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cockasinthebird · 3 years

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It was awkward at first, which isn’t much of a surprise to Steve. This is a whole new world for him- how would he ever even go about dating or flirting with guys, least of all Billy Hargrove. Girls he understood, flowers and chocolate and driving them to the mall and carrying their shopping bags, classic textbook stuff that he’s actually quite good at if he had to say so himself.

Hi was all he managed to write to Billy.

Hey ;) was the response.

Nerve wracking, dizzying, nauseating. It left him a mess for that entire weekend, making him incapable of ever even responding to any of his other matches on the apps, because he couldn’t stop thinking about Billy fucking Hargrove. Yet he also didn’t know where to go from there, and when Billy didn’t see it fit to send him a second message, it just died out right then and there.

But there was no relief, no Oh thank God that he wouldn’t have to even try and find out what it’s like with Billy- what sex is like with Billy. Yet the thought of it stayed. Every night, morning, day. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, all ruined by a crown of golden curls, broad shoulders, his musky stench, that ugly tattoo… It doesn’t make any sense to him still, but now whenever he thinks about how firm and strong Billy was, bumping up against him on the court, the way he almost admired Steve in the showers right before calling him a pretty boy, and his voice when he said it… it’s all too vivid now. Whenever there was a moment for it, his idle hands would slowly find their way past the border of his briefs, but after only a few strokes of his half chub he’d pull back with a loud and exasperated sigh.

Come Monday morning and he’s sitting in his car, hands gripping too tight around the steering wheel, students flocking to the front doors of Hawkins High. Yet somehow through the mess of reluctant teens, Steve still manages to spot Billy without even really thinking about it, like a gorgeous needle in a hormonal haystack, jeans clinging to his sculpted ass, the fabric around his thighs looking about ready to tear-

Steve shuts his eyes, squeezing till it becomes uncomfortable in an attempt to forget that he knows what Billy looks like naked; how freckles dust across his features everywhere, how smooth he is, how he’s oh so perfectly waxed-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit.” Of all things that could have happened, Steve sporting a boner at school wasn’t rare but definitely the worst. Especially given the subject of his all too sudden desires.

He had never cared to think twice about Billy when he wasn’t around, and now he’s the only thing on his mind. He can’t go in there like this, can’t face him like this, Steve’s body is too sensitive to even the slightest hint of Billy apparently.

And he’s not going to jerk off in his car, that’s just… sad.

The fact that he makes it all the way home without a single speeding ticket is just dumb, lazy luck, and that he makes it to his bedroom before jerking off for the second time today is just impressive. At least he can still show some self restraint.

But only a little.

For when he’s done and ashamed of it all, he sluggishly drags his feet toward the shower, where as soon as the hot water hits his skin, he’s reminded of the locker room at school. And he’s reminded of all the times he has caught Billy stealing glances, only for those crystal blues to flee once they’ve been caught, maybe spit out a little toxic comment that’s barely heard in passing.

As he now looks down at his fully hard dick once more, yearning to a certain someone’s attention here in the nude, Steve closes his eyes only to be met by the prideful, girthy cock that even when flaccid Billy struts around with like he’s the king.

His lips pursed around a cigarette. His hands as they grasp the ball at practice. His fingers so nimble whenever he plays with a pencil in class. His smile that he flashes to all the girls. His tongue out to swipe as he grins at Steve.

“Fuck, ah-” he bites into his one hand as he cums into the other, white clashing with the pink of the bathroom tiles. And another, “Fuck!” as he slams the side of his fist against the wall of the shower.

Barely an hour passes before he’s hard and ready again, lying on the couch with old reruns of whatever on the tv, his eyes glued to the pics Billy has posted everywhere for his own conceited ego’s sake, and the hundreds of likes and comments he gets, of course.

But it’s hard not to like what you see, when you’re faced with self-confidence like this, and well earned at that considering his Adonis looks and frequent exercise routine. It wouldn’t shock Steve if he found out that Billy could lift him without breaking a sweat.

Actually it thrills him far too much to even consider, as he watches a video on instagram of Billy benching far more than what Steve weighs, and all the blood rushes into his already eager erection at such a speed he gets a little dizzy.

He almost misses the doorbell ringing in his intense, almost stalker-y field of view, and who the fuck even rings anyone’s door at almost 1pm on a Monday. A sigh and rubbing his eyes prepares him for the inevitable greeting of either mormons or jehovah's witnesses, or maybe he’s lucky to meet a travelling salesman who’s got a cure for crushing on people way outside your league.

The bell rings several times as he walks up to the door, and even after opening it up to the warm summer weather, it takes Steve several long seconds before he realises who’s standing there, toothy grin and denim clad with an arm up on the doorframe.

It hits him like a bullet to the heart, the shock of finding billy Hargrove here, in front of Steve who’s barely dressed and-

Billy’s eyes hone in on the obvious tenting of Steve’s green boxers, and that grin spreads into the widest, flashiest smile that Steve has ever possibly seen.

“Is that for me?” he drawls out, lustful and daring.

And it sets the poor trust fund kid aflame, his heart pumping so fast and hard he feels it pulsate in his dick. The blood rushing away from his brain must be making him dumb, because the only seemingly obvious reaction Steve can sort out is reaching for Billy and kissing that smug look from his face.

It doesn’t take Billy long to get in on it; he pushes his way through the door and closes it behind him, strips clean of his denim jacket before tugging off Steve’s shirt. It all happens so fast he can’t even follow, the taste of Billy’s spit and the feel of his teeth biting disorients him to a point where he can barely answer the question,

“Where’s your bedroom?”

With, “Upstairs and to the left.”

Suddenly they’re on his bed, the memory of them stumbling up the stairs as they undressed distant and nearly gone, as the throbbing of his cock has never felt louder than in this moment.

Of all the girls he’s been with, being with a man is… different. He’s nervous, almost nauseous with it, yet has never been more excited, turned on, or harder in his entire life. Hands are everywhere but where he desires them as they push him into the covers, smoothly runs up and down his chest and abs then all the way up to cup his jaw. His face feels wet with kisses and how eagerly Billy licks his lips to taste everything.

It’s a rushed mess yet it doesn’t go fast enough.

“Touch me,” he whispers without thought as he tries to keep up with Billy’s pacing.

“Yeah? Want me to touch you, pretty boy? Touch your hard, long cock?” Billy’s tone almost cruel and rough at the seams, his hands going down to grip Steve’s hips with near brutish strength.

“God yes,” Steve moans at the slight pain, “I want you to touch me so fucking bad- jerk me off, please.”

“Please?” Billy barks out a laugh at that, “Those bitches you fuck into all that nicety? Please and thank yous.”

“They love it,” Steve says with confidence that can only come from personal experience.

But it only makes Billy laugh more as he pulls away. He sits up on his knees, cock hard and thick where it stands at attention between his muscular thighs. “That won’t work with me, princess. Don’t gotta ask like a good guy for me to fuck you, just say it and I’m here.”

“How easy of you,” the words are out before Steve even thinks about it. The rivalry they have is still new and fresh, it can barely be helped, and for a moment he fears that he has ruined the moment.

Yet Billy doesn’t move away. He slowly licks along the arch of his upper lip, something deep and primal in the way he stares, and a hand runs through his golden locks to push them away from his irritatingly handsome face.

“Look who’s talking.”

In a rush that seems natural to Billy, he flips Steve onto his side before laying down behind him and pressing the head of his wet dick against the crevice of Steve’s thighs.

“Wait!” Steve almost shouts as the churning of his stomach makes him sick with worry about the more technical functions of… this.

“Don’t worry baby,” Billy’s voice all of a sudden like silk, a range so odd and unfamiliar compared to his normal boisterous attitude, “I’m not gonna pop your cherry the first time we do this. You got me too excited for that, don’t wanna wait while I prep you like you deserve,” he whispers against the shell of Steve’s ear, and it eases every single worry he had.

“Oh…” The pent up nerves in his stomach vanishes, like a knot coming undone, every single muscle in his body relaxes into the sheets.

Well, almost every single muscle.

“Yeah, oh,” Billy chuckles and rubs his nose against the back of Steve’s neck, kissing his back. “I can be a nice guy, too. You don’t gotta worry bout a thing, just let me take care of you.”

Today has been… a long, confusing mess. From the boner he woke up with after dreams of Billy, to the one in his car, the one in his shower, the one on the couch, to the way Billy so rudely shoved his way into Steve’s personal space, up the stairs, onto the bed. Rude and hectic from their first kiss till now. Now he’s… nice? Steve feels a fool for falling for it, but at least he’s aware as he lets down his guard and allows for Billy to… do whatever he pleases.

Is this how girls feel whenever a hot guy is nice to them? Whenever Steve is nice to them? Doesn’t feel like the worst thing in the world.

So he nods and hums a light agreement.

“Good,” Billy hums, too, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl in the best way possible; the shivers down his spine almost delightful as they go straight to his dick.

And when Billy gently pushes his heated flesh in between Steve’s thighs, the wet pre lubing up the skin perfectly, it’s weird and foreign, but also impossibly erotic and thrilling, and suddenly all Steve can think about is how Billy’s cock would feel inside of him.

It’s no lie that that’s something he’s thought about before - not necessarily with Billy mind you, just in general when sliding into a soaking wet pussy, he’d often get almost lost in thought about what that feels like, and if this is any indicator of it, he’s even more eager for it now.

So eager he can’t help the long, breathy moan that escapes him as Billy moves into his embrace till they’re lying flush together.

“That good huh?” Billy whispers from behind, and Steve can only imagine the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Rather than responding he moves, closing his legs tighter and grinding back against Billy, as to test his own boundaries with all of this - which has been something of a win, considering he really went from his first kiss with a guy to this within ten minutes or so. And the way Billy groans all pleasant and pushes harder into their meeting of skin jolts through Steve’s cock like a bolt of lightning making him spurt out pre.

“Yeah, keep your legs just like that,” Billy speaks uncharacteristically soft as he moves one hand down, his burning hot palm smoothly moving over a thigh and staying there for leverage, as he starts rocking back and forth. In and out.

Steve’s breath stutters and he can’t help but put a hand over his mouth. It’s not uncommon for him to be overly vocal and enthusiastic during sex, but this felt… almost embarassing, the kind of blithe and soft coos and moans rather than deep, throaty groans making his cheeks red.

“Don’t do that.” Billy moves his hand up to grab Steve’s and intertwines their fingers. “I wanna hear you. Let me know what I do to you.”

His cock throbs with urgent need at those words. Such a deep, baritone voice that excites Steve to a fever pitch, his body burning up where sweat gathers down his back between them. It’s gross and stimulating all at once, as Billy thrusts between his wet thighs and holds him close, he feels like a virgin again.

And maybe that’s why Billy is treating him so kindly. Not that he disagreed with the fervor earlier, how crude it was to be manhandled like that, but this? This gentle rocking of their bodies as they together find harmy in the rhythm, it’s intoxicating. Steve barely even notices when his own hand sneaks down to wrap around his hard length, so lost in the moment he can’t think straight, can’t stop the sighs and moans that spill from his body as he melts into Billy’s embrace.

“That’s it,” Billy speaks softly like summer rain, “God you’re so fucking hot. Can’t tell you how long I’ve admired you in secret, thought about every single mole and freckle as I jerked off at home. This is all I’ve wanted for so long, I thought I was dreaming when I saw you on the app.”

Steve wants to respond, wants to say something like, “How do you think I felt when we matched,” but his mind is a fog of euphoria, barely able to even hear what’s being so dearly and honestly said as he can’t focus on anything other than the slickness of Billy’s cock hitting the back of his balls, nudging him closer and closer to the edge with every thrust.

“Your thighs are so nice and soft, clenching around me just right, arh, you feel so fucking good, princess.”

When Billy speeds up, Steve naturally follows along.

“I’m so close.”

Steve, too. The pent up feeling that’s been quickly building to an unbearable pressure point is becoming too much, hot and ecstatic like a volcano waiting to erupt.

“Wanna cum between your legs so bad, baby.”

“Ah- please,” Steve finally finds words and it comes out like a pathetically needy little whine.

He wants to wait- wants them to cum together like he’s seen on porn as fake as that might be, but it’s a sudden and rampant thing, blinding him with fireworks behind his screwed shut eyes. A feeling that can’t possibly be expressed in any other way than a loud, prolonged, almost shocked moan, as he cums into his own hand that he jerks with ardent intensity.

Whilst not simultaneous, Billy is not far behind; urged on by Steve’s alluring keening he sped up his thrusting and grinding like he’s in a race for the finish line himself. And it would be kinda humorous if it wasn’t so hot how hard he slams into the gathering of warm, soaked flesh. Oh how he pounds into Steve with all his sweaty might, grunting and groaning till he cums with a loud and lustful moan, his hand still holding on to Steve’s with a near crushing passion to it.

And then there’s silence, as they breathe out together, muscles relaxing, dicks flaccid and sticky with cum. It’s warm and nice and cozy, but it’s hard to enjoy for Steve.

Is Billy actually this nice, or was it just a play to get off? Did he do to Steve what he does to every other bitch that he gets with? What now? What’s next? Are they gonna be a thing or just friends with benefits? Wait, are they even friends? Fuck buddies maybe? All the thoughts that he didn’t have time to be anxious about before comes rushing in fresh and clear in a post-climax-clarity moment, and it stirs the pit in his stomach alive again.

When Billy squeezes his hand gently, and asks, “What are you thinking about?” whilst nuzzling into the nape of Steve’s neck, kissing him lazily as if almost asleep.

It… helps. The thoughts aren’t gone per say but they’re in the distance now, and all it took was a simple question- a sign of caring.

Steve turns around in bed to look at Billy’s drowsy expression, before answering, “Thinking about taking a shower. You wanna come with?”

Billy’s nose furrows and wrinkles as he peeks out past ruffled curls. “Can’t we stay like this a bit longer?”

It makes Steve’s heart beat different.

“Sure.”

#Harringrove #my writing #lemon

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earthfire-75 · 3 years

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You Send Me Flying

Chapter Seven:

(Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music, beta’d by @lady-jane-revisited. Based on The Dirt movie as I don’t yet own the book. Warnings: language and smut)

We headed down stairs and piled into her car, her driving and myself in the passenger seat with the other guys in the back. My fingers were itching to reach out for her, but I fought off the urge. No reason to give those idiots any more fuel. When we pulled into the place, I prepared myself for their antics, because where of all places does she take us? A sex shop.

They’re whooping and laughing in the back seat when they realize it and even she giggles a bit. “Alright, get it all out now. I expect you to act like adults when we get in there. Got it?” She was trying to be stern, but her unsuccessfully-stifled giggles weren’t helping. It was infectious and I cracked a smile as well.

“Good luck with that,” I commented as I got out of the car.

We went inside and she got the clerk to help us with the boots while she looked out for a few other things to pull the costumes together. It went surprisingly smoothly and we met her at the checkout where she pays for it all. I let the other guys go ahead of me, but I pulled her off to the side.

“Have you been paying for all this?”

“Yeah. I mean, Nikki put me in charge of costuming.”

I must have looked as furious as I felt, because she was suddenly standing up straighter and placed her hands on my cheeks with concern on her face. “Mick, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“You’ve been paying for everything out of your own pocket! I’m guessing without help?!”

“Wait…No. Mick, look at me. Nikki and I pooled some of our savings together. Tommy and Vince threw in some too and we opened a bank account for the band. We didn’t ask you, because you’re paying child support.”

My eyes shot to hers for a second before looking away again. I quietly replied, “They weren’t supposed to tell you about that.”

“Yeah, well they were supposed to tell you about the account. What are we going to do with our children, dad?”

Something stirred in me, hearing her call me that. It surprised me that I would react like that, but I pulled her flush against me, letting her feel how hard I was getting. “Screw the kids, say that again.”

“What? Dad?” She asks, sounding confused at first, but then her eyes lit up as the dots connected in her mind and she leaned her head a little to the side so her lips just grazed my ear. “Or would you prefer “Daddy?” She pulled back, looking up at me with innocent eyes and started to back away.

A low growl escaped me at the game she was playing and I managed to hook my fingers through her belt loops before she could turn around to escape. “Oh, no you don’t, Princess.” I tugged her back to me and she gasped when our hips met but there’s a loud honk from her car before I got the chance to kiss her. The trio of idiots were staring straight through the shop’s glass windows from outside at us.

“Get a room!” came their collective cheer.

“I’m gonna kill them.”

“No, you’re not.”

I grumbled under my breath and she shot me a look that told me it would be better for me if I didn’t. “Fine. I won’t.”

She put the bags in the trunk and we headed back to the apartment. The guys and I practiced some more while she locked herself in her unit again to tirelessly work on putting the costumes together. She came back up a little after lunch with her arms full of red and black pleather, one of the boot boxes and a small sewing kit. She handed the pleather material and boots to Nikki before shooing him off to go try it on.

***

Reader’s POV

Nikki took the pile from my arms so I could take the sewing kit. His face lit up, like a kid being given his first present on Christmas, and he ran off to his bedroom. I paced around the front room of the apartment waiting for the bassist to come out. I almost sighed in relief when he finally did with a serious look on his face.

“How does it fit?” I asked, sounding as nervous as I felt.

“Like a fuckin’ glove, man! This is awesome!” He enthused, now cracking a smile and turning for all to see the outfit, front and back before coming up to me and giving me a bear hug.

I laughed and returned the hug. “Are you sure it fits ok?

“Yes, stop worrying! I promise I love it!”

“Ok…if you’re sure. Do you want to keep it here, or do you want me to hold onto it?”

“It’s probably better if you hang on to the costumes. They might get ruined here.”

“Alright. Go change back.”

“Am I next, dude?” Tommy asked, practically bouncing on his feet.

“No. Yours is last because it’s the easiest.”

“Aww, man! Wait, shouldn’t Mick’s be the easiest? His is all black, dude!”

“It might be all black, but I had to sew a damn jacket! Sounds easy, right? It’s not.”

“Oh…damn, dude.”

I turned to the singer, “Vince you’re up.”

The man jumped up from his seat and happily grabbed the outfit, giving it a look-over before trying it on “Sweet!” He comes out looking just as excited as his fellow bassist, “This is so awesome! Check me out, man.”

“And it feels alright? It’s not too tight or too loose or anything?”

Vince was a little busy running his hands over the material at first, but then answered me nonetheless, “You kidding? It fits great. We’re gonna be so badass! The chicks are gonna love it!”

The rest of the gang could agree on that matter, giving each other high fives. I smiled and let him know that I could hold on to it all for them. I gulped as I gathered the next outfit for Mick, clearly seeing the rest of the guys lurking over him like a group of vultures. The guitarist kept his cool and said nothing, aside from a slight grunt as he got up from the couch. He gave me a quiet expression of thanks and headed over the bedroom once Vince returned with his clothing and placed it on the table. Some minutes passed while he was changing and though so far there were no complaints, l still wondered if he was alright, or if he needed any assistance. After seeing him in pain like that, I was getting a little worried.

“Hey I need a little help here,” Mick notified.

I made my way towards the room, ignoring Tommy’s repeated attempt to get under my skin by commenting not to take too long. I knocked on the door, “Mick, are you decent?”

“Yeah, come in, just shut the door.”

The man was nowhere to be found after I closed the door and looked around. However my heart started to slam against my ribcage when he stepped out of the bathroom wearing his full ensemble, a big smirk across his face. The black on black look was absolutely perfect on him. The pentagram headband, the studded boots with the intertwining chains, the belts across his chest, the pleather, and the collar. Jesus Christ. The pleather and collar were too much for me. Minus the make up, he was so close to looking the way he did in my dream, the sinister and demonic creature that put me over the makeup table and took me for a ride. I wanted him, no I wanted nothing more than to let him have me anywhere]: pressed against the wall, letting him roughly pull down my pants so that I could spread my legs and he could taste me. Then grab me by shoulders, hurl me onto the bed, and beg for him to fuck me until I couldn’t walk. Still, the costume would get ruined and of course we would never hear the end of it from the idiot patrol.

“This is really cool, you really outdid yourself with this,” he remarked, walking closer to me.

It finally hit me, “You didn’t really need any help did you?” I asked, closing in the gap by hooking my finger in the ring of his collar, biting my lip as I stared deeply into those sparkling blue eyes. That must have done something to him, his breathing becoming a little shaken, and his eyes widening when I whispered to him, “Daddy...”

His pupils were suddenly dilated, blackness engulfing the pale irises. The next thing I knew, Mick held me very close to his body, his hands grasping my back. I tried to keep my sighs quiet as he kissed my lips, however I couldn’t help but let a squeal slip out when he deliciously devoured my neck with his mouth. The heat from our bodies only increased when he pressed me against a wall, his kisses becoming hungrier by the second as my own hands tugged at his raven black locks.

“Mick, oh Mick...” I whispered.

However reality had reared its ugly head back into the frame when we heard banging from the other side, “Hey! Quit fucking around you two!” Tommy wailed. “Come on, that’s our room!”

Mick shouted back, “Fuck you, you fucking teenager! Open those legs, Princess. Daddy needs you-”

“No, no Mick. Please not now, it’s not a good time. Not with those three right outside the door.”

He was clearly frustrated but took his hands off of me, groaning ast he backed off. Still, I wanted him just as badly, so I thought of a different alternative as I clicked the door shut, lifted up my shirt, and pulled down my bra, “Mark me then, please Daddy.”

Without hesitation, Mick immediately held my breasts and pressed his lips to my skin. He was gentle at first, looking at me to see if I was enjoying the feeling of his mouth. I could feel the pulsations between my legs increasing as I whispered his name. I gasped when he took a nipple and suckled on it with ease, but I needed more from him. No sooner did I settle my hand onto the back of his head that he increased the speed of his sucking. His lips were wet, creating a very moistened sound that invaded my ears. He switched over to the other side and did the same, biting down a bit and moving his head back until my sensitive bud was released from his ivories. The sounds of Tommy’s knocking had completely drowned out as he pleasured me with his mouth and I moaned loudly. I couldn’t stop watching the way he pleased me, feeling my panties getting soaked, especially when I saw the fresh blemishes and crescent marks that were upon my chest. I was nearly there and so was he, yet he had to stop for both our sakes.

He gave each breast one gentle kiss and one little lick to my nipples, he leaned into my ear and growled, “You took that like a good girl, Princess. But Daddy doesn’t want to ruin all your hard work.”

I was in a trance as I responded back instinctively, “Thank you Daddy.”

@nature-and-music @lady-jane-revisited @mickmarstookmyheart @sophiazeppelinchick

#mick mars x reader #mick mars smut #mick mars fanfiction #mick mars fanfic #motely crue #motley crue fanfiction

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shini--chan · 3 years

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I have an idea! What would Allies do after finding out that their s/o have (another) stalker? It can be another yandere, a creep, ex, jealous coworker with bad intentions or even a serial killer.

And a good idea it is, my dear anon.

Yandere Allies – Feindling America

You were already fast asleep, snoozing away under the covers in your shared bedroom. He, on the other hand, was still wide awake and had decided to settle down in the living room to do some light reading. His insomnia was due to the usual reasons – too much caffeine, too much stress, too much curiosity to just let the day finish.

And because he was worried, intently, about you. There was somebody else trying to stick their grubby fingers in your shared life, and pry you apart. That was something he was absolutely sure off. After living so long, and becoming paranoid due to his position on the global stage, he knew very well when he was being watched.

There was something after you in particular, he didn’t like it.

Out of his peripheral vision, he caught sight of somebody moving in the bushes. A spike of adrenaline shot through his body, and for a moment he was tempted to storm about side and give that creep a hook. Yet a better idea came to mind – first to fire a warning shot.

He net his book aside and sauntered to one of the glass door to the balcony and gave the pane a few sharp knocks. It was enough to catch their attention. It was almost comical how the figure froze, and the hood swivelled in his direction. Alfred couldn’t identify them in any capacity – they wore non-script jeans and a grey hoodie along with a pair of gloves. But this was about digging up the war axe.

Grinning, he flipped the bird at them, and then proceeded to draw a thin line across his throat in an unmistakable message.

Alfred would see this as a chance to play hero. He would finally be able to prove to you how capable he is at protecting you, how attentive he would be when it would water down to your safety. Of course, he would make sure there would be a lot he wouldn’t catch wind off – it would be the instances where he would come off as an evil master mind or as a control freak that he would skilfully hide from you.

He might or might not elect to torture the fool that would be stalking you. For him, waterboarding that creep would be a method of stress relief. It would also drive home the point that nobody should dare try to get between him and his sweetie.

Canada

Besides you, your phone beeped for what must have been the twelfth time in the span of one minute. You sobbed harder and buried your face in his chest. Matthew calmly stroked your back, making quiet soothing noises as he held you close.

“(Ex) will have to leave you be someday. This can’t go on forever. One day that jerk will have to accept that you’re gone for good”, he told quietly, while cautiously shifting his position to a more comfortable one.

You were both on the backseat of his car, having sought sanctuary there after you started panicking upon seeing the messages. All the memories had started to overwhelm you, and you had gripped his arm as if it was the only thing that was preventing you from drowning.

“No, that won’t be the case. Before I met you, I tried to leave so often only to be lured back into it. It was only because I met you that I haven’t gone back”, you cried, gazing up at him with a tear-stricken face.

“Shh, I will think of something. There shall be hell to pay.”

Matthew would be concerned about your wellbeing first and foremost. He would cater to you, cuddle with you, sooth you. But don’t think that would mean he would go easy on you should you step out of line and try to flee from him. When he would say he would never let your ex take you back, he would be indirectly saying he would never allow you to leave him.

Naturally, he would be careful and avoid any explicit rhetoric stating that your place in the world is at his side, but the message would be there, hidden between the lines.

With the legal sway he would hold, he would easily have your ex punished in some capacity. This could range from a fine to a restrain order to spending some time in jail.

China

A scream pierced the silence of the night, followed by a yell as the attacker was swept off his feet. Yao didn’t hesitate to continue beating the culprit up, even though he was on the ground.

After all, this was a man that had just been a few milliseconds away from dragging you away and murdering you, after doing unspeakable things to you, things that couldn’t be lightly talked about in any context.

“So, you’re the vermin that has been butchering people left and right for the past four months. You’re just as disgusting as I expected”, Yao commented as he brought his foot down on his back in a harsh stamp.

