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dorimena · 3 years

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𝕷𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖐𝖊

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.4k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, lingerie, sex toy (vibrating butt plug), implied edging, implied overstimulation, pegging, mommy kink, dacryphilia, dom!reader, sub!reader

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; garterbelt, dry orgasms, didn’t know lima bean respect day existed, if you haven't realized i refer to reader's dick as cock whether flesh or silicone, implied aftercare, aged up character, Bakugou is in his 20s

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; late gift for the birthday boy who i haven’t written anything about until now. It was supposed to come out as a small fic, but University kept getting in the way and I’ve fallen behind with some pendant writings. Guess this is my first headcanon thing. Not proofread!

April 20th could mean anything for a lot of people:

In the US, it’s National Pineapple Upside Down Cake Day.

Also in the US, it’s National Lima Bean Respect Day.

Internationally, for the weed lovers, it’s 420 Day.

But April 20th simply means it’s your boyfriend’s birthday.

Bakugou had been hinting about wanting a small surprise for a while, whether big or small

And by hinting, I mean downright telling you every breakfast, lunch and dinner spent possible throughout March that he wants something from you, but doesn’t want to know what

If you were Mina, you would’ve thrown a party at some lowkey club and hired one of the best DJs in the city, if not the country

If you were Kirishima, you would’ve taken him hiking to a new mountain someplace else in Japan + a weekend glamping getaway

If you were Sero, you would’ve gone to do something relaxing, maybe a spa? Aerial yoga? Definitely not to just see his ass in some yoga pants

If you were Kaminari-

Well, that’s actually an interesting thought… What would you have done if you were Kaminari?

Bakugou wearing a black, see-through thong, the most sensual looking lace garterbelt you could find in his size and a pretty black bow sitting on his ass is what you managed to come up with

Sure. At first he was ready to fight, but then he remembered who you were so obedient baby boy mode was activated without any more fuss. That, and his fucking fantasies.

He’s also been fantasizing for the past few weeks leading up to his birthday about how you’d probably ride him. Maybe fuck him? He doesn’t care, just wants to be babied and loved and fucked good until he passes out to wake up a week later.

Maybe not, he still has work to do

Another reason he put up with this is because, y’know, you tend to be nicer on special days so-

Bakugou wearing a garterbelt makes you feel so many levels of horny in a span of 30 seconds once you see it on him. It accentuates his already envious waist line even more. God, you can’t wait to see him bent over and ass up.

So you tell him gently to do so from where you’re sitting, and he does it so prettily.

Reminds you of a graceful cat, the way he turns around on the bed, chest already down onto the bed sheets as he pulls his torso as close to his knees as possible. Juicy ass is as high as it could be and wow, the thong doesn’t do a good work at hiding the glimmer of the diamond butt plug.

Pity it didn’t come in any other color than white, but it came with the lingerie.

You didn’t even warn him when you turn the butt plug on.

The promised low setting already sounding pretty loud, his small huffs indicating it’s not as overwhelming yet.

Good.

But by now, you’ve left it on for a good while, watching as he tries not to lose his balance or shuffle too much to ‘lose the appeal’.

He’s cursing at you in airy moans, vermillion eyes glaring at you. Why are you teasing him? You’re meant to be nice.

It’s his fucking birthday

You’d punish him for his impatience, but you already punished him the day before.

You don’t want him not being fucked in the ass so you turn the vibrator up to the last setting, smiling sweetly as he curses even louder

This is still punishing but nice, right?

He seems to agree

His arms are restless, moving from staying beside him to moving above his head to grip at the sheets.

His hands also go to grab his ass and pull the cheeks apart to show you how he’s clenching desperately around the toy, whining about how he needs you right now, to stop fucking around and get your big ass cock in him or else-

But that “or else” doesn’t really get finished, not with you startling him with your speed and sight of the ribbons.

His arms are tied now, forcing him to keep spreading his ass, to keep showing himself off.

This has him burying his face into the bed, hiding how red he’s gotten from embarrassment.

You don’t allow that, so you press your hand onto the plug to push it in deeper.

He yells out your name, body jolting as the toy relentlessly messes with his prostate while your other hand curiously goes to touch the front.

The thong is absolutely soaked and sticky, and when you move your fingers against the fabric to feel just how sticky it is, Bakugou tries humping them, well, really just trying to rub his dick against your fingers because wow the stimulation of the fabric is n i c e.

But you’re not having it just yet, you wanna appreciate his perfect posture a bit more.

Reminder: the butt plug is already at its highest setting.

So the next best thing you can do is smack his ass because your baby loves that, loves how you leave compliments and praise for how it jiggles and gets a pretty red. He does it for you, after all, makes sure it’s always at its best presentation.

But he’ll never tell you shit because then you’ll tease him and embarrass him in front of his friends.

So a few slaps in, being careful with his hands, all followed by cooing at how it moves, how it blushes, how it’s now matching his face and probably dick too, has him trying to fuck back into the vibrator, but he’s humping absolutely nothing and growing more and more desperate and horny.

You back away from the bed, going for your camera to take another pic for your growing collection.

On the bed lies Bakugou Katsuki, all tied up, lingerie getting sticky with precum, the laciest garterbelt you’ve ever seen decorating his waist while he’s panting heavily, ass in the air, face completely red and wet, whether it be his sweat or tears.

He’s holding his ass apart to show you the vibrating diamond butt plug that’s been stuck in the highest setting, buzzing away as he’s whimpering your name, hiccuping “mommy, mommy, mommy” as he pleads for mercy, wiggling his ass as he tries luring you back to his body.

“M-mommy! Hnnnm tuh-touch me! Plea-ease? Please~”

Hey, aren’t you supposed to be nice? Eh...

He can’t come alone from the vibrating butt plug, never has been able to before, and if his rocking hips don’t indicate how much he wants to either fuck the bed or have your hand on it, you just ignore it.

Let’s see if tonight he’ll be able to cum hands-free for once. And make sure he cries more and more everytime he gets to cum from your cock and only because of your cock.

Basically that’s your birthday gift. Fuck him good until he either forgets his name, he's a babbling, crying mess, he's completely milked, or all of the above.

After hours of being edged by the toy he finally came, but in thin, small amounts, so you had to fuck out a few more rounds and cum out of him before he passed out.

In all honesty, he begged you to fuck him until he passed out. He had been fantasizing about it, after all.

After you both had your final orgasm of the night, rather early morning, he’s in tears, body trembling through the last tremors of his 2nd dry orgasm out of what? 7 orgasms? The copious amount of cum he’s managed to get milked out of him drying everywhere on his body, drool wetting the bed sheets even more than they were, room smelling like caramel, asshole fluttering around nothing and dick twitching as if wanting more.

Bakugou’s speaking gibberish at this point, the only coherent words leaving his dumb mouth being “mommy”, “more” or your name as he slowly succumbs to his exhaustion.

You give him your premium grade A aftercare during the little time he remained conscious and took care of everything else as he slept.

Next day, you cook breakfast, even if he grumbled about the taste or appearance.

He’s a good boy, he’s not gonna yell at you or be ungrateful with anything and everything you do, considering you put up with his anger. I mean, he gives his opinions, insights, inquiries through loving shouts of disapproval and approval.

All in all, he liked his birthday, but told you he kind of expected you to throw a party and had mentally prepared himself

Goddamn it. Guess next year you’ll call Mina for some help

#bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #sub bakugou #sub bnha #ლ; blasphemy #𝖇𝖆𝖐𝖚𝖌𝖔𝖚

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isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years

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Strawberry Jam Sandwich | Regulus Black x Reader

Warnings: Nothing :)

Time/Era: Marauders Era

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Y/N Potter and Regulus Black are a match made from heaven, even if other people didn’t expect it.

Request: hello first of all I really like your writing and hope you and your loved ones are doing well. could you write a regulus black fic? like reader is James’ sister and they get married (because regulus doesn’t die) and years later they meet Harry?

A/N: Thank you and thank you for the request! Let me know how you like it! Enjoy! I love Reg and I’m so excited to FINALLY write for him!! For anyone else wanting a fic; please request away!

masterlist | read on ao3

Y/N Potter and Regulus Black were a weird pairing in most people’s eyes. Both being the younger siblings of the two most popular guys in school, it made their peers raise their eyebrows. Not to mention, they were in rival houses and seemed to be on opposite sides of the war. But they just worked.

Y/N was a lot like her older brother, James; very loud and loveable. She was naturally talented on the quidditch field and loved to make friends. It was obvious that she had relationships with people of all the houses due to her outgoing attitude and warm sense of humor. While Regulus also played quidditch, he was much more introverted and shy. He didn’t have many friends, due to being categorized by his surname automatically, so he often kept to himself and spoke only when necessary. Y/N was the talker, Regulus was the listener.

Funnily enough, Y/N and Regulus met through the means of getting Sirius to make amends with Regulus again. Regulus had cornered Y/N in the library and begged her to help him come up with a plan to talk to his brother. They ended up meeting multiple times in the following weeks and grew to be friends.

Regulus adored her ability to be interested in small things; she once asked him what a necklace he wore meant. It didn’t mean anything in particular, but she sat and listened to him speak about his jewelry for almost 15 minutes. No one ever took the time to listen to what the younger Black sibling had to say.

To their ‘plan sessions” in the library, Y/N always brought a strawberry jam sandwich to munch on. They met after her quidditch practices, so James and Sirius wouldn’t find them, which meant she needed a snack to keep her energy levels up. She always offered him half, which the rather regal boy would decline nearly every time. Nearly. Regulus found her little snack absolutely adorable, especially when the jam got all over her face. It made her lips even pinker, and that much more kissable.

The sandwich became an inside joke between the two quickly. Even when passing in the halls, they would scoff and find the most outlandish way to mention the food. It wasn’t funny in hindsight, but it was something that connected the two in its ridiculousness.

Regulus paced back and forth among the bookshelves of the Hogwarts library, hoping to bump into his now best friend, Y/N. The library was near empty, as it was Friday night and very close to curfew, so even just looking for her held very little hope. She had mentioned something about having to finish an assignment she was procrastinating, so Regulus hoped she followed his advice to just get it over with.

The bookshelves were high and blocked most of the ceiling in the room, making the books impossible to read. Long, vertical shadows cast their darkness over almost every inch of the floor and offered very little light to allow him to navigate the maze of shelves. During the day, of course, this was a different considering the wall of windows that looked over the courtyards. The window seats were some of his favorite places to come and think. And the seats just happened to be his and Y/N’s meeting spot.

Regulus was about to give up on his search, but he noticed Y/N hunched over an astronomy book, sitting on the floor with her back leaning against a bookshelf. He casually slipped next to her, offering a shy hello.

“Hey, Black. What are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing, Potter. Not exactly the best studying environment.” Regulus tilted his head back until it hit the books and turned his head to see her.

“Well, I’m trying to save myself from having to do this entire project tomorrow. I have a book, yet you appear literature-less. What’s your excuse?” Y/N moved so she sat with her legs crossed, the thick book laid open on her lap.

“I came to return this, you left it at our last meeting.” He placed a slightly toasted strawberry jam sandwich on the book. It was wrapped lazily in a green napkin and left an abundance of crumbs on her homework. Upon further inspection, the words will you be my girlfriend? were scribbled messily on the paper in black ink. Y/N’s jaw grew slack as she looked over at the highly attractive man next to her.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I just wanted to ask.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Dead, Y/N.”

A smile crept over her features and she held out half of the sandwich. “Suppose we can start our relationship with a snack?”

Regulus accepted the food, making a subtle crunching noise as he bit into it. “I suppose I can make the exception to eat your exceptionally plain choice in snack food, just this once.”

“I’m sorry, you’re dating who?” James laughs, shrugging his younger sister off before grabbing his broom.

By this point, Y/N and Regulus have been sneakily dating for more than half a year and Y/N was tired of hiding their relationship. After Regulus and Sirius had failed to rekindle their relationship, Sirius shoved his brother even further away than they started. It hurt the younger black to the point of giving up, but even he was tired of hiding their relationship. He loved Y/N with his entire being, and his jerky older brother couldn’t ruin that.

“Have you ever even talked to Regulus before?” Sirius adds, grabbing his own broom to prep for quidditch practice.

“Yes, and I am dating him. Not sure what’s so hard to understand about that.”

