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#but it's been ten years since someone took a pole to the face for me
ghostlychief · 10 months
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Don’t Blame Me
Pairing: MW2 Ghost x f!reader
Summary: They say love makes you crazy, so can they really blame you?
Warnings: mentions of blood, knife usage (stabbing, stabbing people’s eyes, eyes being ripped out of socket); mentions of combat fighting; hints of torture and injuries from torture; typical MW2 lore
NSFW, MINORS DNI: blowjob, fingering, eating pussy; missionary; creampie; aftercare
WC: 7k+ (IK IT’S LONG)
A/N: hello hello! here is the long awaited ghost fic that’s been in development for quite awhile. Thank you so much for participating in my pole, and i hope you enjoy!!! I really let myself indulge in more of the gore this time around, so please read with caution if that kind of content bothers you.
ENJOY🫶🏻🖤
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--
You didn’t know blood could be this thick.
But, as you cut through the swarm of your opponents, you really don’t care how much of it gets on your clothes, seeps into your crevasses, and splashes on your face. No, you really don’t give a shit. Your only objective is to get to Ghost, and quickly.
All you see is red, literally.
Before you even fully process what you’re doing, the knife in your hand has already sunk into a neck, blood spurting everywhere, drenching you further.  You carry on, the one person you’re trying to reach at the forefront of your mind.
Should you have felt some remorse for the lives you ended? Probably, but it was like you brain was turned off. Actually, no, that’s incorrect. It was like your brain was wired differently, like it was wired to focus on one thing and one thing only: retrieve Ghost.
You can’t recall when you two got separated, or when he got captured in your last mission. All you remember is the pain you felt when you noticed he’d been taken.
You could blame yourself for his capture, but you decided to turn your fury towards someone else rather than yourself. You realized over the years that self-loathing wasn’t very efficient. It tends to waste time.
It was easy after all; it’s not hard to hold contempt towards the people that stole your lover away from you.
This was their doing. I’m only showing them the consequences of their actions.
It’s what you had to tell yourself. Otherwise, you didn’t see how you were going to come out of this alive. You had to redirect your rage, your frenzy. You had to channel it through your veins, making sure it heated you, and coursed through in a way that burned.
It had to be this way. It was the only way to help you be relentless against your opponents.
You were pretty proud of your knife skills; it was your favorite weapon after all. You always made sure to carry at least two with you at all times.
Today, you strapped on four and you were lucky, since you lost your first two about ten minutes ago. They were no doubt lodged into someone lying on the ground, pierced through their eye. That was your sweet spot, never failing you to effectively take down your opposition.
By this point, it felt like you had sliced your way through a hundred men and yet you still haven’t reached the door of the facility Ghost was being held in. Hope was on the horizon though because you could faintly make out the top of the door frame, which egged you on further. Your muscles worked tirelessly as your arms continued to swing at the men attacking you.
Occasionally, you would move your arms in a quick jabbing motion, repeatedly stabbing the opponent in the stomach and then you would land one last finally blow to their eye, your signature move some would say.
One of the downsides of this move was that sometimes, it took a lot of strength to pull your knife back out of the eye (hence your missing knives), which resulted in pulling their eyeball clear and out of its socket.
Not the best outcome of this tactic, but it is what it is.
Unfortunately, for your last victim, this very thing happened. You were thankful when his screams died down quickly.
You had a moment to catch your breath, hanging your head, quivering hands resting on your upper thighs. You looked up just in time to see someone charging at you, yelling, and with their own knives in their hands.
You noticed that they were the only one alive left outside.
One more. I can take care of him.
You swiftly moved to the side, but could hear the whisp of his blade cutting through the air. That was no good- he got too close.
Time to fix that.
Since you were so deft in your knife wielding ability, you also had a knack of being light on your feet and quick. Something that certainly benefited you.
While the man was no doubt taller and heavier than you, you were faster and anticipated his movements with ease. Sooner than later he too was on the ground, finished, with a sliver blade in his left eye, your red hand-grip the only thing you could see sticking out of his head.
You decided to leave it there, as a parting gift of course.
That’s where you got your nickname, Red Eye, seeing that your weapon of choice was wrapped in a blood-red grip that blended in with the blood that seeped out of your victims’ eye sockets. You thought the nickname was silly at first, but you just grew to accept it over the years. What can you say, you like the fancifulness of it every once in a while.
While you always had reputation, this name made your reputation grow into something almost bigger. While your peers and opponents knew you as the women with the red soaked blades, this name gave you a more, how should you put it?
Eerie reputation.
After stepping over your last remaining victim, you finally reach the double doors, leading into the building Ghost is being held captured in.
Before you entered though, you heard a voice through your comms. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Red Eye.”
Fuck me.
You hear Soap over the comms, “Wait for backup. We’re detecting three bodies via heat signatures”
You let out a groan, but made sure that your comms didn’t pick up on that.
“We don’t have time for that. I need to engage now.”
“You will do no such thing.” You hear Price’s voice cut through, stopping you from opening the doors.
“It’s a miracle you made it this far without any back up. Don’t test my patience.”
Ok, so you may have left without anyone knowing and got a two-hour head start before the rest of your team caught up to your location.
It’s just- they were taking, what it seemed like, forever to develop a plan to get your boyfriend out of captivity. You get it, logistics need to be air tight. But this was Ghost, Simon. Your Simon out there.
You knew he could handle what was given to him, but that didn’t ease any worry or hurt left in your heart, and it made you see red with anger.
That’s how your more or less ended up here, alone, slicing through about 30 men all by yourself. Not the smartest move you admit, but you had to get to Simon. You knew his time was running down, like a sand timer, each minute gone left him more perilous than before.
You were definitely going to get your ass kicked tomorrow at debrief.
You were just about to go in, thinking to hell with listening to orders, when you hear at least two sets of feet jogging across the gravel.
“Jesus, Red Eye. Leave any for the rest of us?”
You just roll your eyes at Soap, ignoring his comment. “C’mon guys, we need to hurry. Let’s take the last of the fuckers out and get Ghost back home.”
“Roger that.”
You go in first taking point, Soap and Kӧnig flanking you.
This time around, you have your handgun out, but your knife is safely held with your left hand, resting on the underside of the muzzle.
The hallway is dark, but it’s to your advantage. You think you see a light source coming from the hallway on the left that you’re coming up to, so you raise your left hand and point in that direction, signaling to Soap and Kӧnig.
This is where you come across the first person.
We must be close.
You let Kӧnig take him out. He comes up swiftly behind him and locks an arm around the man’s throat. First knocking him out, but then ultimately, finishing the job.
You three continue down the long corridor. They seem to go on forever. Sweat drips down your temple, and you hastily swipe it away, not wanting anything to obstruct your vision.
As you come closer to the end of the hallway, you start to hear something.
You raise your hand to signal Soap and Kӧnig to stop, and turn around so they can see you raise your pointer finger up to your lips.
You listen for the sound again, and you realize what it is this time.
Your blood runs cold, and goosebumps form on your arms, freezing you in place as you listen to the deafening sound that doesn’t seem to stop.
Ghost is screaming.
You don’t think you’ve ever heard him be this loud, let alone sound so full of pain. You have to pull it together though, you’re almost to him.
You continue on, making a right this time, and Ghost’s screams become louder. It’s good and bad of course. Good because he’s near you and you’re close, bad because he hasn’t stopped screaming.
You wonder how long this has been going on for.
You feel a heavy weight float down your chest, that takes its resting place in your heart. You find it hard to breath, and it takes every fiber in your being not to go into full panic mode.
You get closer and closer to the room Ghost is in, but you don’t hear him anymore. There is no one outside guarding, so the remaining two people must be inside with him.
Your stomach churns over.
You hadn’t realized it, but you fell behind both Soap and Kӧnig, but without a beat, they took your spot at point, leading you to the door.
They bust in first and immediately go after the two men that were standing by Ghost, who is strapped to a chair. It’s your job to get Ghost free of his confines.
But when you look at him, you freeze all over again.
He’s slumped in the chair, hands and feet bound by thick ropes that are no doubt leaving crude burns in his skin.
His pants have rips and holes in them and from further examination, you realize it’s from cigarette burns and cuts from blades.
You can’t see any damage on his arms but you’re worried what his shirt is hiding on his torso. You realize he’s slumped because he’s knocked out cold, probably from a concussion. But you know he’s alive because you see the slight rise and fall of his chest. It’s ever so faint, but it’s there.
You look around the room and notice a medium size table with different kinds of weapons and tools splayed out along the length of the table. You notice some have dried blood on them, while other tools are still dripping red. Rags litter the table as well. They’re dirty and also have traces of lingering blood.
Once again, you feel the embers burning through you, and you feel like you’re about to explode into a fury of rage.
You turn towards the two men that Soap and Kӧnig took down.
The two bodies lie on the floor and before you realize what you’re doing, you crouching over the first man, and with your blade, you start stabbing both of his eyes, switching on and off between the left and right. While you do this, a blood curdling scream leaves your lips.
It’s both terrifying and heartbreaking; a fine line dances between the two.
You snarl at the now eyeless man before you crawl your way over to his counterpart and release the same anger and revenge onto him. Your screech never faltering.
You don’t realize what you’re doing until you feel strong arms come up behind you and lift you off the dead man.
You start fighting their hold and it’s then when you start crying, your scream turning into a sob. The exhaustion finally getting to you.
“We got him. He’s going to be ok; it’s going to be ok.”
That’s the last thing you hear before everything goes black.
--
When you wake, you notice you’re lying on something soft. When you come to, you realize you’re on a bed, under a thin layer of covers and your head rests on a firm pillow.
You squint because the lights are overly bright but when they adjust, you notice the infamous florescent glow, meaning, you’re in the medical ward of the base.
You sit up, and you notice no aches or pains outside of your regular soreness you felt after fighting for an extended period of time. Your head also hurts, but you don’t really care.
You want to know where Simon is.
You notice a nurse a few feet away and you wave her over.
“Excuse me, but why am I in here?”
She gives you a tight-lipped smile. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that she’s nervous. She fidgets with her hands before answering you.
“Well miss, you fainted on your last mission. They brought you here to be examined.”
She moves over to the end of your bed and takes out the clipboard that resided in the pocket.
“Here, let’s see.” She looks over your paper before looking back at you, still with a trace of uneasiness.
“Seems like everything is OK. Your vitals are normal, and you have no major injuries, just some light bruising on your arms and hands. You are welcome to leave when you want.”
You glance down and notice the light purple that spans across your knuckles.
Before she can scurry away, you ask, “Wait, where are they keeping Ghost?” You shake your head, “I mean, Simon Riley.”
A look of pity crosses her face before she answers, “He’s in Ward C miss; the intensive care unit.”
She leaves before you can ask her anything else.
What the fuck was her problem?
You jump out of your bed, but immediately regret that decision when your head starts to throb right above your left eye.
Now is not the time for a migraine.
You make sure you have all of your belongings before you rush over to Ward C. Right before you are about to enter through the doorway, Price comes through and stops you with a hand placed on your shoulder.
He looks down at you – you’re really getting tired of being the shortest on the team- and squeezes your shoulder gently.
“Before you go in there, guns-a-blazing, he’s doing ok, alright?”
You just stare up at him and nod. Although it was good to hear Simon was doing ok, whatever the hell that meant, you still had so much anger left in you. So much you were hoping that just the sight of Simon healing would help quell you.
You walk past Price, a determined spring in your step, ready to be reunited with Simon. It’s been so long since you’ve last seen him.
Three weeks.
Three weeks he was gone, and you thought he was never coming back.
The intensive care unit is unusually empty so it’s not hard to find which bed Simon is occupying.
You quietly walk up to the side of the bed, and you are finally by his side.  
“You don’t have to tiptoe around me bug, I’m awake.”
Simon’s voice startles you and your head turns towards his. You notice his left arm is in a sling but a lazy smile graces his lips.
If you weren’t in a medical facility on base, out in the open to the prying eyes of the public, you would have immediately burst out crying just at the sound of his voice.
Instead, you let out a breathy, “I thought I lost you.”
Unlike Simon, your face has no hint of happiness. Your lips are slightly turned down, quivering and your eyes start to well up with tears, but you will them not to drop.
Your hands are balled up in fists but you bring yourself back down. You are here for him after all; it’s not the other way around.
You slowly unclench your fists and then gingerly sit down on the side of Simon’s bed, right at his hip.
That’s when you bring your hand up to trace down the side of his face, feeling the familiar stubble that never fails to tickle you when he kisses you.
Your hand comes back up to rub his cheek and you say again, “I thought I lost you, Simon.”
He brings his hand up to cup yours that still rests on his face. “I know, I know. But I’m here, and I’m ok.”
“Are you though?” You can’t fight it anymore, the tears stream down your face, their streaks burning your skin.
His hand that was resting on yours comes up to rub your head. “Promise.”
After that, you and Simon laid in his hospital bed for the remainder of the day. He fell in and out of sleep, but you were just thankful he was alive and breathing next to you.
--
It’s been about three weeks since Simon’s been back. He’s out of his sling and most of his bruises and wounds have healed. Expect for the deeper lacerations on his thighs. He also has some scarring from the cigarette butts. But over all, you would say he’s doing pretty alright, all things considered.
You’re both currently on base, since you needed to attend multiple meetings today, and you’re eating lunch in the cafeteria.
“So, I heard you went kind of, feral, when you came to rescue me.” Simon has an innocent look on his face, but you see him trying to hid his shit eating grin.
You narrow your eyes at him, “And who did you hear that from?”
He just shrugs nonchalantly, “No one in particular.”
You scoff. Fucking Soap.
You knew he must have told someone, if not Simon himself. He was quite the gossiper.
What a fucker.
“Well, did you want me to ask them to be friends?”
Simon lets out a low laugh. “That would have been funny.” You look up at him and see his eyes are lit with amusement.
You let out a sigh, but a ghost of a smile dances across your lips. You know he’s feeling better since he’s joking around.
--
Another three weeks has passed and you find yourself in the typical meeting room. The one you all use before a mission. That means this will be your last debrief before you jet off to where ever the location is in a few days.
The meeting goes well up until the part where Price says “And Ghost, you will wait here at the rendezvous point.”
You interrupt him, “Wait what?”
The room goes silent as you stare down Price.
“There’s no way Simon is going on this mission. Nope. Not happening.”
“Well, y/n, you don’t really have a say in this. Do you?”
The trace of condescendence has you short circuiting but you keep your cool. You glare at Price, “If Simon’s going on this mission, then count me out.” You don’t notice the slip of his name. Usually at work you call Simon Ghost or LT, but never Simon.
You storm out of the room and head back to your desk to gather your things to leave.
You hear someone lightly jogging behind you, and you have a hunch about who it is that followed you out.
You feel a hand softly grab your elbow and you hear Simon plead, “Wait.”
You sigh and turn around. Looking up at him you confess, “Look, I need to cool off for a bit. We can talk at home, ok?”
You see Simon contemplate whether to let you go or not, but he just gives you a curt nod. He gives your arm a gentle squeeze where his hand still rests, “Ok, see you at home.” --
You basically scowl your whole way home. Listen, you know you have some slight anger issues, but you’re working on it.
You get home after the long day and quickly make way to the shower, needing to feel the hot water run down your head and back. That will calm me, you think.
Once you step out of the shower, you already feel better. You’re clean, and you smell like your favorite soap. You change and do your normal routine after a shower then head to the kitchen to make yourself a warm cup of tea.
Evening tea is one of your favorite treats and it always seems to quell your nerves. Because that’s what you are right now, nervous.
You don’t want to fight with Simon, no, not at all. But you can’t help but feel frustrated at Price, and subsequently him, for deciding that he’s ready to go back in the field. Because from your perspective he’s not. Hell, it’s barley been a month and a half, and you think he needs more time to cope with what happened to him.
Sure, he’s seeing the base’s therapist, and he’s doing everything he can to keep his physical body healthy, yet you can’t help but the ball of worry that has formed in the pit of your stomach, fester. Something keeps nagging at you, and you don’t know what it is.
You just don’t understand how Simon can bounce back so quickly.
Luckily you didn’t have to wait too long for Simon to get home. And when he does, you find yourself perking up on the couch when you hear him come through the door.
He lets out a soft “Hey,” in which you respond just as softly back.
“I’m going to go shower and wash up, but then we can talk, yeah?”
You give him a nod, but also confirm, “Sure, that sounds good.”
His shower felt like eternity, but you know you only feel this way because you’re on edge. Again, you don’t want to fight with him. You just, you love him so much, you can’t stand to lose him again. No, it can’t happen again.
You hear soft footsteps on the tile as Simon makes his way through the kitchen to the living room where you’re still seated on the couch.
You look up at him before he sits down and grant him a quiet smile, and reach out your hand to his. His large hand grasps yours in his, and his thumb traces your knuckles. He then sits down next to you, and now his fingers are tracing over yours, relaxing you just a smidge.
You can feel his warmth radiating off of you instantly, and it takes ever thing in you to not glue yourself to his side.
You both slightly turn to each other, and funnily enough you each say “So,” at the same time.
You giggle and he lets out a low chuckle that makes your insides swarm. You miss him.
“You go first, bug.” The hand that has been tracing yours pulls you closer to him, and he embraces you in a warm hug as you both sit on the couch.
Before you start, you simply just bask in Simon’s embrace, not wanting to let go just yet. You begrudgingly pull away, but still keep your fingers connected in their little dance.
“I’m sorry for storming out today at our meeting. That was unprofessional, and uncalled for, but I just don’t see why you have to go on our next mission.”
“Aren’t you still hurting from what happened to you on the last one? I guess I just don’t understand why you want to go back in the field so soon.”
There’s a pause before you add, “How do you know you’re ready to go back?”
One thing you appreciate about Simon is that he never interrupts you, and he always lets you finish your complete thought before adding his.
When he can tell you’re done, he sighs and says, “Because, y/n, that’s what we’re trained for.”
“I wouldn’t have this job if I couldn’t put the pieces back together after every mission.”
You guess that makes sense, but you’re still concerned about him.
“Listen, I get that, I really do. I guess what I want to make sure of is that you’re actually doing ok and that you’re working through whatever happened to you.”
He’s told you the gist of what happened, and he confides in you whenever he feels like he needs the extra support, but you know that there are some things he’s still hiding. Which, you’re not going to push him to tell you, but you hope at some point he does.
He gives you a slight smile, “That’s why I love you. You’re always looking out for me, and I appreciate it so much, but I’m really doing fine, ok?”
He shifts so he’s leaning in closer to you, and now it’s his turn to cup your jaw with his hand. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and you nod at his answer. “I love you too.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
You grant him a smile in return and then he pulls you in for a kiss.
--
The kiss deepens and before you know it, you’re straddling his lap, one leg on either side of his thick torso. You’re a mess as you straddle him, and you wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer to him, if even possible.
He wraps his arms around you and subconsciously pulls you closer to him. His large hands span across your back as he holds you close to him. Your center brushes against his you let out a moan when you feel this contact. You run your hands down his neck and shoulders, feeling the taught muscles underneath his black t-shirt. As you rock your hips against his, you hear him let out a moan, which only eggs you on further.
“Fuck, y/n. Keep doing that again.” His hands travel down to hold you hips, almost as if he’s trying to help you move against him.
Your hands move in tandem and they come to rest at the base of his t-shirt, your fingers playing with the hem. You’re itching to take it off of him, and he seems to understand what you want, because he pauses kissing you to help you take off his shirt.
Now shirtless, you bring your hands up to his shoulders and then trail them slowly down his torso, nails ever so slightly scraping against his skin. You can feel each ridge and bump from his abs before your reach the hem of his sweatpants. Your fingers graze over his happy trail before you start toying with his sweats.
You run one finger along the hem of his grey sweats, then ever so slightly, your finger enters his pants, you run your finger under his sweatpants. You’re teasing him, and you can tell he’s getting antsy by the way he shifts as your finger runs along the band of his briefs.
As you continue to tease him, you trail or lips over his chest. Your lips wrap around one of his nipples, the unpierced one, and you softly bite him before you run your tongue over his nipple, suckling.
He moans out a gentle “Fuck,” and one of his hands comes up to grasp your hair.
You move over to his other nipple, the pierced one to be exact, and you once again softly bite him then suck. You make sure to spend your time here because you know this is one of Simon’s favorite thing during foreplay. Once he’s taken care of there, you continue to trail your lips down his abdomen, and now you’re finally at his center.
You get off his lap and sit on the floor in-between his spread legs. You place your hands right above his knees, and you look up at him with your swollen lips.
“You’re going to be good for me tonight, right?” You rub your thumbs in soft circles on his legs, waiting for his answer.
You see him gulp as he looks down at you, and then his lips quirk, in a smirk.
“What do you say?” Your hands stop their ministrations and you tilt your head, understanding what he wanted.
“Please.”
His smirk deepens, “Good girl.”
At his greenlight, you come up on your knees so that you can reach him better. Your trail the hem on his sweatpants one last time before you start pulling them down off his hips, making sure that his briefs come off too. He lifts his butt to help you, and now you’ve successfully taken his pants and underwear off.
You greedily take in the size of him. His dick is hard and slightly curved as it lays against his stomach. You wrap your hand around him, he’s so thick that your hand doesn’t close around it the whole way. You pump him slowly, as you look at him. His eyes are blown out and he leans his head back against the couch. You smile at him before you lower yourself. You link one strip up his dick, making him squirm underneath you. You then you bring up your hand to start pumping him. As your hand moves up and down, your lips come up to kiss the to crown of his dick.
You look up at him again, locking eyes and then wrap your lips around him. Once your lips make contact, he lets out a low moan. You continue to sink down on him. You move your head up and down, trying to adjust to his size. The part of his dick that you can’t fit into your mouth, you cover with your hand, pumping him up and down.
Your hair falls around you, and at this, Simon carefully takes your hair into one hand, putting it into a makeshift ponytail.
“Fuck, baby that feels so good.”
You continue to suck on him, hollowing out your cheeks. You know he’s close when you see his abs start to clench and his legs start to stiffen.
The moans he lets out has your getting wetter and wetter by the minute, and you squirm, trying to ease some of the pent-up tension you’re feeling.
Your unoccupied hand comes down to play with his balls, gently squeezing them and that is what does him in. He lets out a louder groan and you feel his warm come shoot down your throat.
You keep your mouth on him, cleaning him up before you slowly take yourself off him. You wipe your lips with the back of your hand and you sit back on your heels, smiling at him.
He runs a hand through his hair, and lets out a low chuckle.
“Damn, you really did a number on me there.” You laugh yourself and you come up to the couch, sitting beside him so you can turn his head to give him a lingering kiss.
You give him a few pecks, “What can I say, I’m good at what I do.” Your eyes are bright as you look at him, and his hold the same amount of affection and adoration.
His low voice cuts through you, “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good, alright?”
You give him a brief nod, “Please.”
He pulls you back into him, and then starts to push you back so you’re lying on the couch under him. He’s kissing you frantically now, his tongue entering your mouth.
“Take your pants off for me, would you?” His hands make their way to take your shirt off, and while he does that, you slip out of your shorts, underwear gone with them.
“Thank you, baby.”
He keeps kissing you as his hand comes down to your center. He first cups you, and then brings his pointer finger to rub against your clit. As his pointer is stimulating your clit, his middle and ring finger run along your slit, gathering up all the wetness that formed over the course of the last half hour.
You see him bring his coated fingers up to you. “Taste for me,” he breathes. And without any hesitation, you suck on his fingers, tasting yourself, making sure to look at Simon while you lick his fingers. He watches you with fire in his eyes.
“Good girl.”
You’ll never get tired of hearing him call you that.
He brings his hand back down to your pussy and then enters two fingers in you, stretching you out deliciously. You whine as his fingers enter you; they feel so good inside you.
Luckily for you, your boyfriend has quite large hands, which equated to long, thick fingers, and he always knew what to do with them.
He starts picking up the pace, and the squelching sound his fingers make is deafening, and the only thing you can focus on as they move in and out of you.
You didn’t even have to ask before he’s adding in a third. You feel yourself clench around him, and you’re already losing your mind and he hasn’t even properly fucked you yet.
He’s hitting you right in your sweet spot, and your hands come up to hold him by the shoulders. He moves down ever just a hair, and you’re not sure why until he lowers his head. He spits, and then connects his lips with your clit, moving his tongue around your sensitive bud.
The addition to his lips on your clit has you seeing stars and you start to feel that familiar build up. You tumble over the edge, a bright warmness spreading through you.
Simon removes his lips and fingers from you and you’re both panting heavily. He’s bracing himself with one arm as he looks down at you.
Your hair is messily strewn across the couch behind you, and your eyes are bright. Your chest moves up and down as you try and catch your breath. You smile up at him, this time your teeth showing.
He gives you a peck on your lips. “How was that?”
You sigh, “Amazing.”
Another kiss is pressed on your lips and you can faintly taste yourself on him.
“I want to properly fuck you, and that can’t be done on the couch. Bedroom, yeah?”
You nod up at Simon acquiescing to his suggestion.
“Alright, up you go then.”
He swiftly pulls you up and off the couch into his arms. You squeal at the sudden movement but it turns into giggles as Simon carries you bridal style to the bedroom.
“Wow, my night in shining armor.” You lazily loop your hands around his neck as he leads you both to the room. He just laughs at your statement.
Once there, he gently deposits you on the bed, and wastes no time picking up where you left off.
He crawls on top of you and starts to kiss you up your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth. His kiss leaves you burning, and your hands eagerly reach for him, pulling him down further into you.
You wrap your legs around his torso, and feel his dick brush up against your center, hard once again.
He pulls away to look at you, eyes connecting. “Do you need any more prep?” He brings a hand up to brush away some of the flyway hairs that covered your face. His hand lingers, cupping your head, and his thumb brushes your cheek in a soothing back and forth motion.
Smiling you answer, “No, I’m good.”
“Ok.”
Bracing himself above you, his hand trails down to grasp his dick. He gives it a few pumps before running it along your slits, and lightly taps it on your overly sensitive clit.
He then slowly guides it into you, the stretch much bigger than what his fingers could offer. You both let out a sigh as he fully sinks into you, eyes connecting at this very moment. Once he’s fully inside, he gives you some time to adjust, his hand moving to hold your hips, thumb moving in circles.
“You okay?” He asks, looking down at you. You look up at him, “Yeah, I’m good, you can start moving.”
At your consent for him to move, he does just that. He pulls his hips back before he pushes them back into you. He starts off with a steady pace, not too fast, not too slow. You’re surprised he’s not pounding into you relentlessly like he usually does. This time his thrusts are much more calculated, calm, like he’s got all the time in the world. The slower drag of him against your walls makes you roll your eyes back, reveling in the feeling of him.
It’s only him, that’s all you can think about, all you can feel. You let go of the heaviness you’ve been feeling to focus on being with him now. It’s not hard, he makes you feel like you’re floating anyways.
Your fingers run down his face, down his shoulders, taking in as much as you can of him. Then you run your hand down his tattooed arm, mapping the intricate details of his tattoos and running over the protruding veins due to him propping himself up. Simon watches you as you run your hand across him.
He gives you a particular harsher thrust, eyes trained on you when you moan and clutch his arm a harder. He picks up the pace just a little, loving the way you look beneath him, taking his cock so well.  
“Fuck. Right there, baby,” you breathe. He hits that same spot again, but this time you move up the bed a little from the force of his hips. Your breasts jiggle as you shift up the bed and Simon’s eyes are travel to your chest. He brings his hand up to up one of them, rolling his thumb over your nipple. Simon keeps this faster rhythm with his hips, slamming into your now quivering pussy, showing you no mercy as he pounds into you with force.
His thrusts are powerful that leave the breath knocked out of you.
He removes his hand from your breast to wrap it around your leg. He positions your leg so it’s resting on his shoulder, now giving him a new angle into you. This position allows you to feel him move even deeper inside you, now feeling the tip of his dick hit your cervix, which makes you whine. His thrusts continue their hard motions, but his pace starts to slow down.
Simon’s hips start to falter a little bit in their smooth rhythm, a telltale sign he’s close. At his praising, you unconsciously clench around him, making him breathe out a silent curse as his hand tightens on your leg that is propped up on his shoulder.
“Si, I’m close,” you whine. You feel so full, so consumed by all things Simon, the only thing you can focus on is him and the building orgasm that threatens to spill over.
“Me too.” Simon removes his hand that’s been propping your leg up and moves it down to your clit, and starts to rub slow circles on the bud, making you squirm. You bring your leg down from his shoulder to wrap it around his torso once again pulling him closer to you. You drag your hands down and up his back as his thumb continues to abuse your clit. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
With a few more thrusts from Simon and the quick movements of his finger on your clit, you feel the coil in you snap, and it snaps hard. Your orgasm washes over you, a blinding white light that makes you feel like you’re going to pass out, and you call out his name one last time.
Your eyes squeeze shut and you see stars, as your pussy clamps down hard on Simon’s dick. He’s a moaning mess above you as he feels your orgasm that’s traveling through your body, your walls contracting around him.
He curses out a soft “fuck baby” and then he’s following just a hair behind you, traveling over his precipice as well, emptying inside of you. You feel his come paint your walls as your pussy continues to clench around him, as you ride out your second orgasm of the night.
He collapses on top of you but is careful not to crush you completely. You’re breathing heavy as you both come down from your highs, both sweaty messes.
He lifts his head to look at you. There’s a soft smile on his face and you smile back.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, bug.”
Your smile falters, “I never want you to leave me like that ever again. Got it?” Your voice is firm, but there’s an underlying trace of tenderness. Your hand comes up to push his hair back, waiting for his answer.
“Never.”
“Good.” You pull him back down to you for a kiss.
He slowly peels himself off of you and whispers out, “Wait here.”
You lay on your back, legs bent as you wait for Simon’s return. When you hear him entering the bedroom, you slightly sit up and you notice a washcloth in one of his hands.
He kneels back on the bed and gingerly pries your legs open so he can clean you up. He delicately starts wiping your center, his first few strokes making you writhe due to oversensitivity. His hand rests tenderly on your knee, thumb stroking back and forth as he wipes you clean. He must have run the washcloth under hot water because it’s wet and feels warm against your skin.
When he’s done, he pecks the inside of your knee and gets up off the bed to go throw the washcloth in the hamper. When he returns to you, he’s in his boxers, and he has a t-shirt in his hand.
“For you, my lady.” You laugh at him and take his shirt, pulling the soft material over your body.
You both clamber under the covers, and are now wrapped up in Simon’s arms.
There’s no place you’d rather be right now, and you’re so thankful the universe allowed you another chance to be with him like this.
If he didn’t make his way back to you, you don’t even know what you would have done. Probably would have gone mental, but who could really blame you?
360 notes · View notes
bteezxyewriter12 · 2 months
Text
Admire
Pairing- Yeosang x Named Reader
Word count- 8k
Includes- Fluff, secret admirer, fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, missionary, slight dirty talk, multiple orgasms
Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa
@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @prayerofthehaim @realisticnotes @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @stephy-nicole13
Gif Credit- woochwe
Masterlists- check out for more fics
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J POV
"So valentine's day is coming up", Yeosang teases
I pause the movie we're watching and turn to glare at him
He really wants to do this?