You had taken seat on a tree stump that was standing by. The near death experience and the fight going on in front of you had utterly rattled you. You were numbly staring at the scene playing out, heads in your hands, whole body trembling and eyes wide blown.

He kicked the killer in the side and was rewarded was a grunt and a hiss: “And I’ll fucking kill you too.”

“Sure you will”, Yao drawled sarcastically and pressed the criminals head into the dirt. “Get used to the taste of it.”

Contrary to expectations, Yao would approach the situation of serial killer being after you calmy. Not because he wouldn’t care about you, but rather because he would be far to old to be surprised by such a – in his eyes – trivial thing. And because he would know that letting himself drown in anger or panic would just result in him making grave mistakes – ie. losing you.

Nevertheless, he would never be far off, lurking behind corners, just out of sight of you and the murderer. He would also scoure your online activity, searching for any suspicious doings from other users. Furthermore he would use the opportunity to learn more about you and your strengths and weaknesses.

England

“Ah, ah, ah. Keep your dirty paws off that”, Arthur chided Jane and firmly grabbed Jane by the ear, harshly tugging there. It wasn’t the most humane treatment of a mortal, that England knew very well. However, he was in a sour mood, your infuriating co-worker being one of the contributing factors to it. Besides, he hadn’t made it one of his life maximas to be nice.

“You dare”, she hissed. When he gave another sharp tug, she yelped and dropped your phone, showing one of your social media profiles. Jane Smithers was persistent, he would have to give her that. Yet that would just be her downfall because she had decided to use that trait to try to ruin your life.

“Oh yes I dare. I dare to not tolerate your disgusting behaviour. Between you and me, we’re going to have a very long talk about your morals.”

She snorted and grabbed his hand.

“I could sue you for sexual harassment. We’ll see if you’ll still be laughing then.”

Oh, he had expected such a threat to come from such a vile person as her. He chuckled lowly – did she really think she could best him when it came to anything.

“And then spend some time in the nick for lying to judge and jury. Don’t think you’d be able to weasel your way out of this. I’m the one here that can have your framed and believe me, I could get you a bloody life sentence.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending, before realisation dawned and she let out a harsh laugh.

“So that is how (l/n) did it. Slept the way to the top.”

“No. (Y/n) has talent, impeccable talent. So unlike you, my dearest never had to resort to the methods you were so kind to mentioned.”

Arthur would see it as his duty to protect you – your physical & mental wellbeing as well as your reputation. So of course he would go after any jealous co-worker that would try to ruin you to any extent. And as mentioned in the snippet above, he wouldn’t be exactly nice about it. Any means would do for him, as long as the risk of his machinations backfiring on him and you would be relatively low.

During the whole process, he would letting you know about everything. It would be his point of proving that the world is a horrible place and that you can only find solace in his company and attention.

France

Francis was in the kitchen when you came stumbling in, frazzled and panting as If you had just run a marathon. By the way your extremities were trembling and sweat dotted your forehead, he wouldn’t be surprised. The only question was why.

Aside from that, fear danced in your eyes, and that was the only further information he needed to know that something was wrong. Rushing forward, he scooped you in his arms, ignoring the coffee that he had been preparing, and asked you:

“What happened, ma cherie?”

Instead of answering, you leaned your head against his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his torso, taking heavy, laboured breaths, as if you were crying. That was when he realised that you were. It worried him.

Was this something that he had done? What had caused you to become so distressed? Was it something he could fix.

“You don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to”, he offered shakily, unsure about what he should do to cheer you up. How could he, when he didn’t know why you were in such a state?

Thankfully, you supplied him with an explanation, one that caused his concern to freeze to ice cold anger: “There is some creep following me. He grabbed my butt when I got off the bus.”

Whoever that devil was, he was going to have hell to pay,

Francis would be enraged that somebody would be so disrespectful of your boundaries and of the fact that you’re already taken. In the brief moments of his more intense bouts of fury, he might do something as rash as to track the creep down and bludgeon him with something, probably a newspaper.

However, his preferred method would be character assassination (this would work especially well if the culprit in question would have a high social status) and verbal abuse. In this case, his revenge could be long-winded and very elaborate.

Russia

The temperature of the corridor had dropped since the last time he had visited – a testimony to the bad insulation and the approaching winter. Ivan thought it did her justice. After all, she did deserve this after nearly kidnapping you.

Speaking of her, she was sitting near the bars when he approached and when she glimpsed him, she quickly scooted away. Clever; she had learned from what had occurred the last time.

“Come to taunt me again?”, she seethed, curling into a tight, haggard ball of fury. Understandable in her case, however he wouldn’t shed any tears or have any sleepless nights.

“As is customary. I have to elevate your boredom somehow”, he confirmed, grabbing a chair and seating himself opposite her.

She stared at the door at the end of the passage, hungerly tracing it and searching the shadows for any sign of you. Ivan derived pleasure from mocking her: “How foolish are to think I would have brought my lover with me? I didn’t the last few times so why should it any different now?”

“You’re so very attached to (y/n), so I had my hopes.”

“Then I’ll have to forever dash them. That I owe you.”

She snarled at this; face twisted to a nasty frown.

“You know, you and I aren’t so different. So it is even more hypocritical of you to claim the moral high ground. Does (y/n) know even half of the things you’ve done in the name of your love?”

“I detest the comparison. I walk free while you rot in solitude, unloved and unwanted. While you have done everything wrong, I have done what was right where it counted most. You go very far by suggesting anything else.”

Russia would be the one to act the most intense of all the allies. He would have had people that were dear to him ripped away from him in the past, so he invest a lot of energy in insuring that wouldn’t happen to you and him.

That would mean he would go up to 11 in this case. As in, he would either kill this person and dissolve their body in acid or feed it to the pigs. Or he would leave this other yandere to rot somewhere after having dragged them before court for a very showy trail to break their spirit.

#yandere hetalia #yandere allies #yandere america #yandere england #yandere russia #yandere canada #yandere china #yandere france

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theadventurousdork · 4 years

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Dani Clayton and Jamie Taylor: A scene by scene study on the dynamism of a queer romance

by theadventurousdork

Well, here we are! An unnecessarily long essay breaking down Dani and Jamie’s scenes together that I decided to write purely for the fact that they have taken a hold of my queer little heart and haven’t given it back yet. Grab some awful tea or coffee and take a read, if you’d like!

Episode One

In this episode, we see Dani and Jamie meet for the very first time. This is the beginning of them and their story. It all starts in the kitchen of Bly Manor where a dirt covered Jamie walks in just in time for the residents of Bly to gather for an afternoon lunch.

“The gardener didn’t even introduce herself to the new au pair. She barely acknowledged her at all. Simply treated her as if she’d always been there. The others in the room just assumed they’d already met, which, if she were honest, was how the au pair felt when she first saw the young woman.”

Jamie walks in without even batting an eye to the new guest meanwhile, we see a soft eyed Dani looking over at the gardener with a gaze that gives the audience the first look to the gravitational pull that seems to be set between them. With Dani explaining her belief that she has seen someone on the parapet of the old wing, Jamie’s reaction is cold. She looks down at the table with a hardened look. She looks almost hurt. We learn later on that Jamie was the first adult resident of Bly to find the dead body of Rebecca Jessel floating in the lake of the manor which has probably resulted in trauma for Jamie as she remembers her late friend. With Owen and Hannah also finding the possibility of someone being on the balcony to be slim, the residents carry on with their meal. As the introduction to Jamie’s character, we are able to see her cold and guarded exterior. However, we also see her wit and humor as she comfortably pokes fun at Miles and Flora. The space she takes when she walks into a room isn’t empty for she fills it with her bold personality and Dani immediately takes notice of this yet she doesn’t show any hint of openly acknowledging it.

Episode Two

Episode two sheds a different light on the pairing. This episode gives us the first look at Dani’s trauma and the weight that she’s feeling on her conscience. But first, we see her changing the tide at Bly as she puts Miles and Flora to work in the garden as punishment for locking her in a closet. As Dani and the children pull weeds, a relaxed Hannah and Jamie watch from a distance just as Owen offers them drinks. As the trio sip on their gin and tea, they discuss Dani and how her presence is a nice addition to the grounds of Bly. This is where something I call “testing of the waters: part one” occurs. Jamie asks Owen if he thinks that Dani’s pretty before continuing to poke fun at his inability to answer. Now this seems rude, especially considering Hannah’s negative reaction to it even going as far as to remind her that romances don’t fare well at Bly. However, I feel like Jamie does this purposefully to see if Owen would provide any reaction that would indicate that he would have any intent of pursuing Dani, which he quickly shuts down as he states that he only has eyes for Hannah. Jamie’s choice to do this can boil down to a simple poking of fun or maybe something more in terms of her trying to understand, and maybe even deny, the gravitational pull that she’s feeling towards Dani by deflecting it to Owen.

This episode also offers the first glimpse into Jamie’s humanity and her deeply empathetic nature. As a distressed Dani storms outside in tears after being triggered from seeing her dead ex-fiancé’s glasses, our favorite gardener comes to the rescue with buckets in hand. Now this is probably the first time that Dani has physically seen Edmund’s glasses since she packed them away before leaving Bly which can explain her intense reaction to finding Flora wearing them. The part to highlight about this interaction between Jamie and Dani isn’t the fact that Jamie tries to console her but is the way that she does so. First and foremost, the gardener tries to make au pair laugh. She makes multiple attempts in her dialogue to make Dani crack the slightest smile. Jamie’s dialogue saying, “there we are,” after Dani finally gives into the attempted jokes shows how laughter was Jamie’s initial goal.

“How else do you think I keep all these fucking plants watered? With my endless well of deep inconsolable tears. That’s how. It’s what got me the job in the first place.”

After she accomplishes this, she goes on to relate to Dani by telling her that she cries several times a day in an effort to make Dani feel normal and not alone in her vulnerable state. To see someone as cold and guarded as Jamie admit to something like this quickly humanizes her and puts her in the position of becoming a dynamic character. Finally, Jamie tells the au pair that she’s doing a great job and leaves a smiling Dani to watch her as she leaves. This offers insight to how Jamie doesn’t like seeing people in distress. She radiates a grounding energy and puts it upon herself to ensure that no one feels like they’re in over their head.

Dani is able to return the favor as she finds an angry Jamie kneeled over a massacre of her rose bushes. Jamie’s hotheaded attitude is shown as she wastes no time getting up to confront Miles for cutting her roses before they were ready. The point to highlight in this moment is that Dani hears her out. Dani listens to Jamie’s grievances and not once tells her that she’s overreacting. Dani hasn’t known Jamie for long but she knows the importance of plants to the gardener and she doesn’t give Miles a pass at ruining something that matters so much to her. Having two separate scenes showing that each half of the pair have the power to talk each other down regardless of having known each other long, serves as a taste as what’s to come for their journey together.

Episode Three

Here we see “testing of the waters: part two” as the keepers of Bly watch over a sleeping Miles and Flora by a crackling fireplace. A tired Hannah rests her head on Owen’s shoulder as Dani and Jamie watch from across the room. Jamie goes onto ask Dani if she wishes she were leaning on Owen instead of Hannah and explains how every woman in town fawns over Owen without him even knowing it. This key moment goes hand in hand with Jamie’s testing of the waters in episode 2 when she tests Owen’s potential attraction to Dani to now testing to see if Dani would be interested in Owen. Jamie’s subtle comments allow her to see the odds of Dani liking Owen without risking any awkward interaction that would potentially be too invasive. With Owen being the only man in the house, it’s understandable for Jamie to want to see if Dani would pursue him which in turn would signal that Dani may not be interested in someone like her.

What comes next is what I like to believe is the moment that Jamie begins to fall for Dani and I mean really fall for her. The conversation about love and possession is beautifully done and sets the distinction that will go onto separate Peter and Rebecca from Dani and Jamie. After a vindictive history lesson on the toxicity of Peter and Rebecca’s relationship, Jamie mentions the idea of loving someone versus possessing someone to which Dani replies that she doesn’t believe should be possible. The effect of this is seen on Jamie’s face as she looks at Dani. It’s a face that says that she’s staring at someone who understands. Understands the fragility of love and the thin lines that separate healthy versions of love from toxic ones. It happens in the span of a second but we can see a switch click in Jamie’s mind just before she breaks her gaze. From what we collect of Jamie’s past a few episodes later, we come to understand that she has always been owned. Stemming from a broken home and growing up in the foster care system, Jamie has always been someone else’s possession to claim ownership of but never was truly loved and nurtured. To hear someone finally understand that there’s a distinction between loving someone versus feeling like they have the right of possessing them, must feel like a moment of overdue comfort.

After a restless night due to seeing Edmund’s ghost again, Dani wakes up the following morning to see Jamie asleep on the couch. This scene lasts merely thirty seconds so why make the choice to keep it in? What significance does it really hold? Is there any significance at all? For me, the significance is comfort. I feel like there’s a level of comfort that Dani feels when she realizes that Jamie was just down the stairs as she laid awake the night prior feeling as if she were alone in the depths of her own shadows.

The new day ends in the tragic news that Owen’s mom has passed away. After a sympathetic Hannah sends Owen off and leaves to light a candle for the deceased, the gardener and au pair are left to give their own goodbyes to each other. As Dani voices that she’s glad that Jamie stayed on the grounds throughout the day and the night prior, Jamie agrees and the two share an uninterrupted gaze at one another. Here is where we see Dani’s first advance as she takes hold of Jamie’s hand. Ever so slightly does Jamie latch back before Dani quickly pulls away.

“Who the hell knew?”

Those words leave Jamie’s mouth as a mixture of relief and shock paint her face as she gets into her car. Dani watches her drive away with an expression that reads “did I really do what I think I just did?” This moment is cut short as she turns around to see Edmund’s ghost staring blankly from behind her. Fear overcomes Dani and a scream is let out as Edmund gets sucked backwards by an invisible force. Up until this point, Edmund’s ghost has remained stagnant, either appearing in a reflection or in parts. This extreme motion of getting pulled backward into the manor can be read as a way to reflect the intensity of the emotions that Dani is feeling in that exact moment. The amount of tension that Dani must have felt to muster up the courage to reach for Jamie’s hand must have been extremely intense which in turn would evoke an intense manifestation of Edmund’s ghost.

Episode Four

Episode four is what I call the episode of guilt. In this hour, we delve deeper into Dani’s past and the darkness that she’s been holding in her heart. Dani’s life just before Bly is revealed and we see snippets of her life with Edmund. From childhood best friends to teenage lovers to getting engaged, Dani and Edmund almost seemed like the perfect set up to an 80s romcom. Almost is the key word here as it’s revealed that Dani breaks up with Edmund just before he storms out of their car into the path of an oncoming truck, killing him right in front of her thus revealing why Edmund is haunting her. Flashforward to Bly, Dani has begun to see Edmund’s ghost more and more. His first appearance in the episode is in Dani’s bedroom mirror just as Jamie helps unzip her dress. If it weren’t apparent in the episodes prior, Dani holds an immense amount of guilt. This guilt doesn’t only stem from being the reason why Edmund was killed but also lies in who she is. Edmund’s presence is symbolic for the guilt that Dani feels whenever she is just on the brink of exploring her sexuality. We see that every interaction that Dani has with Edmund’s ghost occurs just after she shares a moment with Jamie. With Jamie being a tangible representation of what Dani desires, her visions of Edmund become more intense and more frequent as her guilt increases.

The episode continues to show Dani experiencing Edmund’s haunting again when Jamie arrives back to the manor after attending Owen’s mom’s funeral. Here we see Dani catching herself staring at Jamie from across the table. When Jamie catches her gaze, Dani retreats to the sink where we see a mixture of nervousness and excitement across Dani’s face as she looks over her shoulder to take one more look. This moment filled with butterflies and yearning is cut short as Edmund’s hands slide across Dani’s hips as she sees him in a reflection which causes her to panic. Edmund’s presence is growing closer and stronger as Dani has begun to navigate her feelings for Jamie.

In a flashback, we get a glimpse into possibly one of the first times that Dani’s internal conflict of her sexuality crosses her mind. As Dani gets a dress fitted, the female tailor makes flirtatious passes at her. We see Dani acknowledge these advances and isn’t opposed to them occurring. The scene switches to a guilt stricken Dani, her eyebrows furrowed above saddened eyes that wander upward to Jamie who’s helping prep the table for dinner. This quick glance up to Jamie holds so much. The internal turmoil that Dani is feeling in this moment is palpable. To think that all of her moments of repression have led up to this. This feeling of wanting. This feeling of yearning. To live openly and authentically as the person she’s always been.

Later that night, the keepers of Bly hold a bonfire to honor those that they’ve lost. A weight can be felt on the four as they remember their late loved ones by the warmth of the fire. The concept of found family lies in the heart of those who find a home at Bly and can be seen through Hannah and Jamie’s odes to the late Rebecca, Dominic, and Charlotte.

“Because from here on in, the shadows get deeper… the nights get longer. We’re heading into the dark and we have to hang onto each other. So, we can only carry so much.”

As they commemorate who they’ve lost, Jamie mentions Dani and how she believes that Dani is the key to getting Miles and Flora back to themselves. A moment of pain rushes across Dani’s face as Jamie states how she believes that Dani is stronger than she thinks. To be in the midst of an internal conflict yet hear how someone believes in your strength can be something so painful to hear as you struggle to believe it yourself. We see Dani in a battle with herself as she fights to live authentically regardless of the guilt she’s carrying.

Eventually, the gardener and the au pair break away from Owen and Hannah to go to the greenhouse. A pivotal moment in the growth of Dani and Jamie’s relationship occurs here when Dani makes the decision to lay everything out on the table for Jamie and finally explain her history with Edmund as well as sometimes seeing his ghost.

“I’ve never told anybody that.”

These words that leave Dani’s mouth are so intimate and so vulnerable. Jamie takes what she’s being dealt and handles it with such a level of care that ensures that Dani knows that she’s being heard and respected. As we’ve seen Jamie talk Dani down from a breakdown in episode 2, we see a parallel here where Jamie takes it upon herself to make Dani laugh in an effort to console her. This moment is cut short as Dani musters the courage to ask the heartbreaking question that allows Jamie to make the decision whether to take or leave Dani and all of her baggage.

“Think I’m crazy?”

The pain in Dani’s face as she asks this shows just how scared she is to be rejected by the one person she wants the most. Without even a hint of hesitation, Jamie reassures her that nothing has changed in her view of Dani’s strength. A wave of relief comes over Dani as she’s hit her tipping point of acting upon the feelings she’s been suppressing all this time. She kisses Jamie and a moment of vulnerability is shown on Jamie’s face as she gets the confirmation that Dani is sure in her decision to do this. This moment is short lived by Edmund’s ghost appearing just behind Jamie, causing Dani to retreat in a panic. This is probably the worst cockblock in the history of cockblocks. Dani quickly retreats as Jamie mirrors her actions and immediately puts her walls back up as embarrassment sinks into them both in different directions. As the pair make it back to Hannah and Owen, Dani is visibly disappointed with how things ended up. Jamie’s comment of “it’s all good” as she guides Owen away from the bonfire shows how she would prefer to move on right away instead of confronting the confusing messages she’s just received from Dani.

The final scene of the episode is what I like to call Dani’s last straw. Dani’s guilt has turned to anger as she makes the decision to confront her own shadows by throwing Edmund’s glasses into the bonfire. Flashbacks of kissing Jamie intercut the scene to really solidify Dani’s desires to move on and be able to freely love her without the burden of her past.

“It’s just you and me then.”

Dani is tired. She’s waited for this moment. She’s finally accepted this part of her and she stares straight into Edmund’s ghost without any more fear. She’s found the strength to move on.

Episode Six

The sponsor of this episode is cement as Dani and Jamie cement their relationship in this hour. The episode begins with Dani’s attempt at reconciliation after the unfortunate cockblock of a certain dead ex-fiancé in episode four. Dani wakes up at the crack of dawn to visit Jamie in her greenhouse. Dani’s entire existence in this moment is ridden with nervousness as she puts on her best “everything is normal” face. Jamie is quick to notice how out of character waking up this early is for Dani to which Dani dismisses. We see that Jamie’s cold and guarded exterior is back and for good reason considering the unfortunate events at the end of her and Dani’s last interaction. Dani’s eagerness to patch things up puts her through several attempts at getting a reaction out of Jamie, each of which ends up being shut down. First is the gesture of giving Jamie coffee which results in her gently spitting it back into the cup. Next is Dani’s attempt at voicing how lonely she’s been.

“No Owen. No you.”

Dani’s voice drags on a little longer here to emphasize how Jamie’s absence the last few days have created a noticeable emptiness at the manor. Jamie responds with a simple “sometimes people wanna be alone” which seems like her own personal choice. However, Dani finally gets a reaction through Jamie’s icy exterior when she makes her laugh after a terrible attempt at a British accent. This mirrors the other instances prior where Jamie has made the effort to make Dani laugh in order to ease any emotional tension. After the ice has been broken, we see Dani’s first wind of confidence as she asks Jamie out to a boring ol’ date at a boring ol’ pub. We can see relief and a sense of pride strewn across Dani’s face when Jamie catches her drift. This marks the beginning of a fresh start for the two.

The next time we see the pair is in the kitchen as Jamie surprises Dani by coming back to the manor after initially leaving.

“Made it halfway home and I thought ‘rough day, maybe Poppins might fancy a little boredom.’”

Dani’s shocked excitement quickly turns into awkward nervousness as Hannah and Owen wave them away to spend time together. Jamie gently takes Dani’s hand and guides her out of the room. This presents the reaffirmation that Jamie still cares enough to try again with Dani.

The gardener leads the au pair somewhere off on the grounds of Bly to a secret area where moonflowers have bloomed. She explains how difficult they are to grow in England and how fragile their lifespan is.

“That’s a lot of work for a flower that only blooms once.”

“That’s what people feel like to me. Exhaustive effort, very little to show for it.”

“All of them?”

“All of them. Even you. Even me… especially me.”

Jamie’s emphasis on herself shows her insecurity of not being enough after anyone makes the effort to break down her walls and gets to know who she really is. What follows is a tear-jerking speech that gives insight on Jamie’s past and her painful upbringing. From the details of her childhood like growing up in a broken home, being forced into foster care, and serving time in jail, we begin to understand why she puts such a strong, guarded front. The absence of a family unit in her youth and young adulthood has resulted in her feeling like she may be unlovable. Like she might not be worth the effort of loving. Just as Dani did in episode four, this is Jamie laying everything out on the table for Dani to decide whether or not she will take or leave Jamie and all of her baggage. After Jamie finishes her monologue, Dani gets up and doesn’t say a word. She takes hold of Jamie and kisses her. No words can alleviate the pain that Jamie’s endured but the effort of loving her can be a start. Dani pulls away for a brief moment to reveal a relieved Jamie smiling back at her after she has realized that Dani has chosen to accept her for everything that she is.

The next scene they have together is the morning after Dani finally gets her first restful night’s sleep.

“The au pair could not remember that last time she’d slept this well. And she thought perhaps she never had.”

The moment to highlight in this short scene is Dani stopping to look at herself in the mirror. She is finally able to see her truest self without being haunted of guilt. She smiles as she looks at her reflection and to a sleeping Jamie in the bed next to her. She’s finally made peace with herself.

The final Dani and Jamie scene of the episode occurs at the end of the day just as Dani puts Flora to bed. Here we see the purity in the relationship that the two are creating. We see Dani unapologetically long for Jamie as she says she’s going to leave for the night. The au pair’s subtle look at the gardener’s lips as she speaks and the inching closer and closer to her shows just how high Dani’s confidence levels have risen to after being able to finally love freely. To see Dani in such a smitten state of mind is a breath of fresh air for not only herself but for us, the viewers, who have seen her in such a trapped state of mind when it comes to loving someone. The innocence of longing, in tandem of making the promise of spending other nights together, show how much care and caution they are taking in order to ensure that they’re building their relationship in a healthy manner. What they are both experiencing shows a trade off of what they each have to give to the other. Dani has accepted her sexuality, which is something that seems like Jamie has already done long ago. Meanwhile, Jamie is being loved and wanted, potentially for the first time which is something that Dani has already experienced in her past. Each half of the pairing offers support and guidance to the other as they begin their journey as a couple.

Episode Nine

This final episode of the season was an absolute doozy in terms of Dani and Jamie’s relationship. I’ve watched all of these scenes a solid million times over and I bawl my eyes out every. damn. time. But I mopped up my tear-soaked notebook and carried on for the purpose of this essay. The episode picks up action as Flora sacrifices herself to save Dani from being dragged and choked to death by Viola, the Lady of the Lake. As Jamie and Owen arrive back at the manor after both having awful dreams, they briefly see Hannah as she says that they’re needed at the lake. Jamie bolts the second she hears Dani yelling. She knows Dani’s in trouble and wastes absolutely zero time trying to find her. Jamie yells Dani’s name and you can feel that her sense of urgency has one goal in mind: save Dani.

“It’s you. It’s me. It’s Us.”

Viola has accepted the au pair’s offer. Besides Flora, Jamie is the only witness to see Dani’s last moment of belonging to only herself. From this point on, the darkness begins to fester deep within Dani’s soul and Jamie must live knowing that there was nothing that she could do as she watched Dani let part of herself go to let Viola in. Jamie runs into the lake as Dani’s trauma starts almost immediately. Her breathing is quickened, and she can’t stop repeating those final words that she felt deep in her bones. The gardener holds the au pair and takes one look at her as she already notices the effects of trauma. Dani’s darting eyes are panicked as she struggles to register that Jamie is there with her. Her breathing finally slows as Jamie holds her close in her attempts to calm her down. Jamie is Dani’s grounding force in this moment. Dani has finally freed the ghosts of Bly but at the cost of her own self. Her own life for the souls of the others.

The following scene highlights the days following the incident at the lake, immediately starting with Jamie and Owen looking into the well to find Hannah’s dead body. I wanted to highlight this moment just for the sake of Jamie for she has been there to witness all the deaths of her loved ones firsthand. She was the first adult to find Rebecca in the lake, one of the first to find Hannah in the well, and the first to see Dani die in more ways than one. She just can’t seem to catch a break but after all… death is beautiful, it’s natural.

Jamie finds Dani as she packs away her things however, Dani’s mind appears to be somewhere else. Darkness has begun to burrow itself into Dani’s soul. She’s shaking. She’s terrified. She’s mourning the loss of herself.