“We understand it, just don’t believe it. Now, don’t speak about things you don’t understand.” James kicked off the ground and flew in the direction of the quidditch pitch.

“Don’t understand? Excuse me?!”

“He’s right. I know you were just trying to prank us, but joking about something that personal isn’t funny, Y/N.’’ Sirius mounts his own broom and flies off after James.

After practice, Y/N hurried to the library to meet her slightly anxious boyfriend. Regulus knew you were telling Sirius and James, and he knew they would react badly. Y/N saw Regulus sitting on the windowsill furthest from the door and hurriedly walked over.

“Hey! How’d it go?” He asked after Y/N pecked his lips and sat next to him. Regulus wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

“Not much to tell, really. They said I was trying to prank them and to not talk about things I didn’t understand. Honestly, I kind of wish they yelled.”

Regulus laughed and kissed her temple. “They’ll come around, I’m not exactly their favorite person so I can see why they don’t believe it. And I’m happy they didn’t yell because I know how you feel when people yell and I don’t want you to feel like that.”

“Holy shit! Get away from my sister!” James’ voice filled the area, Sirius quick on his heels. They must have been following Y/N after practice.

“Riddle me this, you want to spy for the order and potentially get KILLED?!” Y/N paced around the living room of Regulus and her shared flat.

It didn’t take long for Sirius to reaccept Regulus back into his life after seeing how he treated Y/N. At first, both older brothers thought Regulus was using Y/N to feed secrets and information to the opposing side of the war. They didn’t accept the couple and wanted Y/N to have nothing to do with the boy. But, after many feelings were hurt and various words were shared, they decided to give the boy a chance.

Regulus treated Y/N like a queen and made sure his girl knew how much he loved her. He wasn’t very good with words, but his actions spoke volumes. Flower bouquets were gifted periodically, as were small gifts that had a lot of thought put into them. During one of their study dates, he spent over an hour drawing a beautiful portrait of her. Not too long after, he gave her an entire sketchbook of drawings he knew she would love. Whether that was pictures of her friends, family, her favorite flowers, or something as mundane as the bench she loved to sit on, the gift had taken hours and hours of his time. It was obvious that Regulus was in love with his girl.

After graduating from Hogwarts, both Regulus and Y/N joined the Order of the Pheonix. Regulus still had heavy ties with Voldemort and his family, so Dumbledore asked him if he would consider being a spy for the Order. Even Sirius thought it was a bad idea. But, he had to prove that he wasn’t who he was raised to be. He had to prove himself to not only everyone around him, but to his inner soul.

“Listen, Dumbledore thinks that there’s a spy that infiltrated the Order and if I can find out who, maybe I can stop it. Think about it, James has a kid, a kid who is very valuable to you-know-who. We haven’t even spent a ton of time with him yet, but I know I can save him if I find the spy.”

“Yes, I realize that, Reg. But I can’t lose you in the process. We’re supposed to get married and have kids of our own and have a happy life-” Y/N takes a deep breath. “I can’t live without you.”

Regulus smiles a comforting smile, taking his girlfriend’s hands in his. “I know, darling. I’m not going anywhere. How about this,” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small ring box, presenting it to Y/N. “Let’s get married. I’ve never been a fan of the big white wedding...and all you need is a few witnesses and two signatures. I’m sure Sirius and James would be more than willing to witness. What do you say?”

Y/N gapes at her boyfriend. “Are you asking me to marry you?!” Regulus laughs and pecks her lips.

“I love you so much, Y/N Potter. You are the light of my life and I am so lucky to have you. You have brought me so much joy and really made me the best person I could be,” He wipes a tear delicately from Y/N’s skin. “I asked James for his blessing, too, after the last Order meeting. He said he was ecstatic for us. So, Y/N, will you marry me? We can eat strawberry jam sandwiches together for the rest of our lives.”

“Yes! A thousand times yes!”

“Hi, little one, I’m your uncle, Regulus, remember?- Ow! Not the hair!” Regulus sat in a suit in the parlor of Potter cottage with one-year-old harry in his lap. Y/N watched from the doorway, decked out in her white cocktail dress and heels. She couldn’t help but gush at the sight of her soon to be husband with a child; it felt so natural. Her heart swelled just thinking about watching him play with their own children.

“Yeah, he does that, keep him at a distance,” James responded, coming into the room. He was running late, as always, and was trying to tie his tie. “I can’t believe I’m witnessing my baby sister getting married!”

Harry gargled and reached his hands towards his father. “Dadadadada!!!!”

“I know, buddy, I’m right here. Hang out with your Uncle Reg for a while, yeah?” James responds, messing with his hair in the mirror. No matter how much he ‘fixed it,’ it all looked the same.

“It’s crazy how he looks so much like you, it’s like you copied your baby photos and made them come to life!” Y/N stated. Harry was almost an exact copy of James, but with Lily’s eyes.

Sirius came into the room, perfectly dressed with his hair tied back. “Well, are we leaving or not?” He asked, fixing the bowtie around his neck in the mirror for the 8th time.

“Pa’foo!” Harry squeals and squirms in Regulus’ arms. His grip tightens around the baby before pressing a kiss into his dark curls.

“No, not Pa’foo! Reg!” Sirius turned towards Y/N and whistled. “Damn, Reggie, not sure how you picked up this one! Look at the legs on her! Phew, lucky I don’t snatch you up myself!”

“Stop it! Can we please go?” Y/N swatted Sirius’s chest with her bag, embarrassed.

James plucked Harry from Regulus’ lap and hands him to Lily. “Yes, yes. Sorry, let’s go!” James kisses Lily’s cheek and disapperates out of his house.

Y/N walks over to Regulus and offers him a hand. “Ready to go get married?”

“I’ve never been more ready, my love. “

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raunchyom · 3 years

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Vices, Not Virtues: Charity

[ Chapter 2 ]

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A/N: Man, this took a helluva lot longer than I thought it would. It also ended up being a helluva lot longer than I thought it would, despite what I said on the last chapter. Oops. Hope y’all like long fics ^^’ Tagging: @devintrinidad

word count: 3k || warnings: n/a

Since arriving in the Devildom, you’d been perpetually busy.

Whether baking with Luke or shopping with Asmo, reading with Satan or snacking with Beel, practicing magic with Solomon or playing body pillow for Belphie, going to class or doing mountains of homework-- it was always something, and it always added up to a very full schedule.

Today was no different. Lucifer had insisted on keeping you until you were practically asleep in his study last night, only relenting because you had class the next day. And it wasn’t as if you could fall asleep when you got back to your room-- you had things due tomorrow, and a full schedule to try and get back on track of.

You’d mostly succeeded on the homework front, even finishing with enough time for a solid 4 hours of sleep that night. The pre-class D.D.D. tutorial you’d promised to Simeon happened right on schedule, and you successfully stayed awake for your entire first and second periods. You snuck out of third period to help Asmo with his latest fashion emergency, then managed the rest of third and fourth period without a hitch. You spent lunch listening to the newest anime-oriented drama from Levi, then attended the last of your classes. A text popped up from Beel just thirty minutes before school was over that he made a mistake, and needed your advice. You went ahead and offered to help clean the kitchen, already guessing what had happened. Overall, it was a pretty standard day.

Well, standard or not, once you’d gotten back to your room-- and finished cleaning up the wreckage that Beel had severely understated in his messages-- it was late, with a lot left to do. You opened your door, mentally blocking out how much time it should take to complete everything. Your math left you confident that you could get 4 hours of sleep again tonight, maybe even 5 if you really focused. You set your backpack down, feeling better, and flopped into your desk chair. The second your butt hit the cushion, you felt your D.D.D. buzz from your pocket.

You groaned, head hitting the desk with a soft ‘thunk’. Didn’t your phone know that you were busy?

As if it could hear your thoughts, the device vibrated again, eliciting a sigh. Pity party successfully waylaid, you dug your D.D.D. out of your pocket and checked the notifications.

It was a string of texts, all from Mammon. First he asked what you were doing, then where you were. The next one said to forget both of those; he needed you to come help him with homework in his room. When you hadn’t answered fast enough, he began to spam you with angry emojis.

He was acting like a brat, but that was his version of begging. He was always struggling in his classes, and your tutoring usually helped; you couldn’t fault him for wanting to improve his grades. And so, ignoring everything you had to do, you decided to help him. After all, isn’t that what being a good friend is all about?

You stood up, tossing your backpack on again. If you factored your study session into your schedule, that would put you at 4 hours of sleep tops. No, the likelihood it would only take an hour was slim; probably 3.5 hours of sleep. Another text-- make that two-- made your D.D.D. buzz again; both demanding you reply, the second saying you didn’t have a choice in whether to help. ...Maybe 2.5 hours.

Your first knock on his door was met with silence, and you briefly considered leaving to do your own homework. But no-- you came to help, you should help.

“Mammon?” You tried again, knocking louder.

“Finally! Get in here already!” He yelled through the door.

Mammon was on his couch, backpack tossed a good ways away from him. Though he had a textbook on his coffee table, and plenty of papers scattered across the surface, he didn’t seem to be working on anything specific. It didn’t help that he was upside-down on his couch; his legs thrown over the back cushion and head hanging off the front. It wasn’t the typical doing-homework pose, but far be it from you to tell what Mammon was thinking.

“You sure took your time!” He tossed his D.D.D. to the side, pointing an accusing finger in your direction.

“I walked straight here when I got your texts.”

“Yeah, well, you should already know when I want ya here.” He huffed, then practically fell off the couch amidst his panicked backpedaling. “Not-- Not that I want ya here, I mean! The Great Mammon doesn’t want some human around, crampin’ his style! I just--!” He rolled into a normal sitting position, the redness in his face no longer the result of being upside-down.

“You wanted my help with homework, right?” You tried to throw him a life raft, but it went right over his head.

“What? Homework? We had homework!?” He asked, now looking frazzled for a different reason. You took a deep breath, briefly wondering how this scatterbrain remembered to put pants on every morning.

“Mammon, why did you ask me to come over?” You finally asked, trying to get him back on track.

“I asked… oh! Yeah! I uh…” He glanced at his table, a mess of papers that he hadn’t looked at since dumping them out of his folder. He looked back up at you expectantly. “Mc, do you have any money?”

...Oh, so that’s what this was about. It was hard not to feel disappointed that he had lied to get you here, but at least he got right to the point. “Yeah, sure, what happ-- ah, whatever. How much do you need?”

You reached for your wallet, hoping to just fork over the grimm and go back to what you were doing. He hadn’t asked in a while, so this was probably legit. Probably. He would promise to pay it back, with every intention of doing so, and then forget to, or run into more debt. It was a vicious cycle; you were happy to not be a part of it. Well, at least it was nice while it lasted.

“What? No, that’s not-- ya shouldn’t be handin’ out money like that!” Mammon nagged, effectively freezing your hand in midair. If he didn’t want money, why was he asking? “You don’t needta give your stuff away to people just ‘cause they ask, that’s how people take advantage of ya!”

At first, his behavior didn’t make sense, but the gears started turning on what was going on. You shoved your wallet back into place, trying not to sound as exhausted as you felt. “Is this because of Lucifer?”

“Lucifer?” He echoed, confused.

“You know, his whole idea of giving you guys a week to…” You gestured vaguely, not wanting to say ‘teach me to sin’ for multiple reasons; “uh, talk to me?”

“Whaddya mean Lucifer?” He sounded affronted at the thought. “It was MY idea!” He huffed, crossing his arms.

“You thought of this?” It was surprising, but you felt inclined to believe him. He didn’t like to admit that he cared; he wouldn’t suddenly lie about being worried enough to bring it up to his brothers. Either way, as sweet as it was, good intentions wouldn’t save your grades. But maybe if he had gotten you into this mess, he could get you out of it. At the very least, he might be able to get you out of today’s lecture. “Mammon, I really appreciate it, but I don’t have time to--”

“Exactly! Ya never have time!” He launched up off the couch, flinging his arms out dramatically as he spoke. “You’re always givin’ it away to everybody else! Just like your stuff, and your grimm! Do ya ever even spend anythin’ on yourself?”

“Of course I do.” You replied easily. He made it seem as if you were emptying your pockets for anyone who asked. You weren’t some human piggy bank, you bought yourself stuff all the time.

