the pack) sit in their throne-like seats. Steve is of mating age now, and this party is with that in mind.

Suitors from all over come for the chance to be the one to win his hand.

As a runt, he’s special, coveted. I imagine Omega runts to be very much like nymphs, creatures of hedonistic pleasure. Absolutely fucking spoiled.

Having one mate into a pack says a lot about the pack itself. Not only are they calm and stable, but it speaks of their pack bonds, their generosity, and loving nature. A runt has to be cared for by their pack; given the choice, one would never choose a pack where they were neglected.

Among the crowd, there’s Bucky. I imagine him much like Wakanda!Bucky, bearded and solemn. This world-weary older wolf, the kind of air about him that says he’s seen too much, that says there’s blood on his hands that weighs heavily on him.

He’s probably called James in this ‘verse, Bucky is not a very dignified name for the dignified wolf I imagine.

I don’t think he’s there as a suitor himself. Maybe he came as part of another Alpha’s entourage, or whatever.

At some point, Steve probably gets tired of being pandered to and goes outside for some fresh air. Only one of the Alphas follows him to harass him, and when Steve rebuffs him, it probably gets physical.

Before the guy can do much more than yank on Steve’s arm, James is there, this silent, deadly force. He doesn’t mean to knock the guy out, but that’s what happens, and then it’s just the two of them standing there.

Steve trembles with left over adrenaline. He hugs himself around the middle, this picture of vulnerability, but he tries to sound braver than he feels when he addresses the Alpha who helped him.

“I suppose now you’ll regale me with tales of how you’ll protect me if I chose you?” He asks haughtily, but even he can hear the tremor in his voice. There’ll be no fooling the Alpha. “Or demand my promise of mating in exchange for your help? Go on, then. Tell me how you’re the only appropriate mate for me.”

It’s been happening all night, one Alpha after the other doing little more than ridiculing the other guests, vying for even a moment of his attention so they can tell him how he deserves a mate like them.

This man does none of those things. Silently, he removes his cloak and drapes it around Steve’s shoulders, pulling it closed to shield him from the rising wind.

“Any man who would offer help, but only at a price, is not a man worthy of a mate,” he says quietly. “But most certainly, he would not be a man worthy of an Omega.”

Steve blinks in surprise, staring up into bright, hazel eyes. A flush creeps along his skin, warmth flaring in his belly despite the cool night air.

“Is that so?” He asks, the haughtiness gone from his tone.

The man nods, those intense eyes still on him, and Steve finds himself looking away. His heart beats faster, and now, he trembles for an entirely different reason.

“It’s certainly an interesting tactic you have,” he says, glancing out at the surrounding forest. “Appearing to be the more noble of my suitors.”

He expects the man to ask if his ploy is working. Steve has to say that yes, yes it is. Here is a man calm and settled, a real Alpha rather than a pup playing at one and throwing tantrums when his games are ignored.

But once again, the man doesn’t do what he expects.

“If I am noble at all, it is not as a suitor,” he murmurs. “I haven’t come to claim you, little one.”

Steve stills, staring up at the man in shock.

“No?” He asks softly. “Then why have you come?”

Plush lips tick up in the corner, an almost imperceptible smile.

“I heard tell of an Omega coming of age,” he answers. “A runt whose beauty went unrivaled. Your parents would only permit one suitor per pack. I’ve been told of the many fights that broke out between packmates, all trying to win the chance to be your mate. I saw a few, even. I had to set eyes on the one who would cause such a ruckus and see if the stories were true.”

Steve licked his lips. “And your thoughts now?”

The Alpha reaches out to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind Steve’s ear, his calloused fingers brushing lightly along Steve’s jaw.

“I think,” he murmurs quietly, “that even a single night spent between your thighs would be an undeserved heaven. But a lifetime? Being accepted as your mate, earning your affection? Having you proudly wear a claiming mark?”

His fingers drop to the place on Steve’s neck where such a mark would go, before they leave him completely, his hand falling back to his side. Steve immediately misses his touch.

“‘Unworthy’ is not a strong enough word,” the Alpha says. “You are a treasure, little one. Beautiful and sweet, but that sweetness must be earned. You’re right to make us earn it. An Omega’s submission is a gift. Anyone who doesn’t work to gain it doesn’t deserve it. Remember that.”

Silently, Steve nods. He has nothing to say, not a single thing. He only knows the flush to his skin and the warmth in his belly, hardening his cock and wetting his hole. Part of him wants to bare his throat right then, wants this Alpha to take him to the ground and mate him right there in the cool night air.

But a bigger part of him thrills at the idea of being courted by this Alpha. Of making him earn it, just as he said.

“Come, little one,” the Alpha murmurs, one of those big hands cupping his elbow. Steve allows himself to be guided out of the wind, toward the doors. “It’s cold out, let’s get you where it’s warm.”

It’s only when Steve stumbles over a booted foot that he even remembers the man who’d accosted him. He glances from the unconscious body to his savior.

“What about him?” He asks, and the haughtiness is such a distant memory that Steve can’t believe it was ever there. Now, his voice is soft and hesitant. He trusts the Alpha to take care of him, to guide him.

Something flashes in the Alpha’s eyes.

“Don’t worry about him,” he says. “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of. Inside now. Your suitors await you.”

Steve wants to laugh. There will be no choosing among the pups inside.

As he steps over the threshold, he turns back to face his Alpha.

“What’s your name?” He asks.

The Alpha blinks, as if he surprised. He reaches for Steve’s hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

“Forgive me,” he says, “I should have introduced myself before. My name is James.”

Steve’s hand still tingles long after the Alpha has left him go, the memory of his lips a brand on his skin. He doesn’t bother with the pretenders any longer, ignoring their attempts at his attention.

He’s already made his choice. His future mate’s name is James.

#nani asks #greenberg replies #omega runt steve #a/b/o dynamics #suitor james

144 notes · View notes

dreamingofmilk · 5 years

Text

Change

Synopsis: After being holed up with Bucky for a while you were excited for a girls night with your friends. Too bad Bucky had other plans.

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 1540

ENJOY!!

You were so excited. It was Friday night, and you were going out with your girls for a night on the town. You and Bucky have been boo’d up for a while, and your friends were complaining because they never saw you. The honeymoon phase of the relationship hit both of you HARD. You both couldn’t keep your hands, and other parts, off of each other. But you promised your friends that tonight they would have you all to themselves.

You went online shopping last weekend and bought a really sexy dress to go out with your friends in. The lingerie you wore underneath it had been bought more for Bucky’s benefit than yours. You couldn’t wait for him to see it when you made it back home. You made sure to buy the one in his favorite color.

The dress itself was your favorite color, and it hugged your body in all the right places. Just short enough to tease but long enough that you didn’t have to worry about a wardrobe malfunction once you got drunk. You took the last sip of the alcohol concoction Bucky had made for you to pregame with. You breathed a sigh of relief relaxing and stretching your fingers as you had just finished your hair and makeup. You grabbed your coat and made your way downstairs to say goodnight to Bucky.

He was sprawled on the couch watching the game. He had on those damned grey sweatpants, the ones that made his dick look extra good. The temptation made part of you said ‘fuck tonight, let’s just sit in his lap and get some action’, but you knew you’d never hear the end of it from your friends, so you sucked up your growing horniess and ignored the growing wetness in your underwear. You made your way over to him and leaned down to give him a kiss. “I’m leaving now babe. I won’t be back until pretty late so don’t wait up for me.”

He shook his head and met your eyes, a slight pout on his lips, “You know I can’t sleep without you. I don’t mind waiting up for you.” As he finished his thought, he finally took in your outfit. “Wait, Y/N. What are you wearing?”

You backed up and spun for him, “It’s cute right?” Fashion Nova really outdid themselves with this one.

He frowned, “You look good in anything, you know that. This dress is on another level though. You look sexy as fuck baby.” He took a while to really look you over, taking in all of the parts of your outfit that caught his attention. His smirk quickly morphed into a gaze that could melt steel. ”Change.”

You clutched your pearls, and almost choked on your words “Excuse me? Last I checked I was a grown woman. I’m gonna wear whatever the fuck I want Barnes! I don’t give a damn if I went to the club buck naked!” You’d be damned if he tried to police what you wear. This dress was cute as fuck and you took hours to get ready for tonight. There was no way he was going to ruin your night before it really got started.

Bucky stood up and got in your face. “Y/N it seems you forgot who the fuck I am. Am I a fucking joke to you? Do you honestly think I’m playing with you? You’ll do what the fuck I tell you to! I’ll be damned if my girl goes to a club without me looking like that.” Bucky gestured wildly to your outfit.

You scoffed loudly and rolled your eyes. “You don’t run me Barnes.” You whispered quietly.

Bucky stood up menacingly, his body towering over yours. A dark chuckle left his soft pink lips.

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. Either you take your pretty little ass upstairs and change or I’m going to make you and you’re gonna wish you could walk tomorrow.” By the time he finished he was so close your noses were touching and his metal hand was wrapped around your neck and tightening by the second.

