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xiaomomowrites · 3 years

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act IV

Genshin Impact | TartaLi/ZhongChi

Summary: It was the way Zhongli’s warm amber eyes suddenly were not as warm anymore. The way he looked at him with a piercing look, void of remorse, as he handed his gnosis over willingly to go on a whole tangent about how his “duties were done”. It was the way he turned and treated the precious traveler with the same amount of kindness and gentleness the Childe had received the previous night, with such ease; it was a look he thought was reserved only for him. It was the way he was able to turn back around, stare at Childe with an unreadable gaze, and walk away without so much of a goodbye.

Or, Zhongli and Childe finally have the conversation that was long overdue.

A/N: I’ve been playing genshin for roughly four or five months now, I can’t remember exactly when I started, but boy do I love it. No you don’t understand, I’m obsessed. But these two have been taking up room in my big brain, so I wanted to write for them. It’s been awhile since I wrote for pleasure so hopefully this is satisfactory :,) and tomorrow, I’m back to school, so I thought I’d enjoy my last day of freedom and post this today. Fun fact, I’m minoring in professional writing, so I’m hoping that it’ll improve my writing skills when I write for luxury, too. Anyway, this was a really fun piece for me to write and I hope you share the sentiment.

Also thank you guys for being so patient with our inactivity and just being such a chill audience to write for. Other social media platforms have become so...demanding haha. I appreciate y’all! Feel free to message us or talk to us about whatever :) -u.n.

Find this on AO3!

Spoiler alert: this fic does contain spoilers for the A New Star Approaches arc, so read at your own risk.

—

In Childe’s line of work, he is no stranger to betrayal.

Working as a Fatui Harbinger meant an unhealthy amount of fighting, betraying one person, deceiving another, and then on occasion, getting betrayed himself. It was all in a days’ work. Childe knew he would just have to roll out his neck and move on. He’s done it before, he can do it again. He would think that, after nineteen years of this grueling rinse and repeat, that he’d be able to tolerate a lot in the field. In fact, working with that wretched colleague of his, Scaramouche, and serving the Tsaritsa with a loyalty unmatched explicitly calls for the patience and tolerance of a saint.

Alas, Childe is the furthest thing from a saint. And still, Zhongli’s betrayal stung the most out of anyone else’s, the reason still unbeknownst to him. He tells himself that it’s because he had actually befriended the other man. That, unlike his other missions, he developed more of a friendship with Zhongli than he has with anyone else in the past. Not to mention how he really thought he’d find the gnosis, in all its golden glory, seated deep within the Exuvia, and not within his friend.

Which is why after he watches Zhongli hand over his precious gnosis to Signora of all people, Childe makes haste to return to the inn he had been staying at to furiously pack his things and leave first thing in the morning. Seeing Signora in Liyue so close to Zhongli had triggered a deep seated feeling of possessiveness over him and the city. Liyue was his territory, as far as he was concerned. It was assigned to him by the Tsaritsa and no one else. And yet, despite his unspoken possession over Liyue, its people turned against him and viewed him as the enemy. As if Childe didn’t already know that. As if he hadn’t already grown up with a layered villain complex, subconsciously looking for a fool with a hero complex to match him. Then entered Zhongli, making himself at home in Childe’s life, and he was immediately enamouring the Harbinger.

Screw Liyue.

Screw all their traditions, the stupid glaze lilies, the delicious cuisine, the obvious livelihood that fills the streets in stark contrast to his own icy hometown, screw all those goddamn unnecessary mountains, that fish market with that abhorrent smell he gradually got used to, and screw Rex Lapis. Screw Zhongli, that handsome bastard, for stringing him along like his plaything the entire time.

Childe knows, he gets it, that Zhongli simply did what he had to do because it was best for his people. And what other way for the oldest of the seven to go, if not for a grand finale? And yes, Childe admits, luring out Osial was a stupid move, but it certainly served its purpose for testing the strength of Liyue and its defenders.

Zhongli and Signora knew he would do something stupid and reckless as soon as he caught wind of the Exuvia serving as a decoy. They knew, and they played the game so well, that Childe really thought he was the mastermind puppeteering the whole show.

What a fool he was made out to be.

Childe aggressively shoves blazer after blazer into his travel duffel, angry, pathetic tears pooling at the corners of his eyes without his consent. He sniffs angrily and swipes at his cheek as soon as the first tear falls.

Fuck this, he’s not crying over a god, he still has some dignity.

But still. Pride aside, it hurt. And it wasn’t even necessarily the deceit that hurt the most. He’s dealt with that previously. It was… more personal. More of an internal struggle than an external issue. Childe truly hates those the most. At least he can shove his fist through any external problem, but he can’t exactly do the same with his feelings, or whatever they’re called.

It was the way Zhongli’s warm amber eyes suddenly were not as warm anymore. The way he looked at him with a piercing look, void of remorse, as he handed his gnosis over willingly to go on a whole spiel about how his “duties were done”. It was the way he turned and treated the precious traveler with the same amount of kindness and gentleness the Childe had received the previous night, with such ease; it was a look he thought was reserved only for him. It was the way he was able to turn back around, stare at Childe with an unreadable gaze, and walk away without so much of a goodbye.

The same eyes that gazed at him with such affection and kindness were suddenly replaced with the eyes of a soldier. And it was only then that Childe fully realized the force he was reckoning with. Zhongli was a withered god who lived too long for his own good. A powerful deity that held the ability to shake the ground with a look; he who had been humbled by time and his sharp edges eroded by the millions of faces that passed him. Simply put, Childe was just another one of those faces. And again, he understood. If he lived for six thousand years, he wouldn’t want to be alive after the first hundred.

It was the duality that dug the blade deeper into his already bleeding chest. He felt used.

“I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together, Childe,” Zhongli had said to him on a warm Liyuen night, “a friend of mine, a long time ago, told me that I was… bad at connecting with people. Emotionally stunted, is what she called me. And she is correct, as I have definitely struggled with making connections in the past. But with you… it’s different. It’s easy.

Childe is thankful for the discretion that night provides him; Zhongli would have easily spotted the blush spreading across his pale cheeks had it been daytime.

“So you had trouble making a couple friends, so what?” The ginger shrugs, “I wasn’t the best at making friends, either. My mom always said I was too aggressive. Apparently that’s not such an appealing trait, after all.”

Zhongli chuckles, a beautiful sound. “It was a bit deeper than that, I’m afraid. Understanding the complexity of another’s emotions was always difficult for me, whereas she… she was loved by everyone. Adored by the youngest of fawns to the oldest of horses. It came so naturally to her. I was the opposite. Not that everyone hated me, no, people just had a harder time getting close to me. Which is why, upon meeting you, I was shocked to find that we clicked so well. Befriending you was as easy as breathing air.”

Oh, Archons, help him.

“And,” Zhongli continues, as if he hadn’t already wrecked the man six ways to hell and back, “I must sincerely thank you for indulging me once again.” The deity glances down at the bag full of antique trinkets in his lap. Childe’s lips turn upward into one of his more genuine, rare smiles.

“What’s with you tonight?” Childe responds, and Zhongli looks at him questioningly , “I mean, you never had a problem with me spoiling you rotten before. You’ve never even acknowledged it. Why start now?”

Zhongli tears his gaze away from the Harbinger.

“And,” the ginger continues, “it almost sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

Zhongli smiles at him then. He wore a kind look on his face, eyes so impossibly warm that it reminded him of his grandmother’s pirozhki. Hot and steaming from the center, melting on his tongue, dissolving deliciously in his mouth and defrosting his entire body. His smile felt like it wrapped itself around his chest and squeezed the best way possible, fitting him back together in places Childe didn’t even realize he had broken.

“What makes you say that?”

Oh, Childe is pissed.

Fuck tomorrow morning, Childe is leaving tonight.

The memories of last night crash over him not unlike a tidal wave and suddenly, he’s drowning. Filled out the brim with a familiar rage burning through his chest and searing his finger tips, his legs, his fucking toes.

He stands abruptly when he realizes he’s been sitting and resumes his packing. It doesn’t take very long after that. A couple toiletries get shoved into the side pockets, his vision is hooked back onto his hip, and his mask is slid into its’ usual spot on his head. He looks at himself in the mirror on the way out and scowls at the way his hair looks more disheveled than usual. Red rims his dulled blue eyes, forcing him to accept that maybe he cried more than he’d like to admit. Whatever.

He swings the door open and-

“Childe,” lo and behold, Zhongli stands in his fucking doorway, “I’d like to talk to you, if that’s alright.” The man looks slightly disheveled. He’s a little out of breath, Childe notices, like he ran up those ridiculous flights of stairs to get to his room- which, by the way, he never disclosed that information with him.

The man in question huffs a laugh. “It’s not.”

He makes a move to brush past him, but is stopped by an unreasonably strong grip around his bicep.

“Tartaglia,” he pleads, “please.”

Childe snatches his arm back and spits, “don’t call me that.”

He retreats back into his room anyway, hearing Zhongli close the door behind him. He dumps the bag back onto his bed and curses himself for not leaving a millisecond earlier.

“You’re angry with me.” Zhongli starts, face as unreadable as ever.

“The sky is blue. Snezhnaya is cold. Are we still stating the obvious here?” He’s too angry to carefully choose his words. Too hurt to slip on his pleasant facade.

“Tartaglia,” he presses, and Childe really hates how his name sounds on his tongue, “I truly am sorry for the way things had to go. It was not in my intentions to… hurt you to the degree in which you feel. I simply was upholding the end of my contract and doing what was best for my people. I implore you to believe that making you feel used was not my main objective.“

Oh god, his apology sounds so robotic.

“So you’re aware that what you did was a little fucked up.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re aware that almost the entirety of Liyue places the blame on me.”

“Yes.”

Well, shit. “Good talk, Zhongli-xiansheng. If you’ll excuse me, I must begin my trip home.”

He stomps toward the door only to be stopped once again. Archons, if Childe had any motivation left, he most certainly would challenge him to a spar. The ginger huffs, and looks to the heavens in a silent plea for patience.

“Tartaglia, please, I’m not finished-“

“Yeah, well I am.” Their eyes lock. Blue meets gold in a hostile hold, refusing to break. “The second you handed your gnosis over, my business here was done. Whatever… relationship we had is done. You were my consultant and was a Harbinger here for business. A Harbinger that you obviously used for your disposal. So now that that’s over and done with, I really need to report to Tsaritsa, lest she have my head on a silver platter-“

“I spoke with Tsaritsa already.” Zhongli cuts in, his grip tightening around Childe’s wrist. “I asked her for more time with you.”

“You what.”

“Surely you are curious about the deal I struck with Tsaritsa. The contract to end all contracts, yes?” Childe’s wild look on his face eggs him to continue, “I struck a deal that granted you more time here in Liyue. With me.”

Childe is silent for a moment. The ex-Archon opens his mouth to continue.

“And I’d like to say I’ve known you long enough to know that you seek freedom. From what that may be, I do not know. But Tsaritsa has agreed to give you a choice, at the very least, a temporary one. An extended vacation or complete retirement is a choice to be made by you.” Zhongli finishes, looking to Tartaglia with hope.

“THAT is worth your fucking gnosis?!” Zhongli’s gnosis. The entire essence of his being. The very thing that makes him divine (thought it certainly isn’t the only thing that makes the man ethereal), was traded for him.

“Yes,” Zhongli replies with such ease it makes Childe’s head spin. “Among other things, of course.” An aggressive why is lodged in the back of Childe’s throat. Why me? A million questions swirl around his head, knocking him off balance. He would have swayed on his feet had Zhongli not been there to hold him upright.

“That’s insane. You’re insane. You…” Childe lets out a tired sigh, “I don’t understand you.” And he doesn’t. Because one minute he’s a cold hearted businessman, and the next he’s at his door, reduced to a mortal, begging him to stay. Granting him freedom. Really, what kind of fucked up game is this? Why didn’t anyone tell him he was a part of it?

Zhongli smiles. He smiles. “You remember our conversation from the night before, yes?”

Childe rolls his ever-blue eyes to the back of his head. “Remind me, Zhongli-sensei,”

“I said,” the deity starts, drawing both of Childe’s calloused hands between his own, “that I struggled to connect with others. Guizhong, the Goddess of Dust, was the one to bring to my attention my emotional constipation. And like I said, she was correct.”

Childe’s anger withers.

“Unfortunately I understand naught of the depth of your feelings of betrayal,” he continues, “but I do wish to understand how deeply humans feel. And in our time together, I’ve begun to understand through you. Despite your… complexities. And I wish to continue to learn. With you.” I wish to feel human is left unsaid, and laced between his words instead.

“What are you saying,” the Harbinger asks weakly.

“Take me with you.”

“What.”

“Take me with you. Wherever you go, I will follow, if you will allow it.”

Well duh, he’d allow it. Zhongli just had to work for it a little more. He can’t just waltz in here after breaking his heart and ruining his trust, demanding his friendship and companionship or whatever, after everything he was put through-

“Okay.”

Very nice ass to mouth filter, Ajax.

Zhongli’s eyes glow impossibly brighter, “Okay?”

Childe tugs his hands back to his side. “Yes, yes, fine. Whatever. But you can’t just. You can’t just use me again in the name of experimentation.”

“Tartaglia, I would never,” he assures him vehemently, “Of the seven, I was always the one most oblivious to emotions. You may ask Barbatos if you want. But I know that what I feel for you is real and I would not trade it for the world.”

Childe’s mind reels. Barbatos? Feelings?

“‘What you feel for me?’”

Zhongli cocks his head in confusion, as if his feelings were the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, yes. And you feel the same, no? It need not be said aloud.”

“It really doesn’t,” Childe affirms, “you can save me the embarrassment.”

“Wonderful,” Zhongli’s face brightens, and it’s only then that Childe is hit with the full realization that Zhongli is free. No longer is he tied to the city and burdened with the weight of the people. No longer does he have to associate himself with the likes of the Tsaritsa. Finally, after centuries and centuries, he is allowed the pleasure to smile so brightly despite feeling pained for finally leaving his people. He is Zhongli, and no longer Rex Lapis. Morax is long gone, too. The man before him is a man reborn, and Childe’s heart aches with happiness for him.

“Okay, well,” he clears his throat when he notices he’s been quiet for too long, “it’s been a long day and I’m tired. I think I’m just gonna take a shower and turn into bed and think about the rest tomorrow. Save it for future Childe, you know?”

He pads over to his hastily packed back and zips it back open, pulling out the toiletries he aggressively shoved in less than an hour ago. He digs his fingers into his neck and sighs at the release of tension. Summoning an angry ocean god took a lot more out of him than he anticipated.

“I agree,” Zhongli says, and begins to strip. “Personally I prefer the left side of the bed.”

Childe gawks at him.

“You-!” Truly an emotionally constipated god, indeed. He sighs and his shoulders droop, the fight leaving his body. “Fine. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be out in a bit.”

“I eagerly await your return,” Zhongli comments passively as he slips under the covers, a book he didn’t even know he was carrying tucked under his arm. Childe sighs for the nth time that night and turns to close the bathroom door behind him.

Future Childe certainly has a lot to deal with in the morning.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fan fiction #Tartaglia #Childe #zhongli #tartali #zhongchi #i love them so much it hurts #childe x zhongli #angst #character introspection #when this chapter ended i was incredibly emotional #i just want them to be happy

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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 4 years

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A Helping Hand

a/n: It’s been a while since I’ve posted a fic. Ive been working on my health considering how much stress I was under at my old job, but I’m doing much better now. Anyway, I hope you guys will enjoy this.

This fic is set before Zeta 7 and the reader were dating, and when they were still friends. Set during and before the beginning of The Fluffy Adventures With Your Boyfriend Doofus Rick series.

In this fic the reader only wants to help.

————-

It was almost time for you to eat again. At times it almost seemed to be more of a chore than a necessity to have a meal or to follow the routine of it, but hunger had led you here. And although there were many other things you might've preferred to do, this was what had to be done at the moment. Anticipatory feelings were lacking as you opened up the fridge; had it been conveniently full of delicious food which didn't need to be put together, and could simply be warmed up, that would have been great, but that was wishful thinking. Of course, you hadn't gone food shopping yet, so your old fridge was bare; eating out was an option, but you already did that for lunch and it didn't feel worth getting properly dressed for.

It had been while you were thinking of a creative way to use elbow pasta and ketchup when a song played through the tiny speakers of your phone; it was a phone call and you didn't have to hesitate to answer; it was from your favorite person; from Rick. You tried not to get too excited whenever he would call, but you couldn't help yourself; hearing his voice alone could make you happy. Pressing the green answer button on your touch screen, you smiled despite his inability to see it. “Hello Rick. How are you?”

“He-hello? I'm um - I'm fine. I hope this - is this a-a good time?”

His usual soft, cheerful voice seemed reluctant, almost shy tonight. You always thought he sounded sweeter over the phone, and it just made you want to tease him a little. Leaning against your kitchen counter, you could not help but laugh. “A good time? It is now. So, what’s up? Other than the ceiling. ”

He chuckled at that and you were relieved he couldn't see you at this moment, for the warmth in your cheeks would take a couple of minutes to recover from. “Gosh," he started, "I-I-I-I-I was just wondering if y-you would like to come over. It’s almost time for dinner and I um - I finished cooking, but…”

“You cooked too much again?”

“Y-yeah.”

"You're going to go through all your groceries that way."

"I-I couldn't help it." he confessed. "This recipe called f-for a certain amount of ingredients, but then a-again I guess it's f-for multiple servings."

You heard him sigh, and the thought of his frowning face came to mind. So, this was simply to invite you to dinner: it didn't matter what he might've called you for; the answer was almost always yes. As of late, Rick had been cooking more than one person could eat at a time; you always did think it was odd that he'd cook in abundance, especially since he lived alone, but he'd blame it on old habits. However, it made you wonder if he was looking for reasons not to eat alone; not that you minded. Interrupting the silence, you commented. “Well, I guess I'll have to help you make it disappear then."

"Huh?" he brightened, "Is that a-a yes?"

"What do you think it means? Yes, that's a yes. Goodness," you giggled. "I'll see you soon.”

You hung up and rushed back upstairs to change. What a silly man you thought. Such a silly…but adorable man, who had so much room for kindness and doubt.

——————

It was lovely to see him, and to listen to what he'd call gossip but was only the latest development of the pigeons which had made a nest in one of his fruit trees. "Y-you gotta see how they've made their nest. Boy, it's - it's fascinating how they used s-some old magazine clippings and hair ties."

Touching his hand lightly, you wondered. "Do you have any pics of them that you can show me?"

With raised brow, he started. “Sh-sh-show you?"

"Yeah," You leaned forward a little, and smiled. "I want to see what you've been telling me about."

Without hesitation, he searched his labcoat pockets and retrieved his phone; scrolling through his gallery until he came across said pictures. "I-I-I-I took these a couple of - of days ago."

Your fingers lightly brushed his palm as you grabbed his phone to glance through the pictures; he had a good eye for angles and lighting, and from the looks of it, the pigeons seemed to be relaxed so he might've fed them first; how nice. "They're so cute. I can’t get over how fluffy they look."

Replacing the phone into his palm, he visibly tensed; your fingers had brushed his palm again. Now, the urge to allow your hand to linger there was strong and the thought of lacing your fingers with his had been tempting, but you did neither. You quickly withdrew, with a new sense of embarrassment over such thoughts. He wouldn't understand how you felt, because he didn't see you that way.

“How do y-y-you like them?”

Hiding behind your water glass, you answered. “Way more than I thought I would.”

_________

Rick was still eating, but not with the same vigor from earlier. You wondered if you had insulted him or something; he had been avoiding direct eye contact for a while. You were no reader of minds, so there was no telling of the feelings inside; of those senses which couldn't be touched. "Rick, is something wrong? Have I….. have I overstayed my welcome and you don't know how to tell me? Is...is that why you won't look at me?"

"N-no, that's not it."

"Then, did I hurt your feelings? I hope not."

He sagged a little in his seat, and he didn't answer, but he shook his head no. You thought back to earlier, and how you had looked at the pictures he took and called them cute, but other than that, you didn't say anything problematic. Was it because you asked? Maybe it wasn't.

It was easy to hurt his feelings being as sensitive as he was, and although it might've been against your better judgment, you reached out and touched the back of his hand. "Please talk to me. I don't know what I did, but I'm so sorry. I don't want you to be upset at me."

With widened eyes, he's gazed at your hand, then back towards you. "No, that’s not th-the problem."

"Then why are you so quiet all of a sudden? It isn't like you."

"It's because I…I'm s-s-sorry I talk so much."

"What do you mean? Where is this coming from?"

"It appeared as though y-you were getting tired of all my talking.” He started in an almost accusatory manner but must've realized how it sounded and continued with more calmness. “Gee, I-I didn't want to sour the evening, s-s-so I thought I should just sh-shut up."

"But I don't want you to do that. I love all your talking."

"R-really?"

His surprise at this pained you. How could he think that you'd tire of it and him? Maybe when you were thinking, he mistook it as disinterest. How could you show him you cared? You did what only seemed natural and squeezed his hand but he stiffened.

You realized that when he didn't answer right away, that the napkin he had been using had been dropped and was now on the floor; a faint blush dusting his cheeks and the tops of his ears. You didn't think that it'd be such a big deal to randomly touch him, but you thought it was sweet that he'd get flustered like that; if he wasn't so shy at times, you'd think there was more to it; if only there was. "It's fun hearing you talk.” You confessed. “I feel as though I have so much I can learn from you. So feel free to talk to me."

The relief that washed over him was palpable and he smiled warmly at this. It made your heart swell, and you withdrew your hand although it appeared that he wouldn't have minded. Still, you didn't want to upset him again with misunderstandings. "Y-you're a really nice person. It's - I'm glad t-to know someone like you."

You were glad too.

____________

"Anyway, it's interesting how they can take one man's trash and turn it into a home, but what could they do if given better materials?"

Taking a drink of water, he managed to recover a little. "I-I bet they could make a-a work of art if given the right materials. Wh-why do you ask?"

"I just wanted to know what you were thinking in that brain of yours. Must be interesting, especially with all the things you can come up with."

Yes, you did find the topic of pigeons fascinating but not as much as you found that toothy grin of his inviting. Having finished eating, you listened happily to his delightful little tales and knowings; watching as he'd start eating but then forget his food when he was at the peak of his explanation. He always did seem more cheerful when you were over and had so much to tell you when you were here, but you attributed that to the fact that he didn't have many friends. Though, you didn't mind his need for conversation; rather you enjoyed how random and easy it was to talk with him; his sweetness enriched your soul whenever he was especially happy and attentive in conversation. Handing him a new napkin, you teased. "I'm surprised you haven't made a mini-mansion type birdhouse for them out of whatever spare wood you have in the garage. Unless you already have. I bet it'd be all tricked out with a little warm birdbath and a small mirror so they can check themselves out, fluff their feathers and such."

"Gosh," he sighed, waving his fork a little as he ruminated on his thoughts before the beginnings of a boyish smile appeared on his lips. "did I already tell y-you about that?"

"No," you giggled; happy that your assumptions weren't farfetched. "but I took a wild guess."

He was that kind of guy after all; soft-hearted and fond of the living things around him; it was one of the many qualities that endeared him to you. You wished you could've taken part in its construction. "If you had told me sooner," you mentioned. "I would have helped. I could've helped painting it or something."

"Gosh, I thought y-you had other things to do so I…it wasn't a-a big deal. It was simply an um - an old man's hobby."

"It's just….it sounded like fun. I know it might not mean much saying this, but I would've enjoyed spending that time with you. Working side by side and discussing little details about it. I would…. You see, I love spending time with you."

It was only after you had said all that, in which you realized how easy it would've been to misconstrued. Sitting there, you resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands; wondering what was with you these days. Since when was it okay to get bold and be frank like that? Every so often, when you did say such things, you saw, for fractions of moments, confusion and more….as though he ought to say something; there were no tears and there never was, but you thought he seemed hurt; glassy-eyed and lost. Studying you, he opened his mouth to speak but closed it again; preferring to examine his napkin and tableware then to continue that thought.

He did this often, especially when you surprised him; for better or worse. Perhaps he didn't want to appear foolish, but whatever he could've said was interrupted by your sudden movement. You reached over for his empty dish and went over to the sink to begin on the dishes. However, he jumped up and insisted that you needn't help to clean, snapping out of whatever mood which might've overcome him a moment ago. You thought it was the least you could do; if you had been a decent cook you would've offered a meal in return, but it wasn't likely that it was going to happen. "Rick, you cooked so I might as well help you clean."

"Gosh, y-you don't have to do that. I was the one that invited you over. As th-the host, it's my responsibility."

"That may be true," you reasoned, feeling responsible for him in some way. "but you're always doing stuff for me, so I thought I'd stay and help for a bit."

"Huh? Wh-what?"

"Yeah. I mean what good are friends if you can't put them to work every so often? Besides," you quieted a bit as you scrubbed away at the baking pan. "I want to help you."

It's not like you were using this as an excuse to stay a little longer now. Right? Well, just a little. It was still early and you didn't want to go home yet. Grabbing a kitchen towel, he chuckled lightly. "Well, I-I guess I'll help y-you dry."

Standing beside you, his warmth radiated off him, and from this close, you could smell spices, a hint of vanilla, and motor oil? Perhaps it was the scent of his house, but it was comforting. Good thing you had the excuse of concentrating on scrubbing because otherwise, it would've been obvious on how affected you were by him.

_______

After you finished wiping down the counters, you checked the time and thought you'd be better off heading on home. Grabbing your keys you were ready to say goodbye, but he followed you to the door. "Are y-y-you going?"

Without facing him, you nodded. "I am."

"Then I'll walk y-you home."

"Okay."

