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finkinthisfrew · 8 months

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Anything (Pt.2)

A Matty Healy Fanfic

cw: non-lifethreatening burns

Chapter 2

I came to in what can only be described as a very peculiar situation. I was fully clothed, laying in a bathtub, soaking wet. Above me, I could see concrete ceilings with warm glowing lights, and a hand holding a showerhead. Cold water poured over my chest, and I sat upright quickly in a panic. Turning to see the owner of the hand, I was once again met with those chocolate eyes.

"What the fuck?" I said sitting up, head spinning too much to cringe at my ineloquence.

"I'm so sorry, I know this must be terrifying, but we're just in my flat which is above the coffee shop you were just at." My face must have shown my lack of understanding, so he continued. "I was being a complete bellend and was rushing to get to a meeting I was extremely late for and wasn't looking where I was going. I ran directly into you and when we crashed, my coffee poured all over you. I think with the fall and the shock from the hot coffee you passed out. I didn't know what else to do and your chest was bright red so I grabbed you and took you up here. Fuck me, I'm never asking for my coffee extra hot ever again..." he said, his hands in his head.

He looked up and said with such sincerity "I cannot begin to explain how sorry I am."

The shock from everything must have disoriented me because the first thought that I voiced was: "But what about your meeting?"

Caught off guard, he looked at me in confusion and then broke into a smile. It was such a charming smile. If I wasn't so disoriented I would have had half a mind to flirt with the handsome stranger who was taking care of me. I also would have half a mind to get up and run, but this man's energy was too genuine, too earnest, for me to feel in any danger.

"I called and cancelled it. Too busy burning beautiful strangers to do business today." He said rolling his eyes, half-flirting, half-self-patronizing. I laughed in response.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, the twinkle in his eyes replaced with concern.

"I think I'm okay." I stopped to assess myself. "I just feel a bit dazed, but otherwise I think I feel fine," I continued.

At that moment I felt myself begin to shiver. He must have noticed too because he then pulled the showerhead away and started to reach for a towel, but as soon as he did, my chest began to burn with such pain that all I could say was "Oh my God no, bring it back."

"Fuck, sorry!" he said, eyes pained as he turned the showerhead back to my burn. "I'm sorry I didn't think this through. I soaked all your clothes... Fuck I'm so sorry, I didn't know what else to do."

"That's okay," I said through chattering teeth.

"Here, hold this," he said, handing me the showerhead. "I'll be right back." He ran out of the bathroom, leaving me by myself. I shifted myself to let the water pour down my chest, avoiding my legs so I wouldn't feel as cold.

Waiting for the stranger to return, still in a bit of a daze, I looked around at my surroundings. The bathroom was thoughtfully decorated- nothing like the bathrooms of the men in my life. The entire room was concrete with high ceilings and a large frosted window. A few ivory towels were hanging on the wall and a bottle of Aesop soap sat next to a beautiful arrangement of dried flowers on the green-tiled sink. Unlit candles sat along a wood shelf that ran along the tub, and a beautiful Moroccan rug lay on the ground, bringing warmth to the almost art gallery-type style of the room.

As I looked around, I reflected on how oddly comfortable I felt, aside from the shivering. The stranger didn't feel like a stranger, somehow. His personality felt... almost familiar.

"Okay," I heard, as the man entered the bathroom again a few minutes later, arms full, breaking my train of thought.

Setting everything down on the wooden stool he'd previously been sitting on, he kneeled next to the tub and rambled on quickly: "Okay, so here is a mug of tea to warm you up a bit, I've only got peppermint though, I hope that's okay, and here are some painkillers- I could only find Advil but I'm pretty sure I've got some T3's hiding somewhere, I just need an extra minute to find them if you'd prefer those. I wasn't sure what would fit you, so I brought a few options- you can borrow those for as long as you like, hell you could even keep them, uhm, right and your burn, we can soak a towel in some cold water to put on it until the ice in my freezer freezes and I can put it in a bag for you- I apologize, I'm one of those knobheads who never refill the tray, so we'll have to wait a bit for that..."

He must have read my shock as fear, because he then added "And the door to leave is just through this room, straight ahead at the end of this hall down the stairs, just so you know- I don't want you to feel like a hostage. You don't have to stay," he said, wide-eyed. "I just feel bad soaking all your clothes. And for bulldozing you. And for burning you. Fuck, I've really made such a mess of things for you, I am so incredibly sorry."

Realizing I hadn't yet, I accepted his apology. "Thank you, but it's really not a big deal. I'm just in a bit of a shock, but I think I'm okay." I said, looking down at myself, not seeing any blisters or blood anywhere. His eyes still looked pained, so I tagged on "I forgive you, you know," playfully, and his tense face seemed to soften a bit, smiling back at me. "You really shouldn't, I really am trouble," he said winking cheekily.

I then realized that my initial shock was wearing off, and it was being replaced by a new one. This man was so incredibly handsome. His chocolate eyes were framed with beautiful dark brown curls that fell across his forehead perfectly. His eyes crinkled with such kindness and warmth, I felt my stomach flutter. His smile was upending, impossible to not smile back at. I had just noticed his chest tattoo peaking through the top of his white t-shirt when I saw he had a brown stain all over his front.

"Wait, are you okay?" I said, pointing to the coffee stain. He looked down to see the stain he'd clearly forgotten about. "Oh yeah, no I'm totally fine. Honestly, I think you took the brunt of it, poor thing. Again, really sorry about that."

"You say sorry a lot," I responded, smiling.

"I have lots to be sorry about, unfortunately," he said, chuckling lightly.

"You sure you don't want a turn?" I asked, gesturing to the showerhead.

"Yeah, no I think I'm fine." He said, scowling playfully.

I must have been concussed slightly because I then said "Actually... I think you're not being totally honest with me. I think you might like a turn." I then turned the shower head to him, quickly and lightly spraying him before returning the stream of water to my burn.

Mouth agape, he looked at me and said "You little minx." I giggled in response. "You DID assault me and then soak all my clothes... I think it's only fair..." I said with a devilish tone.

"You wouldn't dare," he scoffed.

That was all the encouragement I needed, and he must have seen that in my eyes because right as I turned the showerhead back at him, he hopped up to his feet. Both of us laughing, he stretched his arms out to block the cold water that now soaked him.

"Mercy, mercy!" he begged while laughing.

I lowered the stream of water, and I momentarily admired the new tattoos I could see through his now-soaked t-shirt. Taking advantage of my mercy, he lunged at my hands to grab the showerhead from me. I turned to pull it out of his reach, but he was faster, arms around me gripping at the handle.

"Now you're in trouble, pet" he laughed, and I squealed in his arms as he sprayed me. I wriggled around trying to escape the stream and I yelled "I yield!" when he lowered the stream back to my burn, both still laughing, his arm still around my waist.

Our giggles dying down, we stood there, much too close for two strangers.

The energy shifted as we both noticed the intimacy of the moment. Panting from the laughter, he looked down at me as I looked up at him. His eyes, whatever was going on behind them, did something to me- my stomach sent into a frenzy of summersaults. His curls dripped with water down onto my face, a single drop hanging from his parted lips. I looked back up from his lips to his eyes and saw his eyes returning to mine from my own lips. We stood there for what could have been hours or seconds, I couldn't tell from all the butterflies that roared in my stomach.

Overwhelmed, I dropped my gaze, the intensity of the moment causing me to break it. He cleared his throat and pulled his arm away, once again apologizing.

"Sorry really is your favourite word, isn't it?" I said, attempting to break the tension. Once again, he smiled and I felt woozy from it.

"Not my favourite, but it's definitely up there." He said, handing me a towel with a cheeky smile. He grabbed another towel and started to pat his hair dry.

"I'll leave you to change, I'm going to go change too after my well-deserved payback soaking." He winked before he continued "Take your time. Once you've finished you can meet me in the living room- it's through here, past the stairs, at the end of the hallway."

"Thank you," I said, genuinely. We smiled at each other, as he pulled the door shut behind him.

Shell-shocked, I turned to look at myself in the mirror. I stared at my soaked and stained clothes, hair dripping wet, and face bewildered.

What have I gotten into?

#matty the 1975 #the 1975 #matty healy #at their very best #trumanblack #bfiafl #tenderness #caring #lovers #love #fanfic #fanfiction

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valeriele3 · 1 year

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Hello hellooo~ How's your day? Hope It's been good!

I see that you write for Enstars?

I've read the rules so here I am..! If what I'm about to request though violates a rule whatsoever please ignore/delete this request

If it doesn't bother you too much..Can I please request a yandere or self-aware (Or maybe both yandere and self-aware combined?) Ritsu Sakuma x Reader?

~Sincerely, Ritsu simp Rin <3

Ritsu Sakuma x GN!Reader

Warnings: Yandere, ooc, mention of harm that can be inflicted physically or mentally and mentions of a nasty co-worker

Summary: Ritsu’s jealousy and anger got the best of him

Hi hiii~ Don’t worry as you didn’t violate a rule and the self-aware/Yandere isss part of what I accept soo it’s alright

Also this may or may not have some things that happened to me in-game cough cough the start cough cough

I apologize for the ooc and hope you enjoy this <3

Btw..Important A/N in the end and apologies in advance for the massive cringe that’ll bring you back to 2018 or smth

“I swear if they do the La Mort event next..”

“Sigh..It’s because of that Limited Chiaki and the current collab that I lost my savings..”

“My poor beloved Ritsu..I’m so so sorry”

In the screen Ritsu seems to be asleep but in reality..Ritsu is awake

Ritsu was and still is listening to his beloved darling go on about how they lost their saving

Ritsu looks calm and peaceful on the screen but inside he is fuming with anger, annoyance, and jealousy

‘Tch..Those diamonds were meant for ME and ME only..! It isn’t fair! They used up everything in the Antique’s Fair event too..What’s so great about those two? They already have my cards, isn’t that enough?!’

‘But..At least they didn’t pull in that bastards fc’

‘No matter. They’ll be in my arms and mine alone soon’

‘Just wait for me darling. I’ll come get you soon’

“The heck? Why’d Ritsu laugh out of no where lmao”

‘Oops’

“Hmm..Judging from the line of events in the JP one the La Mort event is still super far off..The one with Little Romance will even come first..”

“WAIT NO! FUCK! THE ART OF RITSU IN THAT IS ONE THAT A 5 STAR CARD HAS FUCK FUCK FUCK IM SO FUCKED! MY BELOVED IM SO SO SORRY!!”

‘Sigh..They’re panicking again. But, I’m glad that’s how much they love and care about me..’

‘Maybe we really are meant to be..No, we are meant to be’

‘Maybe I should..’

“Eh? HappyEle you are the absolute best! Ehehehheeheh another free 10 scouts for me~!”

“ ‘Due to some issues with [KNIGHTS] Ritsu Sakuma’s voice lines we have issued out free 10x Idol Jewel (Ritsu Sakuma). We apologize for any inconvenience’ Sweet! And ten too!”

‘Do you like my gifts darling? Hopefully you won’t find it too suspicious if I were to send in some more’

Ritsu says to himself as he watches you peacefully sleep after a long day of work

“Looking at your face calms me down..I swear, I hate that guy so much! Can’t he see no one likes him? Everyone in the office avoids that bastard yet he still can’t see it. He’s so lucky he’s my superior, if not I would’ve punched him so many times already”

‘This person again..I swear I’ll kill him.’

‘How DARE he touch what’s mine’

‘That’s it. Tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow, I simply can’t wait anymore’

“Another day, another grind”

“Hm? Is Ritsu glitching? Love? You okay?”

“I’m alright, Darling”

“Huh? Wha—”

Soo..Yeah..I got lazy..Please take this cringe Yandere Ritsu (ㆀ˘･з･˘)

Important A/N: I KNOW THAT’S YOU! You can’t hide yourself from me “Rin”. Don’t you “I see you write for Enstars?” Me, you know I do (⌒▽⌒) Also pls give me back my Ritsu keychain

#☆〜valerie's own work #ensemble stars #enstars #enstars ritsu #ritsu sakuma #ritsu sakuma x reader #yandere enstars x reader #yandere ensemble stars #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #self aware au #self aware enstars #yandere au

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ppgxrrblove · 2 years

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so yeah t..this just happen to drop on the feed of ppg on twitter - pretty sure some of you saw it earlier then me, yet i still wanted to share it to you all on here as well :D i have soo much to comment down here; i love the first animation it's gorgeously appealing to look at, the second animation of them being cut out drawn version is cute too, i adore very much that they kept their designs just spiced it up a bit in a cuter fashion, the next animations tho...i don't like the muscle one; it reminds me of the reboot..ugh made me cringe very hard that it really wasn't good idea to add that there, and the finale one that i didn't like as well was the ghost one..yeahhhh i get it it's supposed to be spoopy buut i am not into it much not stating that i didn't like the 8bit art style nahh i love it but i just - i would've love to see them as not skeleton but rather something else. what else? i loved the 80's vibe art style it was cute, the bouncy old cartoon organic was great to look at and the finale one with them being all mojo jojo evil was such a reference to hard core bubbles episode haha :D. cute but wacky. now, after looking through the comment section of the post itself i found out that it's a commercial - that's it...which begs to make people think, or come up with theorize that maybe, just maybe,, cn may bring the girls back again..but in a different tone and they just wanna wait correctly to see how the public would react to the design there displaying here. - i now the other ones are popping in indicating that it's just a commercial but the base one is the one that just stands out makes it apparent of it being that style , ya know? so...if my assumption of them possibly wanting to re-do the trashy reboot and not reboot them but rather bring the girls back organically then that would be wonderful to see, however, i have doubts of CN doing the right thing..seen there twitter account and i highly doubt it..but one can hope they may re-bring them from the dead lol. finally someone mentioned that they maybe going based off the powerpuff world..i have 0 knowledge on this information so if anybody can please just discusses about it - would be nice to know.

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greyskyflowers · 11 months

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Everyone seems to have a lot of spare change lately so here's my two cents. ~ 🪙🪙

I am so excited for the One Piece live action.

I love the cast, they seem just as excited as us about the show and actors who love their roles always find their way into my heart. 💙

I am so excited to see how people have transformed these characters and their stories to the live action world.

I adore this adventure. I love these characters.

Like, if someone dressed up potatoes in little outfits to look like the crew and rolled them around a toy boat, I'd watch it. I'm always excited to see more content.

Is it going to be weird and cringe? Probably. Let's be honest, the manga is weird and cringe sometimes. And I love it.

Is it going to have flaws? Yes, absolutely. Because the anime/manga world does not transfer to the human world the way some of you seem to think it does.

Too much of the anime makes everything look like bad cosplay and not enough makes it hard to figure out what the original was based on.

This looks like a good mix.

So far it already look so visually pleasing and the child in me that grew up watching One Piece screamed in excitement because she never would have imagined it got to this point.

It's going to bring in a whole new wave of people who love One Piece. They'll bring new ideas, new fan art, new fics and how great is that?

How wonderful if is that this little, rag-tag pirate crew gets a chance to speak to a whole new audience? I can't wait to see all the people gain in interest in One Piece because of this.

You don't have to like it. And you don't have to be quiet about not liking it, you can say whatever you want because that's how the internet works.

But I wish we just enjoyed things more instead of being so critical. I wish we had more childlike excitement and warm affection for things, even if they're not the best.

Just don't watch it if you don't want to. Please don't bring down the excitement that others have.

Plus Oda was involved in the live action, right? Seems kind of arrogant to think you could do it better.

#one piece live action #personal opinion #people who decide to bitch at me in comments or tags will be blocked immediately 💙#one piece #op #setting sail with greyskyflowers

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ask-de-writer · 6 months

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Return to the Master Story Index

Return to CLASSICAL FANTASIES

THE FISHERMAN'S LEG (Part 20 of 20)

A sequel to Dee 1/2 Demon

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

25570 words

TUMBLR EXEMPTION

Blog holding members of Tumblr.com may freely reblog this story provided that the title, author and copyright information remain intact, unaltered, and are displayed at the head of the story.

Fan art, stories, music, cosplay and other fan activity is actively encouraged.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

New to the story? Read from the beginning HERE.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

The others all laughed but just a little thoughtfully. As they were leaving the Tribunal, Takahara shook her head and noted, “I am less good than I thought. I find myself hoping that Minami will try to escape and thereby lose his head.”

High Priest Nandi san nodded a bit sadly, “Beings such as Minami often bring such thoughts to disturb the tranquility of the mind and heart. It is not a discredit to you that you feel so. It is a natural response to such as he. In his own way, he is worse than most Oni.”

Tanira looked up at the angle of the sun as she and her new daughters strolled towards the waterfront and asked Patsu, “Have we still time to launch the Rising Dawn today? It seems to be fine weather for it.”

Patsu looked about, smiling at kites being flown from one of two small hills just out of the village. She agreed, “It is a fine day and yes, we have plenty of time.