He finally is able to hang out with me after ATEEZ promotions ended and he wants to piss me off?
Fine
"Oh wow, you can read a calendar. Congratulations", I grumble
He laughs, "Got a date this year?"
He's really pushing my buttons
I've never had a valentine or even a boyfriend
I've never kissed anyone or had sex
I've never held a guy's hand
I'm not like him
I'm not confident, beautiful or friendly
He has his pick of thousands of girls who throw themselves at him
It's easy for him to get a date or a one night stand
As for me, ever since I was a kid, I was the ugly friend
Yeosang is the only guy I can speak to and that's because we've been best friends since infanthood
Around other guys I'm shy, stuttering, my face is constantly red and I'm awkward
A total fucking dork that loves video games, books, Pokemon and dungeons and dragons
I can't even talk to the ATEEZ members and I've known them for five years
"What do you think?", I snap
"C'mon Jo, you need to get a date sometime"
No I don't
I've given up
Out of my group of girls friends, I'm the unattractive one
In school, no one ever wanted to date me, often asking one of my friends out
The guys I liked liked my friends instead of me
My friends tried to talk to guys for me, hyping me up but the guy always rejected going out with me
And my friends are beautiful, Yeosang included so I've always felt so ugly
It's not their fault but mine
So I've given up on finding a guy
Especially since the guy I want is him
I'm not touching that with a ten foot pole and I will go to the grave with that secret
To be able to be around him and speak to him, I push away the feelings, lock it in a box inside me and shove it away
"Why are you giving me a fucking hard time Yeo? You know I can't talk to guys and you know no one wants me anyway"
"That's not true", he says to which I snort
"Stop fucking with me. No one likes the way I look and no one knows my personality because I'm catatonic around guys. So spare me"
"Well maybe you should try dressing differently"
Not this shit again
Ever since he joined ATEEZ, Yeosang is so into fashion and he's constantly trying to give me advice or take me shopping
It sounds like he's being an ass but he's not
He's really trying to help me
But I refuse to change the way I am
If someone wants me, I'm not going to pretend to be someone else
"Maybe not wear only tshirts and sweatpants. Maybe wear your hair down sometimes. Maybe put some makeup on. Maybe get some contacts"
No
I tried putting eyeliner on once and I almost took an eye out
I tried contacts and I couldn't get them in at the optical store
I kept stabbing myself in the eye with my finger and any time I got the contact in, I blinked and it fell out
I'm sticking with my glasses
I hate my hair in my face so I always wear it in a ponytail or bun
It's long but I'm scared to cut it because I've never had short hair before and I'm afraid it's gonna look stupid on me
So hair up it is
And as for my clothes I like slightly baggy tshirts to hide my big boobs and sweatpants are the most comfortable
I hate dresses, jeans that are too tight and tighter shirts show my boobs and dirty guys always say nasty shit to me
I'm not dealing with that
"No Yeo. I'm not gonna pretend to be something I'm not. If a guy wants me they get me how I am. It just so happens no one wants me."
"But-"
"No buts Yeo. Just stop talking about it. I'm destined to be alone and I'm fine with it", I tell him, lying through my teeth
Of course I want a boyfriend
I want someone who loves me, I want to be in a relationship, I want to have sex, I want to get married, I want kids
But right now I don't think it's in the cards and it may not be in the future either
I try to not think about it
"Jo-"
"What about you?", I interrupt, "Do you have a date?"
I want to stop talking about me
Better yet I want to get back to the movie
He smirks and that tells me that yeah he does
"Yeah"
"Oh. Nice. Is it the makeup artist you were telling me about?"
A few weeks ago he was telling me how pretty this girl is, that he likes her personality and was thinking about asking her out
My heart deflated a little but I'm happy for him
I'll always support him in anything and as long as he's happy I'm good
"No. A new girl"
"New girl? Where'd you meet her?", I ask, ignoring the pain in my chest
"At a fan meet"
"Is she....a fan?", I ask, surprised
He always said he'd never date a fan because they only knew the idol him and wanted him only based on that
He'd fuck them yeah but date no
I guess the right girl can make things change
"Yeah, she's a fan"
Fucking lucky bitch
"How'd you get her number?"
I know security is serious during these fan meets
After all, a crazy sasaeng could show up with the intention to hurt the idols
"Had her write it on a post it. Told her I'd text her", he explains, "I did, we talked for a few weeks and we have a date on valentine's day"
Yeah she's so fucking lucky
"Well that's great", I answer, fake smile plastered to my face, "I hope it all works out for you"
He nods, "Me too"
After a minute of silence, I say, "Can we get back to the movie?"
He nods, "Yeah Jo"
I nod, looking back at the TV and unpause the movie
Grabbing a pillow, I hold it tightly to me, forcing myself to watch the movie
Forcing myself to lock the hurt I feel about Yeosang going on a date with a fan in that tiny box inside me so I can continue to be fine
--------------------------------
Valentine's Day
"Joanne!", Balam calls me
I look up from the pills I'm putting into the bottle
"What? I'm counting", I answer
I can't get this wrong or bad things can happen to the patient
"There's a delivery for you"
What?
What delivery?
This is my job
I never order anything to the pharmacy
It's always to my apartment
So what the fuck?
"You need to sign for it"
I sigh, pouring the pills I put in the bottle out and back into the pile
I have to recount it
Getting up from my spot, I walk to the front of the pharmacy
A guy is standing by the register with a bouquet of flowers
Bypassing him, I look around for the delivery guy
"Uh Balam, there's no one here"
"The flowers genius", Balam says from the register, "The flowers are your delivery"
Flowers?
I can't take care of flowers
Everyone knows I kill them even when I try to care for them
I walk to the guy who hands me a clipboard with papers on it
"Sign please"
I scan the paperwork and sign the bottom
He hands me the bouquet then leaves
"Who's your Valentine?", Balam teases
I roll my eyes, "I don't have one. Hence why I'm working on Valentine's day"
I literally have no idea who sent this
"Read the card genius"
Turning the bouquet, I find the card on the other side
Pulling it out, my hand grazes the petals of the flowers and they feel strange
Holding the flowers to my nose, I smell them
They don't smell like flowers, more like a flowery perfume
The fuck?
Opening the card, it says
I know you aren't great with real flowers so I thought I'd get you ones that can last forever
Love,
Secret Admirer
My mouth drops at the words "secret admirer"
It sounds so childish, so cliche but for some reason it makes my heart beat faster
Who sent these?
Who actually likes me enough to send them?
No guy I know has ever shown any interest in me
And the only guys I know are the ones here at work, the ATEEZ members and Yeosang
And aside from Yeosang, I don't really talk to my male coworker or the members
So who is it?
It's someone who knows I can't care for flowers
Someone who remembers that and decided to get me fake ones instead
It's sweet
I feel myself smile softly at the flowers noticing that they're my favorite
Japanese Cherry Blossoms
Whoever sent this knows my favorite flower and went out of their way to find enough fake ones to make up the bouquet
"Hello, Earth to Joanne? Who sent them?", Balam asks
"I don't know. It doesn't say"
"Oh my god it's a secret admirer?", Balam squeals, "That is so romantic"
I mean I guess so?
I don't know, I have no experience with this
"Yeah", I say smiling
It may be nothing serious but it feels good to be noticed even if just for a moment
"I gotta get back to work", I say, going to the back of the pharmacy to my work space
I put the flowers down, next to my computer and get ready to refill the bottle
Right before I begin, I glance at the flowers again and I can't stop the smile forming on my face
--------------------------------
Opening the door to the cafe I go to everyday, I walk to the counter, scanning the menu to figure out what I feel like having for lunch today
I wait for the cashier to come so I can finally eat
It's taking a long time and I wonder what's going on
The cashier, Byeol, is always here, waiting for customers to come
So where is she?
I wait another five minutes, getting a bit annoyed
This is cutting into my lunch time
"Hi Joanne! Give me a minute please", Byeol calls, poking her head from the kitchen door
"Yeah ok", I grumble
I'm hungry and I don't want to get hangry or I can be very unpleasant
Just ask Yeosang
"I'm here", Byeol says, coming out with a tray of food and a drink
She places it in front of me, smiling, "Here you go"
"Uh...", I trail off, looking at the tray
It has all my favorites on it- Italian club sandwich, a blueberry lemonade and a original cheesecake slice
"What is this?", I ask, so confused
"Oh wait", she says reaching into her apron, pulling out an envelope, "Here. For you"
I raise my eyebrow, taking the envelope and opening it
There's a folded paper inside and I read it
"I know how much you love this cafe and I wanted to treat you to all your favorites. You deserve it. Enjoy"
Love,
Secret Admirer
My mouth drops, reading the note
Secret admirer again
Apparently this person knows a lot about me to get all my favorite things from this specific cafe
"Someone must really love you", Byeol says, smiling
"Yeah", I answer, doubtful this person loves me
Likes me maybe
Trying to be nice, more likely
"Uh did you see who ordered this?"
She shakes her head, "Someone called and explained what they wanted to do for you. They ordered your food for 1 pm and a delivery man came at noon, dropping off the money and that envelope"
That is so strange
Going through all this trouble for me?
And this person knows I take my lunch at 1pm
My coworkers know that I take my lunch at that time
But I doubt any of them know that I can't care for flowers
I literally have no idea who this is
"Are you alright?", Byeol asks, snapping me out of my thoughts
"Uh yes. I'm just surprised"
I thank Byeol, take the tray and go sit down to eat
I am hungry and these are my favorites so I should eat it
As I eat, I enjoy the food while wracking my brain for whoever this admirer can be
--------------------------------
Parking my car, I get out and walk toward my apartment building carrying the flowers and chocolate basket
When I got back from lunch, there was a basket of my favorite chocolate on my work desk- a mixture of Reese's peanut butter cups and York peppermint patties
Along with another note
"Just because these make you smile when you eat them and I absolutely love your beautiful smile"
Love,
Secret Admirer
Needless to say, I smiled reading the note
And yeah I ate some already but there is so much chocolate that I'll be set for days
Taking the elevator to my floor, I walk towards my door, already seeing an envelope taped to my door
I hurry to the door, taking the envelope, then going inside my apartment
Putting the flowers and chocolate on my coffee table, I sit on my couch opening the new envelope
It feels heavier that the other ones
I pull out the note, then reach in and take out a necklace
I gasp, looking at the beautiful dragon pendant
The dragon is curled around a crescent moon and a dark blue gem in the center
It's amazing
Opening the paper, a smaller piece of paper is inside and I read it first
It's about the necklace describing that the metal is platinum and that the stone is a sapphire for September birthdays
It's my birthstone
I'm just in awe
I look at the note in my hand
"I saw this dungeons and dragons pendant and immediately thought of you. I just had to get it. And I'd like to ask you on a date tonight. Please meet me at your favorite restaurant Boccalino at 7:30. I promise I am not a stranger and you know me. I will be wearing black pants, a black button down shirt and a leather jacket. Please wear the necklace. I'm sure it will look stunning on you"
Love,
Secret Admirer
I'm completely stunned
Someone is actually asking me on a date
Someone actually likes me
I am weary of meeting this person but they assured me I know them
And it's a public place so I can just scream or leave if it's a creep
I'm definitely going, even if it's just to see who it is
The only problem is that Boccalino is a fancier restaurant
It is my favorite even though I've only been there a max of three times
It's more like a fancy favorite restaurant
I don't know if I have anything fancy
I'm going to have to dig deep in my closet to find something I can wear
Glancing at the clock, it's already 5:30
I have to shower then get ready
I need to start moving
Getting up, I take the necklace with me into my room to get ready
--------------------------------
Parking the car, I get out and pull my dress down
I managed to find a long sleeved modest lace dress that my friend bought me and I never wore
I was lucky that it fit
The necklace goes really well with it too
There was no way that I was wearing the matching heels my friend bought in an attempt to sexy me up
Those things looked hazardous
I just put on my black flats I use to go on job interviews
It was as good as it would get
I left my hair down, parted at the side and it's driving me crazy
It's like a sheet down my back and the shorter pieces in the front keep falling in my face
But I can deal with it, seeing as I don't have any make up on and my glasses
I should of listened to Yeosang and learned how to do makeup and put in contacts
I'm kicking myself for ignoring him right now but I honestly never thought I'd ever be in this situation
Holding the small handbag, I start walking from the parking lot to the front of the restaurant
I'm excited to see who this person is and at the same time I'm terrified
I don't know how I'm going to speak to them without shutting down
I know I'm going to make a fool of myself but there's nothing I can do about that
As I get to the front, I see someone standing by the door, his back to me
In black pants, black button down and a leather jacket
I feel like I'm going to throw up as I walk closer
The closer I get, the more familiar the guy looks
He has longish black hair and the way he stands looks familiar
He turns around and I realize it's Yeosang
Oh shit, is he here waiting for the ATINY he has a date with?
What are the odds that he's taking her here at the same time I'm going to be here?
My chest hurts at the thought of him with that girl but I remind myself that I'm here with someone else too
The only person around is Yeosang
I guess I'm early or the guy is running late
"Hey Yeo", I call, walking closer to him
He looks to me, his beautiful smile on his face, "Hi Jo"
"What are you doing here?", I ask, "Waiting for the ATINY you're taking out?"
He raises his eyebrow, slowly shaking his head, "Uh no"
No?
But he said he had a date
"Oh. So why are you here?"
"Jo, I..uh..I'm here...for you"
I hear his words but they're not sinking in
"Wait...what?"
"I'm here for you. I...I'm the one who sent you all the stuff today"
"What?", I repeat, a million thoughts running in my head
It was him?
But why?
I know for a fact he doesn't feel that way for me
So why did he do all this?
Because he felt bad for me?
Because he knows I can't get a guy?
Oh my god
"I'm...here for you", he repeats and I just lose it
"Are you serious?", I shout, tears welling in my eyes
Is this some kind of funny joke to him?
He actually has the nerve to look at me in confusion
"Jo-"
"Why did you do this? To fuck with me? To tease me? To prank me? Did you lose a fucking bet or something?"
My god it hurts so much
I really thought that maybe someone actually liked me
Maybe one of the ATEEZ members
Or someone at work
Instead it's him playing a joke on me
"Jo, no this isn't a prank", he says
Yeah right
I don't want to hear any excuses
I just want to go home and cry
"Fuck you Yeosang"
Turning from him, I start walking away quickly
"Joanne wait", he says, his footsteps fast behind me
He moves in front of me, stopping me, "Wait. I can explain"
"No you can't"
I try to move around him but he moves with me staying in front of me
"Can you just listen?"
"No"
"Goddamn it, I fucking love you!", he exclaims
I stop, staring at him in disbelief
Is he seriously going with this?
That's unbelievable
"Yeah ok", I roll my eyes, getting angry
"I do. I love you. My god, you're so fucking oblivious. You don't pay attention to me at all or you'd see I'm stupidly in love with you", he yells
I stand there in shock, my brain trying hard to work out what he's saying
It's impossible
There's no way, he's lying, he's never...gave no sign...nothing
"I don't...you don't....", I stammer, my brain not connecting to my mouth
"Ahhh", he yells, his hand moving behind my head, pulling me to him as his lips crash against mine
Stars blast in my vision and I feel like the ground under my feet is tilting as his mouth moves against mine
And fuck, I actually feel the love he's pouring into the kiss
He not lying
He really loves me
I grab onto his shirt to steady myself, realizing that I don't know how to kiss
I try to follow what he's doing, moving my mouth against his
His arm moves around my body, pulling me against his, his other hand on the side of my neck, holding me softly
I feel his tongue lick my bottom lip and I instinctively open my mouth
His tongue slides in, touching mine and I let out the most embarrassing moan as tingles spread from the top of my head to my toes
It just feels so good
I never thought kissing could feel like this
But somehow I don't think it would feel like this with anyone but Yeosang
His tongue plays with mine and again I copy his movements, hoping that it doesn't suck for him
I don't know how long we kiss for but when he pulls away, he leans his forehead against mine
"Do you believe me now?", he asks softly
I'm completely speechless, my mind still preoccupied with his kiss
So I just nod
"I love you. I want to be with you. You're all I fucking wanted since we were in high school"
He just keeps on blowing my mind
"You...you never said anything"
"I couldn't. I was scared you wouldn't want me. Then I left to join BigHit, then KQ to train. Then we debuted and there was a dating ban for a year", he explains, "And I just didn't think you'd want me or you would of given me some sign that you did"
"C'mon Yeo, you know I'm completely stupid when it comes to this stuff", I tell him softly
He laughs softly, "Yeah but I didn't know you'd be this clueless"
I just smile
"Please jagi, tell me you feel something for me"
I do and I want to tell him I do
I just have to ask him something first
"Yeo, you...you said you had a date-"
"I lied jagi"
"Uh why?", I ask, confused
"Because I was trying to see if you feel anything for me or if you'd get jealous. I was scared to tell you my feelings Jo and when you had no reactions to what I said about the ATINY, telling me you hope things worked out for me with the fan, I figured you didn't see me like that. But I had to try. I couldn't give up on you without trying"
I'm at a loss
He's normally so confident, I would never think he would be trying to gauge my feelings for him
Then another thing occurs to me
"If you wanted me then why were you trying to give me advice on fashion? I know you like fashion but that's not me Yeo and I'm not changing the way I dress or do my hair or anything"
He smiles, softly touching my cheek
"I don't want you to change baby. I love the way you dress. I love your ponytails, your glasses, your sweatpants, sneakers, Tshirts. I don't want you to wear make up or contacts if you don't want to. I just said those things because you were saying that no one wanted you. I thought if I gave you some advice you could be more confident in yourself. But I love everything about you baby, including the way you dress. You're so fucking beautiful jagi, it's hard for me to tear my eyes away from you"
My mouth drops at his confession
He thinks....I'm beautiful?
He's beautiful, how can he think I am?
"I swear Jo, I don't know how you didn't catch me staring at you. I always had an excuse ready in case you caught me and called me out on it"
"I...I didn't notice because I was forcing myself not to stare at you", I confess
"Me?", he asks, hopefully
I nod, "Yeah you Yeo. I love you"
A huge smile forms on his face, "Yeah?"
I nod, "Yeah. I kinda fell in love with you around the same time you said you fell for me"
"Looks like we were both dumb"
"Yeah", I agree
"But...we're not dumb anymore?"
I shake my head, "No. I want you Yeosang. I always wanted you"
"We thank god because I was always yours. Always"
I smile, realizing that this beautiful man, this famous idol is finally mine
"I want to kiss you again", I say, my cheeks heating up
"You can kiss me anytime you want jagi", he assures me, "I'll never get tired of your kisses"
I know my face is even more red from his words
I never thought I'd hear things like this from Yeosang
"I..I don't know...what to do", I say softly, feeling inadequate
"Don't worry jagi. I'll teach you ok? I'll teach you everything"
I nod, relieved that he's not upset that I have next to no experience
He leans down, his lips against mine again, shivers running up my spine
Moving my mouth against his, I let his tongue in, his playing with mine
He takes my arms, moving them around his neck and I hold on while his arms move around my waist, holding me right against him
Slowly he pulls away, leaning his forehead against mine
"I love you"
"I love you", I tell him
"So you wanna go inside for our date?"
I nod, "Yeah. Definitely"
He takes my hand, pulling me with him
His hand feels so soft and honestly perfect around mine
"By the way jagi, you look fucking beautiful", he says, smiling at me, "And so fucking hot"
My mouth drops, "You're kidding"
He shakes his head, "I'm not. I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress. And that short skirt is driving me crazy"
Holy crap, my boyfriend thinks I'm hot
That is a word I never thought would ever be associated with me
"Yeah well that's fair since you drive me crazy all the time"
He snorts, "I've just been suffering in silence jagi. You drive me crazy all the time too"
I can't believe I'm having this conversation
And with Yeosang to boot
"I don't think this is an argument either of us is going to win"
"Yeah you're right", he agrees, "So let's just have a nice first date then?"
I smile, "Yeah baby"
He looks over at me, a big grin on his face, "I like that"
"What?", I ask
"You calling me baby"
I blush hard, not even realizing I called him that
"Can you keep doing it?", he asks
I nod, "Yeah"
He smiles, kissing my lips quickly, then opens the restaurant door, leading me inside
--------------------------------
My arms lock around Yeosang's neck as his lips stay against mine, his tongue playing with mine
After our amazing date, we came back to my apartment and we haven't been able to stop kissing or touching each other
He carried me to my bed, laid me on it and has been kissing me ever since
I learned quickly and I think he likes the way I kiss him based on his constant moans
"Mmm want you jagi", he murmurs against my lips, his hands running down my body
I know what he means when he says that and I do want him too
So much
I'm just scared because I've never done anything but I'm not letting that stop me
"Want you too Yeo", I answer
He already told me we don't have to do anything tonight, that's he's fine with waiting but I'm not having it
He's mine and I want him
I feel him smile against my lips, moving his kisses to my neck, his hands bunching up my dress
Holy shit, that feels amazing
"Fuck I'm so fucking excited jagi", he says, his hands touching my skin under my dress, every nerve on fire from his touch
"What?", I get out, his touch feeling so fucking good
How can touching feel so good?
"I said I'm excited to be with you baby", he repeats
"Why?", I ask, so surprised
I haven't done anything
I have no skills, I don't know what to do
This is going to suck for him
"Because baby, I'm the first one to see you naked", he murmurs, pushing my dress up more, "I'm lucky jagi. I'm the first one to ever kiss you. The first one to touch you. I'm gonna be the first one to undress you, the first to touch and suck your nipples, the first to taste your pussy, the first one to be inside your pussy. I'm the first one who's gonna make you cum. In my mouth and on my cock"
Oh my god
He's so fucking hot
Everything he's saying is true and it sounds like so much fun
He leans down to my ear whispering, "I'm the first one to tell you I love you and I want to be the only one who ever says that to you. I want to be the only one you say that to"
"You are Yeo. You're the only one I ever loved"
He leans his forehead on mine, moaning softly, "Fuck jagi, I'm never going to get tired of hearing you say that"
"I'll always say it Yeo. I love you"
"Fuck, I love you", he says, then his lips are on mine, kissing me silly
His hands move down, slowly pulling my panties off
I have to admit, I'm so excited and I lift my ass up to help him
Her throws my panties behind him, then helps me sit up as he takes my dress off
Next to come off is my bra and I realize I'm completely naked in front of him
He slowly pushes me back and I lay down, his eyes raking over my body
I blush hard just as he says, "Oh my god jagi"
His hands roam all over my body, his fingers trailing all over my skin, making me shiver
"You're fucking gorgeous Jo", he whispers, blowing my mind, his eyes moving to mine, "My perfect jagi"
My mouth drops as I process his words
"Perfect?"
"Absolutely jagi", he whispers
I don't know what to say, my cheeks on fire so I just move my hands to his body, tugging up his shirt
He moves his arms from me, letting me take his shirt off
I'm hit with his gorgeous body, muscles fucking everywhere
His chest is defined, abs cut into his stomach, his arm muscles bulging and I'm so fucking turned on
My boyfriend is so fucking hot
I mean I knew he was, I saw the Deja Vu video but seeing all of him....it's turning my brain off
"You ok baby?", he asks
"Yes", I whisper, biting my lip, reaching out and touching him
His eyes close as I run my hands all over him, his skin so soft
"Mmm jagi", he murmurs, my hands sliding up to his chest, my fingers dancing along the muscles
I slowly move my hands down, reaching for his pants, I undo his belt, opening his jeans
My hands shake while I pull his pants and boxers down as far as I can
He moves off the bed, getting his clothes off
I lift my head, gaping when I see him completely naked
His thighs are muscular too and my eyes move to between his legs
Oh my fucking god
His dick is so huge
He's already hard, his thick length standing at attention, his tip wet with cum
"Yeo, oh my god", I murmur
He smiles softly, coming back on the bed
His opens my legs, moving between them as he looks down at me
"Am I good for you jagi?", he asks shyly
"I ...uh...what?", I stammer
"Am I ok for you? Am...uh... am I...uh is my body..... what you want?"
I'm completely floored at how shy and insecure he sounds
"Of course you are baby. You're perfect", I assure him, "You are what I want Yeo. You're perfect the way you are"
He smiles happily, leaning down, his lips against mine
I fall into his kiss as his hands move and wrap around my boobs, squeezing so gently
Moaning in his mouth, he kisses me hard then moves his lips from mine, pressing kiss after kiss to my neck
Shivering against his lips, he laughs so sexily, turning me on
He kisses my chest, dragging kisses down to my boob
I wait in anticipation, his kisses getting closer to my nipple
When he gets there, his tongue licks my nipple and I moan so loudly, pleasure like I never felt filling me
His mouth closes around my nipple, sucking softly, making me cry out, my pussy getting so soaked
I don't think I've ever been this wet before
Of course it's him that makes me feel like this and I'm glad for it
He switches nipples, his free hand softly trailing down my body, down to in between my legs
His fingers rub on my clit, pleasure hitting me hard, my body shaking, moans falling from my mouth
He rubs faster, pressing on my bump, my pussy completely drenched
"Yeosang. Oh god Yeosang"
His mouth sucks harder on my nipple as his fingers move from my clit further down
I'm scared it's going to hurt but I trust Yeosang
I know he won't hurt me and if it does hurt, he'll stop
His fingers move along my pussy, groaning into my nipple, "So fucking wet baby"
I feel my whole body flush in heat, from his words and from how he sounds like he likes it
His fingers stay at my entrance and I feel one starting to press inside
My legs tense and he lets go of my nipple, kissing my neck softly
"No baby, relax for me", he murmurs, "I promise it's gonna feel good baby but you have to relax ok?"
"Ok Yeo", I answer, trying indeed to relax
He presses kisses to my neck and chest over and over, melting me into the bed
His mouth reattaches to my nipple, sucking softly, his finger sinking inside me slowly
It doesn't hurt at all
In fact it feels good
"Mmm so tight", he murmurs, "Can't wait to feel this pussy around my cock"
Oh my god
He so very slowly moves his finger, pulling out, then sinking back in, wiggling around
Over and over, pleasure slowly building
After a few thrusts, he adds another finger, both of them buried deep inside
His mouth doesn't stop on my nipple, sucking as his fingers stay inside, pressing around like he's looking for something
What, I don't know
Suddenly his fingers press on a spot that has my pussy gushing more juice, the bliss slamming into my body
"Oh fuck", I moan, one of my hands burying in his black hair, the other gripping the sheets so hard
"There we go", he says, his voice even deeper than it usually is
I feel his fingers leave my cunt only to surge back in and hit that area that feels fucking unbelievable
"Yeosang!"
"Got your spot baby", he murmurs, moving his hand quicker, spreading his fingers open inside me
I can't fucking believe how good it feels
I've touched myself before, used toys too but that pleasure is nothing compared to what he's giving me
As he fingers me, his thumb moves to my clit and he starts rubbing
"Fuck, Yeosang!", I cry as stars blast in my eyes
Holy fuck, this pleasure is on another level
It's different when someone else is pleasuring you
And add to it it's the man I'm head over heels in love with, the pleasure is astounding
My legs shake as I get closer to coming
It's just so much and I can't handle it
"Yeosang! Oh fuck", I yell as my orgasm hits me so fucking hard
His fingers move faster, his mouth sucking my nipple faster, the bliss incredible
"Yeah baby, cum for me", he murmurs, "So pretty jagi. My baby is so beautiful"
"Oh god. Yeosang"
God, is this what I've been missing?
This is what it feels like to be with someone else?
Somehow, I doubt it would feel this good with anyone else though
When it's over, I suck in air, feeling like I'm part of the bed, just reveling in the post orgasm bliss
Yeosang moves off me and I wonder where he's going until I feel his hands spread my legs open wider
Pleasure suddenly slaps me in the face and I shout his name as I lift my head up
I freeze in shock at the sight of my boyfriend eating my cunt like he's starving
His tongue flies all over, licking in between my slit, moaning like he's the one getting oral
His eyes lift to mine and I'm completely turned on
He looks so good in between my legs
He holds eye contact as his tongue slides up my pussy only to slide back down
His tongue runs all over, my legs shaking again, in pleasure
I can't, he's so good with his tongue
Fucking hell
His tongue slips down, poking into my hole and making me gasp
He pushes his tongue further in, and I can't help but clench around him
"Yeosang", I moan, feeling his tongue slide out
"Mmmm jagi", he groans deeply, his tongue shoving back in
"Fuck fuck"
He moves his tongue fast, fucking into me again and again
And I can't believe this man, this beautiful, sexy idol is doing this to me
That he wants to do this to me
And that he seems like he's enjoying it
A lot
His tongue pulls out, then slides up my pussy, flicking my clit
"Oh fuck", I cry, more pleasure zapping through my system
He laughs so deeply, making me shiver as his tongue flicks my clit again and again
I can feel my orgasm building up with each move of his talented tongue
I can't stop myself from plunging my hand into his black hair, holding on as I moan like a huge slut
I watch as his mouth wraps around my clit and he sucks like he can't get enough
Pleasure blasts in my body, making me shake hard
My hips start moving on their own, fucking into his mouth, my juice all over his face
And he just keeps on sucking like he doesn't have a care in the world
"Yeosang..I...I'm..", I breath hard, right at the edge
His eyes meet mine as he slurps around my clit and I fucking lose it
I tumble head first into ecstasy, screaming his name over and over as I ride the waves of pleasure
His mouth doesn't stop, sucking me through it, keeping me in constant bliss
It's fucking incredible
As I come down from the orgasm, Yeosang moves his tongue down to my hole, licking rapidly, swallowing and making moaning noises
When he finishes he moves on top of me, gently pushing me down on the bed
"My girl tastes so fucking good", he murmurs, his lips pressing against my neck, shocking the shit out of me
"I...I do?"