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time ya bought somethin’ for yourself, then? And food doesn’t count! Neither does stuff ya need for school, or takin’ care of yourself. When’s the last time ya bought something just ‘cause ya wanted it?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“I, uh…” That was a lot of rules. You tried to flip back in your mind. You weren’t exactly a big spender; certainly not since you’d arrived in the Devildom with so little time to work for extra cash. To Mammon’s point, you could only think of things you bought out of necessity. A snack when you didn’t have time for lunch. A new pair of shoes when yours were falling apart. Some toiletries when you needed them. A new uniform when your jacket was torn beyond repair, and you didn’t want to bother anyone about it.

“But you’re always buyin’ stuff for others!” Mammon let your thoughts wander enough to make his point, but he had to cut in eventually. “Remember how I usedta ask for money all the time?”

“I mean-- it’s been a while.” It was a meager attempt at defense, but it was true. You couldn’t remember the last time he came to your door, brown-nosing his way into your pockets.

“Yeah, well, when ya first got here, you gave your grimm away freely, always buyin’ stuff for people-- so I thought ya had a buncha money. Then I heard Lucifer sayin’ ya don’t have much, and you were sayin’ ya wanted to save some, so I stopped askin’! But nobody else knows, so they keep askin’, and you keep givin’ it to ‘em! I know you don’t have stuff to be givin’ away either, I’ve been through--” He caught himself before he admitted it out loud, but you were well aware of the fact that Mammon had rooted through your stuff at the beginning. He had stopped at this point… you hoped. “No one here wants to take advantage of ya, but they don’t know they’re doin’ it. Ya gotta tell people not to ask for so much-- I mean, I’m the avatar of greed, and I feel bad takin’ your stuff! I bet the others would feel the same!”

It was hard to tell whether he cared more about your financial situation or about making his brothers feel guilty. “I think--”

“Don’t even get me started about your time!” Mammon didn’t let you get a word in edgewise, advancing towards you as he ranted. He didn’t realize he was doing it; the action a subconscious result of his rising emotions. You took a few steps back, but soon bumped into furniture and had to stop. “You’re always busy, and ya got tons’a homework, but ya never say no when people ask for help! Do ya even have time to be here right now? Or do ya have somethin’ you could be doin’ instead?”

It was a fair point, but hard to take from the one who’d brought you here. “It’s fine, I like to help out.”

“Help yourself out!” This was the second time within 24 hours that you’d gotten chewed out for not taking proper care of yourself. There was a familiar churning in your gut-- a leaden mixture of guilt and anxiety. Not to mention a dash of adrenaline from being within range of an angry demon. That last one happened a lot around here, though. “Try sayin’ no to people once in awhile! You stretch yourself too thin and eventually there’s gonna be nothin’ left!”

Mammon finally took a breath, letting his shoulders slump as he exhaled. He averted his eyes, his voice much softer when he next spoke. “Besides… I miss ya, Mc. You keep givin’ away your time, and overworkin’ yourself, and all of a sudden… I never see ya anymore.”

His gaze flitted back to your face, and it finally dawned on him just how close he’d gotten. He was nearly pinning you against his pool table at this point. His face turned bright red, and he leapt backwards, crossing his arms to maintain his pride. “A-Anyway! You don’t owe anyone anything. So stop acting like it.”

“I don’t act like--”

“Oi, and don’t interrupt the Great Mammon!”

You rolled your eyes, but conceded. He had been difficult from his very first text tonight, it was probably easier to just humor him at this point.

“Ya play therapist for the house all the time. Ya mediate fights, listen to people’s problems, give out advice when you’re asked-- even when ya don’t know what to say. Maybe it’s about time ya let us know when ya aren’t up to it. I mean, no one's gonna fault ya for takin’ a vacation day.” It wasn’t a perfect metaphor, but it conveyed his point well enough. “The house has been a lot calmer since ya got here. Everybody knows it-- you do too, dontcha?”

It was true that you’d been complimented on your demon-wrangling skills by many people before. ...Including the brothers, oftentimes. “Well, yeah, but you guys should always be able to come to me. I want to be there for you.”

“Well I wanna be there for you, too!” Mammon blurted, looking desperate. Well, until he realized what he said, his expression then switching to panic as he frantically backpedaled. “I mean-- we do! T-They do! Or-- everyone else does, but I-I’ve got better stuff to… Ah, what am I sayin’? We all wanna be there for ya, Mc. But that means when ya have a hard day, and we ask if ya have time... ya gotta say no. How would you feel, if ya learned that we all forced ourselves to be around ya?”

A pang of guilt shot through your chest. “It isn’t like that; you guys aren’t a burden. I want to help--”

“Yeah, and I wanna sell Levi’s expensive shut-in stuff for extra cash, but sometimes ya gotta think about what ya wanna do versus what ya can do. I’m not very… I mean, I dunno about uh, emotions and... all that, but…” Suddenly Mammon’s tsundere thing made a lot of sense; he was a lot better at denial than candor. “Well, ya can’t help us if ya can’t help yourself!”

Again, he had a point. This time he wasn’t being a hypocrite, so it made it harder to come up with a rebuttal. “Everyone has bad days, I don’t have to shut people out whenever I’m not at one hundred percent.”

“Man, you sure are lucky Lucifer has a soft spot for ya. All this back talk would get me in hot water.” Mammon sighed. “Just listen to me for once, wouldja?”

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. He chose to interpret it as a yes.

“I know ya wanna have some free time. And I know ya wanna keep some of your money saved up, whatever it’s for. Well… If sayin’ no is hard for ya, maybe we can start ya off with a test drive.”

“A… test drive...?” Nope, he lost you.

“Y’see, I’ll take the fall tonight. I’m gonna say we’re studyin’. Or that I’m still givin’ ya my peace. But… go back to your room, do whatcha want. Don’t matter what-- homework, sleepin’, whatever. Just don’t let anyone take it from ya. Matter’a fact, if someone asks for ya: practice sayin’ no. If ya gotta give ‘em a reason, tell ‘em it’s my fault.”

“You sure?” He was essentially offering to be your guard dog for the night, which was quite a monumental task-- especially since people already assumed Mammon was at fault for things in general, and wouldn’t hesitate to take their anger out on him.

“Yeah, yeah; just don’t go and think I’m gonna keep doin’ this forever! Ya gotta learn to say no on your own, without me havin’ to do it for you all the time! I got goldie to worry about, I don’t need another credit card overspendin’ itself and-- w-well, I just don’t wanna haveta deal with it if ya run outta money and come cryin’ to-- oi!” You wrapped him in a hug, able to feel the shock run up his spine at your sign of gratitude.

“I-I toldja, I ain’t doin’ it for you!” Mammon protested, but near instantly caved; stealing the chance to hug you back. He puffed out a defeated breath, adding, “I’m gonna watch out for ya human, I mean it. I wanna make sure you can keep gettin’ better, so… If ya ever gotta turn someone down in the future, or tell ‘em no for any reason, and ya can’t bring yourself to do it… You can always tell ‘em it’s on me. I’m your first man, you can always depend on me to help ya out.”

“Thank you, really.” He held you for just a beat longer before he relented, switching back to his brusque demeanor the moment he let go.

“Yeah, yeah, keep thankin’ me and you’re gonna waste all your free time before it even starts. Get outta here already! I got stuff to do too, y’know.” He waved you off, but he was refusing eye contact for a reason.

Leaving Mammon’s room, your steps felt light, and a rush of warmth flooded your chest as you recalled his praise. Sure, it was followed by nagging, or saying it wasn’t always good for you-- but it was definitely nice to hear that the brothers really did think of you as their confidant.

You stood a little taller; almost as if you felt a sense of pride.

#om!#obey me #obey me swd #obey me mammon #om mammon #obey me x reader #obey me mammon x reader #gn!mc #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #sfw #fluff #comfort

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backtobackbakubabe · 3 years

Text

Leaving My Love Behind (part1)

Bakugo X Reader

Words : 2199

Masterlist

Reader hasn’t seen Bakugo in almost ten years but when her boyfriend goes missing she all but begs him to help her find him and get him back from a notorious gang leader.

You had been waiting outside this building for almost six hours now. You had been waiting for a certain blonde-haired asshole. You had to admit you were shocked that he was still working. He had never seemed like the desk job type. But after his most recent rampage he was benched until further notice. It was all over the news, which made it that much easier to find him. You’d wait out here all night if you had to. You just needed to talk to him.

Rain started to come down hard and yet you remained. Your eyelids began to droop and still you waited. Your stubbornness knew no limit… unfortunately your exhaustion did. You leaned against the telephone pole behind you and you hugged your jacket closer around you to fight the chill. Shivers wracked your body, but nothing matched the chill that shot down your spine when you heard a familiar husky voice right behind your ear. “What the fuck do you want?”

You hadn’t even realized he had left the building, let alone crept up behind you. Your tired head turned to look at him. It had been years sense you had seen him in person, and you forgot how haunting those red eyes of his where. You refused to cower in his presence, you wouldn’t let him see how scared you were. “I need your help.”

“Wh-“

“And before you can tell me to fuck off… you owe me one, and we both know it.”

His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. “I haven’t seen you in almost 10 years. You can’t just show up now and expect me to drop everything to help you! I don’t owe you shit.”

You almost expected him to storm off in a fit of rage, but he just crossed his arms and glared at you. Who was this new Bakugo? He still seemed permanently angry except now he seemed to be a little more… patient? No that couldn’t be right. He didn’t have a patient bone in his body. Yet here he stood, waiting to hear you out.

Your hands balled into fists, “Do I need to remind you of the sacrifices I made back in high school. Do you not remember what I did for you? Have you gotten so-“

His hand gripped your elbow tight enough to leave a bruise, “I fucking…. Remember everything. I’ll ask you one more time. What the fuck do you want?”

You pulled your arm away from him. “I need your help… My boyfriend… Kiyo… he’s gone missing.”

His palms popped, “And? Go to the police, file a report? What the hell do you want me to do about it?”

An angry tear ran down your cheek. “You think I haven’t already done that?! He’s been missing for over a month and it seems like nobody even cares!”

“Tch… how do you know he didn’t just run away? What if he was just bored or something?”

Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and slapped him. “How dare you? You don’t know him. He would never! He was kidnapped by gang leader who goes by Big Shadow.”

Bakugo’s eyes bulged and you now had his attention. Big Shadow? That was the guy he was investigating before he was put on desk duty. “So that’s why you’re here? Look I can’t help you. That guy is almost impossible to find and even harder to get to. I spent the past year trying to lock that ass hat up and the only thing I have to show for it are several new scars and a temporary demotion.”

You slumped to the ground, “What do you expect me to do? I can’t just give up on him?”

To your surprise he crouched down next to you. “This sucks…. I’m not good with… you know…”

“Emotion?”

“Yeah…Want to go get a drink or something?”

Your watery eyes met his he held a hand out to you, “Look I don’t like asking twice. If you want to sit here in the cold rain and die of heart break… or pneumonia. Then whatever. But I need a drink and if you want to come… I wont stop you.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes and let him help you up. This really was a different man then the one you used to know.

You silently followed him to some small local bar down the street. You had never been here before, but then again you didn’t spend a lot of time on this side of town. The rent was too high and the people were too busy.

You took your seat across from him at a somewhat hidden booth in the back. Moments later a waitress came with three fireball shots and placed them in front of Bakugo. “Your usual. Do you want anything to eat this time?”

Bakugo looked at you briefly and then back to the waitress, “Yeah it’s probably going to be a long night. Bring out the appetizer platter and… I guess whatever she wants to drink. Let me guess? You still drinking vodka sprites?”

You almost laughed at the memory of the last time you drank with him as stupid high school punks. “Not for a while, but why not? For old times sake…”

So you drank, and drank some more, and ate all the weird bar food that the waitress continued to bring out. By now you were both on the brink of black out. Doing anything to not feel that empty pit in your stomach. “THAT WAS NOT ME! THAT WAS AAAAALL KIRI’S DOING!” You were going down memory lane from UA. You and Bakugo had been pretty close back then. Well that’s a lie. You hated each other at first. And you didn’t end on a good note either. But the middle… the middle had been nice.

“Oi… dumbass. Use your inside voice…”

“Ooooooh don’t tell me THE BAKUGO is telling ME to UsE mY iNsIdE vOiCe.”

Bakugo smirked, “You wanna know my secret?”

You giggled, “Oooooh secret! Yesssss!”