“Mikore told me that they are offering fried dumplings with minced crab filling over at our market. Let's grab some of those or other goodies, some rice and tea. We have plenty of time for a nice, if late, noon meal before we launch her.”

The crab dumplings were actually quite good. They were all happily agreed that the best item was a new offering. Sand shark fillet steamed first and then tempura dipped and fried to a light golden tan. Tea, rice, and some stir fried vegetables finished the meal nicely.

The newly finished Rising Dawn was pulled out of the Chiasu Estate boat house where it had been moved after the hull was done to finish setting up her rigging and sail. Using a pulling block and the same cart that was used to put away their smaller rental rowing boats, she was eased down the boat ramp to the water by the dock.

Several of the men owning some of the other fishing boats came to watch, faces clouded, brows drawn down in anger. “Tanira san, why are you setting up a boat for serious fishing? Do you really think that you can cut us out or lower the prices that you pay us?”

Tanira shook her head at their rudeness. “No, Satura san, we are not in any way trying to cut you out of anything. If you had only waited to see how the Rising Sun is rigged, you would know that. My boat is set up for trolling and the like line fishing.

“What we seek are cod, snappers, and such things. For you they are an occasional lucky by catch. If you have them, you will continue to get the same good prices as you have been.”

“One of my men told me that Minami . . .”

Patsu interrupted, “The child murdering thief who was just this day divorced from the honorable Tanira san? You expect him to say anything that would not cause her further harm?

“Even after it was proved in the Tribunal that all of his lies about Dee san being some sort of Sorcerous monster were totally false, he still tried to blame her for all of his problems! He ordered us to not finish healing his leg but still blames us for it not being neatly healed.

“He is madder than a sand flea!”

Abashed, Satura san cringed back a little and looked down, scraping his sandal on the wood of the dock. “That is true. We followed his lead and respected him for many years. I apologize for our unjust behavior.”

Tanira straightened up, bowing acceptance, she asked, “So will we be seeing you tomorrow at the public dock to buy your fish?”

“We will be there, Tanira san. I heard that you adopted Minara san and Takahara san. That is well done. We have seen how well you all work together and get along.

“May we watch the sea trials of your Rising Dawn?”

Dee chuckled as she strapped herself into floats, “Of course you may!” She pointed to the floats and added, “Yes, I can swim, though I don't really like to. My Aspect of Fire doesn't really get along with water!”

That drew a general laugh.

With all made ready, they cast off from the dock, stern line first and then the bow. A solid push from a boat hook gave them the room to unship the oars and begin rowing the Rising Dawn out a ways from the dock.

They let the boat coast while they raised the sail. It rose up along the fairly short mast, spreading out into a triangular fan shape, reaching from nearly the bow back just short of the stern and lifting well above the top of the mast. About a third of the sail was in front of the mast.

The Rising Dawn began to drift sideways. Wisely, one of the watchers commented, “Wind's wrong for this. It's going to just push them back to shore.”

Another of the watchers, shading his eyes with his hand, replied, “Don't think so. See, they are picking up speed going across the wind.”

Satura san added, “They are turning into the wind! Look! They are tacking around forty or forty five degrees into the wind. Now they are turning again! Still steep into the wind but coming back . . . And again, going back like they were before. Zigzaging right into the wind! I will have to talk to them about that rig! I might want to do one like it for my Sea Gull!”

They all watched as the Rising Dawn went sidways to the wind but slowly now. “They've put out a boom of some sort. I expect that is for their trolling.” Only a little time passed before, “Whoops! They either got a snag or they hooked something fair sized! Look at that boom bend!”

Aboard the Rising Dawn, Tanira and the girls were excitedly watching the trolling boom / crane bend nearly to the water. Patsu was manning the boom's line winch. She was counseling the others, “Get the big framed net to finish catching it! Takahara san, be ready to club it on the head when it is safely in the net! Be ready with a boat hook to the gills to finish pulling it in!

“Look! We can see it now! That snapper must be nearly a pace and a half long!”

The next few minutes were an organized chaos as they netted the fish in the framed net and pulled it up snug to the side of the boat! Takahara wielded the stout club to it's head to kill it! Dee slid the boat hook into it's gills and lifted the big snapper into the boat. It only took a moment to get the hook free and put the near monster into the catch box.

The triumphant girls made all sail for the public docks of Sabo, close to the Fish Market! Along the way, they caught three sand sharks as well! It was not long before they dropped the sail and finished their approach by oars.

The young women watching the Fish Market for Tanira saw them coming and sprinted down to the dock, pulling the cart with the box for fish on it!

The fishermen converged on them too! All wanted to know, “What did you catch!?”

As they were opening the Rising Dawn's catch box, Patsu smirked, “Just three moderate size sand sharks! And the biggest snapper that Sabo's ever seen!”

As they were loading the cart, one of the girls that had been watching the Fish Market was weeping quietly.

Miko asked gently, “Ontara san, what has you upset? You did a wonderful job keeping the Fish Market open and this trial of the Rising Dawn has gone very well.”

Ontara sniffled, “I wish that Ichuru was here to see it. I gave him the toy boat that got him drowned.”

Miko gave her a hug and replied, “No, Ontara san, it was not the toy boat that got him drowned. It was Minami, whose mind was twisted to evil by his leg.”

“His leg? What was wrong with his leg?”

Miko shook her head in bemusement as she explained, “He thought that he was transported to the Hospice by magic because he did not understand that he gave himself a deadly case of Gangrene. That started his fears. Then he thought that he saw us do something evil and forbade us to finish healing it. That caused a great scar that his working pants always hid. Only he was bothered by it but it drove him mad that he was scarred. That and his fear drove him to attacking us with lies, slanders, and even trying to ruin things of ours. It was that same madness that made him kidnap Ichuru and take him out in a stolen fishing boat.

“He demanded that a ten year old boy prove that he was a man by taking off the floats that would have saved him when he did fall in. His father and the others did not even notice when he went overboard.

“It was Minami, who drove himself to madness because of his leg, that killed Ichuru. His father gave him only anger and hate. You gave him a wonderful toy that he loved.

The END

<==PREVIOUS

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to CLASSICAL FANTASIES

#THE FISHERMAN'S LEG #Part 20 of 20 #Classical Fantasy #sequel to DEE 1/2 DEMON #Written by De Writer

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copiousloverofcopia · 2 years

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NEW Ghost Sequel Snippet!!!

Here is my next of many sequel snippets that coincide with my larger Prime Mover universe stories for the Papas!

This time round we have the charismatic Terzo with his willful Prime Mover Alessandra in....

DracuMena

Mostly SFW below the cut, also available on AO3! Base story, Tied As One Eternally.

As always taking asks and requests!!!

(art for the fic from @meowsaidmissy)

It was a dark and stormy night at the Abbey, the kind perfect for rituals and summoning. The eerie feeling of being watched falling, like a veil, over the siblings and ghouls alike. All of them were nervous. A few siblings had already been attacked this night and with the storm having no end in sight, they anxiously awaited to see who would be next? The power had been out for over an hour, leaving the whole of the Abbey in candlelight and darkness.

“I am holding it still, damn.” Aether said, as Mountain nagged him to keep the ladder straight. Mountain, Aether, and Dew were all outside, tasked to get the generator up and running. Mountain was hanging haphazardly off the ladder, trying to reach where he needed inside the generator's housing, the groaning Dew was doing, not helping.

“I don’t understand why it’s gotta be us.” Dew complained. The others shrugging him off to continue the task at hand. The ghouls knew that getting the power back up would help settle the unrest within the Abbey.

“Dew quit your griping, the Cardinal asked us to help, so we’re gonna follow orders…got it?” Aether snapped. Dew crossed his arms, continuing to not contribute and practically pouting off to the side. The wind started to pick up and was howling through the trees, the rumbling of thunder growing closer. Even the ghouls felt the unease keeping them on edge. Were ghouls immune from the attacks?

Little did they know, while they hurried to bring back light to the Abbey, a bloodthirsty creature lie in wait–watching them. The creature approached slowly, zeroing in on the intended prey. The snap of a twig breaking grabbing the ghouls’ attention as it echoed loudly nearby. The ghouls’ tails stood straight up on end, their ears piqued.

“What? Dew was that you?” Mountain asked, peeking his head back out from inside the opening of the housing unit.

“No, what in the–” Dew said, searching the blackness of the churchyard for a sign of any disturbance. He couldn’t see much until finally he could just make out a small figure moving within the grass.

“Oh…” Aether said, knowing what was able to happen. Suddenly the creature bit down on Dew’s leg, a stinging pain–nagging like a puppy bite to his ankle.

“Ow, fuck you little–” Dew yelped, grabbing his ankle and clenching his teeth. The other ghouls, laughing hysterically. So much in fact that, Aether stopped to cringe, having almost let go of the ladder.

“Watch that tone ghoul.” a voice chided. Dew looked up from the little teeth marks in his ankle to see Terzo. He stood in the churchyard, draped in a full red satin-lined cape and his hair slicked back, a golden grucifix pendant hanging from his neck. Standing next to him, clad in a black tulle tutu and sparkling webbed purple cape, was none other than the adorable, yet villainous, DracuMena!

Terzo’s daughter was the cutest little vampire the church had ever seen–receiving her good looks undoubtedly from her mother Alessandra and her mischievous nature from her father. Alessandra had made the mistake of letting Terzo watch Dracula with her and now anytime there was a storm the two of them “turned into vampires”.

“What the hell man?” Dew asked, the other ghouls' sides still aching from laughter.

“Wahahaha! Very good, my tesoro! We have taken another victim.” Terzo said, wrapping his cape in front of him, mimicking Dracula as he did. He scooped up little Filomena in his arms, a smile brightly shining on her face, so very proud of her accomplishment.

“Dewy tastes funny.” she said, making a face.

“I’m sure you are not the only one who thinks so kid.” Aether laughed, Dew slapping him in the back of the head. Terzo laughed along with the other ghouls, Mena holding tightly to her daddy, when another voice called out from within the dark.

“There you two are!” a very expectant and beautiful Alessandra said, her eyebrow cocked and hands on her widened hips. She was wearing her night robe and Terzo’s favorite of her black satin nightgowns, one he had gotten her recently in town when her other one became to0 small for her to wear, though he dare not say that.

“Alé what are you doing out here? It is cold and storming. I do not want you getting sick.” Terzo said, Mena dropping from his arms to run, arms wide open, into the embrace of her mother.

“Momma!” Mena said, hitting Alé full force with the warmest of hugs. Alessandra was pushed back a bit, protecting her belly from the impact of her willful daughter.

“Oh Mena, be careful…,” she began, turning her attention to Terzo, “My love, I'm pregnant, not breakable.” she said, holding her daughter closely.

“Who says cara mia?” Terzo asked, lifting his brows to her and placing his hand on the swell of her belly.

“You worry too much.” Alessandra laughed, placing her hand over his, their son kicking away inside her.

“He is very active tonight, si? Must be the storm.” Terzo began with a smile, then turned to address the ghouls, “Where are we with the power boys?” he asked. Dew shrugged, still mad about getting bested by a preschooler.

“I think I'm almost–” Mountain began as a loud rumbling began and then followed the lights from within the Abbey shining brightly into the courtyard.

“Lights are on momma!” Filomena cheered.

“Yes baby, are you ready to go back inside and tell Zio Secondo how many victims you managed to get tonight.” she asked her, Mina nodding her head in excitement.

“Hey I helped.” Terzo said, crossing his arms. Alessandra laughed and Terzo could hear the ghouls snickering behind him.

“I’m sure you did, now let's go back inside.” Alé smiled. Filomena left her mother’s side to take Aether’s outstretched hand and headed back with him towards the Abbey. Terzo stood there, feeling the crisp night air flow over him and the rumbling of the storm in his chest.

I would be absolutely lost without them, he thought to himself. They had been through so much together, his beautiful Prime Mover and precocious daughter. The promise of his unborn son, closely on the horizon. The world and everything in it meant nothing without them. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep inhale of the air, silently thanking Lucifer for all he had been given.

“Are you coming Terzo?” Alé asked him, recapturing his focus. He walked over to her and kissed her lips, gently caressing her cheek in the palm of his hand. Her beauty, mesmerizing him and the feel of her skin on his, even more bewitching.

“I don't think I can make it back inside.” Terzo said with a smile, glancing down. Dew and Mountain’s eyes widened and without a word hurried themselves off to return the ladder to the shed.

“Oh? You need me that much right now?” Alé asked, looking over her belly at the evidence of Terzo’s excitement between them. Terzo kissed her again, holding her tightly in his arms, the swell of her belly the only thing between them.

“I need you always.”

#Prime Mover #ren writes #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #ghost #Ghost sequel snippet!#Copia x OC Alessandra #Terzo #papa iii #papa emeritus iii #prime mover

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cattoy4ever · 2 years

Text

stupid vent about shit that you should ignore ❤️ only posting here cause nobody ever looks at my tumblr so

⋆

so i’m going to try to avoid my mother as much as possible tomorrow and the rest of this week until she forgets i exist

why? what possibly could my mother have done? what sin has she committed to make me hate her this much? well nothing really

she came into my room and sat on my bed and started talking about nothing. i wasn’t listening and was just playing on my phone waiting for her to leave. she eventually said that she wants me to do something. she said that my depression only worsens because i lock myself in my room and she wants me to come up with 1 thing i can do to help myself get better. sounds easy right? sounds simple? here’s the thing, i know i’m not gonna get better

i don’t care about getting “better” anymore. no matter what i do, i will always regress back to this stage. i could feel fine for a day, but i know it’ll always go back down. i don’t care anymore. i don’t want to spend thousands of dollars on meds and therapy and memberships to gyms. it doesn’t get better and i know that deep down. i just want my mom to turn a blind eye and pretend like i don’t exist. pretend that i’m fine and that this is just how i am until i eventually die

i’m getting more agitated and self critical and it’s just getting worse as the days go on. my meds are pointless they don’t work and i have no therapist or anything. i don’t want to talk to my friends because i’m so boring to be around and all i do is make people feel horrible. i know that’s a bold assumption i realize that but i just know deep down that i’m a terrible person. it’s not my looks that the problem it’s the very essence of ME. i only talk about myself, im mean, i talk too much when nobody wants me to and too little when they do, im dry, im embarrassing. everything i do and say i always cringe over. a lot of it is deserved too. im obsessive and still think about a relationship from well over 9 months ago and i can’t fucking get over it. my writing sucks, my art sucks, my interests suck, my personality sucks. i have literally no redeeming qualities, im not even a decent person

i know i know some people are gonna respond to me saying that with “but you are a good person blah blah blah” no i’m fucking not

you don’t know the shit i’ve done that i won’t even tell my closest friend, definitely not my family. shit im bringing to my grave, you have no fucking clue and it’s not even something to brag about it’s just pathetic

anyway, im just so tired of people feeling sorry for me. im so tired of searching for something that doesn’t exist. i genuinely believe a lot of people benefit from the kind of care i’ve received. but some people, just cant get fixed. that’s the truth of it and i’ve accepted it but i know my mom won’t. so im just gonna avoid her has much as possible until she forgets or finally stops trying

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thefaybul · 1 year

Text

2023 February Feature

For the February Feature video, I am well aware that we are all likely very tired of winter and so I thought I would heat things up with some great art, a mystery thriller, and plenty more for this feature video. As always if you like what you see in the video please consider supporting the creators by following the links and maybe buying some of these amazing works featured in the video. And on a final note before we get to those creators, if you love winter, then you may need to see a doctor for a prescription of warm summer days and see you in the fall. First up to warm the day up is…

Shaun G. who has a very unique and abstract design scheme that helps to bring to the canvas something truly unique and special to see. These interesting images need a unique eye to create and bring to life. The artist he own statements:

“About me, the condensed version. Homeschooled art nerd from Wisconsin. I went to music school but hated it. I have a solo album out, and I'm working on three more for release soon. I had a running comic in the highschool in my hometown. I've sold maybe something like 50-60 paintings in my career. I've done several shows. I recently quit working to pursue a full-time art career. I was a balloon animal maker for every major sports team in Minnesota, and a face-painter too. I owned my own bonsai, garden, landscaping, and lawn service for 5 years, and also ran a rickshaw business in a small town. I live in the twin cities now and I'm just learning the ropes of the local art profession here.”

You can find more of his works at the links below.

Next up we have a mystery and thriller from writer Maggie Casteen. This is a sequel for the Kathy Hamilton series that she has created. Maggie’s description states,

“In the next installment of the Kathy Hamilton Mystery series a lot of changes are coming for Kathy. After a successful trip in the UK with the Brooks case, Kathy is back home in Rosemont and looking for a chance to work as an investigator. A local defense attorney, Bailey Clark, decides to give her a chance, but her first case could be her last. The client is accused of killing a young woman outside of Delany’s Bar, but the only thing is he can’t remember what happened. Did he do it or is something more sinister at work underneath? Kathy will follow the clues to discover the truth...if it’s not too late.