Ok so maybe you didn’t think this through. On one hand, you did really want to wear this dress, and you didn’t like that he was forcing you not to wear it since you bought it for this night specifically. But now you were wet as fuck and lowkey didn’t even want to go to the club anymore. You wanted Bucky to fucking wreck you. God, what was wrong with you. What was this man doing to you?

You had to stay strong though. If you let him get away with this now, he’d think it was ok to do it all the time. And there was no way he’d agree with a lot of the things in your closet.

You looked him in the eyes, your teeth clenched, “Like I said, Barnes, I am grown and you are not going to tell me what to wear. If you’re going to have a temper tantrum whenever I go out without you, then we have a problem.” The hand on your throat tightened slightly.

Bucky’s metal hand moved down your neck to the sweetheart neckline of your dress. His face apologetic. “You’re right, I’m sorry babe. I just don’t like the idea of all those guys coming up to you. You’re mine.”

You grabbed his face and gave him several short kisses, “I know, and I understand that baby, I do, but you have to trust me. You know I’m not going to entertain anybody but you.” You gave him a long sloppy kiss, hoping it would help calm him down. When you pulled away, he was smiling.

“You’re right, and I know you won’t entertain any of them. Because you won’t be able to.” And with that he gripped the neckline of your dress and pulled straight down, ripping the dress in half. You watched in shock as he completely tore the fabric apart, all with one pull.

You went to hit him. “You fucking asshole! That was a brand new dress!”

He caught your hand right before it could connect. “I told you if you didn’t change I was going to make you change. I meant what the fuck I said Y/N. Now since you can’t follow directions I guess I have to take care of that too.”

Bucky took a step back to admire you. The look in his eyes made your nipples harden under the lace of the new bra you wore.

“Damn you look good. All this for me baby?” He pulled you close and gripped your ass.

You struggled to pull away.

“It was! Before you decided to be an asshole get off of me. Now I need to go change!”

Bucky smirked as he picked up your clutch and reached into it. He pulled out your phone. You tried to take it back but he held it out of reach and grabbed both of your wrists with his other hand holding them tightly behind your back. You started yelling, “Bucky give me my fucking phone! You play too much!”

“You better watch who you’re talking to. You’re about to get yourself into some shit you can’t handle. I already told you Y/N. I’m not playing with you. Talk to me like I’m one of your little friends again and watch what happens.”

He unlocked your phone then hit a few buttons on your phone and put it up to his ear. After a few seconds he started talking, “Hey, Mona, yeah Y/N won’t be able to make it tonight. She’s coming down with some kind of virus. Yeah I know, she was looking forward to tonight too. Don’t worry I’ll take good care of her. Alright, have fun ladies. Have a few rounds of drinks on me. Goodnight.”

You were seething by the time he hung up. This man was insane! “Why the fuck did you cancel on them?! I’ve been looking forward to tonight all week Bucky!”

He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, making the trek up the stairs. Your stomach dropped as you realized where this was going. “Because like I said you can’t seem to follow directions, so since you insist on wearing revealing clothes. I’m gonna give you something to reveal. I’m gonna mark every inch of your body baby. We’ll see how revealing you are with hickies and bruises all over you.”

Two Weeks Later

You were finally able to reschedule a night out with your girls. Happy to see them and a bit sore for Bucky’s morning escapades, you meet them at Mona’s house for a night of fun.

“Y/N, you made it! We haven’t seen you in forever!” Mona ran up to give her a tight hug. Once she registered your outfit, her face scrunched up in disgust. “Y/N why the fuck do you have a hoodie and sweatpants on?”

You growled, “It’s a long story.”

Masterlist: @chaneajoyyy @aislinnsilver @wawakanda-btch @marvelmaree

#milky fics #milk fics #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

127 notes · View notes

godsofmonster · 4 years

Text

Bangtan MC ≽ II.

Reader x Bangtan- Motorcycle Club

Word Count- 8.2k

Warnings- sexual content, death, murder, guns, drugs, violence, betrayal, mentions of suicide, mentions of rape, etc.

For as long as I can remember back, I always wanted to be in a motorcycle club. Since I was six years old, the only thing on my mind was getting my hands on a Harley and a cut. I was a wolf, a wild cur, cut from the pack with bloodstained on my fur. Every wrong has marked a debt because a beaten dog never forgets.

The next morning, I woke up remembering almost nothing at all. We had spent the night at Namjoon's house after the occurrence of the evening before. There was no time for me to process or even begin to understand what was happening around me. The only thing I knew was that I had to get dressed for my father's funeral today.

No one spoke to me unless there was some kind of practical reasoning behind it. Half of the time, I didn't even know who it was that would come and inform me of the time. However, they all always looked at me with a similar expression. The type of look you give to a caged animal, one you should never really turn your back on.

"Here are some clothes that should fit you," Said a vague voice from the entrance of the bedroom.

A woman, around my same age, knocked at the door of the guest room. She placed a few pairs of clothes to choose from on the bed in between us. A wet towel was barely covering my body as she quickly turned back to leave. I watched her pause with the door almost closed behind her, "Namjoon is waiting outside for you when you're ready."

The sun seemed to shine awfully bright despite the events that were to partake this afternoon. I found my sunglasses as I stepped out the front door in the same clothes from the night before. Namjoon was accompanied by Taehyung and Hoseok. They were gathered around their bikes in his driveway. Once he heard the door close behind me, he stood off his bike, excusing himself from the other two members.

"Hey," Namjoon spoke as he met me halfway up his driveway. His eyes scanned my figure momentarily, leading to a sudden smirk poking from his lips. "I can see you didn't like any of the dresses Cherry offered to lend you."

"Cherry?" I questioned. Then the immediate realization of the scampy clothes became apparent. "I'm wearing the clothes of a hooker?"

"A pornstar, actually," Namjoon corrected, failing to hide his chuckle behind his hand. He found my frustration considerably amusing- he always had. "She's a nice girl."

I hummed in response, trying to overlook the new information.

"Well, I can't really ride in a dress anyhow," I muttered, taking a moment to look down at my clothes for any alarming stains that I might have missed.

"Yeah... about that," I hated when his voice dropped like that. His gaze struggled to meet mine as I raised my brow at him. "You'll probably ride in the car with my mom- behind the club."

"What?" My chest tensed at his words. I pushed my sunglasses on top of my head to get a brighter look at him.

"Come on, (Y/n)... you know how it is," He said, hoping to dismiss the situation quickly.

"He's my father and you won't even let me ride behind him?" I scoffed, still falling amazed at their ridiculous regulations. Namjoon took a step closer, trying to keep our conversation between us.

"You know, as well as I do, that it's not allowed." He deepened his voice, thinking that I would fall intimidated by it. However, he only managed to create tears of rage brimming my eyes as I fought to keep my composure. "We can't break the formation."

"Fuck your formation!" I shouted, not caring that I had gotten the attention of the other members. "I deserve to be by his side!"

Namjoon grabbed me by the arm, pulling me closer toward him. I could tell that my words triggered him but he worked to hold his temper.

"I'm not going to remind you," He said in an ominous tone.

"You aren't Bangtan."

His stare burned holes in my eyes and his hand was cutting the circulation of my upper arm. I yanked myself out of his hold and looked passed him at Taehyung and Hoseok who had taken a few steps closer, ready to interfere in case of any conflict. I decided to not drive the matter further.

"You put your hands on me again," I pulled my sunglasses back over my eyes, "and I'll slit your goddamn throat."

I pushed past him, avoiding eye contact with the other guys as I walked up to my bike. Namjoon walked toward me at a great pace, as if he wanted to stop me. I didn't hesitate to mount the bike and kick start the engine. We met each other's expressionless gaze, I waited to see if he would say something to me.

He didn't.

I pulled out of the driveway dangerously quick and followed the road all by myself.

My feet marched and stopped their way into the House of Cards. Even in the middle of the day, the bar was full of hang arounds who felt entitled because of the name Bangtan. Members and nonmembers eyed me as I made my way across the floor. My eyes focused on the pair of black doors that had been shut in my face my entire life. There was no hesitation when I burst through them, knowing that I would find him sitting there at the head of the table.

"Please, come in." He said sarcastically but with a bitter taste on his tongue. I locked the double doors behind me, making sure that nobody would interfere with us from having this conversation.

"You've been avoiding me," I stated and stepped slowly around the opposite end of the table. He hadn't bothered to look up from files that laid in front of him.

"Is that a fact?" He hummed.

"It's been five days." I dug but he wouldn't nudge.

I looked at the six empty seats in front of him, the doors of Bangtan carved, proudly, into the center of the Indian rosewood table. I leaned on the opposite side of him, my hands flatly placed at the edge.

"I've been busy."

"Oh," I laughed coldly. "Is that how the great president of Bangtan deals with problems? By cowering away in his clubhouse?"

"Don't push it, (Y/n)." He warned, finally setting down the papers in his hands to give me a stern look. "I don't have time to deal with your childish games."

"You don't have time to deal with me?" I teasingly challenged. "Or you don't know how?"

I stepped away from the table, my hands were placed firmly at my hips, as I smiled down at him. "It's funny that you can deal with murder and gun trafficking- but being a father!?"