"So good my love", he answers, "So sweet"
He peppers kisses all over my neck, his cock pressing against my leg
"Can I fuck you baby?", he asks
It's now or never
I push all the nervousness away and just focus on him
"Yeah Yeo. I want that. I want you"
"Anything for you jagi"
I feel him start to move in slowly, stretching me open inch by inch
And it feels fucking good
I was expecting pain, knowing that it normally happens the first time
But I don't feel any of that
It just feels good
"Oh fuck", I moan, immediately tightening around his cock as he pushes in more and more
And somehow I get so much more wet
"Oh god", he groans against my skin, "Oh fuck, so tight baby. Fuck. Feels so fucking good. You feel so good jagi"
I swear I haven't heard Yeosang sound like this before
Like he's losing control
I can't answer as I feel him bury in my pussy
He stops moving, whispering, "I'm all in"
And fuck, I can't stop my pussy from throbbing hard around him
His cock is so massive, the feeling of being full so fucking satisfying
"God, fuck, you're pussy is so good. Fuck pulsing so much already. Feel like I'm gonna cum right now"
"Is...is that good?", I whisper
"Mmm hmm. Means you feel amazing jagi", he answers, "I knew you would"
He lifts his head from my neck, his eyes on mine, smiling softly
"You're perfect baby"
I blush, never thinking that any guy in this world would think I'm perfect
Especially Yeosang
But he does and it feels good
"You're perfect Yeosang. I love you"
"I love you Jo. So much"
He presses a soft kiss to my lips and I fall into him
"I'm gonna move, ok jagi?", he asks between kisses
I nod, wrapping my arms around his body, gently laying my hands on his back
His arm moves around my waist, holding me against him, his tongue playing with mine as he slowly moves his hips back
I moan in his mouth at how good his cock drags through my pussy, sending shivers all over me
He slowly buries back inside, forcing me open, my pussy gripping his length tightly
He goes all the way in, his head rubbing against that spot his fingers found before, pleasure filling me
He moves slowly, in and out, his hands gripping my body hard, his lips moving from mine to my neck
"Baby fuck. So good jagi", he whines, "So fucking wet for me"
I am
I don't ever think I've been this wet before
Every time he moves inside, I feel my pussy soak him
He breathes rapidly, his body tense and barely in control
"Can I go faster? Please baby. Wanna go faster", he begs, "Let me fuck you so good jagi. I promise I'll make you feel good. Make you want my cock all the time"
Holy shit
I never thought Yeosang would ever speak like this but fuck it's such a turn on
"Please baby. It'll feel so good jagi. I'll make it so good"
"Yes baby", I answer, wanting him to feel good as well
This isn't just about me
It's about us
He immediately moves, sitting up, both hands gripping my hips hard
He thrusts faster, slamming into me, sending me into so much bliss
Stroke after stroke he goes in harder, so deep in my pussy
I moan loudly, twisting the sheets in my hands, the pleasure intense
"So pretty baby", he whispers, "Fucking hell, your pussy looks so good on my dick"
My eyes move to him and I'm blown away at how hot my boyfriend is
His upper arm muscles are flexing, veins in his lower arms popping, his abs so tight as he thrusts, drops of sweat all over him
His hair is soaked, pleasure on his face as he bites his lip, his eyes watching his cock fuck me
He's so fucking stunning, it's stupid
"Pretty pussy", he murmurs, "Pretty hole stretching so wide. Creaming my cock so good, it's everywhere. Such a pretty mess"
"Is...is that g..good?", I get out
He nods, his eyes not moving, "I love it. Wanna see your pussy cum"
"Fuck Yeo"
His eyes finally move, slowly raising up my body until he looks at my face
He hovers over me, one hand moving next to my head on the bed, the other hiking my legs up his body more
"I want to see you cum baby", he says, "Wanna see how you lose it on my cock"
"Yeo, fuck", I whimper, his words turning me on more
"Want to feel you clench on me, drown my cock in your cream, feel your body shake, hear you scream my name"
I can't answer, just groan as the pleasure mounts, his perfect cock hitting my spot while his pelvis rubs against my clit with each stroke
He leans down, his mouth next to my ear, "Do you hear how wet you are for me?"
What?
"Do you hear how loud your pussy is when you take my cock inside you?", he asks, "Listen baby"
Silence falls for a second before I hear it
The wet squelching of his cock pounding my pussy along with his skin hitting mine
Oh my god, it's so fucking erotic
"Sounds so pretty", he murmurs, "Could listen to it on repeat"
"Yeosang", I cry, my back arching as I'm shoved closer and closer to my orgasm
"Yes baby", he urges, "Let me watch you. Fall apart for me"
"Baby", I gasp, my brain turning off from the incredible bliss, my pussy throbbing crazily around his shaft
"Yeah baby. Good girl. Scream my name, baby girl. Fall apart on my cock jagi"
His cock slams inside and I lose it
"Yeosang! Fuck! Yeosang!", I scream, ecstasy slamming into my body, taking over and stars explode in my vision
"Good girl. Fuck, it feels so fucking good", he praises, his cock fucking into me as I cum, keeping me in pleasure, nothing in my head except him
"Yeosang", I whimper, tears falling from the corners of my eyes from how good it feels
"Baby", he groans, "I'm gonna cum"
I just moan, tightening my legs around him
Fuck, I don't want him to leave my cunt
I want him to stay
"Ccc..... can I cum in your pussy? Please", he pleads
"Yes Yeo. Please baby. Wanna be full of your cum"
God, do I crave his cum inside me
Always wanted that with him
"Let me see you cum Yeo"
"Fuck!", he shouts, burying his cock inside me as he orgasms, "Joanne! Fuck!"
My mouth drops as I watch him, so fucking beautiful
His cock throbs hard inside me, warm sticky cum gushing into my cunt
I can't help my pussy spasming around him, like I'm sucking on his dick
"Yes baby, oh my fucking god", he cries, "Milking my cock so fucking good baby. Take it all jagi"
I do, enjoying the feeling of being filled
He breathes hard as his forehead leans against mine, his lips finding mine in a soft kiss
After, he pulls out, laying next to me, getting the blanket over us
"Come here jagi", he murmurs, pulling me to him
I go absolutely willingly, laying on the pillow with him, our bodies turned to each other, his arm tightly around me
His fingers softly run in my hair, his eyes on me, a soft smile on his face
"I love you", he says
I can't hold the smile back, so unbelievably happy
"I love you", I tell him
He leans forward, giving me a sweet gentle kiss that completely melts me
He's my everything
"Tired jagi?", he asks, after our kiss
I nod, "You?"
"Yeah baby"
Ok then
Sleepy time
I quickly run out the bed, shutting the light then jumping back in, immediately in his arms
Cuddling into him, he chuckles, his arms around me, body pressed against mine
"Fuck jagi", he says softly, "You have no idea how long I wanted to have you in my arms. Every time we watched a movie, a TV show, every time we were sitting next to each other, I just wanted to pull you in my arms and hold you. Never let you go"
"You don't Yeo. You never have to let me go ever again", I assure him, "I wanted to be in your arms for so long too Yeo. Just climb in your lap, both of us holding each other and staying there"
"You can from now on baby", he agrees, "I'll always hold you baby. Always"
I smile, "I love you so much Yeosang"
"I love you so much Jo. Always baby"
"Forever", I whisper
We meet in a gentle kiss, so much love between us
I normally hate Valentine's day but I'm so happy he made this one memorable
75 notes · View notes
oneatlatime · 9 months
Text
The Waterbending Master
Finally! Only took the whole season to find one.
This one apparently also has commentary. I'll leave it off for now.
After countless episodes without, we finally have another hybrid animal. Behold:
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A koala Sea-otter? That makes noises like a Raven. Alright.
Sokka saying "I'm not one to complain" is a) pretty damning evidence of his amount of self-awareness b) self-deprecating sarcasm c) a funny line that I'm reading too deeply into
Why is Appa flying so low anyway?
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Subtle signs that these guys are way too used to relying on bending: -no railings -no alternate propulsion source (seriously, not even an oar?) -no emergency supplies in case a trip runs long (I don't even see an emergency sandwich, and come on guys, it's not like waterbending controls the weather)
Random pinball bumper style ice stabbies does seem like a good defense though.
Not so subtle exposition dump from Zhao the asshole. Avatar writers are usually better at integrating catch-up dialogue. Looks like Aang will be arriving just in time to defend the Water tribe from the invasion that, ironically, he summoned. Talk about self-inflicted problems. Do you think if Aang had found a waterbending teacher somewhere else, the Fire Nation would have left the water tribe alone for another hundred years? Aang's been learning on the run; they could have picked up a single waterbender and hightailed it back to some cave in the earth kingdom to learn there. Or the water tribe could have sent a waterbender out to find the gaang as soon as rumours of the avatar reached them. See? This was avoidable.
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Always love me some sea-bison.
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They have bending doors like Omashu. Actually is this a door or a lock? I think the water level is changing.
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Is this a hybrid animal? The yak thing, not the two legger.
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Last time you got a hero's welcome, Suki's village burnt down. Foreshadowing?
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How often does this lady see sea-bisons? She just passed by one and didn't even bat an eye. Is there a secret sea-bison colony that's spent the last 100 years hiding from the fire nation in the north pole?
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Music Night! Need a better lyricist.
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What's going on here? Did they roast a giant turtle thing and now they're cooling it to serve by dunking it in water? Did they feel the need for a steam effect for the guy's speech so they heated up a giant thingy and dunked it in water? Is it a weird boat thing? It looks like it has a face. I bet it's a ritual object.
Are these pot stacks the water tribe version of Totem Poles?
Oh nuh uh. Nope. 16 is way too young to marry.
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This girl is so into him I can feel it through the screen, the dvd player, and the 15+ years since this aired.
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Even the head guy's like "yeah, he's an asshole, What can you do?" Let's put this asshole and Zhao the asshole in a room together. They can out-asshole each other. Should be fun.
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Remember back in episode three when I said that Zuko needed to learn how to lie? This is why.
Nevermind, we don't need to put Zhao and Paku in a room together to out-asshole each other. Paku wins. As far as I've seen, bending is not gender specific, either in who gets it or how it's taught/used. What kind of idiot would tell someone born with the ability to wield an incredible weapon that, actually, they aren't allowed to? How did this attitude get instilled in the first place? Why didn't the first guy who ever said this get slashed to death by ice stabbies thrown by the ten nearest female benders? Are these northern water tribe people so unbothered by the war that they can afford to sideline 50% of their forces? More than sideline, render incapable of defending themselves or others? Obviously this tribe is far too privileged if they can afford this attitude. And also far too bored. I guess hiding behind that giant ice wall for 100 years left them so understimulated that they turned on themselves.
Bad attitude? Fucking bad attitude!?! There's only one guy in this episode with a bad attitude and it isn't Katara. Zhao looks downright pleasant compared to this Paku guy.
Question for Paku: why would the Northern Water Tribe's rules apply to a Southern Water Tribe member?
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My god these two are so cute. Sokka could propose they disembowel whale carcasses for their activity and the princess would say yes.
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So the parrot lizard did survive the fall over the waterfall.
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They're little tiny children. Katara, who has spent her whole life wanting to learn to bend to fight, has literally been shoved back into the igloo with a bunch of babies to learn lady-bending (no offence to the babies). How how HOW is she so calm right now? If I were in her situation, I think I'd be so angry I'd be ugly crying. And also plotting how to murder that Paku guy.
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WHAT.
Paku the asshole is apparently a proponent of the tell don't show philosophy of teaching. The Tell-while-doing-unspeakable-things-to-my-lunch don't show philosophy.
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Unexpected backstory. This lady must have been pretty close to Gran Gran if she recognises a carving she presumably wore for maybe a few months about 50 years ago or more. Also this lady is shockingly dumb if she can't see why Gran Gran left this misogynistic hellhole, but I guess it can be hard to see it while you're in it.
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Nitpick time: How does the teacher recognise this? Isn't this just the water tribe symbol? Probably the most common symbol in the whole north pole?
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Nosferatu Zuko. Nosferzuko. Zukoratu? Iroh's pause here was so long that I checked in case I had muted by accident. And how does your crew being taken by Zhao the asshole make your crew traitors Zuko? Orders are orders.
So we're adding asassinating royals to our list of reasons Zhao is an asshole. I think he's won the title back from Paku.
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Fuck this port I guess.
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Zuko's dead. Huh. Bye then. Gotta say I don't get why he's so big in the fandom.
This princess sure does send some mixed messages. At least she didn't ghost him.
"Master Poophead." My God. It's perfect. Why didn't I think of that?
Aang passing on what he learns to Katara. Why didn't I think of that either? My plan was to get Katara to launch unprovoked attacks on Paku's students and study how they defend themselves until she can copy / surpass them. Mostly so I could watch Katara beat the crap out of sexists.
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Die mad about it you troglodyte. Disrespect? How nice it must be to have enough of your culture left that it can be disrespected. And you're going to deny the avatar training, thus dooming the whole world to death via fire nation, because you're butthurt? Freakin manbaby.
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YES! YES! BEAT HIS ASS! PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE!!!!!!
"I know. I don't care." + "I'm not doing it for you." = I'm officially in love with Katara. I took a while to warm up to her, I admit the first few episodes were a little rough, but this seals the deal.
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This screenshot sparks joy. Last episode Aang bitchslapped a fire nation guy with air. This episode it's Katara's turn with water. The Firelord Uber-Bitchslapped Zuko with fire a few years ago. All I need is an earth bitchslap and my collection will be complete. Avatar: master of all four bitchslaps. Also this wouldn't have worked to goad Paku into fighting if he was half as mature as he thinks he is. Although he gets points for being harder to goad than Zhao in the Deserter.
In an episode where the A plot is Katara, the B plot is Aang, the C plot is Zuko, and the D plot is Sokka's love life, the writers still manage to fulfill the Beat up Sokka quota. Good job guys.
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If only she'd aimed a couple of inches to the left. This show already includes a kid getting his face burned off. Surely a Poophead being separated from his nose is ok?
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That's twice now she's lost her necklace. If the carving has lasted 50+ years, surely it's earned a metal chain rather than a hair ribbon?
Gran Gran! Bullet dodged! Excellent call!
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That's a lot less beat up than I was expecting. And Iroh has never once given the impression that he isn't quietly ride or die for Zuko, so why would Zuko not expect Iroh to help him? Because Zuko isn't terribly perceptive? Because the writers needed a way to deliver yet more exposition?
I did notice that the healing lady specified that Gran gran was in an arranged marriage but Poophead was talking about love. Again, why was Gran Gran leaving a mystery?
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Underrated moment of wisdom from Aang here. He gets why the princess is upset and he's twelve! But I'd bet good money that the idiot on the right has no clue what's going on.
Princess ran so far away that it's night time now. This episode is not subtle anywhere, so I figured that the princess being engaged was the cause of this whole blowing hot and cold thing. Despite being 16 and fictional, Sokka handles mixed signals and rejection with 10000% more maturity and kindness than many unfortunately non-fictional grown men I've met. Kudos to Sokka for being honest and respectful.
Even redeemed, Poophead is still an asshole.
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Well that's a problem.
Fire Nation ships would be a lot more intimidating if they didn't look like shoes.
Final Thoughts
This episode was a lot of exposition, a lot of set up, and even some catch up. And it was not done as gracefully as this show usually does it. More than once the dialogue between characters felt like two actors lecturing the audience rather than the characters we know.
This episode also had twice the concentration of assholes. A Zhao episode I can deal with. An episode with a one shot asshole where Zhao doesn't appear? I could also deal with. But TWO grade A assholes in ONE episode? No. Too much.
My whole-hearted congratulations to Gran Gran for seeing Poophead for what he was, and refusing to put up with it. Leaving his ass didn't make him get the message. 50+ years alone didn't make him get the message. The granddaughter that ought to have been his being so disgusted by his conduct that she attempts to cut his face off didn't make him get the message. There was no way that this idiot was going to change. So congrats to Gran Gran for making an excellent call, leaving his ass to freeze, and getting two most excellent grandchildren instead.
I also have to applaud Sokka and Katara for not being bitter about the Northern Water Tribe. I can't help but notice the spectacular architecture, complete with embellishments and unnecessary non-structural doodads. Let's do a quick comparison (ignore the ship):
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Left has one waterbender. Right has all the waterbenders. We know that Northerners can travel south thanks to Gran Gran. The North couldn't have sent one sneaky waterbender to at least make the south a ship-proof wall? That chief guy has some audacity calling Katara and Sokka their brother and sister or whatever when they've evidently left the south to rot for a century. And I know the Fire Nation, the War, bla bla, but you guys are so bored behind your walls that you're cannibalising your own capabilities based on gender just for fun.
RANT INCOMING
Since I'm on the topic, can we talk about how STOOOPID it is to separate your combatants from your medics? Here's a secret about combat medics: they're both. They learn the basics of combat, and they learn the basics of emergency medicine (And a LOT of other stuff besides). Basic training includes basic first aid for EVERYONE.
Because here's the thing. People who get hurt beating the shit out of other people are usually hurt in an environment where beating the shit out of people occurs. If they are injured enough that they can't get themselves out of the 'beating the shit out of other people' zone, then unless they can treat themselves on the spot or their fellow soldiers can administer first aid or get them out, they die.
Alternatively, if they can't get themselves out of the 'beating the shit out of other people' zone, then medics have to be sent in. A medic who doesn't know how to fight who gets sent into the zone will - guess what? - get the shit beaten out of them. Now you're two men down at present, and who knows how many more you're going to lose over the next few days because you're down a medic. So unless every single waterbending fighter in the Northern water tribe is going to go into combat with a waterbending healer literally attached to them, there will be mountains of unnecessary losses and avoidable injuries.
Now let's look at this from the other angle. What happens if the enemy breaches your defences (because all your defenders are merrily bleeding out from wounds their bending could heal if only they'd learned how) and then makes their way to your combat hospitals? Which are full of soldiers who are too injured to fight and healers who don't know how to defend themselves? Apart from the whole living surrounded by their element thing, waterbenders' greatest advantage in a fight appears (to me) be to be their miraculous healing powers. Katara completely healed her burnt hands to the point where there wasn't even scar tissue and she had no training at all. A skill that can erase burns (the thing firebenders give you) negates the fire nation's greatest weapon - their fire. Any fire nation general who's not an idiot would therefore target waterbending healers, maybe even over waterbending fighters. So any fire nation commander would absolutely put 'capture field hospitals' as one of their top priorities. This is a kids' cartoon, so let's ignore historical precedent as to what happens to nurses caught in field hospitals behind enemy lines and say that the fire nation would defeat the waterbending healers.
Let's paint a quick picture here: in the background, a field full of waterbending fighters sidelined by treatable injury. In the middle ground, an inexorably advancing wall of firebenders. In the foreground, a field hospital full of defenseless waterbending healers. Just peachy isn't it?
How fucking UNSTOPPABLE would a bender able to shrug off a fireball to the face then turn around and take out a firebending platoon be? Get one hundred - no fifty - benders who can both heal and fight, have them advance in two rows: Front row fights, switches with back row when they're injured, gets healed up, rotates back up to front row as a replacement. Functionally unstoppable barring the need to eat and sleep (so long as they bring their own water). The Northern Water Tribe had decades to develop that. Unlike the south, they had the time, the resources, and apparently so little going on that they took up sexism to pass the time. The wasted opportunity here burns. See kids? Sexism hurts the sexists too.
This northern attitude is just dumb. It's illogical. It's stupid. I'd call it a ham-fisted unsubtle after school special of a plotline if it weren't a fictionalised version of something that's literally baked into to many cultures worldwide, past and present.
RANT CONCLUDED
What else can I say about this episode? Aang and Sokka had like three lines each, but they were very in character. Sokka and the princess are cute together. Zuko and Iroh had a good dynamic when they weren't acting in service to exposition. This whole episode really feels like part one of a two parter.
I think something might have been off with the narrative weighting of this episode. There was an honest to god assassination attempt and I forgot.
While the shot of Paku looking put out that the ice disk landed so close to his face was funny, I would have preferred it if Katara had gotten in one hit beyond her bitchslap. Just one. His ego needed the beating which it got via the necklace thing, but I would have liked to see actual beating too.
If I had seen this episode as a child I absolutely would have lost my mind over Katara getting to beat up a sexist. I'd bet good money that this episode did lots of good for the self-esteem of little girls who saw it.
Katara's plot line is like the plot of the Waterbending Scroll episode, but in a positive light. In that episode her selfishness regarding bending got them in trouble; in this one it helped. Seen in that light, the fact that it's the necklace rather than Katara's skill that gets through to Paku is a bit undermining, but if "magical girl has such impressive skills that the sexist dinosaur throws away decades of sexism for the chance to be her teacher" had been the plot instead, I'd probably be complaining about cliches instead.
All in all, a bit clunky, a lot of set up, and too many assholes and frustrating idiocy for it to go on my rewatch list. Feminist beat downs are good for the soul, but I'm not sure they outweigh Poopheads.
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muses14 · 1 year
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Little Mushroom (Review)
Type: Chinese Novel (BL) Genre: Sci-fi Author: Yi Shi Si Zhou Rating: ★★★★★ Summary: “Until the day humanity falls.” In the year 2020, Earth’s magnetic poles disappeared and humankind was nearly wiped out by cosmic radiation. Within the span of a hundred years, living creatures began to mutate and devour each other while the remaining humans, numbering in the tens of thousands, struggled bitterly in their man-made bases.
In the Abyss, home to the mutated xenogenics, there lived a sentient little mushroom. Because it had been nourished by the blood and flesh of the deceased human An Ze, not only did it take on a similar-looking human form, but a similar name as well: An Zhe.
An Zhe is determined to go to the human base to search for his spore, which had been harvested by humans. Once there, however, he faces the omnipresent risk of discovery and certain death as he tries to keep his non-human nature hidden from the Judges, whose responsibility is to inspect for and eliminate xenogenics like himself. And of all the Judges, Colonel Lu Feng is the most perceptive and merciless—as soon as he determines that someone is a xenogenic, he will execute that person on the spot.
But An Zhe’s mutation goes undetected by Lu Feng’s eyes, and so a tale of humans and xenogenics unfolds…
Silver Award winner at the 12th Chinese Nebula Awards for Chinese Science Fiction.
Characters:
An Zhe He is a (adorable) little mushroom who gains human form when a human died near where he was growing, and he absorbs his flesh and blood and gains some of his genes and memories. That said person was named An Ze, and thus, he adopted the name An Zhe. He became a special kind of xenogenic. Having lost his spore when humans came and took it, he made it his mission to sneak into a human base and take back what was his. Lu Feng The aloof and silent Arbiter who vowed to serve mankind in all ways. Having to bear the burden of killing xenogenics (people who are infected by creatures and lose their humanity) from entering the base he was residing in, he was the target of ire from people who felt he was killing without remorse. But little do they know this is one of the hardest things someone can shoulder, because I sure as heck thought so! Poor Lu Feng. Though one thing that was a little iffy was the fact he had so much POWER within the base. Like, his words were law, and he was able to kill whenever and whoever without question. This required some suspension of disbelief on my part, but there’s been worst things I’ve read. lol
Relationship: It’s cute, is one way I’d word it? It is subtle, but the way they interact is on a realistic level and An Zhe knows he can’t be with Lu Feng in the same way two humans can. In fact, at first he was afraid if Lu Feng even liked him a little bit. Not hard to think that since Lu Feng is stoic and of few words the majority of the time. He does tease An Zhe but our little mushroom didn’t quite understand, haha.
Minimal romance is fine to me so long as I can still feel like the characters care deeply for one another. The author nailed it in my eyes. The slow burn was very nice~
The epilogues go a little more in depth of their relationship, but I am excluding those and am only focusing on the main stuff, per usual. Supporting Characters: Does An Ze count? He never left my mind really the entire novel despite being present only in the beginning. It was because of him that An Zhe came to exist the way he did. THANK YOU, AN ZE! And I was moved that An Zhe never forgot about him. Bless his little heart. The scene where An Zhe wanted to go back to where it all began (during a certain segment of the story) moved me too, and I teared up a bit. Pauli was cool too. Most were killed off or forgotten about by the author. Oof. The remaining ones didn’t leave any kind of lasting feelings from me. Overall: Excellent read! I was never bored at any moment (and this is unusual for me) and binged it easily whenever I had the time to. I enjoyed how none of the main characters drastically changed or anything by the end. Everything was subtle and it worked for this novel. *chef’s kiss*
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ingo4you · 1 year
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LIGHT REMAINS LIGHT, EVEN IF THE BLIND DOES NOT SEE IT.
LEV NIKOLAYEVICH TOLSTOY
Goosebumps told me we were close.I raised my head tiredly and outside the window of the bus I saw an endless sea of ​​trees that were irradiated by the sun's rays. It was morning and there was a chill in the air, along with the scent of conifers and nature. And the memories started to come back again, one by one, each of them gave me a bigger and bigger slap that woke me up from my sweet sleep to harsh reality. I'm back at camp.I've always hated it here so much. My mom has been sending me here since I was ten years old, because she used to go here too and she really liked it, because they turned little girls into big ladies. I don't know exactly who came up with that idiotic idea, but a proper woman is made of a girl by making her cook, embroider, go on twenty-mile marches into the Canadian woods, and give them trails of courage among bears and wild beasts. It's kind of like a Girl Scout, except I never wanted to be a Girl Scout. So I guess I'll just suffer through the ten days with a fake smile on my face while they poke me in the back not to slouch. Such is Světlušek camp. Boring and pointless.It wouldn't be so bad if someone was here with me. Unfortunately, I didn't find anyone here in those eight years, and if I did, he was only here for one year. The trip here was really expensive and the operation of the camp was even more demanding. The road leads here through forests and canyons, because the camp is completely isolated and everything we eat here is caught, grown, plucked or stolen from each other. Moral for one.
As soon as the bus jerked to a halt, all the girls who, unlike me, were either excited or were here for the first time and didn't know what was waiting for them, ran out. Sighing, I climbed out with my massive backpack and stood on a familiar plain with a flag on a pole in the middle and cabins around the edge. The morning sun was shining and the wind was blowing, the birds were singing, it looked quite nice. That is, until Bianca came along."Line up girls!" she started yelling and clapping her hands like a tango teacher. She wore a white shirt and black riding breeches, which she probably never took off. Her gray-infested brown hair was neatly tied into a tight bun, which she tried to smooth out the wrinkles.With one elegant movement, she pulled out a list of names from her purse, and we couldn't even make a peep the whole time she was summoning us. Because when someone spoke, she pulled out a riding whip and slammed it on the ground, which gave me about three heart attacks. She was a crazy woman.And the camp looked like that too. Spartan facilities and heating only via fireplaces in the main cabin and small cabins. After everyone's names were called, we received blouses similar to the one she was wearing and hideous plaid skirts that covered our knees. Practical when digging flower beds.Even though this was an all-girls camp, I was more shy than I had ever been in my life. We hated wearing skirts, especially ones that were twenty years old and smelled musty. I just tried to bite the bullet and took my half ton suitcase into the cabin to slide it under the bunk and begin my ten day depression.
Bianca thought it would be wonderful to start the camp with a five-hour field trip. After those few hours, the only thing that was jumping in my head were the names of mosses and plants, which she was telling us the whole time, and every time she mentioned that we would have a competition in the camp to see who could list the most of them. It was always followed by a chorus of sighs, even from the girls who were optimistic that this camp would be fun.Almost three days of spartan training had passed and the only thing each of us was looking forward to was sitting by the fire in the evening. It turned out that some of the girls had smuggled marshmallows into the camp to roast and were happy to share with the rest of the camp. I also had the feeling that we were all united at that moment, huddling in the cold, trying to get some warmth from the fire, tearing marshmallows into pieces so that everyone could get them. Meanwhile, those of us who retained at least a modicum of common sense told stories and jokes, and everything was pretty good.The only ones not joining in on the fun were a certain group of girls who started throwing disdainful looks every time our circle started laughing. They probably thought we were all childish, stupid and immature, because apparently everyone except them is.They especially focused on one girl who was currently sitting to my left. Her name was Katrina and she was the quietest of our group. She always sat with her knees together and her hands on them, and her back was always as straight as a ruler. She was a typical gray mouse with a beautiful face that she tried to hide behind black rimmed glasses. She was quite pretty for being Bianca's niece.We all liked her very much, but the unpleasant group always had a crush on her, apparently because the appointed leader of the camp was always shouting at them. But poor Katrina was not to blame, she was the exact opposite of her. I don't know why, but for the next two days she always sat next to me, always quiet and just watching the forest and the stars.After a few more days, two girls went missing while walking and Bianca started to go crazy. She looked for them along with a couple of older girls around the edges of the forest, afraid that if they went too far, they would get lost like the two poor girls.
That day, everyone sat by the fire in silence. They just whispered to each other and cast hopeful glances at the forest. But after the girls, the ground collapsed."This isn't the first time someone has been lost here," she spoke for the first time since Camp Katrina. I just gave her a surprised look, her voice was quiet and measured, which I wouldn't expect from such a fragile girl."Has that happened to anyone before?""Yeah.. long before that.. when I was little.""Well… and who exactly..?""One girl has been coming here since the beginning of the camp. Her name was Rochelle and as far as I can remember we never really found out who she really was or where she came from. She was.. strange. She is always very pale and has almost silver hair. Bianca said she was albino and couldn't go out in the sun, so she preferred to go out at night. For example, on the trails of courage and so on..." she licked her lips and adjusted her glasses.“But it wasn't weird..she was obsessed with fireflies. I don't know if she was trying to impress Bea by being interested in the camp mascot, but I've never seen anyone so fascinated by insects. In the evening, she often went to the Meadow of Fireflies behind the southern forest and caught them in jars to bring them to the cabin, where she dissected them for hours to find out as much as possible about them. She liked their wings very much and made a collection of them on a bulletin board, where she pinned them with pins. Bianca said we shouldn't pay much attention to her, she lives in her own world and all… but she was so nice. She helped everyone, she was nice to us, it was just... this scared us.""Well, I don't know, I also know boys who collect bugs and tear off their wings." I laughed, but her traumatized expression froze my laughter immediately.
One by one we humiliatingly walked up to Bianca and drew our order out of a hat. 17 out of thirty girls fell for me. That wasn't so terrible.I tried to at least calm myself by basically being in the middle, there had to be someone who drew 1 or 30. That would have been much worse.
But as I watched the girls walk one by one, begging the camp leader to at least let them go in pairs, my nerves started to get a lot more tense. But when it was my turn and I was given a map with a flashlight, I had to overcome my fear and walked into the forest, all knocked out.The path was different every year, but this year at least Bianca had mercy and gave us a red ribbon every fifty meters just to be sure. It wasn't because she liked us or felt sorry for us, but because she was afraid of losing more girls. And that would be the end."Back in two hours!" Bea called me and I just swallowed. Two hours? Why can't we have half an hour like other camps?At this moment, unfortunately, I couldn't do anything about it, so I turned on the flashlight and followed the map into the forest. I was so shaken and controlled by fear that I did not notice until a quarter of an hour later that I had gone astray. And no streamers around me.I didn't even have any reference point to turn back to, everything merged into a rich mix of trees, stones and stumps. And dead silence around me.I suddenly felt so small and helpless. Everything was dark and even my flashlight looked like it couldn't go any further."Trail for two hours and she'll give me this scumbag." I tried to take out and put in the flashlights, but the light just flickered quietly and died. It was dark.And so I ran, everything merged into one another, empty around me, not even a living being anywhere, just an endless mess of trees and plants, leading me deeper into the forest.And after an hour I saw the light. And not just one. Thousands of little lights.
Fireflies
I had no other reference point to follow. And so I followed them. A meadow full of fireflies spread out in front of me and I immediately thought of Rochelle. This was her meadow. And no wonder she adored it here.
All around me were clouds of little bugs with lights and I felt like Snow White in a fairy tale. The stress and fear seemed to leave me, leaving behind a pleasant warm feeling of tenderness. I understood it. She couldn't go to the light during the day, so she looked for light at least in the dark.And after a while I even saw a red ribbon on a branch. A smile immediately appeared on my face. I let the fireflies be fireflies and hurriedly ran towards the streamer, which was gently swaying under the force of the wind. I felt an incredible relief when I got to him, I had to ask him if this wasn't a dream.