Full of mystery, twists, and turns Hush Now, Don’t Cry will take you on a ride that will leave you wondering what happens next.” Here is a sample of that great work.

Prologue

Her eyes glanced across the room as she walked into the Irish bar. She took a seat at the bar and tried to blend in. “He said he’d be here at midnight.” she said to herself. Sandy looked at the clock behind the bar; fifteen more minutes to wait. She laid her purse on the bar in front of her and tried to stay calm. There were plenty of people there having a good time and making memories that they would laugh about later. Sandy just sat there, keeping her eyes forward. The last thing that she wanted was trouble. In just one week, her life had been turned upside–down. I’m just a waitress, she thought, and now after this I’ll be nobody. Sandy looked at the clock again when she saw a man walking towards her. Oh no, she cringed inside, but it was too late; she had been noticed.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Sandy looked up and saw a good-looking guy maybe a little over six-foot leaning against the bar.

“No, that’s ok” she said smiling, “I’m not going to be here much longer.”

“Aww, come on” he said with a sly smile, “one drink and I’ll help you wait it out.”

Wow, this guy is not going to go away, Sandy thought to herself.

“Name’s Chase. What’s yours?” he asked as he held out his hand.

“Umm, it looks like my friend is late,” Sandy said as she began to leave the bar, “Maybe...”

“Look,” he said grabbing her arm, “all I want is a drink and your name,” he said; the smile had vanished.

“Stop it!” she said pulling away, “You’re hurting me.”

She said louder than she intended, and people were starting to look.

“Hey! Leave the lady alone,” shouted the bartender, approaching Chase. It had been a fairly quiet night and he wasn’t about to let anybody ruin it now.

“Fine, Kevin,” Chase said as he threw up his hands in retreat. “Go on; leave then,” he spat at her. Sandy grabbed her purse and softly smiled at the bartender as she made her way out. He’s not going to like this she thought as she walked outside and stood beside the bench. She leaned against the glass window that read Delany’s Pub & Pool Hall as she wiped the tear from her check. Then, she started to check her phone when she felt someone come up behind her and point something into her back. God save me, she thought as she felt her tears run down her cheeks.

“Shhh,” the voice behind her whispered, “hush now, don’t cry.” And then he slowly grabbed her by the waist. “I’m going to take care of you.” Sandy closed her eyes as they started to back into the alley, she knew what was coming...she had been found.

Suspenseful writing and great introduction to the book. If you enjoyed the story please go to the links below and get a copy of this great mystery.

Barnes and Noble:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hush-now-dont-cry-maggie-casteen/1139454226?ean=9781098379445

Amazon:

The next up is Stefano Corrao, he is an artist that does some very detailed and interesting art that ranges from comic book art to fantasy landscape art and even caricatures. The pieces are very detailed and well designed. Comments from the artist.

“Hi, my name is Stefano Corrao and I'm an Italian artist, these are some samples of the graphic novel I made about Bob Dylan's life. The book is published by Edizioni NPE : www.edizioninpe.it

The title in Italian is:

"Bob Dylan - La risposta è nel vento"

("Bob Dylan - The answer is in the wind".)

and can be bought on their website, in all the Italian bookstores (I don't know if it's already available abroad) and can also be bought on amazon.

I am a very versatile artist and I can do many different genres and styles, if you could please mention on your magazine also my website: www.stefanocorrao.com where you can view various works.”

Rounding out this month's issue is a great podcast that talks about those family issues and hopes to educate individuals about issues that may arise within family life. From the creator of the podcasts own words.

“My name is Stefanie and our podcast is Table for Four! It is a podcast featuring our Hispanic family talking about all different issues that affect all families. Talking about the tough topics, funny stories and learning along with our kids from different perspectives. We invite guests on the podcast and we have fun talking with everyone.

Table for Four is made up of myself, my husband Andre, my oldest son Adriean and my youngest Stefan and we are the Molina Family. We are a Hispanic millennial family trying to navigate this thing called LIFE. We talk about a wide variety of topics that affect all families and we get to use this platform to share our experiences”

Listen to the introduction video right here.

Thank you for joining me for these great creators being featured. Don’t forget to check them out and follow for more amazing content in the weeks ahead. Also remember, Be Your Own Fable.

#art #podcast #podcaster #artist #artwork #artoftheday #comic books #comic strip #comics #comicart #Spotify

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chasingpj · 3 years

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐦𝐞?

"My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers?"

pairing: leo valdez x gn reader

words: 2,994

warnings: cursing, mentions of genitalia

category: one-shot, soulmate!au

You don’t know who your soulmate is, but when you find out, you know the first thing you’ll do is punch him in his face. You don’t understand why he does this. Why can’t he be romantic like everyone else? You have a few friends who have the same connection you share with your soulmate, through your skin. Your friends rise from their slumbers with beautiful sketches on their arms; Or throughout the day, lines will appear as they’re being drawn, creating the most beautiful artwork you’ve ever seen. However, of course, you don’t get that; instead, you get this.

You stare at yourself in the mirror with pure disbelief, and you can’t decide whether to cry or scream. You’re used to these kinds of drawings in places like your arms, stomach, and legs, so they were easy to hide. But this has never happened before; it's never been in a place so… so visible.

You fill with rage as you observe the sloppily drawn dick on your forehead and your fist clenches as it lays on top of your bathroom sink. You fucking ass. How the hell am I going to hide this? You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, and you have this vulgar drawing on your forehead. You’re sure if you tell your boss your situation, he’d probably dismiss you because this is obviously not appropriate for the workplace. Still, you can’t even imagine trying to explain this to him. It was way too embarrassing.

"What am I going to do?” You whine as you rub your hands on your face. The drawing won’t be removed from your skin unless your soulmate removes it on his, so you had to think of a solution right away.

“Where could he possibly be where this is acceptable?” You try to refrain from sobbing hopelessly as your frantic mind searches for a solution. You think maybe a hat will work, but you discard the idea knowing your boss will tell you to take it off once you’re indoors. Suddenly, like a sign from the heavens, your solution hits you right in the face when you catch sight of your makeup bag lying on the toilet seat. You reach over, grabbing the pouch and unzipping it. Your quivering hands move too fast, causing the products to fall out and scatter into the sink. Your eyes skim over them in search of your thickest foundation and concealer. When you find them, along with your primer, you sigh, saying a silent prayer before getting to work.

***

Leo gasps sharply as the sight of his face in the mirror shocks him out of his fatigue. He touches his forehead, trying to recall the memory of last night while ignoring the pounding headache surging through his skull. He remembers getting to the club with a group of friends and how they took one shot after another until their vision was blurry. He has a faint memory of dancing with some girl, and the chaos of his 4 am Macdonald’s run with his friends. However, he doesn't recall the moment when this picture was drawn on his face. When did this happen? More importantly, who did this? He pauses, gawking at his reflection. His jaw clenches as the culprit comes to mind. He felt foolish for questioning who did this because he lives with, and he went home with one person last night, and that's Percy.

“Percy!” He yells angrily, and in the next room, he hears Percy’s manic laughter getting louder as he runs down the hall and into the bathroom with him. Percy can’t help but laugh even harder at the sight of a distressed Leo, and he silently congratulates himself for pulling such a successful prank. Leo’s expression hardens, and his gaze snaps over to him, “It's not funny!”

Percy snorts and nudges his shoulder, "Come on, loosen up!" Leo laughs sarcastically,

"Come on, loosen up!" He mocks with clear annoyance, making Percy’s laughter ceases. Leo usually takes things like this so well; he's never been angry at him because of a childish prank. The two of them have been pulling pranks on each other since they moved in together, and they would always laugh it out while deviously planning their revenge. Percy tilts his head, now growing annoyed that Leo’s annoyed.

"Why are you so uptight today?" He almost snaps, not understanding his fury. Leo's eyes narrow at him,

"My soulmate is linked to my skin." He speaks slowly and carefully, accentuating his words to make sure Percy understands how bad this is. Percy's mouth drops open, and he stares at the vulgar art on his forehead.

"Oh… shit," is the only thing he can think of saying. “Fuck, I forgot. I’m sorry,” Percy apologizes even though he knows it doesn’t help anything. He didn’t share the same connection with his soulmate, so he had forgotten entirely about Leo’s bond with his. He’s now left with regret knowing that there's someone out there going along their day trying to hide this lewd image.

Leo groans as he throws his head back. "I-It'll wash off? Right?"

Leo flips up the sink’s nozzle, dipping his head in the cold tap water to wet his face. He scrubs with his fingers, blindly grasping the soap next to him. He runs it over, spreading the suds and lightly scratching his forehead. He rinses everything off and returns to his original position to check his face now. He yells in panic when he sees the drawing didn't budge at all; it didn't even fade. Percy audibly gasps,

"I used permanent marker."

"BRO!"

"I'm sorry!"

Percy shifts on his feet as the memory of last night comes back to him. Leo fell asleep in the cab ride home, and Percy, somehow without much balance, carried him over his shoulder into their apartment complex. He squints his eyes, and with a vague remembrance, he recalls plopping him down on the couch. Leo was unconscious, and Percy’s drunk mind saw this as a perfect opportunity to prank him. He picked the first marker he saw, and in the middle of a giggling fit, he sloppily drew the phallic item and took a picture.

Leo frantically puts his head back in the sink to scrub again, and Percy stands by the door, watching panic wash over him. Leo continues scrubbing his skin, and though his skin becomes red under the friction of his nails, he persists. Percy shakes his head, walking over to him quickly, and he pats his shoulder.

"Come on, man. It's not working; you’re gonna hurt yourself." If Percy let him, Leo would scrub his skin raw. He disregards his advice and continues to scrub, bringing the soap over the drawing once again before scratching harshly. Percy, not wanting his friend to hurt himself, turns off the tap, and Leo groans, standing straight. He stares at himself in the mirror, his face dripping wet, and his skin is red with irritation. I'm so sorry.

***

Your day hasn't gotten any better since this morning. First, you wake with a dick on your forehead; second, you miss your bus because you took so much time layering makeup on your face. Then, you get to work about 15 minutes late because your commute, which usually took about 5 minutes, was delayed due to traffic. You assumed that your day couldn’t get any worse, but you discovered you spoke too soon when the system your job uses to put in orders crashed, making your job even harder than it had to be. Also, you spilled hot coffee on yourself during the morning rush, and that almost sent you straight into tears, but somehow, you prevailed.

By the afternoon, you wanted to rip your hair out when you realized you forgot your wallet, leaving you unfed and cranky. Your boss was no help to your mood either. He picked at everything you did today and held a grudge about you being late this morning. You've never had such a shitty day at work, and there is a sense of relief when you witnessed the clock turn to 4:30 pm. You immediately stood up from your chair, collecting your things before walking straight to the computer to clock out.

The last challenge you're facing is to get home in the slippery aftermath of the pouring rain earlier today. It was colder than usual; the sun’s hidden behind stormy gray clouds, and the smell of wet soil is in the air. You shiver, your arms wrapped around your frame in a poor attempt to keep you warm. You don't have an umbrella, and you hope it doesn’t start raining again. You were sure that if your makeup washes away in the rain for everyone to see the mystery under it, you will lose your mind.

You stand in the corner of the waiting shed, resting your head on the side. You take a deep breath, noticing your hands are anxiously chipping away the week-old nail polish. From the corner of your eye, you see someone join you under the shed, and out of usual curiosity, you look over. A tall, slender guy stands in the opposite corner; he wears distressed blue jeans, a black hoodie with a print you can’t see from your view, and a black winter hat. In his hands, he fiddles with a piece of scrap metal. His skin was tan, and his brown curly hair peeks from under his hat. Oblivious to your staring, he looks away from his fiddling and happens to glance over at you. There's a moment of awkward eye contact before you snap your vision away and out to the street.

You cringe at yourself for staring too long, shifting on your feet. You casually lean over the side of the curve, and you swear the light of the heavens was shining on your bus as it drove toward you. You couldn’t help but smile, a sense of relief washing over you. It’s here; you were one step closer to getting home and relaxing.

The excitement was taken away as quickly as it arrived, your bus passing your stop making a mini tsunami in the process. A wave of water splashes directly on you, and it takes you a moment to process what just happened. You stand there, cold and wet staring blankly at the curve. You felt overwhelmed, not being able to hold back the cries that you’ve been suppressing all day.

"are you-" a sob releases from your lips, stunning the unknown guy next to you. You miserably walk over to the bench, plopping down and resting your elbows on your thighs to lay your head in your hands. You sob freely, not caring about the boy's presence, and he stands in his spot, not sure what to do. He had an innate urge to make you feel better, and he doesn't know why but it pains him to see you like this. He clears his throat and decides to settle in the seat next to you. "Bad day?"

You sniffle, trying to find your breath, "The worst."

You don't look up, your hands doing their part to cover your face and your forehead. "I don't understand why everything is going so wrong.” You didn’t even care that you were pitying yourself, but you felt like you had the right considering how shit your day has been.

"I woke up with an awful drawing from my soulmate. I was late for my bus, which made me late to work; I haven't had lunch either. I'm hungry, cold, and now, soaking wet in street water." You sniffle once more. "My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers? I'd even take a tacky picture of two stick figures falling in love... shit; I’d be satisfied with a grocery list. But of course, with my luck, that doesn't happen. I get stupid drawings of... genitalia."

Leo’s body tenses next to you, and his teeth bite the inside of his lip. Drawings of genitalia? Sounds like him. Now he needed to see this drawing you were talking about, and he feels himself getting anxious at the possibility that you could be his soulmate. You continue to cry, refusing to move from your position.

"Well... it can't be that bad?"

"Oh, it's bad,” you managed to respond in your ragged breathing. Leo hesitantly reaches over, affectionately rubbing his hand across your upper back. Your breath hitches softly at the back of your throat, and there is a surge of warmth that radiates from his hand. You feel your tense shoulders begin to relax, and you furrow your eyebrows as your breath miraculously finds its regular pace. You even have this strange desire to cuddle into his frame to acquire more of his touch.

"Come on, show me. It's probably not as bad as you think." He speaks from his experience this morning. If you aren't his soulmate, he's sure that whatever you have isn't as traumatic as what he and his soulmate have.

"No! You'll laugh," you whine, your head laying firmly on your hands.

"I won't! I promise." You can tell from his voice that he was genuine, and for some reason, you can trust him. You slowly remove your hands from your face, but your head is still in an embarrassed bow. His heart pounds in his chest at the anticipation and leans forward to get a look at your face. You close your eyes, not wanting to see his initial reaction.

There it was. Right under your concealer, there is the familiar drawing faintly present. Leo's mouth drops, and his eyes widen; how is he going to tell you that he has the same picture on his forehead? You sigh shakily,

"It's bad, isn't it?" Your face burns in pure humiliation, and you now regret showing him. Leo is silent for a bit, trying to find words to explain himself.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes flutter open to look at his guilty expression.

"Why are you sorry?" He doesn't even attempt to explain himself in words. He simply slides off his winter hat, showing you the original drawing on his skin. You inhale sharply, your mind trying to process what is happening in front of you.

He's your soulmate, the person that you ideally would spend your life with. You didn't think you'd find him anytime soon or even at all. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, and your cheeks get warm. You both gaze into each other’s eyes, and there was an immediate connection. You take in the tousled curls on his head, a bit frizzy from his hat and his big brown eyes. Your heart pumps hard in your chest, just as fast as the boy’s heart in front of you.

A few people told you that you’d feel like the world will slow down when you meet your soulmate. You’ll feel complete, and all at once, you’ll fall in love. You thought it was a load of over-romanticized bull, but you found that it was true even with your strange circumstance.

You finally found him…

But he's done this.

Your anger somehow counteracts this "in love" feeling, and you momentarily hate him for starting your day off on a sour note.

"You!" Your arms lift to strike him in the chest, but before you could attack, he grasps your tight fists.

"I'm sorry! I can explain!" He says quickly. Your arms loosen up, and you narrow your eyes at him,

"Explain yourself then." Sheepishly Leo cowers and his hands remain around your fist, just in case.

"Well," he sighs, "I partied a little too hard last night, and um, my roommate, Percy, thought it would be funny to draw this on my forehead."

"Your roommate is an ass."

"Well, yeah. Sometimes. But he was just as drunk as I was, and he didn't realize that the marker was permanent. When I saw it, I immediately thought of you, and how you’d have to walk around with this." He chews on the inside of his cheek, "I tried getting it off, but it won’t go away." You sigh, willing to forgive him since it wasn't his fault.

"So, we're gonna have this for a while?"