In the past, you had told him that it wasn't necessary since you lived so close, but you came to enjoy those small moments of kindness; of his sincere care for your well-being that made the world a slightly easier place to live. The walk didn't take long since you only lived a few doors down, but it was lovely nonetheless. "Thank you for the food. It was really good."

Scratching the back of his neck, he answered. "I-I hoped you would. I um - I enjoyed y-your company."

"Me too."

You played with your keys a little, wondering why you should be so nervous. It's not like you two were dating; it's not like he'd even consider the possibility, but it was moments like this that made you hope and contemplate if you should just tell him. It was always on tip of your tongue; the words which begged to be said, but you weren't feeling brave yet. You needed more time; just enough to be ready for a change. There was no rush, but logic and feelings didn't coincide. "Rick," you started, unsure of what you were doing. "can I um….can I ask you something?"

"Y-yes! Of c-course. What's on y-your mind?"

Think of something you thought. "You'd tell me if you needed help, wouldn't you? I'm not talking about what we did this evening, but stuff that….like if you need help with your chores or something. I know you get busy sometimes and I'd hate it if you weren't all caught up on the latest news about your pigeons or if there were dishes that needed washing."

"Gosh, I-I thought I was doing f-fine with all that," he confessed. "but it - I'll be sure t-to let you know."

"Good, that's...that's good because I'm always happy to help you."

Gathering whatever foolishness which laid at the pit of your stomach and daydreams, you rested a hand on his arm and smiled up at him. "Rick, I'd do almost about anything for you….that is…if that's….. that is what friends are for, right? At least that's what I think."

Though, was that what you thought? Wasn't this just a roundabout way of saying you wanted to be around him more? Oh, if only he could understand. You knew it wasn't right to mislead him, but he never reacted the way you thought he should.

Glancing down at where your hand still laid, a wistful, almost sad quality passed across his stormy eyes before continuing. "Boy, th-that's thoughtful," he began, though as easily as a summer sky could change so did his words. "but I-I wouldn't want t-to bother you or take up your time with anything like that."

"That's the thing, it wouldn't be a bother at all."

This is where you thought you'd messed up, but you couldn't seem to keep quiet when he was involved. It felt as though you were trying to monopolize your way into spending more time with him; as though you were desperate to get him to be around you. "I mean, as a writer, I can just do my job whenever. So, you don't have to hesitate."

That familiar flit of sadness passed over his eyes again and you thought that maybe he pitied you because all you had in the world was yourself and a house you simply inherited. You didn't want to tell him you were lonely, because if you did, you didn't want him to think that it was the only reason you spent time with him; it'd break your heart if you hurt this sensitive creature, but you couldn't help yourself; it was your selfishness talking. True, you were making this more complicated than it had to be, but you didn't know how to fix that yet. "I just…I don't mind being around you more and hanging out. That's all."

Although, it might've not been as complicated after all for it didn't take much for him to lift up your moods. All he had to do was smile, and to pull you into his arms for a big hug. Did he know?

"Rick?"

Squeezing you a fraction tighter, he confessed. "Gee, it's - I-I appreciate your worrying a-about me," he started, his soft, warm voice brushing past your ear and giving you goosebumps. "but I can't - can't help but wonder why y-you look as though you could use a friend right now. Are you al-alright? Did y-you want t-t-to talk about it?"

Your fingers dug into the worn fabric of his sweater and you wanted to cry because he was so devastatingly kind, and you knew in that one moment it didn't matter how long you held on to him; he'd let you hold him for as long as you needed because he was great at empathizing. Little did he know it unraveled your heart every time. "You're right Rick, I do need a friend. I…I need...."

You; the word which refused to leave your mouth. His assumption filled in the blank. "You probably miss your dad on nights like this huh? It's hard t-to go home to an empty house."

That was partly true. "Mhm."

Rubbing your back, he sighed. "Th-there there. Everything is going t-t-to be alright."

Is it? Would it be alright? No, he didn't know or if he did, he ignored it. Though, like this, you could almost believe there was more to this relationship than… then being good friends.

With your face hidden in the softness of his sweater, held so sure and firm, with such strength that seemed unnatural for one his age, he was as you thought of him; as a man you held in the highest regard, beyond reason or doubt that you could love if…if it was appropriate. Why couldn't he stay that friend that you needed and why did you wish for more than this? Was this to be your punishment? To adore someone who made you happy but couldn't be more than society should allow?

"Will I be alright?" you confessed more to yourself than to him.

Squeezing you a fraction tighter, you felt him nod. "Y-you're young, so y-you will be."

That's right, you were young; too young for him. While you had been ready to beat yourself up for it, he continued in a voice that was above a whisper. "I'd like t-t-to help you if I can but only if y-you want me to. Is that o-okay? Do you want me t-to?"

You wanted so much, but more than anything you wanted what he was willing to give. Rubbing his back in a similar, soothing motion, you softened. "Please do."

Another sigh escaped him, but he continued to rub your back; the warmth of his hands and sounds of his breathing making you a little sleepy. You hadn't been checking the time, but you were sure that it had been a while. What you hadn't been sure of was what the neighbors were going to think if they saw you two in such a warm embrace at this time of the evening or anytime for that matter; you didn't care because this felt right. It was as though you could melt into him with how comforting it was. Who knows how long you must've held onto him, but eventually you heard him say softly, albeit oddly disappointed. "It's getting late and I-I should let you go. It's…and you…but y-you can always call me if you - if you can't sleep."

Glancing up at him, you wondered why it ever had to end. However, with reluctance, you pulled away, but only enough so that you could hold him a little longer. "You're right. I…I should go to bed. Thank you for the lovely evening, my wonderful… my friend."

And with that, you released your hold on him. However, if you hadn't known any better, the look he gave you was softer than his usual ones. Was…no…it must've been nothing. A trick of the dim porch light. Half hidden by the dark, he confessed. "Thank you f-for being my - for being my friend. It makes me happy t-to have you around. I'll um - I'll be sure t-to make myself more available to you if you need me."

Your heart ached with half affection, half guilt. You really were asking for so much you didn't deserve. "Oh Rick, I'd appreciate that."

For a quick second, you saw him stretch out his hand but just as quickly let it fall back to his side. Then, he stepped back and reminded you. "Don't forget t-to lock the door."

"I won't."

You opened your front door, and smiled up at him from your doorway, trying to channel all that you felt in a single word; knowing that was all you could do for now. "Goodnight."

Softening, he turned away quickly, mostly hidden in the darkness, and waved. "D-don't let th-the bed bugs bite."

Closing the door behind you, you barely made it to the couch before you began to cry. What were you thinking? Playing around with a lonely man's feelings and possibly confusing him. Could you ever get over him? Would your heart let you?

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you thought back to only minutes ago when you were secure in his arms, and you felt as though you belonged to him. And how your blouse smelled like him now or that his care for you was almost enough. Though, were his actions like that of a parent? You could only wonder. Though, if you couldn't get over him, couldn't you help change his mind?

When you had calmed a little and had time to change and get a drink of water, you found that you still weren't sleepy. It was late but before you could give it much forethought, you dialed his number and he picked up right away. "C-can't sleep?"

"Yeah."

"Me either. I um - I was thinking a-about what you said about th-the birdhouse. While it is built, and I'd painted it, I would be happy t-t-to have you over when you're available and help me make it pretty. Gosh, it's - it's only if you want to."

"That would be lovely. Too bad it's late because I would've come over now if you'd asked."

"Y-you see, that wouldn't um - tomorrow would be better."

"What's the matter? A little sleepover never hurt anybody." You teased.

Right away you heard a clatter and then a crack. Did he drop his phone?

"Rick? Are you okay?"

"Yes, I-I-I-I just - my phone had fallen."

"I see. Sorry for the bad joke."

“It's o-okay. Just surprised me is -is all.”

A chair scraped the floor, and you heard the click of either a pen or a small appliance. "I-I don't think I'll be able to sleep t-tonight but I won't keep you up with m-my thoughts. It'd get kind of boring for you."

"I mean, I am tired, but I don't mind listening to you for a while. Could you just talk? It can be about anything."

He sighed into the phone, and you heard paper. Perhaps he was flipping through a book. “I-I was thinking of reading, but my eyes are a-a bit tired.”

“When you do read, do you only read nonfiction?”

“I-I like to read a little bit of everything.”

“You do? Well, how convenient. I happen to have a bunch of books and if you'd ever like to borrow any of them, you're free to do so.”

“Boy, I'll have to take a-a look the next time I’m over. Hey, um - I do have a-a story you might enjoy. It has t-t-to do with how I came to have jasmine in my backyard. Would you like t-to hear it?”

Grabbing a pillow, you nodded. “Yes, I really would. Though, tell it slowly so that I don't miss a thing.”

With a chuckle, he began to explain, and you placed the phone beside you; careful as to not drop it as his sing-song voice twisted and curled about you in your lonely room.

Fin

#doofus rick #doofus rick x reader #rick sanchez x reader #j19z7 #j-19-zeta-7 #rnm #rick x reader #rick and morty #rick j19zeta7 #j19zeta7 #rick and Marty fanfic #rick j19z7 #ram fanfic #my fanfic #my works #my writing #rnm fanfiction

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romanovanoff · 3 years

Text

bio says black widow stories but i do like to dabble with other characters too. ill have a full list on another post.

YOU & I

A Bellatrix & Tom Riddle story

part one

characters:

bellatrix black

tom riddle

narcissa black

andromeda black

druella black

rodolphus lestrange

rabastan lestrange

(tba)

relationships:

bella/tom

narcissa/lucius

andromeda/ted

(tba)

summary: tom is the new kid in school and is already popular amongst his peers. his goal is to have bellatrix black by his side when he conquers the wizarding world, and his only problem? bella is already in an arranged marriage and also wants nothing to do with him.

disclaimer: i have never read the books, and ive seen all the movies only like twice. im not a crazy fanatic potterhead, i just have an unhealthy obsession for bellatrix/helena bonham carter 😌. so apologies in advance if i make any mistakes, regarding whats canon in the harry potter universe and so on. the little things, the big things, my bad. i hope the fact that its mostly au makes up for what it lacks in accuracy.

word count: 3497

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"I overheard earlier today that Hogwarts received a new student," Druella spoke as she took a sip of tea, delicately patting a napkin across her lips before gazing over at her three daughters. Bellatrix, who didn't seem interested at all in the conversation, Andromeda, who was busy scribbling something in her diary, and little Narcissa who was following along to her mother's words.

"Yes, it's true," The blonde girl, thirteen years old, responded. "I thought it strange at first but apparently he and his family were living somewhere in Europe. Tom Riddle, I think his name is. He'd been taught at home and his father had gotten a job at the ministry so they transferred him to Hogwarts."

Ever the gossip, it didn't surprise Bellatrix in the slightest that Cissy knew so much about the new student. She rolled her eyes, wondering why the hell they were even discussing this in the first place. It was just a new student, who cares? She voiced this several times out loud but had received the usual disapproving glances from the two blondes. It creeped the raven-haired witch sometimes at how much Cissy resembled their mother.

Letting out a sigh Bella swirled her spoon around in her teacup, not finding the appetite to drink nor eat the sweets that accompanied her tea. The three of them were currently in Rosa Lee's teashop, a place they often went to every other week, with permission to leave the school of course- though she didn’t ask for it most times. Usually Bellatrix would devour the treats but today she was feeling too anxious to do anything but. At seventeen years old she had stretched out her days of freedom and was now forced into a marriage that should have taken place two years ago.

The thought of marriage wasn't all that bad, if she was being honest. Sometimes when her thoughts and actions weren't clouded with hate and rage she'd daydream a not so near future of a perfect wedding. A wedding where she would be marrying someone she truly loved and could cherish, to honor their vows to the fullest extent. So the wedding itself wasn't the problem, it was who she was supposed to be wed to that was. Her long time childhood friend, Rodolphus Lestrange. And one of the very few in the sacred 28 that wasn't related to the Blacks by blood. At least that she was aware of… The thought still made her cringe, even after checking every family tapestry available and an exhausting amount of research.

Everyone wanted her to be happy about the fact she'd get to marry someone she's known for years, something most pure-bloods didn't have the honor of having, but it was the fact she knew him so well that she hated. He was like a brother to her, albeit at times an annoying and even sexist brother. He wasn't husband material and she was most certainly not wife material for him. And add to the fact that they'd be pressured to have children immediately after becoming man and wife, the thought of having sex with him made her want to gag. You'd think they'd notice that such a practice was incredibly outdated. She hated to wonder if the marriage had taken place two years ago, would they really pressure two 15 year olds to consumate? Fuck this life.

She felt like the world and everyone in it was against her. All her complaints had been shot down, leaving her inwardly seething with rage before being left totally subdued. Oh, how she hated being so… powerless, left without a voice, without a right to do what she wanted and to do so as she pleased, the ever present shadow looming over her shoulder that was the society and family she was born into.

Letting out a sigh she looked over at Andromeda who was still scribbling in that damn book. Probably instant messaging her friends, something Bellatrix didn't have the luxury of having. At least genuine ones anyway. The ones she had in school were merely vultures following around, waiting for the opportunity to eat away at the scraps she bared. They didn't hesitate to use her to their advantage, trying to play her like a fool. Idiots, they should've known she was the brightest witch of her age for a reason. And no one took advantage of Bellatrix Black.

Despite still being superior she continued feeling a bitter pang in her heart, knowing no one truly cared for her there. Well, maybe except for her sisters, Rodolphus and his brother that is.

Catching her eyes on what she was doing Andromeda quickly closed her book and narrowed her eyes at her eldest sister. But then a familiar smirk curled the girls lips and Bellatrix knew what was going to happen before her sister could even utter a word. She knew that smirk anywhere. Bella herself wore that smirk on several occasions, actually even taught it to her dear sister! If only mother knew how truly naughty Andy was, maybe then the heat wouldn't fall upon Bella so heavily when she did something that displeased her.

"Mother," Andromeda chimed in, interrupting Cissy's conversation with the older woman. "Bellatrix is right. Why not talk about something else."

"Andy…" The dark haired witch warned, fingers clenched around her spoon.

"Like… Bella's wedding perhaps? Surely there are plenty of plans to discuss. Some of which I'm sure my dear sister here is needed for?" The brunette suggested 'innocently', smiling back at Bellatrix before looking at her mother.

Druella blinked once, then twice before she brightened up. Damnit, Andy, Bella thought to herself angrily, glaring daggers at her younger sister. "You're right! We only have a short few weeks before the big day and still so much to do. How about we end this little meal early and say we go to one of the boutiques nearby, check up on your wedding dress," Druella said as she rose from her seat.

And so that's what they did. They went to the boutique, checked the incredibly old fashioned dress, with what looked like the most painfully looking corset yet stitched into the fabric. After, they stopped by a few other shops to double check things were in order for the wedding before finally apparating home. The entire time Bellatrix had trudged along reluctantly behind her sisters and mother, offering a few weak comments and opinions for this thing and that when asked of her.

She was glad to finally be back home, finding relief in the knowledge that tomorrow morning she'd be returning back to Hogwarts, having spent the weekend with her family. On one hand she was glad she managed to extend the wedding date, convincing her parents that it might be wise that she finish her last year and take her N.E.W.T.s before focusing on 'wifely duties'. Yes, that was how she phrased it. And yes, they'd taken the bait, obviously wanting their daughter to focus on her marriage once out of school, and not caring about the intelligence hidden behind her usual mask of indifference.

She made short work separating from her family's side to make her way upstairs to her room. And then made even shorter work getting ready for bed. No one ever bothered her when she was up the stairs and hidden away. It was known to all that Bellatrix Black inherited the 'mad' gene in the family, more prone to violent outbursts and destructive tantrums. Because of this her room wasn't the prettiest, constantly being repaired and sparse so there were less objects to break. The room was also constantly being placed under a silencing charm, quieting her screams so the rest of the household could sleep peacefully. How thoughtful of them, she thought to herself bitterly.

The sun was already down by the time she emerged from the bathroom, all scrubbed up and her hair wet, the many strands in ringlets falling down her back. With her wand, she casted a quick-drying spell to both her body and hair, not bothering with any sleeping robes as she climbed into bed. Once in she blew out the candles before getting comfortable under the covers. Usually, it would be too early to go to sleep, and she'd have at least a glass or two of firewhiskey to help her doze off but she felt the whole unexpected wedding planning this afternoon was enough to do her in. Not only that but she did need to wake up early to catch the train back to Hogwarts tomorrow. So without much further thought she closed her heavy eyes and fell asleep, hoping things could be much easier in the future.

THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS

"Tom Riddle is in our class."

"I heard Tom's family is incredibly wealthy and direct descendants to Salazar Slytherin."

"It's true! I overheard him talking to snakes! Snakes!"

The whispers and excited talk continued on and on the moment Bellatrix stepped onto the Hogwarts express. If she thought Cissy talking to mother about this ‘nobody’ annoyed her, she was absolutely wrong. Hearing everyone around her discuss this Riddle boy absolutely drenched her high spirits and put her in one of her dark moods.

No one needed to look twice to know to stay away from the young witch. If dark glaring eyes didn't strike fear into her peers, then the dark energy and aura surrounding her would.

Not wanting to hear the gossip anymore Bella separated from her 'friends' and found a seating compartment for herself, only able to hold two people, but thankfully no one dared claim the other spot. She sat close to the window, forehead touching the glass, and seeming to cool her ever bubbling irritation. Trees and rolling hills passed by in a blur but she wasn't particularly watching, eyes slightly glazed over as she got lost in thought.

So lost in thought she almost didn't notice the sounds of her compartment door being slid open and a person taking a seat across from her. Blinking slowly she looked over to the 'intruder' as the door slid closed once more, leaving the two individuals with some privacy she didn't necessarily want.

The person in front of her was a young man. Probably around her age with dark brown hair, curling neatly at the front. He had bright emerald eyes, warm but she got the hint of something darker underneath, something dangerous hidden beneath the surface and ready to strike unsuspecting prey. Despite that though everything else about him seemed pretty bland. Pale skin- but not as pale as hers-, average build, and put together uniform.

"Who're you?" She found herself asking, swallowing the automatic 'get out' she was originally planning on saying. Given the fact she hasn't seen him before in this school year or any year before that, she was already dreading the answer. She wasn't even sure why she disliked him so much already. Maybe it was the fact he's barely even started school here and yet everyone was already drooling over him. Maybe it was the fact he was well known for things the student body hasn't even had proof of, things he was already praised for. And on her side of things she was well known for her infamous anger and her upcoming marriage to Rodolphus. That or her status of being the firstborn Black daughter. Otherwise known as the current heir of the Black family. Well. That was until her idiot cousin, Sirius was old enough to steal the mantle from her.

So when he said, "Tom. Tom Riddle," She really couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. Cause of course the person she had no care for was sat in, of all seats, the one in front of her. "Does that name offend you?" He then asked, wearing the same damn smirk he wore the moment she took in his appearance just seconds earlier.

"No," She said in a bored drawl, eyes once again gazing out the window as her head rested against the glass. "Unlike every other idiot out there, I care not for who you are. You're just another ordinary student attending Hogwarts. Nothing special about that," She told him, her tone consistent in telling him of how much she didn't care.

He was quiet for some time. Not too long, but enough to give her pause and wonder if she'd wandered too deep in thought and he'd slipped away. Only a glance his way revealed that, no, he was still here. "I agree," He finally spoke again. "There's nothing special about me at all. And I'm starting to despise the fact people are so interested in me. Took a look at the school Friday and suddenly everyone thinks so highly of me just because it was a private tour by the headmaster himself," He huffed.

It was clear to Bellatrix by the way he spoke, by the way he talked that he was excellent at charming people, manipulating them even if you would use the darker term. Again, she was many things but an idiot was not one of them and she wasn't falling for his 'charms' or tactics any time soon.

"Oh, poor you," She said in a mocking voice, jutting out her bottom lip as she faced him fully. "New kid in school has everyone fawning over him. Such a terrible life you must live, knowing you have everyone in the palm of your hands with just a smile." She finished the sentence off with said smile before turning it into a sneer.

"I won't repeat myself again. I care not for who you are, and I don't wish to know you or anything about you. So if you're going to sit here, then it better be in silence, or so help me merlin I will curse you. Laws be damned," She hissed. Hopefully for the last time she turned away again, feeling her mood lighten just slightly at her first threat of the day.

Usually, other students would run away by now, flee the vicinity in which she occupied, but Tom just sat there, in shock, or because he actually listened to her words. Finding herself curious about which option she chanced another glance but was surprised to see him wearing that annoying little smirk instead. "Cute," He told her, enjoying the way her eyes widened just slightly before darkening with anger. "That threat might work on others but it won't with me."

Her magic was absolutely crackling around her, like static in the air just before an oncoming storm. She was soon to make good on her threat. "Based on your looks, in how you speak, and the way I saw you walk earlier, looking down at everyone as if they were beneath you. I would safely assume you are a… Black. Bellatrix Black? Considering you look to be in the same year as me," He continued, assuming everything correctly. She didn't need to know though that he'd actually done his research prior to moving here, and that he had asked around earlier. "I don't expect you to get along with me from the start, but you will see me around often. I'll personally make sure of that. Cause I like you," He said with a shrug, smirk still in place.

Bold. Oh, so very bold and before Bellatrix could even utter a single word or even grab and raise her wand for that matter, he was already out the door. The space in front of her was once again vacant and she stared at the now unoccupied seat as the door slid closed.

LATER THAT DAY

It was almost impossible for the raven haired witch to avoid hearing or seeing Tom. It was as if everywhere she turned, someone was talking about him or he himself was staring at her from a distance. Usually she would never admit such a thing, her pride too strong, but it greatly unnerved her. Who the hell did he think he was? Claiming he would see her more often because he liked her? “Doesn’t even know me,” She scoffed to herself, annoyed as she continued on the familiar path to her dormitory.

Bellatrix was a slytherin through and through, like every other Black family member before her. There had been no question about it. Well, maybe after. She questioned it alot. The houses, the characteristics and traits. All of it. And once she's put herself in a more outside perspective about it she really couldn't help but laugh at the whole student body, almost all of them adapting and practically absorbing their houses certain traits into their own personality.

Anyway, she was a slytherin, but she couldn't help but wonder if she'd changed her mindset that first day, if her family hadn't been so adamant on which house she went to, would she have been chosen for hufflepuff, perhaps? Maybe gryffindor? Ew, no. Possibly ravenclaw. These thoughts raced past in her mind as she made her way down into the dungeons. There was a little of her in each, she supposed.

"Drommie, Cissy," Bellatrix greeted once she made it into the girls dorm, having already said the password and walked through the shared sitting room. All three Black sisters shared the same room, something Bellatrix and her mother both insisted and agreed upon to the headmaster when first starting school here. It was a protective thing. Bella knew that her sisters weren't like her, lacking in gut and courage. She was sure Andromeda could take care of herself, at times, but if worse came to worse she was more likely to break under pressure and need rescuing from her bigger sister. And little Narcissa, the spoiled brat she was, didn't have a single backbone in her body, choosing instead to flee or hide behind one's robes. Despite those certain qualities though Bellatrix still loved her sisters dearly and simply made it a priority to keep them safe, consequences to herself be damned.

Sure… maybe it was Bella's fault for them needing protection, having spent most of her years reigning terror down upon those who even glance at her, therefore her peers not liking her and taking it out on her sisters instead. But… hey! They looked at her funny, they deserved it!

"Bella why didn't you sit with us on the train," Narcissa asked, looking at her older sister as she sat on her bed.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and walked past, towards her own bed furthest in the room and by the window. "As if I'd sit and listen to you two and your friends gossiping about the 'new boy'," She said back.

Andromeda turned to her with a quirked brow. "I don't know, by the looks of it you sat just fine with the 'new boy' before you ran him away."

Bellatrix was only able to scoff as a response before Narcissa quickly interrupted, hopping over towards Bellatrix. "You got to talk to Tom Riddle?" She asked excitedly. "How was he like? Was he charming? Did he show you parseltongue?"

"Cissy, please, calm down. He was none of those things. He was very bland… and cocky, and arrogant," Bella responded, the end getting heated with annoyance. Not towards her sister of course.

"Sounds like someone I know," Andromeda spoke up with a pointed look Bella's way.

"Shut up," The dark haired witch shot back. Because of course she couldn't deny it. She was those things sometimes… all the time. "Whatever. Let’s go. It's time for lunch anyway."

(A/N: lets be honest idk how classes work at hogwarts so lets say bellatrix and sis’s meet up w mother on the reggy, with permission or without, and this particular weekend was a break for all students to either visit their fam or relax in their dorms/explore school grounds. today (mon) is a day for them to get readjusted and classes start up again the following day. anyway continue)

All the way to the great hall Bellatrix's sisters continued teasing her about Tom. Thankfully she took the teasing easily, shoving her sisters good naturedly and joking along. That was until they reached the great hall. She didn't think her sisters noticed but as they walked past others to get to their table Bellatrix could feel a strong force on her, like something digging into the back of her head. She scanned her eyes around the room once, trying to catch the culprit of whatever was happening but all she could see were other students eating merrily, not a clue to her predicament. Thankfully by the time she'd sat down the force had vanished and she could focus back on her sisters.

Tom stood just outside the doors of the great hall, panting and trying to catch his breath. Never had he been rejected so quickly from someone's mind, not even close to breaching it in fact. Her magic was strong, untampered and just waiting to be fully unleashed just beneath the surface. A magic enough to rival his own. She may think she was strong now but oh just wait until he had her with him, by his side. Just wait until he showed her what she's truly capable of.

With these thoughts in mind he swiftly walked away from the great hall entrance, on his way back to his dorm.