JiBut this wasn't a streamer.It was something wet and slippery. I took out my dying flashlight for the last time and shined it on him. A human intestine dangled from a branch above me.Paralyzed, I turned off the flashlight and backed away. I looked at my hand, which was covered in blood and excrement. This is real. This was from a human body.I grabbed my map and flashlight and ran far and away from where the "ribbon" was. Warning lights flashed through my head telling me to get out of there immediately.My legs wobbled and my breathing got harder with each step. Dark brown streaks of trees just swirled around me until I saw the light. They weren't fireflies. It looked like a normal light, coming from a large camp hut. Where else to go?It wasn't safe out here.And so I raced on to the cabin and didn't even bother knocking, fear would force me to rush straight inside the cabin and immediately lock it behind me. As soon as the flickering in front of my eyes stopped and I began to breathe normally, I immediately noticed the sharp, disgusting stench that irritated my nose. And across from me, in the middle of the room, there was a source of light – two quite distinctly glowing… things. I couldn't focus in the dark, so I took out my flashlight and turned it on.To the left and to the right, the dead bodies of the girls from the camp were stacked on the beds and counters. Of some, only a skeleton remained, dressed in camp clothing, some were in the stage of decomposition, and two of them were in such a condition that I still recognized them. They were two girls from the camp. But all the corpses had something in common.They had crushed bones in their bodies. And they had fabric wings sewn onto their backs.I pointed the flashlight in the middle and saw a human corpse standing in front of me. A pale bony body, stained with blood and scarred. The pale skin was almost translucent and you could see how the plucked tufts of hair were growing from the clearly visible skull. The carcass had a crushed left side in which the broken bones had been replaced by sticks. The white, now gray dress was soaked in blood at that spot, with feasting maggots moving beneath it. The missing eyes were replaced by glowing embers that emitted the light that brought me here. They were just like the other dead girls.Except this one wasn't dead."Do you know that fireflies have amazing vision even in complete darkness?" she smiled at me and quietly walked towards me.Shaky legs seemed to want to quit as I tried to get back to the door and unlock it. The flashlight fell out of my hand in shock and I couldn't feel the key in the dark.
“They can go by smell, hearing and vibration….”
She slowly walked towards me."Or they are guided by instinct... They have to find food..."I don't know how many days I've been here, but I feel like my time is running out.I have no idea about the time, all the windows are boarded up and the only way out of the cottage is at Rochelle's. She had her name written on an old camp name tag she still had on her dress.I hide under the bed in the room on the first floor. I can't even move because I would make noises. And she hears them. He hears everything. Apparently the absence of sight enhanced her other senses. She's constantly walking around in the dark and making weird smacking noises, she must have somehow learned how to use echolocation. Even if I was quieter and tried to slip past her, she would catch me.She has already passed by the room where I am hiding once. Her hands were all black and burnt from the coals she shoves into her eye sockets. He's crazy. She's wearing extra wings that she probably forced one of the girls she kept prisoner to sew. And I see that even then they tried them on when they involuntarily jumped off a cliff.And she acts like a firefly. She flails around to rearrange her wings, makes similar noises, and when she feels that the coals are dying out, she puts in another one. And I see that it also fulfills cannibalism.I can't go out. As she is handicapped by blindness, she knows about everything that goes on in the cottage. And he always has those huge knives in his hands. And on his shoulder is a small bag with scalpels.I just hope Bianca doesn't care that three girls from her camp are missing and he sent a patrol after us. I firmly believe that.
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Diary dated 2001,
MayFound in 2015 with the skeleton of a young girl with dead embers in her eye sockets.
original by EYELESS JACKIE
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stardustedknuckles · 3 years
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Do you realize that from Beau’s point of view, Mollymauk died for her? His last spoken words were literally, “Fuck it. If you’re in for Lorenzo, I’m going for Lorenzo.”
They barely knew each other, had only just begun to work towards a kind of kinship. And then he went and died for her, leaving Beau with absolutely no way to repay him.
Except to make damn sure that if another sacrifice was ever needed, it would be her.
Beau already had troubles with self worth before meeting the Nein, sure. Who wouldn’t, after the life she had?
But she got that tattoo in Molly’s memory, months later, and shortly thereafter tried to exchange her chance at family and at happiness for Veth’s. She is the first to put herself in risky situations for her family despite being proud of being a survivor. Molly’s death left devastation in its wake, but it also left her with a purpose.
Beauregard doesn’t have a death wish. She has a debt to repay. And I wonder, held up by the throat in front of her family for execution, whether there was some part of her that looked into those red eyes and saw the scales balance.
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Request: Imagine being Lin Beifong’s daughter and having a crush on Iroh II
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Tags: @tincdraws
Growing up as the daughter of Lin Beifong metal and earth bending were your whole life. You learnt to earth bend by the time you could walk and your mother had you in training from a young age so you graduated from the earth bending school at the top of your class with your eyes firmly set on following in your mother’s footsteps whilst also trying to emulate your grandmother’s success. You had a sharp focus and nothing else really caught your attention. You had friends but training came first and dating seemed something superficial you could live without. Republic city was your life and you would never dream of leaving it but your mother had other ideas.
Your mother thought you needed more worldly experience before you joined the police force so she sent you to the fire nation to gain some training as an officer. She claimed the fire nation had some of the best officers in the world and that they would help you learn invaluable real-life experience. You did not agree and protested the whole thing. All your training had revolved around the needs of Republic City specifically and you couldn’t see how you’d learn anything new about how to protect your city by travelling all the way to fire nation but your mother refused to change her mind and that was that.
So you were shipped off to the fire nation fresh out of the academy. Your mother had spoken to Firelord Izumi and it was agreed you’d be staying at the palace so not only would you be unfamiliar with the environment, you’d be in a place where every small look, word or action had large consequences. You didn’t know much about the fire nation and couldn’t really recall the royal family. You were aware your grandmother was very close with the late Firelord Zuko but since then things had changed. Although your grandmother’s friends (mainly Katara) had tried to keep the group close it was hard with everyone scattered across the four nations and so with each generation the group had drifted further and further apart. You knew Firelord Izumi had a daughter older than you and a son around your age called Iroh. You recalled meeting Iroh when you were younger at some event in the south pole but couldn’t remember much more than a serious fire nation child. So you arrived on the steps of the palace utterly out of your depth determined to see these three months through so you could return to your beloved city. You were shown into the palace immediately, your belongings taken by maids who refused to let you carry them yourself as you were a royal guest. You weren’t used to finery so proceeded through the palace partly in awe and partly in utter confusion why someone needed this many paintings of old men everywhere. You were finally shown into a large room. “Ah you must be y/n Beifong” a voice called and you turned to see someone who looked vaguely familiar. You knew he wasn’t Firelord Zuko or Firelord Izumi’s husband as he was too young so figured by his royal outfit this was Izumi’s second child the prince. “Prince Iroh, it’s an honour to see you again” you said bowing and he chuckled “I bet you thought that would be a winning line with any fire nation citizen didn’t you? Because we’re still all obsessed with honour like we were centuries ago?” Iroh asked and you hesitated. “If I caused any offence...” you started but Iroh cut you off breaking out in a large smile “no I was only kidding, it is a winning line we are still obsessed with honour”. You watched as Iroh laughed at his own joke surprised, you didn’t expect the prince of the fire nation to be like this. You figured royalty lacked the ability or the clearance to have a sense of humour but apparently not. “So have I really not changed since we were eight?” Iroh asked and when you frowned he elaborated “you recognised me but the last time we met was just over ten years ago”. You paused “ow no I didn’t actually recognise you, you were young, dressed in fine clothes with royal hairpins, not to mention you’re in the palace...you had to be the prince”. “Good deductions officer” Iroh said saluting you before he grinned “i’m in training too”. That piqued your interest “really? for the fire nation army?”. He nodded “yep! I’m an officer but my hope is to be general one day and to fully earn it, rather than just get it because of who my family is...hopefully in a few years i’ll get there”. “I’m sure you will” you agreed and Iroh led you into a large dining room. “Are we dining alone?” you asked confused and Iroh smirked. “Why? Not pleased with me?” he asked and you rushed to assure him that wasn’t the case when he laughed again “I’m joking again y/n, I know my grandfather told you the whole family would be dining with you in his letter to your mother but he, my parents and sister were all called away to an urgent matter and asked me to fill in as we’re similar ages”. “Ow” you nodded “that makes sense...is everything okay?”. Iroh nodded “everything’s fine just boring fire nation stuff...so shall we?” he asked holding out his arm to you. You weren’t sure if this was appropriate so averted your eyes and only took his arm lightly. Iroh smirked at your caution and led you into the room.
The meal with Iroh was nice. He was friendly, hard-working and interesting. You soon got used to his humour and learnt not to take him too seriously. You hadn’t met many other people your age who shared your passion for a military career and found it was nice, a sentiment Iroh apparently shared. He enquired what you were doing the rest of the week and when you replied nothing as training didn’t start for another week he soon had several of your days planned out with fire nation sights to show you. Iroh seemed to understand you didn’t know much about the fire nation so planned to take you to all the important sites as well as areas relevant to the army to peak both your interests. You enjoyed the prince’s tours greatly and even when training did start you continued meeting with Iroh regularly. You liked his company and were surprised that didn’t fade the more time you spent with him, if anything it grew more and more. You thought he’d be a spoilt entitled prince but he was kind and considerate pleasantly surprising you.
You didn’t become aware that you liked Iroh as anything more until one of your friends at the academy pointed it out. Since starting training you were progressing well, you achieved high grades and were held in high esteem by your fellow recruits. You had made some friends and often trained with them after the academy retired for the day. After a long training session you were heading to the palace when one of your friends called out to you “hey y/n some of us were going into town to celebrate our class’s good progress, do you want to come?”. You smiled pleased they wanted you to come when you remembered you couldn’t go “I’d love to Shani but sorry I can’t I have plans”. “Of course you do” she smirked as your other friend Aizori grinned “is it with Iroh by any chance”. “Actually it is” you said frowning at their shared look “why?”. “Ow nothing just it’s not every day your friend is dating the crowned prince”. “Me and Iroh are not dating!” you cried “our families are old friends that’s all”. “Uh...hu, if that’s true then what are your plans together may we ask?”. “We’re attending a party at the palace”. “Together?” Shani asked and you blushed “yes but he only asked me because it’s a formal event that’s apparently really boring so he wanted a friend there, trust me we’re not dating”. “But how can you resist?” Aizori asked “I’ve only seen the prince a handful of times but he seems to get better looking every single time! How don’t you get lost in those golden eyes and that chiselled jaw? The royal family has some amazing genes not even a Beifong can resist”. You paused considering it. For you looks weren’t very important so you didn’t tend to notice them. You held work ethic and determination as much higher priorities and Iroh scored very highly in both but in looks...you honestly couldn’t say. “I’m not sure I’ve noticed” you admitted and the girls rolled their eyes not believing you.
When you arrived back at the palace your friend’s words were ringing in your head and when you next saw Iroh something felt different. You took note of his looks and were surprised by what you’d found. Iroh was attractive, very attractive, how had you missed that? You stared at Iroh wondering if his eyes had always been that bright? Was his jaw always that sharp? His hair that good regularly when he frowned “why are you staring at me?”. “Nothing” you cried and he paused before shrugging “Are you ready to go?” he asked “the party has already started” offering you his arm. You nodded and took it cautiously following Iroh into the ballroom.
You could see why Iroh had wanted to invite you, everyone in the room was at least 60 years old or some stiff nobel person from an ancient line of fire nation families. All they seemed to want to discuss was old family bloodlines, territories or ancient traditions. After your fifth boring ambush by some old fire nation man Iroh pointedly headed for the gardens. You frowned as he exited discreetly, closing the door behind him, and headed away from the hall. “Iroh I’m pretty sure the party is inside” you commented and Iroh grinned “I know but I can’t take another second in there so humour me? One lap of the gardens then we’ll head back, please? I know you haven’t seen them properly yet so how about a tour?” Iroh holding out his hand to you. You rolled your eyes but took his hand happily. 
Iroh led you around the gardens explaining the different flora to you and their history. “I spent so many parties hiding in here as a kid” he grinned “this place is so huge they couldn’t find me for hours”. You smiled at the thought “my mother would’ve killed me if I did that”. “Mine did” Iroh chuckled “but I’d honestly rather face her wrath than some boring commander who wants to lecture me about our family’s history and why it’s so important...they’re literally my own family and even I don’t care” Iroh cried making you smile. “I see why you escaped out here so often, I’m very grateful formal parties were not a part of my childhood”. Iroh smiled and went to comment when the smile was wiped from his face and he grabbed you, quickly pushing you behind a large fern. “Iroh what are you...”. “Shhh they’ve come for us” he hissed and you frowned when you heard a voice. “Prince Iroh?” a man you recognised as the palace coordinator called “Are you out here? You’re needed inside”. You smirked and Iroh rolled his eyes “they’re relentless”.  “Master Iroh if you’re out there please return to the ballroom, your mother’s orders”. There was silence and then the sound of the butler coming closer. Your eyes widened and Iroh put a hand over your mouth pushing you further into the bushes. “Prince Iroh?” a voice called literally right beside you and Iroh smirked as you grabbed his arm in surprise. You heard a sigh and the sound of the man retreating. When the footsteps died away Iroh dropped his hold on you and you both burst into laughter. “I thought we were going to be caught and then royally punished...literally” you added and Iroh smirked “I wouldn’t let them punish you, it’s not your fault I dragged you out here”. “True but I didn’t try hard to stop you”. “You did encourage me” Iroh nodded thinking “okay it’s all your fault”. You gaped laughing “I never said that! You are such a liar” you cried pushing him and Iroh laughed grabbing your arm “okay okay maybe we share the blame 50:50?”. “No way” you smiled and Iroh paused “60:40?”. “I think 90:10?” you said grinning and Iroh sighed “fine, i’ll take 10% of the blame”. You shook your head at how wonderfully infuriating he was and smiled at him fondly. Iroh grinned back and you realised suddenly how close his face was to yours. Iroh seemed to notice too, he glanced down at your lips and you panicked moving away from him suddenly. There was an awkward tension in the air and you broke it with a cough “so want to show me more of the gardens then?”. Iroh nodded “right this way my lady” the awkwardness gone and led you further into the garden.
When you were safely hidden from the ballroom Iroh stopped walking, explaining this was one of his favourite spots in the whole garden and you gratefully took a break sitting down. “I can’t believe you’ve already been here a month” Iroh commented and you nodded “I know only 2 more to go then my mandatory 3 months work experience is done”. Iroh frowned “mandatory...so you could stay longer if you wanted to?”. “Hypothetically” you agreed and Iroh hesitated “do you think you’d extend it? Hypothetically?”. You paused “I’m not sure, I have enjoyed the fire nation far more than I thought I would but I’ve always wanted to complete my training as quickly as possible, I hope to be chief of police one day and I’ll need many years of service for that...”. Iroh frowned “isn’t the youngest chief like 41?”. You nodded “yeah so i’ve got time I guess, maybe i’ll stay for longer...is this just so you have someone to skirt your royal duties with?”. Iroh laughed “maybe...I like you being here, it’s nice not being the only person under 30 in every room”. You smiled “well i’m glad my presence isn’t displeasing to you...you’ve been pleasant as well” you added blushing and Iroh grinned. “Wait did I make a Beifong blush? That’s like a legendary occurrence, this is amazing!”. “Stop it” you cried but Iroh wouldn’t let you turn away “no, this will go down in history, Beifong blushes are rarer than dragons so I’m soaking up every second”. For the second time that day Iroh stared at you closely and you blushed more under his gaze but this time you didn’t move away. Iroh continued gazing at you before he lightly moved his hand to your cheek “y/n...” he said softly leaning in closer when a figure appeared. “There you are!” a voice cried and you both jumped away from one another. Your jaw dropped when you realised who it was and you dropped into a bow “Firelord Izumi...i’m so sorry I didn’t see you approach”. “Rise child you did nothing wrong” she said warmly “my son on the other hand...” she trailed off glancing at Iroh who paled. “Hey mom” he frowned and she raised an eyebrow “really? That’s all you have to say? No apology or grovelling”. “Erm I’m sorry for ditching?” Iroh offered and Izumi sighed. “Y/n would you please excuse us, I want to have a word with my son”. “Of course” you agreed bowing and you rushed away.
Iroh returned not long after with his mother and told you he had to stay in the ballroom for the rest of the party. You agreed to stay with him and he smiled gratefully at you making you blush and look away rapidly. The night passed and neither you nor Iroh spoke about what happened in the garden. How he’d almost kissed you and how you were going to let him. You couldn’t believe your own recklessness. What good did you think would come out of kissing the prince of the fire nation? You were obviously not an appropriate match and so there was nothing to be encouraged there. You resolved to never find yourself in that situation again and decided to just stay as friends no matter how much you got along or how attractive he was. Getting involved with a fire nation prince was not responsible behaviour. So after that night you made sure to put distance between you and Iroh. You didn’t stop seeing him you just made sure to emphasise it was a friendship. You didn’t let yourself get caught up in him the way you had in the gardens and always kept a level head. Iroh never tried anything or mentioned that night either and you supposed he picked up on your not so subtle hints. You carried on as before but there was definitely an unmentioned barrier between you which you never let fade.
You left the fire nation 2 months later. You didn’t extend your stay as with your feelings for Iroh you didn’t think it would be wise. Iroh saw you off and hugged you tightly before you got onto the airship. “It’s been nice having you around Beifong, I’ll miss you”. Iroh’s words made you hesitate and you hugged him tighter. For that time in Iroh’s arms you imagined what would have happened if you’d kissed him in the gardens that night. Iroh didn’t strike you as someone who flitted from person to person taking what he wanted, you think if he wanted to kiss you he must have felt something for you too and perhaps would have suggested dating. You imagined all the things you’d have done together but as a couple and wondered if you’d made a mistake, maybe you should have just gone for it? But then reality set in. If you really wanted to be chief of police then you couldn’t have short relationships with high ranking members of the fire nation. Other candidates could use it to show you had compromised morals and there was no way it would be a long term relationship due to your lack of fire nation heritage. Sure the fire nation was pretty progressive but that didn’t really apply to royalty. They had thousand-year-old traditions to uphold that couldn’t be broken easily so Iroh was never a long term option for you. Therefore all logical signs said you’d done the correct thing not persuing something with him...so why did it feel so shit? You finally pulled away from Iroh and he noticed your expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked and you shook your head looking away “nothing i’ll just miss it here...promise you’ll keep in touch?”. “Cross my heart” Iroh smiled “you’re not someone I intend to let slip away, expect a visit every time I come to republic city”. You pushed away the rational voice in your mind telling you to keep a distance from him and smiled “you’ll always be welcome and I’m very much looking forward to it”. Iroh blushed “thank you y/n” and you nodded back, just looking at him in admiration before catching yourself. “I should go...” and Iroh nodded “safe travels” and with a final look you walked away.
2 years later
After your departure you and Iroh stayed in regular contact and your letters only halted when he was deployed by the military but the second we was out he would write and arrange to come visit you in Republic City. You still thought about him and your feelings for him regularly and every time you saw him you knew your crush hadn’t lessened. You loved Iroh’s visits and soon they became the thing you cherished most. You told yourself all of this was fine because you’d never act on your feelings but sometimes you wondered if Iroh felt something too? You’d catch him staring at you or he’d blush if you smiled at him in a certain way. The very idea of Iroh liking you made you very excited but you also knew it would only lead to heartache. He wouldn’t be allowed to settle down with someone outside the fire nation so it didn’t matter if he liked you too. So you settled for his friendship which was more than enough for you. When Iroh was posted in republic city when he became general you were thrilled and you only continued to grow closer.
However republic city wasn’t as peaceful. There had been multiple attacks on the city from Amon’s chi blockers to Vaatu’s take over and you and Iroh were constantly pushed into the fray. Multiple times you’d faced staggering odds and every single time you wondered if you should confess your feelings to Iroh in case the unthinkable happened but every time you chickened out. You and Iroh had been safe every time but there was only so much you could push your luck.  
You’d been wary of Kuvira’s take over of the earth kingdom from the very start. Your aunt Su Yin had told you all about her so you weren’t surprised when she set her sights on Republic City but that didn’t mean you weren’t terrified. The avatar and her friends informed you what you were facing and you weren’t sure how you could even think about facing a giant mecha suit with spirit cannons. Iroh shared your sentiment but as general of Republic City’s army he was forced by President Raiko to lead his troops out there. Watching Iroh take to the front line you were swept with the desire once again to be honest with him, to tell him how you felt before it was too late. You decided three was too many times to chance it and so decided to finally tell him how you felt. You made your way to the general’s tent and found Iroh with Korra discussing strategies. You greeted them both warmly before making your way to Iroh’s side “could we please talk? I have something to tell you”. You knew Iroh had a hundred things to do but he nodded warmly squeezing your hand “of course just give me one second to...” when the radio sprang into action. President Raiko had surendering to Kuvira’s demands. Republic City was hers.
The avatar was furious and you matched her sentiment. You and Iroh joined her as she met with other leaders in the city like Tenzin and your mother and they all agreed something had to be done to stop Kuvira. A plan was quickly assembled, it was agreed that airbenders would attack the suit from the sky and earth benders would attack from the ground. You didn’t actually expect to damage the suit, you only had to distract Kuvira long enough for Korra to get inside. You were agreeing fervently getting ready to leave with your cousins when Iroh grabbed your arm. “Wait Y/n are you sure you want to do this?” he asked nervously “that mecha suit is dangerous there’s no guarantee you’ll be able to stop it”. I know but it’s my home, I swore to protect it and I won’t break my oath. I have to try and help”. Iroh sighed thinking and you watched him wondering what he’d say. “I understand why you’re doing it and I want to come too”. You paused pleasantly surprised “You do...but I thought President Raiko told you to retreat and surrender?”. “He told me to surrender the army not that I couldn’t personally engage in fighting, i’m not fighting as a general but as plain old Iroh” he announced proudly and you smiled “there’s nothing plain about you even without your titles”. Iroh beamed at you “Does this mean you agree? We can fight this giant together!”. You nodded your head “okay let’s go meet up with the others”.
You and Iroh rushed after the others and found them all suiting up. “Finally” your mother said spotting you but she frowned when she saw Iroh with you “y/n tell me you didn’t bring the general who is also the prince of the fire nation into this”. “She didn’t, I volunteered” Iroh spoke up “I’m not here as a general or as a prince but as a civilian so, where can I help?”. “You know your mother won’t like this” Tenzin commented and Iroh nodded “I know but some things are worth facing her wrath for” he said shooting you a smile and you blushed.
So it was agreed Iroh would stay. Your mother thought it would be best to place him on the roof with the airbenders, she ordered him to shoot lightning at the joints to try and cause some malfunctioning. When you’d all suited up the teams said their goodbyes and Iroh appeared in front of you. You didn’t have long, Kuvira’s giant suit was already in view and the ground shook whenever it took a single step. Iroh stared at you and sighed heavily “Y/n...”. “Don’t say it like that, we don’t have time and we’re both going to be fine okay?” you said faking a smile but Iroh saw right through it. “What did you want to tell me earlier?”. You froze caught off guard and blushed “I...I just wanted to...it doesn’t matter”. The ground jumped and Iroh looked at it nervously before stepping closer to you “I think I can guess what you were going to say”. “You can?” you asked nervously and Iroh smiled “yeah...you had another Beifong blush moment and I’ve noticed you do them around me a lot”. You went bright red and Iroh chuckled “yeah like that...”. You looked down embarrassed but Iroh took your hand gently “don’t, I blush a lot around you too”. You smiled blushing more and Iroh chuckled softly. “Y/n are you ready?” your mom asked and Iroh gripped your hand tightly. “Wait I want to tell you everything before you leave” Iroh cried but you squeezed his hand gently. “It’ll be okay” you smiled “you can tell me everything later and I think I can guess too”. Iroh grinned blushing “later then...just got to get through this”. “We’ll be fine, this is what he trained for” you smiled confidently “I promise I’ll see you on the other side”. Iroh nodded and stared at your lips, he went to move in when your mother called “y/n are you coming or are we leaving you behind”. “I’m coming!” you yelled and stepped away from Iroh “mothers” you commented and he smiled “go, i’ll see you after” and with a last look you both rushed off to your assigned group.
The battle
The fight went about as good as could be expected. The suit swatted the air benders away like flies and your group’s earth, metal and even lava bending barely slowed it down. But it didn’t matter, all that mattered was the avatar and her team managed to find a way into that thing and your team cheered when you saw she’d done just that. Now the fight was Korra’s so you let your guard down when suddenly the machine began malfunctioning. Your mother yelled for you all to take cover but you were too far away from the building. The suit exploded with a blast and you saw a blinding light and then black.
After the suit exploded everyone assumed the battle won. Half the air benders went after Korra to help her with Kuvira and the other half went to the ground to make sure the others were okay, of course Iroh went with the latter. He saw Bolin, your aunt and cousins but no sign of you or your mother. They told him they were all searching for you and he rushed to join in. With each street he passed his heart began to sink when finally he spotted you! In the arms of your mother unconscious. Iroh ran forward dropping to his knees beside you. “What happened?” he cried and your mother clutched you desperately “that thing exploded and she was too far to get into cover, it hit her sending her flying through the street and now she’s...she’s...”. Iroh saw the blood seeping through your mother’s hands where she held them against you. “No” he said viciously “y/n won’t...she can’t! We need a medic” he yelled loudly before taking off his jacket to wrap around your wound. “Maybe I can cauterise the wound?” he asked “seal it to stop her losing so much blood?”. Lin paused “I think the wounds too big but it’s worth a shot”. Iroh nodded and Lin lifted the bottom of your uniform. Iroh saw a large gash across your stomach and winced. He lit his hand on fire and pressed his hands against the wound. You gasped suddenly and your eyes shot open. “Y/n” your mother and Iroh cried in unison and you blinked trying to make sense of the situation before you groaned in pain. You tensed trying to get away from the burning but your mother held onto you “please y/n just hang on Iroh is trying to cauterise your wound”. “It’s not working” you grimaced resisting the urge to scream “Iroh stop! Please!” you cried and he yelled in frustration moving his hands away from you. “No it has to work if it doesn’t then you’ll.....we need a medic down here” he yelled again but he knew everyone else was spread out and there were no healers in the group. “It’s okay” you said breathing heavily as the situation dawned on you “Iroh it’s alright”. “No it’s not” he cried sinking onto his knees beside you “it’s not y/n, you can’t...you have to fight this, you can’t leave me”. You nodded “trust me i’m trying but Iroh if I do...”. “No y/n don’t even think about it! I won’t let you go it’s not going to happen”. “I don’t think we have a choice” you admitted trying to smile but Iroh just shook his head “but we never got our shot, we never got to talk, I never got to tell you...I love you y/n” he said simply “I have for years, that’s why I never found anyone from the fire nation because the perfect person for me is you. I know there’s traditions and rules but I don’t care, I don’t want anyone else but you. I’d give up anything for you and we were finally heading in that direction and now that stupid spirit cannon”. Tears leaked down Iroh’s face and you reached out a hand to him shakily. He took it and you stroked his face “it’s okay, i’m sorry for being too scared and cautious, I’m sorry for wasting our time together but I love you too, I hope that’s enough”. Iroh nodded “It’s more than I ever hoped, you didn’t waste time you have nothing to be sorry for y/n Beifong, do you hear me?”. “I do” you smiled before coughing in pain and your mother clutched you tighter. “Y/n” your mother cried and you smiled up at her “it’s okay mom, don’t worry. It’s all going to be okay”. You clutched her hand against your chest and took Iroh’s other one. “I’m with the two people I love the most, I’m happy. This is the best way for it to...”. “Stop” Iroh said crying but you just gripped his hand tighter “Iroh look at me”. He blinked through the tears but looked at you. “It’s okay, I promise you everything will be okay”. Iroh just said your name softly and rested his head against yours. Your mother wrapped her arms around both of you and you held onto both of them the best you could when you felt the world fading away. You heard sobbing and your mother faintly saying your name until everything turned dark and it was over.
Epilogue
Following your death the fire nation, earth kingdom and republic city all paid their respects in their traditional fashions. A statue was raised by your mother in the spot of your death and every year on the anniversary of your death both her and Iroh would visit it. Iroh and your mother supported one another following your death being the only one’s who understood how monumental the loss of your life was. They managed to get through it together and although neither of them ever stopped loving you they found a way to carry on. Iroh never married, he couldn’t even consider the idea and his family never pushed him to. He still lived a long and happy life. He was very involved with his sister’s children who he loved dearly and his family never stopped supporting him. If he went quiet and got a teary look in his eye or if he struggled serving in the earth kingdom they understood. Your family also treated him like one of their own, with Lin even calling him her son on a few occasions, and he was invited to all your family’s events in recognition of your love for him. Your memory never faded and when Iroh’s life eventually ended he passed on to find you waiting for him. He knew all the suffering and heartache was over, you were finally together at last. 
____
So initially I was going to write a happy ending as well but then I thought screw it, I want to cry so I killed off the reader...but I can release the happy ending as a part two if anyone wants it. 
Edit: For the happy ending version click here
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mischiefandspirits · 3 years
Text
Bernard Figures It Out
Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...
"I've connected the two dots."
"You didn't connect shit."
"I've connected them."
Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.
Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.
The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.
There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.
What was he missing?
Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”
“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.
They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.
Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”
“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”
Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”
“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.
“What?”
He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”
A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”
“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”
“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”
“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”
“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”
“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”
“But it’s Metropolis.”
“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”
Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.
“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”
“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.
“You know I prefer twinks.”
“BERNARD!”
“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”
Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”
“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”
Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.
“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”
That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.
“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”
Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.
“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”
“And the actual story?”
“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”
“Isn’t Signal also Black?”
“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”
“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”
“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”
Ouch. Sorry, Dick.
“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”
“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.
“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”
Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”
“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”
Tim pressed his face back into his hands.
“You see it, right?”
Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”
“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”
“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.
“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”
“Why would Bruce do that?”
“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”
“And two plus two is?”
Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”
Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”
“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”
Oh my god.
“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”
Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?
“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”
Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”
“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”
“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”
“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”
“Let me guess…”
Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”
Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”
“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”
Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”
“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”
“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.
Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”
Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”
Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”
“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”
“The what?”
“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”
… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”
“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”
“Gross.”
“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”
“No.”
“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”
“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”
“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”
“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”
Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”
Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”
“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”
“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”
“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”
Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”
“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”
Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”
Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”
Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”
“Huh… And the others?”
“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.
“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”
“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.
“He’ll be fine.”
“If you say so.”
“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.
The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”
“Sure, Bernard.”
278 notes · View notes
mcmansionhell · 3 years
Text
Underground, Part 1
[Author’s Note: A year ago, when waiting for the DC Metro, I came up with an idea for a short story involving two realtors and the infamous Las Vegas Underground House, typed up an outline, and shoved it away in my documents where it sat neglected until this month. The house recently resurfaced on Twitter, and combined with almost a year of quarantine, the story quickly materialized. Though I rarely write fiction, I decided I’d give it a shot as a kind of novelty McMansion Hell post. I’ve peppered the story with photos from the house to break up the walls of text. Hopefully you find it entertaining. I look forward to returning next month with the second installment of this as well as our regularly scheduled McMansion content. Happy New Year!
Warning: there’s lots of swearing in this.]
Underground
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Back in 1997, Mathieu Rino, the son of two Finnish mechanical engineers who may or may not have worked intimately with the US State Department, changed his name to Jay Renault in order to sell more houses. It worked wonders.