“I feel her. In here. It’s so quiet, it’s so quiet, but she’s in here. And this part of her that’s in here, it isn’t… peaceful.”

Dani explains how Viola’s presence feels like a beast waiting for her in a thick jungle. She feels hopeless again but this time feels heavier than all the rest. She has something to lose here now. She has a relationship with Jamie to lose, she has an entire life to lose. It isn’t as simple as feeling the guilt of losing someone or the guilt of loving someone. This feeling isn’t human, this feeling of dread goes beyond what the stages of grief entails. Where is she to go if she can’t go within herself to find peace?

“She’s gonna take me.”

A tear falls down Jamie’s face as these heavy words fall out of Dani’s mouth. This is the first hint of Jamie losing Dani. The fear of the inevitable fills the room with such a weight that no words can alleviate Dani’s pain. Yet Jamie tries. She tries her damn best. She offers her company with the seal of a pinky promise. She gives all that she can offer: herself and her love. Dani’s feeling of darkness doesn’t have to be lonely this time.

After a final goodbye to Henry, Miles, and Flora, the gardener and the au pair set off to start their lives together as the image of Bly fades away into the distance. Their life together starts at a diner as Jamie plans their course of action, hoping to end up in Vermont to see snow by Christmas. Here we see Dani looking at her own reflection in the tableside jukebox before stopping Jamie as she worries that they’re planning too far ahead. Dani’s cautious. She doesn’t want to get either of their hopes up.

“One day at a time is fine by me. As long as those days are with you, Poppins. One day at a time is what we’ve got.”

There’s a brightness in these words which in turn reflect onto them. There’s a light in this moment that shows that they haven’t lost their footing yet. And thus begins the final climb to their highest point before the tragedy that lies ahead occurs. We flashforward to a year later to The Leafling, the flower shop that the pair have opened up together. Dani is still Dani and Jamie is still Jamie but more in love this time than the last time and the time before that.

“You see, I’m not sick of you. At all. I’m actually pretty in love with you, it turns out.”

Here we see the reintroduction of the moonflower. The symbol of Jamie and Dani’s love. The last time we saw the moonflower was back when the pair finally made the choice to accept one another and start their relationship. This time, we see the moonflower one last time as Jamie chooses to solidify their love by finally breaking the big L word.

A montage ensues of the gardener and the au pair’s life together. Years have passed and peace was just finally in their grasp. Or so it seemed. This feeling of fluttering innocence is put to a halt as Dani sees Viola’s reflection in the door of the flower shop. Dani stops in her tracks as she stares at the reflection, her face is still as she stands in a quiet shock. That is until she sees Jamie through the door, smiling at her with such a playful gaze. This instance shows yet again that Jamie is Dani’s grounding force even after all this time and Dani’s own reflection returns not even a second later. This is a moment for the audience to take a peek into Jamie’s importance in Dani’s life, especially at a point that something so vengeful is making its way to the surface. To see Jamie’s smiling face cut through the image of the beast in the jungle, we can’t help but feel the same pain yet also the sense of relief that Dani must feel in this moment. Although Dani returns to herself, we can’t help but feel Viola’s presence looming.

The scene that follows is another significant milestone in Dani and Jamie’s journey together as Dani comes back home with a dying plant that’s concealing an engagement ring. Above the surface, Dani has put the ring in a dying plant because she knew that Jamie would waste no time investigating how to save it. But this can also be interpreted in relation to Jamie’s moonflower speech where she says “every living thing grows out of every dying thing” to show how their relationship is taking the next step of growth as she pulls the ring out of a dying plant. The ring itself is a traditional Irish Claddagh ring, which shows how Dani did her research and chose a ring specific to Jamie’s northern heritage. The hands that make the band of the ring represents friendship, while the heart representing love, and the crown representing loyalty. These representations are fitting for the relationship that the pairing has created and for Dani’s proposal speech.

“Here’s the thing - you’re my best friend and the love of my life. And I don’t know how much time we have left but however much it is, I wanna spend it with you.”

The thing to highlight about Dani and Jamie’s relationship is that it runs on Dani’s timeline which is something that is so important to showcase, especially considering how Edmund had made almost all the choices for her in her previous engagement. Jamie understands this and has always insured that Dani felt comfortable before progressing further into their relationship together. In this moment, Jamie finally has a promise of love while Dani has security in the person she loves the most. As Jamie accepts her proposal and the two share a moment of celebration, Dani’s face of worry as she hugs Jamie shows that she feels an inability to be fully happy. She’s unable to fully give herself to Jamie in this moment which in turn shows how Viola’s presence is getting closer and getting darker.

We jump slightly forward in time to the pair visiting Owen’s aptly named restaurant, A Batter Place. After a moment of remembrance for Hannah, Dani looks into the reflection of a metal water pitcher to see Viola’s reflection yet again. Dani’s face is surprised by this sight, but she keeps it quietly to herself as to not ruin the moment of reunion. If we compare this instance to the first time Dani looked at her reflection at the tableside jukebox at the diner years prior, we can see that this moment is filled with much more darkness. The light that used to be inside of her is dimming. Although Jamie is holding her and is physically next to her in this moment, she doesn’t cut through the darkness anymore. Jamie’s power as a grounding force is dimming as well.

“So, they’re all happy?”

The inflection in Dani’s voice here is so subtle that only Jamie takes notice of it. Jamie looks at Dani and senses that something has gone off in her. Owen continues to explain how Miles and Flora have no recollection of the events that took place at Bly. No recollection of the sacrifice that Dani made to save them.

“So, if they don’t remember Hannah…they don’t remember…”

Dani’s voice trails off here. She looks down and is caught in the bitter realization that her sacrifice has been forgotten. This feeling of a looming darkness, this feeling of living a life that’s ticking down to her own demise… was it worth it? Jamie can feel Dani’s pain immediately as her eyes stayed glued on Dani who’s trying to see if there would be any way to remind Miles and Flora about what she did. The gardener stares at au pair without breaking away and in this instant, we can see that, along with Dani, Jamie is breaking too. Breaking under the burden of knowing that she can’t take Dani’s pain away.

The scene that follows shows Dani washing dishes where she sees Viola again in the water. She panics and finally admits to Jamie that she’s been seeing her more and more. The tension that was present between them moments earlier immediately fades away as Jamie wastes no time in trying to console Dani. Jamie’s blind optimism here has a slight tinge of desperation as she refuses to let Dani slip away into the abyss that’s growing stronger and stronger. Dani’s interaction with Viola’s reflection in this moment sets off an alarm bell within her, unlike the other times where she sat quietly and dealt with it on her own. This is Dani’s tipping point. The highest level of fear is felt as the reality is beginning to sink in that the beast is coming for her. Another thing to note here is that even after all these years, Jamie still makes the conscious effort to make Dani laugh.

“I’ll do the washing up from now on, yeah? You’re shit at it anyway.”

Dani can’t help but give the smallest laugh, but it’s more than enough for Jamie. Through Jamie’s optimism, we have begun to see that she’s not only consoling Dani but also herself as she tries to convince both of them that they can have so much more time together. The episode continues on with the train of heartbreak as Jamie comes home after receiving civil union paperwork for her and Dani. What comes next is what I feel like is the most heartbreaking Dani moment in the entire series. Dani stares deep into an overflowing bathtub where an ominous Viola stares back at her. Jamie is quick to bring Dani back to reality but Dani has lost her footing. Her hold on Viola has flipped to Viola having a hold on her.

“It’s like every day I feel myself fading away, but I’m still here, and… I don’t really understand how that is.”

The fear has withered away into emptiness as Dani struggles to stay afloat. We see Jamie so pained as she watches the light fade into a grey nothingness as she listens to Dani talk about how she is beginning to lose herself to the beast.

“I’m not even scared of her anymore. I just stare at her, and it’s getting harder and harder to see me.”

To listen to the love of her life slip away through her fingers has Jamie in a phase of denial as she continuously refuses to let Dani break apart. We see the gardener’s optimism wavering as she tries her best to help the au pair hold onto herself. Dani’s voice as she says Jamie’s name is filled with nothing but pure hopelessness and despair as she dips further and further into uncertainty. Yet Jamie doesn’t lose hope. Jamie would never give up on Dani as she repeats the words she told Dani in the diner all those years ago.

“One day at a time.”

However, Jamie has run out of answers. She can only offer comfort now.

Next we see Dani hit her lowest low as she is taken over by Viola and awakes to see that she almost strangled Jamie to death in their sleep. Dani is shocked and broken as she sits in the disbelief of what she almost did. The time has come. The beast has arrived. Viola has waited years until Dani was so broken down and so vulnerable, that she would finally be able to take her. However, we can’t help but believe that Dani fought off Viola this long thanks to the love her and Jamie shared.

The gardener wakes up the following morning to find an empty space next to her. She reaches to the empty space in the bed and then for the note left on the bedside table. It can only mean one thing: her biggest fear has come to light. With her strong will and determination, Jamie gives one final push and flies back across the pond to Bly to face what she’s been in fear of all this time. The amount of immense grief that is felt in this moment, to be at the same place that the love of her life began to be taken away from her all those years ago, must be incredibly damaging. The manor holds so much of Jamie’s life. She found her family there. She created a beautiful garden on those grounds. Her and Dani’s love blossomed on the same grounds that she first began to lose her that night at the lake. Jamie storms off to the edge of the water. Her face is so tired. She already knows what she’s going to find and yet she still doesn’t lose the hope that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be true.

“The gardener said the words she’d heard those years ago; she willed it with everything she had. You, me, us. Us. ‘Take me with you,’ she cried in her heart. ‘Take me. Drag me down like you did the others.’ But the lady in the lake was different now – the lady in the lake was also Dani. And Dani wouldn’t. Dani would never.”

The agony and desperation that we see Jamie endure in the moments that we see her find Dani laying at the very bottom of the lake is a type of pain that is unmatched from any other moment of pain that we’ve seen this season. Her muffled screams as she takes a hold of her heart, only to let her arms go in despair under the water is something so haunting yet so unbelievably moving to see her love so much considering how far she’s come from the cold and guarded gardener we saw all the way back in episode one. She would’ve given up everything. Absolutely everything to take Dani’s place. Given up everything to join Dani at the bottom of the lake. Unlike Peter with Rebecca, Dani could never take Jamie down to the depths. Dani could never harm a single soul, let alone the one person that mattered the most to her. By letting Jamie go and taking Viola’s place as the lady of the lake, Dani has broken the cycle of violence that’s haunted the grounds of Bly for centuries. As Jamie was the hero of Dani’s story, Dani will always be the hero to Jamie’s.

The final act of the season ends with an older Jamie finishing her story to the wedding guests.

“She would know nothing of the gardener, nothing of their life together. The details, the specific moments would all fade away. More time will pass, and the water will wash away the delicate features of her; of her beautiful, perfect face. But she won’t be hollow, nor empty. And she won’t pull others to her fate. She will merely walk the grounds of Bly, harmless as a dove, for all of her days. Leaving the only trace of who she once was in the memory of the woman who loved her most.”

We see an older Jamie comfort a teary-eyed Flora who is afraid of the time when she would also lose the love of her life. Jamie comforts her with advice that we can only ever assume she learned in her time with Dani. The final scene shows the gardener’s nightly routine as she stares into reflections, hoping to catch one last glimpse of the au pair. As she drifts away into sleep, a hand wearing a golden wedding ring rests gently on her shoulder. Our haunting love story has come to an end. And the rest? Well the rest… is confetti.

#dani x jamie #dani clayton #jamie taylor #thobm #the haunting of bly manor #damie #amelia eve #victoria pedretti #bly manor

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sophie-jen · 3 years

Text

“Prove it”

answer to @jilytoberfest prompt: “Prove it”

read on ao3 / ffn

Hidden by the cover of night, an eerie castle loomed in the darkness. Woodland creatures never strayed too close, for there were tales of dreadful goings-on within the tall stone walls. The sound of tinkling glass and polite conversation drifted out into the surrounding forest, curling through twisted trees like smoke, while pale moonlight poured in through the narrow windows, illuminating the sinister soirée taking place inside.

Two gentlemen stood beneath a cluster of candles, speaking agitatedly and paying no heed to the other party-goers. One had artfully coiffed shoulder-length black hair, and was swatting repeatedly at the candles floating not far above as he spoke, while the other, who was bespectacled and had a head of hair that could only be described as the opposite of coiffed, eyed the nearby window like he was considering defenestrating himself at any moment.

Candle swatter’s voice rose in pitch as he gleefully hammered the final nail in his interlocutor’s coffin.

“Prove it,” he sneered, watching the confused man in front of him with poorly hidden jubilation. In his excitement, he gripped his wine glass so hard he risked shattering it, spilling the viscous red contents in the process. He had the idiot cornered, and he would relish it like a cat playing with its food.

“Excuse me?” the man asked.

“I don’t believe you,” he said again.

“Well, what do you suppose I do, Mr. Black? Go into anaphylaxis to reassure you I’m not lying?” the flustered gentleman responded, trying his best to hold his ground.

“Except I know there won’t be any anaphylaxis, Mr. Potter,” Mr. Black retorted, “because you’re not really allergic.”

Mr. Potter ran a hand tensely through his hair, at a loss for words. He was saved from further interrogation by someone calling his name.

They both turned to see a woman in a black evening gown holding two glasses and walking toward them, eyes trained on Mr. Potter. “James, you’ll never believe what Morticia told me...”

“Honey!” James practically yelled, relief immediately apparent in his slumped shoulders and softening face. He took a step toward her, grabbing onto her forearm as though anchoring himself.

The woman smiled bemusedly at him, unsure how to interpret the outburst. She had hair as striking as her husband’s, though hers was a deep, blood red, and fell past her shoulders. James gratefully accepted the glass she handed him, taking a long drink, before remembering that they weren’t alone and turning back to his tormentor with a look of dread.

“This is Sirius Black.” James gestured toward Sirius, though he did not take a step back towards him. “Mr. Black, this is my wife.”

The redhead looked over, noticing for the first time the particularly pale looking gentleman standing across from her husband, who was going to great pains to look moody and mysterious.

“I hadn’t realized I was interrupting,” she said. “Lillian Potter, but you can just call me Lily.” She strode closer, James following reluctantly behind, and held a manicured hand out, the nails deadly sharp.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lily,” Sirius greeted her, watching her claws carefully as they shook hands.

There followed an awkward pause as they all stood looking at each other. Lily had evidently been expecting them to continue their previous conversation, which James did not seem eager to do, and Sirius didn’t feel quite as confident in his attack in her presence.

“So, Sirius– is it alright if I call you Sirius?” The man in question nodded, not seeing any other option. Lily continued. “How was your trip? We’re holding this little party in quite a remote location this year.”

“The trip was very pleasant. My car– er, carriage, I mean, kept me shielded from the inclement weather.”

“Your carriage?” The couple looked surprised at this. “I haven’t heard of anyone coming in a carriage in years. It’s quite an old tradition,” Lily commented with a smile. “Why didn’t you fly?”

Sirius took a moment to ponder the question, swirling the liquid in his glass, though he did not drink any. “Naturally, I couldn’t risk ruining my hair. A lot of work goes into maintaining it, you know.” He smoothed the black strands delicately. “Funnily enough, I wanted to check it earlier and couldn’t find a single mirror here,” he added.

Lily burst into laughter, as though the notion of having a mirror was uproariously funny. “Yes, that took me some getting used to at first.”

James, having grown less weary now that Sirius was acting civilly, finally chimed in. “I don’t mean to pry, but I can’t say I’ve heard of the name Black before. Are you...” he winced, not knowing how to broach the sensitive topic, “new?”

A flash of confusion disappeared in Sirius’ eyes as quickly as it had appeared. “Yes, yes I am,” he answered, putting on a sorrowful face, which seemed to fit the tone of the question.

“I’m so sorry,” said Lily. “That must be so hard for you. We’re glad you could make it to this little gathering though. Having a sense of community was very comforting for us in the beginning.”

James hummed softly at the words, settling a reassuring arm around Lily’s shoulders.

“What about you?” inquired Sirius. “Are you new?”

“No, not at all. It’s been–” James began, and looked down at Lily. She shrugged, a sad smile on her face. “Years,” he sighed. “You lose count eventually.”

Sirius had no idea what response would be appropriate in this situation. “You’ve aged quite well,” he said.

“Well, we were quite young when it happened,” Lily remarked. The small party sank back into silence, Lily and James looking on with wise solemnity, while Sirius looked a little lost.

“So!” exclaimed James, in an attempt to liven the mood. “What do you think of the refreshments?” He winked at Sirius.

“Marvelous!” Sirius held his glass up, which was still just as full as it had been at the beginning of the evening.

“They’re particularly delicious this year,” said Lily. “But you haven’t drunk anything. Are you not feeling well?”

“You know, now that you mention it–” started Sirius.

“Oh, he was doing just fine earlier, sweetie,” interrupted James with a scoff.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius’ apprehension grew as he realized that James was no longer turning the other cheek, instead choosing to bite back.

Lily looked confused at the sudden display of animosity. “James...” she muttered, warning in her tone as she placed a placating hand on his arm.

“He was full of energy right up until you got back!” James accused, his voice growing louder.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about, Lily.” Sirius leaned towards her and spoke in a conspiratorial tone, as though her husband shouldn’t be privy to what he had to say.

James looked affronted. “He tried to make me eat garlic!” he cried, pointing at Sirius like he was tattling to a teacher.

“I did not!” lied Sirius, with the instinct of a 4-year-old being accused of stealing his classmate’s pencils.

Lily simply stared. At length, the poor woman asked, “What?”

“He asked me whether I’m allergic to garlic,” James explained, “and when I told him I was, he said he didn’t believe me. He tried to convince me to prove it to him by eating some in front of him!” he finished, a whiny edge to his voice.

She whirled on Sirius. “You tried to convince my husband to eat garlic?”

Sirius only stared, figuring it was best to keep his mouth shut.

“Why would you–” Lily looked at him in confusion for a beat, and suddenly her eyes widened in comprehension. Sirius’ heart dropped as he watched her turn to James, who was having a revelation of his own, and saw the understanding pass between them. They looked back at him in unison.

Before he could understand what was happening, Lily had grabbed him by the wrist and was dragging him out of the room, James following quickly behind. She pulled him into an empty corridor, lit only by a few sconces hanging on the stone walls.

“Who are you?” she hissed, her eyes glowing red in the murky darkness.

“Please don’t drink my blood!” howled Sirius, “I’m young! I’ve got a long life ahead of me!”

“Shut up, you prat,” growled James, slapping a hand over the prat’s mouth.

“We’re not going to hurt you, but you need to tell us who you are and what you’re doing here right this instant, or I cannot promise that things won’t get ugly,” threatened Lily. She nodded at James to let go of the whimpering intruder.

It all came spilling out. “I’m not a vampire! The invitation was delivered to me by mistake and I figured it was a joke, but when I got here and realized you were all actually drinking blood out of bloody wine glasses it was too late to leave! I just did my best to blend in,” he finished meekly.

“By accusing a vampire of lying about his garlic allergy?” Lily asked incredulously.

“You’re shitting me,” came the sound of James’ voice from off to the side.

Sirius looked over at him apprehensively, expecting to see anger, or worse, hunger. But James was looking at him with an expression of such wondrous awe that Sirius thought for a moment he might kiss him. “Mate,” James said hoarsely, “that’s wicked.” His face split into a shit-eating grin.

Puzzled yet thrilled by the development, Sirius grinned back. The two boys immediately began chattering, speaking over each other in their excitement.

“–the balls to do something like this–”

“–really like the taste of blood?”

“–a carriage? Oh yes, it’s delicious–”

“–it seemed old-fashioned, and you’re, like, old. Can you really not see your reflection?”

“No, it’s a bloody nightmare. But we never age! On the other hand–”

“Sorry about the garlic thing, by the–”

“–no more cake. No worries, but I really am seriously allergic–”

“–can fly?!”

At the mention of flying, James’ eyes lit up. “Wanna see?” he asked excitedly. He took a few steps back and turned into a bat to the sound of Sirius’ whoops of delight.

Lily watched her husband fly around a cheering Sirius from a safe distance away. “Un-fucking-believable,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose so hard she looked like she might draw blood. Had there been any blood to draw.

Several minutes later, after an aerial demonstration and a tour of James’ fangs, they were finally able to discuss more pressing matters. Sirius now had to field Lily’s questions, which weren’t quite as easy to answer as James’.

“Why would you go all the way out to the middle of nowhere, to a party you weren’t invited to, with people you didn’t know?” she inquired.

“Because he’s awesome.”

“James, please.”

“Right. Er, this is very serious.” James waggled his finger gravely in his newfound soulmate’s face. “We do need to figure out a way to get him out of here though,” he remarked, looking back at Lily.

“Can’t you just fly me out?” Sirius asked, all inhibitions lost now that he had James to back him up.

“You think a bat can carry your body weight?” Lily snapped, at her wit’s end.

“I read about a passage through the cellar that leads out into the forest, I think,” offered James, feeling guilty for having left Lily on her own to try and solve the very real issue of Sirius’ presence at a party of bloodsuckers.

“That might work. Lead the way.” She exhaled tiredly, then hummed appreciatively when James wrapped a supportive arm around her waist.

The unlikely trio made their way down the hallway together, Lily’s head resting on James’ shoulder as she grudgingly answered Sirius’ barrage of questions about the ethics of vampirism.

The two vampires and the impostor snuck out of the castle and disappeared into the gloomy night.

#possibly biting off more than I can chew #but here we go #jilytoberfest #jilytober #lily evans #james potter #james x lily #jily art #jily fanfiction #jily oneshot #jilytober 2021 #prompt 1

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krreader · 4 years

Text

BTS reacting to another idol flirting with you when you come and visit them.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts ; monsta x ; exo ; nct ; kard ; seventeen ; super junior ; got7 warnings: language genre: fluff ; crack word count: 1.7k+

a/n: I’m always scared with these kind of requests that they’re repetitive because I’ve done requests like these before. But I do hope that it’s still fun to read and that you like it ♥

kim seokjin

Jin and you had your anniversary today. However, an idol can't exactly postpone a performance because of a reason such as this one, especially when no fan even knew he was in a relationship in the first place.

You understood, though. You had known what you'd get yourself into the moment you two agreed to turn this into something serious and so you weren't angry at him for doing his job. You had simply agreed that you'd pick him up from the show and then you'd either go and have dinner or drive over to his apartment to cook together, depending on how tired he was.

You must have come a little early though, because when Jin walked out of their dressing room, all ready to go, he found you standing in the hallway talking to Jooheon.

“No, don't be ridiculous. Get your things, I'm driving you there.”

“You're the best and I love you,” Jooheon kissed your cheek, then ran into his dressing room to get his things.

And well, Jin had seen this and stared at you with an open mouth, not quite believing what he had just witnessed, especially the nonchalant look that you had on your face threw him off.

“What? He wants to call someone to pick him up, the address is on our way, we'll just drop him off.”

“And he couldn't say that to you like any other normal human being? He had to say I love you and... kiss your cheek?”

“He’s like family. Jooheon loves you like an older brother. Do you really think he'd ever do something to risk that relationship?”

Probably not.

And when Jooheon walked back out and you three walked to your car, Jin asked: “It's not your apartment. Where are you going?”

“Ah.. it’s.. my girlfriend, hyung.”

No reason to be jealous. None.

min yoongi

“You're finally awake,” Hoseok laughed when Yoongi opened his eyes and slowly sat up, brushing his hands over his face, “(Y/N) stopped by. But since you were asleep, she wandered off.”

“Where to?” he asked with a yawn.

“Don't know. She said something about needing to see Baekhyun.”

Oh boy, despite the lack of sleep due to him having worked his ass off all night long, he sprinted out of the make-up room in search of you, until he found you talking in an empty hallway with Baekhyun.

“I'm not messing around,” he chuckled, “I'm telling the truth.”

“You're an idiot,” you shook your head, but there was a smile on your face.

“Am I interrupting?” Yoongi stood between you two and since you hadn't exactly been far away from each other, he now suddenly stood very close to Baekhyun.

“Ah, Yoongi,” Baekhyun chuckled a little uncomfortably and took a step back, “We were just.. I mean, we just..-” he cleared his throat, turning around to nothing but emptiness, “Ah, those are my guys. I better get back. Nice talking to you, (Y/N).”

Despite Yoongi being younger, Baekhyun knew when to step back. This must have looked like something it really wasn’t, but from someone that had just walked in, he understood why Yoongi didn’t like what he saw.

“He keeps doing that. They keep doing that. Why do they keep doing that,” Yoongi muttered mostly to himself, then grabbed your hand and interlinked your fingers with his, “You’re mine.”

You giggled a little at how possessive he suddenly became.

jung hoseok

Hoseok had only left for like five minutes, but when he came back, he found you in deep conversation with Yuta, talking about, what sounded to him like, Yuta asking you to come to Japan with him, because he could easily show you around.

Who did that?

Who asked someone who was in a relationship to go on vacation with him? That wasn’t cool.

“She's good,” Hoseok interrupted, before Yuta could speak more on it, “We've already planned our next vacations. Japan isn't on the list unfortunately. But thank you for the offer.”

He didn't give him another chance to speak, only waited until Yuta was gone to turn around.

“You just made a fool out of yourself, Hoseok.”

“Because I don't want some guy to take my girlfriend to his home country?”

“Because I asked him if he could make me a list of things that we could do. Japan might not be on our list, but I wanted to add it as a surprise for you,” you shrugged, “Now you ruined it and I doubt he's ever going to talk to me again, because everyone in this industry has too much respect for you. So good job, buddy. Your jealousy once again clouded your judgment.”

He felt like the biggest fucking idiot on the planet.

kim namjoon

This is exactly why Namjoon didn't like taking you to award shows with him.

In a world where everyone was so special, the one that wasn't an idol, but also wasn't a staff member, was the most interesting person in the room. So naturally, everyone was drawn to you. What were you doing here? Who were you with? Where were you from?

And then there were those who didn't know that you were in a relationship with Namjoon and they just outright asked questions like: Are you still single? Do you want to go out with me?

And unfortunately, tonight was no different.

“I just think it's nice to see someone else who speaks English like me,” Matthew from KARD grinned at you with a little more than simple curiosity in his eyes.

Namjoon saw that little spark and he crossed the room in an instant.