His hands slammed against the table, loud as a gunshot, as he stood to his feet. He was furious but I was just glad to see a reaction out of him.

"Watch your goddamn mouth," He said through clenched teeth.

I spat. "Is my desperate need for your attention getting boring?"

"Is that what all this is about, (Y/n)?" He stood up straight. "Is that why you did it?"

The single light that dangled over the table was deep, creating the harshest contours on the borders of his face. The blinds were drawn behind him and the specks of light that seeped through were enough to give his figure a glow. He was a fearful sight but there wasn't much he could do to me that he hadn't already.

"Did it ever occur to you that I might be the one who actually deserves your trust? Your counsel?"

My voice softened deeply. Finally, reaching the situation in which I pleaded he would hear me the most. "Not your club-not Namjoon but me! You're daughter."

"You're telling me that all this shit is some fucking tantrum?" His voice sounded of disbelief. He shook his head and took his eyes off of me but I wouldn't allow it. He was going to hear me, whether he wanted to or not.

"After years and years of your lectures about family and what it meant to be a part of something," I stepped around the table, slowly coming to his line of sight once again. "Did you ever stop to realize that I was the only one who ever listened- who lived by everything you ever said!"

I hadn't even noticed that tears had escaped from my eyes until I tasted them on my lips. My father stared at me with burning eyes, his breath deepened in his chest.

"But you never did see it-" My voice cracked and more tears streamed down my face. "because of this thing... between my legs."

He shut his eyes and sighed under his breathing. His anger had burned out completely and he only listened. "Believe me, I see what you- this lifestyle does to women. We're supposed to hold you down while you cheat, lie, and use..."

"(Y/n)," He spoke softly, it was like a breath of air, barely anything at all. "I don't distrust you because you're a woman- I distrust you because you aren't as smart as you think you are."

I scoffed under my breath, not being able to believe that he believed his own words. "It’s time you learned your place and stayed in it."

"My place- isn't wherever you say it is," He allowed himself to sit back down in his chair as I made it to his side. "I'm not Jaeeun- and I'm not mom."

My father turned his eyes away from me, his hands closed tightly into fists as he spoke. I had come in here thinking that there was nothing else my father could have taken from me but I was so very wrong.

"I’ve decided to send you to live with your aunt in Seattle."

He had taken away from me the only thing I had left- a chance to prove him wrong.

I looked away from his cold figure, hating the tears and pain that came at the price of his words. He had refused to see that he picked his stepson over me once again. I cleaned my face and began to walk toward the door, knowing that I had lost.

Just as I came face to face with the set of doors, without daring to look back at him- I said,

"Your club...your legacy- you have always loved it more than your actual family." There was no noise from his part. "Mom knew it and now... so do I."

Even now, it hurt the same.

Throughout that time, I was alone, so many years lost without a home. I found my prayers answered by a different devotion. At that time, I didn't know just how fast and hard the wind could blow toward disaster.

"I'm sorry I didn't come to see you sooner," I gulped silently, fiddling with the dandelion bouquet I had rumpled together. "I'm sorry I haven't come in over seven years."

I was only eight when she passed away, which had left my father to care for me during my most formative years. Even so, I prefer to believe that the pain of my mother was the only thing that didn't allow me to break under the sins of my father.

"I'm sorry I'm going to leave you here with him." My back rested against her cold headstone, placing the bouquets of weeds just under her name, tears falling from my eyes.

The place next to her was empty, my palm moved over the fresh grass, pulling out a few strands of green in the process. Originally it was meant to be saved for my father but when he remarried, Jaeeun tried to sell the lot. I had managed to convince him that the space next to hers would be my final resting place. I think it was the reason my father was looking for.

I knew that my mother could not refine me from the sky. Still, I hoped that she would at least welcome me with open arms.

"I thought you might be here," The words were accompanied by footsteps that roamed around my, sitting, frame. I shoved some loose strands of hair from my face.

"Did he send you to come to find me?" My eyes began to sting from the blazing sun that was emanating from his direction. I could only imagine how puffy and sore they looked under the rays of heat.

"Well, I just figured you should be there," Jimin bent his knees, coming to eye level with me on the ground.

"I don't even know why I'm here Jimin..." I muttered, avoiding eye contact out of embarrassment. He tried his best to make me feel not so alone, reaching his hand out to touch my arm, but I winced. "My father didn't want me here then- why would he now? I was only ever his burden."

"That's not true," Jimin grabbed my hand, causing me to look up at him through my wet eyelashes. His voice had always been the voice of reason in my ears. "I think, in his own way, he wanted to protect you..."

He sighed as my face revealed that his words were falling to deaf ears. He meant well, I knew that but he didn't know what it was like. This is the life that he showed me- the life that I knew how to live in. "(Y/n) you aren't like us- believe me, that's a compliment."

"Jimin," I gulped through pain in my throat, the soft summer breeze pushing my words out. "I spent the last seven years of my life believing that if I just could come back home- the rest of my life would fall into place."

"But why?" He urged, his voice becoming strained. "I know you see through the bullshit of this town. You always said so."

"My family is here..." That's what this was about. My hand reached to feel the stone carvings of my mother's name. That’s all this has ever been about. "Was- was here..."

Maybe, it was stupid. Maybe no one could ever make sense of how I felt. But family was the only law I ever knew.

Jimin stood back up on his feet, a loud sign leaving his mouth as he continued to look down at me.

"We're still here, (Y/n)."

I looked up at him to see his arm was extended out for me to take. How Jimin had managed to make me feel the smallest bit better- was far beyond my knowledge.

He offered me his help to get back on my feet, allowing me the moment that I needed, before we walked together to the burial service.

I was riding through this world all alone, thinking that God had taken my soul. I created a cage that accepted the darkness because it was easy on the eyes. A cage that I used to catch my breath, rest my head, ease my mind, and fuel my anger.

The green life that grew in the ruins of a cemetery seemed to be the most flourishing. The dead did not disturb them and the living provided them with their tears to drink. I figured I had done enough watering for one day.

Jimin walked closely by my side, our feet walking over the bodies of loved ones as we made our way through the cemetery. There was a silence between that had been the most comforting thing I've heard all day. However, there was a consistent glimmer coming off the metal buttons of his leather cut. My eyes scanned the side of his chest that was closest to me. He had two patches sewed into the area above his breast pocket, one above the other reading,

SGT at Arms

Dog of War

"What are you staring at, love?" Jimin asked after taking notice of my longing eyes. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but curiosity got the better of me.

"Did my old man appoint you Sergeant?" I asked, genuinely curious. He looked down at the patch on his chest and then back into my eyes.

"Yeah," He answered with a bit of a chuckle. He brought his hand to rest over the patch as if he was remembering the day. "I guess he got sick of my preaching."

The SGT at Arms was a position given to a member who was in charge of upholding the rules and philosophy of the club. While also keeping an eye on all the members and in charge of looking out for everyone. Jimin had a heavy soul that was held tightly together by his values. Having been in my father's situation, I would have probably made the same judgment call. It wasn't that patch that I was surprised to see- it was the one underneath it.

"And what did you do to deserve that one?" My hand reached out and made contact with him. His eyes shifted back down as I moved our hands to the patch below. "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

I said, quickly withdrawing my hand, noticing that the question made him a bit uneasy. I kept my eyes on his facial expression, carefully, watching for any kind of response.

"I," Jimin paused to lick his lips. His hand also dropped from his chest as he looked ahead. He chuckled again, this time, more ambiguously. "I guess I just took care of business."

Only a few were selected to earn the title of Dog of War, to receive such recognition, you had to make a serious act of loyalty to the club- usually a violent one. In fewer words, you had to kill a high enemy of the club.

"I still like to shove it in Hoseok's face, whenever I can. Since he, Jin, and Yoongi are the only ones who don't have it." It was definitely something he was proud of. I could only imagine what he must have done to deserve it. "But I guess, he'll be rubbing his VP patch in front of me soon."

My mind almost didn't process what he had said since it was barely a mutter. My feet slowly came to a halt and Jimin mimicked me as he noticed.

"I-Is..." I don't know why I hadn't noticed it before. My stomach turned into a ball at the words I was about to say. "Is Namjoon going to take over as President?"

"Well, technically, we still need to vote on it," Jimin ran his hands through his long locks of hair, a habit of nervousness that I recognized instantly. "But he is your father's VP."

Rage heated up my body, I could feel it burn color over my face as I tried to remain calm. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with this feeling of instability. I couldn't let go of the hatred because I loved the way it tastes.

The only notion that was able to draw me from my relentless thoughts were the soft words being spoken off in the distance.

"If I should go before the rest of you.

Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone"

"(Y/n)," Jimin attempted to recover my attention.

However, I had managed to spot, underneath a grove of pine trees, a gathering of people. The familiar voice traveled along with the breeze that was coming from that direction.

"Nor when I'm gone,

speak in a Sunday voice."

Before I knew it, my legs began to move once again. This startled Jimin, he followed closely behind me as all I could do was follow the voice.

"But be the usual selves

that I have known."