He gets out of the car, shuts the door harder than he should. Renault wrinkles his nose. It’s a miserable Las Vegas afternoon - a sizzling, dry heat pools in ripples above the asphalt. The desert is a place that is full of interesting and diverse forms of life, but Jay’s the kind of American who sees it all as empty square-footage. He frowns at the dirt dusting up his alligator-skin loafers but then remembers that every lot, after all, has potential. Renault wipes the sweat from his leathery face, slicks back his stringy blond hair and adjusts the aviators on the bridge of his nose. The Breitling diving watch crowding his wrist looks especially big in the afternoon glare. He glances at it.
“Shit,” he says. The door on the other side of the car closes, as though in response. 
If Jay Renault is the consummate rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xer trying to sell houses to other rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xers, then Robert Little is his millennial counterpart. Both are very good at their jobs. Robert adjusts his tie in the reflection of the Porsche window, purses his lips. He’s Vegas-showman attractive, with dark hair, a decent tan, and a too-bright smile - the kind of attractive that ruins marriages but makes for an excellent divorcee. Mildly sleazy.
“Help me with these platters, will you?” Renault gestures, popping the trunk. Robert does not want to sweat too much before an open house, but he obliges anyway. They’re both wearing suits. The heat is unbearable. A spread of charcuterie in one hand, Jay double-checks his pockets for the house keys, presses the button that locks his car. 
Both men sigh, and their eyes slowly trail up to the little stucco house sitting smack dab in the center of an enormous lot, a sea of gravel punctuated by a few sickly palms. The house has the distinct appearance of being made of cardboard, ticky-tacky, a show prop. Burnt orange awnings don its narrow windows, which somehow makes it look even more fake. 
“Here we go again,” Jay mutters, fishing the keys out of his pocket. He jiggles them until the splintered plywood door opens with a croak, revealing a dark and drab interior – dusty, even though the cleaners were here yesterday. Robert kicks the door shut with his foot behind him.
 “Christ,” he swears, eyes trailing over the terrible ecru sponge paint adorning the walls. “This shit is so bleak.”
The surface-level house is mostly empty. There’s nothing for them to see or attend to there, and so the men step through a narrow hallway at the end of which is an elevator. They could take the stairs, but don’t want to risk it with the platters. After all, they were quite expensive. Renault elbows the button and the doors part. 
“Let’s just get this over with,” he says as they step inside. The fluorescent lights above them buzz something awful. A cheery metal sign welcomes them to “Tex’s Hideaway.” Beneath it is an eldritch image of a cave, foreboding. Robert’s stomach’s in knots. Ever since the company assigned him to this property, he’s been terrified of it. He tells himself that the house is, in fact, creepy, that it is completely normal for him to be ill at ease. The elevator’s ding is harsh and mechanical. They step out. Jay flips a switch and the basement is flooded with eerie light. 
It’s famous, this house - The Las Vegas Underground House. The two realtors refer to it simply as “the bunker.” Built by an eccentric millionaire at the height of Cold War hysteria, it’s six-thousand square feet of paranoid, aspirational fantasy. The first thing anyone notices is the carpet – too-green, meant to resemble grass, sprawling out lawn-like, bookmarked by fake trees, each a front for a steel beam. Nothing can grow here. It imitates life, unable to sustain it. The leaves of the ficuses seem particularly plastic.
Bistro sets scatter the ‘yard’ (if one can call it that), and there’s plenty of outdoor activities – a parquet dance floor complete with pole and disco ball, a putt putt course, an outdoor grill made to look like it’s nestled in a rock, but in reality better resembles a baked potato. The pool and hot tub, both sculpted in concrete and fiberglass mimicking a natural rock formation, are less Playboy grotto and more Fred Flintstone. It’s a very seventies idea of fun.
Then, of course, there’s the house. That fucking house. 
A house built underground in 1978 was always meant to be a mansard – the mansard roof was a historical inevitability. The only other option was International Style modernism, but the millionaire and his wife were red-blooded anti-Communists. Hence, the mansard. Robert thinks the house looks like a fast-food restaurant. Jay thinks it looks like a lawn and tennis club he once attended as a child where he took badminton lessons from a swarthy Czech man named Jan. It’s drab and squat, made more open by big floor-to-ceiling windows nestled under fresh-looking cedar shingles. There’s no weather down here to shrivel them up.
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“Shall we?” Jay drawls. The two make their way into the kitchen and set the platters down on the white tile countertop. Robert leans up against the island, careful of the oversized hood looming over the electric stovetop. He eyes the white cabinets, accented with Barbie pink trim. The matching linoleum floor squeaks under his Italian loafers. 
“I don’t understand why we bother doing this,” Robert complains. “Nobody’s seriously going to buy this shit, and the company’s out a hundred bucks for party platters.”
“It’s the same every time,” Renault agrees. “The only people who show up are Instagram kids and the crazies - you know, the same kind of freaks who’d pay money to see Chernobyl.” 
“Dark tourism, they call it.”
Jay checks his watch again. Being in here makes him nervous.
“Still an hour until open house,” he mutters. “I wish we could get drunk.”
Robert exhales deeply. He also wishes he could get drunk, but still, a job’s a job.
“I guess we should check to see if everything’s good to go.”
The men head into the living room. The beamed, slanted ceiling gives it a mid-century vibe, but the staging muddles the aura. Jay remembers making the call to the staging company. “Give us your spares,” he told them, “Whatever it is you’re not gonna miss. Nobody’ll ever buy this house anyway.” 
The result is eclectic – a mix of office furniture, neo-Tuscan McMansion garb, and stuffy waiting-room lamps, all scattered atop popcorn-butter shag carpeting. Hideous, Robert thinks. Then there’s the ‘entertaining’ room, which is a particular pain in the ass to them, because the carpet was so disgusting, they had to replace it with that fake wood floor just to be able to stand being in there for more than five minutes. There’s a heady stone fireplace on one wall, the kind they don’t make anymore, a hearth. Next to it, equally hedonistic, a full bar. Through some doors, a red-painted room with a pool table and paintings of girls in fedoras on the wall. It’s all so cheap, really. Jay pulls out a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket along with a pen. He ticks some boxes and moves on.
The dining room’s the worst to Robert. Somehow the ugly floral pattern on the curtains stretches up in bloomer-like into a frilly cornice, carried through to the wallpaper and the ceiling, inescapable, suffocating. It smells like mothballs and old fabric. The whole house smells like that. 
The master bedroom’s the most normal – if anything in this house could be called normal. Mismatched art and staging furniture crowd blank walls. When someone comes into a house, Jay told Robert all those years ago, they should be able to picture themselves living in it. That’s the goal of staging. 
There’s two more bedrooms. The men go through them quickly. The first isn’t so bad – claustrophobic, but acceptable – but the saccharine pink tuille wallpaper of the second gives Renault a sympathetic toothache. The pair return to the kitchen to wait.
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Both men are itching to check their phones, but there’s no point – there’s no signal in here, none whatsoever. Renault, cynical to the core, thinks about marketing the house to the anti-5G people. It’s unsettlingly quiet. The two men have no choice but to entertain themselves the old-fashioned way, through small talk.
“It’s really fucked up, when you think about it,” Renault muses.
“What is?”
“The house, Bob.”
Robert hates being called Bob. He’s told Jay that hundreds of times, and yet…
“Yeah,” Robert mutters, annoyed.
“No, really. Like, imagine. You’re rich, you founded a major multinational company marketing hairbrushes to stay-at-home moms, and what do you decide to do with your money? Move to Vegas and build a fucking bunker. Like, imagine thinking the end of the world is just around the corner, forcing your poor wife to live there for ten, fifteen years, and then dying, a paranoid old man.” Renault finds the whole thing rather poetic. 
“The Russkies really got to poor ol’ Henderson, didn’t they?” Robert snickers.
“The wife’s more tragic if you ask me,” Renault drawls. “The second that batshit old coot died, she called a guy to build a front house on top of this one, since she already owned the lot. Poor woman probably hadn’t seen sunlight in God knows how long.”
“Surely they had to get groceries.”
Jay frowns. Robert has no sense of drama, he thinks. Bad trait for a realtor.
“Still,” he murmurs. “It’s sad.”
“I would have gotten a divorce, if I were her,” the younger man says, as though it were obvious. It’s Jay’s turn to laugh.
“I’ve had three of those, and trust me, it’s not as easy as you think.”
“You’re seeing some new girl now, aren’t you?” Robert doesn’t really care, he just knows Jay likes to talk about himself, and talking fills the time.  
“Yeah. Casino girl. Twenty-six.”
“And how old are you again?”
“None of your business.”
“Did you see the renderings I emailed to you?” Robert asks briskly, not wanting to discuss Jay’s sex life any further.
“What renderings?”
“Of this house, what it could look like.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Jay has not seen the renderings.
“If it were rezoned,” Robert continues, feeling very smart, “It could be a tourist attraction - put a nice visitor’s center on the lot, make it sleek and modern. Sell trinkets. It’s a nice parcel, close to the Strip - some clever investor could make it into a Museum of Ice Cream-type thing, you know?”
“Museum of Ice Cream?”
“In New York. It’s, not, like, educational or anything. Really, it’s just a bunch of colorful rooms where kids come to take pictures of themselves.”
“Instagram,” Jay mutters. “You know, I just sold a penthouse the other week to an Instagram influencer. Takes pictures of herself on the beach to sell face cream or some shit. Eight-point-two million dollars.”
“Jesus,” Robert whistles. “Fat commission.”
“You’re telling me. My oldest daughter turns sixteen this year. She’s getting a Mazda for Christmas.”
“You ever see that show, My Super Sweet Sixteen? On MTV? Where rich kids got, like, rappers to perform at their birthday parties? Every time at the end, some guy would pull up in, like, an Escalade with a big pink bow on it and all the kids would scream.”
“Sounds stupid,” Jay says.
“It was stupid.”
It’s Robert’s turn to check his watch, a dainty gold Rolex.
“Fuck, still thirty minutes.”
“Time really does stand still in here, doesn’t it?” Jay remarks.
“We should have left the office a little later,” Robert complains. “The charcuterie is going to get –“
A deafening sound roars through the house and a violent, explosive tremor throws both men on the ground, shakes the walls and everything between them. The power’s out for a few seconds before there’s a flicker, and light fills the room again. Two backup generators, reads Jay’s description in the listing - an appeal to the prepper demographic, which trends higher in income than non-preppers. For a moment, the only things either are conscious of are the harsh flourescent lighting and the ringing in their ears. Time slows, everything seems muted and too bright. Robert rubs the side of his face, pulls back his hand and sees blood.
“Christ,” he chokes out. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know,” Jay breathes, looking at his hands, trying to determine if he’s got a concussion. The results are inconclusive – everything’s slow and fuzzy, but after a moment, he thinks it might just be shock.
“It sounded like a fucking 747 just nosedived on top of us.” 
“Yeah, Jesus.” Jay’s still staring at his fingers in a daze. “You okay?”
“I think so,” Robert grumbles. Jay gives him a cursory examination.
“Nothing that needs stitches,” he reports bluntly. Robert’s relieved. His face sells a lot of houses to a lot of lonely women and a few lonely men. There’s a muffled whine, which the two men soon recognize as a throng of sirens. Both of them try to calm the panic rising in their chests, to no avail.
“Whatever the fuck happened,” Jay says, trying to make light of the situation, “At least we’re in here. The bunker.”
Fear forms in the whites of Robert’s eyes.
“What if we’re stuck in here,” he whispers, afraid to speak such a thing into the world. The fear spreads to his companion.
“Try the elevator,” Jay urges, and Robert gets up, wobbles a little as his head sorts itself out, and leaves. A moment later, Jay hears him swear a blue streak, and from the kitchen window, sees him standing before the closed metal doors, staring at his feet. His pulse racing, Renault jogs out to see for himself.
“It’s dead,” Robert murmurs. 
“Whatever happened,” Jay says cautiously, rubbing the back of his still-sore neck, “It must have been pretty bad. Like, I don’t think we should go up yet. Besides, surely the office knows we’re still down here.”
“Right, right,” the younger man breathes, trying to reassure himself.
“Let’s just wait it out. I’m sure everything’s fine.” The way Jay says it does not make Robert feel any better. 
“Okay,” the younger man grumbles. “I’m getting a fucking drink, though.”
“Yeah, Jesus. That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.” Renault shoves his hands in his suit pocket to keep them from trembling.  
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1K notes · View notes
jungshookz · 3 years
Text
cream a little dream of me; knj
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➺ pairing; kim namjoon x reader
➺ genre; lveb!universe, you’ve been asking for this and i’m finally here to tell you that this is smut! nsfw! 18+! oral sex (receiving)! dirty talk! namjoon has a dirty mouth and y/n is into that!! y/n’s a great listener and namjoon is very into that!! also frosting is involved somewhere 
➺ wordcount: 8.9k
➺ summary; y/n has a wet dream about namjoon and yoongi just wants to help his best friend get laid. 
➺ what to expect; “it’s not a big deal or anything, but, uh... when were you planning on telling me about that nice little dream you had two weeks ago?”
➺ optional reading: here’s the link to la vie en bonsai if you haven’t read it yet or if you just want to experience the story all over again! 
                                      »»————- ☁️ ————-««
to say the least, yoongi is… confused.
in the three years that he’s been friends with you, he likes to think that he’s seen every single one of your emotions
but this?
this is different somehow… yet he can’t quite put his finger on what’s so different about it... 
he’s seen elated y/n
he’s seen devastated y/n
he’s seen infuriated y/n
he’s seen stressed out y/n
but this y/n?
the starry-eyed and constantly looking like you’re day dreaming y/n?
he can safely say he’s never seen this version of you before and it’s a little concerning because now he has no idea what the protocol is 
even back when you guys were in university you practically never daydreamed during lectures
you were always focused on the professor and whatever powerpoint was playing on the screen with a concerning amount of intensity 
one time, yoongi put his hand over your eyes just to be funny and you nearly snapped his wrist off
“okay, seriously?” yoongi waves his hand in front of your face for the fifth time in half an hour before shaking his head gently, “what’s gotten into you?”
you blink quickly when you snap out of your little daze, looking at him and setting the bowl of batter down on the counter before checking out the damage you’ve done
you’re supposed to fold this batter
not whIP it
now it’s ruined and you’re going to have to start all over!
“i don’t know what that batter ever did to you, but you might need to take it down a notch before you sprain your wrist…” yoongi trails off, leaning over a little and wondering if he can get away with dipping his finger in for a teeny tiny taste
sure, he might get salmonella or whatever from ingesting raw eggs, but it’ll be worth it 
“also, what are you even making?” he frowns, gesturing to all the items splayed on the counter, “because there are like ten different things going on here-”
you look around the kitchen before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck
you... don’t really have an answer for him 
there’s bread dough over here 
three bowls of frosting (chocolate, cream cheese, buttercream) over there
some chopped up peaches on the cutting board
the puff pastry is de-frosting in the fridge
there’s a pie baking in the oven at the moment
you just finished greasing up a mini cupcake tin
and don’t forget about the bowl of batter you’re currently whipping the life out of
(let the record show that you have no idea what you’re making. you have no clue what this batter is for. and why’d you take out your set of food-colouring dye??) 
you just needed to let off some steam and this is the only way you know hoW
“isn’t this great? working out in the comfort of my own personal gym…”
both you and yoongi look over towards the kitchen door when you hear jin’s voice ring through namjoon’s laptop from the living room
yoongi perks up in interest when you suddenly scurry over to spy at namjoon through the crack of the door before he gets up to follow you 
“yeah, easy for you to say-” namjoon grunts as he pushes himself up off the ground so he can clap his hands together quickly before his palms land back on the ground in a solid thump
he thought push-ups were already awful as is so he wasn’t very pleased when jin told him to start doing them with claps in between each set
also, jin has access to a full-blown gym in his house, but namjoon doesn’t have any access to actual weights so he’s had to resort to using jugs of water instead
it’s actually working out pretty well!
he took the sweeper part of the broom off and then used a lot of duct tape (and patience) to tape the jugs to both sides of the pole
he felt like he was mulan from that one part of the movie except mulan is probably physically stronger than him 
“you know, i’m surprised he hasn’t smashed his face against the floor yet...” yoongi snorts as he continues to peer at namjoon over your shoulder
he waits a couple seconds for you to respond but frowns when you let out a short little sigh while keeping your eyes glued on your sweaty boyfriend
...
see?!
you’re doing it again!!!!  
you have your bottom lip tucked in between your teeth and your eyes have gone all lidded and hazy
your grip around the edge of the door is really tight and your knuckles are going kind of white 
good god
yoongi narrows his eyes suspiciously before jabbing your shoulder roughly, “hey. what are you thinking about?”
you shake your head a little too quickly for his liking before turning back around and brushing past him to get back to the counter
huh
okay
something’s up for sure
he doesn’t know if it’s good or bad or whatever but he’s going to find out
your cheeks and the tips of your ears are a little flushed now which is even more interesting
what could possibly be going on in that little noggin of yours?
“tell me what you were thinking about.” yoongi sits back down on the stool as he stares you down across the counter, “y/n- look at me.”
“i’m not-” you glance up at yoongi for a quick second before looking back down, “nothing!” you mutter, your arm starting to move faster as you continue whipping the mystery batter 
yoongi immediately points to the ball of dough sitting a couple feet away from him, “tell me what you were thinking about or i’ll eat that ball of raw dough right noW-”
“-!” you set the bowl down before scrambling to move the dough out of yoongi’s reach
he’s eaten raw dough before (it was raw cookie dough and he took bites of it every time you turned to face away from him) which resulted in him suffering for like 48 hours and you’re not taking any chances
“you can’t keep secrets from me.” yoongi deadpans, “aren’t we best friends? don’t you trust me?” he bats his lashes at you before pushing his bottom lip out in a pout, “because i certainly trust you… and you, out of all people, should know how hard it is for me to trust someone…”
your eye twitches 
you know he’s only saying all of this to butter you up so that you’ll inevitably give in and tell him what’s going on... and you hate that it’s actually working... 
look at that face!
those cheeks!!!
those eyes!!!!
“i…” you trail off, biting the inside of your cheek as you contemplate whether it’s a good idea or not to tell yoongi what exactly’s been going on with you lately 
if you tell him, he’ll stop bugging you about it
then again, if you tell him, he might keep bugging you about it 
but he’s already suspicious of you so it seems like you don’t really have a choice...
this is really a lose-lose situation, if you think about it 
...damn. 
“hey, do you remember that time you were crying really hard and i made you feel better by telling you that i kind of sort of loved you...?” yoongi mentions casually while inspecting his nail beds, his eyes flickering up towards your face for a quick second to see your reaction 
he bites back a smirk of success when he hears you let out a sigh 
ha HA 
hook, line, and sinker bABY 
“okay, fine, but-” you slam the bowl down on the counter before placing your hands on your hips, ”it’s a secret. between us!” you gesture for him to come over to you
“god, finally-!” yoongi nods enthusiastically and hops off the stool before scurrying over to join you at the other side of the counter
you lift your hand up so the side of your mouth is covered and yoongi reaches up to wrap his fingers around your wrist, grinning excitedly as you whisper something into his ear 
yoongi’s jaw drops
holy shit
no wonder he hasn’t seen you act like this before! 
this isn’t elated y/n or disappointed y/n or excited y/n 
a new player has entered the ring
this is HORNY Y/N
“you… little… horndog!” yoongi cackles with glee as he claps his hands together wildly, “you, y/n y/l/n- you had a wet dream?!” 
you feel your anxiety spike at how loud yoongi’s being and you make a gesture to try to get him to use his inside voice but he doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to you at all right now 
“wow...” yoongi laughs lightly, crossing his arms as he looks up towards the ceiling, “i mean, welcome to puberty, i guess. a bit of a late start if you ask me, but either way i’m actually pretty proud of you for basically creaming your-”
“shh!” you quickly shove a spoon into yoongi’s mouth and he spits it out immediately
it falls onto the counter with a clang
to be honest, you actually don’t remember too much of the dream
flashes of namjoon’s head in between your legs and his strong arms wrapped around your thighs pinning you down pop into your mind every now and again to taunt you
but other than that
nothing!
it’s just that joon’s been working out a lot lately (jin’s trying to get in better shape because of one photo where the shadow made it look like he had a double chin and it traumatised him) so it makes sense that he’s turning into an actual beefcake now 
the other day you accidentally busted a bag of icing in your hands after squeezing it too hard because you were watching namjoon doing bicep curls with the milk jugs 
his arms just….,,. 
you want to bite into them
or dig your nails into them
or just look at them!
you would be perfectly content with just staring at them 24/7!
now, the issue here is that you...
you don’t really know…
you don’t know how to initiate things with namjoon
it’s awkward!
…on your end, that is
since getting together, you and namjoon have had plenty of heated make-out (and slight groping) sessions but you always end up chickening out as soon as you feel things starting to escalate 
you just get nervous that you’re going to do something wrong and it’ll pop the love-bubble you guys are in right now!! 
and you really don’t want to pop anything!! 
and namjoon, being the sweet, kind, caring, considerate, wonderful, absolutely flawless boy he is, never has an issue with it because his number one priority is making sure that you’re comfortable
he’s totally okay with moving at your pace! 
but after the last couple of times where you’ve left him high and dry, you notice that he either a) puts a pillow over his lap almost immediately and tries to change the subject or b) waddles off to the bathroom for a ‘pee break’
you feel awful knowing that you’re blue-balling him but you don’t want to take things further if there’s even a slight possibility of you ruining things 
so... yeah! 
your only stress reliever has been baking which isn’t new
you’ve stress baked before but this is a nEW type of stress baking
this is the most chaotic level of stress baking there is because everything’s just a disorganised MESS  
“you know what, it actually makes sense now,” yoongi reaches up to stroke his chin in thought before nodding to himself, “you’ve been acting so weird lately that i thought i did something wrong- and it turns out you’ve just been excruciatingly horny this entire time-”
“lower your voice!” you hiss, hurrying over to the door to make sure namjoon’s not listening in to what should be a private conversation if yoongi wasn’t so damn loud 
he may be in the living room but who knows how far your voices can travel??
you peek out to look at poor namjoon who looks like he’s just about ready to pass ouT from exhaustion
he lets out an almost animalistic growl as he pushes himself up off the ground one last time and you feel a tingle in your southern region
if you were a cartoon character there would be gigantic hearts pumping out of your eyes, your tongue would roll out of your mouth like a red carpet, and a horn would be blasting aooga in the background 
“okay, well - you can’t not tell me about what happened in it.” you turn back around to face yoongi, “give me all the details!!!!” he wiggles his brows as he leans down and folds him arms atop the counter, “and get real nasty with it because i haven’t had sex in months-” 
“no way!” you scoff before crossing one arm over the other to make an ‘x’ sign at yoongi, “no! i don’t remember anything.”
“you’re lying to me.” the smile on yoongi’s face drops and he scowls at you, “you totally are!”
“am not! it’s true.” you chirp, nodding satisfactorily when yoongi doesn’t respond
good 
the topic has been dropped and now you can focus your attention back on this weird, runny batter you’re still beating the life out of 
“...what about if i guess?”
you pause
oh
oh no
you don’t like that idea at all
you don’t get a chance to shake your head nO before yoongi starts listing out all your possible wet-dream scenarios
“he was finger-fucking you.”
“you were sucking him off?”
“he was eating you out!”
“69? you on top? or was it him on top? …no, it was probably you on to-”
“a classy combination of tongue and fingers? ooh, quick question- how quickly did dreamjoon find your g-spo-”
“missionary! can’t go wrong with good ol’ fashioned missio-”
“doggystyle? cowgirl! reverse cowgirl? or was he kind of, like, spooning you from behi-”
“ooh! plot twist! you gave him the strap-”
“butt-stuff! butt-stuff?? butt-stuff but the plug had a tail on- oh-ho, it was butt-stuff, wasn’t it-”
“something with a belt? something with cuffs? something with leather?”
“roleplaying! he was a sexy gardener with a big ol’ hose and you were just an innocent wittle twree-”
“was he rawdogging you?”
your eyes immediately widen and you look up at yoongi for the first time since he started rambling, “wha- WHAT is that?!”
rawdogging??
that sounds like it’d give you carpet burn for some reason 
“sex without a condom.” yoongi states as if it’s the most obvious fact in the entire world, “duh.”
god
boys are so
boyish!!!!
“why not just say that instead??” you ask incredulously, tilting your head
yoongi snorts, “well, because rawdogging sounds way hotter-”
your face screws up immediately, “does it really, though…?”
yoongi pauses before his face lights up, “aha! so dreamjoon WAS rawdogging y-”
“crude!” your entire face is bright red at this point and you hurry over to the fridge to grab a bag of frozen blueberries out of the freezer (for what purposes? you have no idea.)
“you think i’m being crude?” yoongi scoffs, “i think you’re being a prude. okay, lemme see what else i can think of-”
“yoongi, literally no one asked you to list-” 
“were you grinding on his-” yoongi pauses again, “you know, like dry humping?” he hums before pushing himself up off the counter and placing both his palms flat on the surface of it, “i mean, i guess i can see why that’d be hot, you know, with clothes being restrictive and all- oh! were you getting off on his thigh? because a couple of girls have done that to me before and it was actually pretty hot AND since namjoon’s dna consists of 80% plant he basically has tree trunk thighs-”
“okay, i don’t remember too much-” you grab yoongi by the arm to yank him back in so you can whisper in his ear again
yoongi listens attentively 
you clear your throat before shoving yoongi away to make it seem less suspicious if namjoon just so happens to come into the kitchen at this very moment 
“surprisingly simple, but it does the trick, that’s for sure…” yoongi hums as he strokes his chin thoughtfully, “damn. i hyped it up way too much. that’s actually a pretty boring dream compared to what i’ve dreamt about, now that i think about it-”
you can’t help but roll your eyes as you open up the bag of blueberries
…what did you pull these out for again?
“well, what’s the problem?” yoongi frowns, “you guys are already dating. just go up to him and ask him if he wants to do stuff. if a girl told me that she creamed her panties because of me, i’d be ecstatic!”
“stop saying it like that-”
you feel a little weird talking about this with yoongi
he’s always been comfortable telling you about his sex life but you prefer to keep your intimate details private
it’s not that you don’t trust him or anything, because obviously you do, but… you’d feel more comfortable if you talked about this with a girl-friend, you know?
guys just don’t understand! 
“i don’t know how to…” you shift in your spot, “ask.”
yoongi scoffs in response and crosses his arms, “y/n- namjoon is a man. men are simple. do you remember the other week when you invited me over for a breakfast and you dropped the spatula on the floor?”
you nod before tilting your head curiously, “…why?”
yoongi clears his throat
now he’S the one who looks slightly uncomfortable
“well...” he clears his throat, “namjoon was wearing sweats and i swear i wasn’t purposely looking- my eyes just happened to be looking downwards in that general direction naturally-”
“yoongi-”
“the man’s dick twitched in his sweats when you bent over, alright?” yoongi blurts out and your eyes immediately widen, “my point is: men are simple- painfully simple creatures. so... just ask him!”
you frown
just ask him??
was he even listening to you??
you just told yoongi you didn’t know how to ask namjoon and his advice was for you to ask namjoon
that’s like taking someone who doesn’t know how to swim and immediately tossing them into the OCEAN with a punctured life-ring
“god,” you roll your eyes before flicking your wrist at him, “just forget i told you!”
“hey!” yoongi gawks and shakes his head, “i can’t forget! now my only purpose in life is to get you some head-”
“jesus christ-!”
you jump ten feet into the air like a cat that’s just been sprayed by water when the kitchen door suddenly swings open and a sweaty namjoon stumbles in
“i think there’s sweat dripping into my contacts-”
“namjoon!” yoongi spins around in his stool and props his elbows up on the counter, “what a coincidence! we were just talking about you, my man…”
yoongi looks over at you with a cheeky grin and you shake your head stiffly before turning to get the jug of water from the fridge for namjoon 
“oh yeah?” namjoon huffs as he places his hands on your hips from behind, sliding past you to grab a clean glass from the dish rack, “what about?”
“just about how…” yoongi looks back at you quickly and you shoot him a glare
he wouldn’t… 
would he??
(he absolutely would.)
any word of your conversation and you’ll skin him alive
“-hard you’ve been working out lately!” yoongi chirps, “i mean, it looks like you were trapped in a washing machine-”
“oh, god. trust me, it’s so not worth it, i’m in so much pain-” namjoon winces and shakes his head, “you’re welcome to go and take my place if you want-”
“absolutely not-” yoongi snorts, “first of all, it’s the holidays, and everyone knows you don’t work out during december. also, you couldn’t pay me a million dollars to do a push-up. i’m perfectly happy with my somewhat doughy centre.” he pats his tummy with a happy hum and you can’t help but giggle
silly boy
namjoon laughs lightly before pausing to chug down some water, “i wish i could say the same. unfortunately, jin’s not giving me a choice-”
“sweaty!” you whine when namjoon suddenly wraps an arm around you from behind before kissing your cheek and he frowns playfully when you swat at his forearm, “and sticky…”  
“relax, i’m about to hit the shower-” he nudges his nose against your cheek before pulling away, “and then i won’t be sticky and i’ll smell like peaches-”
“i should probably go, too.” yoongi gets up from his seat, “i just ordered my dinner and it’s going to arrive at my apartment in like half an hour.”
“wait!” you hold a finger out before turning to open up the cupboards for a tupperware box, “take some pie with you…”
                                     »»————- ☁️ ————-««
“still coming friday?” you ask as you watch yoongi put his shoes on
you asked yoongi if he would be interested in helping you decorate the apartment on friday (aka you told him he didn’t have a choice and that he had to come and help you whether he wanted to or not)
“mhm.” he glances up at you, “still ordering pizza?”
“mhm.”
you reach down to pat the top of yoongi’s head gently just because you want to and pauses in the middle of tying his laces to reach over and jab your stomach
“i know the main focus is decorating the place for christmas but i think you guys are going to love the nature documentary i picked for us to watch while-” namjoon chimes in but shuts up quickly when you and yoongi exchange knowing glances, “what?”
yoongi looks back up at you with a raised brow, “…does he really have to join us?”
“no choice.” you shrug casually and namjoon’s jaw drops
wha-
“oh, hold on-” yoongi gets up off the ground before patting his pockets down with a frown, “i think i left my keys in the kitchen… can you go and get them for me?”
you nod before turning to hurry to the kitchen
you don’t want him to get another parking ticket
it’s only after you disappear into the kitchen that yoongi swiftly pulls his keys out of his back pocket with a jingle
namjoon opens his mouth to say something but yoongi quickly holds his hand out to shut him up
“야 남준아- 어제 니 여친이 니 꿈 꿨데~ (y/n had a sex dream about you).” he chirps and gives namjoon two firm pats on his surprisingly firm chest before his eyes widen in surprise, “어우 딴딴해 운동 열심히 했나보네! (woah, you really have been working out! good man.)”
“yeah, i-” namjoon chokes, “wait, wha-”
“y/n, i found my keys! my bad!” yoongi calls out and gives you a thumbs up when you come out of the kitchen, “see you losers on friday!”
he gives namjoon a grin and a light punch to the arm before swiftly turning on his heel
namjoon’s eyes are as wide as saucers as yoongi shuts the front door behind him and he blinks rapidly before turning to look at you
you tilt your head at him curiously and namjoon swallows before offering you a sheepish smile
oh, boy.