“I don't think it's that special. There are many people here who speak English well, like..-”

“Like her boyfriend,” Namjoon smiled, even though that smile didn't reach his eye. And he didn't want to start trouble here, he actually really liked Matthew and he knew he was older so he wanted to be respectful. So he ended up excusing you two and pulled you away from him, since that seemed to be the best and easiest option to get out of the conversation.

“Jealous, are we?”

“Of him?” Namjoon snorted, squeezing your butt once he was sure that nobody was looking, “I know I don't have to be jealous of anyone, sweetheart.”

His actions told a different story though.

park jimin

Jimin had been so excited about today.

He had practiced so hard for this performance, was ready to show it to his fans and everyone else that was here at this show and to top it all off, you had managed to get a day off and could watch him perform live for the first time in a very long time.

So Jimin walked up on that stage and showed everyone that he was indeed one of the world's most talented singers and dancers, only to walk off stage to find you not beaming at him like he had hoped, but instead, talking with a few guys from Seventeen.

“You're so sweet,” was the first thing Jimin heard you say to the youngest of the group, Dino blushing from ear to ear.

No, this was definitely not what he had hoped, nor wanted.

He was jealous, also a little bit disappointed, but mostly jealous. That is why he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, despite all the sweat.

All of the Seventeen members immediately bowed, almost all scurrying off as soon as he appeared, except for Dino, who lingered a little longer.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he smiled happily at you, then he ran after his members.

You looked up, grinning when you found your boyfriend glaring so hard that if he had laser beam powers, he would glare holes into Dino's back.

“You don't have to be jealous. He told me that he was a fan of my writing style and how I'm the only author he reads articles from nowadays,” Jimin relaxed instantly, but there was still the matter of you not..- “And also, you were fantastic up on that stage. I'm so proud of you, baby.”

Oh, well, in that case.

kim taehyung

Taehyung often felt like you going to award shows with him was kind of pointless, since he was either out watching others perform, or performing himself. He didn't have a lot of time to spend backstage.

But today, they had a really special performance and a rather long one that he wanted you to witness live, especially because he had hyped it up so much beforehand.

Performance in itself was good, but when he walked out and into the green room, he found you at a table with Super Junior members.

“I just think it's really interesting, why you chose him, I mean.”

Taehyung's jealousy flared up to the ceiling and he was about to waltz in there and tell them to leave you alone, despite them being so much older and more experienced, but he was glad that he stopped in his tracks before he did.

“He was there for me when I needed him most, despite him being so busy. We were friends before we became partners and I don't think anyone knows me as good as he does. I'm dating my soulmate, it's as easy as that.”

You shut them up the right way and Taehyung just watched with a soft smile, once again realizing how lucky he was.

jeon jeongguk

The moment that Jeongguk saw you talking to BamBam and Yugyeom, he made his way over and put his hands on your shoulders, beginning to massage them.

“Can you not flirt with my girlfriend please?”

“We just asked her why she didn't pick one of us, but you. We're more handsome than you ever could be,” BamBam teased.

“They actually just asked what cologne you were using today, because you smelled fantastic.”

“Wow, you're such a traitor,” Yugyeom got up, sticking out his tongue before leaving you and Jeongguk on your own.

Jeongguk grinned and leaned down to kiss your cheek, whispering a soft: “I love you,” into your ear.

Dream team.

#bts imagine #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan reaction #bangtan boys #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #bangtan sonyeondan #reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan boys x reader #requests

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mediocre--writing · 3 years

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i know we always talk about billy easily submitting to his dad but imagine this:

neil is charismatic, that must be where billy gets it, because he has the whole town fooled. nobody sees the demonic beast hiding under human flesh.

neil knows all the neighbors by name. he treats the custodian as he treats his boss. he offers help to old ladies with groceries and helps them cross the street.

people wonder why billy seems to glare at his father and disobey him so often; for how good a man neil is, it’s astonishing how resentful billy is of him.

billy will snark back in public, blatantly roll his eyes, flip him the bird when he’s not looking (and leave it up long enough for him to see when he turns).

the party thinks he’s an asshole who hates everyone. steve can’t believe the amount of disrespect he gives his dad. nancy and jonathan are floored at the vulgar words he speaks about him with, how he talks about him to his face.

max is more sympathetic than ever. how neil is so well known and widely liked by the people of hawkins and how nobody would ever even begin to believe a word of the truth billy could tell.

it’s almost like there’s nothing to be done. because as awful as neil is, there’s some days when billy won’t shut his mouth. and it gets him into trouble.

he’s spiteful and vindictive and vulgar when they shout at each other, but once billy is shoved against the wall, it’s a 50/50 chance he’s gonna fight back.

some days he can’t be bothered. is sick and tired of his own life, he lets the one ‘warning’ hit be enough.

other days he shoves back. he always gets shoved harder after. he’ll rile neil up to the point of maximum damage, but it’s so easy to get him angry it’s almost funny.

billy wishes, every time he gets hit, that some random townsperson would just walk into their living room. or kitchen. or billy’s bedroom. or, on one occasion, their back yard.

nobody sees billy hargrove: victim of abuse. they see billy hargrove: hates the nicest man in town. it’s ridiculous and billy can’t stand it.

he’s almost 18 now. he’s sick of hawkins and ready to leave and go anywhere but where his dad is.

but he wants one last joyride on the anger express. maybe ruin a reputation in the process.

so he acts out one day, while they’re walking down the sidewalk from a store max and susan had wanted to look at before grocery shopping.

billy knows how to get under neil’s skin. it’s one of the things he prides himself in knowing well.

he makes an off handed comment about how shitty it is that he’s being dragged into family outings. “we aren’t even a family,” he’ll say.

neil will give him a look. one that says he’s gonna get it when they’re home. where nobody can see who neil really is.

then billy brings up his mother, how she was so much better than neil could ever be. “she made the right decision to leave you,” he snickers as he watches neil’s fists clench.

a myriad of comments follow. ones about how neil is gonna lose another wife. ones about how he still can’t get billy into place. ones about how awful it must be to enjoy hating children.

there’s one more thing that he’s depending on to be the final fuse to make neil explode, right in broad daylight. bringing in the one thing neil hates most in life: “it’s too bad you’ve got a faggot for a son, huh?” billy says, just loud enough to be almost heard by the old lady walking a few steps in front of them.

when neil’s mustache curls into a pained grimace, billy knows he’s won. knows that he’s got the upper hand of the situation, even if he’s gonna get hit for it.

knows, right when the name “william,” comes out, threatening as ever, that he has won.

so he adds fuel to the fire. “do you think red or pink lipstick would look better with my complexion?” just to see the extra line that forms above neil’s eyebrows.

neil stops walking. turns to look at billy. they’re still in the middle of the sidewalk, max and susan a few feet away, stopped as well. max looks like she wants the floor to swallow her whole.

“well, you know, when i become a drag queen, i’ll have to look good, right?” billy asks his father, and it’s like he’s lost control over his own mouth. “so what’ll it be, dad? pink or red?”

and maybe the alarm bells and flashing red lights in billy’s head should have stopped him from talking. maybe he should have let this grocery trip be about getting weekly groceries.

but something about how he could see his fathers breathing speed up and his face turn so pink it’s almost purple, it’s fun.

with the added addition of seeing some of max’s little friends leaving the theatre at that moment.

right when the boys notice max, neil lunges for billy.

the old lady that had been steps in front of them has turned to see what the thud behind her was, only to see neil holding billy by his collar and his neck, shoved against a brick wall, billy’s toes barely touching the floor.

for being in such a compromising position, billy shouldn’t look as smug as he does when the old lady drops her purse with a gasp or when he sees max’s friends’ faces contort with fear. or when he sees harrington exit the movie theatre as well.

it happens quickly, the fight. billy thinks his brain went black and acted on instinct, he doesn’t remember a thing.

but the bystanders see it all. how close neil leans in to sneer something in billy’s face. how billy laughs, then lifts a knee to hit neil where it hurts.

how he stumbles enough for billy to get on his own two feet.

there’s a quick moment where neither moves, then neil rams into billy, but billy keeps his balance well, planted feet and all, and shoved neil back.

within the next minute, they’re both on the floor and alternating who’s got the upper hand. they’re decently matched as opponents, but neil has the upper hand. he’s taken billy down so many times he knows just how to bring him down physically, like how billy can destroy neil with words.

max and susan are backed up another few yards, susan holding max behind her, but not saying a thing. both are too shocked. this has never happened in public.

the party are watching from across the road, and steve feels like he should do something, because neil just slammed billys head into the cement. and he can’t really tell from how far they are, but billy’s nose is sure to be broken.

“call hopper,” steve instructs the party as he moves to walk across the street.

dustin grabs his arm before he can move far. “billy beat you once before, and now there’s like two of him, steve!”

steve walks over anyway. billy had been straddling neil prior, pushing a finger into his shoulder, before being slammed back to the ground.

there’s many different slurs being spewed from neil’s mouth, many of which change steve’s perception of billy entirely, but that’s not important now.

steve gets to where susan and max are when neil gets a grip on billy’s dangly dagger earring and pulls until it rips out of billy’s ear.

susan is staring, horrified at the scene, and max has shoved her face into the pink cardigan her mother wore, peeking out every moment or so.

when she spots steve, she doesn’t feel relived like she hoped she might, she just feels worse. more people don’t need to be involved.

“max, the party’s over there if you wanna...” steve suggests, motioning over his shoulder where the boys are crowded around a pay phone.

max pulls susan along with her across the road, glancing back at steve, who doesn’t seem to know what to do either.

what is he supposed to do? it’s not like dustin was wrong, steve’s never won a fight on his own.

luckily, right as he sees neil stand up and literally stomp as hard as he could on billy’s elbow, backwards, he hears a siren.

sees hopper’s cruiser pull around the corner and feels like a weight is both equally being lifted off his chest and being pushed down heavier.

neil is standing above billy, a few scrapes and forming bruises, ruffled clothes and a tear in the polo he was wearing, but nothing more damaged than his ego.

billy, on the other hand, is laying face down on the concrete, elbow bending in a way that is not natural and half his face covered in blood from both his nose and his ear.

neil looks only mildly frightened by hoppers appearance, and something about it rests uneasy with steve.

steve feels like he’s having an out of body experience as things happen. like he’s only there to observe, which he kinda is, but it’s hazy.

susan comes back, along with the boys following a shaken up max.

another cop, steve thinks it’s callahan, tries to wake billy up, because at some point neil had rendered him unconscious.

neil looks calm while this happens. he has an almost proud air about him as he watches a man try to wake up his son that he’d beaten so bad, he’d passed out.

it makes steve sick.

it also makes steve wonder if this were a semi common occurrence.

billy is driven to the hospital, mostly because his nose is crooked, his ear is still bleeding, and his elbow is most definitely facing the wrong direction, but they also think he may have cracked a rib or two.

neil is driven off in a cop car, callahan’s, while hopper stays to take stories.

it’s news to steve when susan and max share that this has happened multiple times, just never to such a detrimental state.

max recalls the first time that she’d met billy, he’d been wearing a cast on his arm and refused to tell her how he broke it.

steve sees billy in his head. sees the bruises on billy’s back when they’d play shirts and skins and how he’d chalked it up to a childish fight or a fun night with a girl.

sees how billy would favor his left leg for two weeks during basketball, and only wear sweats, but steve had noticed bruising around his right ankle when he’d change his shoes.

sees how billy seems to have insanely good intuition to when people are behind him or when he’s in a crowded place, always on the lookout.

sees, not justification, but a reason behind the way billy acts.

steve can’t imagine, even if his dad was like neil hargrove, having enough nerve to hit him back. even speak rudely towards him.

he recalls all the times he’d seen billy talk shit about his dad or snark at him in public. now he sees them as acts of bravery and defiance from an abuser rather than impolite and hateful towards a parent.

billy’s been fighting this whole time. and he’s been on the right side of the fight.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #steve harrington #kinda but not really harringrove but imma tag it anyway #harringrove #mw harringrove #mediocre—writing #lol none of this is proof read so good luck #tw abuse #tw domestic violence #tw neil hargrove #tw gore #kinda??

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jimakuchan · 4 years

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And They Were Roommates...

Part Fifty

The village of Gaipan was a sleepy town, surrounded by a gorgeous landscape filled with some of the tallest redwood trees Zuko had ever seen. If it weren’t for the stressful situation he found himself in, he might have taken a moment to appreciate the beauty of the sun sinking into the horizon amongst the tree tops.. but unfortunately now was not the time to take in the wonders of nature around him.

“Uncle would be so disappointed” Zuko thought to himself. Iroh always chastised him for not appreciating the little things in life, but everything happening right now was not a little thing. It was a very big thing. A possibly life changing thing was about to happen to Zuko, and despite the pep talk Aang and Sokka gave him, Zuko’s leg was shaking from nerves. He could feel his hands clamming up, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was clenching his fist, and his entire body was on edge... waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The entrance to the camp sight was just around the corner, and Katara was taking her time with driving on the uneven dirt road. It took everything within Zuko’s power to not yell at her to speed up. His friends were here doing him a favor, he needed to be patient. He took a deep breath in, holding it in his lungs, relishing in the burn before he let the air escape out his mouth. Memories of the text conversations running rampant in his head, the fear that he was too late sitting comfortably in the forefront of his mind.

“Just stay calm, everything will be alright” Zuko heard his mother’s voice in his head, but it felt like a lie. How long had he been lying to himself? About his feelings towards Y/N, his family, his friends, Spirits his life? Everything felt like it was spiraling out of control. What was that exercise Aang taught him again? In for four out for four? Mindfulness? Zuko couldn’t remember and frankly didn’t really care to at the moment.

“We’re here” Katara’s voice echoed throughout the SUV. Zuko felt it then, the drop. His stomach was swirling inside of him and he felt the bile rise up his throat. It was now or never. Zuko felt so sure of himself when he sprinted outside of the apartment earlier today, where did that energy go?

“Are you okay man?” Sokka placed his hand on Zuko’s shoulder, a reassuring touch that he so desperately needed. It grounded Zuko, and he started to believe the lie his thoughts told him moments ago.

“Yes” Zuko replied, Sokka furrowed his brows but didn’t comment on it any further.

“Okay then let’s go!” Sokka’s face broke out into a wide grin, how he managed to stay so calm and collected all the time was beyond him.

“Yea go get your girl Sparky!” Toph shouted from the middle seat. Zuko looked around at the faces of his friends, hope filled all of their eyes. He wished he could have an ounce of their faith. With a deep sigh he exited the car, taking his first step in the dirt and looked at the campsite around him. The rest of the gaang followed suit soon after.

“Do you know what cabin she’s in?” Suki asked as they were walking towards the small campsite. A litter of log cabins surrounded the large fire pit in the center. It was a pretty decent place for a corporate retreat, something Zuko might even consider doing in the future. That is, if this all ended well. He didn’t think he could handle visiting the place where he was painfully rejected within a business setting.

“Not sure I just know it’s the women’s cabin. I’m sure we could ask someone.” Katara answered. She sounded sure of herself, but the way she was fidgeting with her bag gave her away. She was nervous too, and that’s when it dawned on him. Jet. The bane of their existence was here, and Katara hadn’t seen him since he caught him cheating on her with Y/N. Zuko admired her bravery. He had talked this out with Y/N, how much what Jet did to them hurt her, but he didn’t dwell on it too much with Katara. The possibility of running into him must be bothering her. Aang must have picked up on Katara’s nerves too, because he went to go hold her hand and kissed her cheek. Katara smiled at the gesture, and Zuko hated the jealous feeling that crept into his gut.

He wished he could be that way with Y/N, to hold her hand and kiss her cheek when she was feeling down. Did they know the gift they possessed? To be unapologetically affectionate with each other? They must know. Zuko could see it when they looked at each other. He just hoped that he could have that in his future with Y/N.

“Over there! That’s Y/N’s cooler on the porch!” Zuko looked to where Suki was pointing. The cabin to the far left of the fire pit must be hers. The bright red cooler filled to the brim with stickers sat neatly next to the front door of the cabin; he could see the bright yellow EI sticker she bought from Ember Island on the front. Before he even realized his feet were moving, Zuko sprinted towards the cabin. He nearly tripped on the rickety steps on his way in. With a bit too much of his strength, Zuko slammed open the cabin door.

“Y/N?” Zuko shouted inside. The cabin itself was decent, four beds lined the back wall with a wide window separating each pair of beds. The bed next to the window had Y/N’s duffel bag resting at the edge of it. A kitchenette was to the right, filled with the snacks Y/N bought for the trip. To the left was a small table with a few chairs, Y/N’s travel mug sat on top of it in the center. Yep, this was definitely hers.

“She’s not here” Zuko nearly jumped out of his skin from the voice that sounded too close to his liking. He turned around to see a short woman with a blunt bob haircut. Her bandana was slipping off her forehead nearly covering her eyes, where she wore an annoyed expression on her face. Smellerbee.

“Where is she?” Zuko asked mirroring the other woman’s annoyance. He didn’t have time for small talk.

“You think I’m going to tell a total stranger the location of my coworker? You must be dumber than you look.” Smellerbee responded with a huff. Zuko narrowed his eyes at the small woman in front of him. If this was any other circumstance he would have been grateful that she was protecting Y/N, but at the moment Zuko only felt rage.

“I’m Y/N’s roommate and I need to talk to her. It’s important.” Smellerbee looked at Zuko like she’d rather be anywhere else than where she was, and it was really testing his patience.

“She left to go to the lake with Jet awhile ago. You follow that path behind the cabin and it’s a straight shot.”

“Thank you” Zuko brushed passed Smellerbee and ran towards the path, nearly knocking into his friends in the process. He could hear the shouts of his friends behind him, but Zuko didn’t pay any attention to them. It was like he had tunnel vision as he ran through the trees towards the lake. The wind whipped through his long dark hair, sweat forming at the tip of his brow. The trees blurred together as he raced down the path. If Zuko was paying better attention he might have noticed the rustle in the bushes to his right, but he wasn’t paying attention at all. So when he collided into the hard body in front of him, Zuko was knocked flat on his ass.

“Spirits watch where the hell you’re going!” Zuko could recognize that voice anywhere. That arrogant tone only belonged to one person, and it was the last person on Earth that he wanted to see.

“Jet” Zuko gritted out through his teeth.

“That’s my name don’t wear it out” He responded with a curt laugh. Jet stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants and extended a hand to the man on the forest floor. Zuko took it as Jet helped him to his feet. He might hate the guy, but he didn’t want to give Jet the satisfaction of knowing his mere presence bothered him to no end.

“Where’s Y/N?” Zuko asked, aggravation flooding his voice. Jet didn’t respond at first, and just stared at him. He eyed Zuko up and down, as if to size him up. Jet just laughed again, and Zuko was one step away from punching him in the nose.

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I don’t have time for your bullshit Jet, just tell me where she is” Zuko took a step forward, towering over Jet’s figure. He took great satisfaction in the gulp Jet took when he did. “Good” Zuko thought to himself, “I hope you’re nervous you fucking prick.”

“I’ll tell you where she is...” Jet paused, and Zuko’s patience meter dropped to a near zero. “Eventually...”

“You will tell me now. I’m not taking no for an answer” Zuko clenched his fists, ready to force his way past Jet if he was going to waste his time.

“Let’s have a chat first, man to man. It’s been long overdue...” Zuko was about to walk past him when Jet grabbed onto his wrist. “Besides... I have some information you’d want to know concerning Y/N”

Zuko could feel his heart sink at such a simple statement. Information. He knew that Jet couldn’t be trusted, but Zuko couldn’t resist his curiosity. He turned around to face the man he loathed, a smug look painted his face as he dropped Zuko’s arm.

“You have 2 minutes, don’t waste it” Zuko crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for the other man to speak. Jet tilted his head towards the fallen tree off the side of the path, beckoning Zuko to follow. The silence was thick as they both sat on the rotting tree, rays of remaining daylight peaking through the trees that surround them. It was eerie, how quiet it was. Just the whistling wind around them to break up the unforgiving silence.

“I know you hate me, but I just want you to listen for a bit. Then you can be on your merry way” he began, Zuko just stared waiting for him to continue. Jet took a deep breath, fiddling with the toothpick between his teeth. Gross.

“I just wanted to apologize to you, for what I did. It was fucked up and I’m sorry” That... was not what Zuko was expecting, his eyes widening in surprise. So this was what he wanted to discuss?

“I was.. an angry person back then. I felt like you’re family personally ruined mine. To be fair I was right, but it was just your dad. Not you. It wasn’t your fault that your dad and his company evicted my family. Hell he kicked out his own son, why would he care about kids from the projects?”

Zuko remembered the day Jet found out who his father was. Before then they were friends, two boys pissed at the world and the cards they were dealt in life. They use to sneak out at night, and roam the streets; stealing booze from liquor stores, smoking pot in parking lots, and just relishing in the feeling of being young and angry. Zuko felt that Jet was the first thing that was his and his alone. Jet chose to befriend him, not out of obligation because of his sister, at least that’s what he felt at the time. They shared secrets in the dark, with only the neon lights of the city keeping them company. Yes, Zuko never told him who is father was, but he did tell him a lot of the abuse he faced. How he was afraid to come home and face his father’s wrath. How he used to wish for anything to stop the pain. He cried in front of Jet that day, and Jet held him and told him he felt the same. That all changed when Jet found out about Ozai. He called Zuko to come out like normal, but instead of the promise of cheap thrills he lead him to an alleyway and beat the shit out of him. Zuko held his own, and eventually got the best of him, but the price of winning the fight was losing his best friend. He told himself he’d never forgive him for what he had done that night, and now the same boy, now a man, is next to him once again with the sun setting around them asking for forgiveness.

“Fuck man you were my best friend.. and I threw it all away for what? Something completely out of your control? Because of someone you hated as much as I did? Losing you is one of my biggest regrets.. close second is what I did to Katara and Y/N” Jet hung his head low, his shoulders tense as he hunched over. Zuko didn’t know what to say at that moment, stunned into silence. He understood what Jet was feeling, succumbing to anger is much easier than processing other emotions: sadness, guilt, pain. Over time the anger just becomes a part of you, and it lashes out. Jet didn’t have anyone to help him move on from that like Zuko did.. he was alone.

“I’m so fucking sorry Zuko. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.. like I don’t deserve Y/N’s.. but I want to try and be better. I know my apologies and promises in the past have been empty and hallow.. but I can’t keep doing that shit anymore it’s exhausting” Jet looked at Zuko then, his eyes shining from unshed tears. Jet was asking for forgiveness now, like Zuko had done many years ago.

“I forgive you. For what you did to me..” Jet visibly deflated, finally releasing the breath he had been holding in, his body sagged in relief.

“I don’t know if we could ever be as close as we were before... but if you’re willing to try I am. On a few conditions...”

“Name it”

“Stop acting like a total ass to Y/N. That shit needs to end” Zuko requested.

“Done”

“You also need to apologize to Katara, she’s one of my closest friends and I can’t be friends with you if you haven’t done that. She won’t forgive you as easily as I did, and she may never do and that’s her right. You still need to though, it’s what she deserves.” Jet visibly shivered, an angry Katara was a terrifying sight, but he nodded in agreement nonetheless.

“And finally you need to tell me where Y/N is” Jet laughed at this, but it wasn’t the smug laugh he used before. It was genuine this time.

“She’s sitting at the dock by the lake, at least that’s where she was when I left her.” He nodded and put a hand on Jet’s shoulder, the two men shared a moment of peace before Zuko went to stand up. Before he walked away Zuko turned to Jet and put out his hand, his way of extending an olive branch to the man he once called his best friend. Jet accepted it with a smile and they shook on it, what ‘it’ was neither of them knew.. but it was something. Change? Moving on? Something along those lines.

Zuko was the first to let go and turned to walk down the path, the sun light fading quickly. Before he got too far Zuko remembered he had one more thing to ask.

“Hey Jet!” Zuko shouted, Jet turned around surprised.

“What?” he shouted back.

“You’re not dating Y/N again are you?” Zuko questioned, he needed to know before he made a complete fool of himself in front of the woman he loved. Jet let out a full belly laugh, nearly folding himself in half. Zuko quirked an eyebrow, unsure of what was so funny.

“Is that why you hauled your ass out in the middle of nowhere? You thought I made a move on her? Nah I wanted to apologize like I did with you. As if she’d ever take my ass back.” Zuko sighed with relief, but before he turned around Jet spoke again.

“The only bones she wants to jump are yours!” Zuko felt the heat rise to his cheeks, a smile growing on his face. He only hoped Jet was right as he ran further down the path towards the lake.

As Zuko ran towards the lake the smile never left his face. He couldn’t ignore it anymore, Y/N definitely felt the same as he did. He could do this, he could finally tell her how he felt. With newly found confidence Zuko ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He could see the lake through the trees, he was close, so close to her. One more turn and he’d be there.

When he finally made it to the small beach surrounding the lake Zuko whipped his head around desperately trying to find the dock. It was getting dark, both the sun and moon shared the same sky when he saw it. Saw her.

Y/N was sitting at the edge of the dock, her feet dipped in the inky black water beneath her. The golden light of dusk shined on her hair as it swayed with the wind, her skin glowing as if she was made of stained glass. Zuko took a moment to admire her from afar as she sat blissfully unaware of his presence. He slowly walked towards her, gathering every ounce of courage he had.

“Y/N!” Zuko yelled out as he got closer to the dock. Y/N jumped, clearly surprised at his sudden outburst.

“Zuko? What are you doing here?” Y/N asked as she pulled her feet out of the water. She slowly stood up, trying not to put too much weight on her bad ankle.

As Zuko got closer he thought about what he was going to say to her. He thought about how she took his breath away when he first laid eyes on her, how her smile lit up her face. He thought about all the little things he loved about her, how her nose scrunched up when she laughed and when she was annoyed. How she liked to dance around the apartment in her pajamas when she was stressed out. How she put way too much much sugar in her tea, and how she cried when she watched videos of baby ducks. He loved how much his Uncle loved her, his friends, and even though she would never admit it, his sister as well. He loved how she was patient, not only with others but with herself as well. He loved that she knew how to bring the best out of him, and how she was the reason he reconnected with the gaang. In such a short amount of time she became one of the most important people in his life. He wanted to tell her all of this and more.. but instead he said:

“I brought you the bracelet I made you” Zuko reached into his pocket and fished out the friendship bracelet he made with Kiyi. It was a pathetic little thing really, the pattern was inconsistent and the knots at the end were way too big, but he made it for her because he loved her.