The group in my line of sight becomes clearer with each step, faces become apparent, I even began to recognize some of them. My legs commenced trembling with some kind of adrenaline. I wasn't sure if it was my footsteps or heartbeat pounding in my ear.

"Weep if you must,"

I found the words coming from Namjoon's mouth, he stood over the casket, in front of a large crowd of people. The head of the group was a line of seated women, among them, Jaeeun, the members and close friends of the club gathered behind them.

"Parting is Hell,"

Heads slowly began to turn as I approached the crowd. Red and white flowers blanketed the ground surrounding his lot. My father's casket was completely black, except for the words 'Bangtan' written in white lettering, along its side. His leather cut also rested on top with the back rocker facing up.

Without warning, I moved swiftly to get my hands on Jimin's bowie knife. I pulled out the weapon from its place, where it had been tucked into his belt.

Small gasps filled the crowd as Jimin failed to keep me from advancing toward the casket. Roses crushed under the weight of my feet as I grabbed the leather cut. I flipped it on its front and eyed the patches it held.

I dragged the end of the knife to slice loose the bottom stitching of the patch. Once I freed the edge of it, I gripped in my hands and yanked it off with all the anger that I had built up. I could feel the stares coming from behind me, murmurs and whispers were exchanged between them. I continued to repeat my actions to the patch that laid underneath. Just making a second of eye contact with Namjoon, who stood on the other side, before also ripping the patch off by hand.

I crumbled the two patched into my front pocket as I turned on my feet. I was met face to face with the crowd of people, mixed expressions spread across their faces. I looked down at my feet, stepping aside some of the crushed roses, and found a red one that had remained unharmed. I bent down and picked it up between my fingers. I brought the delicate thing to my nose, taking a smell, before tossing it on top of the casked.

I caught a glimpse of Jaeeun cold glare before I pulled down my sunglasses and took a seat at the only empty chair at the end of the row.

I crossed one leg over another and made myself comfortable. Jimin shortly after walked to stand by my side, in which, I handed him his knife without a word.

The muttering in the group had begun to quiet down, Jaeeun, who finished the session with a hushed, "Crazy bitch..."

Everyone soon turned back to Namjoon, who had not been able to take his eyes off of me this entire time. When he did look away he let out a sigh, to clear his throat, as he continued.

"But life goes on,

So sing as well."

After the burial, Jimin had convinced me to join the rest of them at The House of Cards. Truth be told, I didn't have anywhere else to go. My father's home had become a crime scene, with broken windows and blood painting the house. Spending another night with Namjoon and Jaeeun felt further like an option.

Staying, within itself, proposed a predicament.

"Here,"

The sound of short, round, glass being placed in front of me drove me away from my pity-party. "Neat, right?"

"Yeah, thank you," I took the glass into my hand as Jimin took the stool across from me.

We shortly glanced at each other as we both took a sip from our drinks. Jimin puckered his lips against the rim of a bottle of beer, and I hissed at the taste of straight whiskey.

"So, what's the plan?" Jimin asked after letting out a small burp and setting his drink down.

"I have no idea," I lamented. "Go back to Seattle? Let fate take the wheel?"

Jimin chuckled and leaned back in his seat.

"Come on," He said. "I know you don't believe in that shit."

I played with the glass in my hand, watching as the brown liquor rattled against the edge. I sat up on the wooden table and looked up at him.

"I don't believe in anything anymore."

His face didn't twitch at my words, he merely kept a similar face, which was hard for me to read. The sigh that shortly followed made me believe that he had grown rather worn of my self-indulgence.

"(Y/n)," He said, pushing a single strand of hair from his face. He held my eyes in his own, the tone of his voice had fallen seriously. "Are you happy?"

I knew he meant in life- in general. However, I was afraid that the answer would remain the same. He managed to read that in me, without me having to say a word. He leaned in, much closer than before,

"Do you want to be?" It was easy to assume that the answer was yes. Didn't everyone want to be happy? But the truth was, not everyone still had that hope inside of them, to fight for their happiness. "Has anything you've done these past seven years- made your life any better?"

I felt a single tear slip from my eye, blinking it away upon noticing it. I had 25 years behind me. I've lived my life inside a cage, surrounded by demons, many of which were my own. Falling weak by your own hands was a hard way to fall. I shook my head and felt ashamed to maintain his stare.

"I think it's time you stay awhile," He said, reaching out to hold my hand. It was the first time I had taken notice of his touch, how it was warm and welcoming. "And decide what it is you want."

It could have been the hard liquor, but I felt my face heat with a mixture of shame and embarrassment. Taking another glimpse of his touch, I slowly removed my hand and swallowed to clear my throat.

"S-So, what about you?" I pushed part of my hair behind my warm ears. Straightening out my back, I pulled my arms in and created some space between us. "What have you been up to all this time?"

He took another drink of his beer before answering. I thought I could make out a flush of color on his cheeks as well, but the lighting above us was too warm and too dim to tell.

"I um- went to school, shortly after you left," He explained. "I got an associate in automotive technology."

"Are you working in the shop with your old man?" I asked. A motorcycle was everything to a biker- if you weren't a good mechanic, finding one was a matter of life or death. His family's shop was the only workshop I would dare to trust in.

"I'll be taking over, pretty soon," He joked lightly.

Words hung over his mouth as our attention was stolen by the sudden sound of rapid running. I felt a small hand pat my leg eagerly, demanding recognition. I looked down from the tall stool to find a young boy about the age of four.

"My daddy said another drink will make you feel better." Before I could question anything, he pushed an open juice box into my lap.

I broke out into a laugh, taking the juice box into my hands and inspecting it. When I looked back at the kid he was also smiling, this time a bit more shyly than before.

"Geeze kid," Taehyung came walking up beside him. He quickly picked up the kid as if he had run off from his side. "Not that kind of drink."

I was confused at first, but in the arms of his father, there was no doubt that he was Taehyung's son. He had large dark orbs for eyes and his father's ears. His hair was dark and full, parted to the right and long enough to tuck behind his ears.

"Milk?" He innocently suggested.

"That's right, little man." Jimin laughed along. His little voice melted my heart, and his smile was a mirror reflection of Taehyung's. Jimin stepped down from his seat and grabbed his beer.

"I'm going to get some more milk." He shook his bottle lightly, indicating that it was almost empty.

"Grab me one," Taehyung called out to him as he walked toward the bar.

Just then, a group of children came running around the table. Their laughs and screams of joy induced Taehyung's boy. His little feet began to kick lightly, Taehyung responded right away, by letting him down.

"Daehyun, stay where I can see you!" He called as his son took off running after the other kids.

I found my smile fading as soon as he was gone, the sudden memory of the night before flashed in my head.

"He wasn't there last night?" I asked looking up at Taehyung, who had not moved from his place a few steps beside me.

His face had fallen stiff at my question. Obviously, the thought of the night before had brought bad images to his head. Something a parent would never want to imagine.

"My parents had him." He explained while he searched his back pockets. Even for those who choose this kind of life, they knew better than anyone, what the fear was like.

I felt relieved to know that he wasn't there. No kid deserved to witness such hell. For some reason, the air always fell dry between Taehyung and me. I just simply watched him pull a pack of smokes out his back pocket. He noticed my eyes on him and stepped closer to offer me a cigarette. I didn't agree with smoking indoors, much less around children, however, I could really use a drag.

I placed the square between my lips, Taehyung closed the gap between us, his figure casting a shadow over me. He flicked the flint wheel of a zipper lighter, cupping his hands over the hot flame, and offered it to me. I connected the two and breathed in deeply, Taehyung ultimately doing the same.

"Thanks," I muttered, deeply bringing the smoke into my lungs. "Do you have more kids?"

Taehyung moved back, pushing some of his hair away from his mouth, avoiding any unwanted event. His cheeks hollowed in, a sharp inhale followed his deep drag.

"Nah, just the one." He smirked, glancing back to find me somewhere in the bar.

"I'm sure you've got some more scattered around the state." Jimin teased as he came back with two beers in his hand. Taehyung grabbed one of the opened bottles and shoved Jimin back to his seat. Jimin continued to joke in his seat. "Don't bring any of them. We don't need more kids running around the shop."

"You're working at the shop too?" Taehyung nodded his head and took a sip of his drink.

"I should be running the damn place," He said, taunting Jimin. "I put in more hours than him."

"I'm still a better mechanic than you." Jimin shot back.

I pressed the glass to my lips and watched the two bicker with each other. It reminded me of when we were in high school. It was good to see some things hadn't changed, that some people were still the same.

"What about you?" Taehyung asked.

"Hm?" I said not completely hearing what he had said.

"What do you work in?" Jimin clarified, seeming more interested than Taehyung.

"Oh," I stammered. I took another drag to give myself some thinking time. "Just a boring office job."

"Like with data?"

There wasn't any time for the question to settle. The main entrance of the bar opened and walked in Namjoon. I hadn't even known that he was missing from the group until then.

Hoseok and Jungkook were by his side as he scanned the room. His eyes landed by the end of the bar, where Yoongi and Jin were seated, drinking, and well accompanied by women. Namjoon's hand motioned Hoseok over to them. During this time, Jungkook had spotted us over on the corner and made sure to point us out to Namjoon.