"Probably a couple of days or so." You groan and don’t say anything in return. You look down at your lap, still hiding your face from anyone around. "Oh, here, take my sweatshirt. The hoodie can keep it hidden.” He puts his hat back on and pulls his sweatshirt over his body, passing it to you. You smile softly as you take it from him. You pull it over your still soaked and cold frame, slipping your arms in and bringing the hood up. You mutter a small thank you, shoving your hands in the front pocket. He replies with a hum, allowing the sounds of the passing cars to fill your comfortable silence.

"Again, I'm sorry,” he apologizes sincerely, and you turn your head. You smile reassuringly,

"It's okay. I'll forgive you this time,” you say teasingly, and he chuckles. "I'm y/n, by the way."

"Leo." You reach over, taking his hand, and you guys share a handshake.

"Nice to meet you, soulmate.”

masterlists

#leo valdez x you #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez one shot #heroes of olympus fanfic #heroes of olympus #my writing

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midnightstar-90 · 3 years

Text

Live Laugh Love~ Rockets, Communists, and the Dewey Decimal System

Masterlist | Taglist | Request

Georgie Cooper x Reader

Summary: To appease his worried mother, Sheldon employs the techniques of a self-help book to try and make a friend.

Warnings: None

AN: I plan to write a new chapter once a week. It may change at the end of the school year. On the other hand, I tried to add more to the story. I hope you guys like it.

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Y/N's Pov

I am walking to lunch, and when I round the corner, I see Mary and George looking through the lunchroom window and talking to each other. I make a confused face while listening in on their conversation. "Look at him. It breaks my heart," Mary says sadly. "Poor little guy. Sitting all alone", George says sadly while responding to Mary's comment. "I don't know why his brother or even Y/N can't sit with him. Actually, Where is Y/N. I don't see her anywhere."

"I'm right here," I say, spooking Mary and George before continuing with, "Also, I tried to sit with Sheldon on his first day, and he said it would be best for me to sit with people who have the same intellect as me. I found that rude because he meant Georgie, and I am so much smarter than Georgie. Anyways, Georgie doesn't sit with him because he says In school, they don't know each other". I look between Georgie and Sheldon, then look at my godparents. "Yeah, come on Mary, when you were in high school would you have lunch with a nine-year-old," George asked Mary. "Yes, I would have," Mary responded. "Well, there is something wrong with you." I took George's words as a sign to leave.

"Well, I'm... gonna... go," I told the married couple before heading into the lunchroom to sit with Georgie and our friends. I sat down to Georgie, trying to fit as many grapes as he can into his mouth. "Fourteen," he yelled out while all of Georgie's friends cheered him on. Georgie spits them all out before turning to me. "What did you think," Georgie asked me, trying to get my opinion on his 'cool' trick. "Georgie, if I wanted to see you stuff your mouth, I would just wait till dinner. In other words, not that interesting," I told my best friend. Georgie replied with a sad "oh" before going back to talking with his friends. I went back to finishing my newest sketch of a finch.

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Georgie and I walked into the house. "Georgie, would you do me a tiny little favor," Mary asked Georgie while he was getting a drink out of the fridge. I sat with the girl I thought of as a little sister before saying hi. Georgie responded back with a "like what" before Mary asked Georgie to sit with Sheldon. I already told Mary why I don't sit with Sheldon. Missy with her smart remarks told Georgie, "Don't do it. I ate with him in second grade, it really hurt my social life." Georgie walked off while replying to Mary with a "No thanks". I kicked Missy under the table, then gave her a 'seriously' look. I shook my head and followed Georgie to 'help' him with his homework, which was more like do his work.

I don't follow Georgie because I'm his lost puppy. I follow Georgie to help him. Without me, Georgie would grow up to be a homeless man with great hair. I am basically Georgie's Guardian angel.

"Georgie, why do I always end up doing your homework? At this point, I don't even think you know how to read. Those magazines are just for show, and you know it. You probably only look at the pictures," I said to Georgie while sitting on his bed doing our geometry homework. "Aw, come on Y/N, don't you know that you're the smartest out of both of us. Without you, I would probably still be in the 5th grade. You were right about something though, those books are for looking, but I can read you." I roll my eyes at Georgie's comment before looking down and smiling.

I admit I might have a bit of a crush on Georgie but we're best friends, and how could I ever compare those girls in his magazine. If I tell Georgie that I like him, that could ruin our friendship, and that would be weird because we live together. So, I just stick to being his best friend. That way our friendship isn't ruined and I can still be as close to him as I can.

"Well I finished your homework and it's 10 o'clock, so I guess this is it. Have a good night," I said before heading out.

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Georgie's POV

Y/N walked out of my room. I felt sad because she was gone. We talk all day, she does my homework, and we have practiced together, but I still miss her. "Maybe I like her," I mumble to myself while laying down staring at the ceiling. "Naw, that can't be," I said. I shut off my light and fell asleep.

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Y/N's POV

I was leaving my art class when I see Sheldon talking to one of the cheerleaders. It's weird to be seeing Sheldon interacting with people without them running off and crying. It interested me so much I decided to listen in.

"Go wolves," Sheldon said in a monotone voice. Jessica closed her locker confused. Sheldon responded back to Jessica with, "You're a cheerleader, and by saying "Go Wolves" I'm initiating a conversation about something that interests you." "Oh, are you one of those special ed kids," Jessica asked still trying to understand what was happening. The older sister part of me kinda felt angry that she said that, but on the other hand she was talking to Sheldon. "My mom says I'm special. Would you like to be friends" Sheldon asks. She tells him, no, but Sheldon keeps going, "Are you sure? What if I told you I admired your boldly-applied makeup?" Jessica walks off offended.

I walk up to Sheldon frantically and say, "Sheldon, you can't say mean things like that. I'm at the top of the pyramid today, and Jessica is right underneath me." "Oh, I didn't know what I said was offensive. I thought that I was complimenting her," Sheldon says. "Well, just try not to insult people. If you don't know what to say, don't say anything to them." Sheldon replies with an "alright" before walking away from me. I watch Sheldon go before heading to my next class.

I got to my next class and I sat down beside Georgie. "I just ran into Sheldon trying to make friends," I told Georgie while I get the stuff I need for class out of my backpack. "I feel bad for whoever had to put up with Sheldon. That boy is not one for making friends," Georgie responds to my comment. "Well, I think it's cute, but I feel bad because he didn't make one friend." "You sound like my mom," Georgie says. I glare at Georgie. The teacher walks in and starts the class.

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I hear Mary yelling about how Sheldon made a friend. I felt happy for him. I feel like Sheldon would really benefit from having a friend. I mean, I have Georgie, and we're inseparable.

I also heard Sheldon ask if he can start his rocketry hobby again with his new friend and I dipped. The last time he launched a rocket he killed a family of squirrels and my eyebrows. I wanted to bond with Sheldon so I helped him with his rocket.

I went downstairs to watch tv with Missy. She was watching DuckTales. "I'm surprised you're not with Georgie," Missy comments as I sit down with her. I roll my eyes and say, "Georgie isn't my whole life. I talked to Sheldon earlier, and now I just want to hang out with you. Sheldon has a new friend now, I have Georgie, but I feel like you don't have anyone to hang out with. So, what do you say tomorrow I take you to get your nails done." Missy's eyes go wide and she excitedly shouts, "Yes, I'm gonna go tell mom!"

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After school, Missy and I went to get our nails done.

(Missy's Nails)

(Y/N's Nails)

When Missy and I got home Mary told us that Sheldon's friend was coming over. Missy and I sat down to talk and watch tv. There was a knock at the door, and that set Mary off. "He's here," she yelled. "Everybody, stay calm! Just a normal day, just a normal dinner," she continued. Missy asks if she and I can eat in front of the TV, which obviously didn't end well.

We're all sitting at the dinner table, except for Mary, when George starts asking Tam, questions. George makes it weird when he asked Tam if his mom was named Kim-lee. Me and Georgie look at each other with a cringed look.

Georgie releases us from the weird vibes when he asks Tam, "So, Vietnam, like in Rambo." Tam responds with a "yes" and then Georgie continues with, "That's a cool movie." Georgie asks Tam if he's in Rambo and I look at him and elbow him in the ribs. Georgie says, "oww, what was that for" before Tam tells him "no". Sheldon brings the conversation back to George's comment, but it is cut off by Mary serving dinner.

We learned a lot about Tam's family and life. It was very interesting. Georgie said a couple more stupid things, which earned him a few more elbows to the ribs.

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I was in my room, getting ready for bed. Georgie walks in and sits on my bed.

(Y/N's Room)

(Y/N's PJ's)

"How was the day with my sister," Georgie asks me. I sign for Georgie to get off the bed and say, "We had fun. After our nails, we went to Dairy Queen and got a blizzard. I think Missy and I really needed today, you know." Georgie helps me make my bed and continues the conversation, "I missed you today." "Is Georgie Cooper jealous? Georgie Cooper didn't have someone to do his homework and now he's sad," I said mocking Georgie. Georgie grows a sad look on his face and says, "No, I missed my best friend. Not the girl that does my homework, or the girl that helps me clean my room. I miss the girl I talk to for hours. The girl that makes me feel special compared to the rest of my family. I miss that girl and that girl is you."

"Wow, that was deep for a kid that went a couple of hours without seeing me, but I know how you feel. Missy and Sheldon don't know how to do the things we do. I almost made Missy cry by insulting her earlier. I think I hang around boys too much," I say getting ready to lay down. Georgie climbs into the bed with me and we silently talk for the rest of the night.

#montana jordan #georgie cooper #georgie cooper x reader #george cooper #mary cooper #missy cooper #sheldon cooper #meemaw #young sheldon #big bang theory #fanfic #x reader #connie tucker #wattpad

314 notes · View notes

megthemewlingquim · 3 years

Text

someone new.

summary: there's an art to life's distractions.

pairing: eventual hades! loki x persephone! reader

warnings: implied smut, alcohol consumption

a/n: here it is, the first part of foreigner's god. as said in this fic's masterlist, these will not be chapters, but rather short stories and one shots that can be read separately or as one whole piece. it's up to you.

i plan to base each part off of one or two hozier songs. this is inspired by "someone new".

is there a right way to fall in love?

that’s what loki asks himself every day — well, every night — when he spends his free time at bars and gatherings. populated widely with fellow gods, goddesses, and spirits of many colors and passions; these bars are perfect places to find someone new.

being the god of death, however, puts loki at a bit of a disadvantage. yes, the stereotypes are, unfortunately, true. loki is dark, a little antisocial, and very quiet. beautiful in appearance — death is seductive, at least to the willing.

‘the willing’ being many a spirit, many a dryad or goddess or creature who wants bragging rights, or a little nightly thrill. ‘that’s right,’ they say, ‘i had a little dance with death last night.’

loki doesn’t mind the mornings when his temporary partners talk about the nights, but he always cringes when they mention that accursed french phrase — la petite mort. it’s a joke to them. a mockery.

yet, they stay, and sometimes, they come back for another little death.

the spirits and goddesses never make a big impact on him. he is with one for a night, then another for a night, and so on. he falls in love every day with someone new and it’s a bore. a bore and a drag.

dark caresses don’t do much to numb the pain: the pain of loneliness and solitude. the ache in his heart is constant, tearing at his mind whenever it can. alcohol can't do much either — all gods have a very high tolerance. mead was made for them.

so loki is left with no escape besides those that come from the willing. little deaths. they make him feel loved.

no...

no one loves death. some crave him. but they don't love him.

that’s the common theme running through loki’s head every time he takes someone home with him, or goes upstairs with them to the top floors of the inns he’s at, where the bedrooms are. it’s a distraction.

however, the cycle ends when, while pointlessly wandering around his usual bar, he sees someone new one night. you.

you radiate this... this warmth that he’s never felt before. everyone around you seems to be affected by it too - they don’t treat you as the life of the party, but they do gravitate towards you like birds to a nest.

and you’re quite shy, but infectiously happy and cheerful. you’re so beautiful, with your bright eyes that he knows are wide and filled with wonder, and your lovely skin that he knows is so soft. and your smile that he knows is so comforting to all who see it.

to everyone else, you feel like they’ve just wandered into a happy memory, or a sun-lit room that’s pleasantly warm and golden. you feel familiar. ordinary, but lovely all the same.

to loki, you feel... feel like something he’s only experienced in dreams. so, really, he’s never felt it before in his immortal life: something warm and alive and... and anticipatory. like there’s new things about to come up to the surface — flowers, new animals, maybe. you give off a sense of... he can’t describe it well. a slow and joyful awakening something.

and you also feel completely and utterly powerful. unstoppable. he’s terrified of you, and yet he’s drawn to you. you’re so fascinating, strange. not as if you could end the world, no, that’s his own job. but it’s as if you can bring the whole world to life, raise it back up again after the chaos fades.

you feel like spring. like rebirth. like new life.

and that’s when it hits him.

persephone. he’s heard the name passed around before, but before now, he has never seen the face behind the name. something about this sparks some fear in him: how would persephone, goddess of spring, daughter of demeter, react to seeing anyone even remotely like himself?

for a moment, he’s grateful that you’re not looking at him; you’re actually looking at the table, at the drink you’re sipping. there’s a look on your face that isn’t bored, nor afraid. maybe... observant.

people are around you still. not crowding, but not interacting with you either. it’s like you have a bubble around you, keeping everyone from getting too close. maybe it’s your doing but maybe it’s theirs. honestly, you’d think that dryads and gods and goddesses and spirits of all forms and colors and subjects would be more accepting.

he pities you. you seem lonely.

loki takes a few steps forward, betraying his own fear. like the red sea, the crowd parts. some are bold and unafraid, and they give loki varying looks: disgusted, seductive, snarky. you don’t notice him until he sits down in front of you, at the other end of the table.

“hi,” he says calmly. he manages a small smile. “you’re new here, aren’t you?”

your eyes lift to lock with his own. immediately, you recoil just the slightest bit. he knows what you’re thinking: wait, that’s hades! god of death... wh-why is he talking to me?

“it’s alright,” he soothes. “don’t worry. you’ve probably heard of all the stories: gods kidnapping and doing terrible things to goddesses and spirits and dryads. i’m not here to do any of that. i promise.”

with a single, somewhat confused blink, you nod. “m-my mother has told me a lot about that stuff,” you say slowly, as if saying anything too revealing will somehow alert demeter and get you in trouble. “she’s... she’s terrified...”

“what is she terrified of? that those terrible things might happen to you?”

“yes,” you say. “she’s told me that she’s had nightmares in the past. specifically about you. how you’ll kidnap me and take me to hell to live with you.”

he laughs at that - a rich, amused laugh that takes the shivers out of you. “that’s bullshit. overprotective mothers, yeah?”

you shrug. “she loves me.”

“and are you afraid of me, princess?” the last word is whispered. his voice extremely soft - it’s a curious question.

he notices how you lick your lips. “no,” you say. he notices how your eyes flick all over him. “no, i’m not.” and you seem truthful.

“smart girl,” he says with a grin. “i hate liars. there’s not a god on in the world that’s ever been truthful. well, besides jesus. yahweh. whatever you wanna call him.” loki leans back, crossing his hands behind his head and bringing his feet up to the table. “your father, though... he’s the worst of ‘em. having children with other women, including your mother, while hera has to sit by and watch, and then lying about it.”

“we’re gods,” you say. “i'm not trying to justify things but... we’re far from perfect.”

“damn right we are. we’re fucked up. good. we can agree on something. most days, people think us gods are... perfect things. role models. and, maybe some are. but not us. not the gods of olympus.”

he pauses, takes a swig from a beer bottle that was not in his hand a few seconds ago. “i was wondering if you wanted to do what humans do.” loki winces at the awkwardness. “when they're... y'know. interested in someone.”

“you're interested... in me?” you ask, incredulously.

“yeah, i am.” one sip of beer has loosened his tongue. or maybe that's just his confidence soaring now. “maybe this hasn't been the best introduction to things but i would love to take you out sometime. show you things.”

“my —” you swallow. “i'd get in trouble.” you shrink away just a bit.

his smile fades and it's replaced with a sadder, more sincere look. “the best things in life have risk to them. it's time i show you that.”

and really, he does feel sorry for you. it's your first time at a bar, you're lonely. no friends as far as he can tell. an overprotective goddess mother.

“think of it this way. i think you're very pretty and i like your honesty. i would like to help you see the world, and to have a little fun, since your mother has obviously never let you do anything in your very, very long life.”

“i'm twenty—one.”

“and now i'm wondering if demeter actually has you tell people that, as if you're a teenage mortal.” loki shakes his head, disappointed. “that's pathetic. you're a bajillion years old. you're a goddess! you should be able to do whatever the fuck you want, right?”

when there's no answer from you, he sighs. leans forward to sit normally, putting both of his elbows on the table and pointing his hands at you. “alright. i'll roll with it for now. you're twenty—one. i guess. you can drink. you can go out alone to bars and other places. you can meet new people. you're an adult. think about that.