#harry potter #bellatrix lestrange #bellatrix #bellatrix black #bellatrix x voldemort #bellatrix x tom riddle #helena bonham carter #wizarding world #hogwarts #writing #writer #story #fanfiction #fiction #fictional #stories

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barnesandrogersfanfics · 4 years

Text

Rose Coloured Glasses - Part 2

Summary: Starting a 'friends with benefits' relationship with Frank is something new and exciting.... even if your boss Andy has warned you against getting involved with the towns bad boy. But has your boss got other reasons for the warning.... either way you cant seem to stay away from Frank.

When Andy's son is suddenly prime suspect in a murder and his marriage is struggling he turns to you for comfort... or at least his trying to.

A/N- Warning! Poorly written smut happens! 🙈 💕

After calling the tow company and arranging for them to collect my car and take it to their repair shop, i finally got stuck into work. Around lunch time the phone rang interrupting my archiving of Andy's last case.

"Good Afternoon, Andrew Barbers office" i answered as Andy had instructed me on the first day.

"Hey, is this Y/N?"

"It is, who's this?"

"Its Frank" he replied with a chuckle that was way sexier than it should've been!

"Oh... hi, why are you calling Frank? Do you need some legal advise?" I asked in a teasing tone.

"Ha! No actually im good"

"Then why are you calling the assistant DA's office in the middle of the afternoon?"

"Well it occurred to me that i didn't get your number this morning"

"No you didn't"

"Well im gonna need it so we can arrange that drink you owe me"

"Oh i see" i smiled shaking my head "nice play"

"Thank you! So can i have your number?"

I looked up and saw Andy collecting his jacket and heading my way.

"How about you give me yours real quick and i'll text you. My boss is on his way out"

"Sure".

Frank gave me his number and we said a quick goodbye, i ended the call by the time Andy reached my desk.

"Im just going to grab some lunch, can i get you something?" He offered.

"Oh, shouldn't i be the one getting your lunch?"

"You don't have your car remember" he smiled

"Right! In that case i would love to take you up on your offer"

The day had flown by and before i realised it was nearly 5pm, i usually finished at 5pm but i thought id stick around a little longer to make up my time from this morning.

Frank: So what time do u get off?

Y/N: Usually 5, but i guess i'll stay a while longer to make up my hours.

Frank: Meet me for that drink?

Y/N: Sure. Where abouts?

Frank: There's a bar not far from ur office, i can swing by and pick u up....

Y/N: Sounds good, say 6pm?

Frank: c u then 😉

I put my phone face down on my desk and dropped my head into my hands.

"Hey, you okay?" Andy asked looking concerned as he came out his office holding his coffee mug, he was obviously on his way for a refill. I looked up and smiled before nodding my head.

"yeah i'm fine, just been one of those days"

"Why are you still here? You were meant to finish a while ago"

"Thought id make up my time, don't want you thinking i'm not pulling my weight"

"Don't be silly, your car broke down that can't be helped. You want a coffee?"

"Actually i'm good, i'm just gonna finish this up and i'll head out"

"You need a ride home or anything?"

"No its fine, i'll just get a taxi home and hopefully my car will be ready tomorrow"

"Okay..... the offer stands if you need it though"

"Thank you" i smiled before carrying on with the email i was writing.

Around 5:30 i was done with work and decided to quickly go freshen up a bit before meeting Frank. After checking my hair wasn't a mess and putting on some fresh makeup i headed back out saying a quick goodbye to Andy as i passed his office, and went outside to wait for Frank. I was surprised to find him already parked outside waiting, he was stood leaning against his car smoking. When he saw me he smiled instantly making me blush, i still couldn't believe he was interested in me!

"Hey"

"Hey, did your day get better?" He asked smirking.

"Well it didn't get worse, maybe its about to get better now?" I found myself saying, it was so unlike me but Frank seemed to bring it out of me.

"I think i can help with that" he nodded opening up the car door for me to get in.

Little did i know my boss was watching me leave with Frank and he was not happy!

Frank led me into a bar he was obviously a regular at, he greeted so many different people on the way in, introducing me along the way.

"Do you know everyone?" I asked as we took a seat at the bar.

"Small town remember" he gave me that smirk again as he looked me up and down.

"Right" i chuckled as the barman came over to take our order. Frank ordered a Whisky and a Vodka tonic for me, then he was looking at me again with a hunger in his eyes.

"What?" I asked feeling the nerves overtake me "do i have something on my face...."

"No, i just.... your so fucking pretty"

"You say that to all the girls Frank?" I asked in a teasing tone.

"Only when i mean it....." Frank looked up at the barman and nodded as the drinks were placed in front of us "I'm gonna be honest with you Y/N, i haven't been able to stop thinking about you all day its been driving me crazy" he carried on saying once we were alone again. I picked up my drink taking a large mouthful as i processed what he was saying.

"I've been thinking about you too Frank but....." i shook my head as i remembered Andy's warning.

"But?"

"Ive been warned to stay away from you" i admitted just so i could see his reaction "apparently your the towns 'bad boy' who sleeps his way around all the women in town" i finished saying and raised my eyebrows at him. I watched as Franks eyebrows shot up at this news, he nodded before locking his eyes on me again "wow, let me guess... Andy?"

"Yep"

"The guy really doesn't like me" Frank chuckled "i don't know what his problem is to be honest...."

"So his lying?"

"No" he shook his head laughing "i enjoy sex, i didn't know that was a crime. Im a single guy why shouldn't i have some fun?" he shrugged casually.

"Oh...."

"Im not a bad guy though i promise you"

"So why does he think you are?

"Maybe his jealous, Ive heard his marriage isn't great..... maybe his jealous that I've taken a liking to you?"

I couldnt help the laugh that escaped me at that idea "You think thats funny? Ive seen the way he looks at you, and hey, i cant blame him"

"Frank stop, Andy doesn't look at me like that at all. His my boss"

"Doesn't mean his blind though does it" Frank asked leaning toward me.

"You didn't try to seduce his wife did you?" I asked trying to steer the conversation away from me.

"No! I promise" he laughed as i downed the rest of my drink "You want another?" He asked looking at my now empty glass, i nodded quickly.

"One more then i have to go, i still need to work out how I'm getting home"

"I could take you....."

The way he was looking at me right now made me clench my thighs together. The man just radiated sex! There was no way i was going to listen to Andy's warning, if i went into this knowing Frank was only interested in sex it should be fine.... right???

"Okay".

When Frank parked up outside my house i turned to him and invited him in for a drink to which he accepted. Now he was sat on my sofa waiting for me to get the drinks, i was stood in the kitchen filling two glasses with ice and whisky feeling my hands shaking slightly with nerves.

I wasn't the type of girl to casually hook up! What was i doing?? I only met Frank this morning...... but shit, the thought of him was driving me wild.

As i turned to head into the living room Frank was stood there watching me.

"Here you go" i smiled and handed him the glass of whisky, he thanked me and took a mouthful before placing it on the side and walking over to me, backing me up against the kitchen table. His hand came up and caressed my face, his thumb tracing my bottom lip as he looked into my eyes, his gaze then lowered to my mouth before he kissed me. His hands cupping my face as he deepened the kiss and my god.... this man knew what he was doing! I couldnt help but kiss him back with everything i had. Frank lifted me onto the table and stood between my thighs as he made quick work of removing my shirt, he slipped down my bra straps before discarding it completely. His hands pushing up my skirt.... i reached down and grabbed his hand pushing it between my legs where i needed him the most. His hand slipped inside my panties and i let out a moan as he started rubbing my clit, his fingers sliding through my folds easily from how wet i was already. Frank pushed two fingers inside me, his mouth never leaving mine as he worked me over.

"Fuck...." i moaned gasping for air and throwing my head back. Frank smirked as he knelt down infront of me.... he pulled off my panties leaving my skirt bunched around my waist, he pressed kisses to the inside of ankle trailing up my leg before burying his face in my cunt. I was soon a writhing mess laying back on the kitchen table as he licked and sucked at me like his life depended on it. I cried out when my first orgasm hit, my hands buried in his hair. I pulled him back up and kissed him hard tasting myself on his tongue.

"I need you inside me now...." i said breathlessly between heated kisses. Frank just reached down and quickly released his cock from his jeans and then he was pushing inside me.

"Ah fuck your tight" he groaned as he started working himself in and out of me gradually picking up speed. Before i knew it i was coming again, Frank reaching his end and emptying himself inside me.

I was laying back on the table trying to catch my breath after the best sex of my life, Frank was resting over me looking up at me.

"Are you okay?" He asked reaching his hand up to rest against my neck.

"Yeah i'm great" i nodded quickly smiling down at him as my hands run through his hair "how about you?"

"Im amazing" he chuckled.

"Yes you are!" I agreed and laughed with him "i don't think i can feel my legs".

Frank dropped his head face down into my chest and let out a groan.

"I wanna know why im the only one naked here though" i added when i noticed he was still wearing his shirt, his jeans only low enough to free his cock.

"Im sorry...." he lifted his head to look at me "there wasn't time for that, i needed you too bad" he smiled.

I had expected Frank to get up and leave but when i came out the bathroom he was stood in the kitchen looking through takeout menu's.

"You wanna order some takeout? i don't know about you but i'm starving"

"You read my mind!" I smiled walking over to grab my phone from my bag to call in the order. When i looked i had a missed call and a message from an unknown number, i unlocked my phone and opened the message.

Unknown: Hey Y/N, its Andy. I got your number from your file hope you dont mind. Just wanted to ask if you needed a ride into the office tomorrow? I pass you on my way so i can pick you up if your still without a car. Let me know.

Y/N: Hi Andy, that would be great actually.

Andy: I'll be by around 8am :)

Y/N: Great! See you tomorrow.

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit

Rose Coloured Glasses taglist: @readermia @princess-evans-addict

#sebastian stan #chris evans #frank x reader #andy barber x reader #rose coloured glasses #reader insert #endings beginnings #defending jacob

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skittles1229 · 3 years

Text

Old Expectations Die Hard (Dashie x Reader Fanfic)

Chapter One: Weird Circumstances

You know your life is complicated when the friend you always complain to says "you never have a dull moment do you?" I sigh as the weight of the world seems to make it impossible to breath. You see recently things have been rough. I lost my job and my fiance all in the same day, that itself was an unbelievable story. I was so upset and strung out on thoughts of what to do that once i got home early from work i didn't notice the extra car in the driveway. i stepped into my home and my own floors felt as if they'd given way when i saw the guy i thought i'd be spending my life with in bed, with my sister... my sister and i hadn't been on good terms for a while and for a good reason! The drugs she took either made her unreliable and selfish or crazy and murderous. He, of course, pulled the its not what you think, id never hurt you, it was a mistake, and honestly i could write a book out of the excuses i heard in the time of two minutes but maybe another time. Needless to say i left. I never thought about going back and to be honest my sister looked more hurt then i was. I took a job in California a few weeks ago and moved in with my friend (BFF Name). They always seemed to know what to say and honestly i truly believe They knew me better then i know myself.

California gave me the biggest culture shock I've ever had. I came from Mississippi, the bible belt and the most rural part of the world. California was sooooo different then what i was use to. The weather is awesome. There's lots of jobs for technical people, at least until you're 45 and then you're considered ancient and you can't possibly know anything when some 23-year old out of Stanford tells you that they know it all. (a little bit of sarcasm there) It's a great place to start a new company, money is available as is talent. The risk of starting a company is lower since you can always find a new job The politics are insane, if you aren't towing the progressive party line you should just STFU. If you even once say that Trump has done something positive, or that Obama did something negative prepare for the wrath. Read the stuff behind the recently filed lawsuit against google for a taste of what it's like. Seriously, don't say a word. The state if structurally bankrupt, although the finances look good because so much stuff is off of the balance sheet. The public pension liability dwarfs the "good" part of the budget, and some day it is coming home to roost. Watch out when it does. The cost of living is absurd, really absurd. I'm not talking just a place to live but gas, electricity, haircuts, milk, pizza, you name it. The traffic is absurd too. (can you tell i like the word absurd) The public transit, although usually on time, is a mess. People are pigs, they throw trash everywhere, the cars are overcrowded almost all the time.

I've got to say, from how much it sounds like i hate California, i actually don't. Mainly because its so far away from my original family, leaving really helped me start to grow up and feel like maybe i was getting a hold of my life again. Only problem has been getting to my new job on time. I work as a barista and a waitress at a brunch place a good minute away from the apartment. The money is good, otherwise i wouldn't waste my time with the commute everyday. i keep being late to work because i still haven't adjusted to how terrible traffic is and so my boss was "nice" enough to switch me to the later shifts. The hours are long and boring because my shift starts in the middle of rush hour to the slowest hours at the end of the day meaning you have to find things to keep yourself busy with. the only good thing is, we can wear pretty much anything we want as long as its black. all i wear is dark colors so i didn't have to spend any extra money on a uniform and i didn't have to wear the same thing everyday. Today i decided i wear a v-neck shirt that with an emperor waist (body forming) with black skinny jeans and my regular converse. i decided against driving to work and decided it would be far smarter to catch a bus to the nearest destination. My (hair color) hair was done is a fishtail messy braid, i always liked this style because it made me look like i had a head full of hair when in reality i thought i was going bald.

My personality was a little odd, you see some days i felt like the beautiful nerd who has no confidence and wants to hide away in a hole. other days i feel like a model from Victoria secrets, of course those are the days i get the most tips. today was honestly a mutual day, where id rather be at home in my bed asleep, or listening to music. The bus finally stopped a block away from my job and i sighed obviously not wanting to go into work. surprisingly there wasn't nearly as many cars as there usually is around this time but i wasn't complaining. i walk in to see that most of the downstairs was empty but whoever was upstairs definitely had a loud mouth. i walk to the back in order to clock in and i bump into melany ( the girl im shifting with). "wow you actually got here on time! Maybe the boss's mood will cheer up." i huffed a little. "yea, i dont know why i thought id need a car in California, say whats with the low level of customers? its NEVER this slow." she looked at me in disdain, "some guys reserved the entire upstairs and we had to make this huge table out of all our tables up there, glad im not gonna be the one fixing it later." i rolled my eyes, i hated when a huge family came in and they just had to move everything around because little johnny wants the sit next to suzzie and suzzie HAS to sit by her parents bc she likes to throw her food on the floor, all fake names but a real situation ive been in before. "well have they at least been fed so that i only have to clean up after them?" she shook her head while hanging up her apron. "nope, they've only ordered their drinks and they are getting those onto trays now." so today was gonna be like every other day. "guess i better go help them take those upstairs then, have a good rest of your day." i walk away and slip on my apron, grabbed one of the trays of drinks while another waiter grabbed the rest of the drinks. Once i got upstairs, that's when i met him...

Chapter Two: Last Will and Testament

He was sitting on the far end of the long table of people laughing and joking. everyone seemed to be loud and all had their own inside jokes. This guy, he stuck out. i changed my attention to the task at hand, finishing this shift. i hated when people moved all the tables and seating around. all the waiters and waitresses have to go back behind them and look at the layout of the floor to put them all back exactly as they were before. it was a struggle and because of this nobody actually wanted that job so usually the manager gives it to her least favorite workers and i happened to be one. "who all had coke?" nobody answered me so one of the men bellowed out the same line and somehow was able to get a show of hands. i walked around handing out drinks, catching the lingering smell of strong liquor. i could tell by the end of tonight they would all be wasted and loud. please, just don't make more of a mess then you have to, i thought to myself. i had one drink left on my tray, "sweet tea?" the guy i saw before at the end of the table waved his hand and i dreaded going over there, i always seem to make a fool of myself when it matters.

i make my way slowly down the table with the tray under my arm and the tea in my hand. i lean over to sit his drink on the table.."here's your t-" *CRASH* while joking with one of his friends his elbow crashes into my hand sending the tea flying all over me and the cup crashing to the floor, thank god i wore black. he turned around and looked more horrified then i did. "i'm sorry! i'm so sorry!" his voice was deeper then i imagined it'd be. "no, it my fault i'm sorry ill get you a new one." i turned away to hide my embarrassment and walked away really just trying to get away from the situation. i could tell from the silence behind me that all eyes were on me. i ran to the back where the lockers were for the service. i went to the bathroom and stripped the sticky clothes off throwing them aside. i sat on the toilet trying to catch my breath, my social anxiety had struck me hard. a feeling of worthlessness and dread fell over me like a blanket. after the past few months i've had just one day without something terrible happening would mean the world to me. i heard a knock on the door, it was melany, she walked in with a towel from the kitchen. "hey, i heard what happen upstairs are you ok?" i covered my breast trying keep myself as unexposed as possible. "oh yea im fine, im just cold, and sticky, and... covered in tea." melany and i made eye contact and both laughed just to lift the dread in the air. "let me guess, all the guys are getting a kick out of watching me fumble again huh?" i said a little less concerned and more annoyed. she rolled her eyes "they are boys, they get a kick out of picking their own nose. we both slid to the floor beside each other, she hands me the damp towel. i get most of the sticky off as possible, throwing my hair up to make it look less clumped together by the sugar. "i have an extra black t shirt in my locker but i don't know how it will fit you. your breast are at least a size larger then mine." i shrugged my shoulders, "who cares ill make do. thanks for your help melany." she smiled her weird anime girl smile and ran to get the shirt from her locker.

ill have to admit, she was right about the size thing. it was far to small around the chest area but the rest fit fine. after the incident my boss stuck me down stairs wiping tables and sweeping the floor, i dont mind though because i get to experience the day coming to an end with a beautiful sunset over California. i secretly kept the the window to watch as the sun fell from the sky. the sky seemed to burn and darken while the clouds began to glow with the last bit of sunlight left. the sky filled up with burning Burgundy and faded orange and yellows, the tallest buildings seemed to reach for the skyline as if it were a sunflower moving to the last drip of sunlight. moving here had been hard, and this had become one of the things i looked forwards to. living in the apartment with my friend was nice, buts its not the same as coming home to someone you use to lay with every night. sleeping alone seemed so much colder and emptier then i remembered from childhood. my mother would be so disappointed in the way i turned out, in the places id gone and the decision to spend my life with someone who was most obviously the wrong one. she would have told me to slow down and to take my time, that growing up wasn't everything. she would have said love isn't something you just wake up and have, its something you make. i wasn't anywhere close to where i thought id be by now, and i could see that. it tears at my heart everyday, not being able to see her or any of my family. sometimes it felt as if they'd all died in the fire that night.

i suddenly heard a boom of voices making their way down the stairs, i hadn't realized how close to closing time it had become. all of them walk out stumbling and laughing at their own jokes, seems they all got a good bit of drinking in, all except one. The guy i ran into on accident seemed as sober as ever, designated driver i think, he was much taller now. he seemed muscular but in such a fitting way for his body. his teeth sparkle because their so white, his smile complimented him best. his high cheekbones made his chocolate brown eyes his best feature. His skin was glowing with a sweet honey hue and before i could notice that i was staring he turned his head. his eyes met mind before i could think twice and that's when i felt the heat rise to my cheeks. weather it be from embarrassment or silly school girl shyness i didn't know . i turned my face away but it was too late, i turned my face a little just to catch a glimpse of him before he made his way out of the door and that's when i noticed his cheeks had gone from a burnt caramel to a rosy color. i felt my body shiver at the thought that maybe, just maybe he found me as attractive as i found him. i shook the thought from head realizing they had began locking the place down. as i helped close up shop and wash dishes i couldn't help but to let my mine wander to all different kinds of thoughts, funny thing was they always fell back to him and his rosy cheeks. i couldn't help but smile as i felt my heart race at the thought of him, even though id made a fool of myself today i was glad i hadn't ruined my chances. Even if he'd never get with me or i wouldn't ever see him again, i'd still take it as a compliment that he even looked my way.

before long we were all outside laughing and talking about today. The manager locked the doors and said his goodbyes. i turn to walk towards the bus station when i see a man standing aside awkwardly between the restaurant and the parking lot. suddenly my eyes adjusted and once they did, the joyousness butterflies came back and the blush suddenly reappeared on my cheeks..

There are lots more chapter after this if you are interested you can find them here

https://my.w.tt/sosFRmianbb

#dashiegames #dashiexp #dashie x reader #fanfictions #fanfic #self insert #romance

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color-me-malfoy · 4 years

Text

TEN DUEL COMMANDMENTS: CHAPTER IV

SUMMARY:

After the rumor spreads that The Dark Lord has returned, a tyrant woman called Dolores Umbridge takes over Headmaster Dumbledore’s position to run the school in a way where no one can speak against the Ministry. In the middle of all the chaos, Harry Potter approaches you saying that he wants you to help him in a secret mission to teach the students how to defend themselves in case The Dark Lord infiltrates the school. However, a certain platinum-haired boy from the Inquisitorial Squad is seeking every way to win you over to his side. So you’re stranded between what you believe in and what you think is right. And right now, you aren’t willing to wait for it.

CHAPTER IV: GOD HELP AND FORGIVE ME, I WANNA BUILD SOMETHING THAT’S GONNA OUTLIVE ME

“Can… Can we stop? I’ve been- I’ve been running up… up and down the stairs all day,” you wheezed as Harry, Ron, Lester, and Ruth raced ahead of you. Harry held his hand out.

“You can have a seat when we get there, just one more floor to go,” he said as he turned back and continued up the stairs.

“Where...” you gasped as you finally reached the seventh floor, bracing the banister. “Where are you even taking us?”

He didn’t respond as he and Ron checked the hallway for anybody, then signaled to the rest of you to follow along. When you, Ruth, and Lester made your way towards them, Harry smiled with pride as the wall behind him seemed to open up.

“I present to you… The Room Where It Happens.”

He stepped aside, revealing a beautiful expanse, where there were students duelling, students practicing spells, and students conjuring their own Patronuses, gazing in awe as the blue glowing creatures pranced around their creators.

Now this is what Hogwarts is supposed to be. Not examinations, not protocols, not strict totalitarianism under the Ministry.

“Harry,” Ruth breathed out, absolutely speechless. You could see her eyes glistening over.

Lester looked around. “What is this place?”

“The legendary Room of Requirement,” Ron beamed.

You turned to Harry. “How did you find it? Hundreds of wizards before you have tried.”

Harry gestured to the room, allowing you to enter. “Of course we did a little research before we actually created Dumbledore’s Army,” he said. “We made sure no one else knew how to open it.”

You stepped further into the room, and everyone turned to look at the five of you.

“Alright, mates,” Ron waved his hands. “I hope you know Ruth, Lester, and Y/N. They’re going to join us.”

“Wait a minute,” you turned to Ron and Harry as Ruth and Lester walked to join the other students. “I didn’t say anything about joining you yet.”

“But clearly you’re not on Malfoy’s side!” Ron wailed.

“The enemy of my enemy is not my friend, Ron, I’m more of a neutral party.”

Harry grabbed your shoulders. “Y/N, you could be the one to help change the system. Do you support this movement?”

“Of course!”

His eyes narrowed. “Then defend it.”

“And what if you’re backing the wrong horse?”

“Y/N, things like this are what Dumbledore wanted us to be prepared for. Magic isn’t all potions and wand-waving. I’ve seen more than I can bear to retell in that damned graveyard, and I don’t want any more people learning to live with the unimaginable.”

“The unimaginable? What do you mean-”

An Asian Ravenclaw girl tapped Harry on the shoulder. “Harry, Hermione has something she needs to tell you.” She turned to you. “You must be Y/N L/N. I’m Cho Chang.”

You smiled at her. “Hi, Cho.”

She held your arm gently. “Could I have a word with you?”

The two of you moved to the side.

“So,” she glanced at Harry before looking back at you. “What made you want to join?”

“Well, it’s kind of a long story, but I’m still deciding. But don’t worry, I’m willing to keep this a secret no matter what.”

“Harry told me how you have some questions about what we do, well, we fight for Hogwarts and-”

“Yes, I know, it’s just,” you ran a hand through your hair, “is the trouble worth it?”

Cho sighed. “Actually, I was hesitant at first to join this because of how much trouble I could possibly get into. But then,” she took out her wand, closing her eyes. “I thought of Cedric.”

“Cedric Diggory?” You gasped. The boy had been murdered by The Dark Lord, but the Ministry had only called it a “tragic accident”.

“Yes,” she smiled sadly, her eyes still shut. “I thought of what he would want me to do, what he’d want all the students to do if he were still alive.”

Her wand glowed blue at the tip, and a tear slid down her cheek.

“I thought that maybe he’d want me to tell his story by fighting for what I know is right.”

The blue glowed brighter, and she held on tighter to her wand, her eyes still shut.

“I just think that if there’s a reason I’m alive in a world where Cedric doesn’t exist anymore,” she whispered wistfully, “I’m willing to wait for it.”

As she said those words, the image of a swan emerged, and danced around her, leaving a stream of misty blue gleaming in its trail.

She turned to you, tears running down her cheeks, and a determined look in her eyes as she smiled.

If she hadn’t put down her wand, you wouldn’t have realized you were crying too.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m such a bloody softie,” you giggled as you wiped away the tears on your sleeve. “I’m so sorry you had to endure that.”

She shook her head. “It’s made me stronger, no matter how much it hurts.”

You sniffed and looked up at her, feeling the tears coming back. “Ca-can I hug you?” You squeaked.

She nodded, then held her arms open for you to embrace her. You sobbed into her shoulder as she rubbed your back.

You let her go and laughed. “I’m sorry, I should be comforting you.”

“No, it’s alright. Harry cried more,” she giggled.

“What about me crying?” Harry walked over to the two of you. “Alright, Cho, what bollocks are you telling Y/N about me?”

The three of you laughed. Cho shook her head. “No, Harry, we were just talking about-”

“I’m joining,” you cut her off.

Harry turned to you, his eyes wide. “Wha-what?”

“I said,” you smiled at Cho, “I’m joining Dumbledore’s Army.”

Ron hollered a cheer. “Congratulations, Y/N! Hey, I’m sorry about how I reacted to Malfoy this afternoon. I just hate him so much,” he clenched his fists and pretended to throw a punch.

“Now, Ron,” a curly-haired girl warned him, “You know what happened the last time you tried hexing him.”