"Guess it's time..." Taehyung muttered to himself. His head turned back to eyed Jimin, who began to chug down his drink.

By the time my eyes looked back, Namjoon and Jungkook were walking in our direction. I took hold of my drink once more, my cigarette resting in the same hand. In an attempt to look busy, I suppose.

"Ready?" Was the first thing out of Jungkook, obviously referring to Jimin and Taehyung. I avoided Namjoon's stare.

"Yep," Taehyung stepped over the table and put out his cigarette in the ashtray. He looked over his shoulder, my eyes followed to where he had spotted his son. Daehyun was playing with some other kids under the tables of the bar.

"I can keep an eye on him," I offered.

His gaze lowered to mine. Only then did I notice how close he was to me. His fingers still digging the already crushed cigarette deeper in the glass ashtray.

"Thanks, doll." His eyes dropped into a wink that no one else witnessed.

Jungkook came up and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. They walked together toward the hallway, which was in the back of the bar, leading to the garage and the doors to the chapel.

MCs had weekly club meetings, that they referred to as church. If their meetings were church- then their conference room was the chapel. However, special club meetings could be held at any time they were needed. Any club action needed to be voted on by current members. For the most part, it was a matter of the highest vote being the one to pass. Although, there were special cases where a vote had to be unanimous for it to pass into action- patching in a prospect, sending someone to hell, and voting in a new president.

Namjoon and I were left alone, but still, I kept my eyes glued to my drink. I always felt so on edge when his eyes were on me. He stepped toward me and leaned his hand on the table.

"I'm going to need what you took." He said softly. I still refused to look into his eyes. Not wanting to spend any more time with him, I pulled out the severed patches from my pocket.

The two patches were bitterly placed on the table between us. Namjoon's hand hesitated to reach for them both, but I had quickly changed my mind.

My hand slammed back down, shielding the patches from his hold. I looked at them both and only pushed one toward him.

"Just because you need it," I said. His finger touched the sewed on letters of the president patch. I looked at him this time, staring him down, "But this one belongs to me."

His face remained the same for a moment, his eyes lightly shifting from side to side as he tried to focus on me. Then his cold stare broke into a smirk.

"He's rolling over in his grave knowing you have that." I placed the cigarette back in my mouth and leaned away from him.

"Good."

Without saying anything else, a sort of truce, Namjoon took what was his and left. Once his back was turned to me, and he was far away enough, I let out a shaky breath.

I gripped the Founder's patch in my free hand and soothed my burned throat with whiskey.

My father was a boy of agony, a man of soul, traded in his misery for the lonely life of the road. In the late of June, the king had died from a hell that was heaven made.

My father was the founder of Bangtan. A group of men that loved their Harleys and their family. Willing to anything to protect they're right to ride, no matter the cost. They were motorcycle enthusiasts that lived their life on the edge- and so was I.

Daehyun's laugh seemed to be the only joy in the entire room. His tiny shoes screeched against the black tile floor as he ran in circles. He struggled to keep his long hair away from his face, the mop on his head almost costing him the game, as it compromised his vision. His smile was contagious.

"Oh god," A groan, from beside me, managed sucked the small gasp of happiness from the air. "I know that look anywhere."

I turned my head on time to catch Jaeeun, offering herself the seat where Jimin had been. She held a drink in one and an unlit cigarette in the other.

"What look?" I ask, only half curious.

I spared her my look and continued gazing at the sweet child who knew nothing of the cruel world around him.

"That look of an empty-aching womb." She responded with the noise of a flicking lighter following.

I scoffed.

"Why would I want to bring a kid into this shit world?" The thought crossed through my mind and then I forced it out.

"Because you have a deep, painful need to be needed," Jaeeun said. I somehow knew that wasn't meant to be an insult. "You're a lonely bitch."

That part was.

"Is that why you had Namjoon?" I looked at her and found amusement resting on her face. A trail of smoke blew past her lips.

"All mothers are selfish for bringing babies into this world."

She wasn't the most heartwarming person, but she had her wise moments. I unearthed the similarities in our way of thinking many times before. Perhaps, that was the issue.

"That's why I wouldn't do it," I set my empty glass on the table between us. Her eyes continued to watch my every move, "Don't worry,"

A bad joke crossed my mind and the whiskey was the only encouragement I needed.

"I don't plan on making you a grandmother just yet."

She didn't seem to appreciate it very much.

Jaeeun leaned in across the table, her eyes threatening me before her words ever could.

"I don't have to remind you what happened the last time you tried to fuck with my family." She spoke viciously and effortless.

I tried to hold back my grin, but the alcohol in my veins made it quite difficult. I didn't think I could feel anything but the warmth burning up in my face.

"If you think that this is your chance for some kind of redemption story," She was almost losing her patience with the venom spitting from her mouth. "It's not."

Her words began to sting.

"I'm not afraid of you," I declared and pushed the butt of my cigarette into the ashtray. "And I'm not the same girl I was seven years ago."

"I am." She sneered.

"And just in case you were wondering, no one here feels sorry for you." She was proud of herself for finding the right button. "Your name is a forgotten memory in this town."

As the liquor gave me the confidence, it took it away just as easily. Jaeeun had a keen nose to sniff out people's weaknesses. I couldn't be any easier to read in her eyes.

"Believe me," I said, forcing myself to keep my head up. "You've made that perfectly clear."

There was little compassion in Jaeeun's heart, and it was not saved for the likes of me. Even as my eyes glossed with the effects of her words.

"You're weak." She looked down at me.

"Maybe you're right," I grabbed my empty glass and stood off my seat, our eyes holding up into the last second. "But I lost everything and came back,"

I spoke softly, surrendering my share in this conversation with the only truth I knew. "You would have crumbled."

I had to admit, by the time I sat at the bar, I felt very discouraged. All of my desires had turned out to be a gifted lie. I loved everything I didn't have and yet, hated it for that very same reason.

I decided not to order another glass for myself, seeing as how the first drink had a wild effect on me. I settled for a glass of water and to keep myself company.

"Excuse me?" I answered to a voice beside me. "(Y/n)?"

My eyes fell upon a young woman, reserved and beautiful.

"Yes?" She was noticeably better dressed than anyone in the room. It was hard not to notice that she was very out of place.

"I'm Darcy Durrell," Her last name was all I needed to know. The Durrell's were one of the wealthiest families in the town. Her father, the mayor, is the head of many organizations. "I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am for your loss."

"Oh, thank you," I answered awkwardly, just taking notice that she was the first person to tell me that. "You look so different from before- I didn't even recognize you."

"Oh," She smiled, running her hands through her hair.

Darcy was four years younger than I was. She naturally had large brown eyes, with dark brows and long blonde hair. At least that's how I remembered her 14-year-old self. Now, her hair was dark and cut into a blunt bob.

As we were talking, my mind couldn't help but recall back to that night.

"Actually,” My father suddenly spoke up. Both Namjoon and I paused to see who he was referring too. “You can stay, Namjoon, it’s time you learn a thing or two.”

He barely spared me a glance as he continued, “Prospect, follow (Y/n) and make sure she gets home.”

“No problem,” Yoongi responded.

I gathered my belongings in a wave of harried anger, trying to avoid anyone from taking notice of the tears streaming down my face.

No one bothered to give me another look, anyhow. I was as insignificant as the dirt on the garage floor.

I followed closely behind Yoongi, stepping through the doors that lead into the bar. I almost couldn't contain the built rage that was brewing inside of me. My heart was broken, and my trust was shattered. I could almost throw a child-like tantrum. The kind that would call for someone to carry me out of the bar.

I had to do something.

I stopped in my tracks and managed to come up with something on the spot.

"I have to use the bathroom,"

Yoongi looked over his shoulder at me and simply nodded.

"I'll wait for you outside."

The door to the bathroom was down a long hall, the entrance to that hallway was an arch, beside the door to the garage. Once Yoongi was out of my line of sight, I hid in the space where the arch met the wall. I waited there as more people approached the back of the bar. It was late at night, and the only people it could be were other club members. The darkness of the hallway kept me well covered as the disembodied voices passed by me.

Once I heard the door to the garage close, I stepped out and walked up to the door myself. Ever so quietly, I cracked the door open just a bit, enough for me to see.

"Good to see you, Steven."

My father stepped toward the direction of Steven Durrell, the mayor of Blackburn. My father extended his hand out to him, but Steven was hesitant to take it.

The relationship between the club and the town wasn't a very good one. They didn't appreciate our outlaw way of dealing with our day to day problems. I couldn't make sense of why he was here, but I imagine it couldn't be good.

The look on his face was further confirmation of that.

"Darcy is still in shock..." Steven spoke timidly. He looked worried and unsure of his own business. "She doesn't remember anything."

He let out a shaking sigh, his shoulders falling into a hunch as if the weight of the world rested on them. "Son of a bitch busted her in the jaw, threw her down on the dirt, and raped her."

"What did the police say?" Namjoon asked, standing beside my father.

"They took a report." He responded, not sounding to have much faith.

His demeanor was shaken. He could barely make eye contact with my father as he worked up the courage to speak.