He moved over to your side of the booth and leaned close to you. Close enough for you to smell his cinnamon shampoo… or maybe it was just all the fireball shots. He turned his head to the side and pulled his hair back to show what looked like a hearing aid. “Tech development team made them for me when I signed with the agency. They’re mostly to protect my ears from more damage. You know because of all of the.” He motioned with his hands and made an explosion noise. “But they also help me hear a little better. Now I don’t have to yell all the time.”

You reached out to touch it, but his hand smacked it away, “Oi look but don’t touch!”

You blushed. “I guess that makes sense. I wonder why no one thought of that before. All this time.. you just couldn’t…. hear.” You started to tear up, your happy mood completely gone.

His eyes grew huge, “No, no, no, no, damnit we came here to avoid the tears. Please stop. Ugh shit!”

You leaned on him and continued to cry. “I’m so sorry Bakugo! For the way things ended between us. It’s all my fault. Just like Kiyo being kidnapped is all my fault. Everything is my fault! I’m the worst!”

He patted the top of your head awkwardly, “Uh… I don’t know what happened with yoyo or whatever but what happened with us wasn’t your fault.” His arm landed on your shoulder when you just kept crying, “And for what it’s worth I don’t think you’re the worst. I mean you’re not exactly on my list of favorite people. But there’s a lot of people worse than you. All for one, Overhaul, Dabi, Deku, murderers, rapists, did I mention Deku?”

You slapped his chest, “His name is Kiyo!”

“Noooo I’m pretty sure it’s Deku.”

You sighed, “No you idiot, my boyfriend. You called him yoyo… his name Kiyo… and he’s missing, and I’m just sitting on my ass getting drunk. I’m useless.” You slammed your fist on the table, “But you know what?! With or without your help I’m going after him!”

Bakugo’s hand mindlessly wandered to the scar hidden beneath his t-shirt, “You’re going to get yourself killed y/n. Please think about this. Have you even kept up with your training? I know you didn’t do the whole hero thing after UA… considering what happened. What are you going to do in a fight? Your quirks not really meant for combat.”

You shrugged, “I don’t care. I’m going to get him back. I’m still in shape. I still got the moves.”

Bakugo groaned, “Okay look. I’ll make you a deal. I will help you look for Keto for exactly two weeks. If we find him great, if we don’t you accept it and let the police handle it.”

You grabbed him by the shirt, “You mean it? You’ll help me?”

He winced at your sudden proximity, but you didn’t seem to notice. “Well yeah. If I don’t, I’ll probably end up seeing your picture on the news and honestly that just sounds like a fucking headache that I’m not prepared for. “

You lunged in for a hug, burying your face in his chest. He again just awkwardly patted your head. “For the love of god, please stop.”

Bakugo paid the bill and walked you out. He had planned on walking you home but when he learned how far it was he almost passed out. “Nope. Nuh uh. You can sleep on my couch. Too drunk for this. Let’s go.” When he realized you were walking too slowly for his liking he bent down and told you to hop on his back. “God you’re lighter than I remember.”

You poked his shoulder, “Well you’re nicer than I remember.”

He shrugged, “Time changes a lot of things y/n.”

You walked in comfortable silence for a while. Well he walked, your drunk ass was being carried. You were about to fall asleep when his stiffened, “Hey y/n can I ask you something?”

“Huh? Yeah whatsup?”

His grip around your legs started to tighten, “Why didn’t you use your quirk on me today? I mean you wanted me to do something I didn’t want to. What kept you from using your quirk to make me do it? All it would have taken was a flash of those eyes and a few words and I would have to do whatever you say.”

You let out a loud sigh, “Well for one. How do you know I didn’t? Maybe I’m just sneakier about it now.” He slapped your leg obviously not satisfied with that answer. “Okay chill. I didn’t! I don’t really use that park of my quirk much anymore. I save that for the bad guys. Which you might not be the nicest guy, but you’re definitely not a bad guy.”

He could tell you were fighting sleep as your breathing started to deepen. “What a pair we are. Not the worst, and not a bad guy.”

He managed to get you into his apartment and on to the couch. He got you a glass of water and a blanket. As he was leaving to head to his own room you grabbed his hand. “Hey. Why two weeks?”

If it wasn’t so dark you say he blushed, “That’s just how long my administrative leave is.” His hand ran through his hair, “Let’s just say I was not made for desk duty…” He gave you a smile which warmed your heart while somehow making you very uncomfortable. “Get some sleep y/n, we start operation get Kilo back bright and early.”

“His name is Kiyo!”

“Yeah whatever, stupid name.”

That night you dreamt of the last time you saw Bakugo. You saw your seventeen-year-old self, covered in blood. You saw a cracked reflection in a mirror with glowing purple eyes looking backing at you. You saw-

“Holy SHIT! What the hell is Y/n doing on our couch! BakuBRO! Did you know she was here?”

You groaned at the sudden yelling and bright light coming in through the window. “Kiri can you please shut the fuck up?”

“Oh yeah that’s y/n all right. Seriously Bakugo did you know she was here?”

Bakugo came over with coffee and eggs and placed them on the table in front of you. “Kiri. If we are the only two people who live here. And you didn’t know she was here, then who the fuck do you think let her in?”

Kirishima looked between the two of you, “Damn after all this time and you even made her breakfast?”

After Kiri left for work and you had finished your coffee you looked to the explosive man who was now looking very domestic in the kitchen doing dishes. “Hey, was I drunk, or did you promise to help me find Kiyo?”

Without stopping with his dishwashing, he shrugged, “Yes you were drunk… but yes I also did promise that. I gave you two weeks starting today. So, I suggest you get your ass in gear if you plan to get your money’s worth.”

#bakugo #bakugo katsuki #Katsuki Bakugō #bhna bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x y/n #bakugo imagine #mha #mha imagines #mha bakugo katsuki #mha x reader #my hero academia

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hydrangeaho3 · 3 years

Text

Pt 2 of I’m supposed to be your brother

Summary: Wilbur gets mad at Tommy and somehow Phil’s the one left to deal with the aftermath

a/n: hey everyone!! Here’s part 2. This is the last part of the story.

It’s overwhelming, the silence that surrounds Tommy, on one hand, it’s too loud and on the other, it's not loud enough.

How could have he been so stupid?

He’d told himself over and over again.

They don’t want you around, they don’t find you funny, they just think you’re annoying. The minute you become more annoying than how many views you bring, that's the minute they’ll leave you.

And today it had happened. Wilbur was finally sick of him.

What if that was what everyone thought of him? What if they all just secretly hated him and Wilbur was the only one who had bothered to say it to his face?

He slowly pushed himself out of his chair, shutting down his PC, and closing discord for the night. He crawled into bed just after turning the lights off. He tried to get his mind to shut off after all this was what he had been expecting. Ever since he had been invited to join SMPEarth and had become friends with bigger streamers, he had been dreading this moment.

The moment where he found himself alone and lost in the darkness. Abandoned by all the people he had considered family.

He reaches across to his desk to grab his phone and accidentally brushes his hand against his face. It came away wet.

oh, OH, those were tears. He was crying.

After hours and hours of staring at his ceiling, Tommy finally manages to fall asleep. But before his mind can provide him some solace from the shit day he’s just had, a final thought whispers through his mind.

Why would he say that? He told me that we were brothers.

-----

Tommy wakes up feeling sore, his entire body aching. He rubs his eyes and wonders slightly at the puffiness underneath his eyes before remembering the events of last night.

Oh right, Wilbur had yelled at him last night, well yelled was a nice way to say it. Wil had basically crushed his soul last night.

He sighs before grabbing his phone. The moment he turns the screen on and waits a second for the brightness to adjust, he’s bombarded by notifications. Half of them are from Wilbur. They range from several missed calls to desperate texts that beg him to pick up the phone to finally texts that sound more resigned than anything else, telling Tommy that he’s sorry and to please call him as soon as he can. The rest are from Tubbo, asking him what’s wrong and finally, he has a few surprise texts from Philza and Technoblade telling him to message them if he needs something.

He was about to close his phone and go back to bed when it began to vibrate in his hands. It was Tubbo. He hesitated for just a second before accepting the call.

“Hey Tommy, how are you? I was worried when you didn’t answer any of my texts or calls last night,” Tubbo waited a few moments for Tommy to respond before continuing the conversation by himself.

“umm so Phil told me what happened last night, are you okay? You know Wilbur didn’t mean that right? He was just having a bad day,” Tubbo seems desperate, desperate to convince Tommy that what Wilbur had said wasn’t true. Silence fills the call once again before the sound on Tommy’s end becomes a little too quiet. Tubbo checks his phone and sees that Tommy’s muted himself.

On Tommy’s end, tears start sliding down his face once again. Tubbo’s being so kind but he hadn’t heard Wil last night. He had no way of knowing that Wil had meant exactly what he had said. He tries to gather himself enough so that his voice doesn’t come across as too different.

“um my mom’s calling me Tubbo, I have to go,” Tommy quickly stutters the words out knowing Tubbo will see through his bluff but he needs to get off this call. Tubbo doesn’t deserve this. Tubbo’s always so patient and nice to others, he doesn’t deserve to put up with Tommy’s mess. He manages to press the disconnect button before the tears swarm his vision.

Why is he like this? He just keeps messing up, now Tubbo’s worried when he doesn’t have to be.

He stays in bed for who knows how long before he feels his phone vibrating against his thigh. He turns to see the name Philza Minecraft flashes on the screen. Tommy really doesn’t want to talk to Phil, to the man he considers his second father. He’s going to decline it when his thumb misses because of the tears hindering his vision and ends up pressing accept.

shit shit shit, he doesn’t want to talk to Phil right now.

“Tommy? I know you're there Tommy, Tubbo just told me that he’s talked to you,” when Tommy doesn’t respond, Phil continues to talk, “you don’t have to say anything if you don’t wanna so just listen okay? Last night Wil called me crying and he told me that he had blown up at you for no reason, Tommy he was so upset with himself. He doesn’t mean anything he said okay? He was upset at something else and you just happened to be there. Now you don’t have to forgive him or anything but you have to understand that no one thinks you’re annoying. We love to stream with you, you make our lives so much better Tommy. You’re like family,” It’s those last words that break the dam holding back Tommy’s feelings. A stream of words flow from his mouth.

“Then why would he say that Phil? I know that I can be loud sometimes and- and I talk a lot but I don’t understand. I don’t understand,”

“I’m so sorry Tommy. There’s no excuse for what Wilbur said, all I can tell you is that he feels horrible about it,” At this point, there's nothing Phil wants more than to hug Tommy, to tell him that it would all be okay but he couldn't do that. The most he could do was whisper words of comfort across the phone in hopes that it would be enough.

They sit in silence as Tommy lets Phil’s words wash over him. Tommy’s still hurting; the pain still a heavy feeling in his gut threatening to take over his emotions once again. Somewhere in his mind, he knows that Phil and Tubbo are right but Wilbur’s words are still a force in his mind.

“Tommy, look, I know you probably don’t want to but I think it would make you feel better if you talked to Wilbur. I know you think that he’s probably going to yell at you some more but I can promise you that is not what’s going to happen. All he wants to do is say that he’s sorry.”

At this point, the pain has subsided inside of Tommy. Instead of a blistering heat ready to take over, his hurt has simmered down to a point where he feels comfortable enough to talk to Wilbur. He nods at Phil’s words before remembering that Phil can’t see him.

“umm ya, okay, I can talk to Wilbur,” Tommy’s voice scratches his throat as he speaks, rough from disuse.

“I’ll tell him okay? I’ll let him know to call you. You’re going to be okay,” Phil promises. There’s a slight sound as Phil disconnects from the call. Tommy rolls over onto his side, gathering his blankets around him, burrowing into his makeshift nest.

A couple minutes pass as Tommy lays on his bed sifting over what Phil had told him. He knows that Wilbur does love him and that what he had said had been spur of the moment words but regardless they still hurt. They had taken all of Tommy’s insecurities and fears and confirmed them.

But still, it’s hard to stay mad, he doesn’t like the fact that his chest feels all tight, that the words he so desperately wants to speak are stuck in his throat, and that the person he would have immediately sought out comfort from is now unavailable to him through no fault of his own.

It’s quiet again, the sounds of London traffic subdued through his bedroom window. This quiet he doesn’t mind, it’s nothing like the violent quiet that had settled over him and Wilbur the previous night.