“so, again. i think you're very pretty and i wanna show you around. get to know you. would you like to do that with me?” he raises his eyebrows a little, waiting for a response.

it's an eternity before you can win a battle in your mind. slowly, you nod, giving him a smile. “yeah,” you whisper. “yeah, i would. thank you.”

“don't thank me just yet, sweetheart. i haven't shown you anything yet.” he gets up, pushes his chair in.

before he leaves, he winks at you. “call me loki. it's... not as dreadful... as hades. and... what do i call you?”

you say your name, your voice quiet.

“much better than persephone, i think. it suits you. we'll keep in touch, ok?”

“okay,” you say. butterflies are flying rapidly in your stomach.

loki leaves you there. he'd much rather take you back to your home himself, but that would be too risky for the time being. for now, he walks out of that bar feeling like the king of the world.

189 notes · View notes

untaemedqueen · 3 years

Text

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 17.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Angst, Excessive Cursing, Fluff, Lactation Kink, Degradation (Cock Slut, Slut, Whore), Daddy Kink, Reverse Cowgirl, Possessive!Yoongi, Doggy Style, Praise, Controlled Orgasms, Begging, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Cream Pie, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Pun

A/N: A huge gigantic and hearty thank you to my girls as always @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna. I really wouldn’t get chapters done without them.

Days have bled into weeks. The large guest house has been lived in for far too long, or so you think.

It might just be the August heat getting to you, but you've started to hate the guest house.

"Where's my little dove?" Yoongi asks, taking his suit jacket off.

You know for a fact that the CEO is adoring this. He loves being able to be holed up in here with you and his child. He loves that no one bothers with you both, you're both able to carry on like normal people. But your hormones are making you go stir crazy.

When Yoongi smiles at you with his perfect teeth, you can feel your annoyance dissipating in the slightest.

He then frowns when you give him a half assed smile. "What's wrong? Who am I firing?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you.

Your five month belly presses into his stomach, and his eyes flutter shut gratefully.

"I'm sick of being in this fucking house." you grumble into his neck as he holds you tightly.

He sighs gently, he's been waiting for you to speak your mind. He's seen how annoyed you've been lately. He notices everything about you.

"I know, little dove. I'm sorry." he apologizes, rubbing your belly and planting a gentle kiss to your temple.

"I want to go and set up the nursery! I want to paint! I want to be able to go somewhere else besides this stupid gated community!" you complain, running your hand under your growing bump and situating it there.

Your boyfriend sighs, nodding. "I know you do, baby. I'm working hard to make that happen. I'm sorry it's not going fast enough for you and Sesame." he says, tilting your chin to look up at him.

"What if I eat your pussy? Will that make you feel better?" he suggests softly.

"No! It won't make me feel better! Because I'll be laying on the same bed I've been laying on for months, that isn't my own bed." you insist with a whine.

"Mommy's angry," he quips to your stomach, walking around the bar and pouring himself a glass of whisky.

You groan loudly, squeezing your fists out of irritation.

"If I have to look at another cat of nine tails or a flogger situated artistically on the wall, I'm going to blow up this house!" you threaten, pressing your hand to your side as your baby kicks inside of you.

The CEO chuckles above the lip of his glass, eyes softening at how you lean against the marble bar.

"You okay, little dove?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, the baby keeps kicking because they hate it in here as much as I do!" you whine.

Yoongi laughs gently, bringing the whisky glass to his lips. "I know. I'm working hard to make sure Myeyoung has enough in her account to cushion her fall when I file for the divorce." he promises.

You roll your eyes, huffing out loudly as you lean against the bar.

"You look pretty, practically glowing with my heir inside you," he offers.

You pout up at your boyfriend, the overwhelming urge to cry coursing through your body.

"It's just your hormones, baby. I know." he whispers, rounding the bar and pulling you into his arms.

"I just want to lay in my own bed, go in my own art studio, go in the nursery!" you sob, burying your face into his white dress shirt.

He coos gently, running his hand over your upper back comfortably. "I know, little dove, I kn-"

There's a knock at the guest house door, that draws both of your attention.

"Sir?!" the voice belongs to Maya and she sounds absolutely nervous.

"What's wrong?" he calls back, watching as she opens the door.

"Your grandmother is here." she announces, her hands fidgeting nervously with her tight bun.

"Oh fuck!" he curses loudly, grabbing the glass of whisky and downing it all in one gulp.

His hands cup your face, pulling you to look up at him. "I know your hormones are raging right now, I know you're uncomfortable here in the guest house. But, I need you to meet my grandmother. Okay?" he asks nervously, wiping his thumbs over your tear stained cheeks.

"But… I… Fine," you breathe out.

"Thank you, little dove. Thank you! Just be yourself. You're going to do fine!" he insists, grabbing his suit jacket and shrugging it on quickly.

You can tell how frightened he is and you need to pull it together. From what you heard about his grandmother from him, she's always given second hand doting. Meaning that she has always told him how loved he is without showing him any actual caring or affection. It just seems like he's never been loved in his life besides Maya.

From what you know Min Seyoung is a sharp, smart woman with a tongue as quick as a whip.

Turning to the mirror, you smooth out your summer dress, tilting your head at the reasonably large bump that protrudes.

"This is going to be… eventful." he hisses, pulling your hand.

At least you won't have to be in the guest house for now.

The mansion is a sight for sore eyes. Of course, you've seen it on your daily walks. You've entered it when Jin and Sera weren't home but you haven't lived in it in what feels like forever.

You're grateful when Jisoo hands you a strawberry sparkling water, knocking the summer heat straight out of your bones.

"Where is she?" Yoongi inquires, tucking his dress shirt into his pants.

"In your office." Mays says, handing him a glass of whisky quickly.

"Thank you. Come on, little dove. My grandmother doesn't like to be kept waiting." he rushes you.

You've honestly forgotten what nervousness feels like these past few months. You haven't had to worry about a damn thing, but now with Yoongi tapping his fingers to his thighs rhythmically, you remember it all too well.

Each step up the marble stairs sends your body flitting and coursing with nerves. The way he runs his fingers through his hair, the way he sips his whisky is something far beyond what you've ever seen. His back muscles are tense through his suit jacket, the base of his hairline already sweating and you know it's not from the heat outside.

Standing in front of the office door, you swallow thickly as Yoongi takes a deep breath. His hand lingers on the doorknob for a second before he's shoving it open.

"Grandmother," he announces curtly.

The woman is older, her skin practically wrinkle free. There are a few frown lines by her mouth but other than that her skin is smooth. When she looks at her grandson, her eyes soften just the slightest degree but nothing else changes. She doesn't smile. She doesn't even acknowledge your presence.

"I haven't seen you in five months," she huffs.

Her voice is that of irritation and disbelief.

"I've been busy. This is Y/N." Yoongi says, pressing his hand to your lower back comfortingly.

Her eyes zone in on you in a second, fingernails tapping incessantly to the desk beneath them. As she looks you over you can feel yourself becoming smaller, wanting to hide anywhere.

"Yes. Your grandfather told me all about Y/N. Sit." she instructs.

Yoongi nods a fraction, pulling your chair out for you. Your knees shake as you sit, a gentle hand placing on your stomach feeling your child kick inside of you.

"She's pretty," his grandmother surmises.

"Yes, she is." the CEO agrees with a gentle smirk.

You look down at your lap, feeling awkward and confused.

"Maya tells me that you live here still, but both of your beds haven't been slept in for a long time. Where have you gone?" she inquires.

Well she's not shy in the least.

"To the guest house, we've been staying there." Yoongi answers honestly, sipping his whisky.

"Why? Are you not pleased with Sera? You've gotten some random poor girl pregnant and just forgotten all about her?" she goads.

You cringe at the sharpness of her voice, holding your stomach tighter. When Yoongi notices, he doesn't take kindly to how uncomfortable you are.

"She's not some poor girl, she's my girlfriend. And I haven't been pleased with Sera since the day I married that leech."

His grandmother scoffs loudly. "Your girlfriend? Are you twelve? You need a girlfriend? What's suddenly changed in your dynamic?"

"I fell in love." Yoongi replies quickly.

You take sharp breath through your nose, you've never spoken those words to each other yet.

"Oh please," his grandmother mumbles, rolling her eyes.

"Grandmother, I'm sorry but I don't know what you're doing here." your boyfriend says, folding his arms.

"When you never even notified us that an article came out about you, that was evidence enough that your girlfriend has warped your mind. What is it exactly that you think you're going to do? Divorce Sera? Live happily ever after with Y/N in this mansion?"

"Yes in fact! I do think that! I deserve it!" Yoongi cries out, gripping tighter onto his glass.

You do not want to be here. You can barely contain the squeak that tries to leave your lips as his grandmother slams her hand down on the desk.

"We have given you what you deserved! And you're throwing it away!" she retorts, narrowing her eyes at you. "Anything to say?!"

"Don't speak to her like that! She isn't someone that you can think so lowly of! She's pregnant with my baby! My heir! She's the love of my life!" Yoongi yells, slamming his glass down onto the desk.

When you look over at him, you can see the neck veins jutting out of his skin. His face is pink with anger and you cower at how furious he is.

"If you think for one second we're going to accept that baby, you've lost your min-"

"You have no choice! Sera is sterile! She isn't able to have kids! And I don't want anything to do with that leech cunt! I have everything I want!"

That news drops like a bomb. You had no idea. Your eyes flutter shut, hearing your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

"If that is true, you should leave the Min legacy to your other family. Not some poor-"

"I SAID STOP CALLING HER THAT!" Yoongi bellows, kicking his chair out from beneath him as he stands.

His grandmother leans back in her chair, her lips pursing while her eyes narrow.

"I have already drawn up divorce papers! I will file them! I will kick Sera out on her money grubbing ass! Y/N, is not leaving my side for a fucking second! She's my family! Unlike everyone else that's been around me since my childhood! She's not going anywhere!" he says, downing the rest of his whisky and slamming the glass back down onto the desk.

"Then you will lose your position as CEO," his grandmother says simply.

You open your mouth to refuse but Yoongi speaks first.

"You can try it. You can take it to the shareholders and request it but they know since I've been put in charge that our sales have gone up forty five percent. They know that I was able to pay them hundreds of thousands of dollars more for their holiday bonuses than any of the CEOs before me. They know that I get shit done. You wanted an heir and you fucking got one. Now you're not happy?! You're a hypocrite!" he scoffs, running his fingers through his hair.

"Little dove, go wait for me downstairs," he whispers, cupping your cheek.

"Stay where you are," his grandmother instructs and you're caught between the both of them.

Yoongi rounds your chair, pressing his hand to your growing belly. "There is no one in the world that is going to take my fucking family away from me. My baby, my heir -- means the world to me. This woman, this beautiful woman sitting in this chair -- has brought me more peace than should be allowed in one man's life. There is nothing you can do to me that will make me change my fucking mind." he seethes through his teeth.

His grandmother hums inquisitively, tapping her fingernails to the desk once more. "So what do you plan to do then?"

He starts to cool down, his boiling blood beginning to soothe. "I'm going to divorce Sera."

"When?" his grandmother prompts, putting her manicured hand beneath her chin.

"When I feel the time is right," he says confidently.

"Before the baby is born?" she inquires, raising an eyebrow and looking at your stomach.

"Yes." he breathes out.

"What's the gender?" his grandmother inquires.

"We don't know yet, we're finding out tomorrow."

"You better hope it's a boy." she murmurs, already bored of this tit for tat.

"I'll be happy with whatever Y/N gives me." he replies truthfully.

"We did not raise you this way, Yoongi. We raised you-"

"You didn't raise me. Maya did. My father burnt holes into my chest to try to teach me how to be a person and he learned that from your husband," Yoongi quips.

You close your eyes, feeling a headache already coming on.

"Oh my God," you whisper under your breath.

"And you, Y/N, what is your take on all of this?" his grandmother asks.

You're completely at odds, you've never dealt with anything like this in your life.

"Leave her out of thi-"

"I was not talking to you, Yoongi!"

He sighs softly, pressing his thumb and pinky finger to either temple.

So for once you just let everything go. "Mrs. Min, I'm very sorry if I've brought chaos into this house because of me being pregnant. But, I love your grandson very much. I know I'm not the perfect choice for a CEO but I've been working very hard to learn about what a woman has to do to take care of things on her end. I'm very happy to be with Yoongi and so happy we get to have a family together. I might not be like Sera, I might not come from money but I've never wanted Yoongi's money at all. I just want my baby to be loved and taken care of."

Yoongi runs his hands over his face, this is why he adores you. You're such a good girl.

"Oh dear lord, you're too sweet to even be angry at," his grandmother scoffs.

You can practically see the cogs turning in her head. Your boyfriend runs his thumb comfortingly over your bump but you're still nervous. The power this woman exudes could bring civilizations down.

"Well, what are your skills? You have to bring something to this family." she determines.

Your mouth opens to reply, is she accepting you?

"She's a wonderful painter!" Yoongi says quickly.

Min Seyoung tilts her head, running her hand over her long ponytail. "Show me." she orders.

He stands up straight within a second, fixing his suit jacket. "By all means," he replies, opening the office door for her.

You begin to frown, you don't show your paintings to anyone. It's just a hobby!

"I mean, they're okay they're not-"

"Van Gogh would adore them!" Yoongi compliments, watching his grandmother walk out first.

You sigh gently, earning eyes from your boyfriend. "It's okay, baby!" he mouths, holding his hand out to you.

You take his hand reluctantly, standing up slowly from the chair.

"Easy, little dove." he whispers.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his grandmother watching you both and it makes your legs shake out of nervousness once more.

"Her art studio is just on the second floor," Yoongi says, slinging his arm over your shoulders.

Min Seyoung hums, folding her arm beneath the other as she combs her fingers through her long black hair.

There is awkward silence while you walk down the stairs, your eyes lingering on the deadbolted room that first brought you and Yoongi together.

"It's just next to the nursery!" Yoongi says.

"I have to tell you Y/N. I take art very seriously." Yoongi's grandmother informs you.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, knowing she's just trying to make you nervous.

"You're going to be impressed," he promises.

She hums nonchalantly as you all stop in front of the art studio.

Your palms become sweaty, head swimming and you greedily chug the strawberry water to cool yourself down.

When the door is swung open, you bite on your bottom lip nervously.

Your done paintings line the east wall of the room while your unfinished ones line the west.

You've missed being in here, the faint smell of paint and paint thinner make you relax.

Seyoung folds her hands behind her back as she wades through the room. Her eyes narrow at your paintings and your breath catches in your throat.

"I-It's just a hobby… So…" you find yourself explaining.

"They're beautiful, baby." your boyfriend insists in your ear.

"Well," Seyoung says, tilting her head at the bird hanging from a bird feeder painting, "you do have skill."

Yoongi sighs gratefully, his shoulders straighten up and he kisses your temple softly.

"Why aren't these in art galleries?" his grandmother inquires.

Whoa. That's a big compliment.

She turns to you, head tilting and expecting an answer.

Yoongi steps away, a proud smile spreading over his face.

"Well… It's always just been a hobby. I've never put any stake into it."

"Pretty and humble and sweet?" Seyoung murmurs, raising an eyebrow and looking at her grandson.

He beams at her, sending her the happiest smile he can muster.

"No wonder Yoongi is so fond of you."

You can feel your skin blushing as the corners of her lips finally quirk up.

When she turns back to the paintings, she points at one of the black and grey paintings you've made.

"Is this an ultrasound of your baby?" she asks, leaning forward to inspect it.

"Yes, it's one of three." you reply, smirking as Yoongi runs his hands over your arms excitedly.

"I'd like to have it. To put in my office." she says, turning back to the both of you.

You find yourself smiling, nodding to her statement. "Of course, it's your great grandchild after all!"

She hums humorously. "So it would seem."

Yoongi takes it down from the wall carefully, his eyes enraptured with the painting.

"You'll be a good mother." Seyoung determines, folding her arms.

As Yoongi wraps the painting in bubble wrap, you can feel his grandmother's eyes on you. "Let me suggest something to you both since you seem so intent on keeping one another."

"Please, by all means," Yoongi replies.

"Make it easier for yourselves. Make Myeyoung put Y/N's paintings in her gallery. Set up a contract with Y/N for the new mall, have her make some artwork for it since we don't have any art yet. Get Y/N's name out there so when you do get your divorce from Sera, she won't just be a poor girl that got pregnant on a whim." his grandmother insists.

Yoongi looks up slowly from the painting, his eyes widening.

"You want Y/N to make the art for the Gangnam mall?" he asks, surprised.

"Do as I say Yoongi."

"Yes, grandmother! Right away!" he bubbles excitedly.

Your mouth opens in shock, your hand sliding over it with widening eyes.

"Bring it down to the car, I have a dinner meeting. Y/N, I'll be seeing you soon I'm sure. Yoongi, try not to stir up too much drama for the family name." Seyoung orders, running her hand over your stomach as she exits the art studio.