"I want you to find him and bring him to me."

My father took a deep drag from his cigarette, letting his words sink in, making sure that he, himself, believed them. "I'll pay you anything you want."

"Who do you think we are?" My father seemed annoyed. He tossed his cigarette to the floor and crushed it under his foot. "I don't want your money."

His voice fell deep, as it did before he was about to preach.

"No one comes into our town and does this to a little girl."

Steven took in a deep breath, one of relief, to hear my father agree.

"We'll find this bastard but this isn't so simple Steven," My father took a step closer to the man in distress. "I need to know that when I deliver him to you,"

Steven gulped.

"That you'll take care of business."

There was doubt on his part, my father's strong eyes beckoning him further. But after moments of silence, it was Steven's turn to extend his hand to my father.

The deal was sealed.

“Your father was a good man,” Darcy said and gave me a sympathetic smile before excusing herself.

It was a small town, so everyone knew who Darcy Durrell was, and what happened to her that night at the park. She was fourteen years old, and the police never found the man. Yet, her family could rest assured that he had paid for what he did, and everyone knew why. When people came to the club because they couldn't go to the police, that meant something to my father.

I had neglected the parts of this world that I admired. The good and shelter the club brought to people. How selfish of me to only remember the beginning of that day. The part that only affected me.

Still, I could not find any valid reason to stay.

Was there truly nothing left for me? Life was not what I foresaw for myself and the blame was solely mine. The world had given me seven years to make a change and instead, I built up this rage and anger. I managed to Isolate myself into the void and hate.

Jimin was right.

It was time for me to ask myself the big question;

Who am I?

And what is it that I want?

Now, I don't know if I believed in fate; that in which you cannot change. However, Destiny is that which you're meant to do- who you are meant to be. Fate is what happened to me because I didn't take responsibility for my life. My destiny is what came calling on my cell phone.

I pressed the phone against my ear and answered, "Hello?"

"Hello, am I speaking with research specialists (Y/L/N)?" I looked over my shoulder, making sure that nobody was around me.

"Yes, this is her." My eyes scattered around the room.

"This is Special Agent Anthony Romero." My eyes landed on Daehyun at the closest table beside me. "I apologize for calling you at a difficult time. However, we believe that you might have first-hand insight into a motorcycle club that we believe is in the works to be affiliated with the Camilo Cartel."

Our eyes locked and he smiled at me.

"I'm sorry," I stood from my seat, worried too much that my conversation might be overheard. "Sir, there must be some mistake. This club doesn't associate with those kinds of activities."

I stepped toward the back of the bar, close to the back door of the garage.

"Ms. (Y/L/N), I understand that you have family ties with the Bangtan motorcycle club," Our way of life was always outlaw, but if there was one thing that my father refused to entertain was Bangtan getting into the drug business.

"But as an agent of the DEA, we are asking for your cooperation in this investigation."

The doors of the meeting room opened. The boys came out gathered around Namjoon, each of them making gestures of praise and excitement. Namjoon smiled, his hand stroking the newly stitched patch on his vest.

"I have no experience as a field agent," I answered quietly.

Jaeeun walked up to Namjoon, wrapping her arms around him and speaking inaudible words to him.

"I can brief you in the morning. For now, get some rest agent."

Just like that, he wished me a good night. Little did he know, nothing would ever be good again.

I brought the phone down, and the way that I looked at everyone in this room had changed.

I knew things were not the same as when I left, but I didn't know that everything had gone to complete shit. If you chose this life, then you knew what the fear was like if you welcomed addiction. There was no taunted charm or broken smile that could reach you then. Nothing happened in California that the club didn't know about.

Destiny is what happens when you commit to your path. I was born into this life, I was born my father's daughter and this was my kingdom.

Masterlist ≽

#Bangtan MC #bts #bts fanfic #bangtan scenarios #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #park jimin #jeon jungkook #Jung HoSeok #min yoongi #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader

40 notes · View notes

jocelyn-wellson · 4 years

Photo

21 Years Ago (September)

"Ya donnae 'ave ta walk me there," snapped Jocelyn. "I kin figh' fer meself."

Kasyade and the Captain traded a look. The Captain shook his head.

"Miss Jocelyn," he began, "I promised I would take you to see their graves myself. Did ya forget?"

"Ya go' me drunk on me 10th birfday an' ya 'spec' me ta take ya at yer word? Ya think I be tha' stupi'?"

The Captain looked like someone hit him in the gut.

"Jocelyn," said Kasyade, voice stern and serious as ever, "Calm down. He's right."

"Righ' 'bou' wha'? The drinkin' o' the protec'ion, hm? An' wha' 'ave ya done fer me?"

Kasyade backhanded the teenager. "Kept your ass alive how many times now?" Jocelyn fumed. Her eyes darted between the two. "Fuck et," she said, storming to the room she shared with her mentor. "I donnae wanna see."

NOW

"You ok?" asked Melody.

"Hm?"

"You've been distant all night... something happen?"

Joci shook her head.

"I know you better than that," said Melody.

Joci looked up at her date. She reached for the bottle of burgundy and filled her glass to the rim.

"Now I know something happened the other day."

"Et donnae mattah," Joci said, setting the bottle down. She closed her hands around the bowl of the pinot noir glass. Tobacco and berries, smoke and leather and oak, they all emanated from the palms of her hands.

"If it didn't matter, I wouldn't ask," said Melody, gently. "Are you ok?"

Joci closed her eyes. Breathe in. The scent of the wine mixed with the image of the little child in Moonbrook, playing with the mutilated teddy. Breathe out.

"No," she admitted.

THEN

After her initial tantrum, Miss Jocelyn emerged from her room. She looked between the Captain and her mentor, her fist closed around her knuckles. She had donned her best set of clothing, a birthday gift from Kasyade two years prior - a light green dress with white accents. "Look..." she said, staring at the ground. "I donnae wha' ta be findin' 'ere. Mebbe a grave, mebbe nothin'. An' tha'," she admitted, "scares th' fuck outta me."

Kasyade nodded toward the Captain. She knelt. He stepped out of the room.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You haven't been here for over 9 years."

"Ain' no green-skins 'ere now, be they?"

"Not the point."

"I ain' afrai' o' no seadogs..."

"Still not the point."

"Mama..."

"Yeah." Kasyade brought the girl close to her. "That's it, right? Not knowing what happened to her?"

Jocelyn didn't answer. She held out her fist and opened it, dropping her weapon into her mentor's hand.

"I'll take you, yea?"

"No' th' Captain..." Jocelyn said quietly. "'e's why I be 'ere in th' firs' place."

"Aye, just us." Kasyade tucked the small pair of knuckles into her pack.

"I wanna go jus' like... like I donnae wanna hur' no one. Jus' be in peace, like."

"I'll keep watch the whole way, alright?"

Jocelyn nodded. She walked over toward the broad window of the Captain's quarters and looked out at Rustberg Village. Kasyade excused herself to speak with the Captain. Voices were raised, but he relented.

NOW

Melody offered Joci a wistful smile. A platter of coconut-breaded shrimp and another of raw seafood were placed in the center of the table. Joci reached for one of the coconut shrimp and dipped it in the sweet cocktail sauce. "What's bothering you, J?"

Joci bit the head off the shrimp. "A boy, a boy me an' Myz foun' in that town, Moonbrook." She chewed for a moment. "'e 'ad nothin', no' really."

Melody nodded slowly. "Moonbrook was hit hardest by the abandonment of the Crown... my family fled to Sentinel Hill just before the anarchists."

"Et ain' always been like tha', ya mean?"

"No... no, not always." Melody chuckled. "I remember when it wasn't so bad. Before the riots and the hate. I remember playing there, the different farms..." She took a raw scallop from the other platter, squeezing lemon juice atop it. "...but this isn't about me, is it?"

Joci cleared her throat. She told her about the little boy, the little boy who seemed haunted, whose teddy was falling apart, missing its eyes, was filthy. Melody nodded as she spoke. Like she knew exactly what she was talking about.

"...et remin'ed me o' me bruv," Joci admitted at last.

THEN

The two headstones were simple. "B.W." and "J.W." Set atop a hill, looking over the village. Kasyade stopped five meters out to give her charge a bit of privacy; after all, it was the first time Jocelyn had visited her parents' graves. She watched as Jocelyn approached the headstones, slowly and timidly. In her hands, she held a small burlap sack. When she reached the headstones, she opened it. Kasyade looked on as the girl extracted a well-loved teddy, the same one she had watched Jocelyn cuddle with for the past four years.

"Mama," she heard the teen say, "Papa... I miss you... miss you so." Kasyade could hear Jocelyn start to cry. A bandit turned and was about to yell something, but she shot the man a death glare. The bandit left. Kasyade's focus returned to the posthumous reunion.

"Ya remembah this 'un 'ere? Lil' B called it ‘Jan’?" asked the teen, setting the teddy between the two headstones. "'ow he gave 'er ta me th' day..." she choked on her words. Kasyade watched closely, but still remained silent as the young woman continued. "...she done saw me go through 'ard times. Now ya kin le' 'er see ya through yers," she heard the teen say. "Kasyade?"