This quiet reminds him of the afternoon he spent in Brighton, the first time he had met Wilbur, or the peaceful afternoons spent talking to Tubbo. The quiet settled something in his gut and Tommy was about to fall asleep before a discord notification dragged him out of his trance. It was Wilbur, Phil must have finally told him to call. Sighing softly to himself, he accepts the call.

“Hey Wil,” he murmurs softly, trying not to disturb the tranquility of his room.

“Toms,” Wilbur breathes, “you answered. I wasn’t sure you were going to. I mean Phil had told me to call and had told me that you would pick up but I still wasn’t sure. “ At this point, Wilbur’s rambling and the familiarity of it all brings an unwanted smile to Tommy’s face.

“Phil told me you were going to call to apologize,”

“Yes, yes I am. I am so sorry Toms. What I said to you was completely inexcusable, it was so out of line and the worst part was that I knew how much those words would hurt you, Tommy. I- i consider you family okay? You’re like the brother I’ve always wanted and I know that the last thing I deserve is your forgiveness and it’s fine if you don’t forgive me. You don’t have to do that. But I need to know that you understand that what I said wasn’t true. Okay, Tommy? You know I was wrong right?”

“I- i don’t know Wil. I mean that’s what everyone says right. Everyone thinks I’m annoying, it’s why Vikkstar quit MCC and why Schlatt kept calling me a kid when we first met. I know that you didn’t mean it but that doesn’t mean it's not true.”

Wilbur’s shocked silent as he processes the bomb that Tommy’s dropped on him. He had known that even though Tommy’s persona was loud and energetic it was different from what the kid was like in real life. But he had never known that Tommy’s self-esteem had dropped so low; that the self-loathing ran so deep.

“Tommy stop. No one and I mean no one thinks you’re annoying. Vikkstar didn’t quit MCC because of you, those two things are completely unrelated. Also, I can promise you that Schlatt doesn’t think you’re a child. Just like you play up your persona during streams, so does he. He thinks you’re a great kid with so so much potential,”

“Then why Wilbur, why would you say that?”

Oh, oh that's what's been bothering Tommy. Not the fact that some of his idols had made fun of him but rather the fact that it had been me making fun of him, throwing his insecurities back at him.

“Oh god, i- i am so sorry. Tommy, I never meant that, please you have to believe me,” even though Tommy can’t see him, he can hear the desperation in Wilbur’s words, “oh god, oh god what have I done?” At this point, Wilbur’s talking to himself.

“Wil?” Tommy questions.

“I’m sorry I really am. You don’t have to sit and listen to me anymore if you don’t want to. It’s just important, really important that you know that it isn’t true. It isn’t true at all.”

Wilbur’s about to click off before he hears a small noise coming from Tommy’s end.

“Wil, I’m not mad, not anymore. I just feel empty; so- so empty. I'm tired Wil,”

At these words Wilbur freezes, he knows what that feels like. He knows how the anger can take over before suddenly evaporating into nothing.

“It gets better Tommy, that emptiness cloying inside of you will slowly go away. I know that right now it hurts, and even more than that, you feel empty. But that's not permanent, I promise.” Wilbur’s voice soothes some of the fears aching in Tommy’s heart.

For the past hours, Tommy’s been told by multiple people how loved and appreciated he is. He’d forgiven Wilbur a long time ago but nonetheless, the fears still persisted. But slowly throughout this call, some of the jagged edges have been smoothed over.

“I’m tired Wil,”

“I know. Go back to sleep Tommy, I’ll be here when you wake up,”

“You promise Wil?”

“Of course Toms, I promise. That’s what family does,”

That’s all the reassurance Tommy needs before falling asleep.

The last words that Tommy manages to catch are enough to ensure a dreamless sleep.

“Goodnight Tommy. I love you”

#fanfic #sleepy bois fanfic #sbi fanfic #mcytsbi #tommy and wilbur #tommyinnit #tommy and tubbo #sbi found family #found family

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kpop-zone · 4 years

Text

Home with you | Sana

Genre: angst (fluff maybe at the end?)

Wordcount: 1,708

Request: hi, can i request something w/ twice’s sana & idol!fem reader? can you also make it angst but w/ a happy ending? thank you so much !

A/N: So I wrote this for a request, but then another request came in that was really similar to this (shoutout to the anon who can apparantely read my thoughts :D), but not quite. So I never posted it. But I couldn’t just delete it, so here it is. Basically, the twin sister of ‘Pieces’ :D

If you could turn back time right in this moment you would. What was it all good for? If you started again and didn’t repeat your mistakes, you could save yourself a lot of pain. But it was your own fault. You knew that you were getting attached to the industry’s biggest flirt, so it was bound to leave you scarred.

Your relationship with Sana started about two years ago and everything was fine in the beginning. You had met because one of your group members, Eunha, was befriended with Sana and one day you all went out for a coffee together. The both of you immediately clicked and the coffee date slowly turned into a real one with Eunha being the third wheel. After that, you exchanged numbers and stayed in contact, despite both of your busy schedules. Because it was known that Eunha and Sana were really good friends, you used the opportunity to go on dates under the pretext that it was just some friends catching up together. It didn’t take long for Sana to ask you to be her girlfriend and you were more than happy to accept.

You should have probably thought about the consequences of dating a fellow idol with no chance to go public a little earlier. Now two years later, all you were left with was a broken heart. It was a gradual process. You knew that Sana was flirty with almost everyone but you in public, because you couldn’t risk anyone getting suspicious. It was easy for you to accept her being touchy with her fellow members. You knew that they basically spent their entire youth together and that this created a bond for life.

But when Sana started to flirt with people outside her group, the jealousy began bubbling inside of you. You didn’t want to be unfair though, so you let it go. It was simply Sana’s personality and you trusted her, you thought to yourself. She would never cheat on you. They were nothing more but friends. Even if fans were going crazy and started shipping Sana with all kind of idols. You tried to not let yourself get soaked into all of this gossip.

At one point, however, things were getting out of hand. Sana was getting particularly touchy with only one idol. Jungkook. During award shows BTS and Twice would always stand next to each other, giving them the chance to interact. Being two of the most popular groups, fans started shipping Sana and Jungkook immediately after they were seen joking around together. You didn’t think much of it at first, but slowly, you couldn’t help but think that Sana even enjoyed being shipped with him.

Normally, she wouldn’t do anything to fire up rumors, but this time, it seemed like she wanted to cause a scandal. Doing aegyo for him, batting her eyelashes and pretending to be flustered about the things he whispered into her ears. And all you could do was stand right next to her. Watching her flirt with other people, if just playful or serious. And it hurt. It hurt because she didn’t even try to consider your feelings and it hurt because you knew that this could never be the two of you. And so you felt your heart gradually crumbling.

The last straw, however, only happened barely an hour ago. You were actually on your way to your girlfriend, browsing the internet in the back of the car, when one particular headline spread like a wildfire on all important news pages:

“Twice’s Sana and BTS’ Jungkook spotted on a date.”

You were slightly chuckling to yourself, thinking it was just another clickbait, but when you clicked on one article, you couldn’t believe your eyes. There were pictures showing your girlfriend on what seemed like an actual date with Jungkook. They were taking a walk in a park, all bundled up to hide from the paparazzi, but actually making them even easier to spot.

What was Sana doing?

Just when you were about to read the article, your cellphone rang: Sana.

Of course she would call now. But you didn’t want to see her right now, even less so talk to her. You rejected her call and told your driver to bring you to a nearby park instead. You needed to clear your head. As you were walking around, you reflected Sana’s and your relationship. Where did it all go wrong? Or was it maybe wrong from the beginning? Maybe it was simply a lost cause. You sat on a bench, burying your head into your jacket as far as you could to protect yourself from the cold. You were about to make a decision whether it was time to end this game, when you could hear steps from behind,

“Y/N?”

You heard the soft voice from your girlfriend. You didn’t need to turn around to know that she had been crying. The sadness in her voice was not to ignore. But you didn’t bother to turn around.

“Y/N.”

She repeated another time, making her way around the bench, ending up crouching down in front of you with her hands supporting herself on your legs.

“Please listen to me.”

She whispered while some tears were leaving marks on her cheeks. You were just too tired. You gave your all into this relationship and you were empty now. You wanted to leave, but you were even too tired to do that. So you stayed, not looking into your girlfriend’s eyes.

“It’s not what it looks like, Y/N. I promise.”

She sobbed.

“Please just look at me.”

She took your chin softly into her hand, turning it to face her. Her puffy eyes hurt you. After all this time. After the flirting, the shipping and the rumors. After everything, the thing that could still hurt you the most, was your girlfriend being sad.

“I love you, Y/N. You know I do.”

You laughed mockingly at Sana’s words.

“Oh do you now? How could you have taken your flirting then far enough that there are actual pictures of you with him?”

You spat out, now feeling your own tears stinging in your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I never meant for it to go this far.”

She cried out, now starting to cling to your jacket as if she needed something to hold on to in order to not lose it completely.

“It didn’t mean anything to me. You have to believe me. I only want you.”

She tried to reach out to your face, but you flinched to avoid her touch.

“I don’t care anymore, Sana. What are we even doing? Our relationship is leading to nowhere. The sooner we get that, the more pain we can safe us.”

You stood up, causing Sana to lose her balance and almost tumbling over, but she caught herself the last second, sprinting behind you instead and getting a hold of your arm. You had to turn around to get rid of Sana’s hand, but the moment you were facing her, she pressed her lips against yours. You stumbled back in surprise.

“Sana! What the hell are you doing? We could be seen!”

“I don’t care. Then let them see us. I’m dating you. No one else.”

She responded, while getting a hold of your neck again, trying to pull you into another kiss.

“Sana stop! Can’t you see? It’s too late. If I were important to you, you wouldn’t go on dates with other people.”

You yelled at her, now 100% sure that you drew the attention of the other park visitors to you.

“It wasn’t a date! It was all a PR stunt to promote our comeback. To draw attention to us.”

She huffed defeated, massaging her temples in frustration.

“I know this isn’t an apology. And it isn’t supposed to be one. I behaved like an asshole, I know that. I should have declined the proposition or at least talked with you about it. So you can call me a bad girlfriend, but don’t ever doubt my feelings for you!”

She begged you, while you were staring at her in disbelief.

“Why didn’t you talk with me about it?”

You wondered out loud.

“Because this was all I wanted for us. I wanted people to ship us, because we couldn’t keep our eyes to ourselves at award shows. I wanted the paparazzi to chase behind us to be able to reveal pictures of us kissing. I wanted us to have the chance of a real relationship that didn’t only exist behind closed doors. I just wanted to know how all of this felt like.”

Tears silently fell from your eyes. How could you be mad at her for this? It would be selfish to hold her back from what she wanted.

“I guess, I should let you go then. I want you to be happy, Sana. You should have everything you want.”

You said silently, not wanting to hear your own words, because they felt like blades cutting you open.

“But I don’t want to have a relationship if it’s not with you!”

Sana yelled at you. Your sobs where making your whole body shake by now, making Sana wrap her arms around you, holding you close.

“I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. Or did I already?”

She asked searching for your eyes once you had calmed down a bit.

“No.”

You whispered, now it being you who grabbed a fistful of her coat to have something to hold on to. She pulled you closer by your neck, your noses touching.

“I’m going to be better. I swear.”

You nodded hardly noticeable.

“Let’s just leave for a while. Only the two of us. Let’s fix this. Us.”

She pleaded while pulling at your clothes in desperation.

Normally you would be rational right now. You were idols, you couldn’t just leave. But right now, you didn’t care. You decided to pretend for a while. Like you actually could steal a few weeks to fix what was broken between Sana and you. You just wanted to go somewhere with her. You didn’t care where. Everywhere with Sana was home.

#twice scenario #twice #sana scenario #sana #girl group scenario #girl group #kpop scenario

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

Curtains - Part 4

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Roger x Reader

Summery: You turn Roger down

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst, an argument with some very mean words, rough sex, choking, badly handled Feelings

Words: 4,192 (longest chapter so far)

A/N: penultimate chapter is a bit of a downer lmao

Taglist (though notifications don’t seem to be working so hopefully ya’ll see this): @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks

@bohemiansweede @rogershoe @lnnuend0 @funitrog

You’d managed to avoid Roger for a solid three weeks. It hadn’t been easy considering you went to the same uni and lived next door to each other and you still hadn’t hung your curtains, but you’d been managing alright. There’d been a lot of ducking into bathrooms or around corners when you saw him on campus. A lot of studying on your couch rather than in your room to avoid him knocking at your door again. A lot of leaving early and sneaking home when you knew he’d be playing at the pub or else crashing on friend’s couches when possible. Anything to avoid Roger and the questions he was sure to have about your cancelled date.