You turned to her, “You must be Hermione Granger,” you smiled.

“I heard about how Malfoy copied off your potion and took credit for it,” she whispered. “How could he possibly be a role model student?”

“Well, he didn’t exactly copy off me, he was probably just looking at how to crack the shells,” you shrugged.

“He asked you to the library tomorrow, right?” Hermione recalled.

“Well, yes, but I don’t think Harry and Ron want me to go-”

“Go.”

“Wh-what?”

“This is our chance to get information on how much the Inquisitorial Squad really knows about You-Know-Who’s return. Maybe you can slip in a question or two about it.”

“I- well, okay.”

After Harry introduced you to the other D.A. members, you walked down the stairs with Hermione, because Lester and Ruth stayed behind to talk about something with Harry.

“So you drank it,” Hermione gasped.

“I didn’t! Livina came in talking about a commotion by the stairs that never happened.”

Hermione turned to you. “Oh, yeah, about that, why the blazes did she do that?”

“I don’t know,” you replied. “She said she did it for a friend. Who on Earth could that friend possibly be?”

The two of you stopped.

Hermione looked at you.

You looked at Hermione.

“Livina’s a Slytherin,” Hermione thought out loud.

“And Malfoy’s a Slytherin...” you trailed off.

“Could it...be?”

You stared at each other until…

“Ha! No way!” Hermione laughed.

The two of you burst out into laughter, and talked for the rest of the night, unaware of the Slytherin girl grimly eavesdropping in on the two of you.

Livina scrunched her nose in disgust at your conversation with Ruth.

Her, doing something for that obnoxious Malfoy twat?

Draco was a Slytherin, yes, and so was she, but that didn’t mean they agreed on all terms. They were forced to work together because she was part of the Inquisitorial Squad, but all things considered, even her dog spoke more eloquently than him.

That was the problem of being a Slytherin, she always had a reputation to maintain.

But in reality, she loved Ravenclaws.

She wished she had been sorted in Ravenclaw, but here pureblood mother wouldn’t settle for anything less than perfect- or rather- her idea of perfect. She knew she loved the thrill of books, and she liked a person of intelligent substance.

She liked a mind at work.

Which is why she fell in love with Lester.

Yes, dear reader, Lester Lawrence, the boy everyone knew as the biggest bookworm of his age. The boy everyone knew she teased.

But, again, in reality, she really, really wished she could be kinder, to tell him how much he had bedazzled her with his bubbly and bright personality, but she didn’t know where to start.

So she had settled for staring, “lightly” teasing him, and even subtly helping his friends with whatever they needed.

Earlier, she thought she had already done enough by only telling you not to drink the tea. But after she saw Lester panicking about you, and running around with a Hufflepuff girl holding onto his hand, even if it broke her heart to see someone else holding him, she decided she valued her heart over her head and took the risk of being scolded by Umbridge and her parents, and ran to Umbridge’s office to make a diversion.

Even if Umbridge was as smart as a pebble and never really knew a thing, she knew her parents would find out one way or another about her actions. She already knew the owl would come flying to her the next morning, clawing her worst nightmare as it settled down on the desk. She already knew her parents would be furious for helping a Muggle-born, and yell at her to remember her place as a pureblood. She knew they would take their quills and write out their disappointment in her for the parchment to yell in her face when she opened it.

And she already knew she would have to choose.

But she also knew she’d see Lester, happy even though she wasn’t the reason, but happy with his friends... and of course, the Hufflepuff girl.

A tear rolled down her cheek, then another, then another. Soon Livina had to brace herself against the pillars to calm her breathing, though she was already racked with sobs as she curled into a ball against the floor.

She had never wanted the world; she only wanted to give the world to the one she loved.

She would never be satisfied.

=========

Taglist: @moonliightbabes @slytherin-chaser @holybatflapexpert

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy oneshots #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy #draco x y/n #harry potter x hamilton #hamilton #harry potter fanfic #harry potter oneshots #harry potter

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btshogwartsfics · 4 years

Text

‘till death do us part | ii

synopsis: you should’ve known that stealing your father’s company out from under him would cost you. turns out, if he can’t kick you out of the office, he’s determined to make sure it isn’t entirely yours. business tycoon kim namjoon seems to agree.

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: e2l, marriage of convience, fluff, maybe slight angst

words: 1021

a/n: still short, i know, but i hope they will get longer as we go along!! i just got back from my grandparents’ this week (and they had zero internet connection), and i’ve been settling back in but hopefully i can begin putting these out regularly!

also: part two of a drabble series for @namjoonxorg birthday, the concept of which was inspired by the netflix remake of the show “Dynasty”. hope you enjoy!

i | ii | iii | iv

Despite your best efforts, the soft breeze does its best to rake its fingers through your hair, thoroughly protected by your hat. The now warm spring weather allows for a more breathable wardrobe, something you are grateful for.

Looking down at your food, you try your hardest to not simply pick at your food, but your lack of interest must be evident on your face for your companion heaves a sigh and disregards her own plate.

“Okay,” Minah says, crossing her arms with her ‘i-know-you-want-to-talk-you-just-don’t-want-to-say-it-so-now-you’re-making-me-pry-it-out-of-you’ look. “Spill.”

Still, you sniff haughtily (yes you’ve mastered that) and then your head away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She isn’t convinced. “Yes you do.” A pause. She stares at you with her beady, all-knowing eyes. A lightbulb. “So… how’s Namjoon?”

Your eyes snap to hers, unaware if you’re glad she brought it up so you wouldn’t have to, or displeased that your exact problem was so obvious.

A frown tugs your lips down. “I can’t even talk to the guy, it’s like he’s a robot or an alien or something.”

Minah appears confused. “But you don’t even like him,” she points out.

“No,” you concede, having officially abandoned your garden salad (to make sure you fit into your dress, as your father had said). “But there’s no way to get out of this marriage. My father has made it abundantly clear that I only have two options: marry him and be CEO, or call it off and bow down to him. And I don’t bow down to anyone.”

“You would get married just to spite your father?”

“Yes.”

Your friend grins. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

You shrug in an effort to remain nonchalant, though a smirk threatens to paint your face. “Hell hath no fury, as they say.” A beat passes and you continue. “So, if I can’t get out of this marriage, I have to at least make sure it seems real or else the press would have a field day. Which means giving my dream wedding up to that arrogant, pompous, self-righteous excuse for a man.”

Minah nods, processing. You can practically see the cogs in her billion-dollar brain ticking. “Why do you hate him so much? You just met him. Surely, he has the common sense not to be a total asshole to his fourteen-day fiancé?”

Electing to ignore her quip, you suddenly find the end of your fork very distracting. It only takes her a second to jump to conclusions.

She gasps, her dark, cat like eyes widen and her wine red lips form a scandalized ‘O’. “Oh my god, you’ve met him before!”

You shush her furiously, looking around to make sure there were no prying eyes or ears to listen to your conversation.

(Even though if there were, you’d already be majorly screwed anyway.)

“Yes,” you say finally, a sour expression controlling your face. “I’ve met him before.”

“Care to elaborate?”

A low groan escapes you and suddenly you wished you’d never started the conversation in the first place. “It was a year ago at one of my dad’s stupid charity events.”

“Oh yes,” Minah snarks. “Because charity is oh so stupid.”

You glare at her. “You know what I mean.”

She smirks to herself, nodding. “I do. Continue.”

“Well, at first I thought he was really hot, you know, that tall, dark, and handsome kinda thing?” You shift in your seat, unable to get comfortable in the lousy plastic chair. “I was even going to ask him to dance when a good song came on, but then I heard him talking about a sales pitch my dad must have given him, that I came up with by the way, and he was just completely picking it apart! I spent months trying to finalize that deal, but one word from him and suddenly daddy decides to cut the entire thing! I mean, can you believe that?”

“I don’t know,” the raven haired girl replies, tilting her head in thought. “I remember that. Didn’t your dad find a calculation error in there that would’ve completely skewed your numbers?”

Your fork freezes halfway to your mouth. “What?”

“Yeah,” Minah announces, more sure of herself this time as a flash of recognition comes to her. “He said that your pitch relied too heavily upon the cooperation of Phera Corp. and that the numbers couldn’t risk a major rejection like that.”

Sometimes, you wish you’d never told her some things. This was one of those times.

“Whose side are you on?” You huff, pouting.

She rolls her eyes at your petty display, but is far too used to it by now to care. “Yours, of course, but I’m just saying. That was a whole year before this little… arrangement of yours. He had no ties to your company, likely could have benefited more from allowing the deal to go through...”

“Maybe he’s not as bad as you thought.”

“Or maybe,” you seethe, unable to accept defeat. “He’s just had my family’s company in his sights for longer than we all thought. I knew he wasn’t to be trusted!”

Minah sighs and says nothing. What can she say? You have a very love-hate relationship with reason. Today must be an off-day.

“Sure.”

After that, the rest of your lunch proceeds without any more hitches, but gets cut short when Minah gets an emergency call from her own company that she has to see to right away.

Apologizing for not being about to drive you home, you wave the girl off with an easy smile, telling her that it’s really no big deal, you can just call one of your chauffeurs.

As she says her farewells, you wait at your table patiently until you see a familiar limousine pull up to the curb.

“Thank god, I need to start getting ready for a business dinner soon,” You lament as you climb into the car. “Just straight home please.”

But then you hear a voice that definitely doesn’t belong to your usual driver.

“That address might be changing soon, y’know,” Namjoon grins, all dimples and pride. “You might need to specify.”

#bts #bts au #kim namjoon #namjoon #rm #bts namjoon #bts rm #bts kim namjoon #joon #namjoon x reader

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minah-delacroix · 3 years

Text

At any price (Part IV)

Universe: Dynasty AU

Characters: Minah, Sungjae, Tyler, Tara, Ashleigh, Daniel, Lucas

Word count: 4,3 k

The blind spot

“The Lee Corp gift strategists are on their way, should I set them up in the study room?” Lucas, Tyler’s very handsome mentee, said as the two of them walked into the golden room on the second floor of the Lee Manor. It was just another morning at the Lee’s, and Lucas ever so helpful was running through Tyler’s day’s schedule. Coming from one of the richest families in town, Lucas Zhang was surely one of a kind. He possessed the killing looks of a pop star —or at least that was how Jane described him to anyone willing to listen—, the good manners of the only son of a very traditional, old money Asian family and the ability to memorize Tyler’s schedule by heart and put up with his oftentimes ridiculous demands.

“Please, do,” Tyler said, practically snatching the cup of coffee one of the maids was about to serve to Lucas before sitting at the head of the curved glass table where Tara usually hosted her reading club soirées, but that had been set up for yet another majestic breakfast that morning.

Living with the Lee siblings was quite an experience and despite having spent nearly a month under the same roof, Minah was not used to their extravagant way of living yet. Even for someone like her who’d grown up surrounded by otherworldly luxury and wealth, some of Tyler’s habits seemed over the top at the very least. Minah had uselessly tried to convince herself that having her clothes washed and ironed with lavender water imported exclusively from Provence for that purpose or having breakfast at different sections of the house every day were just little quirks, but some of the house’s codes made her frankly uncomfortable. Having Tyler’s maids following her around and offering to perform even the most common and simplest of the tasks was one of them. She still recalled the time one of the housemaids offered to undress her and brush her hair before taking a bath. According to Tara, it was just the royal pampering they had been trained to give, but Minah still found it odd. Royal court training or not, she didn’t want any woman touching her intimately.

Then there was the excessive food and the grand buffets each meal turned into. Minah herself was not too much of a foodie, so she considered the exaggerated amount of fine cuisine a waste of resources. That morning was no particularly different and a spread of breakfast classics laid out on the table: exotic fineries like British tea mixes Minah had never heard of before, macarons from Tyler’s personal patissier, small cakes with the Lee family’s coat of arms —two dragons intertwined by a cross flory over a per saltire field—, silver dollar pancakes with red fruits, toasted English muffins, four different types of yogurt, you name it.

“Good morning, Miss Delacroix” Minah couldn’t help but smile that little satisfied grin of hers she reserved for men of his kind when Lucas sat across the table, bowing at her the slightest bit. Breakfast had suddenly become ten times more fulfilling with a man as beautiful around.

“Did you sleep well, darling?” Tyler cleared his throat, directing a fleeting, charming smile at Minah, who sat to his right dressed in a luxurious champagne peignoir that hugged every curve of her body. Then he eyed Lucas, pointing at the iPad with a very detailed schedule glowing on its screen.

“After the meeting with the-“ Whatever Lucas was planning to say, it was disrupted by his phone loudly ringing in the pocket of his Anderson & Sheppard jacket. He picked the call and almost immediately mouthed a “they’re here” to Tyler. Lucas pushed the chair back and stood up excusing himself with Minah with another bow before disappearing through the arched entrance.

“Is Mr. Choi up yet?” Tyler ignored the little pout Minah’s lip stuck out in and asked to no one in particular, though if Minah had to guess, he was talking to Mrs. Chu, his elderly Singaporean nanny.

“I’m afraid not” She replied, barely looking up from her phone. She was lounging on a chaise long, focused on her favorite mobile game. “He said he needed to catch up on his sleep,” She said before muttering to herself “As though he didn’t sleep enough already”.

“Well, please let him know I’ll be in the study room with the gift strategists in case he needs anything” Tyler reached to grab a pitcher of orange juice, but one of the maids standing nearby pounced forward to serve him.

“Gift strategists?” Minah asked, blowing softly on the surface of her cup of pine nut and apricot tea.

“Gifts for our clients” Tyler replied naturally “I mean, my family company’s” he corrected himself as the maid placed a bowl of fruit and greek yogurt in front of him “We are sponsoring The Royal Exchange's annual tree lighting ceremony this year. I thought we’d hand the gifts there-” He trailed off, a slightly concerned expression of disbelief crossed his face “Don’t tell me, you forgot the year-end business presents for our company”

Minah shook her head fervently although Tyler was not mistaken. With the stress of dealing with her family and her mind occupied by thoughts of Sungjae, she’d completely forgot about the business presents she was supposed to prepare. “What do you take me for?” She chuckled “Of course Maison Envoûté has something in the works."

“Do I get one of these gifts too?” Daniel Choi swept into the impromptu breakfast room and sat down across from Minah, admiring the food waiting for him.

“No, your life has been one big Christmas morning since you arrived” Minah faked a sweet smile at Tyler’s friend, who was meant to be visiting from New York for a week, but who’d already prolonged his stay a couple of times. Minah thought she had reasons to worry about him and how much of a distraction he’d represented since he set foot at the Manor. Tyler would often forget appointments because Daniel was around doing God knows what to keep him off his duties.

“You two behave, I’ll be in the study room,” Tyler said trying not to giggle at the way his business partner and his best friend looked at each other —as though they were planning each other’s funeral. “See you at the office, Min” Tyler gave Minah a quick soft kiss on the forehead before exiting the room, causing Daniel to fake retching noises.

“So what are you gonna do?” Daniel asked once Tyler was gone. Minah looked over at him with a serious and inquiring face, so he added “About the client gifts you don’t have?” With an eye roll.

“Like I said it’s in the works” Minah glared at Daniel so forcefully she was surprised he didn’t retreat then.

“Tyler might’ve bought your act, but he’s nice and he gives people more credit than they deserve” He sneered as one of the maids offered him a basket of pastries. He picked a croissant. “I’ve been here two weeks and I already know you have a blind spot when it comes to thinking about other people” He looked like he was going to add something else but he thought better and simply forced himself to smile at Minah

“I have no blind spots. I see all spots.” Minah picked a strawberry and took a bite “Just like I see you eating your croissants while you may be desperately trying to claim a seat at this table” Minah watched satisfied the way Daniel’s face tensed up “But you need to know that unless you’re a Lee or make business with a Lee, no one cares what you think” Minah popped the rest of the strawberry into her mouth, chewing slowly, her mouth twisting into a smirk as she stood to leave “Especially not me”

Daniel’s eyes followed Minah when she walked out of the room, a strange smile gleaming across his face as he piled mini croissants onto his platter.

Boundaries

“Hey, I need a shopping partner or an assistant whichever you’re in the mood to be” Minah called, walking into Sungjae’s house

Somewhere in between the charity football game and the present day Minah and Sungjae had a conversation that allowed them to get some things off their chest and agree to try and be friendly to each other. After all, they’d known each other for a long time, and ignoring each other’s existence was as uncomfortable as it was inconvenient, considering Minah still helped Aurelie with some of her family’s minor companies. That’s why Minah thought there would be no problem if she paid a quick visit to her new “friend”.

“A ride at the very least” she suggested, fixing the chain of her shoulder bag. Just as she reached his room, the door opened and Ashleigh walked through it. She didn’t seem surprised to see Minah, instead, she was fastening her belt with a hundred-watt grin crossing her lipstick smudged lips.

“Oh, I see someone already got one” Minah scoffed, trying to look unfazed and unaffected by the fact Ashleigh never seemed to leave Sungjae’s side.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” Ashleigh asked, walking out of Sungjae’s room and picking her bag from the console table in the hall.

A jab of jealousy nailed Minah in the gut. She could remember personally picking that table for Sungjae in one of the many home decor shopping sprees they went on when he first moved into the Delacroix property.

Suddenly the awful realization that it never was just sex swept over Minah. Sungjae meant a lot more to her than she ever admitted.

Obviously, now it was too late.

“Oh, you mean I can’t just walk in like I own the place?” Minah questioned with a thinly veiled smirk. “Because newsflash, I do”

Ashleigh purposely ignored Minah’s words and reached to pick her coat.

“So how is the job going? Heard Mr. Rausing wasn’t too pleased after finding out you rejected our contract. Now he’s been chasing after us, desperately trying to get us to sign with him, offering us a bargain price for your textiles” Suddenly feeling vindictive, Minah said despitefully. "I guess I should thank you after all"

“The only job I want to talk about is the faux job you pretended to give my boyfriend” Ashleigh frowned. It was the first time the two of them met face to face after Envoûté’s launch party, so Minah wasn’t exactly shocked to find out Sungjae’s girlfriend was still furious at her. After all, she’d made her cry and leave the party early.

“Faux job?” Nevertheless, Minah feigned obliviousness “Wow that’s pretty classy, Ash” Ashleigh cast an exasperated glare at Minah, so she gave in “You know you could argue that me pretending to blow Sungjae was a good thing, you two came out stronger than ever-”

“Are you high on something?” Ashleigh forced a laugh. As if on cue, Sungjae step into the hall.

“What is going on?”

Minah shrugged innocently and Ashleigh, though still fuming, only turned to face her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him on the mouth.

Minah looked away, feeling an unpleasant twinge of jealousy.

“I was about to leave” Ashleigh put on her coat as Sungjae looked over at Minah questioningly “Maybe you should change your locks” The blonde woman gave Sungjae a peck on the cheek before walking out of his home.

There was a brief silent moment where Sungjae continued to look at Minah as if asking for explanations, but she had already started to walk toward the kitchen.

“Minah“ Sungjae called with a weary sigh, making her turn on her heel and look at him with those large Bambi eyes of hers that apparently had long ago lost their effect on him. Sungjae stood looking at her with his arms crossed over the chest, eyes hard as he regarded her with a raised brow.

“I would say she isn’t getting enough of you-know-what, but knowing you-“ Minah was interrupted by Sungjae’s severe sounding voice.

“Minah you can’t just barge in here without respect for boundaries,” Sungjae said, his lips twisted in disapproval.

“Boundaries?” Minah asked, eyelashes fluttering “I thought you agreed to be my friend”

“Yes, but Ashleigh doesn’t want to be your friend” Sungjae’s voice softened “Nor she wants to be reminded we were friends”

“I think you’re using friends as a euphemism, but I mean actual friends” Minah pursed her lips and then stared at Sungjae with something that resembled to pleading eyes, for a brief moment. But of course, Minah was a Delacroix, so her expression shifted automatically, turning a tad reproaching.

“Minah, you can’t expect Ashleigh to be cool after all you put her through”

Minah rolled eyes at that. What about what Ashleigh had put her through?

“You need to give us some space” Sungjae didn’t look amused, nor he’d sounded so serious ever before.

Minah took it as a cue for her to leave.

Sungjae’s Christmas present

“What is all of this?” Tara asked following Tyler into his office. The room smelled like an odd mix of cigars, fine chocolate, and scotch so she regarded Minah, who was sitting at her desk with an arrangement of colorfully wrapped gifts, with wariness.

“It’s the season to show our clients how much we appreciate them” Minah handed a list to Tara and Tyler as they sat across from her on a recently shipped Grand Model Sofa from Le Corbusier. “And to show our competitor’s clients what they’re missing out” she smiled proudly.

“Are we hosting another party?” Tyler asked confused, without even sparing a glance at the list.

“People forget parties as soon as their hangover fades” Minah was probably speaking from her own experience at the launch party but Tara nodded in agreement. “If we can butter up my family’s clients with a memorable present, maybe some of them will be willing to meet with us”

Tyler and Tara shared skeptical looks, but Minah was too busy sorting through the gifts on her desk to notice.

“Now, if you look through the list you can see some of the options-”

“Tara will help,” Tyler said giving a quick glance and losing interest the moment he noticed there were like 20 items on it “Choosing presents is exhausting, I can only deal with it once a year”

“Fine” Minah shrugged, concealing the disappointment in her voice quite well. She’d been under the impression Tyler wanted to pick the gifts for their clients himself, but she figured out the meeting with the gift strategists that morning hadn’t gone quite as planned. “Anyway, my family usually hands the gifts at their Tree Lighting Ceremony, so I guess we could send ours next week at the latest” she added, discarding all the items she’d been planning to show Tyler and putting them back in their respective bags.

“So you’re going to the Lighting Ceremony?” Tyler stood up and asked “casually”, which earned him an eye roll from his sister.

“Of course I am, I’m a Delacroix after all” Minah said distractedly.

“Wanna go together?” Tyler’s invitation made Minah and Tara stop on their tracks and slowly turn to look at him with matching looks of disbelief.

“Well…” Minah started, clearly flustered “I usually go with Sungjae” Tyler’s obvious reaction was to roll eyes while Tara’s face morphed into a grimace that looked like a charade clue for the WTF expletive. “But I figured out his girlfriend wouldn’t like that” Minah went on, picking her bag from the ottoman next to her desk as a new realization hit in. “You know what? I got the best idea for Sungjae’s Christmas present this year” She jumped to her feet enthusiastically.

“Space?” Tara asked, giving Minah a slightly cold judgmental look.

“No” Minah shook her head “I am going to make a new friend”

“Who?” Tyler blinked confused.

“Please don’t say-“ Tara started.

“Ashleigh,” Minah and Tara said in unison, their voices differing in tone.

—

It took Minah an hour to navigate through London’s traffic and make it to Ashleigh’s office on the 30th floor of some North London tower that once upon a time had been considered one of the ugliest architectural pieces in the city, but it had been revamped with vertical gardens that made an important ecological statement as much as they helped it to save face.

Minah had to take a deep breath before walking through the doors of IN-Eco Corp and remind herself that she was only there to show Sungjae how much she actually cared about him and that she was willing to do anything to keep him in her life. She would go as far as to call a truce with Ashleigh. Even if that implicitly conveyed a sign of weakness.

When Minah stepped into Ashleigh’s office she was on the phone complaining about a sponsor drawing back from a contract and how it would affect the company’s organic cotton farming project in Peru, but she was quick to finish the call as soon as she saw Minah.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt” Minah apologized insincerely. Actually, she’d meant to and she was glad Ashleigh picked the hint. “But, I brought you an invitation to the Annual Delacroix Tree Lighting Ceremony” Minah flipped her hair over her shoulder with one hand and pulled a red envelope from her clutch with her other.

“The Tree Lighting might be hosted by your family, but Sungjae is an employee and I’m going as his date, why would I need your invitation?” Ashleigh said, getting up from her desk. “Why are you really here, Minah?” Minah didn’t miss the way Ashleigh pronounced her name —the way someone would pronounce some offensive word.

“Sungjae is my friend and you’re his girlfriend” Minah started, trying not to react at the way Ashleigh moved her hands as if encouraging her to go on and stop repeating the obvious. “So it stands to reason that you and I are gonna run into each other a lot-”

“Is that a threat?” The blonde cut Minah off.

“No” Minah heaved a sigh, thinking about the lengths she’d go to make Sungjae happy with a strange sense of concern and mortification. “I'm just saying we all should be friends for all of our sakes”

“So in other words, you want me to make it more convenient for you to spend time with my man?” Ashleigh raised her brows incredulous. Minah almost let out a chuckle at the fact Ashleigh referred to Sungjae as “her man”, but she had the sense to stop herself.

“Ashleigh, listen, this is not just about Sungjae” Minah offered her a fleeting smile “I would be the first one to admit that I could use a girl friend” Ashleigh laughed as though she couldn’t believe her ears. “Come on, Ashleigh, you’re making things more complicated than they need to be” Minah went on “It’s not like Sungjae and I were even in love” Ashleigh expression hardened upon registering those words “It was just office sex and booty calls”

“Tell that to him” Ashleigh glared at Minah

“Wait, what? Did he say it was more than sex?” Minah attempted to sound casual but was quick to realize Ashleigh wasn't fooled by her cool exterior and was picking up on her lingering excitement.

“And that is exactly why we can’t be friends” Ashleigh fumed, opening the glass door for Minah to leave.

Trying to move on

“Why are you still bothering that poor girl?” Tara inquired sternly, looking at Minah through her pair of frameless Chopard glasses. For someone as lenient as her, Tara seemed quite exasperated

“Well…“ Minah, sitting on the Pierre Frey rug, supported her left elbow on the sofa and placed her hand upon the chin. The two girls had been sitting in one of the lounge rooms on the second floor, supposedly working, but of course, they’d lost their track after Minah decided to share her visit to Northern London with Tara. “I thought that if I tried to be friends with her-“ Minah looked up from the list in her hands, sincerity radiating from her big hazel eyes, something Tara would’ve given Minah credit for if she had not been too busy frowning at her.