"Jocelyn?"

"I nee' yer 'elp."

The mentor approached her protégé bearing a shovel. She dug a hole for the teddy. Jocelyn wrapped the toy in burlap and set it to rest in the hole. She threw a handful of dirt on it and backed away. Kasyade began to cover it. Jocelyn kissed her fingertips, resting them atop her papa's headstone and then her mama's.

"I luv ya..." she said. "Donnae forge' me, an' I cannae forge' ya."

Kasyade set a heavy stone atop the shallow grave she had dug for the child's toy. She set her hand on Jocelyn's shoulder. "Good?"

Jocelyn cried for two minutes more. She swiped at her eyes. "...nay," she said, voice breaking. "Le's go."

NOW

After they had finished their meal, Joci and Melody walked hand-in-hand. They passed the Cathedral. Joci hesitated. "Kin I show ya somethin'?" she asked.

They ventured into Stormwind Cemetery. There, about half way, were a collection of headstones, the names on which were familiar to Joci, even if all their stories were not. She led Melody to one: "...this one was me bruv," she said.

Melody plucked a few late-summer flowers from alongside the path. She knelt, running her hands across the headstone's crescent moon. She set the flowers at the base of the memorial. "I'll watch over her," she promised the cold stone. "Not that she needs it," she whispered. She swore she could hear an ethereal chuckle. She stood. "Let me show you my flat," she offered. "If you'd like."

Joci wrapped her arms around Melody. She melted into those arms, sobbing. Neither of them said another word. They took each others' hands and walked the long way back to Melody's flat.

( @myzariel )

#jocelyn wellson #backstory #story #[ cyanide itches ]#unit 8 #wyrmrest RP #wra RP #wyrmrest accord

8 notes · View notes

norcumii · 4 years

Text

Ruminating on Rebels, 2

I know I took awhile with this episode, but boy does it feel long. The pacing is off? Or my brain is just unhappy. No idea which. I suspect that’s just my brain, though.

SPOILERS AHEAD. REBELS CRITICAL. For details what this is about, here’s a post. My relevant tag is “throwing popcorn at Rebels”.

Episode 2: Spark of Rebellion Part II

Overview:

Ezra runs into the Star Destroyer to warn the team, gets to Zeb and Kanan just before they get ganked at the cell block. Sabine cuts the gravity, leaves a lot of explosives at the control room, but Ezra gets caught on the way out. The Ghost crew makes it to hyper before finding this out from Zeb, vote on going back or not. Kallus makes a pretext of questioning Ezra (note: I think it’s meant as legit, but it felt lackluster), and then Ezra escapes as the Ghost crew arrives to rescue him. They meet up part way and book it, only to find that while escaping, Ezra overheard where the wookies REALLY were being held. Off they go to Kessel to save the wookiees! Fight scene at the spice mines, leading to Kanan using the lightsaber and getting ID’d as a Jedi, Ezra faces off against Kallus to save a kid wookiee, the team escapes. Kanan offers Ezra a chance to join up and learn to use the Force, and away they go to a dramatic voice-over by Obi-Wan via holocron recording.

Random impressions:

These wookiees are AWFUL

PLASTIC FOR YOU, PLASTIC FOR YOU, BAD ACTION FIGURES OF EEEEEEVERYONE

I really, REALLY, R E A L L Y don’t like Hera. She’s advertised as team leader and Space!Mom, but all I keep seeing is manipulative bullshit. Apparently letting Ezra take the holocron was a test to see if he was Force sensitive. Her comment in the Ghost the last episode about “If all you do is fight for your own life, then your life is worth nothing” - aaaagh. That – I get what they’re TRYING to say, about having Purpose is good, but having been in A Very Bad Place where all I could do was cling by my fingernails and try to take care of myself because 1, no one else would and 2, that was literally all I could manage – that just smacks me in the face with guilt-tripping. I know it’s not meant to be that, just...UGH. At best, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I’m going to continue side-eyeing her until she proves she’s not ACTUALLY an asshole, and yes, that is apparently an uphill battle.

The rescued wookiees say that if the Ghost crew “ever need help, they’ll be there” - THAT BETTER PAY OUT BEFORE THE SERIES IS OVER. (spoiler: Wookieepedia indicates it does not. I am disappoint, though I will keep an eye out in case it’s wrong.)

I am totally convinced now that Ezra HAS actually been using the Force awhile. The way he somersaults over crates into cover – dodging blaster bolts – and then later over a trooper to get between him and a Wookiee kid – that’s something Ezra KNOWS he can do. Like, past experience doing that sort of leap. I want to see how this interacts with Kanan’s lessons.

Kanan dodges bolts a lot more than he reflects them, but when he does they tend to take out troopers effectively. Someone’s spent time practicing.

Speaking of, he goes WAY hard on the Stoic Holy Jedi (With A Lightsaber Up His Ass) thing. Ugh. I want the goofy smuggler more. That’s more fun, AND show’s growth away from his past. We’ll see how that interacts with right now he’s trying to Jedi because oh noes, it’s a padawan (WHUT DOOOOOO)!

When Kanan shows up to save Ezra, he’s is riding on top the ghost, which pops up alongside the catwalk. ....meaning Mr. Drama Llama opened the doors to a shipping crate in flight and somehow flipped his way up to the top of the ship, OR lightsabered his way an exit through the TOP of the crate, which I hope was done carefully or they took out parts of the magnetic seal keeping the crate attached to the bottom of the ship. ...Jedi. SIGH. WHY COULD NO ONE MAKE A CRACK ABOUT THAT? YES IT WAS IMPRESSIVE, BUT THEN AFTERWARDS IT MAKES A GREAT TENSION RELEASE TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT WAS UNUSUAL. Meh. Ok, that one’s probably me being too finicky.

Sabine left about 20 explosives in the control room. Just one of those has been shown to be enough to blast open doors and destroy a speeder bike. HOW MUCH BOOM DO YOU NEED? I mean, ok, this leads to a hole in the side of the super star destroyer (venting atmosphere! :D That was some LOVELY animation and there WAS squee about that!)

Zeb is a gods damned wreck. If he were less physically violent, I would pick him as a favorite, because interesting non-human and it’s clearly trauma and not knowing how to people that leads to him being...him. However, I can’t get over the way he’s THAT rough. There’s a line between “you’re dealing with old issues poorly, and that expresses itself through (at best) roughhousing and not gauging your own strength” and “you’re beating up on others and using your trauma as an excuse for it, and we all know how well ‘cool motive still murder’ works as a defense.”

When Ezra left, Chopper made sad bwoops and waved goodbye in a non-sarcastic way. Whut.

The animators are still not getting clear direction. The bit that really jumped out at me was when Ezra saves the kid wookiee, he’s shown hoisting the kid’s cuffed hands and looking all puzzled at the binders – and we just saw how he IMMEDIATELY knew how to pick those things open on the adult wookiees. Possibly just me being nitpicky again, but it’s very jarring to me.

The “I swear, if he gets left behind again it is not my fault!” bit showed up, and I can’t tell if that’s them trying to make the repetition is funny thing, or establishing a trend? I mean, I COULD see a longer running...not gag, but trend, of Zeb having to either leave or haul Ezra out of things and them bitching at each other over this for YEAAAAARS until it’s just an easy thing, a well-worn way to poke at a friend like an affable punch to the shoulder that is just a thing they do. Which could be cute, if done right.

Hopefully more coherent views:

The inter-group dynamics are wild, and I don’t think I mean that in a complimentary sense. Zeb is just...kinda broken, ok. Sabine was kind of a non-entity through most of this. I don’t have the spoons to count her lines, but the most memorable thing that she did was want to know how the explosion looked. Which...ok? I guess? Hera had more characterization, and we got the Competent!Pilot thing – along with the Manipulative Asshole thing, which yeah, I’m eyeballing a LOT more. Chopper came across as irritable and generally a cranky old man, which would fly better if Zeb wasn’t already trying to squat on that territory. It makes things feel more grating than perhaps they are. Kanan is your average Jedi but in better clothes, and I can’t tell how much sanctimoniousness is he doesn’t know how to teach, how much is just discomfort, and how much is I don’t like the manipulation of Ezra.

As for Ezra, he’s got some NEAT skills. I...kinda like the whole “nope, I’m not a hero, not running out there in a the middle of a blaster fight to save some rando” attitude because it’s hints of the hero’s journey having far to go, but there’s not enough heart of gold for me to give any shits. He’s TOO caught up in his own situation for me to care (and while I don’t blame him as a character for that, it makes him a third-rate Aladdin archetype. All the ‘in the rough’ but no ‘diamond’).

Kallus is satisfying to dislike, for all that he feels like a poor man’s Thrawn. The temper tantrum of kicking the surviving stormtrooper off the catwalk was gratuitous, but fine. We’re not supposed to like him. (Yes, I know about later, but I’m ignoring that at the moment.)

So. Yaye, I guess. We have our characters, we have our villain and our on-the-sidelines villain in the Inquisitor waiting to swoop in to be all mastermind badguy. We have our setup, and a few potential threads to follow back on.