The night he’d asked you out had been a sleepless one despite what you’d told him, your brain keeping you up with misgivings about dating Roger. Sex with him was one thing but an actual date was a whole different ballgame, one you weren’t sure you wanted to play. You needed more time to think, weigh up what you wanted. Did you enjoy being around Roger? Or did you just like that he could get you off? Most of your conversations had happened just before you slept together, while you were too horny to think straight, or just after, while you were coming down from the high. Which made it hard to know if you actually liked him, or it was just the endorphins talking. He seemed sweet enough, if a little full of himself, from what you knew about him, but really he was a giant question mark. He might be a complete arsehole. Or a control freak. He might be a serial womanizer. Or a serial killer. So you’d called it off, the day after he’d asked you out. A purposeful accidental meeting on his way out of the house. It had taken hours of sitting by your front door, changing your mind over and over again as you waited for him to step outside and head towards his van. A small wave to get his attention and then, when he’d smiled and greeted you, an apologetic look and some bullshit about a family situation meaning you weren’t going to be able to see him on Saturday. The lack of sleep might actually have helped you sell your story. He’d looked disappointed but not half as disappointed as he was a minute later when he tried to reschedule, and you said you’d have to get back to him with a day that worked. Since then you’d done everything in your power to not see him. Ostensibly so you could think things through, give yourself some time to work out what you actually wanted, though the reality of it was closer to making excuses and hiding. Sometimes literally hiding. He’d come over a few times, sending you scurrying for cover in your bathroom. You’d found notes each time, once or twice accompanied by a flower, saying he really wanted to talk with you. You stopped reading them after the third one, though you didn’t throw them out. Just left them in a pile on your coffee table, waiting for you to get curious enough to take a peek. And now it had all gone to shit because you’d forgotten to account for his dumb friends.

“Y/N, can you just tell me what’s going on?” Freddie asked you, having cornered you on campus before you could think to escape his notice. You hadn’t even considered Freddie or anyone besides Roger wanting to talk to you about it. “Sorry Freddie but it’s really none of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got t-” “Rog has been really bummed out since you cancelled on him. Moping around, playing the worst fucking music. Constantly, for two and a half weeks now. Just rubbish record after rubbish record. I think that entitles me to an explanation of what the hell happened between you.” “It just didn’t feel right,” you shrugged. “But fucking in the pub bathroom did?” “That’s different,” you said, annoyed that he was inserting himself in your business, judging your actions, “The sex was just sex, I never signed up to get involved. Besides, Roger isn’t the sort of guy I date.” “Bullshit,” “What? You think because I'm shy and find it hard to approach men that I can’t have a casual fling? That I’m so desperate for attention I’ll say yes to anyone?” “Darling you don’t have a monopoly on being shy,” He paused for a moment, eyeing you up, “Everything you just said is rubbish.” “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting indignantly for Freddie to continue. “It’s got nothing to do with things not feeling right or whatever else you’ve told yourself. It’s because you’re scared. I know you were scared to approach him when you moved in and you were scared to make a move on him at the pub. I saw you, hoping he’d notice you. And we all saw you after the show the other week, laughing at his jokes and all those little smiles when you thought no one was looking. You turned him down because you got scared.” “Fuck off Freddie. We hung out one time, you don’t know me and frankly neither does Roger.” “Isn’t that the point of going on a date though? To get to know each other?” “Maybe I don’t want him to know me. He only thinks he’s interested because I’ve been sleeping with him. As soon as it stops being fun or he finds someone new, he’ll ditch me.” “You need to give Roger more credit than that.” “No, what I need to do is get to class,” you pushed past him. Freddie's voice followed you as your stormed off, “Fine, Y/N, but can you at least talk to Roger about it?” You threw him the V over your shoulder as you walked away.

Still stewing over everything Freddie had said, you didn’t pay any attention to where you were walking. Wanker, you thought to yourself, what’s it to him anyway. Not my problem Roger’s in a shitty mood and has crap taste in music. Says a handful of sentences to me while we hung out in the van one time and he thinks he knows a single thing about me. Thinks he can butt into my business. It’s got nothing to do with him if I never see Roger again! You spent the next few minutes cursing Freddie and coming up with a list of things you wished you’d said to him, only stopping when you realised you were standing outside your front door, yelling a single, loud, “SHIT” into the air. That summed it up really. Shit. Everything was shit. Missing a class you really should have been at was shit, being cornered and read like a fucking book by Freddie was shit, not seeing Roger was shit. You decided to call the day what it was – a total fucking lost cause – and have a nap. Your bag thumped against the floor where you dropped it by the door, your shoes making equally loud bangs as you kicked them across the room. The small pile of notes still sat on the coffee table, taunting you, but you ignored it heading stright to your room. You shimmied out of your jeans and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over your head to block out the sun streaming in through the curtain-less door. God I've really got to fix that.

Just as you got settled you heard a tapping against the glass. You screwed your eyes shut, having a feeling you knew who causing the racket, and willed him to go away. He didn’t. Instead he tapped louder, his voice muffled by the glass as he called your name. “Y/N, I know you’re in there! I heard you swearing!” You buried your head under your pillow, trying to block him out. The constant tapping alone was getting on your nerves, never mind his voice. “I can fucking see you moving around! Can you please just talk to me?” “Go away Roger!” “Not until you talk to me!” “For fucks sake,” you hissed under your breath before throwing the covers back, “Fine!” You strode towards the door, yanking it open, “Fine, let's talk then.” “Drop the attitude Y/N. You’re the one who blew me off and then fucking disappeared for weeks, I just want to know why.” “Take the hint Roger, I don’t want to date you.” “Jesus, yeah I got that. Why are you being such a cunt about it though?” You stared at him for a few seconds, stung though you knew he was right. “Well? Are you going to say something, or just stand there?” You decided on neither, moving to shut the door in his face but he was too quick, wincing as it his his shoulder. “No, you owe me an explanation Y/N,” he said pushing the door wide enough to get inside, “What did I do? Something happened between me leaving and the next day when you cancelled and I want to know what the fuck it was,” “I came to my senses that’s what happened,” you stood your ground even as he invaded your personal space and a voice screamed in the back of your head to just stop and be honest. Roger shook his head, “You think you’re being so fucking clever, don’t you? Well you’re not. You’re just being a bitch.” “You don’t know me, Roger. You think cos we fucked a few times you know a single goddamn thing about me but you don’t.” “I had it right the first time.” “What?” “The first time I fucked you. Left as soon as I’d finished with you, that was the right idea. All that hanging around after shit was a waste of time.” “Yeah well, if you ask me none of it was worth it. Should have realised after the first time you weren’t a good enough fuck anyway. “That's bullshit and we both know it. Do you have any idea how fucking pathetic you looked, how desperate, waiting for me to notice you? One fucking word was all it took to have you spread your legs for me, and in a room full of strangers no less. Literally begged to suck me off last time, like a proper slut. You’re the easiest pussy I ever got, Y/N. And It was stupid of me to think you were worth more than the time it took me to cum.” “That’s how you feel is it?” “Yeah, it is,” “Really?” “Yes.” His voice was dripping with contempt as he glared at you.

There was a beat as Roger seemed to realise what he’d said, eyes widening in horror and then your hands were at his fly, nails catching against the denim as you almost tore the button off in your haste. “Y/N wh-” “Shut up and fuck me,” He still looked a little shocked as you made to pull his shirt off. “Jesus, do I have to do everything,” That reignited his frustration and he managed to do what you couldn’t, tearing a few of the buttons from your shirt, sending them scattering across the floor, as he pulled it open to reveal your breasts. You got a hand into his pants, tugging at him as he pushed you towards your bed, door left standing open behind him. There was no time to think, no time to talk. One minute you’d been cursing at each other and the next you were lying on your back with Roger roughly pulling you towards the edge of the mattress. He let go of you long enough to get his pants down, moving your underwear to the side as he lined himself up. Your back arched when he entered you and you gasped as he paused. “Fucking move, arsehole,” “Still a pathetic slut,” he growled back bringing a hand to your throat as he leaned over and rammed into you. He’d been rough with you before but not like this. Careless. Inconsiderate. Brutal. Roger found a harsh rhythm and stuck to it, tightening his grip on your throat whenever you opened your mouth to hurl another insult his way. You grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin which only seemed to inspire a rougher treatment. He didn’t bother to rub your clit, made no attempt to hold off his own orgasm and let you catch up. Left it up to you to get there or not. The familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was only beginning to build when he grunted in your ear, hips stuttering. He left you feeling empty and unsatisfied, tucking himself away as you sat up and stared. There was a moment of quiet, both of you breathing heavily, watching the other. “That’s exactly why I cancelled,” you said softly. You could feel your chest tightening, eyes prickling, but you were determined not to break down in front of Roger. His shoulders slumped as he looked at you, absentmindedly raking his fingers through his hair, “Y/N, I’m, fuck, that wasn’t-“ “Get out,” Your voice was steady. “That’s not how I wanted it to go. I didn’t mea-" “Just get the fuck out of here Roger.” He gave you a final apologetic look before flinging himself out of the door and disappearing around the corner. You held yourself together just long enough for him to leave and then you sunk to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, tears falling onto them and rolling down your legs as your body shook with sobs. You hoped he could hear, door still standing open. You hoped the whole fucking street could hear.

Over the next few days the fight was all you could think about. He, thankfully, hadn’t left any bruises or marks on your throat, but there was a dull pain where he’d thrust into you so roughly, like he’d bruised your insides. A constant reminder of what happened, not that you needed one. You heard Roger’s taunts almost in a loop, each word drilling into your skull. A cunt. Easy. Pathetic. Every time you closed your eyes you saw him, glaring at you, spitting out how little he thought of you. But the hurt settled into a bitter vindication. So much for Freddie’s faith in Roger, you’d been right after all. Maybe you didn’t go about it the cleanest way but you’d done the right thing. You saw hide nor hair of Roger, not even so much as a glimpse of him on campus, though Freddie and Brian both tried to trap you. From what you could gather, they knew you and Roger had fought but knew nothing of the specifics. Every time you passed them they tried to stop you, but you ignored them, walked away as they yelled after you that Roger was sorry. “He’s really fucking torn up about whatever he said to you,” Brian said softly, catching your arm as you walked home, “I keep catching him mumbling to himself about it. He swears he didn’t mean it, whatever he said.” “Sounded like he meant it,” you wrenched your arm free and doubled your pace until you reached the safety of your living room. Eventually they stopped, giving up on trying to convince you, and you thought it was done.

Until the day you got home from an evening class to find Roger sitting cross legged in front of your door. You stopped in your tracks, “What are you doing here?” Roger jumped to his feet, dusting his hands off on the back of his jeans, “I Just want to talk,” he held up his hands like someone in a movie, trying to prove they didn’t have any weapons. “I don’t want to talk.” The people in the movies usually had a knife or something hidden up their sleeve. “Please, Y/N? I’m really sorry about what happened last time. I understand if you never want to see me again and if that’s the case then I’ll leave you alone after today. But I’d like to have a better goodbye than that.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you considered him. Part of you wanted to tell him where to stick his apology. But he did look genuinely upset and sorry and you felt guilty, knowing the part you’d played, “Fine. Can you move so I can open my bloody door?” “Actually,” he glanced next door, “I was hoping we could go for a drive. The other three are home and I don’t want them to overhear.” “Worried they’ll take my side?” “No. It’s just none of their business. So, do you mind?” On one hand, a bit of privacy would probably be good and being elsewhere might stop another scene from erupting. On the other, though, it was harder to tell Roger to fuck off if he was your ride home. “We wouldn’t go far, just away from here.” He looked over at his place again. “Yeah, okay,” You said quietly. Roger gave you a small smile, and held his hand out in an after you gesture, letting you lead the way to his van.