“Let-it-go, Min” Tyler’s sister clicked her tongue as though Minah had not spoken. “Close the door and let’s focus on this before Tyler gets back here. We’ll talk about this later when I have Jane backing me up”

Minah rolled her eyes. Tara was really not fun at all ever since she started hanging out with that Mark Yang boy.

“Well, Envoûté is supposed to be super innovative and eco-friendly” Tara started

“Well, if we go with tech it has to be cutting edge, something everybody wants” Minah meditated, her eyes straying briefly to the strong fire blazing in the fireplace

“So why don’t we give them that headphone-headband hybrid, but we make it couture?” Tara suggested.

“Here’s a tip, you can never go wrong with rum,” Daniel said entering the room, a glass with something that looked like a Negroni in his hands.

“Tell that to your parents, Daniel” Minah scoffed. “Look, this is a work zone, for people with jobs”

“Jobs where you can wear pajamas all day?” Daniel said, eyeing Minah up and down and looking at her silk set with reproving eyes. “Sign me up”

“Charlotte Casiraghi wore this last week!” Minah explained to Tara, almost scandalized Daniel was suggesting she was wearing pajamas. “You’ve clearly picked Americans’ bad taste, assuming you ever had it, of course,” Minah spat angrily.

“Whatever, I didn’t come here to comment on your clothes” Daniel started, eyes narrowing to slits “Though I would absolutely change before meeting the cutie that’s waiting for you downstairs” He shrugged before turning around ready to leave.

“Wait! Who is it?” Tara asked curiously.

“I think his name is Seojun” Daniel didn’t deign to look back at the girls before walking away.

“Sungjae?” Minah and Tara exchanged incredulous looks.

____

Ten minutes later Minah walked down the marble staircase into the entrance hall of Tyler’s home. It was a given that Minah Delacroix was always beautiful without even trying, but she looked almost ethereal dressed in white ruffled silk shorts and a bodice with thin straps that barely held the piece of fabric in place and showed more cleavage than her family would deem appropriate for someone of her status. Then there was the fact her hair gleamed against her clothes, spilling down her shoulders in loose waves.

Sungjae had to gulp and look away when she stood in front of him, eyes boring into his.

“What are you doing here?” She questioned, still feeling bitter about their last meeting.

“Well, you don’t seem to understand boundaries, so why should I?” Sungjae’s voice was tense as if he were keeping himself contained within his body. “Why did you go see Ashleigh?” His jaw clenched.

Minah snorted. “I was adulting. All I did was inviting her to the Tree Lighting Ceremony and she kicked me out of her office” She said, giving slow steps, trying to draw closer to Sungjae.

“I told you to give us space and you tried to sabotage my date?” Sungjae shook his head, tongue in cheek as if he couldn’t believe Minah was as tone-deaf.

“What?” Minah’s snort was equal parts confused and offended, she stared at Sungjae, eyes widening and mouth pressed into a fine line. “Wait, you’re taking her to the Tree Lighting?” Her voice was accusing and momentarily she allowed herself to look hurt. “But that’s our thing. I mean-” Of course Minah briefly forgot there was no such a thing as “we” —as in Minah and Sungjae— any more and by extension, there were no traditions for them to keep either, but the thought was so painful that she still went on. She needed a clear response “We always go together-” she trailed off.

“Minah, these boundaries aren’t just for Ashleigh” Sungjae said gravely, “They’re for me” He took a few steps forward, the heels of his dress shoes slightly clicked against the marble floor and before he noticed, he was standing face to face with Minah, so close she could even count his lashes. “I can’t keep doing this every day” Minah recognized the same tone he used the morning after he slept with Ashleigh. “I think about you when I shouldn’t and I need to get you out of my head before we fall back into what we had”

The tension between them was so thick Minah almost felt she couldn't pull air into her lungs. Sungjae’s words echoed through the ample hall and its almost 30-foot ceilings, causing Minah to shudder ever so slightly.

When she finally gathered the courage to speak, Minah felt like facepalming herself. Her breath shook as she parted her lips. “Would- would that be so wrong?” she asked, her hand moving to hold Sungjae’s before her brain could even process what she was doing.

“Yes” Sungjae watched their hands and briefly squeezed Minah’s in something that was probably meant to be a comforting and warm touch, but that only made Minah’s heart tremble in ache. “I’m trying to move on”

And with that Sungjae stormed out of the Lee Manor.

Meanwhile, Minah remained in the same spot, her stomach twisting in pain as she swallowed once, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“You startled me” Just when she was about to indulge in tears, the doors of the manor flung open and Tyler strolled in, clearly surprised to find Minah there, all dolled up. His eyes automatically settled on the curves of her breasts and the glowy skin of her cleavage.

“I- I was-“ Minah heard herself stammer “I was waiting for you to come home” she blatantly lied.

“Why?” Tyler licked his lips almost unconsciously

“I figured out I never gave you an answer” Minah smiled at him fondly, but he looked a bit confused, so she clarified “Do you still want to go to that Tree Lighting together?”

Tyler raised a brow for a fraction of a second, but then he threw a furtive appreciative glance at Minah and smirked, nodding his head.

Why would she ask such obvious questions was beyond him.

...

#oc #story #minah #sungjae #tyler #tara #daniel #lucas #ashleigh #dynasty au

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roughsexwithgaga · 5 years

Text

Love Will Tear Us Apart pt.3

Continued from: “Alone together.”

You met me when I had no light.

"I can't believe you left with him!" Bo said. Her eyes were glowing and she squeezed the steering wheel like it contained all the juicy information. "Is he in love?"

"Why the fuck… I just-" Lady Gaga pushed her sunglasses up her nose.

"Did he want to see you again?"

"Yeah, well. He asked, so yeah!"

Bo grinned and laughed and Gaga looked at all the messages on her phone. You better work, bitch, she thought. One night off and her phone blew up. "Christian, Christian, Christian… what the fuck," she muttered as she scrolled.

"What is he saying?"

"He's apologizing and he's full of regret." Gaga let her hands drop to her thighs and exhaled. "He actually thought that he could get back at me by ignoring me? And now he won't shut up!"

\o/

Gaga could overhear Bobby and Bo talking about things they would never say to her face.

Bo said, "She's hurting herself."

Bobby said, "She's fragile."

She exhaled and wondered how much they were lying about to her face. Fragile? She wanted to object but when she opened her eyes and mouth she realized that she had fallen asleep over the mixer board. Their conversation felt so real in her dream. She looked around the room and noticed that she was in the studio and music was streaming really loud through the speakers. Maybe she subconsciously wanted people to tell her off. Her eyelids felt like they were glued shut and she blinked a few times and yawned. She turned the music off and realized her phone was buzzing.

She didn't even get a chance to say hi before Bloodpop laughed into her ear. "Guess who's here!"

"What?" was all she managed to say in her halfway between asleep and awake state.

"I thought you slept more like a princess all curled up and sweet but MISTER BURNS here says you sleep like a construction worker after a 14 hour shift and 8 pints of Guinness."

She heard Matt shout in the background. "I'm so sorry, Stefani, I did not say that. He's ruthless!"

"What the fuck is going on?" she said, more to herself than the producer who was laughing into her ear. He eventually stopped and she heard a muffled sound like he tried to cover the mic in a dramatic way.

"So you lied to me? I'll remember that. You told me she-"

She heard Matt's voice again, a little louder. "I promise we haven't even discussed you!"

"You don't even know what that looks like!" Gaga shouted. Feeling her cheeks heat up now, recalling how she had woken up at the DJ's place. It would be typical of Michael to joke about it to try and get a reaction out of Matt and he probably didn't know how spot on he was. She hated when people talked over her head and made her seem like she was out of the loop. She was in control, always. Even when she pretended that she wasn't.

Two days had passed since she met Matt Burns and she had been working in the studio as well as with her stylists. Michael finally got to the point and said he and Matt had been putting their heads together for a whole day and it sounded great but he didn't know if she would be interested. She promised she would come over to the Shangri-La studio as soon as she was back in Malibu.

It was getting dark outside so she closed the MacBook and collected the papers scattered in front of her. She had been making notes and going over papers and somehow fallen asleep in the middle of it all. She was so happy most of the awards season already was finalized.

"Oh, you're awake." Bo noticed the music had stopped and approached her with the phone in her hand.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Gaga asked and felt like her whole face still had imprints of knobs and sliders and rubbed her cheek.

"You looked like you needed it," Bo said and first now Gaga noticed how sad she looked. "It's Ryan, the vet has been over and I'm sorry but it's not… good news."

Gaga inhaled and took the phone and interrupted herself mid thought about Bo letting her sleep on the sound board. "Oh my god," she whispered instead and blinked when she felt her throat get thick. "Ryan?" she said and waited for the man to deliver his message. In short her horse was sick, and getting worse. Gaga had to go to Malibu to see her, but there was also the Critics' Choice awards tomorrow. She had to go home anyway and then back again.

She told Bo she wanted to leave immediately, and her friend put the things that she wanted with her in a bag and carried it out to her car. She sat with her head in her hands basically the entire ride back to Malibu. Her headache was soaring like a dull knife through her head and she had taken enough pain killers to knock out an elephant.

When she arrived it was dark outside and the mansion seemed deserted. Her driver stopped by the stable and she pulled herself out of the car. Bo took her bag and walked over to the house.

"I'll come inside in a while… In case she's on the safe side." Gaga said.

Bo looked at her friend's tiny shoulders pulled up to her ears and the baggy sweat pants that seemed like they would drop off her hips any second. Her feet were shuffling through the gravel like she wanted to avoid reaching the stables because she didn't want to know how bad it was.

She put the bag down and ran over to her, put her arm around her shoulders and followed her inside the welcoming warm light in the stable. "It's gonna be OK," she whispered against her ear.

"I hope you're right," Gaga mumbled and reached for Bo's hand when she saw Arabella lying down in her stall. Suddenly the horse looked so tiny, barely taking up any space on the floor. Gaga's staff had made sure she was as comfortable as she could be. Lots of straw and the mattress of shavings underneath her were new and soft.

Gaga's lack of proper sleep would most likely knock her out any second. She could feel her muscles protest every time she moved. The warmness of the animal, her shallow sleep. Gaga caressed the neck and listened to the hollow sound of the breaths. The horse noticed her, tried to raise her head and welcome her, but the effort was too much. Instead she sniffed her hands when Gaga put them over her mule and caressed her.

"They put her on a steady IV-drip to keep her calm," Ryan said and Gaga nodded. Her focus was solely on the horse by her side.

"Beautiful baby," she whispered and saw the ears wiggle, listening to her voice. "I'm so sorry."

\o/

"I know it's in a fucking hangar, but it'll be OK." Gaga tried to pose in front of the mirror. "The only thing not making this dress fall to the floor are my nipples!" she said.

"We can change it if you want to," her stylist Sandra said and pulled her eyebrows together and Gaga thought it looked like she felt sorry for her.

"No, I like it. I want to wear it. It'll be interesting if I step on it," she laughed and pulled it up a little. "Let's just pray they stay hard." She exhaled. "I can't breathe," she added and tried to take slow breaths. "I'm so nervous."

Everyone looked at her and she felt like they pitied her. Like she was being ridiculous.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so…" She felt her throat get thick and went 'no, no' in her head.

"Don't worry. Just enjoy the night. You already won." Bobby stroke her back and put his arms around her.

"Just let me know if anything happens. I don't want to be left in the dark," she said.

Bobby promised any updates on her horse Arabella would go straight to her and then they made themselves ready to leave the hotel for the award show.

Christian met her outside the hotel and she smiled at him. "Hi," she said and held his hand when she sat down in the car. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he replied. "You look fantastic. Listen, I-"

"Thank you," she said to cut him off.

We can't even have a conversation anymore she thought and looked out the window on her side. Christian held her phone and bag with her notes.

"I've been so busy I haven't had time to memorize anything. I mean I have made notes and if I have to get up there and accept an award I will have to look at a fucking piece of paper and I just…" She made a resigned gesture with her hands and shrugged.

Christian looked at her. "You will do great. I'm sure of it. It won't matter."

…

"Best Song…"

"…Shallow."

She heard the whispers from people around her but was still in shock by how amazingly the song resonated with people everywhere and the massive impact it had with the help of the movie.

Refusing to take any of these award winnings for granted she felt overwhelmed when the song was announced as the winner in its category. Having her feelings on the outside of her skin all night, she didn't have to search inside to get emotional over the win. They were all extraordinary and a testament to how hard work and dedication paid off.

Each time the song got acclaim and praise she felt like a valve was turned and letting some steam out. All winter everyone expected it to sweep and once all this started and she could start checking things off she was more and more relieved. If people thought she was extra then so be it, it was their problem. She got spoiled once and the next second she had it all thrown into her face. She was aware of how deceiving the business could be, and how they could screw you over for no reason at all.

"I don't know what is going on, but you could at least pretend to be happy for her." She heard the whisper behind her when she sat down after returning to her seat. She didn't see who it was, but saw how Christian's neck turned red and how he started shifting in his seat and looked to his other side, away from her.

Gaga thought how it probably was hard for him. He didn't know his place in all this, and felt removed from her. "You're part of the team," she whispered. "Enjoy the night at least." His scent somehow made her relax even if she felt like she was on the edge of a breakdown.

He looked down and felt her hand on his. She looked so different. He realized she had been stressed these last few days. But she always worked hard and seemed to be completely swallowed up by things she was so invested in. He just wasn't one of those things right anymore and he could sense the detachment. It was so evident and he realized she was distancing herself more than ever, even in public. People are gonna see we're not a couple, no matter what, he thought and noticed that he once again was somewhere completely else when he heard Best Actress being announced and felt her grip get harder.

Gaga was ready for another resignation like at the Globes. It was the award she wanted, what she had worked for several years in a row now.

Glenn Close - again, she didn't know if she was supposed to be happy for her or feel like a failure and sat there confused and empty for several seconds before it sank in that it was a tie. Then she felt her heart make frantic double somersaults inside her chest.

The possibility that it could be her turn made her go completely deaf during Glenn's speech when she waited for the other announcement. Her pulse kept hammering so loud when the name 'Lady Gaga' was read out loud that she could barely hear it. Everything happened so fast. Her heart felt like it shot up through her throat and she had difficulties breathing. She saw the Oscars in front of her and her mind was elevated into some blissful cloudy heavens. You're not there yet, she thought while her chest cramped.

Christian's arms shot up in the air, and she suddenly didn't know where to turn and then she stepped on the dress on her way to the stage. For a fraction of a second she feared it would be her Jackson Maine moment, that her dress would drop to her hips and she would stand there completely naked. Not that it bothered her, but the moment could hardly be any worse.

You're an actress now, she said to herself. But you're also Stefani and this is your dream. She swallowed, tried to gather her thoughts that were darting back and forth inside her brain and put them into words. She had longed for a moment like this. Yes, she was grateful for all the awards, but this… this was- and then she noticed they had the nerve to try and play her off the stage and she barely knew what she was talking about but that piano snapped her back into reality real quick.

She angrily turned her head to announce to the people on the side stage that she could definitely do this with a piano background. Her lips moved by themselves ahead of her brain and her hands trembled with the note in her hands.

…

When she returned from the press room, Bobby took her aside. The look on his face scared her. "What is going on?" she asked, firmly gripping the two awards.

"Arabella is getting worse by the minute."

Christian overheard them. "What's going on?"

"Arabella is getting worse," Bobby said.

Gaga covered her face in his hands and decided to leave straight away.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Christian asked.

"Do as you like, I don't give a fuck." Gaga hurried past him and tried to keep a straight face.

\o/

The whole night was a torture. The horse weakening every second and Gaga being torn between wanting it to end and for it to never end. At one point Arabella started breathing faster and her dark brown eyes seemed to roll around like she was panicking. Gaga felt the horse's heart beat faster and cried out for help.

"I think she's in pain," she shouted. Her tears streamed down her face. "Please, please, make it better." She let her hand stroke along the neck of the horse, trying to comfort and calm her down.

The vet increased the doze, Arabella calmed down but got weaker every minute. Gaga wanted to make her wake up, but by the morning she could see the light in the horse's eyes fade slowly and Gaga dug her fingers into her mane, pulled it and cried against the lifeless body.

…

Christian woke up and noticed that she had not slept on her side in the bed. He could still somehow sense her presence and looked towards the windows. Gaga sat outside with her legs against her chest and a cigarette between two fingers. Her hair fluttered a little in the slight breeze and the ash looked like a long gray twig, ready to fall off any second. She seemed lost in her own thoughts and twitched when he opened the doors and sat down next to her.

She raised her head and he looked into her bloodshot eyes. "Hey," she said and wiped her cheeks in case there were still tears.

"How is she?" Christian asked.

Gaga exhaled. "She's gone, Christian. She's…" Her voice cracked. "I saw how the life faded in her eyes. It was so… heartbreaking how I couldn't help her. I just sat there and I-" she choked up again.

"You know how human touch can calm people down, people who are lying in hospital beds, you can literally see how their bodies react to human touch, how they calm down and I'm sure she could sense all the love you poured over her. I'm so sorry, Stef."

"I don't know what to do," she said and he put his hand on hers. It was resting next to her on the couch and to his surprise she didn't pull it away. "I just didn't want her to feel any pain. She was so scared." She turned around and wrapped her arms around him. The tears made his t-shirt wet and he could feel her fingers dig into his shoulder.

He felt his throat get thick, thinking of how much Gaga had loved the horse and how he had laughed at her crazy but adorable ideas. How a void would be left when an animal you were used to passed away. He held her and let her cry until she felt like there were no more tears left. She pulled the collar of his t-shirt, started brushing it and apologized for making him wet.

How could he tell her how lovely it felt having her touching him, turning to him at this moment? He had to tell himself that he was comforting her, and it was his job even if she seemed so sick and tired of him right now. He was afraid that if he told her that he loved her right now, she would let him go. She would remember that she didn't want him anymore and leave him. Fuck, he was so desperate to keep her it was pathetic.

He wrapped her arm around her back and let it glide up to her nape and raised his chin to smell her hair. It was stiff from all the products she had used yesterday and wasn't washed. She turned her face up and let her lips nudge his. The stubble was rough against her soft, swollen lips and it made her feel something. His scent was familiar and comforting.

She pulled her head away. "No, stop. I can't. I just… it doesn't work that way."

"I love you, Stef." He said it anyway, nearly in panic, and raised his hand to her face.

"No, you have this idea of how we're supposed to be and it just isn't like that."

"This is exactly what I told you the other day!"

She raised her head and looked into his eyes. "Yeah, so maybe we have different views on what love is." Her voice was hard. "Do you think this is the right moment for this?"

Christian looked at his hands and started to pick the hairs on his arms. "I was just trying to comfort you."

"Right," she muttered and turned away from him.

He didn't want to leave her side so he sat there quietly while she lit another cigarette and stared at the sea.

\o/

Work. Always the best way to keep your mind busy when it wanted to stray into areas you didn't want to be. Gaga stepped off the plane and got into the car. It was early morning and she was scheduled to perform at Park Theater later that evening. Christian followed right behind her, suddenly having gained a bit of confidence back the last few days. Not that they had spent a lot of time together since The Golden Globes. Gaga was pretty much done with the whole thing and Christian lingering around her was getting on her nerves.

She subconsciously thought of ways to annoy him and considered going out or spend time with her band and dancers just so she wouldn't have to be alone with him and his prying eyes and questions. She noted that he had started to suspect something. Justin was texting her, Burns was texting her. But somehow he had developed a fixation on what the tabloids wrote. She had to laugh at the fact that when they did the press tour he did not care no matter how much she buttered Bradley in front of the press or how many rumors they started.

Some people had shown that they did not approve of the whole thing, but they really sold that movie and it had worked wonders.

She tossed the car door opened and got out of the vehicle. The air was chilly and dry. She wanted to get inside as quickly as possible and pushed the sun glasses up her nose and dove right into her villa inside the Mansion. Barely acknowledging the flowers on the table inside the massive hallway she made her way to the bathroom. She grabbed a bottle of water and noted that the massage table was already set up. She would have a bath and massage and then it would already be time to get back in the car and basically just travel across the intersection to Park MGM.

…

It felt so awesome to be back on stage and hearing the fans lose their shit while she gave them everything. After some aftercare, since her body apparently was falling to pieces, she would meet some of them. She did her usual strut inside the room and posed for their pics for a few minutes before it was time to get back to the Mansion again. Some wouldn't shut up and some didn't say two words but she was used to both and carried a tiny conversation even with the most star struck ones.

It was mind numbing and nice. She soaked herself in the compliments and smiled even if it already felt like she was on her third show of the week. She looked over her shoulder and waved at the few ones who still stood behind and collected their bags with merchandise. None of them looked at her and she sighed internally at how fickle the attention was. They got their moment, now they wanted to share it with their friends.

Bobby was right beside her. "Killed it," he said and gave her a wink as they entered the elevator to go back down.

She laughed and gave him a soft nudge with her elbow. "Thanks Bobby," she said.

Freddie took the wig as soon as she sat down inside the dressing room. Then she undressed and sat down on the couch in the middle of the room. The adrenaline was still pumping inside her and she felt a comfortable buzz.

\o/

By Sunday she had decided to get wasted after her jazz show and booked a whole bar and activities for her team. She showed up at midnight after everyone else had been busy for about an hour. She had looked exhausted after the concert since every minute she was awake she spent working and after that she gave it all for two hours on stage.

She wore a tight black dress that glittered in the lights by the bar. After all it's Las Vegas. The thin shoulder straps rested across her tanned shoulders and the low cleavage was tight and gave her tits a lift that she was especially content with. Her make up was subtle but still enhanced her cheek bones and made her lips look swollen and pouty. She smiled and sat down between Sarah and Bobby. Christian stopped behind her when there was no chair close to Gaga he walked all around the bar to the other side to find a place to sit.

She crossed her legs and let her thigh be visible through the slit. The dress reached her ankles but was a little bit too long, but she wanted to wear it anyway. Her eyelids had a glittery pinkish color and thin eyeliner. It really worked wonders and she looked more alive than she had done all week. She had her hair up in a bun and tiny little diamonds in her ears. She ordered a margarita and started chatting with Sarah.

…

After about 45 minutes she had managed to get hammered and could barely sit on the bar stool without slipping off it. At first she had not noticed anything and then the alcohol hit her like a ton of bricks. She started repeating herself and noted that her memory started to deceive her. When she went to the restrooms she had to support herself against the wall. When she looked into the mirror she told herself to "get a grip" – as if getting completely tanked wasn't her goal from the start.

When she came out, Christian waited for her. "You might want to consider slowing down."

"Oh really," she said and noticed that it was hard to articulate the words. And that was all it took for the argument to take off. Christian blamed Gaga for being an irresponsible drunk, throwing everything away and not being serious about anything, and Gaga told him to keep his nose out of her business. Several combinations involving the word 'fuck' left her mouth and even if she managed to keep her voice low it was impossible for people nearby to miss what was going on.

It all ended with Christian leaving her standing by the wall. He walked away with his eyes firmly focused on the pattern of the carpet on the casino floor so he didn't have to look anyone he met in the eyes. Gaga took shallow breaths and leaned against the cold wall. "Fuck," she spat out and closed her eyes. After that she disappeared into a haze of alcohol.

\o/

Gaga woke up and refused to open her eyes. Her whole world already consisted of different colors spinning around like a merry-go-round without her having to take in the surroundings using her eyes as well. Her mouth felt like it had been lined with sand paper and her forehead like she had banged her head against a concrete wall a few hundred times. She swallowed and instantly regretted it since she noticed how nauseous it made her. Lying completely motionless would be the best solution.

She opened her mouth and took shallow breaths trying to ease down her stomach. It was making subtle cramps and her mouth suddenly watered. When the worst nausea had settled she opened her eyes. She turned her head slowly and to her surprise she noticed someone sleeping face down in the pillow next to her. She squinted her eyes and tried to focus. A cold tingling feeling drilled down her back as she didn't recognize the features of the person next to her immediately. Her hand crawled out from underneath the comforter and scrambled across the bedside table for her glasses.

"I'm fucking blind," she mumbled and finally got her hands on them. She pushed them up her nose and looked at the man sleeping next to her. "And just who the fuck are you?" she whispered.

The man made a little snoring sound, turned around and faced the other way but didn't wake up. She continued to stare at him and raised herself up on her elbows and looked around the room. The massive bedroom revealed no other secrets so she got out of the bed and walked inside the bathroom. She was butt naked and glanced at her phone on the way. It was 10 am and she had a feeling she had been drinking until early morning.

When she sat down on the toilet she got memory flashes of how the night unfolded. She tried to recall the bar. "Oh no, Christian," she remembered and buried her face in her palms. He had left after their heated argument. She didn't recall if he came back, but only had to look at her phone again to see his hundred messages to realize that it had not happened. She had not opened any of his messages so it was safe to say she had not replied.

She vaguely recalled returning to the bar, even sitting on the bar, eventually also getting behind the bar and making drinks for everyone. She recalled making up some kind of rainbow cocktail and trying to make it layered, and doing so extremely well. Who had she been talking to? A face appeared in front of her and when she realized who it was she exhaled loudly and closed her eyes.

He had been on to her since he got assigned to her Las Vegas residency. The monitoring guy with the in-ear pieces that he couldn't shut up about. She even remembered his name; Dan Horton.

Fuck.

Gaga cleaned herself up a bit because she felt like she could feel the hangover seeping out of her pores. It was like breathing a little new life into her body when she washed her face. She didn't feel like she had sex, but still felt a little uneasy about dragging anyone back to her hotel.