End summary:

That was a weak (second half to a) first episode. I mean, again, that’s not a killer, but nothing about the show grabs me and goes “ISN’T THIS THING AWESOME???” There’s too much internal conflict without enough glue to bond people together, I have strong reasons to dislike almost everyone (and the rest are too undeveloped yet to really hit me one way or another). With the animation doing nothing for me, it’s...getting no traction so far.

#rebels critical #star wars rebels #thinky thoughts #long post is long #throwing popcorn at rebels #spoilers #yes i am this slow watching media

17 notes · View notes

coconutshvings · 5 years

Text

ATZ Reaction: You live in a bad part of town/neighborhood {Hyung Line}

∵ Group || Ateez

∵ Genre || Highschool AU

∵ Warnings || Mentions of drugs, swearing, some are shorter than others , typos

This story is not to be offensive to anyone, I didn't grow up in the best neighborhood myself while living in Chicago, this is strictly a story to show that a person who truly loves you wouldn't care where you came from even if it wasn't the best enviroment, also, never let the enviroment you grew up in mold you into a person unless that's what you personally want ~ WR:Le ♡

Hongjoong:

The Grey sky out side hid any signs of light in it as rain poured down heavily causing small but loud thuds to hit all over his vehicle, sketchy figures would pass by ever now and again while others stood infront of the decaying apartment buildings that he parked across from.

This area wasn't one he had been in often, at all actually. However, he made this trip to come and see you well- give you your geography study book for you upcoming quiz that you needed to study. All be it he'd see you and maybe make a small conversation because if it wasn't clear since Junior year, he liked you, a lot.

He'd seen your information including your number written on the book and gave you a call to which you told him to just drop off to you at the address he was sitting at now, waiting. The delicate knock on his window caught him and he looked to see you in your rain resistance hoodie squinting in the droplets. He quickly grabbed your book from his passenger seat rolling down the window and handing it to you with a gentle smile that spoke of his adoration for you.

"I was beginning to think you'd written the wrong address down." He lightly joked speaking loudly over the rain making you smile "Why, because this isn't the neighborhood you pictured me living in?" Hongjoong's eyes were screaming and you could sew his panicking figure,

"I was joking! I know you aren't some uppity entitled person." His body visibly "Good because I'd never be that way towards anyone." You nodded understanding not noticing the rain quieted down and so did your voices.

"I'll see you tomorrow in fifth period?" , He smiled at your question "Of course. Let me know if you need a studying partner."

"Will do."

Seonghwa:

Never in a million years did he think you'd be ashamed to be walked somewhere, you enjoyed his company but he'd never asked to walk you home before even though you quickly said no it was easy to change that answer when you seen the hurt and question on his face. So here you were, quietly walking home hand in hand, Seonghwa was walking on sunshine after you'd changed your answer he didn't notice your longing face before you could Cross the street you abruptly halted pulling at his hand causing him to sling backwards,

"This walk is long I don't want you to endure it." You spoke suspiciously but he hadn't caught it "More time with you." He simply replied before attempting to walk again but once again being stopped by you,

"Then you'll have to walk back alone." ,

"I'll call for a ride once I get in front of your house." The pulse in your neck began to jump as he clearly didn't understand why you kept making excuses, you had to flat out tell him now,

"I don't want you to walk me home," you searched his eyes for any sign of anger but they were just boring into your own, "because it's not safe for.. Y'know, you." This made him scoff in a comedic tone,

"You think because you live somewhere that you personally consider to be dangerous that it's personally not safe for me? Y/n I have friends that live in your neighborhood, I have friends everywhere." You were taken aback "You do?"

"You think all my friend live in golden gated communities with foutains in every yard? No. They come from all walk of life, I'm not scared of a neighborhood, I'm scared of you being too ashamed of where you come from to not let me see it because you shouldn't be, ever."

Looking at the sincerity and determination in his eyes with evident sparkles as well you'd lost for sure, "I'm sorry for trying to deny this walk and sort of categorizing you." Seonghwa deeply sighed, "It's alright, you don't ever have to be ashamed of your upbringing, family, anything with me. I like you regardless." That was such a relief to hear.

Yunho:

He simply followed the directions you'd given him to your house, you stayed on the phone with him as he walked just in case he got into any trouble, "I don't need you to babysit me over the phone." He tried to sound convincing, "Yeah you do. I'm not hanging up and you better not either."

You sternly said. Yunho knew all about this sketchy side of town, the high crime rates, drug hideouts or half way houses, police sirens were heard at least 3 times a day but he didn't care he was coming to his love either way no matter the stakes it'd only prove his feelings more with the lengths he was willing to go,

"I can follow directions well." He heard you chuckle "Good now follow my directions and don't hang up this phone." Yunho loved your take charge attitude especially when it was for his good, "You definitely run this relationship, huh?" ,

"Only when you're too tired or unconscious to." He could feel your grinning smile though he couldn't see it , "I promise I'll make it there safely baby I'm almost there, I think," Yunho spoke teasing you knowing you'd start to stress a bit "Yunho do I-" ,

"That was a joke I'm not lost." He could hear you grumble annoyed, "I'm on this street name-" Yunho's sentence was caught off with an oomf you listened closely to hear if he was okay. Yunho stood up dusting himself off after he hit a hard yet soft object, human object.

He was busy searching for his phone to look at the angry trio of men looking his way ready to skin him alive.

"You have no knowledge about watching where the fuck you're going kid or are you just empty headed all together?" A gruff voice spoke startling Yunho, he finally looked up seeing the three males with menace like features, they all looked as if they could break his entire skull with a single punch without much muscle.

"I apologize, really. I'll be out of your way." He tried to smooth over the situation a rough laugh was heard "You'll be out of everyone's way if I get my hands on you." Another man spoke though Yunho's shakey eyes never left the man in front of him he could see the remaining two men swiftly move there hands to their inside jacket pockets, he'd seen movies like this either they'd pull out a deadly weapon or a lollipop.

"Uhm, it'll never happen again sir- sirs." He corrected stumbling over his own words. "If it does nothing will happen to him anyway." An all too familiar voice added, never had Yunho whirled around so quickly "Y/N?!" A Tone of fear, relief, and excitement was heard his his voice,

"You know this clown?" Yunho's eyes were screaming for you both to make a break for it, "Yes Uncle Roy, this is my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!"

"Uncle?!"

They both chimed in union but you ignored both grabbing Yunho's hand and pulling him away from your uncle and his goons.

"I don't need protecting," You mocked him "You walked past the block you were supposed to turn on Mr. 'I can follow directions well'" you scolded playfully

"My phone." Was all Yunho could say.

Yeosang:

He loved being on this side of town, the graffiti run down buildings, people on every corner looks ranging from lovely people to those parents would warn to stay away from but Yeosang didn't care.

He was a long way from home but that didn't matter, the pot holes that filled the streets in this part of town the corner stores that lit up almost every street was different from the clean cut grass and untarnished pavements that usually surrounded him, it was all so suffocating and too clean cut for him.

He wanted to explore every enviroment and have friends in all it may be a strange task but he wasn't one for the normal anyway, the unknown excited him even if it was dangerous.

He walked the side walk with weeds growing out of some of the cracks happily looking at the busy streets and in the store windows in business or out, cracked or squeaky clean. "Yeosang?" A voice carried through the air, "Yeosang over here!" His eyes scanned and scanned until he saw you attempting to Cross the busy street,

you looked to him like a pretty yet unprotected rare artifact that he wanted to keep for himself, Heaven knew he carried this deep care and emotion for you that most would describe as a crush.

He waited til you safely crossed in front of him to speak "Didn't think I'd see you over this way." , "I live over here you however are a long way away from home aren't you?" Yeosang Shrugged "I like the scenery."

You looked past him then back to him "What scenery? There aren't any museums or statues around , this part of town isn't the best." You admitted,

"Which is what makes it great, it's not some land of perfection where you can't breath longer than 7 seconds," you raised your brow at him asking him to explain further making him sigh,

"Okay I know it sounds ungrateful, I truly blessed to have grew up in the enviroment that I did but it's also blocking me from the rest of the world, leaving me unprepared and curious, I have opportunities in my neighborhood but still so many restrictions."

You hummed "And what opportunities do you think you'll have out here?" He thought for a moment "You guys have the best hip hop dance classes here, they only teach contemporary and well, everything but hip hop based anything or remotely related to the genre where I live."

You laughed at his almost tantrum like attitude, "So you're looking for a place to take dance classes at out here?" You asked with him sending a nod in response. "You could help me look for one if you're not busy?" He questioned "I could . I was only going to buy some junk food but that can wait, I know this town front and back, "

You could see the cheerful hope in his eyes that begged you to help him find a dance studio where he could be free so you couldn't deny his request, well, you didn't want to. "let's go find you a dance stuido." You finished seeing Yeosang cheer silently

"I'll buy you food after?" He offered "You definitely got me now." You grinned linking your arm with his as you both began to walk together to find him a nice spot to showcase his love for hip hop and dance while exploring the city and maybe the depths of your friendship as well.

175 notes · View notes