The drive was almost silent. Music had started playing as the engine came to life but Roger turned it off before you could hear more than a few notes of the melancholy tune. “Not your usual sound,” you said, awkwardly trying to make small talk. “Spose not.” You didn’t know what to say. Neither, it seemed, did Roger. Luckily, he didn’t go much further than a few blocks, pulling into the carpark of the local park. Usually the place would be crawling with children, screaming at each other and their parents. But now that the sun had set it was virtually deserted. A few people taking their dogs for late walks passed by as he backed the van into a spot. “Let’s sit in the back, more space,” Roger said climbing through and opening the back doors. “No instruments tonight?” “Nah, not tonight.” Another small smile as he helped you through. You settled in the doorway, legs pulled in close to your body, taking up as little space as you could manage. Roger sat opposite, chewing on his lip as he turned his head to stare out over the dark park. “I am very sorry about what I said the other day,” he looked at you and then back towards the pond, “I had an idea of what I wanted to happen except it didn’t go that way. I got pissed off and just wanted to hurt you.” “Mission accomplished.” “I know. Haven’t stopped thinking about it since. The second I left and h-heard you crying, I wanted to turn the clock back and undo it all. It was so cruel. Everything I said, did, was just needlessly cruel and I cannot apologise enough. I didn’t mean any of it. “I know you didn’t mean it. Don’t get me wrong, it sucked but I pushed you on purpose,” You let your eyes wander over Roger’s face, watching his reaction, “I wanted to hear you say something like that. And then I instigated the sex because doing it confirmed what you’d said. It was just a way to prove I was right to not go out with you. Make myself feel better about being so horrid to you.” He sighed, bring a hand up to rub the back of his neck “Like I said, not how I wanted it to go.” You both stopped, waiting for the other to say something, though when it became clear Roger wasn’t going to continue, you stepped up. “Guess I was looking for a fight. Freddie caught me off guard earlier, standing up for you, so I was already pissed off. I would have had a crack at just about anyone who came past but seeing you just made it worse,” you let yourself relax a bit, one leg slipping down to dangle out of the van, “We can talk now though. Promise I won’t bite your head off.” “I just want to understand why you changed your mind. That’s all. Not to try and convince you to change it back or anything, I just want to know if something I did upset you or…” “It wasn’t anything you did, Rog.” He nodded, looking a little relieved, “Can I ask what it was then?” “Yeah, umm” you sighed, trying to find the right words, “When you asked me out and I said yes, I was still on this high from the whole night. Hanging out with you and your mates was fun and fucking you in the pub was fun. And then you kissed me, which I wasn’t expecting. You’d never kissed me before. So going out with you seemed like a good idea. But then as soon as I was alone again, I freaked out about it. Freddie was right. He called me out for being scared and he was right.” “Scared of what?” “Everything? I don’t know. Scared you’d only asked me cos you’d been drinking or so I’d keep sleeping with you. Scared of getting hurt when you realised you didn’t really like me. Scared that one date would lead to two would lead to a serious fucking relationship. I panicked and decided it was easier to cut everything off thank risk anything. I handled this whole thing appallingly didn’t I?” “Yeah, little bit.” “Sorry.” You both fell into silence again. Roger’s brow was furrowed as he looked at his own fingers. You stared out at the pond, the stars reflected in the water blurring the longer you went without blinking.

It started to rain softly, the drops tapping against the roof of the van. You barely noticed the drops splashing onto your ankle or the chill wind that accompanied the shower, too caught up in your own head, trying to work out how to fix the situation you’d tangled yourself and Roger in. “Shit, you’re shivering,” Roger said, breaking through the mess of thoughts swirling round your head, “I think I have a blanket back here somewhere.” You watched, rubbing your arms to try and fend off the cold you’d only just noticed. “Here,” Roger said at last, throwing a fuzzy blanket over your shoulders, “Wrap yourself up in that,” “Aren’t you cold too?” you glanced at the t-shirt he wore. “Nah, I’ll be right,” “We could share,” “I don’t want to overstep,” “You wouldn’t be. Plus the extra body heat might help me warm up faster,” “Are you sure you’re okay with it?” “Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Roger scooted closer, pausing before he came closer again, testing the waters. When he reached you he pulled the blanket around his own shoulders, one arm falling behind you so he was pressed in close. “Definitely warmer,” you said, leaning your head against his chest, ready to spring back up if he said anything. It felt nice to be so close to him again, without the anger of the last time. “I did mean it, when I asked you out. It was a genuine request not some ploy to keep sleeping with you or whatever. Just so we’re clear.” You nodded, leaning into him. Without thinking you began tracing your fingers over his wrist, following some marks you couldn’t see properly. There was a pang of guilt as you realised your nails had left them there. “It doesn’t hurt,” he said softly, reading your mind, “probably deserved it. Did I hurt you?” “A bit yeah." He shifted your hair, trying to see any signs of how he’d squeezed your throat. “Not there.” “Oh, Y/N,” he held you tighter, wrapping his second arm around you, pulling you against him, “I’m so sorry,” “It’s okay Rog. Only hurt for a couple of days. And if anyone should apologise more it’s me. I was a cunt and you didn’t deserve how I treated you.” “It’s okay. I get why. But why don’t we make an agreement to stop going in circles apologising to each other and put it behind us, if we can.” “Go back to before?” You asked slowly, sitting up to look at Roger, trying to get a feel for what he was hoping for, “Hooking up casually?” “If that’s what you want, I can do casual. We don’t have to though; I’d be happy to just be friends, or whatever. As long as we’re not fighting anymore.” “Friends would be good. But maybe you should try asking me out again? If you’re still interested?” “Really? I don’t want you to feel obligated to say yes out of guilt or because you want to make it up to me.” “Ask me,” This time when he spoke there was no hesitation, “Do you want to go out with me sometime?” “I’d really like that.” Roger tilted your head towards him. He paused, looking into your eyes. And then, when he was satisfied with whatever he saw there, he kissed you. Softly, one arm around your waist, the other resting on your cheek.

#my writing #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #I really love writing this series #but im highkey worried this chapter is too out of place #or that it'll feel like it doesn't make sense or came out of nowhere #I hope it doesn't #anyway theres one more chapter to come #and i know exactly what's going to happen #and how it's going to end #and im very much looking forward to writing it #and now to press post #.....#here we go! posting!#just gotta move the mouse over to post and click on it #stop stalling and post it #if it flops i'll delete and rewrite it

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marwritesgood · 5 years

Text

Collateral | O. Diaz

Pairing: Oscar x Matinez!Reader

Timeframe: Post-Season One

Summary: When Y/n’s life is placed in jeopardy, everyone she loves is worried sick. Especially since it isn’t just her life on the line.

A/N: This imagine is pretty intense, so please just keep that in mind before reading. Am also considering writing a second part, so tell me what you think x

“Does it show?”

I looked at Oscar through his reflection in my full-length mirror. He had spent the night at my apartment, and was lounging on my bed, watching me intently as I got ready for Olivia’s quinceanera.

“Baby, you’re only a few months along,” he laughed, his smile growing wider as I rubbed my stomach. “- And I still don’t get why this is something you need to hide.”

As he spoke, he slowly got up from my bed and stood behind me, snaking his arms around my waist placing light kisses on the crook of my neck.

“It’s not that I wanna hide my pregnancy,” I began, turning and and looking Oscar in the eye. “Olivia’s just had a rough couple of months... Today should be about her. But, as soon as the Quinceanera is over, I will tell everyone, okay?”

“Whatever you say, babymama,” he whispers, before leaning in and kissing me softly. As he pulls away, I scrunch my nose at him.

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” I said, before wrapping my arms around his neck. He pulls me closer and smiles. He did a lot of that- smiling and holding me close to him, even more so after we found out we were expecting our first child together. It was definitely something I could get used to.

“I’m just excited,” he murmured. “And I like knowing your my babymama... I like knowing we’re gonna be parents soon.”

And I liked it too. I really really did.

******

After Olivia and her court made their entrance, Cesar was helping me bring out the last platters of food to my mum, who was organising where everything was going.

“Are you sure you’re okay carrying that?” He asked, as I reached to pick up the last platter of quesadillas. “Because I can finish it up, so you can rest. I read that heavy lifting isn’t good for the-”

“Cesar, I will be fine,” I reassured him. “It’s just a plate of quesadillas. You and your brother are way too much alike, I swear.”

He picks up the last platters and follows me to where the food table was. People were already dancing in the middle of our driveway, my abuelita included.

“But, forreal, Y/n, if there’s anything I can do to make this whole thing easier-”

“Make what thing easier?”

My mother turned around abruptly, and snuck her way into our conversation. As she took the patters off our hands and organised them on the table, she managed to maintain eye contact with either me or Cesar throughout.

“Uh-”

As soon as Cesar spoke, I shot him a look and shook my head subtly. He nods and turns back to my mother, who was waiting for a reply from one of us.

“He means cleaning up,” I answered. “- After the qunices... Remember how I said I would help clean up, mami?”

“Oh... okay,” she replies, before turning her attention back to a distant relative who made their way over. I quickly pulled Cesar aside.

“I’m telling them after this is over, Cesar,” I began. “So can you please please not tell anyone for the next twelve hours? I want them to hear it from me.”

“Got it,” he nodded, before smirking at me. “Anything for my brother’s babymama.”

“Okay, whatever,” I laughed, before nudging his shoulder lightly. “Don’t have a certain Mose to be dancing with? I think they’re gonna be playing a slow song soon.”

As he walked away and headed towards where Monse was standing, I went back inside to get a head-start on cleaning the dishes. My mother had been cranky the entire week, so the least I felt I could do was make her workload as small as possible.

As I turned to grab the rest of the dirty dishes from the kitchen table, I noticed a hooded figure heading towards the entrance to where the dance floor was. Whenever you see something like that happen on our block, the first thing you need to do is warn the people who might be in harms way.

So I quickly headed towards where everyone was gathered, and I tried to look for where the hooded figure was walking. And then I found him, heading straight towards where Ruby, Olivia, Monse and Cesar were dancing. I knew instantly, then, who the figure was.

Racing straight towards where the kids were dancing, I pulled Ruby behind me and instinctively shielded him from getting in harms way.

“Cesar!” Ruby yells, prompting Cesar to pull Monse behind him.

Latrelle pulled out an object from inside his jacket, and before I realised what he was about to do, a loud noise sounded throughout the perimeter and I felt a strong burning sensation on my right shoulder.

“Mija!”

The last thing I remember seeing was my mom racing towards me, and my brother cradling my head. Everything else became darkness in what felt like a spilt second.

******

As everyone fled the scene, either to follow the ambulance that carried Y/n, or to rush home to safety, Cesar sat on the steps of the Martinez’s front porch and waited for his older brother to arrive. Needless to say he was terrified of what was about to happen. And rightfully so.

“Cesar, I am gonna kill you.”

Never in his life had he ever seen his brother so angry. But Cesar understood why. Hell, he was just as angry at himself. It was because of him that the lives of his brother’s soulmate and their firstborn were on the line.

“Oscar, I’m so sorr-”

Before he could finish crying out an apology, Spooky’s fist collided with his jaw.

“The one time, Cesar.” Oscar’s voice began to crack, something Cesar was not unfamiliar with, but knew was a significant sign. He really messed up. “The one time I count on you for something, you let me down.”

“I know, I’m so so-”

“No.” Oscar kissed his teeth loudly and aggressively kicked the rocks on the pavement. “You fucked up, Cesar. You fucked up really bad.”

“What do I do, Oscar?” At this point he was begging. Begging for his brother to do what he had done his whole life: save him and clean up his mess. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“You can’t do anything,” Oscar replied monotonously. “Come pick your stuff up from the crib tomorrow, and don’t ever show your face to me again... You’re done.”

“No,” Cesar cried, following after his older brother like a lost puppy. “Please. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t know this would happen. Please just help me fix this. Please, Oscar.”

With fought back tears and a lump in his throat, Oscar turned around and engulfed his little brother in a hug.

“I love you, mana,” he whispered. “But you’re on your own.”

******

The next thing I saw was the ceiling of my hospital room. After a few more days of being in the hospital, I was finally discharged and my parents brought me home where I agreed to stay until I felt safe and well enough to go back to my apartment.

“Thank goodness you and the baby are okay,” my abuelita commented, as she tucked me into bed. The same bed Olivia used. I never wanted to leave home as much as I did when I found out that’s where I would be crashing until I healed up. “I can’t believe I’m gonna. be a great-grandmother.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna be a Grandmother,” my mother chimed in, as she began unpacking my hospital bags into the drawers.