When the baby kicks beneath her hand, you catch her gentle smirk before she's off down the hallway. "Tell me tomorrow if it's a boy or not."

"Holy shit," your boyfriend breathes, chasing after her with the wrapped painting.

Standing alone in the art studio, you find yourself starting to laugh, hands combing through your hair in shock.

"Grandmother, thank you!" Yoongi whines, finally catching up with her in the museum wing.

When she turns to him, her eyes soften completely. "You're right, you deserve this. Now do it the right way or don't do it at all." she says, taking the painting from him.

He bows to her deeply, "Yes, grandmother. Of course."

"Is Sera really that bad?" she asks, opening the front door.

"Yes," he gasps.

"Well, better to be rid of her then." she surmises, walking out to her car.

Yoongi leans against the doorway, watching as she climbs into the car. If his grandmother somewhat approves, half the battle is fought already. He sighs happily, running his hands over his face.

"Yes!" he whispers fiercely, shaking his fist and slamming the door shut.

It didn't take long for Yoongi to find you, he knew exactly where you'd be. He smirks at the sight before him, you laying down in your bed, hand on your stomach.

"Hi, beautiful." he whispers, kicking off his shoes.

You look up as you hear his voice, a smile spreading over your face.

"I missed this bed," you mumble.

He hums, kneeling at the end of the bed.

You look gorgeous, hair splayed out over your pillow. He finds something tugging at his heart this evening. Something full of burning passion.

"You said you love me," he avows, bending down to kiss you.

"You said it first," you quip, cupping his cheek as he kisses you languidly.

"Because I mean it," he breathes out.

"So do I," you reply.

His hands grab at your hips, teeth tugging on your bottom lip sensuously enough that your pussy clenches around nothingness.

You whimper against his lips, the sound sending arousal flooding through his bones.

"Fuck," he curses, lifting you up.

When you're sitting up comfortably, his fingers pull down the zipper on the back of your dress. His warm hand spreads over the skin of your back.

"I want you around me," he whispers wantonly, rutting his hardening cock against your stomach.

"Daddy," you beg against his lips, feeling your arousal drip onto your panties.

"Get this fucking dress off," he orders and you're quick to do his bidding.

Standing tall before him, you shrug the dress off. He groans gently at your half naked body, his hands greedily grab at your sides to pull you between his parted legs.

His lips kiss at the curve of your swollen breasts, suckling small red petals to your skin marking you as his. You whimper loudly as he snaps his fingers to the clasp of your bra, your breasts bouncing free with a sigh.

"Look at you," he mumbles reverently, peeling the lace away from your skin.

He sighs happily, eyes looking up at you as he trails his lips over your ever heating skin.

"You're beautiful, little dove," he praises, running his hands over your back to the globes of your ass and palming the skin roughly.

You gasp his name loudly, head lolling back. His lips encircle your stiffening nipple, tugging on it sensually.

When he suckles your sensitive skin, your body shudders in his grasp.

"D-Daddy!" you whine, your fingers carding through his black hair.

He hums against you, his tongue quickly flicking at your nipple.

When he suckles once more, you gasp loudly, eyes rolling back. He can taste something creamy on his tongue, and he groans loudly, pulling you closer to his body.

"Fuck, your milk is here," he whispers, cupping your forsaken breast. His fingertips pinch and roll at your nipple, his breath becoming short and caught in his throat as he feels small droplets of milk land on the back of his hand.

"Oh, little dove." he groans.

With blurry, lust filled eyes, you begin to unbutton his shirt.

His hand leaves your ass to cup your stomach, his cock throbbing painfully hard through his suit pants.

Shoving off his shirt and suit jacket, he forsakes your breasts all together. Kissing over your protruding belly, he unbuttons his pants with feral need.

"God, you're incredible." he breathes out, tugging down his pants.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth as his cock is freed. The long length is throbbing, the mushroom tip red with needy desires.

His fingers enmesh into the sides of your underwear, he tugs them harshly, the lace turning into mere strings within his grasp.

"Fuck, you're soaked. You little cock slut," he seethes through his teeth, spreading your legs to get a better view.

Strands of arousal cling to your inner thighs and you whimper as he drags his fingertips along your sodden lips.

"Daddy, fuck." you whimper, eyes squeezing shut.

"Come here," he commands, running his thumb over your cheek.

He wraps you in a passionate kiss, his tongue rough against yours.

"Sit on my cock," he whispers against your lips, pulling your body closer to his.

His fingers rub smooth circles on your clit, your thighs locking as pleasure begins to course through you.

Turning around, your bottom lip purchases between your teeth. Yoongi takes his time, running his hands over your warm flesh. His hands grope at the globes of your ass, kissing over your shoulder as you begin to sit down.

He curses gently, eyes raking over your back.

He can’t begin to understand why he was just so against having sex with you a few months ago. Now, he just can’t control himself. He needs to be in you, around you, on you all the time. Maybe it’s because he loves you more than a single person in their lifetime should -- or maybe it’s because the bond between you, his pregnant girlfriend, and him is just so strong with his child within you.

Gripping the base of his cock, he watches with wondrous eyes as you part your legs over his. Your sodden cunt glides over his length and he curses so softly, it seems to vibrate through you.

"Don't tease, little dove." he commands, but it comes out like a whine.

You steady your hands on his knees, slowly sliding down onto his cock.

The moan he emits, so raw and animalistic sends your body shaking with anticipation.

He's never made love to a woman before you, and now he can't get enough. He enjoys how your breath stutters when he praises you, he adores how tense your body gets as he gives you his pleasure. Everything about you is his -- and it's perfect.

You whimper loudly as he stretches you, your hand hooks around the back of his neck. When his hands palm your breasts, you can feel your pussy quivering and clenching around him.

"I can't believe you're producing milk already, you're such a good mother, hmm?" he whispers in your ear, lips trailing over the shell.

"Y-Yes Daddy," you whimper in reply.

His fingers pinch and roll your nipples gently, the action sending your head lolling back to his shoulder. You grind your hips down on him, adoring how he begins to breathe heavier in your ear.

"God, your pussy is so warm, baby. So fucking wet," he seethes through his teeth.

When you lift up on shaky legs, one of his hands leaves your breast to cup your stomach.

"Daddy, your cock feels so good." you murmur.

"Show me how much you love my cock," he begs, nipping at your earlobe with his teeth.

You begin a steady pace, bouncing on his cock with gritted teeth and starry eyes.

"Oh fuck, there you go, little dove. Making my cock feel so fucking good, baby girl." he breathes out, suckling his marks to the column of your neck.

When you whimper his name, he feels as if he could explode on the spot.

"Your belly feels so nice and big in my hands, little dove." he praises, eyes fluttering shut.

"Y-Yeah? It feels good?" you ask, your voice turning into a whine as you bounce faster on his cock.

"So good, baby. Feels so fucking good." he replies, rubbing circles sensuously on your stomach.

The sound of your wetness echoes throughout the room and you can barely hold yourself together as white hot pleasure courses through you.

"Who does this pregnant pussy belong to? Hmm? Tell me," your boyfriend goads, pinching roughly at your nipple and growling as milk droplets coat his honey skin.

"My pussy belongs to you! I belong to you!" you cry out, swiveling your hips.

"Christ! That's right, little dove. You belong to me!" he seethes, running his hand from your breast to the apex of your thighs.

Your moans become louder as he begins to rub circles to your clit, your mind becoming hazy and foggy with lust.

"God, your cunt is so fucking messy, little dove. You love my cock that much? Your filthy slut of a cunt can't handle my big cock, you're creaming all over me." he moans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder.

He can feel your body tensing and stuttering on top of him, he knows you're becoming tired. His hands grip at your hips, flipping you over easily. You gasp loudly, grabbing onto the edge of the bed.

"Fuck, you like it when Daddy manhandles you like the little whore you are?" he asks, gripping the back of your neck for leverage.

He pounds into you like a man possessed, something animalistic taking over him.

"Yes! Feels so fucking good!" you cry out.

Running his tongue over his lips, he can feel your pussy begin to clench around him. You're close.

He cups your stomach, holding you steady as he fucks into you harder. The quickness knocks the oxygen from your lungs and you can only babble a semblance of his name.

"God! You're incredible!" he whines, throwing his head back.

When he lets go of your neck to spank your ass, you can feel your orgasm approaching like a windstorm.

"D-Daddy! Cumming!" you cry out.

He moans loudly, his balls beginning to tighten as your arousal drips down his thighs. "Fucking hold it." he instructs.

You sob loudly, pressing your face into the mattress. He spanks you roughly, the sight of his handprint smarting on your skin heightens his pleasure. He can hear your small mewls and whines as you bury your face deeper into the bed.

When he rubs your clit, feeling how hot and throbbing it is, his eyes roll back. "God, your clit is so swollen, you little slut."

"Daddy!" you beg, white knuckling the sheets in your hands.

"Cum." he commands and you fall undone with that simple word.

Your heartbeat roars in your ears, emitting sobs of pleasure into the sheets.

He curses loudly, gripping at your hips. He begins to drive himself home within you, adoring how you squeal and beg for more beneath him.

"Pregnant little slut beneath me. Letting me defile her dirty pussy with my child inside her. What does that say about you, baby?"

Sluggishly raising your head, you whimper. "I'm your little pregnant slut."

He curses loudly, pulling out of you and flipping you over.

"You're my little slut, hmm?" he prods, thrusting back into you with unrivaled quickness. Your nails claw at his arms, nodding with a whimper.

He wraps your legs around his waist, pounding into you with everything he has.

You watch with loving eyes as his black hair sticks to his face, how he looks down at you like you put all of the stars in the sky just for him.

His hands rub at your stomach, bottom lip tucking into his mouth.

"Why're you my little slut? Cause you like my big cock fucking your cunt open? Is that it? You like how I split your pregnant pussy open like this?" he asks, pinching at your leaking nipple.

"Because I-I love you!" you cry, running your hands over his chest.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, the words sending him into a sensory overload.

"Fuck, I love you too, little dove. I love you so much baby, it fucking hurts me!" he mumbles, feeling his cock begin to twitch and throb within you once more.

"God, you're so beautiful," he praises, finding himself coming to an end.

You gasp loudly when he palms your swollen breasts once more, how absolutely gentle he is.

"You're gonna make me cum, baby." he whispers.

Your pussy clenches around him again and he knows you're close to your second orgasm. He wills himself to wait, dying to feel your release just one more time.

Your thighs lock around him, quivering and shaking.

"You're close, huh beautiful? You want to cum on my big cock again? Want me to feel how much you love me?" he asks, running his thumbs over your continuously leaking nipples.

You nod incessantly, back arching off of the bed. "Gonna cum again for you Daddy, you make my pussy feel so good!"

"Good girl," he praises.

He lifts your hips higher, the head of his cock dragging against the sweet spot inside of you with each thrust.

You scream his name in ecstacy, your eyes squeezing shut as he curses.

"Daddy!" you warn loudly, grabbing onto the sheets beside you.

"Fuck yes, hold your belly and cum for me!" he instructs, fucking deeper into you with every stroke.

You do as told, holding the weight of your stomach in your hands.

"Cum," he seethes through gritted teeth and you see stars.

Your cum squirts onto his thighs, your body shaking and whimpering.

"Fuck! Good girl, little dove! I'm cumming!" your boyfriend moans loudly.

You gasp loudly, feeling his warm cum paint your cervix. He breathes raggedly above you, hands running through his sweat soaked hair.

"Jesus Christ," he gasps, his throat tight and dry.

You whimper when he pulls out of you, your bottom lip tucks between your teeth.

"I fucking love you," he whispers, watching how his cum begins to cream from your swollen cunt.

"I love you too," you breathe out.

He hums gently, minding your stomach as he bends down for a kiss. His lips are soft and loving against yours.

"So you're going to be a super famous artist now? I get to live with one of the greatest forward thinking, artistic minds?" he quips, pulling you into his arms.

"What? That's Leonardo Da Vinci. Do I look like a Leonardo to you?" you retort with a laugh, curling into his side.

"Maybe… Although you look more like a Donatello to me."

You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. "You're an idiot."

"Well you're a smartass," he gripes, slapping your backside gently.

"You're lucky I love you," you mumble, pressing your face into his chest.

He shivers as you kiss over his small tattoos, eyes fluttering shut gratefully. "Not as much as I love you." he whispers, running his hand over your back gently.

"This is the start to something good, little dove. I can feel it." Yoongi declares, kissing the top of your head.

Once the ball is rolling, there's very few things that can stop it. And Yoongi intends for it to roll all the way to divorce court.’

Next Chapter ---->

Third Wheeling Taglist - @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie, @preciouschimine, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii, @kooafraid, @ladykadyrova, @singjisu, @yazanii, @moonlitmyg, @justzeera, @absolutefantrash, @whocaresarchives, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx, @bt21chim, @flowerboyhobi, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper

I’m sorry for those it didn’t tag, even some that have always been able to tag just didn’t today and I don’t understand why!

#third wheeling #btscreatorscorner #thebt #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #ceo!au #ceo!yoongi #yoongi smut #dom!yoongi #pregnant smut

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buckys-forgotten-plum · 3 years

Text

Hold Me Tighter ||3||

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Peter and reader have a talk and Bucky overhears.

Warnings: Swearing I think? A big of angst, fluff, Buck jumping to conclusions bc he’s a soft dummie...

A/N: Hej hej friends, it’s been a bit since i’ve posted something. My life has been wild and though i’ve been working on various things I have yet to complete said various things. Hopefully posting this gets me back into the groove. Please enjoy and give me feedback as its very much appreciated!! <3