                                     »»————- ☁️ ————-««
namjoon hasn’t been able to think straight since it was revealed to him that you had a sex dream about him.
it’s been an entire week that he’s learned this new piece of information and it’s been weighing verY heavily on his mind!!
when he wakes up his first thought is gee i wonder what y/n dreamt about
when seokjin’s rambling about god knows what the only thing in his mind is gee i wonder what y/n dreamt about
the last thing he thinks about before he goes to bed is gee i wonder what y/n dreamt about
and then his imagination conjures up what could’ve happened in your sex dream which is very dangerous because he has an overly-active imagination 
it sucks that he doesn’t even know the details of the dream because stinky yoongi ziPPed off before he got a chance to squeeze the truth out of him!!!
and he hasn’t mustered up the courage to ask you about it because… how is he even supposed to ask you about it in a casual, non-confrontational way?!
he doesn’t want to embarrass you or anything like that!!
the only reason why he’s only slightly nervous about the whole situation because he doesn’t think he… oozes sex appeal?
so it was more than surprising to find out that you had a naughty dream about him
he’s like 90% leg and 10% dimple for crying out loud
and it’s not like he hasn’t done anything before, because he has, but it’s just different because it’s… you.
you’re his girlfriend and if he flubs this up the first time around then it’d be even more embarrassing than if you were just some random girl!
“말해줘여어 (you have to tell me).” namjoon whips around from where he’s standing by the tree, cradling the box of baubles to his chest, “you have to!”
“싫어 (nah).” yoongi shakes his head, tossing a kernel of popcorn into his mouth only for it to bounce off his cheek and onto the couch
he purses his lips before kicking it under the coffee table
it’s fine
the dust bunnies will get rid of it 
“말해줘여어! (you have to tell me!)”
“야 안돼 (no way).”  
namjoon clenches his jaw and sets the box down onto the floor promptly before balling his hands into fists and setting them on his hips, puffing his chest out
...
“아 왜여어어어~ (why not??)” he whines, deflating and resisting the urge to stamp his foot and throw an actual tantrum
“아니 비밀이라고 했으니까 그렇지! (it’s not my thing to tell! and i can’t betray y/n like that-)” yoongi shrugs as he keeps his eyes glued on the screen, “by the way, you didn’t even choose a cool nature documentary. what are we even watching?? the guy’s been talking about seaweed for the past ten minutes-”
“what do you mean it’s not your thing to tell??” namjoon scoffs, not even paying attention to the fact that yoongi just insulted his favourite nature documentary about plants in the ocean, “형이 먼저 말 꺼냈잖아! (you were the one who told me that she dreamt about me in the first place-!)” he snaps
“잠깐만 (wait, wait-)” yoongi sits up quickly, a couple kernels of popcorn rolling off his chest and falling onto his lap, “일주일이 지났는데 아무것도 안 했단 말이야?? (are you telling me that you… it’s been a whole week and you haven’t done anything about it??)”
namjoon shrinks down before reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, “노 코멘트 (…no comment.)”
“킄 정말로? (really? wow.)” yoongi snorts before shaking his head and leaning back against the couch, “both of you- i mean, both of you deserve each other, seriously-”
namjoon resists the urge to flop down on the couch dramatically, “아니 뭐라고 말하는 거예요 (well, i’m sorry, what am i even supposed to say-)”
“아우 그러지좀마 걍- (you don’t have to say anything, all you have to do is-)”
“yoongi!” namjoon and yoongi look over when you stick your head out around the kitchen door, “cream cheese or vanilla?”
“vanilla, duh.” yoongi raises a brow
you should know by this point that he prefers vanilla frosting over cream cheese!
halfway through the documentary you decided that you were going to make a carrot cake
(and yes, part of the reason why you made that decision was because you were bored of the documentary and wanted to do literally anything else, but you’ll never admit that to namjoon in case it breaks his heart)
namjoon stays quiet until after you disappear into the kitchen again and then he turns to face yoongi with both of his hands clasped together, “말해줘요오! (you have to tell me, c’mon!)”
“말해주면 제발 다른 거 보면 안 될까? (if i tell you, can we watch something else?)”
namjoon scowls
“아 됐어요 도와줄 거라도 있는지 확인 해볼게요- (fine, forget it. i’m gonna go see if y/n needs any help.)” he steps over the boxes of decorations on the ground before turning to look back at yoongi, “부엌에서 필요한 거 있어요? (you need anything?)”
“아니 (nah.)” yoongi responds before shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth, “oh! actually, see if y/n would be willing to make little carrot cupcakes instead of a whole carrot cake. holding a tiny little cupcake in my hand makes me feel like a giant.”
                                     »»————- ☁️ ————-««
“knock, knock…” namjoon knocks on the kitchen door quietly before pushing it open, “everything going okay in here?”  
he smiles when you look up from the bowl and beam at him, “hi!”
“hi-” he comes in and shuts the door behind him, “you need any help?”
“help? from you?” you giggle lightly and shake your head, “i’m good.”
ever since he accidentally poured salt into your batter that one time he hasn’t been allowed to help you
:-//
“yoongi changed his mind, by the way.” namjoon gestures back to the direction of the living room, “king min would like cupcakes now.” 
your shoulders immediately droop and you gesture to the already greased cake-pans sitting on the side
what a waste! 
“hey, don’t shoot the messenger!” namjoon raises both his hands in defence before shrugging, “the man wants what he wants.”
you resist the urge to go out there just to throw the cake pans at yoongi
you’re definitely going to force him to wash everything for you later 
“also... you’re just doing this to get out of watching the nature doc, aren’t you?” namjoon wraps both his arms around you from behind and leans down to prop his chin up on your shoulder
you could’ve helped with the decorating, but somehow everything looks better when namjoon does it 
he hung a big red bow on your front door and it looks great! 
you pause in the middle of shredding carrots before letting out a nervous chuckle, “whaaat? no...”
“it’s about the types of plants in the ocean!” namjoon points out, “is that not cool?? plants are cool.”
you shake your head no almost immediately 
not cool
two and a half hours of someone talking about grass that lives in salty water?
not cool at aLL
“how’s the decorating going?” you ask, giggling lightly when namjoon nudges his nose under your jaw before planting a kiss against your neck
“it’s going fine… yoongi isn’t helping, obviously. i handed him one bauble to hang and he hooked it on the collar of his hoodie and told me he’d do it later.”
“mm.”
a brief moment passes where the only sound that can be heard is the carrot you’re shredding against the grater
namjoon purses his lips as he thinks about what yoongi just said to him 
...
ah
fuck it
“hey, can i ask you something?” namjoon sighs, smiling in delight when you suddenly turn your head to press a sweet little kiss into his cheek
“mhm!” you turn back, continuing to grate away
“it’s not a big deal or anything, but, uh... when were you planning on telling me about that nice little dream you had two weeks ago?” namjoon asks cockily, biting back a grin when he feels you freeze in his arms 
it’s at this moment that the fact that you had a wet dream about him has finally sunk into the depths of his brain and now he’s actually feeling... really good about it 
you had a sex dream about him
what’s not to love?  
he can almost hear the alarms wailing in your head
and now that he’s got the ball rolling- he’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be!
as a matter of fact... this could be fun.
“w-” you clear your throat quietly and the half-shredded carrot drops into the metal bowl with a muted plunk, “i- what dream? i didn’t have a dream about you.”
he knows you’re trying to play it cool but he can see how tightly you’re gripping the grater and he can feel your ears getting hotter against his cheek 
“i never said the dream was about me.”
oh, shit
you messed up
“so...?” namjoon moves your hair to the other side before leaning in to plant a warm kiss under your jaw, “this dream that you had… about me. tell me what happened in it.”
you swallow thickly, the gears working overtime in your brain as you try to come up with some kind of an excuse to get yourself out of this situation
you know that now isn’t the most appropriate moment to be thinking about this but you’re 100% going to slaughter yoongi the moment you get a chance to 
the secret ingredient to make these cupcakes taste good will not be love
it will be BLEACH 
you can’t believe he ratted you out like that!!
how embarrassing!!
“you were-” you cough, “um, you were… you… we…”
oh boy
this is already a train wreck
this is exactly why you didn’t want to tell namjoon about it!
because you know yourself and you knEW you were going to get all flustered and twitchy bringing it up
“well, i was-” you pause, “i was sitting on- sitting on the counter-”
“this one right here?” namjoon’s hand leaves your waist to pat the surface of the counter lightly and you nod gingerly, staring down at his obscenely pretty fingers, “what else?”
“that was it.” you blurt out, “the end!”
namjoon steps back a little and spins you around quickly before pressing you up against the counter, “what else, y/n?”
he traps you in between his arms and you fight the urge to explode into a million bits 
oh god
okay
just tell him!
just SAY it
it’s time to get it over with!!
“you were…” your eyes flicker downwards and your nose scrunches slightly
you really don’t want to say it but you don’t think you can back out at this point because you’ve already said too much 
“…eating me out.” you force out before averting your gaze and looking off to the side  
you really wish there was a better way to say that because the phrase eating me out just sounds so… in your face, you know?
namjoon swallows thickly
so you had a dream about him eating you out?
“y/n, there’s really nothing to be embarrassed about, i promise-” namjoon laughs lightly when he notices your entire face starting to go red
you let out a particularly pathetic whine before leaning your forehead against his chest and gently shoving at his (firm) abdomen
“what’s the problem?” he asks, rubbing comforting circles into your back, “i think about you, you know.”
“you’re just saying that…” you mumble, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “you’re lying...” 
“no, i’m serious!” namjoon pulls away to look at you, “i… i think about you. i think about things.”
you blink twice 
he thinks about you
he thinks about things 
he thinks about you?
he thinks about things?? 
…what kind of things does he think about?
“y-you do?” 
“of course i do.”
“oh.”
a moment of silence ticks by 
“i think about a lot of things, y/n.”
“like what?” you look up at him, the corner of namjoon’s pretty mouth curling upwards
“you really wanna know?”
“yes.” you respond a little too quickly before clearing your throat quietly, “…please.”
“hm.” he smiles, “as polite as always-” 
you gasp in surprise when namjoon suddenly lifts you up and plops you down on the countertop in one swift movement and your stomach flutters at how effortlessly he just did that
wowie
he places both hands flat on the surface on either side of you before looking up at you with his head tilted slightly
you keep your hands folded in your lap, nervously picking at the worn edges of the sweatshirt you’re wearing (it’s namjoon’s coffee-coloured sweatshirt that you ‘borrowed’ from him) 
“mostly about fucking you into the headboard.” namjoon confesses, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth when he notices the way your eyes flicker
oh
you definitely seemed to like that idea
“i think about your fingers pulling at my hair when i have my face in between your legs...” he hums, trailing a finger up from your kneecap to your thigh, “i think about how pretty you’d look bent over the counter for me. i think about the sounds you’d make, how soft your moans and gasps would be… i especially like thinking about you moaning my name. i think about you riding me wearing nothing but that cute little apron of yours - you know, the one with the little honeybees on them?”
“apron’s in the.. in the washing machine.” your breathing’s become a bit more shallow and you haven’t blinked in nearly a minute so it’s safe to say that he has your attention
“you know… i think you know what you do to me when you walk around wearing nothing but one of my sweatshirts and a pair of panties, or when you come out of the shower wrapped in a little towel because you ‘forgot’ your clothes in the bedroom…” namjoon murmurs lowly, “and don’t think i don’t notice the way you look at me whenever you suck frosting off your fingers.”
“frosting?” you whisper, namjoon nodding as his eyes flicker down to your lips briefly
your tongue pokes out to swipe over your bottom lip for a split second 
“that’s right.” the metal bowl scrapes against the counter as namjoon drags it over and you jump in surprise at the feeling of the chilled metal bumping up against your bare thigh
“you think you’re so innocent, don’t you?” namjoon chuckles lowly, lifting the spatula up before swiping some frosting off of it with the side of his thumb, “you think i don’t know what you’re up to?”
“i don’t…” you trail off, going cross-eyed when namjoon’s hand comes closer only for his pointer finger to tap at your bottom lip
“you do. open.”
you’re just a little thrown off because namjoon’s never... you’ve never seen him like this before
he’s never spoken to you like this before
he’s never looked at you like this before 
you’re certainly not complaining, of course 
“you taunt me because you like to-” you can’t seem to break away from namjoon’s gaze, the side of his pointer finger hooking underneath your chin as he pushes his thumb into your mouth, “i know you do it on purpose.”
almost immediately, the taste of sweet vanilla frosting washes over your palette
“you want me to think about you, don’t you?” namjoon swallows a groan when you start sucking, your cheeks hollowing slightly as your tongue swirls around his thumb to make sure no frosting gets left behind, “you like the thought of that? like leaving me high and dry because it forces me to use my own imagination?”
(admittedly, yes. a little part of you likes the thought of you completely consuming every corner of namjoon’s mind... just a little part, though.)
you nod slowly in response with glazed over eyes and namjoon clenches his jaw 
fuck
he flattens his thumb down on your tongue to get you to open your mouth a little more for him and hums contently when you do so obediently
a thin line of spit stretches from your tongue to namjoon’s slick thumb as he pulls his hand away and you don’t even get a chance to register whatever that moment was before he’s leaning forward to slant his mouth over yours
namjoon kisses you purposefully, pulling you closer to him as you fist at his shirt tightly 
he savours the faint sweetness of the frosting left behind on your tongue and can’t help but smile when he hears you whimper
“can i tell you something?” namjoon pulls away only to start sponging kisses to your neck and you tilt your head to the side for him
“uh-huh, y-yeah-” you nod quickly, slinging an arm around his neck to keep him close while the other hand grips at his shoulder
your eyes roll to the back of your head for a split second and you can’t help but quietly mouth an ‘oh my god’ to yourself because you never knew it could feel this good to have your neck kissed
“i think it’s hot as fuck that you had a wet dream about me,” namjoon groans lowly and you immediately feel a zing! of electricity travel straight down south from the sound of him speaking to you in such a deep, gravelly voice, “and you definitely don’t have to be shy about asking me to touch you… because i’m very willing to do so.”
“i want you to- w-want you to touch me-” you stutter, feeling your cheeks warm from hearing those words come out of your mouth, “want it so bad-”
your eyes pop open when namjoon suddenly pulls away and you frown, instantly missing the feeling of him being pressed up so tightly against you
“lift your hips-” namjoon pushes the bowl of frosting to the side before tapping two fingers on your upper thigh, “-up off the counter.”
?
your brows knit together in confusion
why would you-
your eyes widen in realisation when it dawns on you what exactly is happening here
“w-what-” you glance at the (for the most part, closed) kitchen door frantically before looking down at joon, “but yoongi’s in the-” you turn back and jump in surprise when you see that namjoon’s face is right in front of yours
you’re practically nose to nose with him
“i know.” namjoon leans in to give you a quick peck before pulling away with a particularly smug grin, “so you’re just going to have to stay quiet for me then, aren’t you?”
you WHAT
“why don’t we get these off, hm?” namjoon hooks a finger into the waistband of your shorts and gives it a gentle tug
you look at the door once again and then back at namjoon, who offers you an innocent little smile as if he didn’t just suggest going down on you on the kitchen counter with your friend in the room next door
okay
think about this!
think about this with your logical brain and not your bonk horny brain
would you rather see your very hot boyfriend’s face in between your legs or would you rather send him away so you can continue making a cake for your very picky friend?
you plant both palms on the counter before raising your hips a little, namjoon grinning in victory before yanking your shorts down in one go
if you would’ve known this was going to happen today you definitely would’ve worn a sexier pair of panties
white cotton is boring!!!
also you know this is the wrong time to be thinking this but you’re wondering if it would be possible to rope yoongi into a shopping spree at victoria’s secret next week because you’re going to need better looking panties if namjoon’s going to keep springing these spontaneous sessions on you
“cute.” namjoon hums, poking at the little blue bow that sits at the centre of the waistband
your breathing stills as he slowly lowers himself to his knees in front of you and you feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest at the sight alone 
“soaked right through…” namjoon observes quietly, turning his head to press a kiss to the pillowy flesh of your inner thigh, “i’ve barely touched you, baby.”
you jolt in surprise when he runs his thumb slowly up your slit through the thinned fabric of your panties, though he stops right as he’s about to reach your clit
so close yet so, so painfully far
you nudge him with your foot, “you’re teasing.” you swallow thickly, namjoon offering you a boyish grin as he tilts his head, pushing his bottom lip out in a mocking pout
“aw… am i?” he coos, and you shiver when he leans in to press a kiss over your clothed clit, “i’m sorry, darling… that must be so hard for you…”
“and you’re being mean.” you murmur, namjoon chuckling to himself as he pulls your panties down your legs
“am not.”
“are too.”
“am not.” namjoon perks a brow, pushing your thighs apart gently, “take it back.”
“no wa-!” your back immediately straightens as if a jolt of electricity just shot straight up your spine at the first feeling of namjoon licking one long stripe up your centre, and you fight back the urge to snap your legs shut
that’s.,., new!
very new
very new feeling
you’re certainly not against it and it’s not a bad feeling 
it’s just…
new
“good?” your breath wavers when namjoon hums against you, your eyelids fluttering shut at the feeling of his tongue slowly pressing in deep, “hm?”
namjoon slips his tongue in between your folds before sliding it flat and straight up to your swollen clit, grinning to himself when you finally give in to pleasure and lie back on the counter
you whimper, rolling your hips down towards his mouth as he drags his tongue over your slit in repetitive strokes before flicking his tongue over the top of your clit
it’s too much and not enough at the same time, your legs instinctively starting to squeeze shut around him
“nuh-uh, baby…” you find that you can barely move, namjoon’s fingers digging into your thigh as a warning as he keeps your legs open, “keep them spread for me.”
namjoon watches your reaction intensely, finding pleasure in the way that your chest rises and falls quickly and in the way you twitch every now and again
from here, he can see the way your brows furrow and the way you bite and tug at your bottom lip in a poor effort to keep yourself quiet 
“you can use your words like a good girl, can’t you?” namjoon teases, two fingers rolling tight little circles into your clit as he watches you, barely blinking, “tell me how good it feels…”
“good- ungh, feels good-” you whimper, hips bucking up against his fingers desperately
namjoon looks down to see you practically dripping onto the counter
jesus 
he would’ve done this a lot sooner had he known you’d be acting like this from his touch 
“fuck me,” namjoon groans suddenly, and all of a sudden it seems like everything’s moving ten times faster than before, “you look so fucking hot right now-”, he wraps his strong arms underneath both your thighs before yanking you closer to him, practically burying his entire face in between your legs
your right leg gets hitched up over his shoulder and you quickly sit back up, digging your fingers into the soft strands of namjoon’s hair as his tongue laves back and forth against your folds
your back arches and you tilt your head up towards the ceiling, namjoon instinctively pushing his clothed crotch against the bottom part of the counter for some kind of relief 
he’s so painfully hard from just hearing you hold back moans and watching you squirm and twitch 
you remind yourself to loosen your grip on namjoon’s hair because you’re worried that you might accidentally rip some strands out and leave him with a bald patch, but namjoon obviously doesn’t seem to mind as he doubles his efforts and starts to lick and and suck with tremendous fervour 
“fuck, you taste good-” he curses, his right hand sliding underneath your sweatshirt to cup your bare breast before he pinches and rolls your nipple in between his fingers
he drags his tongue down to circle around your tight hole and you jerk immediately, “oh my god-” you pant, overwhelmed by all the different feelings your body is experiencing at this moment, “that feels so-”
your bum is teetering on the edge of the counter at this point because namjoon’s basically pulled you off of it and you reach down to grip at the edges so you don’t fall off 
“gonna cum?” namjoon murmurs, eyes locking on your face almost immediately as he feels you starting to squirm underneath him 
he really wants to watch you cum
“j-joonie, god, don’t stop-” the arm wrapped around your waist tightens around you and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues his torturous onslaught of pleasure, “i-i- nngh- namjoon-!”
“i’ve got you, baby… you can cum…” namjoon feels himself twitch in his sweats upon hearing you moan his name like that 
the thought of gagging you with your own panties to mute your moans briefly flits through his mind but... he wants to hear you moaning his name over and over and over again 
he wants to make you scream for him
when it happens, you practically bite your bottom lip off trying not to cry out in ecstasy
namjoon has to hold your trembling thighs open to keep them from snapping his head right off
your hips buck lazily as you quiver around namjoon’s hot tongue, your body glistening in a sheen layer of sweat as you bask in the slow, rolling waves of ecstasy
you lie back down against the counter, chest heaving beneath your sweater as you stare dazedly up at the ceiling
oh, wow
you watch as the ceiling fan whirrs around and around and around
you feel like you’re not physically here right now 
like your soul left your body and you’re just floating in the air like a bunch of particles 
“-!” you twitch when namjoon carefully wipes you off with your panties before setting them onto the counter next to you 
you slowly prop yourself up onto your elbows so you can look at him, feeling your cheeks flush when you see that he’s looking right at you 
you’re not sure why you’ve gone all shy again as if his tongue wasn’t licking you out ten seconds ago 
“hi, pretty girl...” he smiles, his dimple popping up in his right cheek, “welcome back.” he jokes, rising to his feet while keeping your right leg propped up onto his shoulder
he turns to give your ankle a kiss before gently bringing your leg down and helping you sit up
“that was really something...” you wrap your arms loosely around his neck as he grasps your hips before leaning down to give you a sweet little kiss 
“oh yeah? did i live up to dreamjoon?” namjoon teases, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before pinching the apple of your cheek 
“you did a much better job than dreamjoon.” you hum, and it’s only then that you’re aware of the very prominent bulge pressing into your centre, “but i... i wanna make you feel good, too…” you murmur, namjoon biting back a groan when you nudge your bare centre against him, a darkened splotch now staining the front of his sweatpants  “and…” you lean upwards to whisper something into namjoon’s ear
...
...
holy shit
yes please
“yeah, shit, we can definitely do that-” namjoon hates to admit to how horny he is but he can’t help it when you go around saying stuff like that to him, “we-” he pauses suddenly, eyes going wide in panic, “oh, shit!” 
“wh- what??” you look around the kitchen frantically before grabbing the closest thing to you as a form of defence (a silicone whisk) 
“friggin’ yoongi-!” namjoon hisses in pain as he adjusts himself in his sweatpants, “i forgot about yoongi-”
okay
a little weird of him to be thinking about yoongi while he’s touching his- 
“oh my god, yoongi!” you hiss quietly, hopping off the counter with wobbly legs 
namjoon hands you your shorts and you quickly wiggle into them before pulling your sweatshirt down  
you completely forgot that yoongi was in the room right next to you guys and that last moan of yours wasn’t exactly quiet
and you know that yoongi might not have a lot of knowledge when it comes to baking, but you’re sure that he knows enough to know that practically screaming namjoon’s name out loud isn’t a key step in achieving a fluffy cake batter 
“we weren’t doing anything!” 
the two of you stumble out into the living room and you file through your brain to come up with some kind of a logical excuse as to why you’re hot and sweaty and why namjoon’s hiding his lower half behind a kitchen towel and how in the world those two facts are related to his precious carrot cake cupcakes
you pause when you notice that yoongi’s nowhere to be found 
?
the documentary’s still playing on the TV, the boxes of tinsel and baubles have been completely abandoned, and there’s nothing but a blue sticky note sitting on the couch 
taking a nap in my car. text me when you guys are done being horny. also - you’re welcome. 
christmas with cee 2020 masterlist
🎁what would you like from ceenta this year? 🎁
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ncssian · 3 years
Text
A Favor: Part Eighteen
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: a short update while i try to find my writing rhythm again :))
***
Nesta hasn’t danced in over ten years—yet her body still remembers how to move fluidly and create shapes as if she never stopped. Pole dancing is different, of course: most of it takes place in the air, and she doesn’t have the right muscles developed to support her weight that well. Damn, she should really ask Cassian for help if she wants to keep doing this.
Still, Emerie and Gwyn are gaping by the time Nesta lands on the floor after trying out a basic spin.
She cracks her neck. “What?” she says at their stares.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Emerie demands.
She shrugs indifferently. “Eight years of ballet. Push-up challenges with Cassian.”
The instructor, an overly energetic Australian woman, comes up just then and claps Nesta on the shoulder, making her jump. “That was beautiful,” she praises. “Really, you have the balance of a cat. What’s your name again?”
Nesta introduces herself obediently, and Gwyn and Emerie follow.
The instructor nods. “In that case, Nesta, you keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t worry about your upper body strength yet, it’ll come around with time. You, the redhead,” she addresses Gwyn.
Gwyn straightens.
“I’ve never seen someone with your height and grace at the same time,” the instructor says. Gwyn beams with pride. “Unfortunately,” she continues, “I’ve also never seen someone so prone to hurting themselves on the pole.” Gwyn hangs her head.
“And the pretty girl.” She turns to Emerie last, who looks like she already knows what she’s about to hear. “Well, we can’t all be naturals.” The instructor grins broadly. “Feel free to keep using the poles after class is over.” She nods to their group and moves on to some other students.
Emerie sticks her tongue out and groans. “My tights keep giving me wedgies on the pole.”
“This was your idea,” Nesta reminds her as she reaches for her water bottle.
“Yet you’re the only one reaping the benefits,” Gwyn grumbles. “You never told us you had the body of a dancer and the balance of a gazelle.”
“Cat,” Emerie corrects.
“Guys,” Nesta says firmly. “This class is important for all of us. We won’t look this good,” she gestures to all their bodies, “forever. Gwyn is already pushing thirty.”
Gwyn’s jaw drops. “I’m turning twenty-seven, not getting menopause.”
“Same thing,” Emerie mutters. Gwyn shoves her hard and goes to pack her gym bag, leaving Emerie dramatically rubbing her shoulder. Nesta follows after Gwyn while the rest of the class begins gathering their things, too.
“How’re you feeling?” she mutters lowly as Gwyn packs. They haven’t brought up the conversation in Gwyn’s car since it took place, but Gwyn seems returned to her usual self now, if not even sunnier.
Gwyn’s lips twitch up as she glances sidelong at Nesta. “Perfect,” she says smoothly. “I can’t even remember what I was so upset about.”
Nesta is glad, even though she knows the nightmare isn’t gone. Knows that anytime from the next hour to the next year, it could reappear in full force and drag Gwyn down again. But hopefully it won’t hit as hard as it did before, now that Gwyn has her.
After class, they all pile up in Emerie’s car, a handed-down hunk of metal which Emerie insists on calling “vintage”. Gwyn sticks her head between the driver and passenger seat from the back and wrinkles her nose. “Get me home quick, it smells like a dead banana back here.”
“Oh, is that where I left it?” Emerie starts to turn around, but Nesta stops her with a hand on her shoulder. “I need a shower and a nap,” she pleads. “Let’s go.”
Emerie begrudgingly assents, sticking the key in the ignition and turning it. Nothing happens.
Frowning, she turns it again, but the engine doesn’t so much as choke. She slaps the dashboard like it’ll bring her car to life.
“Amazing,” Nesta mutters.
***
Cassian has imagined more times than he’d like to admit what it would be like when Nesta finally introduced him to her friends, but he never imagined this.
Three tired and hungry girls sit in his truck, alternating between arguing and laughing with each other. He can’t keep up with all of their personalities at once, so he just hones in on Nesta while he drives. Nesta, who Cassian has never seen so carefree or witty with people other than himself before. It both fascinates him and freaks him out, the realization that there’s so much to Nesta he doesn’t know yet. It gives him all the more excuse to spend the next several years getting to know her.
“Don’t tell me what to do with my car,” the dark-haired girl, Emerie, is snapping from the backseat. “Mr. Madani,” she abruptly says, sticking her head forward to look him in the face. Cassian nearly jumps. “Do you know how to change a car battery?”
Nesta shoves Emerie’s face back through the gap between seats from where she sits in the front. “You don’t need a battery change, you need a lifestyle change,” she says. “And don’t call my boyfriend by his last name, he’s not a middle-aged dad.”
Cassian bites back a laugh at that.
“Oh, but if I’m twenty-seven, I’m on the brink of menopause,” Gwyneth speaks up.
“Really?” Cassian says, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror for the first time all drive. “You’re the same age as me?”
He remembers what Nesta told him about Gwyn’s discomfort around men, so he tries to keep his tone casual, distant. If he scares Nesta’s friend away, he’ll never forgive himself.
Gwyn looks stunned to be directly addressed by him, seeming to lose all her sass. “Uh...my birthday’s in a few days,” she says, suddenly awkward.
“That’s right,” Emerie interjects eagerly. “We’re having a rager.”
“We’re having a sleepover,” Nesta corrects. She throws Cassian an exasperated look. “Drive faster, will you? I can’t share a car with these girls any longer.”
“Don’t be fucking rude.” Gwyn flicks a hair tie at Nesta, making her cry out.
Cassian does not understand this dynamic at all, so he shuts up and does as he’s told.
After Gwyn and Emerie have been safely dropped off, Cassian throws his keys into the bowl at the cabin entrance and tosses off his shoes. “I think I finally know what it’s like to be you,” he tells Nesta as they meet the warmth of the house.
“What do you mean?” She unzips her windbreaker, revealing the form-fitting athleticwear beneath. God, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to look at her since he picked her up.
He redirects his eyes to her face. “You know,” he says. “On the outside looking in. I feel drained.”
Her lips quirk up as she hangs up her jacket. “That scared of a couple of girls, huh?”
“They’re your friends. I don’t know what else I expected.” He follows Nesta deeper into the living room, kicking at the ground. “So…” he trails casually. “How was class?”
Nesta responds by rolling her eyes. “I was wondering how long you’d take to crack.”
“What do you mean?” he says, indignant.
“I mean…” She steps up to him and takes his hands, dragging them up her waist to settle on the bare skin beneath her black crop top. “You haven’t said a word about pole-dancing since I told you I was starting it. One would almost think it didn’t affect you at all, and yet,” she tilts her head, “I get the feeling you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Especially at night, when you’re alone.”
Cassian’s breath goes thin. She knows him too well.
“Cunning witch,” he breathes. Nesta’s smile is slow and winning, which he takes as invitation to slip his hands around her back and pull her in. Her chest is pressed flush against his.
She stares at his mouth, the place she always stares when her mind is five steps ahead of reality. Like she’s already imagining how he’ll take her. “Dreaming about a private performance, are you?”
“Hopefully not right now,” a low voice says from above them.
Nesta jumps, spinning around in Cassian’s arms, but Cassian just closes his eyes and sighs. He opens them to find Azriel sitting in the reading nook that overlooks the living room, various work reports scattered about him.
“Have you been there this whole time?” Nesta demands.
“Unfortunately,” Azriel says at the same time Cassian grumbles, “Of course he has.” Remaining unnoticed is all his brother is good for.
Nesta sighs and rubs her eyes, the mood effectively killed. “I need a break.”
Cassian considers going up to Az and pushing him over the second floor railing as Nesta wiggles out of his arms and heads for the stairs. “And a back massage,” she calls over her shoulder.