“You came all this way... to give me a bracelet?” Y/N asked, her head tilted to the side in confusion. Zuko wanted to smack himself, he barely even started and was already failing miserably.

“Um no that’s ugh, not the only reason” Y/N was looking at him waiting for him to continue. Zuko could feel himself drowning. “Why is this so hard? It’s simple. Three words. I. Love. You. Wait should I say I’m in love with you instead? Y/N says I love you to her friends all the time. What if she says I love you back but she means it in a friend way? I don’t mean it in a friend way. Shit I’ve been quiet too long. Say something you fucking idiot!!”

“Zuko are you alright? Are you coming down with something you’re really red” Y/N raised her hand to feel his forehead but Zuko caught it. She furrowed her brows together, her eyes piercing right through him as he stood their awkwardly holding her wrist. The sky was turning dark, the only source of light was the moon that rose above them. It was late and he was wasting precious time.

“Fuck it” Zuko said as he dropped her arm taking a step towards her, closing the insufferable distance between them.

“What are you talking abou-” Y/N was interrupted with the feeling of Zuko’s lips on hers. It was chaste, but not without feeling. Instantly Zuko melted into it, her lips were as soft as he imagined so many times before. The skin on her cheeks felt warm under his hands where he gently held them, but before Y/N could even register what was happening Zuko pulled himself away, gracefully resting his forehead on hers. Zuko opened his eyes to see Y/N’s eyes blown wide in surprise,

“I’m in love with you. Spirits, I’m so in love with you Y/N” Zuko wished he had a camera then, because the look on Y/N’s face he wished he couple capture forever. He tried to memorize the details of her face, the way her eyes sparkled in the star light, the little gasp she let out that he could taste on his tongue, but most of all he wishes he could capture the smile she gave him. It fit her so beautifully in a way that only she could. She let out a little laugh, the one that made her nose scrunch up in the way he adored.

“What took you so long?” Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed all over his face, every inch she could. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, his scar, his lips, his lips, his lips, over and over again until they were both gasping for air. Y/N’s heart was so full she felt as if it would burst at any moment.

“In case you couldn’t tell, I love you too Zuko” Y/N giggled in between kisses. Zuko wrapped her arms around her waist pulling her closer to him. Even then he felt it wasn’t close enough. Zuko slowly felt his way up her back, trailing his fingers up her spine, touching her in the way he always wanted to. One arm remained tightly wound across her waist, while the other caressed the base of her head. Y/N gently moaned at the feeling and Zuko swallowed it. He wanted to take everything she was willing to give, nothing more and nothing less. Zuko wondered if she could feel his heart pounding in his chest, as Y/N wondered the same.

They were in their own little world, completely oblivious to everything around them. Zuko and Y/N weren’t paying attention to the fact that they weren’t alone anymore. Neither of them heard the splash towards the other end of the dock, or cared to notice Sokka flailing in the water with Katara standing above him looking very pleased with herself.

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A/N: FIFTY CHAPTERS AND THEY FINALLY KISS!!!!! CAN I GET A HELL YEA!!!!! This series is my baby and I'm so beyond thrilled that we made it!! I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter 💕

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

Text

Dreams, Chapter 17

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 17

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2203

Summary: Milwaukee’s finest African dream root gets put to the test.

Warnings: FLUFF, swearing; it’s so nice to finally take angst out of these warnings

You’re walking up the stairs from the bar basement with a six pack in your hand—it’s a raspberry beer from a microbrewery you’ve only had once in Pennsylvania, years ago. There’s no way you’d be able to stock it in northern Wisconsin, and ironically that makes you realize you’re in a dream faster than hearing Sam and Dean talking at the bar top.

“Look who decided to show up!” Dean smiles, ready affection spreading over his face like warm butter. He’s sitting on a stool like a patron, a few fingers of scotch in a glass in front of him where Sam stands behind the bar. You can feel yourself beaming as you cross over to them, setting the cold six pack out between you. It feels natural to slip into the space under Sam’s arm like you do so often here serving customers together but you stop short of it, instead grabbing one of the bottles and pivoting so it looks like you were trying to grab the bottle opener out of his back pocket all along. He raises his elbow to give you better access, letting you slip it back into the denim without touching him.

When you look up, Dean still has those gooey caramel eyes trained on you. “You look good, kid. What’re you drinking?”

“What’re you drinking, that’s all you have to ask?” you giggle, hopping up to sit on the bar. “No ‘how are you both here, what’s going on?’ none of that?” For your part you’re practically exploding with gratitude that Sam’s long shot worked.

“We’ve been waiting on you for a minute, Jolly Green Giant over here gave me the scoop. So what’re you drinking?”

You hand the bottle you’ve opened to Sam and grab another. “It’s a raspberry lambic from Pennsylvania. From what I remember, it might’ve been my favorite beer ever.”

Dean raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “Well, come toast me with that Juicy Juice.” You and Sam both touch the lips of your bottles to his glass, and the smile on Sam’s face is as smooth and effortless as chiffon floating off a tropical cabana. “I got my brother, my girl, my car, and a few fingers of single-malt, this is perfect. To Sammy’s big ole brain and the beauty of dream root.” Something about that rings a bell in an even deeper part of your mind and you don’t take a sip right away until a vision of Dean flashes, holding two plastic trays piled high with burgers and fries. Dean winks as he finishes his glass. “Did you two get any better at pool since I’ve been gone?”

Playing pool with Sam and Dean in a bar—in your bar, with the dent in the paneling behind Dean where the table is a little too close to the wall—is as comfortable as if you’d never stopped, that there isn’t this giant hole not being acknowledged. Sam ribs Dean when he makes a shot his big brother missed and blocks fast when Dean tries to jab him in the ribs with a pool cue in retaliation, smiling through the horse play. You wipe a stealthy tear out of the corner of your eye and take another sip of lambic; you can’t think of anything more beautiful than watching the Winchesters goof off like this, are already starting to miss it as it happens in front of you, and then you feel stupid and wasteful for being so prematurely nostalgic that you can’t enjoy it. When you look back up having collected yourself, Sam floats a delicate hand to your back. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, just all kind of got to me for a second.”

His eyebrows twist in concern and he looks over to Dean, exchanging a look you can’t quite read and even that you’ve missed so much you have to hold your breath for a moment to keep it together. “Let’s, uh, let’s get out of here,” Sam suggests, laying his cue down on the felted table.

Dean nods almost imperceptibly before grinning wide. “Yeah, why don’t you knuckleheads show me the rest of this town?”

Sitting in the backseat of the Impala is just right for the mile or two it takes to get ‘downtown’—as far as those 7 businesses on a main street rural enough not to have curbs can be called a downtown—and when Dean opens the back door it’s with an outstretched hand for you to get out into the parking lot of the hardware store. “It’s not really going to be the same without all the people,” you offer, taking his callused fingers in yours and standing up.

“Babe, you have people in your dreams all the time.”

“Yeah, but not like real people, not like you or Sam.”

“You haven’t explained all this stuff to her yet?” Sam asks, incredulous over the top of the Impala as he walks around to you and Dean.

“We’ve been, uh, busy,” Dean says lasciviously, waggling his eyebrows and not reacting when you shove him in the chest.

“Dude, gross.” Sam’s little brother reflexes show themselves to be intact once again.

“That’s not what your girlfriend said last night.” It almost makes you panic with surprise, that blatant acknowledgement of the situation, but neither Dean nor Sam seem to pay it too much mind, already moving on to the next thought. You get the sense—as you always did—that they’re still able to communicate without speaking, but who knows? Their time together, Sam’s dreams, even the time that it took you to find them in this dream, is theirs. If they’re comfortable joking then maybe you should be also; you’re the one who gets to have your cake and eat it too. It conflicts with your current strategy of ignoring the deeper element to both your relationships, pretending like the present predicament is no different than before you started dating Dean, platonic and jocular all around. In any case you’ll be damned if you ruin the unbelievable joy of this moment by harping on awkwardness.

Sam rolls his eyes at Dean and turns to you. “It’s about how well you know people. Someone you know really well, your mind will be able to project what they would or wouldn’t do in a given situation or context. If you only know them sort of tangentially it’ll be harder for your mind to guess, so you might start to get like, repeat phrases or whatever. Think animatronics.” You probably look as confused as you feel and you can see the cogs of Sam’s mind turning rapidly to try to find another way to explain. “Okay, so take Diane, right? You know her enough that she might show up in a dream, but you probably don’t really know her motivations or mannerisms really well, personal history outside of those pictures of her grandkids she’s always showing? In a dream she’d probably only be there for a while, to get you from one thought to another, so if we go in right now and talk to her for hours and hours, she’ll probably start repeating stuff: sentences, facts, whatever.”

“Sounds a little Island of Misfit Toys to me,” you grimace, beginning to feel a little queasy.

“More like Westworld,” Sam suggests, opening the door. “This is, uh, the hardware store? Not really sure what you’re wanting to see, Dean.”

Dean is strolling down the center of the small shop, head ducking into each aisle like he’s looking for something specific but doesn’t know where it is. He picks up a package of Red Vines, opens it, and tears into one like a lion with a chunk of sinew before continuing his walk. There’s a degree of wonder in his eyes that you wouldn’t have expected; the hardware store is just like any other you’ve ever been in except smaller and with more of the bits and bobs that shops in little towns tend to have.

“Sweetie, would you like me to ring those up for you?” The voice comes from up ahead, behind the cash register where Diane has appeared. It sounds entirely kind and helpful but you know she’s gently chastising Dean for opening the package without paying. Sam can hear it too and smiles conspiratorially at you before walking to catch up with his brother, grabbing the candy out of his hands and tossing it on the counter to get out his wallet.

“I can get them.”

“Oh, Sam, I didn’t see you there! Look at you, Johnny on the spot. How’ve you been, honey?” She’s ostensibly ringing him up but her eyes are roaming all over Sam’s body hungrily, enough to make him blush.

“Uh, fine. Just hanging around, you know.”

Dean sidles up next to Sam and shoots out a hand to Diane. “I’m Dean, Sam’s brother.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Dean. Diane,” she answers, her handshake as warm and no-nonsense as she is, but she only takes her eyes off Sam for half a second to address him. It should be your first hint that something’s up when Dean seems smug at the almost-diss rather than annoyed. Sam finishes the transaction and presses the licorice flat into Dean’s chest as he turns back toward the two of you and the exit. You have to hustle a little to keep up with his long strides.

“Dude, come on, that’s hardly fair,” he says, low and trying for serious but there’s some playfulness in his tone.

“I just wanted to see what she was thinking,” he chuckles around a bite of licorice, following Sam down the road to one of the burger joints. “Lucky you.”

“Diane? Why do you care about the cashier at the hardware store?” you ask.

“Kid, I want to know everything about your lives. Hardware stores included.”

Sam rolls his eyes at his brother again and smiles, annoyed and maybe a touch shy. “You, uh, you don’t know Diane well enough to recreate her in your mind, but you know that she, uh, she knows me, right? So the way she acts toward me in your dream is the way you think people must act toward me in real life.”

You’re getting tired of feeling confused and out of the loop. Dean interjects, “If your projection of Gramma Goodwrench has the hots for Sammy, then you must think chicks are falling all over him.”

The heat rising in your cheeks makes you sheepish for a second before you realize the futility of it. Yet again, if Sam and Dean are willing to treat this like something to be joked about you can let them lead the way. “Whatever, you guys are a pain in my ass. Are we eating or what?”

You end up walking through town for a while, going into all the tiny nooks and crannies of the places you spend any amount of time in, decidedly trying to keep the boys from talking to anyone for too long. Dean takes it in like it’s fascinating, a 6 year old at Disney World for the first time, asking all kinds of questions and doing goofy things like trying out different stools, looking into every bathroom stall to really understand the full scope of it all. After a while he gets hungry but wants to go back to the cabin, so you grab groceries that would normally be impossible to find in the local grocery store—there’s a perk—and head home. Sam gives Dean directions to your house, which feels odd, like some kind of reverse deja vu.

You have an idea. Tapping Sam’s shoulder and leaning forward to put your head between the boys’, you think maybe it’s not something you want to do, that you don’t want to share Sam and Dean together again. But if Dean wants to see your life, they’re the closest relationships you have. “Do you, um, do you think I know the Kaisers well enough that you’re not going to be able to Vulcan mind control me or whatever?”

Sam looks over his shoulder back at you, curious and sweet as a gentle smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah, I bet you do. What’re you thinking?”

“Maybe we could go to theirs for dinner? If it’s a—”

He reads your mind. “They’ll have something, you’re right. Dean, what do you think?”

“Guess who’s coming to dinner! It’s just past you guys?”

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 18

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

finders keep hers, iii.

read parts one and two! the long awaited conclusion! i’m sorry it turned into a friggin’ novel. i hope it does the first two parts justice, though. these kids are... idiots. i love them and you (and also the best beta reader @hobi-gif��)! 💖

pairing. jjk x named f!reader. rating. explicit, ofc. tags. this is... really soft at certain parts. and then really raunchy at others. oops? but fr - mainly fluff with some smut at the end. you might need a filling. wc. 5.4k.

You’re buzzed into the building without a moment’s hesitation, the kind concierge with the gummy smile and greying temples beaming at you as you enter. “Nice to see you, Miss Lee.”

“You too, Mr. Choi.” A grin of your own is offered, gym bag hiked higher over your shoulder as you pause to chat. You’re in no rush. “Is he home?”

“I don’t believe so.” The sudden look of disapproval that colours the older gentleman’s features is almost comical, reminiscent of a disparaging parent. It’s the same expression you’re greeted with nearly every time you visit. “He left in a town car yesterday afternoon and I don’t think he’s been back since. That boy’s going to get himself in trouble one day.” As if Jungkook didn’t already - as if it didn’t follow him around, glued to the bottoms of his Italian leather shoes.

“Tell me about it.”

“You know…” There’s that twinkle in Mr. Choi’s eyes again - the one that tells you he’s about to repeat the same words he always does when he catches you alone. “A nice girl like you could get him to settle down.”

Your response is what it always is - a scoff and a laugh rolled into one. It careens off your tongue, ringing in the spacious lobby. “I don’t think anyone will ever get him to settle down.”

How true that is, you’re not sure. For your sake, you try not to think about it too much.

The old man is undeterred though, shrugging his narrow shoulders beneath the neat uniform he wears. It’s a little loose in the chest but immaculate otherwise, tie knotted in a classic Windsor and collar ironed perfectly. He levels you with that shrewd stare of his but says nothing further, simply engaging you in an unspoken staring contest.

Sometimes, you wonder how much he sees. How much he knows .

You break before he does, tearing your gaze away and blinking rapidly. He laughs, full bellied and deep from the chest. “Get on upstairs, Miss Lee.” You aren’t offended by the dismissal. “It’s always nice chatting with you.”

You remind yourself to bring him chocolates the next time you’re by. The ones with hazelnuts, because those are his favourite. A fact you only know because you’ve helped your best friend pick up a box for him every Christmas, writing the card and having him sign it right before it gets left behind the desk.

Actually, you helped Jungkook with a lot of things. Always had. It was simply the nature of your friendship - passed down by your parents and forged stronger by childhood playdates, your fair share of teenage squabbling, and college hangovers so bad they’d created an unbreakable bond.

Whenever he would need you, you’d be there - whether that meant picking him up at 4 AM from the airport because he wanted “some shitty fast food and to see you” or helping him pick gifts for Mother’s Day. There was no task too small, no moment too inconsequential.

Unconditional love, they called it.

It’s why you have no problem swanning into his apartment with the extra key you’ve had since he moved in, kicking off your trainers and tucking them neatly alongside the rows of black leather and expensive sneakers.

You do so much for him that you take where you can, indulging in all of the luxuries you’ve never been afforded. Unparalleled view, stupidly expensive toiletries, a damn jacuzzi tub .

You pull your sweater over your head - truthfully, one of Jungkook’s from college that you’d never felt inclined to give back - and toss it over the back of a barstool on your way into the guest suite. Your bag follows shortly after, deposited at the foot of the bed that exists as a rotating welcome mat to your and Jungkook’s circle of friends.

The rest of your clothes - sports bra, shorts, thong, socks - are stripped, folded, and tucked into the laundry bag you keep handy. You know you could leave them here and Jungkook’s housekeeper would take care of it, but you’ve never been too comfortable with that. Different upbringings.

The spray is like sweet relief the moment you step beneath the rainforest shower. It’s the perfect temperature and pressure, melting the sweat and tension from your bones.

But it isn't why you’re here, so you make quick work in the glass enclosure, scrubbing your body bare and lathering and conditioning your hair into a squeaky clean mess. Any other time, you’d just spend a good half hour standing beneath the head but you’re feeling particularly indulgent today.

Call it a spa day, courtesy of one Jeon Jungkook.

You don’t bother to dry off, water splashing across the floor as you step from the shower and sink into the spacious tub that overlooks the heart of Seoul. Diptyque bath oil encapsulates the room in a bubble of sweet almond, similarly branded candle burning on the ledge. The jets release a steady stream against your tired back and legs, massaging your limbs into jelly.

You can’t help the sigh of utter relaxation that rolls off your tongue, sinking into water in the same instance your shoulders do.

This is what dreams are made of. Anyone who says differently is an idiot and a liar.

“When are you going to tell her?”

You’re not expecting the voice and it breaks the silence like a thousand pound weight, shattering the calm and nearly startling you enough for you to knock your head on the edge of the tub.

There’s no reason for you to be surprised. Not really. This isn’t your home, after all. You aren’t entitled to any sort of privacy.

It doesn’t matter, though. The discomfort in your chest is unfolding regardless, lodging rocks in your throat.

Because it’s a female voice. Lilting, soft, draped in familiarity. Not someone brand new.

Your heart stutters at the realisation. The rush of blood against your eardrums is so loud you momentarily wonder whether they can hear it all the way in the living room. They must be able to - it’s practically deafening. You can’t even hear the rest of their conversation.

Their conversation .

Which seems to have ended, leaving only silence.

You suddenly remember your shoes, your sweater. Traces of you littered throughout the apartment that isn’t yours. God, you’re an idiot. He was going to kill you - or she was. You’re not sure which is worse.

You’re reaching for the fluffy white towel on the rack when you’re scared near half to death yet again. This time, by your best friend who cuts an imposing figure in the doorway, broad form resting casually against the frame. He looks surprisingly unbothered, curls pushed back from his forehead by a pair of sunglasses and arms folded over his chest.

“Jesus!” The shriek comes four octaves higher than it normally would, pitching into the open so loudly you wince. “You scared me!”

You can’t help the way you peek past his shoulder for a sign of the girl he’d brought home.

“Enjoying yourself?” There’s something amused dancing in the darks of his eyes, his mouth curving around the same emotion as he steps into the bathroom. You’d be bothered if he were anyone else, unnecessarily long legs carrying him to you in three strides.

“I didn’t know you were home.” You can’t quite meet his stare, still far too distracted by the mystery woman. Had he left her on the couch? Maybe his bedroom as he snuck you out? What excuse could he come up with?

“Didn’t know you were home either.”

He’s made himself comfortable right on the ledge of the tub, marked fingers dragging lazily through the still-scalding water. He doesn’t seem terribly in a rush. That puts you on edge.

Was he going to hide you in here?

“I wanted to relax after my run.” You don’t owe him an explanation - not really - but you offer it anyway. You figure you need to, when you might’ve ruined his Sunday morning romp session. You can’t bring yourself to address it, though. The words just won’t come, sitting on the tip of your tongue like thorns. It hurts to swallow.

Jungkook doesn’t further the conversation - a first for him. He’s normally a chatterbox.

The silence stretches on. Suffocating.

You force yourself to speak, staring down at your hands that are slowly pruning beneath the water. “Should I… go?” The way it comes is feeble, soft, uncertain. You hate it.

By the look of surprise on his face, he does, too. He cackles suddenly, like a goddamn witch. “Why?”

Heat floods across your cheeks. You wish you could blame it on the bath or the steam that still collects on the mirrors. It pulls high over your ears, colouring them tomato red and embarrassed. Surely, he knows why.

When he repeats himself, it’s harder, without any of the laughter from before.

Rather than answer, you wave a hand through the air, fingers wiggling. The universal sign for you know . It should be enough - you hope it’s enough. Your ego won’t let you verbalise it.

“Suddenly mute, baby?”

It isn’t quite mocking - teasing, maybe - but it stokes the fire that burns in the pit of your stomach and licks uncomfortably at the organ in your chest. You don’t even look at him as you nearly spit the words, petulant and far more bothered than you should be. “You’ve got a girl here.”

A laugh that isn’t quite a laugh comes, swathed in velvet and coloured blue. The effort you make to not shoot him a glare is herculean.

He’s still snickering when he speaks. “You mean my sister?”

“Your sister?” It’s more surprise at yourself that has you whipping to look at him, bewilderment tossing all other emotion out the window. Because his sister was practically your sister. How had you not recognised her voice? You feel silly all at once, the embarrassment from earlier fading into reticence.

“Yeah. I spent the night babysitting the twins.”

You sometimes forget how much Jungkook loves children - especially his sisters’. It’s hard to reconcile the family man he effortlessly transforms into when he spends most of his waking hours playing the perfect part of unaffected bachelor.

“How are they?” You ask because you care - you adore Minseo and Minhyuk - but also so you can move the conversation along. The last thing you want to do is dwell on your mistake.

“They’re good. Getting big.” He’s got that smile on his face - the one that’s softer than any other, with deep lines at the corners of his eyes. Reserved especially for the people he cares about most. Your favourite sight. “You can come with me next time. Minnie asked about you, anyway.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest.

Being liked by peers? Great. Being respected by your superiors? Rewarding. But being loved by children? It was in a league all its own - better than ice cream on a hot day.

“Sure.” You can’t keep the grin away.

That is, until he speaks again, circling the conversation back. “So, were you jealous?” His ability to piss you off is uncanny. It’s like it’s written into his genetic code, each molecule of his body tasked with ruining your day.

“No.” It’s meant to be a scoff. It’s not very believable.

“You sure, princess?” The fingers on your chin are wholly unnecessary - he’s got you caught in his stare, locked in place with nowhere to go.

“Yes, Bunny .” You know how much he hates the nickname, only tolerating it because it’s you. You can’t deny the pleasure that comes at the sight of his jaw tensing, muscle jumping in agitation. Just as he’s your weakness, you’re his, too. “Now let me finish—”

He cuts you off, sharp and unrelenting: “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get out of the tub or I’m pulling you out myself.” Risen to his full height, he’s an imposing figure. Even worse, there’s something you can’t read in his expression - something that has your nerves firing wildly. Your heart rattles around in your chest, uncertain.

He leaves you without another word.

You scramble out of the bath as quickly as your confused limbs allow you, knotting the towel beneath your arms. You’re not quite sure what to do next, caught between pulling your clean clothes out of your workout bag and demanding an answer from your sphinx of a best friend.

What the hell was his problem?

Your impatience wins out as you’re tugging a brush through your hair, fumbling uncharacteristically through knots until you’re too frustrated to continue. You’re ready to tear into him when you storm out of the guestroom; you’ve got a barrage of insults on your tongue, proverbial gun cocked and ready to unload.

They melt away when you spy him on the couch, neatly wrapped bouquet laid across the coffee table.

“Come here.” It’s not a request so much as a demand - commanding and soft all at once. A small part of you wants to fire off a rebuttal; that part dies when he repeats himself, louder this time.

The seat you take beside him is begrudging, a good foot of space held between your bodies. You fiddle with the hem of your towel, turning a loose thread over and over your index finger.

“What?” It’s snippy, discontent - kerosene on the fire that burns beneath Jungkook’s skin.

“Watch it,” he retorts, though there’s no acid to his words. Frankly, he sounds more frustrated than angry, more exasperated than pissed off.

That makes one of you.

Only he can bring out this side of you - brusque and biting. “ You watch it, Bunny.”

Fingers find the bridge of his nose, a gesture you don’t see very often. Guilt blooms behind your ribcage as he rubs at the tension between his eyes. For someone who has it all, he looks like he’s a moment away from losing it.

“You’re a brat, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one,” you retort, not unkindly.

“You’re making this really hard,” he snaps in the same instant he all but throws the overwhelming bunch of flowers at you.

You nearly drop them you’re so surprised.

“What are these for?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Did I stutter?”

If you weren’t so busy studying the arrangement of florals, you’d have some witty comeback. As it stands, you’re preoccupied by the pretty bunch of peonies and tulips. You wonder what he’s done wrong - why he’s found it necessary to soften the blow with your favourite flowers.

Your thoughts drift back to his sister’s words: when are you going to tell her?

All at once, you want nothing more than to leave. You don’t want whatever heartbreak is about to come. You’re not ready for it.

“Listen—”

He cuts you off, again. “I love you.”

You’re not sure how your face looks. You imagine you could look up flabbergasted in the dictionary and you’d find a photo of your expression right now. “What?”

Jungkook won’t quite look at you, intently focused on an indiscernible point against the far wall. When he speaks the words again, they’re full of uncertainty - but not in the way you expect. The confession is as believable as any you’ve ever heard - he really does sound like he loves you - but somehow, it’s draped in dread and held aloft by hummingbird wings. “I love you.”

He’s nervous, you realise in amazement.

“Come again?”

He meets your stare then, brow knitting with unease. He doesn’t say it again, though.

“Are you messing around with me?” You don’t mean it how it comes - a little accusatory.

“I’m not an asshole.” Except both of you know he certainly can be. You don’t call him on it, though, opting instead to peer curiously at him, hands fisted around the bouquet in your lap. “I talked to my sister. She…” He shrugs once, an almost helpless roll of his shoulders. “She told me I was an idiot.”

You’re not surprised by that. Lina had always been the one to give it to him straight.

“She said I would lose you if I didn’t get my shit together.” There’s a bit of childish petulance that works its way into each syllable - he hates being told what to do. “Said I needed to tell you or I’d regret it. Which is stupid, because we’ve been best friends forever and she’s younger than me so what does she know—” He must realise he’s rambling, something he never does. “But—”

“But?” Quiet, hopeful, coaxing.

There’s a warmth in your chest - illuminating and golden and so bright it hurts to think about. It grows with each moment that passes, spurred on by the look in his eyes and how they find yours.