She walked out into the kitchen and noticed the breakfast carriage that had been wheeled in through the staff entrance. She looked through all the plates. There were some bacon strips and slices of fruit that she picked out and hungrily stuffed into her mouth. She drank juice directly from a bottle and walked back into the bedroom with the bowls and plates.

She sat down on the bed and rested against the wall, still chewing on the bacon strips while she looked at the man next to her, wondering if Christian would come walking right in any second. Strangely enough it didn't even worry her or make her nervous. It's about time, she thought when Dan raised his head and looked at her through squinty eyelids.

"Good morning," he said while he exhaled and turned it into a yawn.

"Is it?" she said and put the plate down on the bedside table.

"How can you eat?" he muttered with his head buried in the pillow.

She scooted down a bit so she was closer to his face.

"You passed out," he said. "Nothing happened."

"That's a shame. And this room is supposed to be magic." She was somehow relieved he confirmed that they didn't have sex, but wondered how many guys her passing out would've stopped from carrying on anyway.

She smiled and moved closer. "I'm awake now." She raised her dark eyebrows so they turned into thick upside down v's above the frames of her glasses and Dan stared back into her eyes as if he couldn't believe who he had next to him.

She was naked apart from the glasses. The black frames had slipped down her nose and she pushed them back up. Her make up looked really lived in with the smudged eye liner and some lipstick remaining. He could see how her lips had been slightly overdrawn and the swollen lips parted when she smiled.

"Listen, umm…," he said and bit his lip. He had gazed upon all her naked glory yesterday. But even if it was mostly a blur, he still recalled how she had tasted and felt when they kissed. How soft she was and how she had laughed and pulled him along with her.

"Is it Christian?" she asked. She was lying on her side with her chin resting in her hand.

"No, you said it's over so I-"

She raised her perfect eyebrows again and he hesitated.

He narrowed his eyes again and rolled over on his back. "This is so fucking weird," he said and turned his face towards hers. She laughed, a deep, low, chuckling laughter. He was happy that she was happy, looked at her face and the loose hair falling down her cheeks and collarbones. He raised his hand to remove the hair from her cheek and then she stopped laughing and sucked her lip and looked into his eyes.

He reached behind her nape and pulled her close. Felt her lips against his and opened his mouth. His tongue felt coarse, but she didn't seem to mind. She put her hands on his shoulders when he raised himself up on his arms.

"I have a confession to make," she said and he paused halfway on top of her. "I don't remember a fucking thing from yesterday," she snorted out a laugh. "I'm sorry."

"OK," he said and let her go. "So we have to start over sort of?"

"Why are you here, Dan?" she asked.

"Oh, but you do know my name," he said and looked at her with a distraught smile. Then he continued, "You asked me to come with you." He was just about to get started and now she was asking questions. It was a little annoying.

"No, I mean, what made me ask that? Something must've caused a little spark." She raised her hand to her face and removed her glasses.

He watched her lying there, nearly drowning among the pillows and bedsheets. She was so beautiful. Her skin was without a single tan line, her visible collarbones and the slight dimple between them. He had kissed her there yesterday and she had giggled and the salty taste of her sweat had spread inside his mouth like a sweet drink.

"Honestly, I don't know," he said eventually. He felt her naked body against his. Her hands moved down to his boxers. "I complimented you a lot, I think." He raised his short, kind of sad eyebrows and looked like he was thinking hard. "What's not to compliment? You're smart, you're funny, you're beautiful and you're sexy." He sucked his lip and squinted his eyes at her.

"Fuck off. I would never have fallen for that," she said and looked into his eyes. They were really dark brown and his eyelids a little puffy.

She had an amazing smile. The lines by her cheeks and a little dimple on her right side.

"Did you chip your tooth?" he asked.

The smile disappeared and she licked her lips. She sighed and slipped under his arm and out of bed. He watched her narrow frame, the sculpted shoulder blades and the tattoos on her left side. He felt her tits against the inside of his arm and resisted the urge to touch her and pull her back into the bed.

She stood up and he watched her round butt as she walked over to a chair and picked up a nearly see-through robe that she swept around herself.

"Where are you going?"

She looked at him over her shoulder. "I'm gonna take a shower. Wanna join?"

He stared at her fully visible, perfect ass through the thin robe as she walked out of sight. "My god, you're such a tease," he muttered and tossed the comforter away and followed her into the bathroom. She dropped the robe on the floor and stepped into the shower.

She made it clear that she would not make any more invitations but he had to step forward if he was interested.

He opened the glass door after he had taken his boxers off and immediately let his hands glide down her shoulders. The warm water hit his back and she moved closer to the wall. He put his hands on her hips and she turned around. The warm drizzles bounced off her face when she raised her chin with her eyes closed. He kissed her while his hands moved up her belly towards her tits and the hard nipples. Bending forward, he placed his mouth over one and licked it. He caressed her body, everywhere he could reach. Felt her flawless skin and searched for imperfections that were't there.

His tongue inside her mouth, her gentle movements. The light moans when his fingers found the slit between her thighs. He moved two fingers against her clit, slowly up and down, a little lower with each stroke until he felt how the friction nearly disappeared and his fingers moved inside her. He felt her vagina tighten around his fingers and his thumb rubbed her pink nub as gentle as he could.

He kissed her neck, made her turn around and moved the hair away from her nape. It was very obvious that she enjoyed what he was doing as she let him move her around how he pleased and didn't object. In his head a thousand thoughts danced around, things he wanted to ask her, to talk to her about, he wanted to know all about her at once. But right now he had to settle with getting to know her body. Which obviously wasn't a bad thing.

She suddenly gave him a soap. A hard soap. "Don't drop it," she said and closed her eyes as he started to lather her entire body, down to her feet and between her toes. All the time he was so hard he thought he would pass out due to blood loss to the brain soon. He was thorough when he reached her butt, making a big deal out of stroking her cheeks and between them.

His hands moved over her belly, felt the little pout below her belly button and let his hands glide up to her tits. His fingers slipped underneath the fold and he noticed that her breasts felt more full than they looked. He cupped his hands and squeezed them and felt the soft flesh fill his hands and his thumbs gently rubbed over her nipples. Fuck, he wanted her.

Gaga felt his hands move gently across her body and didn't want it to end, even if she soon was so turned on she thought she would mentally bring herself to an orgasm just by anticipation. He knew exactly how to treat every tense spot on her body. It was like a massage. He knew when to go hard and when to play softer. She noticed that she was breathing through her mouth and how relaxed she was.

"My turn," she said when she considered him finished. He made a strange grunt and inhaled while he mentally prepared for her hands wandering all over his body. She let her hands glide across his chest and kept eye contact. He held his breath. Couldn't stand here with a belly pout, could he. She noticed and waited for him to exhale out of spite, then she grabbed his shaft and her lathered hands continued down, under his ballsack and he started taking controlled breaths.

The water ran between his asscheeks and down the back of his legs. She was standing out of range of the water when he made her lean forward and put a hand on her shoulder. She thrusted her ass towards him and he slowly penetrated her from behind. He put his hands on her hips, held her and pulled her towards him. The sensational feeling multiplied with each stroke. He pumped her as hard as he dared to, afraid that he might slip if he lost focus.

Her magnificent ass bounced against his crotch. Each shove ending deeper inside her. He moved his hand up to her neck, felt her hair between his fingers and grabbed it. The harder her fucked her, the more sounds she made.

His cock felt like it was inside her guts towards the end, the rapid movements and his grip in her hair. She could hardly move and when she came, and he continued his thrusts it made her nearly lose control. With nowhere to go she tried to keep her legs stable when the orgasm showered through her vagina and up through her belly. It felt like a thousand contractions rippled through her spine, down to her ass and pussy. The warmth spread like wildfire almost all the way up through her throat.

Dan pulled out and she heard him breathe faster, the wet thuds when he pulled a few last strokes and let his cum spill over the glittering wet tattoos on her tanned hip. The warm water hit her back and erased all traces within seconds, but he still had the beautiful image on his mind when she put her hands against the glass door to push herself up and turned around. She stepped closer and while he tried to calm down he put his hand on her cheek and kissed her.

"That was… undeniable the best… shower I ever had," he panted.

Gaga smiled that alluring smile she had been giving him since yesterday. The one he couldn't put his finger on what it meant. He was still breathing too fast when she turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. She tossed a towel into his arms and wiped herself dry. It took some time, like it was a meditational procedure not to be taken lightly upon.

Dan couldn't take his eyes off her. He stood there and wiped his chest without really knowing what he was doing. “You’re so damn perfect,” he said and made her look at him again. He stroke her hair and cheek and kissed her wet lips. She became soft in his arms and enjoyed his gentle kisses before she made him let her go so she could finish what she was doing.

She put the robe back on and started to struggle with a pulling a brush through her tangled wet hair while she walked out into the bedroom again. Dan heard noises from outside. It sounded like a door opening and footsteps and then he heard voices so he walked out with the towel around his waist to see what was going on.

"Where the fuck have you been?" was the first thing Gaga said when Christian appeared in the doorway.

"Have you even looked at the time? It's nearly 12 and you've just woken up? We're leaving soon. I have been calling you for an hour."

Their argument took off right where they left it yesterday. She glanced down at her phone on the table.

"Fine," she said when she saw the additional rows of missed calls and texts. She thanked the heavens she had it muted. "You could've come over here yourself or asked someone else if you're so concerned," she muttered and pulled the belt tighter around her waist.

Dan stood by the wall inside the bedroom with his underwear in his hands and snuck his legs into them. He was trying to blend into the decorated walls so he didn't disturb the other two. He felt like he was inside some massive Versace brain orgasm, gold and heavy curtains and vases and ornaments everywhere. He put his shirt on and started buttoning it when he noticed that Christian's eyes swept past the wall where Dan was standing. It was like it took a few seconds for the man's brain to register what he saw and when he did he turned towards Gaga.

"What the actual fuck, Stef!" he said. Even louder than before. "What the fuck happened here last night?"

"Nothing happened," she picked up a pillow and found her thong. She tossed it in the pile of clothes she had worn yesterday and looked up at Christian. With raised eyebrows she truthfully added, "I passed out."

Christian looked like he didn't believe that for a second. He pretended Dan didn't exist. "Maybe. But the intention was…" he said but didn't finish the sentence. He was worried, angry and hurt. This was not how it was supposed to end. He didn't even get a chance to make it right. "Can we talk about this later, without an audience?"

"There is no later, Christian. We're done." She had her back turned and looked for something to wear.

He, in turn, also turned away from her, refusing to accept her words and muttered, "Just get ready." He looked at Dan and pressed his lips together. "You work on the show. It's Dan, right?"

Dan nodded from his corner. Christian stood in the middle of the floor and looked like he wished he could undo the last 2 weeks by snapping his fingers.

Christian left them and walked out the door, firmly closing it behind him.

"I'm sorry about that," Gaga said and had eventually put clothes on from the rack by the windows. She looked stressed, but not because they would leave without her - as if that would ever happen. She wore sweatpants and a large hoodie and Dan was amazed at the fact that she could wear anything and still look like a gazillion dollars.

"It's so typical of him to just walk out instead of trying to sort it out." She was aware she had been doing the same thing these last few days, but it was easier to blame him now that she had a solution right in front of her in the shape of a man.

Dan stroke his fingers across his head and tried to make some kind of decent look out of the still wet hair.

"I thought you were… I mean you said-"

"Never mind, I'm glad it happened." She put her hands up and chopped once into the air in front of her.

"It's just a few days. Why are you leaving?" Dan asked and sat down to put his socks on.

"I want to go home."

"Won't he be there?" He nodded towards the door where Christian had left.

Gaga laughed. "He doesn't live with me. I would never let a man inside my palace." She gave him a glance and he noted her dark lashes and her massive eyelids. Her eyes were huge and glittered green when she met his gaze. Her wet lips were dark pink and soft. He saw her tongue when she pressed it against the inside of her teeth and looked thoughtful. She reached for her glasses on the table and put them on.

"I just need a smoke and I'm ready to go," she picked up a pack of cigarettes and put her feet into a pair of Uggs. She walked towards the front door and put her head down as she lit the cigarette and pushed the door open. The car was waiting outside and she took a long greedy drag before she placed her ass in the front passenger seat. She turned her head towards Dan who pulled out a phone from his backpocket so that he wouldn't look like an idiot just standing there.

She put the cigarette between her lips and took the phone out of his hands. She opened the app for messages, made a new message and put her number in. Then she gave him his phone back and blew a kiss. "See ya later," she said and the driver closed the door right in front of the speechless man.

Pt. 4: “I’m stuck in this bed you made.” |

#Lady Gaga #fanfic #fanfiction

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valhallamercury · 5 years

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bassist | boh rhap!john deacon x female!reader

Summary: Ever since you’ve met John, you’ve happily thrown yourself down the rabbit hole of falling in love with him. And honestly, how could you resist? He was kind, sweet, and not to mention handsome. Now the only problem: getting to go on a date with A/N: The requested part two of secretary, so make sure you read that before reading this! This was so much fun to write, tell me if you’d guys would like a part three! :) Warnings: none, except that this is unedited. Tag list: @lizgarxo @josephhmazzello @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl Word count: 1,994

After your first encounter with the dark-haired man, you had practically thrown yourself into a pit labeled “in love with John Richard Deacon.” Could anyone blame you though? Every time John came in with his friends to record their album, he always made sure to stop by and talk to you. He would tell you about the album and the boys, and you would tell him about how work was going and your pride and joy, which was your cat named Fleur. On bad days, he would make you smile. On some days, he brought you flowers, on others he brought you tea with compliments written on the cup. You dreamed of the day John would ask you out, and each day you would be let down when he didn’t. But you wouldn’t give up.

You sat at the front desk, organizing papers for Mr. Foster that needed to be done before noon. You checked the clock again. 10:34. You’ve got this, Y/N, why are you even worrying about it? You know you’ll have these done in 10 minutes, You thought to yourself. You knew the real reason behind your stress, though you wouldn’t admit it. You hadn’t seen John’s sunshine face in three days, making you worry that you had said something to upset him. A tap tap tap against your desk made your thoughts end.

You looked up, seeing a familiar smiling face. You’re little sunshine was back.

“John!” You exclaimed happily, his fond smile becoming contagious against your lips. “I haven’t seen you in a while, I was starting to worry something had happened.” You admitted, resting your head against the palm of your hand. Y/N, your papers, a voice in the back of your head nagged. You decided to ignore it.

“No, no, I’m perfectly fine. Really. We’ve just been so busy with the album, haven’t had much time to chat.” He explained shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Well, I’m glad to see your pretty face again. I’ve missed our little talks.” You smiled fondly at John, seeing his face light up to a bright pink color. It was a fun little game you liked to play: see how many times you could get John to blush. It definitely wasn’t one-sided though, for there were many occasions where Mr. Deacon had made your face go hot.

“I’ve missed them too.” John returned your smile, leaning his elbows against your desk as he conversed with you. You could tell something was off though; he looked as though he was trying to tell you something, but just couldn’t find the words. Finally, he spoke again.

“Hey, Y/N, I was wondering, what time do you get off?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was this finally your moment?

“I’m actually off tomorrow.” You replied, trying to remain ‘nonchalant sounding’ but you could tell that it hadn’t been too convincing.

“Well, what a coincidence! The boys and I have a day off tomorrow as well from pumping out songs for the album,” His signature dorky smile and pink cheeks returned, “I was wondering... well, I was wondering since we’re both conveniently off, if maybe you’d like to hang out tomorrow. Like, well, a date.”

It took all the strength in you not to jump up and down in excitement in that very moment. But, you controlled yourself. That didn’t stop the big smile stretching across your face though.

“I would love to go on a date with you tomorrow, Deaky.” You cooed. He grinned, a soft chuckle escaping through his lips.

“Great! Great.” He coughed, trying to calm his enthusiasm. “There’s this great tea shop I know that we can meet at,” He began, pulling a sticky note from your desk and writing down the address of the shop. He handed it to you, a bright smile across his features. You happily took the sticky note, folding it up and putting it in your jacket pocket.

“I’ll meet you there around 10-ish?” You asked, practically bubbling over with excitement. He nodded quickly, checking the time on his watch.

“I must be going, but I guess, I guess I’ll see you around?” He guessed giddily, slowly backing up as he walked backwards down the hall. You nodded, giving him a small wave.

“See you tomorrow, Deaks.”

He grinned, turning around completely as he ran down the hall. You watched him run, seeing him pump his fist up in delight. You saw his three friends come out from behind some furniture of the main lobby, congratulating him. You giggled behind your hand before looking back down at your paperwork once more.

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

Tap, tap, tap, tap

You blended your base in with your fingers, making sure everything was smooth and even across your face. Even in the most stressful of times, doing makeup had always calmed your nerves. However, you couldn’t stop the butterflies fluttering across your stomach or the way your face would heat up at the thought of John and the date that was in less than an hour.

You tapped a soft powder across your face, setting the base. You smudged a shimmery eyeshadow across the lids of your eyes, brushed mascara through your top and bottom lashes, and ran a clear mascara through your brows to hold them down. You applied a thick clear gloss across your lips, swiping some off your skin when you went a bit over the lines.

Now the only problem you were faced with: what to wear. Everything you tried on just seemed to either be too much or not enough. You finally decided on denim overalls that were embroidered with elegant pink flowers, a long-sleeved pink and red striped shirt, and red Chuck Taylor All Stars.

“How do I look?” You turned, looking at your cat Fleur, who laid sprawled out across the bed. She lifted her head up, letting out a soft meow, before laying back down. You took that as a sign of approval.

You only had fifteen minutes or so to get to the tea shop, so you decided to head out early.

You made your way through the bustling streets of Britain, before finally stopping in front of the quaint little shop. With five minutes to spare, might you add.

You looked around before spotting John’s familiar long locks. The man had his head in a book, tapping his finger along to the beat of some song as he read. You smiled a bit to yourself, shaking his head. You walked over, standing in front of his booth.

“Is this seat taken?” You asked playfully. John looked up at you, a fond look appearing across his face.

“It’s all yours.” He joked back, making you giggle. You sat down across from him, crossing your ankles out of habit. Your Gran had made sure that you always remembered to cross your ankles, not your legs. That was the proper way to do it, you could practically hear her remark.

“This place is lovely, the scenery is so quaint and cute.” You remarked, smiling as you looked around. The shop was decorated like some sort of Woodstock-esque design. There were posters of the Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and many more artists. It had flowers of all sorts of varieties hanging from pots and vases across the store, giving it a lovely dash of color in all the right places. The room smelled of different variations of tea, all of which smelled exceptional.

“Well, I remembered you telling me so much about how much you loved tea and flowers, so I thought this might be a good place to go.” He said softly, looking back at you shyly through his lashes. You felt your face heat up. No one you had ever been with had been this considerate.

“You’re sweet, Johnny.” You smiled, resting your hand on your chin as you looked at the flower vase in front of you. “They really should switch the dandelions with those pink asters. The pink would compliment the goldenrods better.” You said, looking at the flowers in front of you. John raised his brows, but his smile never leaving.

“You really know your stuff, huh?”

You looked down at your feet for a moment, letting out a chuckle. “I guess you could say that. I’ve been wanting to be a florist since I was young because my Gran was a florist. She taught me all about different flowers and the way things would compliment each other and all sorts of things. My parents didn’t really think I should become a florist, they said there was no money in it and that people don’t buy flowers anymore.” You shrugged, looking back up at the dark-haired man who had been listening intently. “Besides, if I had been a florist, I would’ve never met you.”

He smiled at you warmly, glancing at the vase. “Well, I think you should go for it. There’s no shame in trying.” He appealed, looking at you with his soft brown eyes that made you melt. “You’d be perfect at it. You have a cat named Fleur, for God’s sake.” He teased, a playful grin tugging at his lips. You giggled, rolling your eyes playfully and gently tapping his foot with your own.

“Do not make fun of my cat, Deacon.” You scolded jokingly, a laugh escaping from the two of you. Once the laughter settled down, it was your turn to listen intently. “Well, since you know everything about me, why don’t you tell me things about you?” You asked, arching one of your brows.

He raised a brow in return, his chin resting on the palm of his hand. “Well, what would you like to know?”

You tapped your chin, thinking for a moment. “Favorite color? Favorite music artist? Hell, you haven’t even told me what instrument you play in your band.”

“Well, my favorite color is black. Favorite musical artist? Probably Hendrix or the Beatles. And I play bass.” He spoke softly, looking into your eyes as he spoke.

“That’s all?” You said as you looked at him, gently tapping his foot with your own. “C’mon, Deaks, there’s gotta be more to you than long hair and a pretty face.”

His cheeks turned pink, tapping your foot with his in return. “Pretty face, huh?” He blushed, your feet now in an all right war with each other. “I was born August 19th, 1951. I have a band with my best mates, Freddie, Brian, and Roger. I like electronics. I love soul and funk music. I love to tinker. Doesn’t really matter with what, but I’m always fiddling with something around the studio. I also know that I’m on a date with the girl of my dreams and talking to her makes me nervous and giddy at the same time.”

You felt your face heat up, you knew immediately you were giving the man heart-eyes. “You truly are wonderful, Deaky.” You smiled, reaching over and timidly placing your hand over his. He smiled, interlocking your fingers as he returned your fond gaze.

You turned to face the window, seeing the rain pour down against the window. You took a deep breath, turning back to John with a sad gaze. “I should be going soon, before the rain gets any worse.”

John frowned, glancing outside. “I’m not letting you walk home in the storm. It’s too awful.” He began, glancing down at your interlocked hands, before looking at you once more. His cheeks had turned an even deeper shade of pink. “My place isn’t far, if you’d like to stay there for the night. Only if you’d like though. Otherwise I could surely walk you home.” He added quickly, looking down at your hands.

You smiled a bit at him, reaching over with your free hand and grabbing his other. He looked up at you, and you gave him a loving look. “What are we waiting for, Deaks? Let’s go.”

#john deacon x reader #John Deacon #john deacon imagine #boh rhap!john deacon #joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #Queen #queen band #queen imagines #queen band imagine #bohemian rhapsody #boh rhap #roger taylor x reader #brian may x reader #freddie mercury x reader

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ultsracha · 5 years

Text

Idol!Changmin (Q) x Model!reader Fluff

Anon: Yes! We need more the boyz writers! If I may request, could you write a bulletpoint piece model!fem reader and idol!changmin/q meeting and falling in love? ❤️ A/N: Ahhh thank you for the request! changmin is my bias and so i would absolutely love to write for him so im glad this was requested. *disclaimer* this is the first thing ive written in a very long time and im sure it’s not the best, im sorry for that but hopefully i made up for it with adding other members cracky content as well <3

being a model was never what you intended to do when you grew up but you started posing for photography students during school and from there more and more people want to take your picture

now, 3 years later it’s a whole career and you get to work alongside some amazing brands and creators to promote stuff

one week, you were sent to seoul for a shoot with numerous other people to promote a clothing brand

usually you didn't mind flying out to new places, in fact it was the best part of the job once you got over the language barrier

but this time, you were completely alone, your manager couldn't come due to family problems and all of your friends had work

so you were completely alone going to this event

and little did you know it wouldn't just be a small shoot, tons of people were there from all over the world

they had actors, singers and models from tons of different places and companies

and most of them were older than you which made things more stressful

so, first day there and everyone’s being told their schedules and what they need to be doing

when you’re given your schedule you see you’ve been put on the same shoot as a boy group and a handful of other models

not that you minded because maybe you could make some friends seeing as you’d be there for a while

luckily your shoot wasn’t for a while as they didn’t choose you as one of the major people involved with the project so you ended up in a backroom with a few other people minding their own business

it was reasonably quiet in the room, people chatting away and on their phones until the door burst open and a group of boys walked in

all of them were, well

very very very very cute

its uwu time

no wonder they’d been picked for this project, who wouldn't want something modelled by them

They walked in together, one following behind the other. The final boy to walk in looked around at everyone until his eyes met yours

and when i say awkward eye contact, i mean awkward eye contact for about 6 seconds before he accidentally walked into his group member in front of him

followed by some profuse blushing and apologising

they proceeded to disperse into the room and sit down

the one who made intense awkward eye contact lingered for a second, looking around before settling into a seat opposite you

Now there were around 18 people all sat together, not really talking very much

and the air was, awkward.