Part ||1|| Part ||2||

~~~~~~

“Do you have an ace?”

“Nope, go fish,”

“Do you have a crush on Bucky?”

You almost drop your hand full of cards on the ground as the words leave the man's mouth.

“Wha-Peter!”

“What? It kinda looks obvious, on both sides, but it’s like you guys or holding back or something,” Peter shrugs nonchalantly as he plucks a card from the deck before laying down another set of matches.

You pout, “Why are you so good at this game?”

“Answer my question first,” He laughs lightly while playfully nudging your shoulder with his fist.

You and Peter had been the ones left at the tower while the team was on their latest mission. You felt grateful for the company, or at least you did before he started asking questions while he taught you how to play various card games. The pair of you sat facing each other, legs crossed and knees almost touching as the deck of cards sat in the middle.

“I dunno… Maybe?” You could feel the fire in your cheeks and ears as you answered, forgetting to ask if Pete had a card and taking straight from the deck instead.

Peter smiled widely and set down the few cards he still had, putting his full attention on you, “That’s great, Y/n! I think he likes you too! Why haven’t you guys gotten together yet? You spend like every day with each other when Bucky isn’t on a mission. He even cooks for you all the time and I’ve never seen him do that with anyone-”

“Peter, it's not like that. I’m pretty sure he just thinks of me as like… A charity case or something. He’s helped me a lot since I’ve gotten here but it was solely because he felt obligated too. Kind of like when you find a puppy on the street,” You set your cards down to the side as well, using your free hands to nervously tangle your fingers together.

“That's ridiculous! Y/n he calls you pet names all the time, he carries you around, I even saw him kiss your cheek before he left!” Peter points an accusatory finger at you.

Your eyes widen in shock and you stutter before responding, “Why are you paying so much attention to us? It’s weird how much you notice...And besides, lately he hasn’t really been the same. He tells me that he’s always busy with training or meetings or something, and I get that it happens, especially with what you guys do! But it just feels like he’s been avoiding me lately,”

“The whole team has noticed! You guys have done almost everything but make it official,” The man sighs exasperatedly before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against yours, a silly habit the two of you developed for serious conversations, making you giggle a bit before pushing back, “You should talk with him about it dude,”

You keep your forehead pressed against Pete's, sighing quietly before responding, “I just think… If he doesn’t feel the same way, then everything is going to change. He won’t want to spend time with me anymore, or talk to me, he won’t wanna watch movies with me… He just- he won’t be able to think of me as more than just the silly mutant that’s been obsessed with him for as long as she’s known him,” Your face had scrunched up into a scowl as you thought about what life would be like without Bucky by your side.

“Hey, hey, hey! He won’t do that, I promise. Bucky isn’t like that, he’d never just start to ignore you or think of you as some obsessed girl. It’s obvious he cares about you a lot, and I think it would be good for both of you to talk about it,”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start-”

“Start with how you feel, put it all out in the open,” Pete says confidently.

“That’s crazy!”

“How is it crazy?”

“I can’t just go up to him and say, ‘Hey I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve been deeply enthralled and have wanted to be with you since the first time we met!’”

Peter was about to respond, but a deep voice interrupted, “Y/n?”

You and Pete pull your heads apart and gape at the tall brunette standing in the doorway, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown and his eyes full of confusion. “Bucky I-”

He puts a hand up before you can continue, “I um-I gotta go shower. Sorry I interrupted you guys,”

You sat frozen on the floor as Bucky quickly made his exit, Peter switching his gaze between you and the now empty doorway. “Oh my god-” he muttered in absolute bewilderment.

“Wh-what just happened? What should I do? Oh my god he hates me! He’ll never speak to me again-”

“No! No, no, no it’s fine! Just a misunderstanding! You need to go after him and clear it up,” Peter tells you, hurriedly standing up before grabbing your hands and helping you stand. “You need to tell him everything Y/n. *Everything.*”

You nod your head in agreement, starting for the doorway, “Thanks pete, I’ll see you later,”

Peter’s response doesn’t quite register as you quickly walk down the maze of hallways, trying to find the fastest possible route to Bucky’s room. Your heart felt like it was pounding hard enough to escape your chest.

You let out a yelp as you suddenly hit a wall, “Oh hey kid, you seen Barnes yet? He was lookin for ya,” Tony’s hands are on each of your arms to steady you as he begins to ask how your week with Peter went.

You can’t focus on any of his questions, solely focused on fixing the mess you had made.

“Kid? You okay?” Tony steps closer to you, his overbearing father coming out as he reaches up to check your temperature, “hmm maybe we should get you to med, you feel a little hot,”

“Tony I’m fine-” You try and back out of his grasp but he holds onto you firmly.

“Hey if you’re gettin’ a fever we want to catch it quick-”

“I don’t have a fever, please-”

“C’mon, it’ll only take a minute,”

“Oh my god, goodbye!” You huff out before pushing Tony away from you and using your power to disappear from the hallway.

Tony lets out an annoyed sigh, “If you get anyone else sick you’re the one who’s taking care of them!” he shouts into the empty space.

You however, had already popped up outside of Bucky’s door, your hands clenched into fists of stress and nerves. Your right hand went to open the door but when you tried to twist the handle it didn’t budge.

“Friday can you let me in?”

“Mr. Barnes has specified to not be bothered for the time being,” The AI responded simply.

You let out a huff of frustration, “Okay well it’s either you unlock the door and let me in or I just pop up in there, so…”

There was a moment of silence before you heard the quiet click of the door unlocking, making you smile victoriously, “Thank you, Friday,”

Bucky was still in the bathroom with the door closed when you had entered his room. You took a quick look around before deciding to sit on the bed and wait for him to be done. Your fingers began to tangle and pull at themselves in a stressful manner and you couldn’t help the tight feeling in your chest. It only got worse when you heard the running water turn off and the sound of Bucky drying and dressing himself.

When Bucky opens the door, the both of you freeze in place, eyes locked on to each other for what felt like ages.

Bucky is the first to break eye contact and move, “I thought I told Friday I didn’t want any visitors,” he mumbles quietly, going over to toss the damp towel in his hands into a laundry hamper.

“I uh- I told her I would just pop in anyways…”

“Shouldn’t invade people's privacy like that, kid,” his cold tone made you cringe, “can’t start abusing your power like that,”

“Listen Bucky, I came here to explain-”

“You don’t gotta explain anything to me. I saw what I saw, it’s not a big deal,” he interrupts you and avoids your eyes as he begins to unpack from his mission.

“Except I think you might not understand entirely-” you begin only to be interrupted again.

“No! No, I get it. Pete is a good kid, good morals, good background. I can see why you’d like him, it makes sense,” Bucky’s voice was clearly stressed as he spoke and it just made your chest tighten even more.

“Bucky no-”

“He’s closer to your age, you have a lot in common, spend a lot of time together…”

“Why is everyone interrupting me today?” you groan out in frustration before getting up off of the bed and walking over to the disgruntled man.

You move to sit on the other side of the duffle bag he continues to empty, still avoiding your eyes. You let out a huff of annoyance and quickly grab hold of Bucky's hands, bringing them to a pause.

“Kid, I gotta unpack-”

“No. Not until you let me say what I need to say. Without interrupting me,” You state firmly.

Bucky visibly clenches his jaw, giving you a small nod to continue, “You didn’t hear me say those words to Peter-”

“Yes I di-” “What did I just say? No interruptions!”

Bucky sighs, “Sorry,”

You take another breath before restarting, “You didn’t hear me say those words to Peter. You heard me telling him about what I’d say to someone else,”

Bucky’s face scrunches up in confusion as he replays your words in his head, trying to put the pieces together, but failing. “Who were you going to say-”

“You! Ya big dummy. I was telling Peter what I would say to you,” You blurt out with a breath of exasperation.

Bucky shook his head, as if to try and wake himself up from a daydream, “Are you serious?”

“Yes! Of course I am, Buck. I- Peter said that it would be good for the both of us if I admitted my true feelings for you, and I didn’t know what I would say, so he suggested that I just flat out tell you, and…” You trail off, hoping the older can figure out the rest on his own.

“And that’s when I walked in? When you had figured out what exactly you’d say?”

“More or less, yeah,” you answer quietly, giving Bucky’s hands a gentle squeeze to try and bring even more reassurance.

“Why were you so close to each other?” You looked back up to Bucky, a smile gracing your features as his gaze finally met yours.

“Because we were having a serious discussion. Isn’t that what everyone does?” You ask, brows slightly knit in confusion.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, “No I think that’s only you two,”

“Oh…”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, mulling over what you’d like to say next and trying to organize your thoughts. When Bucky didn’t say anything for a while you decided to continue on, “So um...Do you maybe uh-maybe do you feel the same way? About me?”

Bucky doesn’t even wait a beat to answer, “Oh my god yes! Yes I’ve felt the same way for ages, doll!”

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you take in the new information, “You have?”

Bucky nods his head, a smile on his face as he looks into your eyes, “Sweetheart I’ve been head over heels for you since I first caught you in midair,” he chuckles.

You grin at Bucky and feel the familiar flickering of your powers take place, knowing your emotions were much too strong to stop it. Within the blink of an eye you had popped out of existence and popped right back up into Bucky’s lap, making him fall over in a huff of laughter.

You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into the softness of his hair, “What gives then you goof? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky wraps his arms around your waist and gives you a tight squeeze, “Once you started gettin’ the hang of your powers and began training with the rest of the team, I dunno… It felt like you didn’t need me there for you anymore, I didn’t want to risk holding you back from making new friends and connections,” Your heart split in two hearing Bucky’s explanation.

You pull your face out of his lovely smelling hair and stare into the soldier's pretty blue eyes, “That’s silly Bubba. You would never hold me back! You’re the reason why I’m so comfortable around everyone now. You gave me the strength to get out of my comfort zone,” Bucky grinned at your words and shook his head, mentally chiding himself for being so foolish.

“M’sorry lovie, I guess I got in my own head about everything. Almost messed it all up too because I got so upset when I saw you and Peter,” Your chest swelled with happiness when he calls you one of your favorite nicknames, knowing the two of you were back to normal.

“It’s okay! I can understand why you thought what you did. But I promise I’ve only ever been deeply enthralled with you,” You laugh and push your forehead up against Bucky’s, making him let out a deep melody of chuckles.

“Does this mean I don’t have to hold back anymore? I can love on you as much as I want?” Bucky pairs his question with an affectionate nuzzle in the crook of your neck before looking back up into your gleeful eyes.

You giggle and brush your nose up against his as you nod your head, “You coulda done that before,”

Bucky’s hands move from around your waist to your thighs, easily lifting the both of you up from the plush carpet, “M’never lettin’ you go ever again. Gonna hold on real tight, sweet girl.”

You keep your arms wrapped around his neck and try to pull Bucky closer, burying your face back into the crook of his neck and breathing him in. He moves the two of you over to his bed and flops down onto it, pulling the both of you under the covers and tangling his legs with yours. The two of you stay like that for what feels like ages.

A perfectly content tangle of happiness and relief.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes request #marvel fic #Winter Soldier #peter parker #tony stark #Bucky angst

102 notes · View notes

solarwonux · 3 years

Text

Beautiful Stranger || Minghao

artist!minghao x f!reader

w.c: 4.5k

warnings: angst, fluff, its a little suggestive, self doubts

notes: In celebration of my baby’s birthday I did a thing and I’m not sorry. Happy Birthday Hao!!!

Enjoy and let me know your thoughts.xx

masterlist

Xu Minghao is a beautiful mystery that was often left unsolved.

He prefers it this way.

Minghao realizes this after his first heartbreak. Then again after his second heartbreak. After his third, he decides to give up. If love wasn’t in the cards for him then why should he bend over backwards to reach it?

When he reached his twenties and everything spiraled out of control way too fast for his liking. He painted like his life depended on it because realistically in his universe it did. He got around using people for his pleasure and then left them out in the cold just like it had been done to him. Minghao didn’t have time for love, nor did he want it. He reserved his love for his canvases, paintbrushes, and different colors of monochromatic paints.

Then he met you.

His monochromatic colors were replaced by the sweet strawberry pink of your lipstick. His paint brushes swirled around his canvases to the melody of your laughter. Before he knew it a piece of you had infiltrated all of his paintings. Whether it was the exact shade of blue from the shirt you wore that day or the sparkling gaze behind your eyes that resembled his night sky.

He had fallen for you, for the girl that visited the university gallery every Wednesday morning to sit in front of his atrocious paintings that were unfortunately displayed as part of his final project before graduation.

At first, he never said anything, just watched you from afar wondering what thoughts were running through your head as you admired. Did you think his paint stroke pattern was lacking? Did you think he should’ve chosen other colors? Did you think his choice in reds was too dramatic?

Whatever you were thinking, it drove him insane not knowing.

He would pace for minutes before entering the gallery every Wednesday morning. Sometimes he hoped you wouldn’t be there so he could judge his own paintings in silence. His wishes never came true, as none of them ever did but it didn’t hurt to try.

“Are you stalking me?” You asked one Monday morning. After your fourth visit, you had noticed him silently walking around the gallery, sneaking glances at you from the peripherals of your eyes. At first you had assumed he was an art enthusiast like you, and admired the artwork that was displayed. Then you caught him waiting for you outside of the gallery one morning, only entering a few minutes after you had. It could’ve been just a coincidence that morning, but when it started happening more often it scared you.

So you changed your visiting dates. Opting for every Monday instead of Wednesday an hour later than your usual time. It had gone smoothly for a week until he caught on and that’s where you were now.

“Hello,” You waved your hand in front of his face, his features paralyzed in shock only until he caught sight of your hand. “Are you stalking me?

Minghao shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, “N-No, I-I um...these are my paintings.” He shrugs and signals with his head around the four paintings that haunted him day and night.

“So, you’re telling me you’re the The8?” You ask in disbelief as Minghao cringes. There were days when he regrets choosing that as his pseudonym. After all, he was eight when he created it after coming home from his first art lesson. But letting go of it would be letting go of that little boy whose dreams were bigger than his body and he couldn’t disappoint him especially not now.

“Just Minghao is fine.” He nods and takes his hands out of his pockets before drying them against his jeans. “Do you actually like my paintings?”

You scoff before rolling your eyes, “No I just like sitting here.” Minghao’s face falls causing you to let out a shy laugh before shoving his shoulder away playfully, “I’m playing with you I love them actually.”

“Why?”

“That’s a stupid question the The8.” Minghao rolls his eyes before breaking out into a smile as he waits for you to continue. “They’re not peaceful, in fact, I sometimes find them overwhelming to look at but they bring me peace.” Minghao’s cheeks have never felt hotter than before, his heart is palpitating at an uneven time. No one has ever described his painting the way you have and he feels like he’s going to throw up.

“That’s a stupid reason.”

Minghao is now painting nonstop

“When are you going to paint me like one of your French girls?” You ask, chin on his naked chest as you draw patterns against the ridges of his stomach. You have no artistic talent but you love creating invisible masterpieces against his skin. He’s the only one that can see them and he loves it.

“I don’t have any French girls.” He rolls his eyes before sitting up against your headboard and grabbing his discarded boxers and putting them on. “And that’s not the quote.”

“Alright Titanic enthusiast, let me live out my fantasy.” You joke and Minghao laughs as he lays back down bringing you along with him. You pout, “When are you going to paint me?”

“Who says I haven’t already?” He smirks down at you and captures your lips with his in a slow sensual kiss. You sigh against his lips and pull him close, “I think you’re lying.”

“Impossible lying is a sin and I am a child of God.”

“And here you are consummating outside of marriage, God is disappointed in you Hao.” You peck his lips one last time before sitting up. You stand up taking your sheets along with you. Minghao stays laying down on your bed like it was his very own. He watches you closely, taking in the way your skin glows against the light of the rising sun. The way your hips dip when they meet your thighs and he can’t wait to go home again to his canvas, monochromatic paints, and paintbrushes.

If he knew that meeting you would cure his unfortunate art disease he would’ve tried a little harder to find you.

Six months ago his mornings consisted of him rushing out of bed, getting dressed as fast as possible so he makes it to the university art gallery before you. Now his mornings consist of him rushing out of bed, getting dressed as fast as possible to bring you breakfast before you leave for your morning class.

Most days though, you end up pinning him against your front door before he could mutter a ‘good morning’ to you. He doesn’t complain though, he loves the way your body melts against his. Like you were made for him, and fuck he loves it so much he wants to die.

If he were to believe in soulmates he would think you were his.

Minghao’s parents find out.

When he went away for university Minghao lied and told his parents he was studying business communications. He wasn’t sure if they had believed him or if he didn’t care but he had spent four years studying art without their knowledge. He was living in a peaceful fantasy not sure when he’d have to wake up and tell his parents the truth. That their trust fund had gone to a degree where nothing was guaranteed.

He guesses that time is now.

Minghao and you have officially been dating for two months. And he decides to take you home for Christmas.

At first you had declined, told him that he should spend Christmas with his parents and that you were fine staying on campus alone until New Years. Your parents had gone on a couples retreat. It was needed they weren’t doing so hot for years now so you didn’t mind. Minghao on the other hand wouldn’t take no for an answer and that’s how you ended up with him hand in hand on the front door step of his childhood home.

“I should’ve stayed Hao, what if they don’t like me?” You practically yell at a low volume. Minghao rolls his eyes and brings your palm up to his lips. He leaves behind a reassuring kiss before ringing the doorbell again.

“It’s impossible to dislike you. By the end of the night they’ll probably like you a lot more than me.” He reassures bumping his shoulder against yours lightly. You stumble a little and Minghao pulls your hand to keep you from falling. His arm comes to your waist and he’s about to kiss you when the front door falls open. The two of you caught, the guilt rushing towards your faces as his parents stare back at the two of you with wide smiles.

“Don’t stand out there for too long, you'll catch a cold.” His mother's soft voice sounds and wraps around the warm porch light. They open the door further, Minghao’s grip on your hand gets tighter as he pulls you into his home. The warmth wraps around you like a protective blanket and you find yourself never wanting to leave.

For the remainder of the night until dinner Minghao doesn’t leave your side. His hand is on you at all times whether it’s on your arm, or appropriately placed against your back. His mother shows you around the small but big enough for their tiny family house, while his father finishes dinner in the kitchen. When the three of you reach Minghao’s childhood room you feel the tears brimming in your eyes.

His walls were covered with paintings he had made while growing up and seeing them displayed makes you feel proud. You see the improvement and growth in every single one as they’re sequenced by years. Your favorite one is the one he painted when he was thirteen. He notices you lingering on that one for longer than usual as his mother’s voice echoes off his navy blue walls. He never understood what it was about his art that made you forget the world around you, and you never once could explain why to him without changing the subject right away. He just hopes that one day he can get it out of you to understand your admiration.