“I’ll be right there,” Cassian tells her. But he waits to hear their bedroom door click shut before he also goes upstairs, not towards Nesta but to the reading nook.
“Hey, bro?” He tries to sound lighthearted as he approaches Az. “Do you mind not cockblocking me in my own house?”
Az doesn’t look up from the report he’s reading, flipping a page. “It’s rude to be horny in public spaces.”
“My house is not a public space,” Cassian growls, struggling to keep his temper. “Before you moved in, it was a very, very private space.” For him and Nesta alone, he doesn’t add.
Azriel finally looks up, question in his eyes. “So what?” he says. “You want me to leave?”
Never, is the automatic assurance that nearly comes out of Cassian’s mouth. Of course he’d never want his brother gone, especially when he’s clearly going through… something. But he bites down on the word and takes a seat in the chair across from Az. “I want to know how long you’re planning on staying. For real. You can run from your problems as much as you want, but that doesn’t mean I can provide you with a hiding place forever.”
“Wow.” Azriel’s eyes widen in mock-disbelief and he clasps a hand to his chest. “So cold, brother. I think you caught some of your girlfriend’s iciness.”
Cassian narrows his eyes seriously at Az. “Or maybe I’m being the only adult here.” Cassian now has responsibilities to a person who isn’t part of his traditional inner circle. A person he can see himself making long-term plans with, a person he plans on keeping around. It changes the course of his future in a way that the rest of his family probably haven’t realized yet.
Though maybe Azriel does realize it, because he looks away and murmurs, “No need to rub it in.”
For the thousandth time that month, Cassian wonders what caused Azriel to run away from Velaris. It’s a secret Az refuses to share with even him.
“I’m trying,” Azriel says. His words are slow, unsure. “I’m trying to create space between me and that city, but I’m going to need more time. I can’t tell you how long it’ll take until I can go back. But if you can’t keep me here, I’ll find someplace else to stay.” He shrugs. “It’s not that hard.”
Cassian exhales, feeling sympathy twist deep in his chest for his best friend—and he doesn’t even know what the sympathy is for. “Then take your time,” he says sincerely. “Stay here forever if you want. We can Photoshop you into all our pictures. But don’t think I’m gonna make it easy on you,” he warns.
“You already don’t make it easy on me,” Az mutters. “I can hear you and Nesta fucking all the time.”
“First, don’t ever talk about Nesta and fucking in the same sentence ever again.”
Az blinks in surprise, likely remembering the way they would talk about their hookups before Nesta came into the picture. “Damn, she’s got you bad.”
“Second,” Cassian continues, “I will not hesitate to make you sleep outside if you get on my or Nesta’s nerves.”
“With that attitude, I’ll be out of here by next week,” Az snorts. He crosses his feet and picks up his report again, clearly done with this conversation.
Seeing no hope in rubbing the point in further, Cassian leaves Azriel to his work.
***
Nesta is stripped down to her underwear and getting ready to shower when she notices a missed call from Elain on her phone.
She hesitates at her sister’s name on the screen, wondering what could possibly have encouraged Elain to call while Nesta was at dance class. What happened to the times that Nesta could go weeks without a single person checking up on her?
Looking toward the bedroom door as if Cassian will come in and save her from having to call Elain back, she waits a solid minute before giving up.
Elain picks up on the first ring. “I’m surprised you called back,” she greets.
“I’m full of surprises these days.” Nesta settles onto the bed. “What did you want?” She doubts Elain called just for a check-in, not with the stagnant bitterness that’s been between them lately.
“To have a normal conversation with my sister for once.”
Nesta tries not to roll her eyes all the way back into her head, even though no one is around to see her. “Go on and have it then.”
“I heard from Rhys that Azriel moved into Cassian’s place,” Elain says in her honey-sweet voice. “I’ve been meaning to ask how that’s going for you.”
Nesta’s brow furrows at that voice, the one that Elain uses whenever she wants to give her best first impression—or wants to pry something out of someone. “It’s going fine,” she says flatly. “Az and I get along great.”
That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but…
“You’re calling him Az now?” Nesta can hear the way Elain tries to tamp down on her curiosity, but she’s never been as good at affecting apathy as Nesta is.
“Yeah,” she answers. “Why? Do you miss him?”
Elain nearly chokes over the line. “Why—why would you say that?”
“I thought you guys were friendly,” Nesta says, leaning back into the pillows. “Doesn’t everyone miss him back in Velaris?”
“Oh.” The relief in Elain’s voice is palpable, piquing Nesta’s curiosity. “Yeah, we miss him.” She clears her throat. “He left without telling anybody.”
Nesta fiddles with the band of her panties. “You don’t know why he left either?”
Elain is silent for several moments. “No.” Her answer is quiet, truthful. “I don’t know.” She adds, “Keep an eye on him, will you? I would do it myself, but I’ve been iced out.”
Nesta finds this very suspicious. She can’t bring herself to be interested enough to keep snooping, however, not as the door creaks open and Cassian enters the room. “Will do,” she promises Elain, and makes a quick goodbye. When she hangs up, Cassian asks, “Who was it?”
“Elain.” Nesta frowns at her phone. She wonders if someone like Cassian would be better at reading between the lines of the strange conversation she just had. Maybe he could put his finger on the mysterious relationship between her sister and his brother. But since there are no creeks nearby for Azriel to be shoved into, and it isn’t any of Nesta’s business either way, she decides to give him and Elain time to sort their own shit out.
“What did she want?”
Nesta refocuses on Cassian, who leans against the door appreciating her half-naked form stretched out before him. Without words, she holds her arms open.
He shoves off the door and approaches her on the bed, letting her envelop him into a hug. It isn’t the warmest or most comforting hug, and her arms are stiff as stone, but he melts into her either way. There’s a weariness in his broad shoulders that spikes concern in her.
When Cassian pulls away, she traps his face in her hands and scans it closely for answers. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks. “You fell asleep early during the last two movies we watched and you’re half-asleep now.”
“What are you talking about?” He throws his signature smile her way, but it lacks alertness. “Do I look like there’s anything wrong with me?”
“You tell me.” Nesta shifts so she can slide her hand over the smooth plane of his back, resting her palm on the warm spot between his shoulder blades. It’s her best imitation of a soothing gesture, and it makes Cassian’s lips quirk up lightly.
He hangs his head and sighs. “Is it possible to have growing pains at my age?”
Nesta is confused. “Like, physically?”
“No,” he says. “Just… growing up.”
“I don’t think we ever stop growing up,” she answers honestly. Maybe she’s biased because a part of her is still trapped in that childlike state, and she has more growing to do than most people. “I think it hurts a little every time we have to shift and become someone older. What’s hurting you now?”
Her hand slides up to the nape of Cassian’s neck, gently massaging the muscles there. His head droops even more under her touch. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that when I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he huffs. But he doesn’t look very inclined to argue.
Nesta squeezes the back of his neck. “I can be the stable one, too, you know. I can take care of you.” She should’ve defeated this misconception sooner.
“That’s not what I meant,” Cassian says, shaking his head. “I meant that I promised you a massage.”
Oh. She nearly forgot about that. “If you tell me what growing pains you’re having, I’ll let you join me in the shower,” she promises. “You can do whatever you want there.”
He looks up at that, dragging his gaze over her mostly-bare figure, and Nesta knows she’s won. “Tell me,” she demands one final time.
Cassian inspects her face, likely deciding how much he should reveal or not. “I’ve been thinking about the future,” he finally says. “It was never something I cared much about before, but now it keeps me up at night.”
Nesta is slow to realize—he’s talking about their future. “You really never thought about the future before?” she asks. At one point in time, Nesta had her life planned out to the age of forty. Her plans hadn’t included this, though.
Cassian shakes his head. “There was nothing for me to think about.”
She runs soothing fingers across his scalp, her heart rate unexpectedly picking up a beat. “And what do you think about now?”
Hazel eyes meet hers with wariness. “Stupid stuff,” he says. “Cars, taxes, insurance.”
At the look on her face, he pulls away from the hand that’s gone still on his neck. “Okay, let’s get you in the shower before I scare you away for good.”
Nesta feels herself being scooped into Cassian’s arms, but she doesn’t quite register it. It’s not until they’re in the bathroom that she remembers words. “I’m not scared,” she says from the cradle of his arms. “I was just surprised.”
Regaining her senses, she squirms until Cassian puts her down on the floor. She straightens. “I’ve never... pondered on the small things like that.”
Except they aren’t really small or stupid, are they? They’re big, inevitable facets of sharing a life with someone. She clears her throat. “The way we live now is already so nice. I guess I forgot things won’t be like this forever.”
Which isn’t the most assuring thing to say from the way Cassian’s face becomes carefully still. But in a blink he’s smiling again, his hands going to unclip her bra. “Don’t worry yourself with that shit,” he chuckles. “I was only dreaming.”
Guilt turns Nesta’s stomach into sludge. She made Cassian share what was weighing on him only for her to brush it off. She wants to talk through it with him until he’s giving her a real smile, but she doesn’t know where to start or what to say. So she lets her bra drop to the floor and steps close to wrap her arms around him.
His breath hitches against her ear, and one of his broad hands comes up to rest on her bare back. “Two hugs in one day?” he says, his amusement covering up some deeper emotion. “I’m either doing something right or doing something very wrong.”
“No. I’m just feeling appreciative.” Her hand returns to that space between his shoulder blades, the spot that seems to disarm him, and pats him there. She gives herself a solid moment to luxuriate in the warmth and size and hard strength of him before saying, “Get undressed, will you?”
One of his hands squeezes her butt. “You need to get off me first.”
She hums in agreement but doesn’t move—hoping he can feel everything she doesn’t know how to tell him.
***
a/n: i bought my eid dress and it’s so pretty yall 🥺
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forzalando · 3 years
Text
royally screwed | fw | pt. two
pairing: prince!fred x princess!reader word count: 2.4k warnings: cursing, mentions of meals/food, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers a/n: hello friends! happy valentine’s day!!💛the long awaited part two is here and i hope you all enjoy!😊bonus points if you catch the subtle hp references in this chapter hahaha thank you to @spacexcowgirl​ for beta reading, i love you dearly!! you can read part one here
summary: Prince Frederick Weasley of Burrow was a twin, but unfortunately, at least in his mind, he was born the eldest twin, meaning it was his duty to inherit the kingdom. Since the young age of ten, Fred knew that he was to marry Princess Y/N Y/L/N of Diagon, and over the years they’ve both come to dread the day. With the eve of their wedding closely approaching, their disdain for each other begins to worry their respective families. However, there is a very fine line between love and hate.
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Y/N awoke the next morning and immediately recounted the previous day’s events; she could feel the puffiness in her face and eyes from the tears shed after her Mother left her room. She had hoped that their conversation would go differently, but it was done and there was nothing left she could say regarding the matter.
A sharp knock on Y/N’s chamber door had her jumping up and crossing the room faster than her feet would carry her. She stumbled a bit, almost crashing into the door before pulling it open, only to see the most peculiar sight.
Frederick Weasley, with his siblings stood behind him, although George was standing rather close so that he could pinch his brother’s ear.
“Well,” Ginny goaded, “go on then, you arse.”
Fred turned swiftly to shoot his sister a glare, but George’s grip on his ear had him wincing in pain.
“You better get going or I swear I’ll rip it off,” George grumbled, struggling to hide the jesting smile creeping on his face.
“Fine, fine,” Fred huffed. “Princess Y/N, I would like to apologize for my behavior last night. It was entirely unacceptable and I hope that you can find it in your impossibly sma-”
Ginny quickly stomped on Fred’s foot, interrupting what Y/N was sure would be an insult.
“Pardon me, your impossibly large heart, to forgive me. I was also wondering if you would care to join me for breakfast in the drawing room.”
George promptly let go of Fred’s ear, but not without one final yank, and the entire clan of Weasley siblings looked at Y/N expectantly, awaiting her answer with fervor.
“You must be absolutely mad, Frederick Weasley,” she scoffed, folding her arms across her chest in defiance. “After your attitude last night, which you had for no reason, I might add, and you come knocking on my door to ask if I want to have breakfast with you? I don’t want to see your face unless I have to!”
“I’m trying, Y/N! You said that the least I could was try, so here I am, offering to spend time with you when I’d rather lick the floor in the foyer.”
“Well, then, feel free to go scrub the floors with your tongue because I will not join you for a meal today or any other day!”
Fred stalked away with no objections from his siblings, who were all laughing at Y/N’s quip. She had a satisfied smile on her face as well, but it quickly fell when she averted her gaze to the three other Weasley siblings.
“Now what exactly did you think that was going to accomplish?” Y/N spoke with a, mostly, playful glare to the three standing before her.
“Honestly, we were hoping a bit that you wouldn’t answer the door. Mum made us drag him down here,” George answered with a shrug of his shoulders.
“But, now that we are here,” Ginny said excitedly, “will you have breakfast with us?”
Y/N smiled softly; she could never say no to spending time with her only friends.
“Let me get dressed and I’ll meet you…where should I meet you?”
“The drawing room…” Ron mumbled, hoping Y/N wouldn’t recall that Fred wanted to take his breakfast there as well.
“You three are insufferable,” Y/N laughed, “however, I’ll be there in ten. Hopefully he will be gone by then.”
Y/N gently shut her door and quickly threw on a dress and her day slippers; her mother would absolutely have a fit if she saw the disheveled state she was in, but Y/N simply couldn’t care.
After a quick glance in the mirror, Y/N hurried through the castle corridors that she had come to know so well and made it to the drawing room in record time. To her delight, Frederick was nowhere to be seen.
“Good Morning, dear,” Queen Molly said warmly from her seat. “Have you by chance seen Fred this morning?”
Y/N heard the quiet snickering of Ron and George and then a hushed “shut it” that could only have come from Ginny.
“Oh, yes, Queen Molly, he stopped by my chambers to apologize. Very out of character for him, I wonder if someone slipped something into his morning tea.”
Molly Weasley hummed lightly, taking the slightly sarcastic tone of Y/N’s voice to mean that things hadn’t gone as she directed.
“That’s lovely, dear, maybe you’ll actually have a civil conversation in the gardens.”
Y/N set down her tea slowly, trying not to act shocked because she had no knowledge of a walk in the gardens.
“The gardens? I didn’t know anything about the gardens,” Y/N mused inquisitively.
“That’s where Fred is right now, I told him you’d be along in a few minutes. He even looked a bit excited,” Molly teased.
Y/N snorted inelegantly and immediately covered it with a cough; she rose from the table and looked pleadingly at George, hoping he could come up with some form of an excuse that would save her from time spent with Frederick, but George refused to look at her and continued eating his breakfast unbothered.
“I’ll go meet him now, Queen Molly. I’m sure he’s awfully busy so we can make this short,” Y/N said with a smile.
“Fred is free all day, I cleared his schedule, dear.”
“Brilliant,” she grimaced.
With a half-hearted wave, she left the drawing room and begrudgingly walked towards the gardens, smiling politely at each person she passed. Even if her future husband did not care for her, Y/N took comfort in knowing that his family and the people in the castle did; she hoped it would make the rest of her life tolerable.
All too soon, Y/N felt the sunshine on her face as she stepped into the magnificent palace gardens. She could spot Prince Frederick’s fiery hair a mile away; he was standing near the rose bushes twirling a yellow one between his long fingers.
The rustling of the grass between Y/N’s feet caused Fred to turn around to find the source of the noise.
He stalled a bit; even though he despised the Princess of Diagon, he could never deny that she was breathtakingly beautiful. Her hair was unkempt, a soft pink, cotton gown swished around her legs as she stalked toward him, and her face was set in a scowl but even the worst grimace could not distract from her captivating eyes.
It was entirely infuriating, and it made Fred want to hate her even more, but some intrinsic force wouldn’t allow him.
“What are you staring at?” Y/N asked, her eyebrow raising.
“Nothing,” Fred replied with a shake of his head. “I’m just thinking of all the ways I’d rather spend my morning.”
“Well, it seemed like you were staring at me. Do it again and I’ll push you into the rose bushes, I don’t care if you are the future King.”
Fred turned his head and tried not to crack a smile, but failed miserably as the corner of his mouth quirked up involuntarily.
“Let’s get this over with, Y/N, can your stubby legs keep up?”
“It’s not my fault you shot up like a bloody bean pole; you went from stumpy to looking like someone sewed tree limbs together and animated them.”
“Most women like tall men.”
“I like tall men, Frederick, I just don’t like you.”
A stunned silence fell over the two royals, only the sounds of the rustling leaves and nearby animals could be heard.
“I suppose that’s why you like Prince Cedric, then?”
“Beg your pardon?” Y/N’s eyes widened, confused at the sudden interrogation.
“Your conversation with your Mother last night, how you begged her to marry him instead. Or my brother. Or that horrid Malfoy.”
“You had no right – that was a private conversation. How dare you eavesdrop on my personal business? Every time I think you have a shred of decency you prove me wrong, Frederick Weasley.”
Fred stepped in front of the Princess, blocking her path and preventing her from walking on.
“Prove you wrong? I had come to your room to apologize when I heard you plotting with your Mother to run off with someone else and disrespect my family.”
“I would never disrespect your family. They’ve never been anything but good and kind to me, the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt them. I haven’t the slightest idea how you’re related to any of them.”
“Oh, I know, you have them all wrapped around your little finger,” Fred scoffed.
“I’m not going to stand here and fight with you, Frederick, I don’t have the energy. Can we please just keep moving and we can tell your Mother we had a wonderful time and learned so much about each other.”
Y/N stepped around Fred, lightly grabbing his wrist to pull him along through the endless rows of flowers.
“She’ll probably quiz us and you don’t even know my favorite color,” Fred griped.
“It’s purple, I think,” Y/N blurted. “I overheard you telling your Mum years ago that you wanted purple frosting on some dessert. I figured that meant it was your favorite.”
“And you remembered?”
“There aren’t a lot of things I forget about the people in my life, Frederick. If it’s important to you, I’ll remember.”
“But you don’t care about me, why did you even bother?”
Y/N sighed and shook her head before turning to look at Fred, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t hate you. I don’t particularly like you, maybe in a different life we’d actually be friends, but I don’t hate you. I don’t hate anyone.”
Fred realized this was the longest they’d gone without arguing in years, and it was barely one tenth of a conversation. He turned his head slightly to watch Y/N, taking in the way she gazed lovingly at the surrounding flora, and noticed her eyes linger a bit longer every so often.
“Yellow,” Fred mumbled.
“What was that?” Y/N asked.
“You look longer at the yellow flowers. Yellow is your favorite color.”
Y/N smiled softly, the same smile she’d given Fred when she had arrived the day before but it was infinitely more sincere.
“If you were like this all the time, you wouldn’t be so bad Frederick.”
“Who says I’m not?”
Y/N rolled her eyes and this time Fred could not contain himself; he laughed loudly, and the sound triggered a fluttering of sorts in the Princess’s chest. They continued their walk, chattering idly and the Prince even picked a blooming yellow rose and delicately handed it to his Princess.
“I really did want to apologize last night, you know,” Fred assured. “I didn’t have any reason to be so rude when you arrived, I guess it was just…habit. We have a way of getting under each other’s skin.”
“Apology accepted, for your rudeness yesterday, of course. But, you owe me another.”
“Another?”
“Yes, for eavesdropping on me and my Mother.”
“That conversation involved me, I hardly think it’s one I shouldn’t be aware of if you’re trying to finagle your way out of our betrothal.”
“It may involve you, but it was a private conversation.”
“That involved me.”
“My God, I’ve said it before but truly every time I think you can redeem yourself, you do or say something completely asinine. Do you have any manners?”
“You were talking about me, I felt I had a right to listen!”
Y/N groaned loudly in annoyance, drawing the attention of the nearby guards.
“I don’t even believe you wanted to apologize, you had the chance this morning and just insulted me like you always do! Every decent part of you is nothing but an act!”
“You don’t even know me,” Fred seethed.
“No, I don’t, but it’s because you won’t let me!”
“You’ve never even tried, don’t attempt to play me for a fool, Y/N.”
“Well, I’m trying now. I’m trying now and still all we can do is fight.”
The two stood toe to toe, breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes. After a few moments, Y/N looked away and sighed deeply. It sounded almost dejected, Fred realized, rather than the anger he had expected.
“Go ahead of me back to the castle, please, I’d like to actually enjoy the rest of the walk.”
“I don’t have to take orders from – ”
“You’ll do as I say, Frederick Weasley,” Y/N snapped.
Fred wanted to argue; God, did he want to argue with her until he was blue in the face, but something about the tone of her voice frightened him a bit. So, he scoffed and stalked back to the castle, swinging his fists by his sides and gritting his teeth.
He passed by his twin, giving George a half-hearted wave before entering the castle. It wasn’t hard to sense the tone of what had transpired, and George shook his head and took off running towards the gardens to find Y/N.
“Oi! What did he do this time?” George shouted as he slowed to a stop in front of Y/N.
“Just the usual. Acting like a pompous prick that can do no wrong. He was nice for two minutes and then refused to apologize for eavesdropping last night on a conversation between me and my Mother!”
George rolled his eyes and raked a hand down his face, massaging his temples in preparation for the headache that his brother always managed to give him.
“Y/N, you know he’s not malicious, he’s just an idiot sometimes,” George offered.
“I appreciate you defending him but at the moment it’s going in one ear and out the other, Georgie.”
He laughed and slung an arm around the Princess’s shoulders, joining her on the remainder of her walk through the gardens. He noticed Y/N twirling a yellow rose around and every so often lifting it to inhale its sweet scent.
“Stealing flowers from our gardens, eh?” George jested, bumping his hip into Y/N.
“Frederick picked it for me, actually,” she mumbled.
“Well, that’s sweet. You two can get along, is what I’m seeing and hearing.”
“It was a momentary lapse of judgment,” Y/N sighed, before throwing the perfect rose to the ground and ensuring her slipper crushed the delicate petals.
When they were good and flattened into the Earth, she swore she felt an ache in her chest.
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2jaeh · 3 years
Text
TEACH ME I  TEN LEE
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Genre: smut, mature themes
Warnings: corruption!kink
Stripper!Ten , Innocent!Reader
Word Count: 2,2k
Author SIN
What happens when the best dancer at your club offers you an offer of a lifetime, a lap dance, private and free off charge..
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“Table number 4” you heard the bartender call while your eyes were fixated on the crew setting up the stage in front of you. “Oh, yeah” you received the tray of drinks from him and sauntered over to a table in the far left corner.
You cleared your throat as you noticed the person who you were serving was your boss Miya, the owner of the club and a handsome young man dressed in a red leather suit. “Oh Ten! You dont know y/n right ? she's new here” Miya pulled out a chair for you to take a seat.
“H-hi” you nodded nervously as the red suited man's lips turned into a cat-like grin.
“This is Ten Lee” Miya introduced, “He used to work here a few years ago until he became famous” You watched as the man became bashful and shook his head, “I'm not famous, I'm just getting started.”
“Y-you were a waiter or-” your words were cut off by Ten’s laughter as he marvelled at your innocence. What was a girl like you doing in an all-male strip club ?
“Ten was our highest priced dancer, usually booked for the expensive bachelorette parties” Your boss explained as you mentally dissed yourself for even thinking he could've been a waiter.
You were extremely new to this world after all. One of your uni friends had you cover for her at this club not too long ago and the boss took a liking to you. She admired your patience with the drunk women who cried in the bathroom stalls and how you always worked hard even if the club barely had customers.
“Hey, I'll be with you in a bit Ten, I need to meet with the bridal party.” Your boss excused herself and jogged over to her office.
You sat in silence, your head down as you watched your fingers twirl in your lap. You knew he was staring at you. Ten scooted in the chair next to you and you heard him sip on his drink and exhale deeply,
“Ever had a lap dance y/n ?”
Ten sucked in his bottom lip and you felt your heartbeat race as he placed his arm on your chair, his eyes narrowed and his smile turned into a smirk,
“Babygirl you're so cute, do I intimidate you ?”
“I'm just a little awkward I guess” you tried to ignore the little pet name he had given you but it sent chills down your spine. Ten’s demeanor changed and his eyes seemed softer, he swiveled his body to face you and his bright smile shone in the dim lighting.
“I'm here for a special request, there's a rich bride who hired me and I'm going to be performing for her” Ten explained, you could see the excitement in his eyes like a kid in a candy store, “I want you to watch my performance”
“-but I’ll be working tonight-”
“No no, I’ll tell Miya to give you a chance to be part of the audience” Ten waved his hand and chugged his drink, “It’s not everyday I get a first time viewer, especially one thats as innocent as you”
“I have watched the shows before…” you swallowed as you noticed his eyes had darkened again.
“Yeah but you haven't watched me, now have you ?” Ten wet his bottom lip with his tongue and reached for your hand, “I’ll tell you what, if you enjoy it I’ll give you a private dance free of charge”
Your eyes widened at his offer. What does a star performer like him want to do with someone like you ?
“W-why ?” you managed to say,
“I dont know y/n you're just so goddamn cute it drives me crazy.”
The club lights finally turned on and it glimmered shades of pink and purple as the bridal party made themselves comfortable up front, already on their third round of drinks. You were amazed that women indulged in things like this much like men, but this atmosphere was better, more wholesome. It was one of the reasons you decided to take the job. You were quite awkward being open sexually, and everyday you learnt from the women who came in that it was nothing to be ashamed of.
“Okay ladies, now you know you're in for a treat” Miya said into a microphone as she walked onto the stage. The women went crazy, already pulling out stacks of cash from their designer bags and gathered around the stage in anticipation.
The lights dimmed and you nervously took a seat just behind the bridal party as requested by Ten and pursed your lips, not knowing what to expect.
A sultry beat filled the room, you could feel the bass under your feet as the women screamed their heads off when a few regular strippers gathered on stage in police uniforms. The men danced around, discarding various pieces of clothing but this was all too familiar to you. Nothing really stood out from other shows that you had seen until Ten appeared.
Ten emerged from the smoke, dressed in black leather pants and a matching jacket that showed off his bare chest adorned with a harness. He pushed back his hair as he slowly walked down the runway, the screams from the women obviously not being new to him. Ten got down to his knees as he looked over the bride-to-be, his eyes were mischievous as he slowly rid himself of his jacket and threw it into her lap. You watched intently as he ran his hand down his body, pushing his head back as if he were in ecstasy by his own touch.
You were hypnotized, watching his every move as he swayed his body along with the music and touched himself in the process. It felt so dirty to watch but you couldn't help yourself, you were intrigued, you wanted more. Ten wasn't as naked as the rest of the men yet you could tell that all eyes were on him and him only. He climbed up the pole, moving his hips against it, making love to it in front of everyone. You unconsciously squeezed your thighs together as you noticed his eyes on you for a brief second as his feet reached the floor and began grinding on the pole.
You felt light headed to the point of rushing to the bar and grabbing a glass of water, not realizing that the show had now come to an end and Ten was nowhere to be seen.
“He’s good huh” The bartender chuckled as you cooled yourself down,
“Oh yeah he’s really good” you sighed and you heard a snicker come from behind you.
“Well thank you” Ten grabbed a glass of water from the bartender and leaned on the counter to face you, “ready for that lap dance ?”
You found yourself nodding and Ten smirked, holding out his hand “Shall we ?” You took his hand and he led you upstairs where the private rooms were located. You never had a chance to check them out since they were rarely booked out because they were so ridiculously priced.
“Baby can I ask you one more question ?” Ten purred as he set you on the fluffy pink couch and stroked your cheek as you looked up to him and nodded,
“Y-yeah sure”
“Are you a virgin ?”
You shook your head and Ten raised his eyebrow, “Oh baby is a little naughty then ?”
You felt your face burn up and shook your head, “It was only with my ex-boyfriend and we didn't do…..much”
Ten placed a kiss on your hands and made his way to the cd player, ready to pick out a song. You sat awkwardly as he removed his jacket, standing in the middle of the room with just his leather pants and harness.
“Dont worry, I’ll only fuck you if you ask me nicely” he smirked, you swallowed hard as he swayed his hips and made his way over to you. Ten smirked as you sunk into the couch, your eyes practically devouring him as he danced slowly and sultry, concentrating on his hip movements as you bit down on your lip.
Ten got down on his knees and his hooded eyes locked with yours as he continued to sway to the music and his hands danced lightly over your thighs sending you into a frenzy. He pushed your legs apart and used his hands to lift himself off the floor until he was hovering over you, his eyes scanning every part of your body.
You leaned back so he could straddle you, allowing him to grind his body against you until you felt every part of him. “You can touch me if you want y/n” he whispered into your ear and you already found your hands on his waist, enamoured by how perfect his body was.
Ten wrapped his hand lightly around your throat and looked at your lips, waiting for a confirmation from you. Already nodding, Ten pressed his lips against yours passionately, literally and figuratively taking your breath away.
“Ten-I want you to…” you tried to speak against his rough kisses.
“Want me to what baby, use your words” he growled against your ear,
“What you said earlier….I want you to-”
“I said use your words tell me what you want me to do or else you won't get it babygirl” Ten squeezed your throat a little harder, smirking when he heard your pretty moan for the first time.
“I want you...to fuck...me” you finally said softly, Ten groaned at the sweetness in your voice. It sounded so innocent yet so vile at the same time and he couldn't contain himself any longer.
Ten ripped open your white dress shirt and skillfully pulled off your trousers, leaving you on the couch in just your matching lilac underwear. His smirk grew as you slowly reached for his pants, helping him unbuckle it.
He discarded his pants and propped your legs up on the couch as you sat there, spread open for him, wanting him. Ten got to his knees and took the sight in, the way he looked at you was absolutely filthy. He cocked his head to the side and took a seat on the floor, resting his hands behind him as he stared at you,
“Take off your underwear and touch yourself”
You swallowed hard at his words, you had never done something like this before and just him watching you like this made you slightly nervous. You played with the hem of your underwear and you noticed how intently he watched you, eager eyes and wet lips waited for you.
You gathered up the courage and slipped them off, bringing your fingers between your legs and hesitantly began to please yourself.
“You don't like to be touched, or do you want me to do it ?” Ten’s dark eyes bore into yours, “do you want me to teach you how to do it?”
Without giving him an answer Ten got in between your legs and his hands ghosted over your inner thighs, sending a shiver down your spine. He watched your eyes close as his fingers inched closer to your heat, dancing around but not close enough to where you needed him to be.
“Please” you whimpered as he teased you, placing soft kisses on your thighs as his finger finally entered you and your beautiful moan echoed throughout the room. Ten slowly withdrew his finger and inserted it at an agonizing pace, adding another when he felt you shift in your spot in frustration.
“Someones in a rush” he cooed as he slowly fingered you, bringing you to your breaking point multiple times. Ten finally decided to quit his games and pushed his fingers into your mouth as he used his free hand to discard his boxers.
Once you licked him clean Ten positioned himself in front of you with his tip at your entrance. “If it's too much tell me to stop okay, I can be a bit….rough” he ran his fingers through his hair and winked at you.
He pushed himself into you with one thrust and you threw your head back practically screaming his name. Unlike his fingers he wasted no time in bringing you to your climax with his fast sharp movements, hitting that sweet spot every single time.