Until the organiser of the event came in to introduce himself and explain what you were all meant to do

The whole time he was introducing himself you felt someone looking at you, but whenever you searched everyone's faces no one was looking

everything was going fine and dandy until the guy explaining the concepts and the activities you guys would be doing for the shoot asked everyone to introduce themselves one by one

it wouldn’t usually be a problem, you’re a confident person and modelling has certain helped that but when surrounded by so many beautiful humans it’s scary as hell

so, they all introduced themselves. one of the members called Hyunjoon even threw in a cheeky wink at the end of his introduction

like who ??? let you be so cute

but then it came to the one who held the awkward eye contact

he seemed dead set on never looking at you ever again after that first moment up until the second he stood

he looked right at you as he introduced himself

explaining that he didn't mind being called Q or Changmin

what a freaking cutie pie

when it was your turn you felt the most amount of butterflies in your stomach since probably your first kiss back in primary school

introducing yourself as calmly as possible, only looking up from the floor briefly to see Changmin staring into your eyes with keen interest

oof that was enough to set your heart on fire

Finishing your introduction of where you’re from and how old you are, you sat down quickly feeling the heat in your cheeks increase when you saw two of the boys whispering together

once the man was gone it was a lot easier for everyone to chat and discuss how they thought the project would turn out, excited to be part of such a unique shoot

Changmin was glancing your way every few seconds, looking like he was having an internal battle with himself

You decided to just be a bad bitch and go speak to him yourself

he was with Hyunjoon anyway and you needed to congratulate him on winning the best introduction of the team award!!

when you got there they both abruptly stopped talking and looked at you, waiting with wide eyes for what you were going to say

“so you’re part of a boy group yeah?” you ask

might as well ease in gently yanno

they both looked at each other before Hyunjoon answered and began explaining their roles in the group

he explained in great length that Changmin was the main dancer

speaking very briefly of the other members in order to explain that Changmin can sing and dance so well and he’s super amazing with fans

Changmin all the while stood there blushing and trying to disagree with him

honestly a sweet but strange interaction

until finally Hyunjoon was called away by another member of the group

leaving just you and Changmin alone

you’d moved to a couch nearby by now so for a few moments you sat there admiring him as he watched Hyunjoon walk off

when he turned back he rushed to say “I’m sorry about him, he loves to hype us all up. I’m not really that cool’

“No, I think you’re pretty cool...” You shrug, trying to pass off the compliment slyly which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

A faint blush was working it’s way up his neck when the organiser walked back in with 3 sheets of paper

“I can see you’ve all got to know each other more and now, I want you to divide yourself into teams as evenly as possible. I don’t want all the girls put in one team though because there are less of you”

He then leaves the sheets on a table and walks off again leaving you to find the courage to ask Changmin if he’d want to be in the same team as you

Because I mean you’ve only known him for about 45 minutes but he’s already showed how sweet he is and you can’t help but feel excited at the idea of spending the next few days working with him

“So would yo-”

“Hey could w-”

You both tried to ask each other to be on the same team in the exact same second

Both of you burst into laughter and write your names on the paper one under the other still giggling the whole time

The rest of the morning goes by just like this, giggling together and gradually getting to know one another more and more

by the time the afternoon rolls around he’s basically your best friend

You both love the same movies, same books, enjoy similar music

Even as hair and makeup is being done you don’t stop talking and giggling

Lets be real here, a crush was growing

It’s like within the space of 4 hours you’d become inseparable

When the photos were being taken your teams connection together was so genuine

Working for a brand that’s entire concept is friendship and having fun together it was hardly surprising that the laughter didn’t end there

The rest of the time you were there your cheeks never stopped hurting from how much you smiled and laughed

Not just from Changmin but also from all of his groupmates too

Such a wonderful, fun group of people to be around

You truly felt like one of them by the end of the shoot

but lets not ignore the lingering glances you and Changmin exchanged, or how he always managed to find an excuse to be stood with you and how whenever he’d walk you to your hotel room door he would try and make the conversation last as long as possible and always, always end the night with a hug

okay lets be real again, a crush had definitely formed, grown up, moved in and was now decorating the kitchen in your heart

Like you couldn’t get enough of his happy energy and humour

At the end of the final shoot when you’re all stood around talking and laughing Changmin grabs your arm and pulls you away

Clearly you don’t resist because like anyone would accept some alone time with Changmin

Gently he leads you to a couch in the corner of the room and sits down

His cheeks are already rosy when he starts to speak, his hand starting to get clammy against your own

“y/n, will you go on a date with me?” he blurts out quickly and then opening his eyes wide as if he was surprised he said it

and in that moment

your heart

burst and stopped and did a trip round the globe

“Of COURSE” you literally scream

His face lights up immediately and he jumps up hugs you quickly and darts off back to the others

you hear them all cheer and see them start hugging and pushing around a very, very blushy Changmin

Later that evening he arrives at your hotel room door, still wearing that same red hue on his cheeks

You go to the arcade together and the whole evening is wonderful

it’s no different than how you guys have spent time together the last few days but this time Changmin insists on holding your hand every second

As well as hugging you from behind when its your turn on the claw machine

Unfortunately you claw machine skills are...

Limited

But of course, your knight in shining hoodie and jeans swoops in and wins you the stuffed animal you really wanted

After you’d played every arcade game and taking endless amounts of cringey pics of each other you walk home slowly still hand in hand

“You know, I’m really glad I met you” he states out of the blue, still looking ahead of him

“Me too, I feel so complete with you around me” you reply back, swinging your joined hands slightly

From then on, you were never apart

Literally like the brand you did the shoot for hired you permanently for big moneys and a promise of a successful modelling career a few weeks after your first date with Changmin

Which you graciously accepted for only that reason

Not the fact the love of your life happened to live down road from your new apartment

and all you wanted to was hold his and forever

plus the rest of the group fully accepted you as one of their own

like seriously it was hard to find any moments alone with your boyfriend when hanging out at the dorms because hyunjae liked to ask what you’re doing every 3 minutes

as well as father maknae line demanding your attention every second you were there

not that you complained about any of it

because who would complain about a family like that

and a boyfriend like Changmin

really out here living your best life huh

#im back bitches #im sorry to disappoint #the boyz #the boyz fluff #tbz #tbz fluff #changmin #tbz changmin #the boyz q #tbz imagine #the boyz au #the boyz scenario

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magic5ball · 3 years

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Nature Trail to Hell Arc IV: Megamart of Darkness (10)

Chapter 10: Bokrug vs. A-Bomb vs. Watt! Ultimate Deathmatch!!!

Despite having only golf clubs, A-Bomb was fearless. A reckless sort of fearlessness that leads one to charge a 25 pound, machine gun toting mass of unadulterated avian fury.

A fearlessness that would only make sense if your opponent was playing right into your hands.

“Bokrug! Look out!”

By the time the last word left my mouth, it was too late. A-Bomb teed off on Bokrug’s jaw, sending the gander flying. The machine gun clattered to the ground, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. All that was left was for A-Bomb to start teeing off on Bokrug’s downed carcass, which he gleefully did. Repeatedly. And it looked very painful, so painful it scared me out of mini golf for life. Even so much as touching a club gives me memories of the poor goose’s gasps of pain.

“Please, my child.” He begged “You may have fallen far, but the kind, innocent boy I once knew is still in there. I can feel it!”

“Really? Because my internet history says otherwise!”

If Bokrug wasn’t getting hit before, now he’d been reduced to the world’s downiest piñata. And yours truly could only watch helplessly as his physical form looked like it was gonna explode into a million bloody pieces any second, too glued to my seat (literally) to do anything. Or was I? Because A-Bomb had only glued the bottom of my seat. If I could only wriggle out of my pants…

Gotta give credit to Bokrug: he held out much longer than I thought he would. But even dinosaurs fall with enough beating, and before long A-Bomb was standing triumphantly over his kill like some African big game hunter. Right as I was able to slip out of my pants. Though when you consider I was wearing my pachyrhinosaurus underwear, the exact same smelly pair I’d been wearing since I’d left camp, this may have made my problem much, much worse.

A-Bomb laughed loud and deep at the sight, his face turning a deep red. This must have gone on for several minutes, him constantly on the verge of chortling his lungs out, myself too strawberry red to move. Then, once he’d spit out enough chuckles to speak again:

“A-are you kidding me?!“He pointed at me like some schoolyard bully. “Of all the dinosaurs you get monogramed on your underwear, you chose the NERD one?!”

I breathed deep. “Pachyrhinosauus is an amazing and criminally underrated member of the ceratopsian clade! In addition, it is woefully underrepresented in museu-”

A-Bomb thought that was a regular knee slapper.

“Kid, everyone knows the only reason they throw Pachyrhinosaurus in museums is so they can reach their diversity quotas! Yy-you are such a pathetic NERD!” Another fit of laughter later, he added “I-I can’t kill you like this!”

He snapped his fingers, summoning a legion of brown bagger clones armed with those dumb laser scanners to circle us.

“How about this? For making me laugh, I’ll let you escape! Heck, I’ll throw in a 30 second head start, free of charge!”

The Brown Baggers joined their master’s jeering, lest they be sent to the unemployment line (AKA Pete’s Slaughterhouse). Speaking of the Master, he pulled a bottle of Crystal Springs Water from his khakis and began chugging like he’d hadn’t drunk in a week, the power coursing through his veins.

I should have run, run like the pathetic wimp I was. But I didn’t. Because at the end of the day, you can steal sacred water from roleplaying geese. You can threaten to turn me into a corporate slave. You can bludgeon a close friend of mine within an inch of his life with and force me to watch. Heck, you can even force me to watch Carney the dinosaur sixty hours straight if you wanna! But nobody, and I mean NOBODY, makes fun of my pachyrhinosaurus underpants and lives to see the next sunrise!

Instead, I dashed for my pants, thirty seconds ticking away fast. Ten seconds in, I was pulling the packet of grow dinosaurs from my pocket. Another ten I got the stupid wrapping off.

Nine…

I remembered what Bokrug had said about the water, how it was enchanted and whatnot.

Eight…

Problem was, I had no idea where the real water was. The only one I knew was the real deal was being held by A-Bomb, and I sure wasn’t getting there.

Seven…

Unless… I looked at the sad water fountain, spurting alone between two shelves. Maybe the water of the sacred spring wasn’t in a bottle at all.

Six…

I concentrated. No going back now. No regrets…

Five…

A red pill rocketed through the air, a glorious, million dollar shot. A million glowing red darts marked themselves on me.

Four…

Three seconds. Four tense, terrible seconds of that pill riding the wind, right to the rim of the water fountain, teetering on the edge until, at last, the Luck of the Tostigs pulled through, and that baby went right down the drain.

Three, two…

Something pushed out from inside the water fountain, something BIG!

One…

Shrapnel exploded from where the water fountain had once been as a giant sponge triceratops burst out, alien style. The beast charged, plowing down brown baggers like they were blades of grass. As for A-Bomb, he didn’t even get a chance to set a stupid expression on his face before he was reduced to a red stain on the tile floor. And from where that water fountain once stood, the sacred spring gushed forth, coating the rest of the little sponge grow capsules, turning them to life-size dinosaurs. Not missing a beat, I hopped on the triceratops, and gave it a little bit of Tostig family advice:

“CHAAAARRRRGGGGGGEEEEEE!”

And boy howdy, did we! With a bellow that shook the foundations of the Wegmart, the triceratops launched fifty employees so high they left little brown bagger shaped holes in the ceiling! Heck, if I hadn’t used my toe claws to lodge myself in its’ skin, I might have been tossed into the next state!. Meanwhile, where the water of the Sacred Sprinng showered on Bokrug, he changed, wings becoming massive muscular arms, a wide sail growing on his back, his face becoming long and crocodilian, feathers became scales. A form I would recognize anywhere: Spinosaurus Aegyptus.

The brown baggers scattered. One dinosaur they could handle, but thirteen? Not a chance! Together, we watched the remaining five or so survivors flee into the stock room as we posed epically on a thousand foot mountain made of their corpses. Any that weren’t fast enough were picked up in Bokrug’s massive jaws and flipped up into the air, only to be swallowed whole like gingerbread pancakes! Our remaining troops, few as there were, flocked to join us.

We’d won.

The words felt weird on my lips, my brain still trying to grasp what just happened.

We’d won.

Yet I couldn’t deny it: somehow, we’d kicked out the most powerful company in Pennsylvania.

“WE’VE WON!”

Bokrug bellowed majestically into the air, his voice ancient and primeval The rest of the birds, dinosaurs, shopping carts, and whoever else was in our slapdash army joined in:

“WE WON! WE WON! WE WON!”

And they carried me out of the store on their wings like I was some kind of rock star.

. . .

That night, we partied. And by partied I mean set out the spoils of our war (snack chips and pretzels, mostly) while everyone stood awkwardly around the punch bowl, not knowing what to say (for guys who wore party hats all the time, LARP geese sure don’t know how to hold a conversation). Bokrug especially seemed interested in going to the little dino’s room and staying there a really long time. As for me, I stared into one of the barbeque fires we’d set around the place for lighting, plotting my next move. Hilda and whatever we’d put in Ms. Hoebag’s body were running the camp like a Siberian Gulag; in the middle of it all was my ticket back to reality, and by extension, my Gameboy Advance.

And, y’know, Mom was probably worried sick about me.

After half an hour of brisk walking, I found the bathroom door. I knocked twice.

“Bokrug, you in there?”

“My apologies,” bellowed the dinosaur, “but it seems as a final act of resistance, the minions of darkness burned all the toilet paper, so that we may never properly use their waste depository facilities.”

Sighing, I shoved some party napkins under the door.

“These do not seem to be the papers I seek. Are you certain these will work?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

One flush later, Bokrug barreled out, knocking the door off its’ hinges.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I replied, heading in myself.

Bokrug cocked his head to the side, the way birds do when they’re curious.

“And why would you leave paradise? With the waters of the Sacred Springs in our grasp, we shall soon surpass even the empire of Tako Shak in power!”

I shook my head, strategically positioning Mr. Weenie over the dung pit, letting loose. Bullseye. “Bok, I want to stay, but my Mom and Gameboy are at home, and I’m sure as heck my dirty rotten little brother isn’t going to give them company.”

The dinosaur could only stare in awed amazement as I epically exited the loo, piece of toilet paper attached to my shoe. “Long story short, I’m going to summer camp. Wanna join me?”

The dinosaur shook his crocodilian head. “While the idea of devouring communist elementary schoolers does pique my interest, my responsibilities are to my people. I cannot leave them leaderless at such an incredible time.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, feeling a little bit damped down. “There’ll be all the communist turds you can eat.”

“Watterson, you have helped me when I needed it most, but you have your family, and I must care for mine. Surely, you understand?”

And for the first time I thought about how I had left Hilda at summer camp. I wondered how she was holding on now that Shatner and I had left.

But before I could head on my way, the old water lizard had one last surprise in store for me. “However, there is one gift I can give you.”

Holding out a scaly hand, I saw the grow capsules I’d filched off Wegmart, now turned into tiny sponge dinosaurs that galloped across he palm.

“My apologies, they shrunk in the sun.”

You’d think I’d be upset, but I wasn’t worried. Not at all.

. . .

And so we went on our quest: me and twelve grow-sponge saurian mercenaries from hell. We walked along a dirt road for about twelve hours before, as luck would have it, along trundled a Systo delivery truck, the same kind that delivered the crap food to camp. Hitchhiking wasn’t as hard as I thought (having dinosaur claws makes you surprisingly persuasive!), and soon me and the dinosaurs were crammed into a cardboard box in the semitrailer.

And so I sat in the dark, curled up inside a cardboard box meant for Styrofoam containers trying to formulate the master plan to get my body back. And by formulate a master plan I mean trying not to laugh at the Spongeboy jokes that would randomly pop into my head and focus, darn it!

Instead, I found myself drifting to sleep as the truck rolled across the winding backroads leading to fate, to destiny, to the thing that had started this all…

Summer Camp.

(Okay, so maybe I started it all by putting firecrackers in Dad’s cereal, but hey, I wasn’t the one who forced a young, innocent mind to watch Barney the ‘Dinosaur’. ‘Shudder’)

Part IV: MegaMart of Darkness: End

(Author’s Note: To everyone who’s read this far: thank you for hanging with me all this time! It really does mean a lot to me! Anyways, as it stands, I’m not quite happy with the final arc, so I’ll be taking a month’s hiatus to maybe fine-tune it a little bit. Until then, thank you so much for staying with this story, and see you soon!)

#My writing #Nature Trail To Hell #bokrug #supermarket #geese #summer camp

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tobedeletedwayward · 7 years

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Fruition || Jimin

Request:

Summary: Guys and girls can be friends without talking much. Guys and girls can be roommates without falling in love. Park Jimin likes to prove you and the facts of life wrong form time to time.

Word Count: 2,603 I THINK THIS IS THE LONGEST THING IVE WRIRTTEN AHSDAH

A/N: Ahaha guess who crawled out of their cave? This loser. Sorry for being AWOL these past few weeks, Imma be real and say that it was not a pretty picture up in my head . In order to make up for that, I am clearing the To Do List, starting with this request. It’s not as intimate as the request outlined but damn if it isn’t cute. Enjoy, and sorry again~

Go in there [Y/N], just get it over and done with.

‘But I can’t...’

Why are you so freaked out? You won’t be bothering them, hell maybe you’ll be helping!

‘It sounds really serious, I can’t interrupt them – that’s just rude.’

It’s your own fucking apartment. Just walk in there and ignore them as you pass by!

Your internal monologue ended as you sighed at your own stupidity. Of all the counter arguments you had come up with over the past ten minutes, nothing would be the logic your own mind bestowed upon you.

With a definitive huff you pulled your keys from your bag and went to unlock your front door, only to have it thrown open by an angered yet familiar woman. She blinked once, then twice, and let the anger dissipate momentarily to greet you.

“[Y/N], always good to see you.”

“Same goes to you Soomin.” You answered politely, watching as she turned around and spat out another aggressive farewell to the person inside before barrelling past you down the stairwell.

When the heavy footfalls faded into the air, you finally willed yourself to look into your apartment, ready for whatever mess you knew you’d be cleaning up.

The cushions were thrown off the couch and the pile of textbooks you’d left earlier that morning were strewn across the floor. There wasn’t a distinct pattern; rather it seemed that whoever threw them had been aiming at someone rather than something.

Admittedly, it wasn’t the worst battleground you had come across.

“I...will clean this one up...”

You let your gaze wander to your roommate, one of his hands resting on his hip while the other ruffled his dark hair. You shrugged.

“Whatever man, it’s your break up.” You answered with fake apathy.

Jimin chuckled, thankful that you didn’t give him the sympathetic bullshit most people tended to dish out in these circumstances.

“If you do need to have a good cry, there’s ice cream in the freezer. Go nuts.”

With a final smile, you exited the lounger room and retreated into your bedroom for the evening.

You didn’t catch the endearing smile plastered across your roommate’s face.

“Why did you tell me Jimin and Soomin broke up?”

“I didn’t think it was that important.”

“Of course it is- you’re his roommate and you have details!”

You didn’t bother answering, instead opting to keep your eyes on the required reading for your lecture the following day.

“I’m not fuelling that weird gossiper tendency you have when it comes to him, [Y/F/N],” you deadpanned, “besides you heard it from Soomin herself and she obviously isn’t being discreet about it, acting like its big news and all.”

[Y/F/N] rolled their eyes at you, directing their full attention back towards their own textbook for a brief second, all before glaring at you once more.

“Do you know why they broke up though? Like, you had to have heard something about it from either of them?”

‘Oh you don’t even know the half...’ You thought, replaying the many conversation you had heard that day and the many that had culminated towards their breaking point in the weeks prior.

“I don’t know, it was probably similar to Jimin’s last break up with Jane or whatever.” You answered vaguely, much to [Y/F/N]’s dismay

They knew you had answers, but you weren’t the type to eavesdrop and tell. Especially considering the fact that breakup territory wasn’t your place – even if around a quarter of their fight revolved around you and your roommate’s friendship

It fell silent between you both, only being broken up by the sounds of pens scratching across paper or the shifting of wooden legs across tiles.

The quiet wouldn’t last for long though, you knew that much. [Y/F/N] was too curious and inquisitive in all the wrong ways.

The quiet had lasted a solid four hours and was broken by the time you had agreed to grab a late dinner with them.

You wouldn’t admit that you were impressed with their newfound self restraint.

“Okay but doesn’t Jimin talk to you about things? What kind of roommate doesn’t talk about something like this?”

“Pretty sure that wasn’t in the ad he put up when he was looking for a roomie.” You flicked through the menu, eyes dancing across the words. “You’re good with Set B right cause I’m in the mood for beef.”

[Y/F/N] ignored you.

“So you don’t talk to each other at all?”

“Of course we talk; we’re friends, we just don’t intrude on each other’s personal lives like that.”

“Then what’s the point in being friends if you don’t know what’s going on in their lives.”

“It’s about respecting each other’s privacy and boundaries.”

“It’s boring.”

“It’s polite.”

[Y/F/N] groaned at your response, a few heads turning at the sudden intrusion of noise. You nodded apologetically towards the other patrons before redirecting your attention to your friend.

“What is it you want from me [Y/F/N]? Do you want me to exploit my situation so you can help fuel the gossip wheel that only ever seems to turn whenever Park Jimin is involved? If that’s it, then you’ll have to find someone else to do the dirty work.”

You locked eyes for a while, only yielding when something hit you directly in the right shin that rested underneath the table. You yelped in pain, quickly checking to see their foot still aimed in your direction.

“Listen, [Y/N],” they began, “you wanna know what the common thing is that all of Jimin’s exes have said about their breakups?”

You didn’t answer.

You had a pretty good understanding from things you’d always overheard; Jimin was always busy, Jimin had some habits that weren’t particularly favourable, Jimin had some form of attention on him whether he wanted it or not, and Jimin should move in with them since it made more sense for people romantically involved to live together rather than random people who wanted to save some money while they studied.

[Y/F/N] sighed, leaning forward on the table with their elbows dangerously close to the inactive grill. “They’ve all said that you were the main reason.”

You pressed a finger against your companion’s forehead, watching in wrinkle as you applied pressure. “Yeah, because they want to live with him since they’re the one dating him.” You answered. “They’ve also said Jimin rolls in his sleep and whacks them in the face – that’s another solid reason to dump someone if you ask me.”

“You’re an absolute idiot.”

“Thank you, can we order Set B now?”

“[Y/N]-” There was a hint of a small vein protruding from their forehead in frustration, and you tried not to laugh lest they lash out at you. They sighed and regained what they had left of their composure.

“They’ve all said you always come between them, and that Jimin always sides with you which are why they break up in the first place. And that’s why I always ask about it; because there’s something going on that you don’t know about. And I’m worried that your name will keep getting dragged around without you fighting back.”

Your narrowed your eyes at them. “If I wanted a trope-y love story I would be at home watching one of my shows.” You retorted, making them groan at your stubbornness.

“You aren’t denying the possibility of it-”

“And it’s such a slim possibility that I don’t even want to consider it because it’s stupid.” You dropped the menu in front of you, exasperated at your friend’s look of disbelief. “At best, we’re tier 1 friends meaning that whatever Fanfiction story you’re brewing in your head is impossible.”

“It makes sense though, doesn’t it? Even if it’s not a full blown romantic attraction that he has, he has to like you more than a friend or a roommate since every girlfriend has – for lack of a better phrase – seen you as a problem.” You huffed, indignant at her explanation. You didn’t want to admit it, but they had a point. Your name frequented these arguments too much, but you still refused to believe the theory entirely.

“Next time, be up front with me if you’re worried so I don’t start resenting being friends with you.”

A thankful smile appeared on their face and they yielded, slinking back into their seat comfortably. They leant over and pressed the button to alert the waiter that they were ready to order. “I’m good with Set B, as long as we get an extra lunchbox.” They determined. You rolled your eyes and nodded in agreement, knowing that compliance was the best option.

“But really,” they continued with a tight lipped smile, “I’m concerned. Even if what his exes are saying isn’t true, you have to admit that it’s a little strange that you’re constantly getting blamed despite not being as close to the guy as you say you are.”

You didn’t reply because, in one way or another, they had a point.

Jimin entered the apartment some time after 9pm, earlier than usual but by no means strange in nature. Ever since the break up, you discovered that he would much rather prefer to stay inside than to go out with friends as an artificial means of ‘bouncing back’.

You didn’t bother to greet him verbally, simply offering him a nod as you watched the faint outline of his body disappear and reappear form your peripherals.

The soft whirr of the microwave resonated beyond the kitchenette wall. “I didn’t expect you to be relaxing so late in the semester. What’s this about?” Teased Jimin, you could hear his smirk. You shrugged, adjusting the blanket on your front and remaining focused on the screen.

“Actually made headway with my work today, felt like I deserved a break.” You answered. The couch dipped to your left and you felt one of Jimin’s hands tug at the fabric you had claimed as your own. “How was your day? Anything exciting?”

“Submitted that Psych paper I was working on, now I’m in the clear until finals.” He replied, huffing slightly when the fabric refused to budge. The microwave beeped obnoxiously forcing Jimin to stand and retrieved whatever he had heated up. “You gonna be a good roomie and share the blanket or not?”

You scoffed. “I already let you dip into my ice cream stash – I’m clear from being giving for the next few weeks.

Jimin entered once more with a plate of leftovers and pouted at you childishly as he plopped back down. You offered a corner out of spite. He draped it across his knee half-heartedly.

It was quiet between you both, only the sounds from the show playing in front of you filling the atmosphere for most of the night. It was only broken by Jimin’s soft voice around an hour after he had arrived back.

“No one has been bugging you about me, right?”

There was a part of you that wanted to mention [Y/F/N] despite her inquiries being purely out of concern, but a larger part dismissed that and attempted to hone in on the underlying meaning of his words.

“Nope,” you were sure to pop the final syllable, “why? Is something up?”

He shook his head and shrugged, murmuring a “Just curious” under his breath. You looked at him curiously from the corner of your eye, wondering when you could bring up the query that had arisen in your mind.

Three days later, Jimin had cleared the concerns you did not wish to voice.

You had spent the three days that had passed nesting in your room, hidden away from the world because (1) you had hit a major roadblock with your assignment and needed to get it done and (2) Jimin had been getting too antsy for your own liking.

Thankfully, he had respected the boundaries of your bedroom just as you would do with him, which meant that you were to avoid him very well.

At least, that was what you had thought. Instead, in a moment of weakness, your roommate had cornered you in the kitchen.

You jumped in surprise when you turned around, almost dropping your cup noodles in the process. Jimin stood in front of you with his arms folded across his chest, leaning back against the counter and tufts of hair covering his forehead haphazardly.

“Word of warning next time-”

“Go on a date with me.”

You almost dropped your noodles in surprise, instead choosing to blink almost animatedly at him. “Pardon?”

“I want to take you out on a date,” he repeated with clear enunciation, “will you go out with me?”

Normal moments of silence between the two of you were comfortable, natural, and often felt like a hug. The one that hung between you in that moment was anything but. It was cold and clammy – nervous.

It took a while to formulate an adequate response, and you remained standing with a neutral expression. “I’m not your rebound, Jimin.”

He shifted his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet, arms still crossed. “You aren’t, trust me on this.”

“This is by definition a rebound-”

“Rebounds are most likely gonna happen with people you don’t care about and the last time I checked, I liked you.”