“You like it?” Minghao whispers in your ear and it makes you jump. He chuckles as his arms find their way around your waist, the panic rushes through you at the speed of light.

“Minghao your mo-“

“Dad called her down to help, it’s just us right now.” He kisses your cheek and stays there before trailing soft kisses down your neck. He kisses it lightly, the goosebumps appearing against your arms. “This was a mistake I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

You go frigid against his chest, as he continues to kiss down your neck until it reaches your sweet spot. “W-Why?” You move your head to the side, giving him more room. He smirks, sucking the spot he’s memorized like it were his color theory notes.

“I’m immorally thinking of every single way I can have you falling apart while my parents are downstairs.”

“Dinner is ready!”

You should’ve kept your mouth shut, that was a problem you always had and it never resulted in anything good.

Somewhere in the midst of dinner you had briefly mentioned your love for Minghao’s artwork and how proud you were that his paintings were being displayed at the University gallery. But you hadn’t known that Minghao had lied and never told his parents what exactly he was studying.

“We’ve been paying for a useless degree?” His father forcefully drops the fork against his plate, a loud clang sounds through the small dining room.

“It’s not useless, it's what I love.” Minghao fights back and stands up, “This is why I didn’t tell you, I knew you wouldn’t approve.” He pushes in his chair, hitting the table making you and his mother jump.

“Of course we wouldn’t, you’re never going to get anywhere in life with an art degree. I didn’t raise you to be a lowlife artist.”

“You barely raised me at all.” Minghao tugs at his roots, he sends you a glare and leaves the room. The tension evident in the room and you don’t know if you should stay seated or follow him. When you hear the front door shut and you go with the latter.

“I-I’m sorry, dinner was amazing.” You stood up and pushed your chair in carefully. You knew you should’ve stayed home, but that was before when you feared his parents weren’t going to like you. Now you should’ve stayed home because your big mouth was always causing trouble.

You made your way around Minghao’s house as fast as you could and walked out forgetting about your coat and purse.

The bone chilling cold gives you whiplash as soon as you walk out. Your eyes land on Minghao, his foot tapping impatiently against the snow covered ground. He’s looking at head into the dead of the night while a cigarette burns in between his fingers. You knew he smoked but he had reassured you it wasn’t a problem and he only did it to relieve himself of all the unnecessary stress. He had stopped though, when you had become his stress reliever instead, but now you were the cause of his stress.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t know.” You hugged yourself in a poor attempt to keep yourself warm. Minghao scoffed and brought the white stick up to his lips. His eyes closing in pleasure as he takes a long drag. “If I had known I wouldn’t have sai-“

“Sometimes I wish you would just stay out of my business.” He huffed. He flicks his finished cigratte onto the ground and crushes it beneath his boot. “You had no business in telling them.” He sends you a glare and shakes his head in disappointment. You feel the tears start to well in the corner of your eyes and you dig your nails into your arms to keep yourself from letting them go.

“I didn’t know. What was I supposed to do?” You throw your hands up in the air. You were frustrated with the situation and upset with yourself. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go, but you always managed to ruin every good thing that came into your life. And this was no different.

“I don’t know, not say anything.”

“I just wanted to show them that I don’t care what you do because I’ll support you no matter what.” You sigh, a shiver goes through your spine as he stands up. You take a step back, the look in his eyes giving the bitter winter cold a run for its money.

“I don’t want it.”

Minghao misses you.

Since Christmas he hasn’t been able to paint anything. His mind keeps going back to the look of hurt on your face as soon as the words left his mouth. The tears that fell when you walked down the steps of his porch, shivering, out into the freezing cold. He didn’t run after you because he was afraid you finally saw him for who he was. Someone that was undeserving of your heart of gold. But he stayed and smoked two more cigarettes before walking into his childhood home.

Minghao hasn’t spoken to you in three weeks and tries to fill the void with his cigarettes, to let the poison smoke consume his entire body. Every time he finishes a pack in one sitting he feels even more disgust towards himself.

He wonders if he should call you and apologize for that night. His mind constantly tells him no while his heart continues to yearn for you. He misses your delicate touch burning his skin, he misses getting lost in your soft eyes. He misses your voice and how it sounds like a warm melody even when you’re upset. He misses you like crazy that he feels like he’s losing his life.

The blank canvas before him laughs at him, his constant frustration with himself grows as the night envelops his makeshift studio in his tiny apartment. He needs to paint. He needs one more painting before graduation, one more and he'll be out of the educational art cuffs. One more and he’ll be free to do whatever he wants. But he just can’t because all he sees is you, your hurt, the greyscale of his cigarette smoke and the bright light of his phone as his thumb hoovers over your contact name.

He almost lets himself cave in too. If it wasn’t for the soft knocks on his front door he would’ve finally called. He feels the blood go up to his ears as he realizes the time. No one in their right mind would show up at his front door at two in the morning. Unless it was you.

He lets his feet carry him towards his door. Minghao knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up but had always been a hopeful kid no matter how many times his hope had been knocked down. He takes a deep breath, his long fingers wrapping around the door handle and he rips it open like a two day old band aid. Your tired eyes meet his miserable ones for the first time in three weeks and he feels like he can breathe again.

“I-I...um...come in.” He steps aside scratching the back of his neck. His hair was getting long again. He usually would’ve cut it by now, but you had once told him you loved how boyish it made him look. So he keeps it.

“I’m here to pick up my stuff.” You walk past him. Your oversized hoodie swallows you whole and he can’t help but want to feel your warmth against him. He stays put in his side of the room taking in your appearance, your hair was a different color, a lighter shade than the one he had last seen you in. He loves it. “Minghao my stuff please, I’m tired and want to go home.”

Minghao panics and he closes the space between the two of you, his arms find their way around you and pulls you close. “Don’t leave please, I’m a coward who’s scared and I lo-I-I’m just sorry for everything I know you deserve better than someone who’s never going to amount to anything but please for tonight don’t leave me alone. You can forget about me in the morning if you want, just not tonight please.” He begs into your neck.

Minghao has never once cried for another person, not during his first three heartbreaks, not when his dog died. But the thought of losing you forever shatters him and he finally allows himself to weep.

After the initial shock of having him close to you again after missing him for what seemed like years. You hug him back. His sobs take over the dead silence of the night as you hold him, smoothing out the wrinkles of his paint stained t-shirt. You missed him more than air and although you were still upset with him. The two of you still had many things to talk about, all you wanted to do was hold him the same way he’s held you during moments of pure vulnerability.

“I’ll stay.”

Minghao is in love and he doesn’t know how to tell you.

His paintings don’t hang in the university art gallery anymore. They’re locked away in the storage closet in his apartment. All of them collecting dust, except for two.

When the two of you graduated. The art gallery took down his paintings to display the incoming freshman’s artwork. You had gone with him for moral support as the two of you watched his most hated--your favorite paintings come down. It was a bittersweet moment for the two of you but you could tell it had affected him more than he led on.

“When I get my first paycheck I’ll buy one off you.” You whispered to him as he walked you back to your dorm room. Minghao stops dead in his tracks, his eyes brimming with unshed tears as he grips his two largest canvases in his hands.

“Why would you do that?” He shakes his head before closing the distance between the two of you.

“Because I love your paintings idiot.” You roll your eyes and hold the small canvases you were holding against your chest. “And I love you.”

Minghao’s world stops. It freezes and goes blank. He swallows slowly to make sure he’s heard you right, and when he notices your shaking hands gripping his precious canvases he’s positive he has.

“No you don’t.” He blurts out before he can think and he sees the hurt flash across your perfect features signaling that he has fucked up. He doesn’t know how to handle your confession. Everyone he has ever loved laughs in his face and tells him he was an idiot for thinking they would ever feel anything for him. He almost waits for you to retreat your statement but when you don’t he feels his heart against his throat.

“Fuck, fine sorry I said anything.” You scoff and turn around, walking as fast as you could to create all the distance between the two of you. You knew you should’ve never confessed, you knew he would never feel the same way as you did. You were chaos, too much to handle, at times to clingy and not even that good of a fuck to keep a man. But there had been a little pocket of hope in you reserved for Minghao and sometimes he stared at you for longer than a person should stare at another. So you took your shot. Knowing you could have possibly read all the lingering touches and stares and blatantly obvious signs wrong. That you would end up in another heartbreak but you had really thought your subconscious had been wrong.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, girl.

Wait, wait, stop walking.” Minghao yells looking around frantically and setting his paintings against an isolated light post. He uses all the energy he has left in him and runs after you. His shoes forcefully stomping against the cracked pavement. Minghao’s mind is running at miles an hour and the only thing he can do is laugh because of how badly he wants to kiss you. Tell you you’ve been the sole owner of his heart ever since the first time he spotted you silently admiring his terrible paintings all those months ago and paint.

Is this really the life of an artist?

He’s an idiot, the biggest one on this planet but for the first time in his life, he’s determined to not let the best thing that has ever happened to him slip away.

You have no choice but to stop at the streetlight and Minghao catches up. His breathing is ragged, his fake glasses are slipping down the bridge of his nose, and his hands are shaking from the adrenaline surging through his veins.

He places his hands against your shoulders making you jump, “Minghao forget I said anything it was a mis--.” His mouth is on yours before you could finish your sentence. His hands travel down your back and he pulls you closer, crushing his paintings in between your bodies.

“I love you too,”

Minghao is nervous.

The day he’s been looking forward to and dreading for the past three years has finally arrived. His nerves course through his body like shocks of electricity and he feels like throwing up. When he met you all those years ago, the only person who encouraged his unachieveable dream, in the stupid university gallery, he never once thought he would end up here.

“Baby, are you ready?” You peak your head into the green room, the dark shade of red adjourning your lips catches him off guard. His hands itching to grab the sketchbook and pack of pastels he kept in his bag for moments of random inspiration. He refrains when he remembers he has people waiting for him. People who have gone out of their way to come to see him, his paintings and the opening of his highly anticipated art gallery.

You walk in and close the door behind you. You stand in Minghao’s path and he stops pacing.“I can tell Jun to stall for a few more minutes. He has the crowd wrapped around his finger with his terrible jokes, I mean some of them aren’t that bad but still they aren’t good.” You put your hand against his cheek, your thumb soothing away the worry lines around his perfect mouth.

“How many people are out there?” He whispers and puts his forehead against yours. He thought his nerves were bad on his wedding day, but he’s sure this takes the cherry. He won’t tell you, even though he has a hunch that you already know.

“Last time Mingyu and your father updated me we had reached a few hundred.”

“A few hundred.” Minghao’s eyes grow wider than the moon, his nerves get worse. “I can’t go out there. What if they don’t like me?”

“Look at me Hao.” You place two fingers underneath his chin and raise it. His pupils are wide with uncertainty and you do everything in your power to keep yourself from laughing. Nothing was cuter than Minghao when he was nervous. “You always sell yourself short, these people fell in love with your paintings and I have no doubt in my mind that they’ll love you. I mean honey look at where we ended up.” You offer him a smile before leaning in to place a soft kiss against his plump lips.

“Yeah but that’s different. I was a nobody back then, no one had a preconceived notion of me then. I’m afraid these people might expect a broken artist with a smoking habit and that’s not me. At least not anymore.”

“Who cares what they might think of you, this isn’t about them. This is about you and your dream, don’t let the opinions of strangers ruin this for you.” You nod your head rubbing your thumb over his lips to get rid of the residue left behind by your liptstick. “If it makes you feel better I’m here and so are your parents and your friends. We’ll always support you baby.”

Minghao takes a deep breath and nods shyly. “Can you just hold me for a while. I want to be yours only for these last few minutes of freedom.”

“Minghao you’re making it sound like you’re selling your soul.” You giggle and fix the loose strands of hair that had fallen against his forehead.

“I’ll stay.”

Xu Minghao is a beautiful mystery that was often left unsolved.

Until you walked into his life and took your time to solve it.

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solari-writes-things · 3 years

Text

Boxing Day

requested by: @kind-wolf

Solari says: I feel like this is a little more brief than some of the things I write, so I hope that it provides a little more of the comical vibe to make up for it.

Prompts -

#11: “You didn’t tell me your friend was cute! Now what am I going to do?”

Happy Lowman x Reader

WARNINGS: Language

gif credit: to the OP (pulled from Google).

MORE HAPPY | MORE SOA | > MASTERLIST < | REQUESTS OPEN

It took you awhile to convince yourself to finally visit the SAMCRO clubhouse. Not for any particular reason, it’s just that the party scene just wasn’t your preference.

However, you had known Harry Winston for years. You once lived in Charming, when you were a teenager, before moving a little further South of the small town. Finally deciding to move back, you rekindled your friendships with him and Jackson Teller, which prompted an invitation for a clubhouse party.

You almost didn’t want to accept just on the idea of a party. You weren’t too much of an extrovert, preferring to meet everyone on your own accord; however, you didn’t plan on making any trips out of your own time. This was the chance that you had to meet the other people your two friends mentioned prior, their loyal brothers in arms.

They always spoke highly of them, confident that you would get along swimmingly. You had the talent of getting along with almost anyone, though, within reason.

So here you were, sitting in a crowd that surrounded a rinky-dink boxing ring outside of the bar itself. Harry, or Opie, had been sitting to your right to watch the men brawl. There was two in the center, dancing around one another and swinging harshly. One was Tig, whom you had met on arrival to the party, and the other you hadn’t quite met yet.

Opie had been calling him Happy, which you weren’t sure was his real name. The man was anything but that, tall and tattooed all over the parts of his body that you could see. His hands were wrapped tightly in tape, stained just a slight shade of red from the beating that he had been giving Tig these last five minutes. His eyes were serious, feral even, as he shuffled around the ring.

You tapped your fingers against your beer bottle calmly, watching the two of them circle. The jerking of their arms, followed by the sounds of their skin being beat made you cringe where you sat. Something about the two of them in the ring together almost made you a little fearful.

Two opposing, wild forces clashing against each other.

Tig managed to land a couple of back-to-back punches, which seemed to have Happy in a bit of a daze in the corner of the ring. He would try to follow up with another barrage of hits, but the President of the Sons of Anarchy stood up from his ringside seat and called the match to an end.

Both men were almost coated in a matching shade of red, and you almost didn’t notice until they had been called to a stop.

Instead of them sauntering out, their expressions went from wild to smiling; the quickness of it all was enough to give you whiplash. They bring each other in for a hard hug, before both of them duck through the ropes on opposing sides.

Happy dropped down calmly in front of you and Opie, giving a nod of greeting to Opie before approaching. The longer you paid attention to him, the longer you seemed to realize that he wasn’t a bad looking man--blood and all. Your eyes scanned the different types of ink that he had strewn all over his body, intrigued in the different art styles that he had decorated himself in. God, you had hoped he didn’t notice you staring just a bit too much.

“Fuckin’ badass match, Hap,” Opie commented, taking a drink of his own beer bottle. “You look like shit.”

Happy had an almost wicked grin on his face, amused at the fact that he was in such a shape. “I’ve had worse, man. Shit will get cleaned up quick.”

You were almost startled by the sound of his voice. You didn’t know what to expect, really, but the tones that left his mouth definitely weren’t it. Honestly, it kind of added to the face-level fascination.

Opie nodded his head to you, directing Hap’s attention to you. Your eyes dart up from his tattoos, and you offer a smile that feigned your innocence. “Happy, this is [Y/N]. She just moved back to Charming, I’ve known her for years.”

“Hey,” you said simply, trying to keep your responses as brief as possible to hide the fact that your eyes were wandering just a bit before.

“Hey,” he greeted. “I’d shake your hand, but mine are kinda covered in blood.”

“Noted,” you replied quickly. “Great match, had me worried you were gonna kill each other.”

“If Clay didn’t call it, someone probably woulda gotten close,” he casually admitted. If speaking to anyone else, they’d probably take that as their first warning.

But here you were, completely ignoring that notion. “Can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“Situational,” he retorted, before looking down at himself. There was a bit of blood clinging to the skin of his chest and his face, which prompts him to speak again. “I gotta fuckin’ wash this off. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He trudges off, pushing through the crowd of patched members trying to pat him on the back in praise.

You look back to Opie, almost in disbelief, not even paying attention to the fact that he was drinking out of his beer bottle again when you opened your mouth. “What the fuck, man? You didn’t tell me your friend was cute! Now what am I gonna do?”

It was almost comical, the reaction that Opie immediately gave to you. With your mild infatuation with Happy out in the open, he had almost choked on the beer that he was in the process of swallowing. He lurched forward, coughing into the shirt that he wore underneath the kutte. You grimaced at the coughing fit, reaching over and patting his back as if to encourage him to let it all out.

Once he was finished, he sat back up again and wiped his mouth of any remnants of his fit. He began to grin, laughing just a bit once the spasms in his chest has settled down.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, man, I hate you,” you said jokingly, giving him a gentle shove; inevitably causing him to laugh even more.

“To answer your question, you can come with me to get a beer,” you heard an answer, causing your head to whip around once more in a start.

Your heart picked up it’s pace. Happy had come back, slightly leaned over to pick up something that was laying on one of the wooden tables you were sitting near. He had forgotten to pick up his rings, placing them on the palm of his hand calmly as he waited for you to respond.

“Oh... Shit, Happy, you sure about that?” you ask, nerves settling on your shoulders once it really sank in that he had heard your comment.

“Yeah. Why the fuck not?” he asked, standing straight once he had all of his rings in his hands. “Come on. Just gotta wait for me to finish up.”

So you stand, slowly, just in case Happy decided this was no longer a good idea. You wouldn’t be angry if he did, you kind of embarrassed yourself in front of him and Opie. However, when nothing of that notion left his mouth, you relaxed your shoulders.

He turns, connecting eyes with you once again. With a serious expression, one that he wore since coming back, he nods towards the door that led back into the bar and begins to walk towards it.

And you follow, with an approving nod from Opie, towards the black painted door frame that contained the comradery inside.

#happy lowman #happy lowman x reader #soa #sons of anarchy #samcro #happy lowman imagine #solari writes things

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