Hesitation pulls the silence a beat too long. The light wanes. You wonder if the moment has passed.

And then he continues, a little more earnestly. “Was she right? Am I going to lose you?”

You’re not entirely sure what he’s asking. You don’t think he even knows what he’s asking. You try to answer anyway, as honest as you can without pinning your heart directly on your sleeve. “You’ll never lose me.”

“You know what I mean.”

Did you? “You’ll never lose me.” You’re the one repeating yourself this time, just that bit harder.

“Then say it.” Again, not a request. A prayer, perhaps. Ardent and needy - a world away from the Jeon Jungkook you know.

You don’t hesitate. “I love you.”

He doesn’t either - upon you so quickly you don’t have time to blink or think.

How he kisses you now feels different. More . It’s like being consumed entirely - changed from the inside out in ways you never thought possible. Where he touches, sparks fly, filling you like stars in the night sky. Lava rolls over every inch, dragging heat and want and need from the soles of your feet to the tip of your nose. You’re gasping rather than breathing, clawing against the front of his shirt and twining your fingers into the strands that curl over his nape.

“You never told me you could kiss like that.” It’s lacking coherence, made by a partial inhale and wild, wondrous eyes.

His response is a laugh and another kiss, forceful and adoring and utterly devastating. “Shut up,” he mouths against your lips, tongue licking over your teeth and gums like he’s trying to memorise every inch of you. Hands follow in the same amorous motions, tugging and pulling and aching for you closer; the tips of his fingers sear white hot heat over your hips, the small of your waist, the delicate bones of your ribcage.

“I’m serious...” You really are - far more than you should be. You’d been missing out on this ? It’s incomprehensible.

The sound he makes is more of a growl, playful and resounding in the cavern of his chest. It rattles your own, sending your heart on a downward spiral into the pit of your stomach. His nose traces the column of your throat, soft lips guiding him further until he’s mouthing hotly over the bare skin of your shoulder. Tongue teases, delves ever so gently into the dip of your collarbone, and swipes back up, laving over the maroon that peeks around the edge of his teeth. You can’t help but keen, holding him so closely you wonder if you’re suffocating him.

“So am I.” Each syllable is punctuated by another nip, another nibble. It seems like his goal is to bloom roses across your skin - a wreath to welcome him home, made by his own touch.

You don’t mind.

“Say it again,” he demands, hopeful and unashamed from his place against your neck.

The admission comes easily, as if it’s always lived on the tip of your tongue. “I love you.”

“Again.” You’re not ready for the way he stares at you - like he’s never done before. Like he’s seeing you for the first time and he’s awestruck. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” Hands find the familiar contours of his face, thumbs brushing over the hollows of his eyes, over the beauty mark that sits front and centre beneath his lip. Each graze follows a repetition of the confession, as if you might burn the three simple words beneath his skin - write it into his DNA like he’s written into yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Bunny .”

He holds you close - so tightly it feels almost as if he’ll crush you - and captures your mouth again. It’s more gentle but just as lovesick. A thousand unspoken words spill from his tongue to yours, swallowed whole with greed you don’t bother to hide.

“I need you.” It’s whiny, framed by a pout that could end wars and paired with doe eyes so wide and innocent you almost want to roll your own.

“You have me.”

“Do I?” There’s a very deliberate roll of his hips, denim of his jeans rough against the exposed softness of your inner thighs, hands manoeuvring over the partially covered swell of your hips. The press of his fingers is purposeful, digging tension into every inch. As if he might transfer some of the unadulterated need that thrums through his veins, turning his heart to jelly and brain to mush.

“Since when do you ask?” You have a point.

“You’re right,” his grin is almost lazy, drawing over his mouth in a measured crawl. “Good girls just do what they’re told, right?” His grips tightens almost imperceptibly, holding you to him almost effortlessly. You’ve been in this position a hundred times before but it’s never been this easy - like breathing.

The gasp you offer is all mock affront, hand laid palm-down across your chest. You don’t miss the way his gaze follows it before ticking lower, unabashed in its admiration. “Are you saying I’m not?”

“Don’t know, baby.” The war on your neck has resumed, teeth traded seamlessly for the softer promise of his tongue, the dry brush of his lips. It’s almost sinful, garnering sighs of affection and need from somewhere low in your throat. “Want to be a good girl for me?”

You’re not quite used to this version of him - playful and needy and not nearly as demanding as usual. A part of you wants to draw out the side of him you know is there, hidden just beneath the surface; the other wants to bask in this, all feather soft and cotton candy sweet.

“Always,” you return, with a coquettish smile and fluttering lashes.

“Always,” he murmurs, tasting it for the first time. He sounds almost giddy when he repeats it once, then twice, then a third time for good measure. You think it’ll come again, laughter rolling off your tongue as you stare into the eyes of the boy you love. Instead, he speaks in a voice full of gravel and grit, all traces of your sunshine boy suddenly swallowed whole by the darks of his pupils. “Fuck - I can’t wait to have you.”

“Then what’re you waiting for?” You don’t need to push him. You like to do it anyway. It feels right .

“You’re the worst.” What Jungkook means is you’re the best and I love you and I’m going to fuck you six ways into next week . What he means is this is the scariest thing he’s ever done but it’s all right because he has you. What he means is thank you - and how he shows it is through worship.

On the way to the bedroom, he crowds every inch of you, holding you so closely you wonder if he’s trying to carve himself into your bones. He’s firm and unrelenting, balancing you against his chest as he smothers every available inch of your shoulders in sweet, sloppy kisses. He revels in the way you cling to him like you’ve never needed anything else.

In his bed, he lays you out and strips you bare. He offers devotion with every pass of his fingers, every trail of his tongue. He wants you so badly it’s hard to focus on giving you everything you deserve, but he tries anyway. He sucks love into your neck and over your breasts, pinching your nipples between his fingers until you’re panting and he’s aching for the same treatment.

On his knees, he prays at the altar of your body, taking his time to map the constellations on your skin, the memories written into each scar and dot. His tongue follows the raised flesh that sits across your hip - an unfortunate mishap from a schoolyard dare. You whine and he nearly cries, soothing over the sensitive spot with hands and lips and tenderness. He lays kisses on each freckle, each irregular mark. From your navel to your knee and everywhere in between, he caresses and comforts, turning those blemishes into stars.

He also teases - subtly, quietly, with wandering hands and focused breaths. You don’t realise it until it��s too late, your insides molten, your pulse a thunderclap in your ears.

“Jungkook.” It sounds more like begging than anything. Exactly what he wants.

“What’s up, princess?” Spoken so casually, as if he isn’t between your legs, long fingers tracing through the slick that coats your thighs. He gazes up from behind too long strands, all wide-eyed and terribly sweet - until he pops a digit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks around the taste of you. “Something wrong?”

“Stop teasing.” You hear yourself whine but it doesn’t quite sound like you, higher pitched and needier than you’ve ever been.

“I thought you were going to be good for me,” he returns with a tut and a push of that same finger deep into your cunt. He flexes it experimentally, beaming up at you when you clench around the intrusion that’s too much and not even close to being enough all at once. “You’re so wet, baby. I just slide right in.”

As if to drive his point home, he drives another finger in, scissoring them languidly to stretch you open. It’s such a pretty sight, messy and inviting. He can’t resist a taste, dragging the flat of his tongue over and around the fingers that continue to fuck into you at a faster pace.

“ Jungkook! ” You’re shrieking, bucking against the onslaught of sensations. A shapely arm immediately cages you against the bed, palm splayed across your hips.

“Stay still.” It’s a growl, teeth bared against the sensitive pearl between your legs. Words are punctuated with the softest pressure - a silent threat that goes no further. You wonder what he’ll do if he has to repeat himself. “Good girls listen, remember?”

You’re fumbling across his shoulders, nails digging crescents everywhere you can reach. You need him so badly it hurts . “Please.”

“Please what?” That patented, stupid smirk cradles his mouth, tongue peeking out as he stares at you expectantly. “If you’re going to be so demanding, at least use your words.” He watches the way your eyes roll back into your head when he slots another finger in with the others and curls them against that particular spot that has you seeing stars. The bastard has the audacity to coo at you. “What’s wrong, baby? Can’t speak?”

You’re near wailing, gasping and whining around words that sound like his name. Angry red lines sprout across his shoulders, his arms - demands carved into flesh.

He makes a sound, wistful and resigned. You think - try to think, beyond the pleasure that’s building steadily in the pit of your stomach - that he’s finally going to give you what you need. You’re almost crying for it, moisture crowding your lashes and threatening to spill over.

Then he withdraws, all at once.

You could scream. In fact, you do, red in the face and chest heaving. “I hate you!”

“No.” He’s upon you in an instant, insistent and terribly smug. There’s a playground in his smile, childish laughter spilling into the spaces between you. “You actually love me.” He noses at your neck, the heat of his palm searing against your side as he sighs almost dreamily. “Say it again.”

You answer him with something more than love - frustration and annoyance and so much devotion you can’t keep it out no matter how hard you try. “No.”

It’s a challenge more than anything. He knows it; you know it.

He accepts it readily, just as you expect him to.

“Say it.” Enamel presses steady, heavy, into the sensitive spot right beneath your ear. He mouths over the skin that blows out red and inviting beneath his ministrations, the firm press of his fingers gripping you without hesitation. You can feel the entire weight of him against you, length nestled comfortably against your core. He repeats himself as he rocks against you, dragging the swollen, leaking head of his cock through your folds with an agonising slowness that has you clenching around nothing. “Come on, baby.”

You’re keening, adjusting your hips and grinding against him. You still won’t say it, hoping to find a rhythm in the quiet that’s punctuated by your laboured breaths and his occasional laughter.

“Just say it and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you everything. Promise, sweetheart.”

Framed against the late morning sun, hair spilling across his forehead in curls of india ink, he’s so handsome your heart leaps into your throat. “I love you.” It’s a wet confession, carried by a wave of emotion you don’t expect.

“I love you,” he echoes, sinking into you so gradually you feel like you’re caught in slow motion, all of your focus balanced on the tip of a needle.

It’s never been like this before. Each inch is a delicious stretch, filling you and claiming you. The drag is incredible, your walls fluttering around the intrusion and aching for more. You bite back a sob, digging into the wide expanse of his back with your nails as your mouth seeks purchase anywhere it can - over his jaw, up his neck, across his shoulders. He soothes you as he presses deeper, reassurances whispered against your temple.

“I’ve got you, baby. Let me make you feel good.” When he bottoms out, you demand more - somehow, somehow - locking your ankles against the small of his waist. He doesn’t miss the way you clench, so tight around him it almost hurts , when he says those three words once again. “I love you.”

His lips find yours and he brushes them over and over - a salve for the burn he ignites beneath your skin. It doesn’t matter that he’s both the calm and the chaos. Jungkook’s always been everything to you.

The rhythm he sets is unhurried and perfect. Each snap of his hips has his cock dragging against your walls, filling and stretching you so well; everywhere his skin brushes yours, you’re alive. There are a million nerve endings going haywire beneath your skin, flashing bright as holiday lights.

That’s what it’s like - Christmas morning . Picture perfect and filled with wonder.

He’s completely smitten when he draws back just enough to see the entirety of you - your fucked-out expression, the rose-wreath he’s wrought around your neck, the sweat that beads between your tits and tempts him to duck his head. “I love you.” It’s almost hypnotising - watching you take him, pussy dripping and needy around his cock.

“I love you,” you parrot back - or try to. It’s not very coherent, driven to a point of nonsense when his hips begin to stutter and he makes up for the loss of rhythm by slipping his fingers over your clit in circle eights.

You’re at your breaking point. He knows - can read you like the back of his hand - and holds you there, back bowing to kiss you breathless, pressure unrelenting against the bundle of nerves.

“That’s it, princess. Right there.”

The coil snaps at the third pass and there are hot tears streaming down your cheeks, his name spilling off your tongue in tandem with the erratic thudding of your heart. White spots your vision, entire body electrified as you crash headlong into an abyss of bliss. You hear him join you with a hoarse whine, a mix of your cum slipping out of you as he rides out his own high with shallow thrusts, mouth open and panting against your shoulder.

The comedown is hazy, dusted in exhaustion and a thin sheen of sweat. When he slips from you, he doesn’t go far, tugging you comfortably against his side like you’re not both a little gross. It’s not the first time you’ve fucked but it feels different.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you, Bunny.”

You realise - it feels exactly like that. Making love.

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iworshipkeanureeves · 4 years

Text

A Private Show

John Wick x f!character

Summary: It’s John’s birthday and his wife has a surprise for him.

Words: 2350

Warnings: pole dancing/stripping, smut (bodily fluids, oral)

Exhausted after another grueling, yet successful job, John was getting ready to head back home tonight. Exiting his bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips, he felt at peace, leaving his job behind for a while. He was finally getting some personal time.

John was so lost in his thoughts about returning home that he barely noticed a purple envelope lying on the floor; someone must have slipped it under his door while he had the shower on.

Suspicious and holding a gun in his hand, John slowly opened the door, taking a look around the corridor, hoping to see the person who was behind that; however, no one was there anymore. Curious to know what was inside, he had no choice but to open the envelope.

Given the usual, John wasn’t expecting anything good in there. Best case scenario, he thought there could be directions for a new job, meaning he would have to stay here for the weekend. And worst case… he didn’t want to think about that yet.

Holding the envelope in his calloused hands, John carefully opened the letter. He was pleasantly surprised to find a short note written in an immaculate cursive.

From the first glance it looked printed, but no, it was handwritten; the letters so perfectly smooth and so familiar that John was sure about the person responsible for these lines. It was her, it must have been her.

Just as he was to put the letter down and go search for a nice three piece suit, John heard his telephone ringing. He hesitated for a second, thinking he should better concentrate on following the address, but eventually he decided to pick it up, just in case.

“The car is waiting for you, Mister Wick.” It was Charon calling from reception, his tone suggesting that John should not reject the night that was awaiting him.

“Thank you.” His answer was concise, masking the excitement, and, after putting the phone down, John rushed to get dressed.

---

Stepping out of the car, John learned that the address belonged to a strip club. He was not exactly sure what to think of it, but he couldn’t really complain if that was her organizing it. Was there a surprise party awaiting him inside? Had she hired someone to dance for him? John had so many thoughts, but he was rushing indoors to see for himself what the letter was about.

Inside the club he was met by the dim lighting, only neon purple showing the way. John couldn’t see any people hanging around, leading him to believe that there was something really special planned for tonight.

He was burning with anticipation, walking towards the main lounge with shiny poles enlightened on the center stage. Deeper into the club, John noticed that there was a bottle of dark whiskey, his favorite, supposedly waiting for him; he got himself comfortable on a velvet sofa waiting for the show to begin.

As John was putting the bottle down after pouring himself a drink, he heard I Put a Spell on You by Nina Simone starting to play. The lights suddenly shifted, concentrating on a single pole, the one that was closest to him.

Then finally, John saw her. His wife. Slowly walking out of the shadows, wearing just a set of black see-through bralette paired with a diamond lace G-string.

The sight made John forget about the glass he had just poured for himself, forcing him to lean closer to the stage. He even held his breath for a moment or two, admiring his woman sensually stepping on a podium; her scarlet lips forming a sultry smile accompanied by a sinful gleam in her eyes.

Keeping the eye-contact she leaned her back against the metal bar, sliding down in a lengthy, sensual motion, keeping her angles together, but spreading her knees further apart. She kept her one arm up, clenching the pole above her head, while another teasingly stroked her inner thigh, concentrating John’s attention towards her center, driving him crazy with what was only a prelude for the show he was about to receive.

There was already a lump forming in John’s throat and he could hardly swallow marveled by the sight of his wife gracefully standing back up, swaying her hips together with the beat.

She walked around the pole, showcasing her behind, her perfectly round cheeks framed by the shiny jewels forming a string. John’s brain was short circuiting, the heat overpowering his core, as she was arching her back, rolling her body against the shiny metal bar.

Hooking one leg around it, she effortlessly mounted herself up the pole with grace. She was spinning, her free leg flowing in the air. Unbelievably, his wife kept upping her game, flipping over to face the floor, splitting her legs like it came natural to her.

She had the perfect flow, seamless fluidity in her motion. John could only wonder when or where she had learned.

Finally gathering the strength back to his hands, John took a sip of his drink, minding her surprising flexibility, the way she could spread her legs like it was simple for her. He felt his pants tightening thinking about all the things he could do bending her in various shapes, the way his hips could thrust deep into her, keeping her legs far apart giving the maximum access.

It was like she was reading John’s thoughts, sliding downwards with her body upside down, inverting the last second before reaching the ground. She landed into a perfect split, her bottoms subtly bouncing from hitting the floor.

John was admiring her glowing skin, the way she was showcasing her legs, sensually standing up with the help of the pole. He was eager to just go there and rip that meager outfit away from her.

Luckily that wasn’t necessary as John saw his wife stepping down from the podium and nearing his sofa, making his excitement shoot high. She kept teasing him, approaching John slowly with an erotic swing; her hands went to her back, unclasping the bralette and leaving her topless, giving another delicious treat for John’s eyes.

“A lap dance for my birthday boy,” she breathed in vulgar tone, hovering over his legs and making him press to the backrest with a single firm push. John inhaled, feeling her heat beginning to grind against his expanding crotch; her hands went under the lapels of his suit, nails digging into his tough chest.

“Can I touch?” John asked, taking a final sip and setting an empty glass on the table; he needed to free his hands, in case her answer was yes.

“Anything, darling.” The salacious words rolled over her tongue, and she delved into John’s lips, feeling his palms cupping, and then kneading her ass cheeks. The second she pulled away from the kiss, John’s mouth caught her nipple, sucking passionately and sending shivers all the way to her limbs.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled John even closer, making his face drown in the fullness of her breasts. She knew her pussy was already dripping, ruining his pants, but his bulge felt too good against her folds to worry about that.

She removed his jacket tossing it to the ground, and while her swift fingers moved to deal with his buckle, John was unbuttoning his vest at the same time. She kissed him once more, before kneeling down between his legs and sliding down his unzipped pants; just enough to get a hold on his stiff member, warm and meaty, looking colossal in her tiny palm.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll come before you even take it in your mouth.” John stated in a deep, carnal tone; his hands shaking form the need to pull her head closer and wrap her lips around his twitching cock.

“Patience,” she smirked, making a single, painfully slow lick from base to tip, her tongue gathering drops of precum emerging from his flushed summit. She stayed there for a while, her lips sucking only the tip, tasting salty liquor with her unhurried tongue.

Her eyes were fiery, assuring John that he was in for a long night. It was his birthday and she wanted for him to fully relax, forget everything about the world that was outside the club. At least for once in a really long time.

Gazing into John’s eyes she started gradually increasing the amplitude, taking more of him with each bob. She was getting really messy, saliva dripping at the corners of her lips, the music getting overpowered by the dirty sounds.

“Fuckk-“ John choked out, feeling her lips gliding his length, her palm stroking what was too much for her mouth. He couldn’t resist but to clench her hair in his hand, directing her movements; her pace and depth. Some of the jabs were almost too much, but John knew her the best, he wouldn’t have done so if she hadn’t been able to take that. His wife loved a little struggle, John was sure of that.

Each time her lips were reaching closer to the dark hair nesting his length, John felt himself nearing his edge; but he wasn’t going to come yet. John was pretty good at controlling himself, even when his wife was skillfully working between his legs. Having a fistful of her hair, John halted her movements, carefully helping her up.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, sinking into his lap once again.

“Not at all.” He joined her lips for a quick, yet filthy kiss. “It’s just that I can smell your pussy all soaked, desperate to be filled.” John pulled her petty panties to the side, running two of his fingers between her folds. “Look at that, I wasn’t wrong.” Pushing his digits in, John cherished the sight of his wife slightly gasping, as he was stretching her walls before invading them with his hefty cock.

“Please, John.” She begged in a needy voice, her pussy throbbing with anticipation, waiting for his member to finally enter her.

“Patience,” John smirked, “You said it yourself.” He kept pumping her, his lips gently brushing against her neck, his free hand hugging her waist. She tried sinking lower to meet his fingers, but still, that wasn’t enough; not even close.

Knowing how to beat John at this game, she gave her palm a generous lick, then wrapped her finger’s around his stiff cock, stroking it gently, slightly clenching each time her hand was gliding up.

After a couple of mutual pumps, she felt John’s fingers abandoning her pussy and she watched him sucking his digits clean, then sticking them between her lips, rubbing into her tongue. “You’re a fucking dessert, love.” John hissed delving into wife’s mouth, alcohol mixed with her arousal being shared between them.

Caught up in the kiss, she felt his member slowly plowing her slit. John paused at her stretched entrance taking a good look into her desire-filled eyes, before gradually invading her heat.

She smiled at him sinking to the very base, staying there for a brief moment to adjust to his girth. “All good?” John whispered, wrapping his arms around his wife and running his fingers along her spine.

She nodded and hummed, leaning closer for a kiss. Just as their tongues collided, she started rocking her hips, the friction feeling so pleasurable, that it was impossible to stay still.

John admired her breasts bouncing in accordance with their pace, her nipples hard, perfectly beautiful; just like everything on his precious girl. She was the best birthday present John could ever receive.

He didn’t even have to thrust; it was all her, sitting in his lap, riding him to heaven. She felt amazing, her tight walls milking his cock like they were a perfect fit for each other.

“Faster.” John commanded slapping one of her ass cheeks, making her gasp and encouraging some more profound moves. They were both breathy, their lips joining and separating every few seconds, moans and groans thickening the air between them.

John could barely say another word, feeling her pussy soundly sheathing his ready-to-burst cock; her warm wetness splashing on his crotch with every move, his pubes getting soaked in her sweet juice. They were both almost there, their muscles tense, the build-up soon to be unleashed.

Seeing his wife getting close, John dragged his palm over her hip, his thumb finding her needy clit, pressing not so gently to it.

“Oh fuck, baby I-“ She whimpered, feeling her mind getting clouded form the sensation of his tip hitting her in the perfect spot, and his thumb rubbing determined circles on her painfully swollen bud.

“Come on, love.” John began rocking his hips, intensifying their collisions to the point where it was impossible for either one of them to hold on. “Cum for me,” he grunted, feeling his whole body seized by the commencing orgasm, just in time for when his wife’s toes curled, and they both trembled in each other’s arms.

Their whole bodies were burning, John’s cock twitching with every spurt, his hot seed generously coating her throbbing walls. “I love you,” John growled, burying his face in the crook of her neck. It was the peak of his high; John’s hands were pressing at his wife’s back, pushing her close to his chest.

“I love you too,” she breathed out into his ear, shaking surrounded by his embrace. After tangling her fingers inside John’s hair, she gently pulled his head backwards and sank into his lips. A slight movement of her core made John’s member to fall out of her aching hole, and she felt his slickness dripping down her thigh.

“Let’s go clean you up,” John lifted his beloved wife, bringing her legs to wrap around his waist, his dress shirt already soaking up most of the mess.

“Fine, but then I’ll show you what else I’ve got,” she beamed. “The club is ours for the whole night.”

Tag-list: @keandrews @rdjloverxxx @greenmanalishi @lilywoood (message me to be added or removed)

Masterlist

#John Wick #John Wick fanfiction #John Wick smut #John Wick x reader #John Wick x f!character #John Wick oneshot #John Wick imagine #John Wick fic #John Wick x OFC #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves smut #smut

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simpingovernonexistentmen · 4 years

Text

Family Meeting Pt 1

Plot: Katsuki feels it’s time to meet families. Little does he know his omega isn’t so keen on the idea.

Genre: A/B/O, Omegaverse, Fluff, BNHA, Alpha Bakugo, Fem Omega Reader

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and, you were happily surrounded by your Alpha's scent. Sitting on the couch with Katsuki watching a documentary on almight's pasts battles. You've been dating Katsuki for half a year now. Finding yourself falling for him more and, more everyday. Everything was perfect. You snuggled closer to him, laying your head against his chest letting out a sigh of contentment. Katsuki chest rumbled in response to his omega's happiness, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you as close to him as possible, leaving a small gentle kiss on the top of your head. Yes everything was perfect.

"I think it's time we've met parents." He said breaking the silence.

You felt yourself freeze. Yes everything was perfect until right at this moment. Can we rewind back to 10 seconds ago and, just live in that time space for all eternity that would be great. You tilted your head up to gaze at his ruby eyes.

"Parents?" You squeaked out.

He frowned at your timid reply. Was it even a question? You've both have been with each other long enough to be considered serious. His mother had been nagging at him to bring you over to introduce you as his new partner to the family. He felt he had given it enough time to do this so, why did his omega seem so reluctant.

"What's wrong?" He asked giving you a long stare. You felt as if he was trying to piece a puzzle together with your soul.

"You don't think it's too soon?" You smiled up nervously, you already knew your scent starting to change into a slight bitter scent and, there was nothing you could do to stop it.

His stare hardened looking at you suspiciously. "No I don't, i think we've been together long enough to meet each other's families."

You sighed placing you face into the crook of his neck, refusing to stare at his soul searching eyes any longer. "Can we delay meeting my family for a bit?" You stated with a small voice. You felt him stiffen from under you.

"Y/N does your family not know about us?"

Fuck the one question you wanted to avoid entirely. The air around you started to contort into bitter burnt smell, nothing like his comforting firewood scent. This isn't how you wanted this conversation to play out. You didn't have a bad relationship with your family, no that was far from truth in fact it was the opposite. They loved you too much. Over protective was an understatement, every time you got into a relationship your family would find some way to drive them off. The same response would be given every time if they were really meant for you this wouldn't drive them away. No shame at all! You family consisted of two brothers and, of course both of your parents. Your mother is an omega like you while, all the males in your family were alphas.

Usually omegas were categorized in two slots a nuisance or, a blessing. The way society's view things is ridiculous but, that didn't mean you were ungrateful for your fortunate circumstance. You loved you family and they loved you but, being an omega, an only girl and, the youngest of every one did not help at all!!!

"Are you ashamed of me omega?" The anger in your alpha's tone brought you out of your thoughts. You quickly straddled his hips grabbing his face in your hands.

"Never" You stated with finality. Your eyes soften while, staring at his ruby eyes. You let out a comforting scent cooing at your alpha. "I would never be ashamed of you, it's just my family is a little much." You sighed looking down at him, "I just don’t want them to ruin what we have."