You felt your orgasm build up rapidly and you threw your hands around his neck as he only moved faster, the room filled with your whimpers and his soft grunts. Ten dug his nails into your waist as he came undone with you, it had been a while that he actually felt that type of euphoria, and all he wanted was more, more of you.
“There's a lot I need to teach you y/n” Ten sighed as he took a seat on the couch and pulled you onto his lap, “Do you want to learn from me?”
You nodded already feeling yourself wanting him inside you again,
“Good girl.”
233 notes · View notes
marsbutterfly · 3 years
Text
Skyfall
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Summary: When you are hired to kill the most dangerous mafia boss, things get a little complicated.
Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!
|◁ II ▷|
“This is the end
Hold your breath and count to ten
Feel the Earth move and then
Hear my heart burst again”
7:34pm
The clock on your wrist tics quietly but in the silent room, it nearly sounds like bombs being dropped from above. Not a word is exchanged between you and the man sitting across the room but you know exactly what he wants.
In his hand rests a dark colored suitcase, you can barely tell until the light hits his belt ever so gently but you finally see the gun he’s been carrying.
You take a deep breath, getting up for your seat. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor fills the atmosphere as you walk towards him, the smirk on his lips is undeniable and you don’t understand what he has to be smiling about.
He stands up a second after you and walks in your direction, bumping against you and dropping his suitcase and the papers in his hand. In response, you throw on the floor the suitcase you once held. 
The man apologizes profoundly as you help him collect the papers on the floor. You say over and over that it is ok, while all the curious eyes in the room land on you. As you stand up, you hand him the suitcase you once had in your hand and he nods, thanking you for the help and apologizing one last time.
You begin to make your way back to your car, the smirk on his lips still engraved in your brain as a chill travels down your spine. “Why was he smiling?” You ask yourself not wanting to admit it but you are a bit scared of knowing the answer.
Though once you open the suitcase, you understand why. Inside, rests the pictures and information of your next target, the millionaire leader of an enemy gang. Though you don’t enjoy taking sides, you’ve been paid a large amount of money to take her out, more than you have ever made.
The war between these two gangs has been going on for the longest time and you have killed enough people on both sides to earn a fair amount of enemies, but this time you couldn’t help but feel a sinking hole opening in your heart.
Hanji Zoe has always been the deadliest member of the underground group. Her kill count is even higher than yours, at least 500+ heads under her belt. They say her torture methods surpass even the ones they use in hell.
She’s known as the Devil herself.
“For this is the end
I've drowned and dreamt this moment
So overdue, I owe them
Swept away, I'm stolen”
8:15pm
Your keys unlock the heavy doors of your house and somehow the marble floors feel colder than ever. Your shoes rest in their designated spot by the coat holder and you throw the suitcase on the couch.
Two cups rest on the counter near the bar area inside your home. One of them contains what you assume is whisky, due to the color and the amount of ice in the cup, it has always been her favorite after a work day.
The lipstick marks are fresh meaning she has just now gotten home. Upon paying closer attention, you realize the shower is on and steam is coming out of the bathroom. You think about joining her but ultimately decide to have a drink first, trying to forget about your next target.
Gently, you take two rocks of ice and place them in the clean cup specifically placed out for you. Pouring yourself a single shot of whisky, you walk towards the balcony feeling as the cold air of the night hits your face.
You knew this day would come but you hoped it would take longer. 
Deep in your own thoughts, you don’t realize the water has been turned off in the bathroom and wet footsteps approach your body.
It’s not until her wet arms wrap around your black dress that you realize you are no longer alone. Her face is buried in your back and you can see steam leaving her arms as the hair on her skin stands up.
The tattoo of your initials on her hand still brings butterflies to your stomach. The memory of the night she got it is still one of your favorite moments you spent together, especially since it was after your first date and she told you she knew you were the one.
“I missed you.” She says, placing a kiss on your skin. You can feel as her breasts are pressed against you and a gasp leaves your body.
“I missed you too.” You reply, a disobedient tear rolling down your face as you chug the contents of the cup in your hand.
“What’s wrong?” She asks, placing her hand on your waist as she turns your body around so you can face her. She is a few inches taller, nothing too extreme but enough to make you look up at her gently.
Her thumb brushes the tear on your cheek before rubbing it above your lips. You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell her the news you just received.
“You are my next target.” You say and Hanji nods, a sad smirk on her lips.
“Let the sky fall
When it crumbles
We will stand tall
Face it all together” 
9:00pm
The brush goes through her hair with ease for the first time, as if she took care of the tangles in the shower already knowing what the news you were bringing would be. After shower moments were the ones where Hanji was the most vulnerable.
She would simply close her eyes and appreciate the attention she’s been given as she fades in the echo of your voice. You hum a melody quietly, Hanji’s favorite song in the hopes to bring her any comfort at all.
Your tears drip down your nose onto her scalp as you put her hair in a ponytail, attempting to help her get ready for the party she will be attending in an hour. At the highest floor of the second tallest building in the entire city.
“How are you going to do it?” She asks, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke up in the air while trying to make rings out of it. You giggle, touching her shoulders before sliding your hands down her arms.
You notice the goosebumps rising on her skin and can’t help but smile at how she reacts to your touch. “Must we talk about it?”
“I need to know.” She replies and you nod, sighing heavily while finally agreeing to talk about the elephant in the room.
“I’ll be on the roof of the Paradise building. I am pretty sure they will send someone to watch me do it.” You begin, spraying the bottle of perfume around her and noticing as the drops of liquid fall on her tan skin, masking the smell of the cigarette.
“But they might not.” She says and you shrug your shoulders.
“They might not.” You say quietly.
“I wouldn’t expect any less from this city’s top 1 assassin.” She says, taking your hand in hers and planting a soft kiss on your palm, leaving behind the red mark of her deep colored lipstick.
She stands up, allowing the robe to fall to the floor and reveal her naked body. You can’t look away from the perfect shape of her breasts, the line that goes through her abdomen from a previous surgery and all of her battle scars.
“Make me yours one last time.” You say, pulling your shirt above her head as you expose yourself to her and she nods, a devious smile curling up on her lips.
You see a few old bullet wounds, some healed while others are still healing. Every single one of them tells a story about who she is and how she has lived her life but your favorite story has always been the one of how she lost her eye.
It was three years ago, the day you met. How could you ever forget?
“Let the sky fall
When it crumbles
We will stand tall
Face it all together
At Skyfall”
Since you were a teenager, you’ve been good at killing. First your shitty parents and every family member who sided with them, including your own brother and sister. Finally being able to control your life, you decided to make a living out of it.
This career put you through college where you earned a chemistry degree, learning how to mix your personal kinds of poison, some of which no one has ever even heard of which makes it hard for the police to find who was responsible for it.
At first, you would go for basic targets: rapists, animal abusers, anyone who dared hurt another soul but word got out of how excellent and quick you were at your job and your number of clients tripled and your name was in everyone’s mouth.
One day, you got a call from a blocked russian number. A smile creeped on your lips as you heard a familiar voice over the phone, Erwin Smith. The man who gave you a chance to grow in this life and made you who you are today, your mentor.
“Y/N, I’m dying.” He says, his voice is faint and you notice his life force is fading away. 
“I can tell.” You reply trying to lighten the mood and he laughs.
“Will you still work for the next boss?” He asks, coughing out a liquid which you could only assume was blood. 
“If that is your dying wish.” You respond and he hums in agreement over the phone, “Then yes.”
Later that week, two men showed up to your house to escort you to Erwin’s funeral. The rain poured over his coffin, hiding away the tears of those who loved him.
Surrounded by at least five men sat a woman in a black coat, her eyes looking in your direction as she took the cigarette to her lips. The tattoos on her leg on display for anyone to see, you could’ve sworn she was silently flirting with you.
And in a moment of weakness, a car drove by shooting up the place completely. Of course they were received with a buffet of bullets as well, but nearly a third of the people around the casket were now dead.
As a bullet makes its way towards you, the brunette with danger in her eyes rushes forward to protect you only to receive the bullet with a glass platter. Needless to say, an uncountable amount of shards found their way into her eyeball.
While she bled in your arms, you tried to make sure she remained awake.
“What’s your name?” You ask and she smiles, bringing your hand towards her lips and licking your thumb with a palpable sexual energy.
“Hanji. Hanji Zoe.” She replied, “The new boss.”
“Skyfall is where we start
A thousand miles and poles apart
Where worlds collide and days are dark
You may have my number, you can take my name
But you'll never have my heart”
10:05pm
Once you are finished redoing Hanji’s hair, she stares at the closet before finally picking out a blood colored suit. No shirt underneath, she places the blazer right above her nipples, only enough to cover them while allowing the rest of her breasts to be exposed.
You on the other hand plan to dress yourself in a completely black outfit hoping to blend into the darkness of the night. Luck was on your side for there were no stars to brighten the sky, allowing you to take complete cover.
As far as you know, nobody is aware of your relationship with Hanji, not even her subordinates. Keeping business away from your private life has always been a priority, even before you committed your first paid killing.
She places a final kiss on your hands and one of your lips, though it does not feel like a goodbye and you sadly accept any kind of comfort you can find.
When her car is out of view, you decide to go up and take a shower by yourself. You wanted to decline this job, to throw everything away: your reputation, the money and simply run away with Hanji to a place where you could live your lives.
But you can’t. Before even knowing who your targets are, you are always made to sign a consent form and if broken, it would cost you your life.
The warm water hits your face and you can still smell Hanji’s strawberry shampoo in the air mixed with the fading smoke of her cigarettes. You begin to remember every shower you spent together, every kiss you shared at the most exquisite places around the world.
Hanji always knew how to make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Eventually, you can no longer if the water streaming down your face comes from the shower or your tears.
As you finish your shower, you begin to get ready. The black outfit had never been colder and the unsettling feeling at the pit of your stomach still remains. While putting a mask above your face, you look at your rifle.
It has your initials and Hanji’s secretly carved on the side and on the other it has the date you started dating. A good luck charm, as she liked to call it.
Tonight will be a fucking awful night.
“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)
When it crumbles (when it crumbles)
We will stand tall (we will stand tall)
Face it all together
At Skyfall”
1:53am
Hours have passed since you've been sitting at the top of this building by yourself, looking through the binoculars at the party happening not too far away.  In the end, they decided not to send anyone to watch over your shoulder as you do your job.
The richest and most powerful people in town were all attending and, even though they wore masks, you could still tell exactly who they were. The years of analyzing and recognizing targets from afar has given you the extraordinary ability to identify covered faces.
By the bar, you see her as she rests her arm on the glass top. She looks beautiful. Her whiskey brown eyes match the liquid in her cup as the black mask covers her features. For a second, you could’ve sworn she looked directly at you.
The instructions were clear: at 2am, a single bullet should be shot directly to her head, killing her instantly. So you position your gun, looking through the lense as Hanji disappears in the crowd for a bit before returning to her usual spot.
You sigh, stopping the tears that attempt to cloud your vision. Your finger slowly moves towards the trigger, as if time itself is desperately trying to stop you from killing your loved one, but it doesn’t matter. No one could stop you now.
Counting the seconds, you make sure the shot to her head is clear and you pray she won’t suffer at all. “Goodbye, my love.”
Time nearly stops once you pull the trigger. You watch closely as the bullet goes through her brain and blood splatters across the clear counter causing every person in the room to desperately run for their lives, not knowing they are all safe.
Only one man stands in the room and he raises his glass at you for he is the only one who knows no more shots will be fired. The asshole who hired you to kill the love of your life. Fucking Zeke Yeager.
With every ounce of your body, you decide that killing him isn’t worth it. He deserves to live to suffer in the future.
You bring your body back up, beginning to disassemble your rifle. It takes you less than a minute to be on your way and you can hear as police sirens approach the building in front of you.
“Where you go, I go
What you see, I see
I know I'd never be me
Without the security
Of your loving arms
Keeping me from harm
Put your hand in my hand
And we'll stand”
Finally getting back to your house, you throw the bag containing the gun on the couch before plopping your body right beside it, a long sigh escaping your lips.
Your eyes then notice the packed bags, all ready to leave as soon as possible. The clicking of heels comes from the other side of the house and you smirk, rushing your thumb through your lips.
“I feel bad for the lady you hired to die in your place.” You say, turning around and propping your chin on the back of the couch.
“Would you prefer if I had died in her place?” Hanji asks, rushing her hand through her freshly shaved head in an attempt to get rid of any hairs that still remain attached to her.
“Of course not, love.” You reply, walking towards her before taking the glass of wine from her free hand.
“Hanji Zoe is dead and the witness to it is Zeke Yeager himself.” She says, a devious smile on her lips.
You can’t help but link your mouth with hers, tasting the delightful mixture of alcohols she has had tonight. Her hands travel through your body, exploring every inch of your skin before gently brushing against your inner thigh.
You gasp gently, nearly melting in response to her actions. God knows you want to melt but you don’t have time.
“It’s 4:25am, the plane leaves in 35 minutes so we should go.” She says and you nod.
You grab one of the packed bags plus your rifle and she grabs the rest before extending her hand to you, hoping to walk away from this life with you by her side but not before staging your own kidnapping and death, everything so no one would ever look for either of you.
Once done with arrangements, she smiles. 
“So where are we going to make our new home?” You ask.
“My home is wherever you are.” She replies and you feel your cheeks getting warm before she continues, “But I was planning the Carribeans.” 
“Fuck yes.” Is all you say and she laughs, squeezing your hand as you both say goodbye to the apartment you’ve shared for years. Leaving behind a life of danger to live together in the house of your dreams, far away from all the negativity.
Just you and Hanji. And maybe a few cats and dogs along the way.
“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)
When it crumbles (when it crumbles)
We will stand tall (we will stand tall)
Face it all together
At Skyfall”
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dameronology · 3 years
Text
one hell of a mandalorian {din djarin}
summary: actions speak louder than words - which is good for din djarin, because he's not very good at words. (this was a commission for an anon! i hope you enjoy).
warnings: language
enjoy!! if you're interested in commissions, you can find out more here :)
- jazz xx
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Din Djarin was a man of few words.
That had become clear not long after you'd met.
It wasn't that he didn't like talking, or that he was rude - he'd just never had the need for it. The Mandalorian could spend days and days in hyperspace, on his own with nothing but a frozen bounty to keep him company. And they were hardly chatty, even before they were thrown away into the trawling depths of carbonite animation. There were a few select geniuses who tried to make conversation with him in a last-ditch attempt to appeal to his humanity and beg for mercy, but so far, they'd had a zero-for-zero success rate. It wasn't that he didn't have any humanity to appeal to it - because he did, and his weird, green surrogate kid was an absolute testament to that - but it just took a little bit for it to come out.
The beskar made him seem a little...robotic. Like a droid, which was ironic, because he wouldn't have gone near the things with a ten-foot-barge pole. Din had just become so used to people seeing his mask and his intimidating posture before him that having human traits, like feelings and thoughts and opinions, had never been any use. Having defining traits and a personality was all well and good, but nothing helped you through the galaxy quite like the ability to put the fear of God in people.
The Mandalorian was something, but Din Djarin was somebody. He was good; not necessarily pure and golden-hearted like a typical comic book hero, but he had a strong moral compass. Sometimes, it pointed in opposite directions, but he helped those who needed it and he paid his dues. That was probably a lot more than anyone in the galaxy could have said for themselves. In the fight of good and bad, in a world that existed entirely and black and white, there was nothing more grey than an honest man. Somebody who refused to pick a side held the power of both. For that, Din could have either been extremely smart, or extremely dumb.
Sometimes, he was extremely dumb. Made the wrong moves in combat, or got too cocky, however out of character it was for him. It was the losing fights that truly brought out the human side of Din, and it took a very, very specific eye to see it, sometimes to the point where even he missed it. It never went over your head, though.
You'd joined the crew on the Razor Crest as a mechanic - then you became a baby sitter, and his partner-in-crime, and the closest thing he'd ever had to a friend. His non-verbal nature meant that most of his emotional cues came in the physical form. It went over the heads of everybody else, but between your intuition, and the time spent in such a cramped space, it quickly became like a second language to you. Helmet tilts when he was confused, and little nods when he was pleased; tensed shoulders when the Mandalorian was nervous and balled fists when he was about to absolutely lose his shit.
Today was one of those days. Even though you were both in one piece and the baby was - by some absolute fucking miracle - asleep, it almost hadn't been that way. Nevarro had been quieter than usual, and Din had let his guard down; finally convinced himself to relax a tiny bit and ever-so-slightly loosen the stick that was firmly up his backside. His sudden lack of awareness for your surroundings had meant that someone managed to track the Crest, however briefly. The kid had barely noticed, and you weren't phased by what had been a simple, human mistake. Din, true to nature, was already beating himself up for it.
That was evidenced by his heavy footsteps, and the way he'd immediately retreated to the cockpit and slammed the door. Common sense would have entailed that he wanted to be left alone, but you'd long surpassed the point of any of that. Common sense didn't exist in a galaxy like this one. Doing the obvious thing was, nine times out of ten, usually the wrong way. Expecting the unexpected was the right way to go.
You'd paced outside the door for the better part of fifteen minutes - to go in, or to not go in, that was the question. You were torn between wanting to give Din space and wanting to be there for him; a cranky Din was often an unbearable one, but you cared deeply for him. Maybe a little too much, but that was a can of worms to open later.
"Din?" You gently called. Nothing. "I know you're brooding, or whatever it is you do under that helmet, but talking is good."
"I'm fine."
You sighed. "The scale goes great, good, bad, awful, world-ending and then fine."
"I've never heard that before in my life."
"Yeah, I just made it up on the spot." You murmured.
Resting your hand against the doorknob, you pondered for a moment. Did you want to risk it by going in? Making him mad when he was literally shutting you out? It was hard to know what to do with Din - it wasn't like he came with an answer key, or even a vague manual that could point you in the right direction. It was all just guess work.
"Is the helmet on?" You softly asked.
"Yeah."
You took that as a sign - with a deep breath, you gently opened the door and stepped inside the cockpit, shutting it quietly behind you. The tense atmosphere inside was almost enough to swallow you whole. The man practically radiated angst.
"Talk to me." You took a seat beside him.
"There's nothing to say."
"Bullshit." You murmured. "You might have a thousand inches of beskar hiding your face but your body language is a dead giveaway."
"I'm meant to protect you and the kid." He replied. It wasn't much, but it was better than silence. "It's my job to catch bad people and outrun them when I need."
"You did outrun them." You reminded him. "I'm safe. You're safe. The kid is safe. Does anything else matter?"
"It shouldn't have happened in the first place." Din said. "I was relaxed-"
"- you allowed to relax." You cut him off. "Despite your best efforts, you're a human being."
Reaching out, you gently placed your hand over Din's ungloved palm. He didn't resist or try to brush you away. His hands were soft and callous in equal measures, which felt like a fitting metaphor for him on the whole. You tangled your fingers in his and held on tightly, perhaps in a sad attempt to remind him that you were there.
But Din knew you were there - he could feel it constantly, and he thought about it just as much. Every day of his life prior to you had been filled with rigidity and angst, then you'd come waltzing in and for the first time in years, he'd untensed his muscles and stopped looking over his shoulder. Learnt to take a breath and enjoy the simple things in life, like Grogu laughing or you accidentally tripping over a tree branch. You'd become so important to him that the prospect of losing you was too much for him to even fathom. He'd come close today - too close - and it had been an eye-opener. The irony was that telling you why he was so fucking scared was more frightening than the entire thing itself.
"Don't be so hard on yourself." The gentle pull of your voice lulled him back to reality. "Please?"
His grip on your hand tightened. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay." You breathily smiled. "You don't have to apologise."
"I never thought I'd have someone like you." Din admitted. "Coming so close to losing you was terrifying, even if it wasn't that close at all."
He'd never been so open about his feeling towards you before. Obviously, you knew that he viewed you in a way he didn't see anybody else, but that knowledge had been based entirely on physical cues and mere guesswork. You'd never expected him to vocalise the way he felt, or even acknowledge them. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, or even something you considered to be detrimental. The words came as a nice surprise.
"You mean a lot to me, Din." You said. He'd always loved the way his name sounded when you said it; nobody had used it for years, not since he'd lost his parents. It was something to vulnerable and personal. You were the only one he trusted with it.
"I do?"
You didn't mean to laugh at that - you really didn't, but it just came out. A low snort of disbelief; shock at his absolute inability to read the fucking room. Din was as intuitive as they came, with the ability to read criminals like a bedtime story he'd been rehearsing since he was a kid. Then it came to you, and he knew nothing. Absolutely nothing. To call him clueless would be the understatement of the century.
"Maker." You murmured. "Of course you do - more than anyone or anything."
"You're special to me." Din replied. "It scares me sometimes."
Din was straight forward with everything he said - it was just finding the courage to say it. He'd gone into battle with Imps and Republic Rangers alike; fought krayt dragons and droids and fellow Mandalorians and yet this entire thing shook him to his very core more than anything else.
You didn't know it, but you were perfectly holding his gaze. Staring right through it and looking right into his soul. He forgot he had one sometimes. It was probably a little dusty and covered in cobwebs, but it was there, and you were bringing it right out of him and back to reality.
Din used his grip on your hands to pull you a little closer - a moment later, he gently pressed the cold metal of his helmet to his forehead. It was the closest you'd ever been to him, even if it wasn't that close at all. You could hear his soft breathing through the modulator, the sensation acting as a stunning reminder that there was a person underneath there. There were times when you forgot, or felt a little disconnected from the idea entirely. You'd never felt the need to see his face, though - you hadn't a clue what he might look like, but at the same time, you had an image of him in your head. It was as clear as day; as bright as the suns on Tatooine and as persevering as the kid's insistence that he receive all your attention, all the time.
You knew what the action was; a Keldabe kiss. The Mandalorian had recounted its meaning to you not long after you'd met - he'd finally let his barriers down and let you plague him with questions about his culture and the creed, and you'd stumbled on the subject. Initially, you'd been entertained by the fact that it two such vastly different meanings. On one hand, it could be a headbutt. A beskar punch to knock the daylights out of anyone who particularly annoyed you. On the other hand, it was almost a romantic gesture; a way that Mandalorians could show their affection to one another without having to remove their armour.
Din had the latter meaning in mind, but also so much more. He was giving you a piece of his culture - including you in the very thing that defined him as a person.
"It won't happen again." The Mandalorian gently said. "I'll never let you get hurt again. I promise."
"I know." You softly smiled. Your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of the cool metal against your forehead. "For what it's worth, I have your back too."
He softly chuckled. "Thank you."
You gently pulled back, eyes meeting again (not that you could tell).
"Seriously!" You said. "I can be a bad-ass."
"You can be a lot of things." Din replied. "You're one hell of a girl."
"And you're one hell of a Mandalorian."
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anagentinwriting · 3 years
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Lifeline - Part 1
Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader
Word Count: ~1800
Warnings: Car accident, angst
Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist
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A line ringing over your headset notifies you another emergency call is coming in. You cleared your head, preparing for anything, and clicked the spacebar, answering it, “911, what’s your emergency?” 
“Bro, that was insane,” the male voice said over the phone. “You’re gonna be famous on YouTube.” 
“Excuse me, sir? What seems to be the problem?” you asked, letting out a sigh. 
“My friend is having trouble breathing, and his throat feels like it’s on fire.”
“What’s the address?”
“576 Rose Lane in Westwood.” 
You typed the address into your computer, signaling the nearest available unit to the caller's location. “First responders are on their way. Can you tell me what he was doing before this happened?”
“We were doing the cinnamon challenge.” You rolled your eyes. “I thought it was harmless. Then, he was gagging, and then he coughed, and a puff of cinnamon came out of his nose. It was awesome; he looked like a dragon.” It's been a while since you got a call about an internet challenge gone wrong, but it's been forever since you got a cinnamon challenge one. You didn't even know that challenge was still around.  “Oh fuck!”
“Is everything okay? What happened?” 
“He collapsed. He’s not moving. Should I shake him awake?”
“He probably passed out, but paramedics are only a few minutes away. Is he still breathing?”
“I don’t think so,” he panicked.
“Remember to stay calm, I’ll help you through this the best I can, okay? Okay, now I am going to have to ask you to administer CPR. Do you know what to do?” 
“Sort of. I learned it in health class a few years ago.”
“Perfect. It's 30 chest compressions followed by two breaths going to the rhythm of the song Staying Alive. You can do this.”
“Ok---okay. Yeah. Right, right,” he mumbled. Hearing him set the phone down on the ground, he started counting and doing chest compressions.
The responding unit was about a block away, and once they arrived, you could hear the sirens coming through the phone call.
“Odinson, take over compressions,” a lady’s voice commanded. “Kid, come with me.”
“Is he going to be...” the line went dead as he hung up his phone.  
You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes. This wasn’t anything new; when help arrives, people hang up, and you don’t get to know how it ends, but maybe it was for the best. You sit back up, seeing your reflection in one of the many screens in front of you. At least, you knew most of the firefighters from Station 107 at the scene, including your brother Thor, if you ever wanted to know how it ended.
It's tough, taking call after call, emergency after emergency with little to no recovery time in between. It’s a stressful job that is emotionally and physically taxing. It requires extreme focus, patience, and puts you under a certain kind of pressure. The pressure of wanting to help and do everything you possibly can when this person you never met puts their life in your hands. You never know what the outcome will be, but you try to help them get through what might be the scariest moment in their life. It’s those calls, the ones you were able to save, that keep you coming back to work.
You stepped away from your command center and headed towards the kitchenette, spotting Luis rummaging through the fridge. It wasn’t unusual, but it did always bring a smile to your face. It was hard to believe he was one of the dispatchers who showed you the ropes after relocating to Los Angeles three months ago. 
“Hey, Luis.” He turned around with a doughnut in his mouth, quickly removing it and shooting you a carefree smile.  
“Hey, Chica, get any weird calls yet? You know I love hearing about those weird ones, right.” 
“Nothing out of the ordinary, but a guy called earlier saying his whole body hurt everywhere he poked. I told him to drive to the emergency room and get his finger looked at because it’s probably broken. Oh, and there was another cinnamon challenge victim.”
“Another one, I thought that craze was over.” He shook his head. “But I did hear about this crazy call that came in last night, right. It wasn’t so much crazy, but one of those nuisance calls, you know what I’m saying, the kind where you’re like, ‘why are you calling, this isn’t an emergency type of situation?’ Anyways, Cameron Klein took the call; you know the dude with the great hair, the kind you just want to run your hands through. It has the perfect fluff to curl ratio. I mean, I touched it once, and it was like a cloud. I asked him what products he used in his hair, and he was like…” 
“Luis, how does this relate to the call?”
“Oh, right. Sorry, sorry, sorry, so there was this lady caller, right. She was telling Great Hair how she couldn't leave her car because there was a hostile raccoon outside her door. So then, Great Hair was like why don’t you go out a different door. And this caller says ‘yo I tried, but it’s like this trash panda can read my mind, right. He follows me when I move to the other side, and he’s like crazy, stupid fast like a rocket.’ And here comes the best part, Great Hair was like, ‘Hey girl, you better run fast then,’ and hung up,” he beamed with a slight chuckle.
“Oh my god, people really need to learn what an emergency is,” you chuckled, shaking your head. 
“You know that’s right, but duty calls.” He tilted his head towards the door, carrying two doughnuts and a huge mug full of coffee. 
“Later, Luis.”
Years ago, you never would have imagined you would be working as a dispatcher in Los Angeles. You preferred helping people hands-on, which is why you became an ER nurse. It was the feeling of never knowing what was going to come charging through those doors next that excited you. But being a dispatcher gave you a whole different kind of thrill because you could only use your voice to help.
The rest of your shift flew by until you were on hour eight of your ten-hour shift. A pileup involving a semi jackknifing on the highway forced a huge collision of cars. All the units in the area along with a few on the outskirts came in to assist. It was the same call coming in multiple times, and all you could say was help was already on the way.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Send help,” the woman cried, telling you her address.
“Ma’am, I am going to need you to tell me what is going on?”
“A power line…a power line fell into our pool, and my daughter is trapped on her unicorn floaty in the water. I don’t…I don’t know what to do.”
“Stay calm, ma’am. My name is YN, and I’m dispatching a unit to your home now.” You switched lines to the highway accident, getting on a line with Captain Danvers from Station 107, who was sending three individuals to the scene right away. You switched back to the caller. “Okay, I will need you to stay calm. What is your daughter’s name?”
“Morgan, she’s five years old.”
“Please, whatever you do, make sure Morgan stays on the floaty because it is protecting her from the water. There is a good chance the power line is sending more than 5000 volts through the water.”
“Okay, okay, I can do that, “ the mother breathed. “Honey, please stay on the tube.”
“I'm going to try to get in contact with the power company to turn it off.” You looked up the power company in the area, and someone slid next to you. You glance over, seeing Bruce get to work on calling the power company. You nodded at him, staying on the line with the mom. “Ma’am, has help arrived yet?”
“No, but I can hear the sirens.” You peeked at Bruce, but he shook his head, still trying to get a hold of the power company. “They are coming through the back gate now.”
“Ma’am, can you hand the phone to one of the firemen?” You bit your lip, studying the layout of their home on one of your monitors. There were flowers all over their backyard, and you got an idea. 
“Hello, this is Fireman Rogers.”
“Hi, Fireman Rogers. This is 9-1-1 dispatcher, YN, how is it looking there?”
“Well, on the drive-in, we saw that a truck hit the power line pole, which caused the pole to fall into the pool. The driver isn’t in any serious condition, but one of our EMT’s is looking him over,” he informed in a deep voice. “Then, we have a pool vibrating with energy, but I assume you already know that part.”
“Do you have a plan in place? We are still trying to get a hold of the power company.”
“There are a few more floaties by the pool. I could ride one over to Morgan and pull her to safety?”
“Really? Where did you get that from the macho man handbook?”
“I don’t think that book exists, YN,” he added, making you scoff.
“I may have an idea.” You narrowed your eyes, playing out the idea in your head. 
“What did you have in mind?”
“I can view the whole home on one of my monitors, and there are a ton of flowers. So, I can only assume a garden hose must be nearby.”
“Yup, I see it.”
“Okay, perfect. Grab the hose and cut off the metal ends; it's rubber, so it won't conduct electricity. Then, have you and another fireman take the hose and walk along the opposite sides of the pool. Have Morgan grab ahold of it and carefully pull her back to the edge."
“That’s genius, YN. Thanks for your help,” he acknowledged, making you crack a side smile. Few people said thank you in this job, but when they did, you appreciated it. “Here’s your phone back, ma’am.”
Morgan’s mother's breath was shaky and staggered through the phone. She was scared and had every right to be. If you were in that situation, you would be, too. “Oh my god, it’s working. It’s working,” the mother shouted into your ear. “Are you okay, honey? Are you hurt?”
“I am okay, Mommy,” Morgan replied before the phone line went dead.
You smiled at yourself in one of the now blank screens. It was these moments why you loved what you were doing; a happy ending. Some calls never get a happy ending, but when they do, those are the ones you try to remember when a stressful call comes in.
________
AN: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. There is a long way to go and I promise things will definitely get more interesting. This was just a quick intro to some of the many characters that will make an appearance/cameo. Comments always welcome! Thanks for reading and I hope you’ll stick with me! 
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