You opened and closed your mouth repeatedly, unsure of how to properly answer. From the bottom of your vision, you noticed the noodles still in your grasp despite losing all feeling in your fingers from the sheer heat emanating from the container.

Yes, the container.

Definitely not your cheeks or your arms or your body in general.

Another second of silence followed before you piped up. “You don’t like me, shut up.”

Good job, [Y/N].

Jimin scoffed. “You can’t tell me who I can and cannot like.”

“I can when that person is me!”

Jimin took a step towards you. You stepped back. Some of the soup splashed over the edge of the container.

“Look, I have feelings for you.” He admitted, unfolding his arms. “Are they serious? I don’t know. Do they make sense? No, but when do emotions ever do? Am I going to throw away a pretty good living arrangement to try and figure it out? Yeah, I am. Because there is something between us [Y/N] and I want to know what it is... I want to know if you feel the same, or at the very least feel just as confused as I feel right now.”

Another step, toes barely touching on the cold tile.

“One date, and if anything does happen then we figure it out from there... All I know is that I like you and I want to give this a decent shot.”

He looked into your eyes, searching for some sort of sign that signalled the answer he was hoping for. You remained still, eagerly looking back at him attempting to find any trace of a lie or joke within his features.

You found none.

And you wanted to punch [Y/F/N] for being right.

“One date.”

His eyes widened in surprise and you shifted back again.

“After you submit that paper?” He asked. You nodded. “Keep your schedule free, then.”

His kiss came as quickly as it went, plush lips against your cheek in a chaste and innocent gesture that left your eyes wide. He moved away, nodding once more before leaving you alone to your food.

You glanced down. The noodles had puffed up a lot. You frowned in discomfort.

Discomfort at your somewhat soiled food.

Definitely not that the way your heart had begun to beat faster at the minute interaction.

Definitely not.

#kpop scenarios #bts #bts scnearios #bangtan scenarios #bangtan #bangtan boys #bangtan boys scenarios #jimin #jimin scenarios #park jimin #park jimin scenarios #jimin fluff #bts fluff #roommate au #college au #wayward scenarios #waywardscenarios

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cicinicole-14 · 7 years

Note

Top 6 Grey's emotional moments & Top 6 Amelia Shepherd quotes :D

okay, im sorry to disappoint but im not going to add gifs this time, but i will hpily explain why these are my favourites. :D and disclaimer again; these are in no particular order i think..

Top 6 Emotional Grey’s Moments

six: Seattle Grace Mercy West Shooting (6x23)

i mean how is this not emotional?!?!?! first of all, we have callie who is trying to get arizona to love her or even understand her and talk to her again while operating on a child in a patient room and Clarke visits them. then you have bailey, percy and patient mary who get a visit and Gary shoots percy and bailey’s trying so hard to save him but cant. then there is alex who is shot and all he can hallucinate and think of is Izzie who left him but he thinks lexie is her. and poor mark who wants to be with lexie but lexie is with alex and she has a boyfriend, and yeah she could have a husband but she has a boyfriend. and then there is owen who got shot and meredith who had to operate on him and then there was derpy little april who was born in ohio on april 23rd and she has a mom and a dad and april stop talking because u just got derek shot and now it made meredith miscarry and cristina and jackson are operating on him and jackson pulled his tabs off and made us all think he died because gary was going to shoot meredith and i dont even remember the rest but how was none of that not emotional? it wasnt it was super emotional.

five: the plane crash (8x24)

again, this is all so emotional. cristina cant find her shoe. meredith cant find derek. arizona cant feel her leg. derek cant feel his hand. poor jerry died. the fire went out. there was only one piece of gum. cristina did like weird surgery on mark in the middle of a forest and then there’s lexie. poor lexie who was trapped under a plane. poor lexie who loved mark. poor lexie who’s pelvis was crushed and her arm was probably detached and she will never get to see sofia grow up. she will never get to see zola and bailey and ellis grow up. she will never have her own kids with mark. because you know why? she fucking died because shonda rhimes is an evil woman who makes really emotional episodes.

four: amelia’s breakdown (11x22)

oh god. caterina is an amazing actress. her almost slip with the oxy on derek’s deck just fucking wrecks me. like there are no words. she is fine. she’s hanging in there. she good. she’s making jokes and putting butts in the seats of every OR gallery she is great. but her brother is dead. she’s dead and she is what? supposed to be going bat crap crazy? huh? yeah. but shes hanging in there until some shady doctor sells her a baggy of oxy and shes going to take it. but she cant because thankfully owen stops her and its okay because she needs to feel things. and it’ll be okay.

three: i love you (9x24)

alex’s i love you confession to jo literally makes me squeal so fucking hard you have no idea whatsoever. this episode is my favourite outta the whole show. this is mainly just fangirl emmotional because i love alex and jo and to see alex telling her he loves her was amazing because he doesnt do crazy chicks with problems, but he likes chicks with dude names. he likes jo. so he did. he told that intern out there to shut up because he loved her.

two: owen and amelia’s talk (13x17)

everyone can give amelia shit for just not wanting a baby and yes she knew owen wanted one and at the time she arried him she wanted babies too. remember the hypothetical conversation of having five kids? huh? she wanted babies too, she still does. it’s just when that negative pregnancy test came up, it forced her into reality of the fact last time she gave birth to a baby he died. so shes scared. she’s so fucking scared because last time it almost fucking killed her and she did it alone. if she gets pregnant again and this baby dies, itll all be over. she wont be able to do it. shes strong but she breaks. and owen just doesnt quite grasp the concept of that. yeah cristina aborted his baby and he lost it too but he didnt get attached. the baby was the only piece of ryan amelia had left and she was attached. and she got to hold him and she got to be his mom for forty-three minutes. she was already a great mom. and this is why this scene was so emotional.

one: amelia tells alex (13x06)

i really need more scenes of amelia and alex because they could be the best of friends given the chance. i love the fact she trusted alex enough at this point to just tell him. and the fact that alex is so caring enough to ask if she’s okay. to ask if she wants to talk about it. no matter what shit he was going thru with deluca he still offered to help her. asked her to sit or talk or leave and then she told him. she told him everything and he stood quietly and listened. he listened to everything she needed to say and get off her chest before he gave her a pep talk about how owen could never hate her because “its hunt” but she thinks he will because when she waited for that test to be answered she was wishing it was negative and when it was owen heart broke but she was relieved and she could breathe again. so she says again to alex if owen would hate her. but alex is compassionate. he knows no one could ever hate amelia. especially for that reason. he knows she lost a baby. you cant hate someone for losing a baby like that. and shes broken. whoever hates her for that should go to hell. alex is a great friend. ugh this scene is wonderful.

Top 6 Amelia Shepherd Quotes

*some of these are from PP some are from Grey’s

six: why do we even try when the barriers are so high and the odds are so low? why don’t we just pack it in and go home? it’d be so, so much easier. it’s because, in the end, there’s no glory in easy. no one remembers easy. they remember the blood and the bones and the long, agonizing fight to the top. and that’s how you become legendary.

this quote is so inspirational to remember to fight until you get to the top and no matter what comes in your way just push through and never take the easy way out because no one remembers easy. i used that in one of my art projects earlier this year.

five: The key, though, win or lose, is not to fail. And the only way to fail is not to fight. So you fight until you can’t fight anymore. Hold up you head and enter the arena, and face the enemy. Fight until you can’t fight anymore, never let go, never give up, never run, never surrender. Fight the good fight, you fight even when it seems inevitable that you’re about to go down swinging.

this is actually the first half of the quote above but they always seem like two different quotes and i like to think of them that way. they mean the same and different things all at the same time. just keep fighting the good fight.

four: I gave birth to one, not that long ago. I held him for a few minutes and then I donated his organs. They took him out of my arms and they took him apart. And if I let myself drink I would never stop. You're asking me out because you look at me and you think we're about the same age, we could have fun. I might have made the same mistake if I were you. But we're not the same age. I'm about a hundred years older than I look.

this just hurts me emotionally. its like the first time she starts talking about her baby and like she’s coping in the only way she knows how. and it hurts me. i love amelia my precious bby.

three: People don't change. They modify. They adjust. Underneath, we are who we are. People just get better at covering up their flaws.

this one is just really deep and relevant to what i personally believe in of people and their ability to change or actually not change because people can’t. they will always be the same ole person you know and it really sucks when its someone you care about and they turn into a shitty person and then seem to be out of that again and become normal but then the shittiness comes around again and its because people cant change.

two: if you aren’t willing to keep looking for light in the darkest of places without stopping, even when it seems impossible, you will never succeed.

this quote i literally live by because really though, if you dont push through even on the darkest of days, you wont get anywhere in life.

one: because if you tell me to ‘filter’ again, i am going to bludgeon you to death with a reflex hammer.

just had to throw a funny in there, of course. and this one is my fav because she’s talking to addison and you can only joke like this to best friends.

well... sorry this took so long. thank you so much!

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standtoreason93 · 4 years

Text

Street Tactics – Part 2

By Greg Koukl

One critical challenge you will not be able to avoid as a Christian ambassador is the challenge of the atheist. Yet, most Christians are not prepared for—and are therefore understandably apprehensive about—encounters with them. I want to help you be ready when the opportunity comes your way.

There are two reasons engaging with atheists can be daunting.

First, the most vulnerable part of any worldview is its foundation. Undermine that, and you undercut every single thing resting upon it. Destroy the footings, and the whole lot crumbles.

It’s an effective general strategy we use often at STR, but there’s a reason atheism puts us on the defensive side of that approach. Our story starts, “In the beginning, God….” If there is no God, then there is no story and Christianity never gets off the ground. Simple.

Second, atheists are often confident, aggressive, and unyielding. Plus, their complaints against theism initially make sense to a lot of people who are on the fence. Their points are often rhetorically clever and complex, making them difficult for Christians to counter.

That’s one reason they’ve been effectively turning heads in recent years. According to a current Pew Research Center poll, those who describe themselves as atheists account for 4% of U.S. adults, up from 2% in 2009. That’s a 100% increase in the last decade.[i] There’s even a popular tutorial available providing tactical training to help atheists make an atheist out of you.[ii]

With the spate of deconversion stories recently making their rounds on the internet, it’s clear the approach is having an impact on Christians. That’s why you need to be prepared with specific plans to help you engage the issue thoughtfully and with grace when you encounter it.

In the book Tactics—A Game Plan for Discussing Your Christian Convictions,[iii] I detail the larger plan for engaging with non-Christians. Here, though, I’m focusing on one application of that plan that I’ve called “Street Tactics,” a battery of specific questions you can use to challenge a dissenter on a particular topic. This approach keeps you in the driver’s seat of the conversation in a pleasant way, protecting you from the risk associated with more head-to-head encounters.

First, I give you some insight into the specific weaknesses of the challenge offered. Then I provide specific questions to get you started (rendered in bold) along with samples of how the initial stage of a dialogue might unfold.

Those initial questions are important. When dealing with a tough issue, it’s always good to have an opening move at the ready. If you’re prepared with a question giving you something to say right out of the gate, it gives you a safe launching pad into the conversation.

When I know my first move, it relaxes me and gives me confidence since I’m the one taking the initiative in the conversation. It gets me going in a friendly way, yet with little risk.

I explained the general Street Tactics approach in the last issue of Solid Ground. There, I gave the guidance you need to maneuver though the minefields of one the most frequent challenges you’ll face, the problem of evil.[iv]

Three Moves

Of course, there is a plethora of issues atheists raise and a rack of titles offered by thoughtful Christians responding to them.[v] My purpose here is not to retrace that ground.

Instead, I want to give you insight into three general moves you’ll face with atheists and then provide some tactical questions to get you moving forward comfortably in conversation on those concerns, yet with a minimum of risk.

Take note, the goal of this approach is not to close the deal. We’re not in harvest mode here. Instead, I want to help you do a little gardening by offering a few simple questions to get your friend thinking. I call it “putting a stone in his shoe.”

There are three errors you will consistently confront when talking with atheists. The atheist’s first misstep is a defensive move, a deflection. By redefining the word “atheist,” he attempts to absolve himself of any responsibility to defend his own view. His second move is another redefinition, this time of the word “faith,” distorting it to make it impossible for you to defend your view. Finally, there’s the blanket dismissal, “Believing in God is irrational. There is no evidence.”

Before I go further, though, let me give you a general maneuver. My first response when somebody tells me he’s an atheist is, “Really? That’s interesting. What kind of atheist are you?”

My question trades on the simple fact that atheists do not agree on everything. Most atheists are materialists—convinced that nothing exists except physical things known empirically by the five senses—but not all are. Some believe in objective morality; some do not. Some flutter back and forth between atheism and agnosticism, depending on the definitions.

Asking this question has a number of advantages.

First, I want the atheist to see I’m not shocked or intimidated by his announcement but rather curious about his convictions and comfortable learning more about them. An opening question like this also buys me time to think about where I might go next with my queries.

Next, this question immediately forces the atheist to begin thinking about his own view in a more precise fashion, something I’m convinced most atheists have rarely done.

My second general question is, “Why are you an atheist?” I have no idea how my friend is going to respond—except to offer a vague claim that there is no evidence for God or that theism is irrational (I’ll deal with those canards in a moment).[vi]

Notice, since I’m the one initiating the conversation, I’m in the driver’s seat. Because I’m using questions, there’s no pressure on me. I’m in student mode, not persuasion mode. It’s a safe place to be.

With your initial queries in place, let’s move on to the three faulty maneuvers I mentioned that atheists frequently make.

Atheism Lite

Oddly, many atheists apparently no longer believe there is no God. Instead, they say, they merely lack belief in God. They don’t claim God doesn’t exist. Rather, they simply don’t believe He does exist.”

Atheists are not un-believers, then. They are simply non-believers. Since a non-belief is not a claim, it requires no defense. Thus, atheism secures the inside lane as the default view of reasonable people. Or so atheists think. That’s the strategy here.

Some will attempt to find safe harbor in a vague agnosticism. Since they don’t know God exists (“Theoretically, it’s possible He does”), they’re not really atheist but agnostic—in knowledge limbo on the issue.

These moves are almost always disingenuous coming from someone who is clearly a committed atheist. True agnosticism is an intellectually noble position, of course. But that’s not what’s going on here.

Theism, atheism, and agnosticism are not knowledge categories, but belief categories. Most of our beliefs are fallible—capable of being false—yet we still think they’re true, often with good reason. If agnosticism merely means lack of certainty, then each of us is agnostic on just about everything. This is silly.

The label “skeptic” often suffers from the same linguistic subterfuge since most self-described skeptics are not the least bit skeptical about their own skepticism; they are fully committed atheists.

Here is the insight that betrays the flaw in this verbal sleight of hand: Atheists may lack a belief in God, true enough, but they do not lack a belief about God. They are neither agnostics nor non-believers. Rather, they are believers of a certain kind: They actually believe that there is no God, even if they don’t know for sure.

The root word “theism” means the existence of God, and the prefix “a” is a negation. An atheist, then, is one who holds “not God,” or “God is not.” In plain language, atheism is the belief that there is no God. This is not linguistically complicated. It never has been.

If I were an atheist, I would not take this route. I’d fear people would think I was cheating with words, betraying weakness, not strength. This, as it turns out, is exactly what’s happening. Yes, there is a difference between non-belief and un-belief, but there is no refuge here for the atheist. Here’s why.

If you asked me which rugby team was the best in England, I wouldn’t know where to start. Since I have no beliefs about the quality of rugby competition in the U.K., I am truly a non-believer regarding the question. I am neutral.

This is not the case with atheists, though, since they are not neutral on the God question. If they were, they wouldn’t be writing books or doing debates. No one pontificates on their non-beliefs. There’d be nothing to talk about.

Richard Dawkins is currently the world’s most famous atheist. He makes his case in his best-selling book, The God Delusion. If God is really a delusion, then He does not exist. Simple. Theists say there is a God, and atheists like Dawkins contend they’re wrong—even delusional. Thus, atheists argue that there is no God—hardly a non-belief.

Look, anyone who has a point of view has a belief he thinks is true even if he doesn’t know it’s true. Atheists have a point of view. This makes them believers of a particular stripe: They believe God doesn’t exist.

With that insight clearly in place, here is how I would proceed in a conversation with someone I’m convinced is actually a standard, run-of-the-mill atheist in spite of his evasiveness.

“Given your claim that you simply lack a belief in God, would you mind if I ask you a question?”

“No. Go ahead.”

“I’m going to make a statement, and I’d like you to respond to it. Okay?”

“Sure.”

“Here it is: God exists. What do you personally believe about that statement?”

“Like I told you before, I don’t know for certain.”

“Right. I got that. But I’m not asking you what you know. I’m asking you what you believe.”

“I’m agnostic.”

“If you were truly an agnostic, you’d have no opinion one way or the other. From what you’ve said so far, though, you’re not neutral on the subject of God. So let me put the issue another way. Given my statement ‘God exists,’ it seems you have one of three choices.[vii] You could either affirm the statement (that would be my view, theism), you could deny the statement (that would be atheism), or you could completely withhold judgment since you have no opinion one way or another (agnosticism). Can you think of any other logical options?”

“No, not really.”[viii]

“So what’s your view—affirm, deny, or withhold?”

“Like I said, I lack a belief in God.”

“I get that. But that’s not one of the logical options available here. Are you really saying you have no opinion on this matter? If so, then what are you trying to convince me of? It doesn’t sound like you simply want me to ‘lack a belief in God.’ It sounds like you want me to believe there is no God. Which is it?”

The purpose of this line of questioning is to even the playing field. Both the Christian and the atheist have a conviction—a belief—and those beliefs are at odds. Fair enough. That means both have a view to defend. If you’re not clear on this issue, you’ll always be on the defensive and the atheist will have a free ride in the discussion. Don’t let that happen.

Fanciful Faith

The atheist’s first maneuver keeps him from having to defend his own view. The second is an attempt to keep you from defending yours. The ploy is a common one, a mistake in thinking even Christians have unwittingly abetted, so it’s an error made on both sides of the aisle.

Suppose I claim that atheism is lame since atheists don’t believe in science. After all, they don’t believe in God because they can’t see Him, but they can’t see atoms either, so their existence must be in question, too. Since atoms are pretty foundational to science, atheists, then, must not believe in science.

You can immediately see the errors here. I have misrepresented the atheist’s view in a number of ways, easily “defeating” the distortion. This is not only bad manners, it’s bad thinking—an informal fallacy called a “straw man.” Erect a caricature of someone’s view (the straw man), then easily knock the scarecrow down.

This is precisely what atheists continue to do with “faith.” Peter Boghossian is typical. “The word ‘faith’” he writes, “is a very slippery pig…. Malleable definitions allow faith to slip away from critique.”[ix] He’s right on this point, of course. Definitions should not be malleable. Twisting the definition of faith to suit his own purposes, though, is not the answer, just as twisting the definition of atheism (by Christians or by atheists) is equally illicit. Boghossian himself acknowledges he’s redefining the term to suit his purposes.[x] Don’t let atheists do it.

Boghossian defines the “faith virus”[xi] as either “belief without evidence,” or “pretending to know things you don’t know.”[xii] In fact, “if one had sufficient evidence to warrant belief in a particular claim, then one wouldn’t believe the claim on the basis of faith. ‘Faith’ is the word one uses when one does not have enough evidence to justify holding a belief.”[xiii] This, of course, is circular.[xiv]

Clearly, faith is critical to Christianity, so it’s an obvious target. Let me say respectfully, though, that it does not matter how atheists like Boghossian define faith or even how some misinformed and confused Christians characterize it. It only matters how Christianity itself defines faith. Otherwise, the critic will be jousting with scarecrows. For this we must go back to the Christian’s authority, the Bible.

The biblical accounts are replete with appeals to evidence to justify its claims.[xv] The summary at the end of John’s Gospel should be enough to make this basic point:

Therefore many other signs [miracles] Jesus also performed in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing you may have life in His name. (Jn. 20:30–31)

No appeal to blind faith here. Simply put, in the context in which it’s used, the Greek word for biblical faith—pistis—means active trust, and this trust is continually enjoined based on reasons and evidence.

It’s tiresome having to keep correcting this distortion, but you must insist on this definition in your conversations with atheists or you’ll have no grounds for discussion—and little ability to defend your view. Your insistence is based on a simple rule: If someone wants to critique a view, then he has to critique the view itself and not something else.

A single question should suffice to clear the air: “It’s clear we have a different understanding of ‘faith.’ If you are critiquing my view, though, what is more important, your definition of my view or my definition of my view?”

The perpetual distortion of faith by atheists is tied to another misconception.

“Show Me the Money”

There’s a reason atheists insist that Christian faith is blind. They’re convinced there is no evidence for God, so belief in Him is irrational and faith in Him must be a leap. But the assertion is baseless; it’s simply not true.

The easiest way to get to the heart of the issue is to ask probing questions. Here’s my first one: “Precisely, what is irrational about belief in God?” Here I’m looking for specifics. It’s not enough for the atheist to respond, “It’s just dumb.” Exactly what is “dumb” about it?

An irrational belief is one that either contradicts good reason or flies in the face of solid evidence to the contrary, so ask, “How does belief in God violate reason, and what is the evidence against belief in God?”

Any evidence contrary to theism would actually be evidence for atheism, since it’s the only other alternative—in rational terms, either A or non-A, either God or not God. But giving evidence for atheism is precisely what many atheists are trying to avoid with the first maneuver mentioned above.

The question “What exactly is the evidence for atheism and therefore against theism?” is in order here. Some have offered the problem of evil, but objective evil in the world—the only kind of evil that matters in this complaint—ironically turns out to be evidence for God, not against Him, as I demonstrated in the last issue of Solid Ground. I’m open to hearing other suggestions, but the offerings have been thin.

Evidence for God, by contrast, abounds, and tomes have been written detailing it. These include arguments for the beginning of the universe (cosmological arguments, e.g., the Kalam), arguments from obvious design of all sorts in the natural realm (teleological arguments), and arguments based on objective morality (the moral argument), to name just a few. There is Lewis’s argument from desire, there is evidence based on well-documented miracles, and there is historical evidence in support of Jesus’ resurrection.

When an atheist claims there is no evidence, then, I have a few questions for him.

“What specific arguments for God have you considered?”

“I haven’t seen any.”

“Well, if you haven’t considered the arguments for God, how do you know no such evidence exits?”

“Well, I have considered some of them.”

“Good. Then please tell me which ones you’ve thought about and what, in your opinion, is wrong with them. How, specifically, have they failed?”

You might even ask, “What would count as legitimate evidence for God, in your mind?” This query tests the atheist’s intellectual honesty.

These questions are good ones even if you’re not versed in the arguments for God themselves. If the atheist gives any content, make note of it, thank him for it, and tell him you’ll give his ideas some thought. There’s no obligation to answer every challenge on the spot, especially if a particular issue is out of your depth. Do some research later, on your own, when the pressure is off.

The key here is to not settle for vague generalities. Make the atheist spell out the specific shortcomings of belief in God, if he can. I want him to be clear on the exact reasons why belief in God is nonsense.

A warning is in order here. Often, there’s a shell game going on. There is a difference between having credible reasons to believe something and having reasons adequate to convince a hardened skeptic. The claim that there is no evidence is not the same as saying the evidence available is not convincing. That’s a different matter. A piece of evidence is an indicator, not necessarily a decisive proof.

Generally, a thoughtful theist’s approach is what’s called abductive reasoning. All things considered, what is the best explanation for the way things are? That’s a matter for thoughtful discussion, not thoughtless dismissal.

When atheists keep asking, “Where’s the evidence?” they’re either not paying attention or they’re misunderstanding the role of evidence—both odd since they identify themselves as the party of reason.

There’s much to discuss with atheists, but clearing the air on these three critical misperceptions—or in one case, outright distortion—is critical to making progress.

Both atheists and Christians make claims. It’s an even playing field in that sense. Both are required to give reasons for their views. We’re ready to do that, demonstrating that our confidence in God is grounded not in wishful thinking but in a body of evidence that needs to be addressed rather than dismissed as naught.

Use these questions as friendly probes in conversation. They’re formidable tools to keep you in the driver’s seat of otherwise difficult interactions with those trying to undermine the very foundation of Christianity: God.

__________________________

[i] “U.S., Decline of Christianity Continues at Rapid Pace,” Pew Research Center, Oct. 17, 2019.

[ii] Peter Boghossian, A Manual for Creating Atheists (Durham, NC: Pitchstone Publishing, 2013). Find my response to Boghossian’s project in “Tactics for Atheists,” Solid Ground, May-June 2019, at str.org.

[iii] Gregory Koukl, Tactics—A Game Plan for Discussing Your Christian Convictions, 10th Anniversary Ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2019).

[iv] See “Street Tactics I,” Solid Ground, Jan-Feb 2020, at str.org.

[v] Standouts include Turek and Geisler’s I Don’t Have Enough Faith to Be an Atheist, J. Warner Wallace’s God’s Crime Scene, and Ravi Zacharias’s Can Man Live without God?

[vi] Often atheists will reflexively invoke the problem of evil. In the last issue of Solid Ground I gave tactics to deal with that challenge.

[vii] I owe this line of thinking to my philosopher friend Douglas Geivett.

[viii] This would be an intellectually honest answer, unless he can offer a fourth option, which he can’t since it doesn’t exist.

[ix] Boghossian, 22–23.

[x] Ibid., 80.

[xi] Ibid., 68.

[xii] Ibid., 23-24.

[xiii] Ibid., 23.

[xiv] I go into detail on Boghossian’s mangling of “faith” in “Tactics for Atheists,” Solid Ground, May-June 2019.

[xv] Whether or not a critic believes the accounts is irrelevant to the question. My point here is only that, since the Bible offers reasons for faith, biblical faith is not blind. Whether those reasons are persuasive to a skeptic or not is a different issue.

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