His chest rumbled at your answer, he leaned against you rubbing his face against your sweat gland. Katsuki wrapped his arms around your waist locking you in place. You began to run your fingers through his surprisingly soft hair, he hummed in response. He placed soft butterfly kisses against your neck.

"There is nothing they can do to ruin anything, our relationship isn’t so fragile to be easily broken"

Your heart swelled with joy at his words. You purred happily pulling back to kiss his lips. You smiled brightly at him. "Ok let's meet the family then."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few days have past and, you were FREAKING OUT! That same day you called your family with your alpha present letting them know about your relationship with katsuki. You of course played it safe, calling your mother over everyone else. You did not need a interrogation over a phone call with your alpha beside you. Your mother being an omega herself understood your point of view. That didn't mean she agreed with your method. After arguing for a bit with some pleading she conceded deciding it was best to let them know the day before your alpha and, you arrived. Rather than to blindside them completely.

Now here you were sitting in the passenger side of Katsuki's car in a light baby blue dress that fell just above your knees with some pale blue ankle strap heels to match. You always dressed up when you were nervous, it was a habit. This was your battle armor, your hero suit, you have self confidence sure but, it helped boost it just a little with dressing up. Your hair was perfect, your outfit matched, you had just the right amount of jewelry on, and a light amount of make up. You always tried to make it as natural as possible. The drive was a long one, which didn’t help the bad thought of everything exploding in your face go away.

Seeing you in distress was placing katsuki in a protective mood. He reached over interlacing your fingers with his, squeezing slightly to reassure you he was not going anywhere. He let out a comforting scent to calm his anxious omega. He gave a small smile when, he noticed your shoulders loosen up with your fingers relaxing in his hand. You gave a small squeeze back smiling up at him.

That's right everything will be fine. Everything will go smoothly. The second the thought passed your mind Katsuki hit the brakes making you lurch forward causing the seat belt to dig into your chest. You let out a distressed chirp at the sudden stop. When you finally opened your eyes, you came face to face with a very pissed off looking alpha, which so happened to be your brother. He stood a couple of feet away from the front of the vehicle staring angrily at Katsuki. For the love of-!!? Do you have a special hate for my positive thoughts that you have to shit all over it or, do you think its funny universe. You cursed to yourself in your mind.

Katsuki growled removing his hand from yours, unbuckling his seat belt. No no no no no! You haven't even gotten out of the car or, even made it to the house yet! Why?! Dear god why, is your brother starting a fight already! Before you got the chance to do anything Katsuki was already out of the car.

"Oi! What's your problem you fucking idiot!" Katsuki yelled out at your brother. You flinched...ahh goodbye romance. Marriage? Kids? Love life? What's that?

"You’re my fucking problem! You think you can just show up here with my little sister and, not get your teeth knocked in?!" Your brother yelled back. He then moved his heated glare towards you. You could see the hurt and, betrayal in his eyes. You already knew what the reason was, it was the simple fact that you didn't tell him.

You already knew he wasn't mad at Katsuki, he was just poor soul that took the blunt of his anger. He was upset with you. You’ve always been close with your brother. B/N was the middle child of your family, you were as thick as thieves, you always told him everything even about who you were dating but, this time you didn't. The overwhelming fear of your family not accepting Katsuki stopped you from telling him. Yes, B/N would jump on the band wagon of terrorizing your partners but, you always told him first before anyone.

"You must have some big balls to say that shit to me" Kasuki smiled but, you already knew what that smile was and, there was nothing pleasant about it.

You quickly unbuckled yourself getting out of the car "Wait! Wait! Wait! B/N please listen" You went to your brother's side pumping out your scent to calm your brother's inner alpha. You grabbed ahold of his arm pressing it against your chest. You suppressed the small chirp that wanted to come out due to the pain but, pushed through it. You didn't realize how hard the seat belt pulled against your chest until now.

"Oi Y/N, what's wrong?" Katsuki was instantly by your side checking on you. Meanwhile your brother was uncharacteristically quiet, now also glancing you over. You looked up at your alpha giving him a smile. You knew better than you lie to him.

"The seat belt hit a little too hard against my chest. I think i'm just a bit sore"

"I'm sorry" You heard your brother give a small apology with a sadden tone.

"We'll just call it even" You smiled.

"I don't" Katsuki glared down at your brother. "I don't care if you are her brother. That shit you pulled isn't ok. Grit your teeth" He growled out, the bitter burnt scent filled the air. He was pissed.

Katsuki grabbed your shoulder tugging you lightly to pull you away from your brother. Before you could even say word of protest out; Katsuki pulled his arm back, swinging his fist forward connecting to your brother’s cheek. Your brother was immediately knocked on his ass, his body meeting the asphalt. You gasped running over to your brother.

“Oh my gosh! B/N are you ok?!” You got onto your knees checking over him. Your brother let out a small groan, rubbing his cheek.

You turned glaring at your alpha, “Katsuki! What the hell!? I said, it was fine. It not like i was majorly hurt!”

Katsuki frowned crossing his arms, you knew he wasn’t budging from this. “It’s not alright and, he knows it.” He growled out. Katsuki’s ruby eyes never left your brother’s view.”I don’t give a fuck how angry you are at someone, it is never ok to hurt someone you love.”

“No one could have guessed this would happen!” You argued

Your alpha then moved his beautiful ruby eyes at you, “He forced us to stop the car causing you to get hurt. He needs to own up to the consequences of his actions weather it was intentional or not.Your safety is never up for debate.” He stated firmly with no room for further discussion.

“Y/N it’s fine. He is right.” Your brother stood up, bringing you up with him. “Which is why i didn’t move when, i saw what he was going to do.”

Your alpha grunted a acknowledgment at your brother. Katsuki went over to you bringing your body to his chest.

“Are you in pain?” He whispered in your ear while, rubbing your back gently. You felt your body relax into him with just his scent filling your senses.

You sighed in his touch, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Nothing a ice pack can’t fix” God, you loved your alpha.

You heard your brother clear his throat. You looked over at your brother refusing to relinquish your comfortable spot.

“Let’s get home so we can both get a ice pack. Your boyfriend packs a punch.” He whined. The anger he once held was gone and, was now replaced with a look of peace or, relief...maybe both.

You pulled back slightly to look up at your alpha. “Do you still want to meet the rest of my family?”

Your alpha smirked at you, “I don’t back down on something, I've started.” Of course he wouldn’t. Katsuki pulled away from you to start heading back to the car. Until you brother called out to you both.

“Hey isn’t that Ground Zero’s Insignia on the hood of your car?” You looked over to see your alpha’s hero symbol on hood of his car.

You smiled brightly at your brother “Yup, Katsuki is our all star pro hero. Which as you can see, he is none other than Ground Zero himself.” You turned away from your brother getting into the car.

“..holy hell...wait till everyone finds out about this” Your brother stated with a shocked expression.

I feel like it was a bit rushed. OH WELL! Part 2 of Family Meeting will come out soon. Of course it will be about Reader meeting the Bakugo Family. I hope you enjoyed this! Like Share Comment :D

#katsuki bakugo x reader #alpha bakugou katsuki #omega reader #bnha omegaverse #bnha a/b/o #bnha au #bakugou katsuki #fluff #romance #couples #bnha x reader #soft katsuki #soft bakugou

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 3 years

Text

Romanced Companions react to Sole Shusing Them With A Kiss.

(Enemies or argument.)

Cait:

Listen, she loved it when you surprised her with kisses- but why now? The two of you were just finished with a shoot out- did her blowing a raider’s head off really arouse you that much? Must have, seeing as you suddenly toppled her over and made her duck behind the old rickety bar of the hotel lobby- making sure your lips stayed right on her own.

That’s when she caught onto the cause of your sudden lust.

Footsteps, quite a few of them at that. Footsteps slowly moving further away from the two of you.

Fuck.

Curie:

She just knew that this “Museum of Witchcraft” thing was a terrible idea. She knew it from the second she saw the mangled remains of some unfortunate soul outside and she especially knew it whenever you lead her up the stairs.

What really got her was the pure dread in her stomach when she laid eyes on the slumbering beast held within, a soft gasp erupting from her- only to be stopped by you pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, quick to begin backing away to safety.

Had it not been for the inherent danger in front of you, she might’ve just been excited and pleased with the contact.

Oh well, she’ll get you back for it later when death wasn’t almost a guarantee.

Danse:

It was far and few between that he would argue with you, but with how stubborn both he and yourself were- it was only a matter of time until you butted heads on something. He still didn’t like it but that surely didn’t stop him from adamantly bickering back- at least until you let out a frustrated growl, your eyes a pool of fiery fury as you grasped the back of his head- fingers tugging pulling his short hair and forcing him down from his larger stature and into a rough kiss.

At first he was surprised, amber eyes wide and a startled moan spilling from his lips. That quickly dissipated into his eyes fluttering closed, the anger he felt transforming into butterflies in his stomach.

Even as you tried to pull away, his head would follow your’s in attempt to savor the kiss.

What were you arguing about again?

Deacon:

Deacon knew that his humor could at the very worst- be ill timed and annoying, but that was the beauty of it..right? Well, sure. Especially whenever he brought to the breaking point of your nerves- seeing your eye visibly twitch before you whipped around to face him , practically seething when you roughly pressed a kiss to his annoying lips. If only you could’ve seen behind his sunglasses, his eyes having almost doubled in size in response.

Needless to say, he never had someone shut him up like that.

Gage:

Though it didn’t happen often, sometimes Gage just couldn’t help himself but get mouthy with you. Nothing terrible mean, just the occasional complaint. However he never got far- just like now..

As soon as he rolled his eye at you, you forcefully pulled him to you by his ass- keeping him firmly in place so you could press your lips against his, biting down onto the plump flesh right when he attempted to kiss back.

“Dotcha dare forget who I am, understand?” “Fuck..yes, boss.”

Hancock:

Look here, he didn’t think it was a good idea- but seeing how eagerly you threw yourself at him, he couldn’t help but eagerly kiss back. Even reaching down to cup his hands around the curve of your backside and pull you deeper into the pleasant surprise of your kiss. He even though that he may get a little more out of this affection, maybe even get to try outdoor sex in the alleyway- until you pulled away with wide eyes.

Before he could ask what was wrong, he heard your giggle quietly- pointing over towards the sewage drain that had a pair of menacing horns slowly descending down.

Oh shit.

Macready:

For having such good vision and talent, Mac was terrible at sensing danger- but not nearly as bad as he was at keeping his damn mouth shut.

Gasping, you quickly pulled Mac back around the corner of the old brick building- praying to a higher being that it would provide enough cover- before caving him in with your hands and kissing him, using your own body weight to keep him perfectly still.

Whenever you finally deemed it safe, you withdrew and he gazed upon you with a lovestruck expression- a pretty blush dusting his face.

“Youre going to end up killing me one day..”

And yes...he was still somehow completely unaware of the lack of mongrels prowling the street over.

Maxson:

I think we all know that Arthur is proud, stubborn, and very much so opinionated. Put all that together and you have a recipe for a person willing to relentlessly argue, even with the person he loved the most.

Luckily, you would not stand for it. All acknowledgment of his superior rank and reputation flying out the window as you grabbed him by his coat lapels, shaking your head one last finale time before crushing your lips against his to make him shut up.

His head felt like it was spinning, the obvious need to push you away being thrown from his kind in favor of relishing the sudden contact. No matter what he wanted to do, you had succeeded- having rendered him speechless even after you broke away.

Nick Valentine:

He thought that surely you had lost your mind. The place was crawling with all kinds of unsavory characters and yet you for some reason thought that now was a good time for smooching? I mean, he wouldn’t dare ever push you away but this was a seriously bad lapse in judgement.

At least that is what he though up until he saw the feral ghouls off to the far corner of the subway car stumble into another section.

If he could soil his pants, that would’ve been the time.

Old Longfellow:

No, Absolutely not. Do it, even for good reasons and he’ll bend you over his knee and swat your ass like the little brat you were being.

Piper:

Piper was nothing if not passionate. That much was certain.

Due to her nature and her sometimes extreme opinions, arguments were unfortunately inevitable. Especially if you were sympathetic towards the institue.

Sometimes they just got so bad, both of yelling at each other without saying much of anything at all. That’s when actions would become the only reasonable solution, and you were not one to delay. Pushing forward, you’d grab her by her shoulders- pulling her to you without second thought and silencing the both of you in a rough, toothy kiss.

She’d of course not take too kindly to being interrupted, but because it was you...next thing she knew, she was wrapping her legs around your waist and moaning into your mouth.

Preston:

Goddamn Mirelurks. Ever the scourge of the castle, hardly ever worth wasting the ammunition though.

Rolling your eyes, you noticed the movement behind your lover’s back. However the panic set in whenever he opened his mouth to speak.

Unable to formulate any other idea, you promptly grabbed him by his upper arm, pushed him against the stony wall of your fortress before kissing him.

Boy was he shocked when he figured out what gotten into you.

Sturges:

Sturges was usually a very easy going man, so when the two of you “argued” it wasn’t like how most couples did. For instance, like now..it was nothing serious, more or less him griping at you for eating the last of his reserved snack cakes out of the cabinet.

Honestly, you knew you were wrong for it- but that surely didn’t stop the pleased smile on your face as you sauntered up to him, your hips bouncing side to side until you were close enough to wrap your arms around his neck and stop him from pestering you any more by shushing him with a kiss.

“There, is that sweet enough for you?” “Uh, I..I think so. *chuckle*.”

X6-88:

Honestly he was more surprised with the occasion more than your abrupt actions.

Everything had been going so smoothly, the two of you walking the streets of Boston ruins with an unnatural calmness. At least that is until he went to open his mouth and speak, to which you quickly raised to the tips of your toes and stopped his words before they could even form with a searing kiss.

His gloved fingers would instinctively press into your arms, unknowing wether he should push you away or if he should pull you closer. Regardless of what he wanted, he didn’t have time to decide because all too soon- you had pulled away.

It was later on that he figured out that there was a whole ass supermutant group walking the alleyway over.

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airi-p4 · 3 years

Text

Miraculous escape - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

I wasn’t planning to post this yet, but it’s Lukadrien June and today prompt is ‘escape’ and, even if it’s only Lukadrien friendship (bc it’s Lukanette & Adrigami endgame), it fit so well that I couldn’t stop myself from posting this. Chapter 1 and the final chapter have been finished for months, but I don’t know when I’m going to continue with the rest...

This fic is based / inspired by Marilyn Monroe’s ‘Some like it hot’ film.

Thank you @alittleshycat for the header and wanted posters pic! ( I hope you’re doing well... I miss you... 🥺💙 )

Thank you @brickercupmasterx3 for proofreading! 💙

Summary:

Luka helps Adrien escape from his prison-like house and his strict father but Gabriel Agreste is not planning to let them go away easily. They become fugitives and ask Juleka for help, who offers them a very unconventional escape plan: joining a girl band/orchestra to flee the country.

Easier said than done, especially when they find something unexpected in that band: the two most beautiful women they've ever seen.

Warning: includes art

AO3

_________________________

Chapter 1: Fugitives

"My father is going to kill me."

"Your father is going to kill us."

One carrying a guitar on his back, and the other a piano keyboard case on his hand, two musicians were being chased by multiple cars around Paris. Turning corners, going up and downstairs, hiding behind trash containers and cars, the chase seemed far from an end anytime soon. Panting for air, the pair continued running after they turned the corner, just in time not to be seen- a close call. The loud sirens never seemed to stop, coming from all directions.

"I can't believe I finally escaped from home!", the young blond man exclaimed excitedly. "Thanks, Luka. I wouldn't have made it without your help. You're a real friend."

"Don't mention it, Adrien. That's what friends are for, right?", the blue haired man laughed and patted his back. "It would have been perfect if we hadn't broken half of your father's statue collection while escaping your bodyguards, though. Now he's gonna kill us for sure. We can't let them catch us!"

"We need to run away from Paris. And fast! My father is the devil itself! You don't want to know..."

"I don't!"

Jumping down a wall, and turning another corner, the two friends hid in the back of a funeral car and waited until the police sirens got further away. They had been scolded for being disrespectful with the dead, but it was worth it: they were safe- at least for now.

"We need to leave the city and find a place to stay. Knowing your father, he must have all stations, roads and airports under his control." Luka said, stopping Adrien from crossing the street to firstly check their surroundings.

"How are we going to do it? Our car became 'inoperative' during the chase and our friends and family must be monitored!"

Adrien's panic made Luka grab his shoulders to reassure him of their plans.

"No, look. They know you, but they don't know much about me. Not many people know I have a sister who lives here, in Paris."

"You do?"

"Yes. We need to make it to her apartment and then we’ll figure out how to proceed. Are you ready to run again?"

"More than ready. I'm excited!" Adrien grinned back at Luka, feeling an adrenaline rush.

"Let's go!"

__________________

When Juleka opened the door of her apartment, she wasn't expecting to meet her dumbass older brother and Adrien Agreste, the young man who had been on the news non-stop for the last two hours. She raised one eyebrow and Luka knew she was looking for a reason not to shut the door on their faces.

"Juleka! We need your help! We have to get out of the city. Could you lend us your car?"

"What the heck is wrong with you!? It's been two years and that's all you have to say? What kind of trouble are you involved in now? This flower boy has been in the news for hours! They are even offering a reward for whoever finds him! And one for you! A dead or alive one in your case! They're saying you kidnapped him! So you better have a good explanation or I'm kicking you out."

"I do, I do! Listen: remember dad? I know you were little, but do you remember what being trapped is? That's this man's, Adrien's, everyday life for you. I couldn't bear to see my friend like that anymore so I offered to help him escape" Juleka's eyebrow sank deeper towards her nose, meaning Luka knew that wasn't good news. "I had to help him get his freedom! Can you believe he has never had a burger? Or been to a drive through? He can't even drive a car! He literally crashed my car at a streetlight after mistaking the gas and brake pedals! Have some compassion and help us escape Paris. Please?" he finished, pleadingly.

Juleka's eyes moved to analyze Adrien before answering: blond rich guy, well dressed and innocent looking. The way he was trying to figure out her front door and how his green eyes curiously examined his surroundings made him look like a playful cat, and Juleka had no doubt that he was as dumb, or probably dumber, than her older brother. Which meant Jukeka wanted them out, but also that she couldn't refuse to help- otherwise they would surely not make it out alive.

"Fine. What do you need?" She resigned.

"A car or anything that takes us away from Paris! No, better! Out of the country!"

Adrien was still examining Juleka's old and untidy room when she noticed his eyes paused on a paper on the table. She knew that paper: a girl band/orchestra called "Miraculous" was looking to recruit experienced musicians to perform around Italy for three weeks. Suddenly, she knew what to do.

"Join that girl band, the one in the pamphlet", Juleka suggested, pointing at said paper.

"What? A girl band? We're men, Jules! We can't join a girl band!"

"Luka is right!" Adrien quickly agreed.

"No, it can be done. I'm good with makeup and I'm tall enough for my clothes to fit Adrien. We can use some of Mom's clothes for you. ‘Old style’. Oh, and I have some wigs too.” Juleka continued. "Can this blondie play any instrument?"

"Well, yes. He's a pianist," Luka answered.

"Perfect! I'll find a way for you to cover for the pianist and the guitarist of the band: Chloe and Lila. Nobody likes them anyway, and the band members probably don't even remember their faces well, since they joined recently. Nobody will miss them. And it's perfect that you're blond, just like Chloe. I have the perfect wig for you"

Juleka disappeared for a few minutes and came back with a pair of scissors, two wigs and a box of makeup- oh, and wax. The two male friends could feel cold sweat down their backs.

"Wow, you have such a pretty face!" Juleka exclaimed, taking a closer look at Adrien's facial features. "I'll cut your bangs a bit so they don't show under your wig. Luka: do yourself a favor and go shave meanwhile."

"Are you serious about this, Jules?" Luka asked, moving towards the bathroom sink.

"Of course I am", she glared confidently at him. "Do you want to flee the country or not? I'm getting you out, but you need to trust me."

"Is this really necessary…?" Adrien asked in a trembling voice, seeing how Juleka's scissors were close to his eyes as she was cutting his long bangs.

"It definitely is! The band orchestra is leaving midday tomorrow and we have a lot to do!" Juleka ordered. "I can't wait to wax those hairy legs of yours" she murmured. Adrien could only gasp in fear.

When Juleka finished, she was proud of her results. The disguises were perfect: a long blond wig on Adrien, tied as a long braid, his big green eyes standing out with the mascara on his lashes, and he had pink colored cheeks and cherry lips. His face and hair were perfectly complemented by a white dress to his knees and a short jacket over his shoulders, covering his strong forearms. He also used some pads to simulate not very large breasts. The final touch was a pair of elegant high-heels with diamond looking glass studs on them. He looked beautiful, prettier than many women. So pretty the Couffaine siblings blushed a little at the sight.

As for Luka… well, he was tall, big and manly, and with sharp features: definitely not easy to pass him as a woman. But Juleka was almost a professional and she did an incredible job. He had his hair cut short so his blue hair didn't show under the long dark haired wig - good for covering his wide muscular back. He was advised to wear a hat and sunglasses most of the time, but he was also wearing lots of makeup. Using a full palette of skin tones, Juleka managed to hide his strong jawline and make his cheekbones, chin and nose look smaller and rounder. He wore black eyeshadow and mascara, brownish red lipstick and natural blush. He looked like an unfeminine lady but that could pass as genetics, right? People would maybe look away, but they would understand. As for his clothes: he wore a long wide purple dress tied with a belt and some brown pirate-like high boots (the only ones that would fit him because they belonged to himself). The bottom half of his outfit was complemented by a grey knit poncho. His fake breasts were bigger than Adrien's and he wore a wine red scarf to cover his neck- especially his pronounced adam's apple. He looked… pretty good, considering the base product. And that alone was an amazing accomplishment.

"You're perfect. Ready to go. I've packed a pair of party dresses too. You'll need them for your performances" Juleka said, admiring her amazing work. "Oh, and just so you know. I'm also part of the band, so I'm coming too."

Later that night, just before sunrise, Juleka sneaked to Chloe and Lila's apartment to steal their accreditations and sent them fake cards about the train being delayed so they wouldn't appear at the last moment and ruin everything. Juleka smirked victoriously for having at last taken her revenge on the two women she hated the most.

___________________________________________

After nervously passing the first frontier of the train station- the ticket man, Luka and Adrien, who were disguised as women, moved towards the platform, happy for not having been recognized after the first control. Adrien had trouble walking in heels, so Luka lent him his arm to help him keep his balance.

"Remember: your name is Chloe now, and my name is Lila", Luka reminded his friend as they walked towards the train platform.

"I don't like those names", Adrien complained.

"I don't like them either, but it’s better that we don't stand out". Luka sighed.

Grabbing their baggage and instruments, the two men approached the train car written on the ticket. They were stopped before they could get on the train- just next to one of their 'wanted' posters. The two men didn't notice it, but Juleka did and rushed them to get on the train fast.

"Hey, who are you?" Asked a middle aged woman, the one in charge of the band, they assumed. "I've never seen you before. Are you new?"

"I- I'm Adri- My name is Noirette”, Adrien said, receiving equally surprised and annoyed glares from both Luka and Juleka. Before Luka could speak, Adrien continued. “And she's Lucia. We're the new pianist and guitarist of the band".

‘What. the. heck?’ Luka couldn’t believe his friend as he stared at him in annoyance and shock. His high pitched voice acting was hurting Luka's ears too. 'We're dead', he thought.

The middle aged woman showed orchestra at Adrien’s words: she clearly didn’t like last minute changes. Scanning them under her glasses, she questioned them again. "What happened to Miss Chloe Bourgeois and Miss Lila Rossi?"

While the two men were taking too much to come up with an excuse, Juleka, who was sick of their bad acting, stepped into the conversation.

"The talent agency sent them somewhere else. These two are here to fill in for them."

Still unconvinced, she raised her glasses. "Hmmm... you know them, Juleka?"

"They come from the same talent agency as me", Luka’s sister confidently said.

"Hmmm... that should be enough then..." It seemed like she was convinced at last and the two men could finally breathe. “I'm the band's director. You can call me Madam Mendeleiev. And that man over there is Mister Damocles, the manager. You can introduce yourselves later. Go to your seats now.” Before they could take a first step, the middle aged woman stopped them again and called for someone. "Yves! Come here and carry these ladies’ instruments to the train! Be useful for once!"

Luka and Adrien exchanged looks when a young blond man approached them quickly. "Yes, Madam!" He shouted, approaching the disguised men to get their instruments. He stopped in front of them, intensely staring at Luka’s pupils before trying to complete his job.

"Oh. Hello, there. XY at your service! Can I help you, beautiful? Fancy a drink sometime?" He raised his eyebrows twice, shamelessly flirting.

Luka's face went white in disgust. Juleka's chuckle and Adrien's big eyes made him snap out of it.

"Oh, Just carry this, thank you!" Luka answered, annoyed, as he shoved his and Adrien’s instruments and suitcases into XY’s arms, making the blond man lose balance from the pile of weight on his arms. “And take good care of them because they’re… fragile”

"A- As you wish, beauti- Ah!…" He stumbled, losing his balance and almost falling down. “But later that drink-”

"Yves!! Stop the crap and do your job!" Mendeleiev scolded him.

"Yes, Madam!" He straightened his back. "See you around", he winked at Luka before leaving, having trouble walking properly. The guitarist could feel shivers all over his body, while Juleka snorted, having real trouble trying to hold her laugh in.

"C'mon, hurry up!" Juleka pressured them, adding in a whisper "you better not expose yourselves before leaving."

"Thank you for saving us, Juleka." Luka whispered to her ear while getting on the train.

"You better stop acting stupid if you don't want to get caught!" Her response showed her annoyance and the men gulped in response.

The seats were arranged in pairs, so the two fugitives could sit together and relax a bit. They were also grateful for the lack of contact needed with the rest of the band.

The ‘Miraculous band’ was a dancing orchestra. Similar to a big band, but with vocals, a spectacular stage and completely fine for all ages to enjoy. In this case, its main particularity was how it was formed only by women. The band formation included: a rhythmic section (electric bass, electric guitar, drums and electronic piano), a wind section (saxophones, trumpets and trombones) and two singers. Many of the members were usually multi-disciplined in those bands, which meant they could play more than one instrument, just like Luka with the Lyre. Some of the side instruments were the violin, the flute, the maracas or the tambourine. Another particularity of these kinds of bands was the big range of styles in their repertoire: from rock and popular national or international hits to swings, waltz, salsa- anything that could be danced to.

If it weren't for the all girls' rule, Adrien and Luka wouldn't have minded joining them for real. But they had something more important to think about now- running for their lives.

"Is everyone here?", Mendeleiev asked, standing at the train car passage.

"Marinette and Kagami are not here yet, Madam" A dark skinned, red haired lady pointed out.

"Those two again… if they weren't so talented and popular I would have fired them already!"

"There they come!' A small blond short-haired lady screamed, startling Juleka in the process. "Sorry! I didn't want to startle you. My name is Rose" she introduced herself.

"Juleka…" and that's all she could say as she lost herself in that petit woman's eyes.

"What do you play?", the little woman innocently asked. "I play the trombone!"

"The electric bass…" she answered, hiding her blush. ‘Cute, sweet and with lungs of steel?’ Juleka gulped. ‘I’m screwed’.

"Finally!" Madam Mendeleiev said, as the ladies arrived, panting from their run there. "You're late! Go to your seats quickly!"

The two ladies who got in the train, bowed their heads in apology for their tardiness, as they walked to the empty seats of the back of the car. And when their faces looked up for a moment, it was the exact moment Adrien and Luka reached heaven. Their eyes couldn't stop staring at the most beautiful ladies they had ever seen, following them with their eyes and faces as they passed just beside them, moving to sit a few rows to the back. They couldn't take their eyes off them until Juleka called for their attention, warning for their discretion. But it was too late: the boys had lovestruck grins on their faces that didn't plan to go away anytime soon.

The two ladies had black hair and asian features. The short haired one was taller, had brown eyes and wore a beautiful white blazer with a red skirt. She looked elegant and confident, while the other woman looked cute, clumsy and innocent, and was shorter. She had blue eyes and dressed in a pink coat. Her hair was long and tied in two curly twin-tails. Their beauty stood out even more when they were together.

When the train started moving, Madam Mendeleiev gave the girl band some instructions- something Luka and Adrien would ask Juleka what it was about later. Later, Rose suggested an introduction game for the new members after the explanation had ended. The ladies excitedly agreed.

"I start!" said the same blond girl. "My name is Rose Lavillant and I play the trombone! I studied at a conservatoire in Paris for 3 years before joining this band recently. I like pink and unicorns and my favorite food is strawberry shortcake. Nice to meet you!"

After a round of applause, Rose signaled Juleka to continue, and she passively proceeded. "I'm Juleka. Bassist. Nice to meet you"

Next to continue was the red-haired woman from earlier, Alya, flautist and trumpeter; the drummer, Mylene; another trumpeter, Alix; and one of the saxophonists, Sabrina. It was Adrien's turn next.

"Hello!" He started, with his high-pitched voice. "My name is Ad-" he paused for a second at Juleka's deathly glare, gulping once before continuing. "My name is Noirette. I play the piano! I'm from Paris Classical School and I'm very pleased to meet you all!" He squealed, moving his arms along.

Adrien's excitement for freedom and new experiences was contagious to the rest of the ladies who energetically (almost hysterically) responded "Nice to meet you too, Noirette!".

It was Luka's turn next. He gulped, nervous, and with his fake high pitched voice and under Juleka's death stare, he started.

"Hi... My name is Lu- Lucia". 'I'm killing Adrien for giving me that name' he thought. "I play the guitar. Nice to meet you"

With their introductions over, Juleka finally relaxed. The rest of the ladies' introductions followed but, to be honest, neither Luka nor Adrien were listening: they were just patiently waiting to know more about the ladies that captivated their hearts. Their turn finally arrived, and the short haired one started:

"Hello. My name is Kagami. I sing and play the violin. I've been in the band for a few weeks. My favorite color is red and my favorite food is katsudon. Nice to meet you" a silence followed Kagami's introduction, so she called for her partner's attention with her elbow. "Marinette, your turn!"

"Oh-! Sorry… I was distracted… He-ello… My name is Ma- Ma- Marinette! I'm a singer but I can also play side instruments like the tambourine, the maracas or the castanets. I've been in this band for a few weeks and I studied in Paris Music School. My favorite color is pink and my favorite food is macarons. It's nice to meet you-", she ended with a nervous high-pitched voice.

Luka and Adrien exchanged excited lovestruck grins: the ladies' names and voices were just as beautiful as their faces. They were going to enjoy their outing with the band better than they could have expected.

______________________________

When the car got loud from the ladies chit-chat, Luka and Adrien found their moment of peace to share their thoughts.

“Luka, did you see that?” Adrien started, signaling at the end of the car, towards the singers of the band.

“Yes…I saw.” Luka answered, with a lovestruck grin on his face.

“That beautiful face…”, Adrien continued.

“Sweet voice…”, Luka added.

“Asian features…”, their mumbles continued.

“Dazzling eyes…”

“Dark shiny silky hair…”

The two men reacted at their exchanged words and looked at each other, surprised and nervous. Adrien gulped, worried.

“Wait- who are you talking about?”

“Who are YOU talking about?” Luka threw his question back at him, slightly aggressively.

“That girl, Kagami, of course!” Adrien exclaimed as if it was the most obvious response.

“Oh, that's good. I was talking about Marinette.” Luka sighed and showed him a relieved smile.

“Oh...” Adrien blinked, sighing and smiling in relief too. “I'm glad we weren't talking about the same girl. I wouldn't have liked to steal a girl from you.”

“What makes you think I wouldn't win her over you?”, Luka confidently grinned.

“Oh- anyway- It's better this way.”

The two men laughed together, trying not to be too loud for their manly voices to destroy their cover-ups.

“Will you help me with Kagami?” Adrien asked his friend.

“Only if you help me with Marinette.” said Luka, offering him a handshake he excitedly returned.

“Count on it, my friend!”

#my fic #fic: miraculous escape #lukanette fic #adrigami fic #my art #airipyon #airip4 #lukadrien friendship #endgame lukanette #sorry for the ugly art #It's OLD and I cringe #but you get the overall idea I guess?#silly comedy #This idea was from last year OMG #Idk when I'm going to continue it but I hope I will...#I'm super slow to finish my WIPs...

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gasolineghuleh · 3 years

Text

ODC Chapter 1

I never put chapter one separately on Tumblr, oops.

Below the cut is the first chapter of my currently on going long fic, featuring my OC. The entirety is available on ao3.

The wind whipped and whirled through my hair, billowing my skirts around my feet as I clung desperately to my umbrella, hoping against hope that the rain lashing down around me hadn’t soiled the books under my arm. I clutched my small bundle tighter and leaned into the wind, struggling up the sleet slicked hill under my feet. The cobblestones were soaked, and traction is hard to come by, especially on these older roads. One of the street lamps softly illuminating the road blinked twice before extinguishing, plunging me into a darkness that’s only permeated by the occasional flashes of lightning and the moon, shrouded in clouds.

A soft whimper left me as I attempted to tuck my hair back behind my ear, the wind having torn it loose of my already loose ponytail. I’ve seen it storm before, but never this badly… and never with this oppressive feeling behind it. Certainly, my small convent had weathered its fair amount of storms, and I didn’t feel any worry for the stone walls. The air felt thick and heavy, as though I was breathing through a soaked rag. It was suffocating and almost panic inducing. I stopped for a moment, looking down the street from whence I came. A small tickle in the back of my mind told me that something was off. Something was wrong.

The bookstore I had just left had turned its sign off, leaving that area of the street in darkness save for one single light, an uncomfortable shade of scarlet just outside of a café. I’ve never eaten there personally, but I’ve certainly heard the rumours of… unusual clientele. Images of hooded and masked figures flashed through my mind and I cringed into myself, clutching my books tighter. Almost on instinct my gaze turned to the cliff that loomed above the town as a flash of lightning illuminated the outline of a large ruined castle, stark against the blackened and angry sky. With a yelp, I scurried down the alleyway nearest to me in an attempt to dodge the worst of the rain. I may be straying from the Church of Our Lady, but I believed in consequences at heart.

Spotting an awning in the alleyway, I took a moment to duck underneath it to take a respite from the rain. I was finally able to relax somewhat now that the rain was no longer pelting me, and I took some deep breaths, leaning against the brick wall that I had found myself beside. With a furtive glance to the side, I took the time to unwrap my newly gotten books from their linen wrappings and smiled to myself when I noticed that they’ve managed to remain dry. The smell of the leather greeted me warmly as I ran my fingers over it, feeling the bumps and ridges on the cover. Whorls of shadow coursed their way up the front of the book before dipping around to the inside, causing the cover to be lifted slightly off of the first page.

I sighed deeply and placed my hand on the cover, the warm leather thrumming with barely contained life under my fingers. The moment passed, and I rewrapped my parcel and stepped back into the rain as my umbrella shielded me once more. Steeling my resolve, I made my way back up the street as the cobblestones slipped and slid under my thick soled heeled boots. My convent wasn’t too far away now, but it’s up a steep hill and I knew I would need all of my strength to climb it, especially in the now-approaching-hurricane type rains.

The wind tugged and pulled at my umbrella but I pressed on, my long skirt whipping back and forth under the gale onslaught. The sidewalk was empty save for myself, and I startled slightly when a large, white limousine car passed me by. It passed slowly, and I got the feeling along the back of my neck that something wasn’t quite right. Regardless, I could see the large gate of the convent looming in the distance and I ducked my head down, powering through the last of the steep hill.

I swung open the large, barred door to the convent and cursed inwardly. Ahead of me was one of my fellow Sisters, bounding towards me with her habit flying behind her as she practically skipped. She was beaming a smile right at me, and I felt compelled to smile back, even uneager as I was to see her. Sister Marta has always been a rightful ray of sunshine throughout the convent, and it’s hard not to return one of her sunny smiles, no matter how drenched to the bone I was.

“Sister Marta, hello,” I said, putting on some false cheeriness. Happy as she was, she was never particularly bright in the area of intellect or societal clues, something I had grown quite willing to manipulate recently.

“Sister Lunaria! Where have you been on this awful night? It’s raining fit for Revelation!” She smiled at her own joke and I groaned inwardly to myself, closing my eyes for a brief moment before responding.

“I had some errands to run. Mother Superior gave me the day, once I finished with my translations. Some pocket change later, and I’ve got a nice new book. I thought it sounded nice, on a night like tonight.” I looked out the window just as a flash of lightning sparked across the sky in a low, concerning arc. A brief thought of the trees in the orange grove being struck crossed my mind before I saw the face in the window and I gasped, all thought of the trees gone.

“Sister?” Marta moved to me and took my umbrella gently, leaning it against the stone wall to the side of me with a tenderness I’d come to expect from her. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost!”

“Must um.. Must just be a chill, from the rain. I think I should retire, Marta.” I went to move towards the dormitory but stopped when she put her hand up, ticking one finger from side to side.

“Not quite yet! I need to see what book you got! Maybe I’ll want to borrow it when you’re done, silly.” A small spark of fear shot through me at the thought of her touching my new book-- my precious book that I spent six months of my earnings on, and that made my finger tips warm when I brushed against it, even through gloves. Even simply seeing it in that book store was enough for me to become beholden to it.

“Of course,” I said, gritting my teeth into a widened smile. Carefully I managed to unwrap the books, sliding the larger one forward so that it covered My book completely, showing her the cover. “It’s Anne of The Green Gables. I remember the matron at the orphanage reading it to me.” I managed, with some difficulty, to contort my face into something resembling nostalgic loss as I caressed the cover of it, keeping a tight grip on the other book underneath.

“Oh, Lunaria, that’s wonderful! What a grand idea!” Marta clapped her hands together in joy, gifting me with yet another beaming and sunny smile. “You should get that habit and wimple off, you’re probably bone cold!” It’s only now that she frets, shooing me towards the dorms. I supposed she’s on hallway duty tonight.

“Yes. Good night, Marta.” I started to leave before remembering to toss behind my shoulder a final farewell, “Go with God, Sister.”

Her own voice is muffled as she turns to leave, but I was sure that she gave the same farewell. She’s as to-the-letter as Novitiates can get within the Clergy. Finally alone I moved quickly to your private dorm, a gift now that I’m finally among the senior Sister’s in the convent. The door shut quietly behind me and once more, I ached desperately for a lock. Hedging my bets on solitude I moved towards my window, opening it and placing my hand below the pane. When I felt no water on my hand, I sat down in front of it and carefully unwrapped my parcel.

The book tumbled out of the linen wrapping and I grabbed it greedily, holding it to my chest like a lost child for a moment before settling it on my crossed legs. I brushed a hand over the cover again, snatching my hand back when it practically burnt me. Determination reignited, I brought both hands to my wimple and snatched it off of my head, my long lilac and white streaked hair falling around my face as you leaned back over the book.

This time when I touched it the cover was cooler. I opened the book delicately, running a finger down the first page as the black text seemed to leap out at me. In delicate, malicious lettering it spelled:

Malleus Lexicana

A chill ran up the base of my spine to tickle at my neck as I brushed my finger over the words. They were slightly raised, as if inked over and over again. When I turned the page, a single name was inscribed there in jagged, neat handwriting. Emeritus. I frowned to myself, recalling my past lessons in Latin. Was I correct in assuming that the owner of this book was a deceased Pope? My hand twitched with the urge to cross myself and I quelled it easily. The desire to step away from my faith has gotten only stronger since I first brushed against the book all those months ago, and even my nightly prayers have gone unsaid for weeks now. Taking a deep breath, I spoke the words aloud.

“Malleus lexicana,” I breathed. The words felt both foreign and natural on my tongue as they rolled past my lips and my breath caught in your chest as the book seemed to warm again in my grasp. I turned the page once more and stopped at a beautiful illustration of a cross. Fingers fumbling for my own crucifix at your neck, I studied the detailed drawing before realizing that it's shaped incorrectly.

A new child… Birthed into sin.

“My Lord?!” I gasped, dropping the book as I rose up onto my knees, gripping my crucifix tightly in the palm of my hand. A cold finger trailed up my spine once more, twirling some of the hair at the nape of my neck and leaving me shivering in fear and frigidity.

Of sorts… But not your Lord, little Sister.

“Who are you? Where are you?” I asked, whirling around onto one foot and knee to look behind me into the darkest depths of my small room. It was empty, although the pitch blackness seemed to writhe and curl inward on itself-- it felt sentient and ominous, watching me. Another deep breath to steel myself once more and I picked up the book again, settling back down in front of the window as a small gust of air moved my hair from my pale face. I squinted slightly, the vision in my white eye better for text than my other.

Turning the page revealed more words, again in some bastardization of Latin. It wasn’t the high form of Latin that I’d been taught, although some of the words are recognisable to me at first glance. It seemed to be a prayer of some sort, I thought to myself as my finger glided down the thick page. It ended on the word “nemA” and my felt my heart catch in my chest before beating rapidly. The sacrilegious undertones of the text were quickly becoming apparent and I found myself excited by the prospect.

Come to me, Sister. Renounce this coven.

“It’s not a coven, it’s a convent,” I mumbled out loud, no longer questioning the odd dialogue that I had going with the disembodied voice. Perhaps it was the book speaking to me, and perhaps it was my God questioning the strength of my waning faith. I deserved to have it questioned, did I not? So many nights spent in quiet contemplation of my life and the years I have left to live… likely stuck in the same black habit and small convent that I served already, at nineteen years.

Are they not the same thing, when serving a Lord that one cannot see, nor touch, nor feel? Do you feel His presence inside of you, Sister?

I paused, my finger still on the ending of the prayer as I contemplated the voice’s words to me. Thinking back over the past months, I realized as my heart dropped into my stomach that I hadn’t felt the presence of anything that I would consider myself particularly beholden to. Every waking moment had been spent doing my chores for a meager amount of money so that I could purchase the book. My book.

Ahh, there we are Sister. Come to me.

“I don’t even know where you are!” I closed the book, setting it gently to the side before standing and looking out the window as if to see where the voice is coming from. The darkness yielded no answers to me, and I felt childish for seeking them there. The storm beat down harsher than ever and the genuine fear of a flood breezed past my thoughts. A flash of lightning arced across the skies once more, lighting up the vineyard bright as day. A small part of me hoped to see someone or something in the distance, but the light revealed nothing out of the ordinary.

I am not out there, Sister. Your naivety is showing. I cannot wait to urge it out of you.

“Well if you’re not out there, then where are you?” I whirled around to face my room again, the shadows in the farthest reaches of the room seemingly darker. Impenetrable. Answerless, cold, and quiet. I would find no answers there, either.

I can see what you see not, Sister. Your vision milky, then eyes rot…

I squinted slightly as I looked deeper into the shadows, leaning towards them in an attempt to pierce the darkness. Something was moving in the darkness, wriggling and pulsating as I stared at it. At a sudden movement towards me, I took a half step back in shock, gasping as I collided with my wall. Tendrils of shadow writhed at the corners of my vision and I gripped onto the side of my bed as a wave of dizziness overtook me.

Now you can see what cannot be… Shadows move where the light should be. Out of darkness, and out of mind.

“What are you doing to me?” I whispered, my voice tearing with fear as my eyes refused to leave the spot that the shadows danced. A gust of wind through my open window disturbed the smoky shadow and it scattered quickly, only to reform in the basic shape of a man. I briefly recognized it at the silhouette of the hunched man who worked in the book store.

Pressing myself farther against the wall, my hand flew on instinct to the crucifix around my neck. My heart beat pounded in my ears as the sharp corner of the cross pressed painfully into my palm. The shadow figure staggered closer to me, one arm raised slightly as it approached. It was all I could do to remain silent in my fear as it made its way shambling towards me. Its jaw dropped open as it spoke in old Latin, and it took me a moment to realize that the thing’s mouth wasn’t moving as it spoke.

Its hand came to my forehead, and I felt the touch of old and weathered skin against mine as it pressed gently against me. More Latin fell from its desiccated lips as I watched in horror. My body felt unbearably cold, and then blisteringly hot. I broke into a feverish sweat as the thing finished speaking, pressing harder on my head before pulling back altogether.

I felt my vision beginning to swim as my eyes rolled back into my head from dizziness and managed to get my back against my bed as I fell. I blinked twice, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

“Sister?” I awoke to a pounding on my door, and my head pounding with it. Struggling to sit upright, I looked over at my clock on the wall. 9 am, and I was due for chores. I called something unintelligible out to the person in the hallway as I swung my legs over the side of my bed and attempted to stand. Almost instantly a wave of nausea and dizziness overtook me and I shot out a hand to brace myself on the wall. Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed hard before calling to the person again.

“Enter, please. I need assistance.” My stomach roiled as I sat, closing my eyes to attempt to ebb the waves of nausea coursing through me. I heard the door creak as it opened, and cracked open one eye to see Sister Marta entering. Of course. “Sister Marta, good morning.”

“You don’t look well, Sister…” Marta came to stand before me as she rested the back of her hand gently against my forehead. As much as I hated to admit it to myself, her hand was cool against my skin and the gesture was welcomed. She brushed back a strand of my hair as she cupped my face, lifting my head slightly to look at me. “I’ll tell the Mother Superior that you’re ill. Perhaps you should lie down.” Almost as an afterthought she added, “I’m sorry to see you without your headdress, Sister, but your hair is beautiful. As striking as your eyes.” I cracked open my left eye and regarded her lightly before drifting it closed again.

“Thank you. Would you help me lie down before you leave?” I’d never felt this weak before, and I was becoming concerned for my own health. Sister Marta put her hand gently around my upper arm and lifted my woolen blankets with the other as she assisted me under them. My heart warmed for a moment as I felt her tuck me in and adjust my pillow.

“Would you like me to bring you some broth in a while?” she asked, moving towards my window and drawing the curtains. I heard her pause, and I tensed in apprehension. Had she seen the book? “No wonder you’re feeling ill, Sister Lunaria! You let your window open all night.” She tutted to herself and slid the glass pane shut, locking it into place and securing the curtains tightly so that the morning sun was dimmed.

“Oh, how silly of me. Of course. I must just have some type of flu,” I said, pulling the covers over my head as I hunkered down into my pillow. In truth, my head was pounding fit to burst and I felt dangerously close to vomiting. I heard Sister Marta make her way back to my door and pull it open.

“I’ll let the rest know that you’re unwell today, and tell them to give you some space while you recover. Would you like the broth for lunch?” she queried. I snaked an arm out from under my comforter and gave her a thumbs up, which seemed to satisfy her. A moment later and the door clicked shut once more, leaving me in silence.

I fell into an uneasy seep, tinged with dreams of reaching darkness and a single white eye to match my own.

When I awoke, my room was lit by the afternoon sun and the curtains had been drawn back from my window. A mug rested on my nightstand with a covering on top, and I placed my hand hesitantly against the ceramic. Still warm. Sister Marta must have kept to her word and brought me some broth for lunch. I struggled to sit up in my bed and drew the mug close to myself, inhaling the steam before taking a sip.

The broth was welcome as I sat and rested, taking deep and steadying breaths. The nausea had abated almost entirely, though I was still dizzy. I drained the mug and placed it back onto my nightstamp, wiping the back of my mouth on my bicep as I stood and moved towards the window. I swore quietly to myself when I kicked something heavy, and looked down to see the book.

“Shit,” I mumbled as I picked it up. Sister Marta must have seen it, as it was laying in plain sight. Almost instantly the warm from the book invaded my senses again and I felt myself growing stronger, throwing off the cold that seemed to have gripped me when I woke up. My crucifix hung heavy and cold against my chest, and I eyed it for a moment before looking at the book once more. “Tell me how to reach you,” I said, hoping that the book would respond… That I wasn’t insane.

Your mind will guide the way. Come to me, Sister.

“If I come to you… I won’t be a Sister anymore, will I?” It was a stupid question, but the answer surprised me.

Si, of a different sort. Come. Come.

The voice grew impossible to resist, and before I knew it, I found myself at the small closet in my bedroom. I pulled open the door and found a small bag I had stashed away in the back, and hastily folded my habits into it. I tossed in the rest of my underwear and tights, as well as an extra pair of shoes as well. Finally, I took the book into my hands and stared deeply into the cover for a moment, making the final decision in my mind.

“I’m coming. What do I call you?” The embarrassment of speaking to an inanimate object flares inside of me again as I shake my head and move towards my window, unlocking it and hurling it open. As I stick one leg out the window, the answer comes.

You call me Papa.

“Alright, Papa…” I start, grunting with effort as I duck through the small window and make the short drop to the ground below. The heels of my shoes dig into the softened Earth and I reel slightly, leaning back heavily against the wall of my convent for balance as I yank them free. “Looks like I’m coming.” Without stopping to think or renege on my decision I started off, my feet instinctively moving towards the cliff that bordered my town. The castle loomed high above me, and I swallowed hard as I steeled myself.

The path that led to the base of the cliff was easy enough to find and navigate. The sign posts throughout the town that had bore the name of the castle had all been scoured or burned away, which left me with a convenient trail to follow as I made my way towards it. At the base of the path that wound up the steep, rocky cliff, I found myself stopped by a wrought iron gate. It had the same odd cross design that I had found in the book carved into the metal, as chains held the gate shut. It stretched the expanse of the road and I huffed a sigh.

Let me get that for you, sorella.

I stepped back with a shocked gasp as the chains fell to the old and weathered cobblestones, the gate swinging open towards me on silent hinges. Though the iron was mottled with rust, it made no sounds as it opened, yawning open like a mouth waiting for me to enter. I took another deep breath and moved forward, hardly jumping when it clanged shut behind me, and chains wound back around it like live snakes.

The thick woods welcomed me into the all consuming darkness with a silence that settled on my ears like a blanket. It was dark and still, but I felt no fear. In the distance, a wolf howled alone and I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle at the sound. Besides the wolf, however, there were no sounds within the thicket of trees. The path itself lay clear of any forest debris that I had expected to find after the storm last night, and seemed to be very well maintained.

Before long, I was panting as the slope of the path grew steeper. My legs burned and ached, and my feet protested any movement inside of my heeled shoes. I stopped to consider the drawbacks of removing them for a moment, before deciding that it was a necessity. I unhooked the buckle on either shoe before stepping out of them and carrying them in one hand, continuing up the path slightly slower, as I attempted to dodge the still standing puddles of water in my stocking-clad feet.

Finally, after what felt like hours I arrived at the base of the castle. As I expected from the view down below, it was in ruins. A large bell sat embedded into the cobbles in front of the entrance, a large crack running along the surface of it. It was golden, and embossed with the same sigil I had seen down below on the gates. Weeds grew between the stones unchecked, and pieces of stone lay scattered around the ground in front of me. I bent down and picked one up, weighing it in my hand before tossing it aside.

“Ah, you’ve arrived.” I started, looking up towards the entryway. A tall and poised woman was standing there, leaning slightly against the bell and regarding me with piercing blue eyes. She was dressed in a similar fashion to me, I noted with some surprise. A smart black dress hugged her frame, which she accessorized with a black blazer and a large silver necklace… that same sigil again. On her feet, nearly the same shoes that I had removed not long ago.

“Who are you?” I asked, picking my way carefully across the debris towards her. She held out a hand towards me with a smile, and I took it without thinking. Her hand was warm as she clasped mine, patting the top of my hand fondly with her other. Her smile reached her eyes easily, and I felt instantly calm.

“You may call me the Sister Imperator. I’m glad to see you’ve made it home safely.” My heart squeezed at her words. Home. I’d never had a proper one, being raised as an orphan, and the thought of having a true home was enough to bring tears prickling to my eyes.

“The book said… Papa was the one who called to me. Am I to meet with him?”

“Soon, child. Let’s get you inside and warmed up. We’ll get some food into that belly and a nice warm drink, I think. Then we can go through all of the introductions and explanations that I’m sure you want.” Her eyes left mine and traveled down my body to rest on my crucifix. “You are of the faith? Catholic?”

My own eyes dropped to the necklace hanging between my breasts as my hand came up to grip it. A million thoughts whorled through my mind before it landed on one that I was sure of: this place already felt more like home than anywhere else I’d ever been. I squeezed the cross tightly in my fist before tugging it, snapping the chain from around my neck. The silver chain dangled from my palm for a moment before I tossed it to the ground.

“No longer.”

#lorraine writes #fics #ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa emeritus

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