“I didn’t want you guys to find out this way,” I muttered, as I leaned back against the headboard. “Are you... Are you two mad?”

Before the twins were born, I was the only girl in my family. With that in mind, both my mother and grandmother have always held high expectations when it came to me and my future. As much as I loved Spooky, and loved the fact that we were gonna be bringing life into the world, it would mean just as much to me to know that they were okay with this too.

After exchanging looks with one another, my mother sighed before placing my clothes down and sitting on the edge of the bed. Abuelita does the same.

“Of course we aren’t, mija,” my mom whispers, before gently grabbing hold of my hand. “Do we think this maybe could’ve happened a bit later in your life, sure. But, with everything that’s happened, and everything we’ve been through... Mija, you are so strong, and courageous.”

“You don’t have to-” I began, wiping the tears away from my eyes.

“I saw what you did for your brother that night,” she whispered. “You’re gonna be an amazing mother, and I cannot wait to meet my grandchild.”

“-and great-grandchlid,” Abuelita added.

They both leaned towards me for a hug, before pulling away after hearing Ruby knock on my door. After they let go of me, we all turned to the doorway. There, we saw Oscar holding a duffel bag and a bowl from the Chinese takeaways places located across from my apartment.

“We’ll give you some privacy,” my mother whispered, before following Ruby and Abuelita out the door. “- Pero, keep the door open! One grandbaby is enough.”

I rolled my eyes, and sat up, before patting the empty space next to me so Oscar could sit down. I hadn’t seen him since I first woke up in the hospital. It was needless to say I missed him. Very much.

“I got you that combo you like,” he explained, before placing the bowl of food on the nightstand. “I know it’s one of your cravings.”

“How’d you figure that out?” I asked, smiling at how much attention he paid to the little details. I always appreciated that about him. It showed a lot.

“You used to like the other combo, remember?” He smiled, before reaching for my hand. I did remember. “Then, when you became my babymama you started getting this one... Like everyday.”

“I missed hearing you call me that,” I whispered. “How come you didn’t come visit me the past few days?”

I was asking more out of concern than anything else, but it still did hurt not seeing him, even if it was just for a few days.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said, crinkling his eyebrows at the realisation that he hurt me, even if it was unintentional. “I... had to deal with some things.”

“Yeah... like the truce?” Oscar raised his eyebrows. Shocked that I knew about it so quickly. “Jamal kept me company in the hospital, before I was discharged this morning.”

He laughed, and continued to rub his thumb across the back of my hand. I stared at our hands intently for a while, until I noticed the faint trace of bruising along his knuckles. I had a small idea as to who he might have punched.

“You kicked Cesar out didn’t you?”

He coughed lightly, and straightened his posture, which gave me more than enough answer.

“Spooky, c’mon, he never meant for this to happen.”

“It’s done, Y/n.” His mind was already made up, and I knew better than to try and convince his stubborn ass to think otherwise. I also knew he would come around eventually. He loved Cesar too much to just leave him out in the cold.

I did too.

*****

It was New Years Eve, and around about a month since Olivia’s quinceanera. I had excused myself from the party going on at home, because I noticed a familiar figure standing in front of the memorial we made to Olivia outside of our gates.

Cesar was standing in front of her photo, with his head down and tear running down his cheeks. I slowly walked behind him and draped my blanket over his shoulder.

“How many times have I told you to wear something warm when you’re out at night?” I whispered, catching him by surprise.

He looked different. Like the light had been sucked out his soul. It broke my heart to see him like that.

“Y/n? What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t catch a cold,” I joked, before wrapping my arm around him for extra warmth. “And also making sure you don’t enter the New Year alone.”

“Wh-why?” He seemed to be genuinely confused. “After everything, I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

“Cesar...”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he cried, looking at his feet. “It’s my fault all of this happened. It’s my fault you got shot. It’s my fault Olivia...”

“Hey, stop that,” I murmured, before lifting his chin up and holding his face with both of my hands. The way I used to with Mario and Ruby whenever they would get overwhelmed. Which happened a lot. “Cesar, this was not your fault... None of it.”

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do.” Without thinking twice, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into a hug. “If I hadn’t been on bed rest for the past month, and if this baby would stop kicking me every goddam second, I would have told you this earlier... Stop beating yourself up about this, Cesar. You never meant to hurt anyone... I know that. Olivia knew that... Hell, even your niece knows that.”

“Niece?” He finally broke a smile, and it finally felt like the light was coming back. Both into his soul and mine. “It’s a girl?”

“I found out two days ago. You’re the only one who knows.”

“Really? You haven’t even told Oscar?”

“No, not yet,” I replied. “But when I make the announcement, you have to act surprised. Ruby will never forgive me if he finds out I told you and didn’t tell him.”

Cesar and I stood outside the gate laughing. And for the first time in a month, I finally felt okay again. Now that Cesar knew I didn’t blame him for what happened, I finally felt like I had my family back.

Even if him and his brother hadn’t quite reconciled yet.

NEXT PART

#oscar #Oscar Diaz #oscar x reader #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz x reader #spooky imagines #spooky imagine #spooky x reader #fanfiction #on my block #on my block masterlist #on my block imagines #on my block fanfiction

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amuseoffyre · 4 years

Text

Crossing Paths - 928AD - Rila

Notes: I love stumbling on random saints.

928AD – Rila

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake!”

Crowley grinned up at the angel in the entrance to the cave. “Surprise!”

Aziraphale made a moue, stepping down into the cave, a chest cradled in his arms. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Same old, same old,” Crowley replied, sprawling back against the cave wall. “What about you? Last I heard, you were holding court in Great Preslav?”

“Ah.” Aziraphale winced. “Well, you see, there’s a chap hereabouts that my fellow wants to meet. He’s been earning quite the reputation for miracles.”

It took a lot of effort to keep his face straight. “Miracles, eh? How about that?”

The angel’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Crowley…”

“Imagine! Miracles! All the way up here!”

“Crowley, what have you done?”

“Nothing!” He paused, considered. “Weeeeeeell, maybe 25 percent of nothing. 40 at a push.”

Aziraphale groaned. “You’re behind this? All of the…” He tried to flap his very full hand and resorted to flapping an elbow instead. “What the Hell are you doing? You can’t do miracles!”

“Ah, but I’m not.” Crowley couldn’t stop the grin from spreading. “The magical miracle hermit does. You know? Bit hairy? Not keen on hygiene or people? Occasionally beats himself up a bit?” He waved grandly around the cavern they were in. “Lives in a cave that is exactly 100 percent this one?”

The angel’s face fell. “Oh no.”

Crowley beamed at him. “Oh yes. You know I get assigned the holy ones. He’s getting really ratty with me. Turns out he doesn’t like the extra attention.”

“And you can… tolerate being in here?”

Crowley shrugged cheerfully. “S’a cave, angel. Not exactly sanctified, is it?” He got to his feet, dusting flecks of stone from his robes. “Oi, Ivan! You going to be less of a grumpy bugger today? You’ve got a visitor.”

Something moved in the gloomier crevice at the back of the cave.

“I told you to get out.”

“And I told you I’m not listening,” Crowley called back. “Anyway, didn’t your good Lord say you should welcome people into your home?” He winked at the angel. “Something about blessing the people who seek comfort and knowledge, yeah? Be nice and sociable and interact with everyone? Blah blah blah?”

The hermit stamped out from the smaller cavern. “You keep your blasphemy to yourself, demon. I–” He paused at the sight of Aziraphale. “Who are you?”

The angel pinked and opened up the chest. It was packed with gold and trinkets and all the kind of things an ascetic shunned. “I bring you a gift from–” He backed up a step at the dangerous gleam in the human’s eye and Crowley snickered. “I mean… er…”

“Another one!” Ivan grabbed a rock and hurled it at Aziraphale. “Out, demon! Out! I don’t want your temptations!”

“I beg your pardon!” Aziraphale yelped in indignation. “I’m not a demon!”

“Ha!” Ivan advanced on him, waving his well-worn crucifix. “You come here – here – bringing the trappings of wealth and greed and luxury, all dressed in silks and velvets!” He jabbed Aziraphale in the chest and Crowley had to smash his hands over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud at the absolute outrage on the angel’s face. “Take your wealth and money to someone who might succumb to your wiles!”

“I’m here, bringing you a gift from your Tsar!”

Ivan blinked owlishly at him. “My Tsar?”

“Yes!” Aziraphale was red in the face. “Tsar Peter! He’s come to seek your spiritual guidance! We heard about your miracles in the city! He wanted to come and pay his respects to you!”

Crowley rolled onto his feet and sauntered over, peering over Ivan’s skinny shoulder. “They did mention the ‘giving up all worldly possessions’ part of being a hermit, didn’t they?” he inquired. “Or did Pete miss the memo?” He reached for a jewel-crusted goblet. “Mind you, the place could do with a little brightening up.”

Ivan flapped a hand at him. “Off, demon!”

Crowley crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. “Hasn’t worked for the past three months. Isn’t about to work now.” He plopped himself back down on one of the boulders by the cavern wall and stretched out his legs. “So you going to take his shiny presents, then?”

Ivan glowered at him. Crowley had to admit he liked the stubborn old coot. Reminded him of a certain spell spent in the desert, centuries back.

“He means it as a token of respect,” Aziraphale put in with a quick smile. “He would be honoured to meet you.”

“Ooooh,” Crowley snickered. “Get him. He’d be honoured. Makes you special, doesn’t it? Boss of the country comes all this way from the big city just for an audience with you.” Ivan’s lips compressed to a thin line. “Oh, go on,” Crowley goaded, grinning at the matching expressions on both angel and saint’s faces. “Doesn’t it make you the teensiest bit proud? Bet he’ll fawn on you and dote and everything.”

The thin line turned hard and Ivan slammed the lid of the chest so hard that Aziraphale staggered.

“You may tell his Majesty,” he said without taking his eyes off Crowley’s face, “I cannot accept his gifts. When a man has so much and has so many who look to him for protection and care, that is where he must lay his fortunes. He cannot buy his way into Heaven with trinkets.”

Crowley gave him a grudging nod.

“You… could tell him so yourself,” Aziraphale said hopefully. “We came a long way. You’re a source of great inspiration to him.”

Ivan turned his full attention to Aziraphale and his sour expression changed, a small smile hidden in his tangled beard. “Come,” he said, leading the angel back out of the cavern.

“Going to go and show off your knowledge?” Crowley called after him, scrambling to his feet.

Outside on the track, Ivan turned to face him. “Not going anywhere, demon,” he said. He returned his smile to Aziraphale. “Your man – your Tsar – may see me, but what he seeks from me, I cannot give him. I am only a man. All that he seeks can only come from one greater by far than men and Kings.”

And, of course, Aziraphale positively beamed at him. He set down the chest, opening it and rummaging through it and Crowley rolled his eyes at the hint of a miracle.

“I know you can’t accept the money and gold,” the angel said, producing a miraculously intact bundle of fruits, breads and cheeses that could never have fit inside the chest, “but accept these small tokens. Please.”

Ivan nodded, covering one of the angel’s hands with his own. “Thank you.” He hesitated, glancing down the rocky hillside. “Your Tsar is below?”

Yes, Crowley thought eagerly, give in to the pride.

“He is,” Aziraphale said eagerly. “Will you come?”

The hermit stared pensively down the hillside, then smiled at the angel. “I will offer him my respects, but only from a distance,” he said. “I am not to be revered or treated as some great source of blessing or knowledge. Such things come from God alone. I will see him and he will see me as men. Nothing more.”

“Oh for Satan’s sake,” Crowley groaned. “Come on!”

Ivan smiled serenely at him. “Your work is done here, demon.”

Crowley made a face and threw a pebble at him.

Ivan chuckled. “Go and tell your Tsar to wait at the edge of his encampment,” he said. “I will come down soon.” He disappeared back into the crack in the cliff face, his bundle of food cradled in his arms.

“Ugh,” Crowley grumbled.

“He seems a very bright fellow,” Aziraphale offered sympathetically.

“Mm.” Crowley stooped and peered into Aziraphale’s chest. “Always have to watch out for the smart ones.” He poked through the bottles and cups. “Wine? They sent wine for a hermit?”

The angel sighed. “I know, but he was quite determined.”

“Well…” Crowley plucked the bottle out of the chest. “More for us, eh?”

The angel’s lips twitched. “Really, Crowley…”

For good measure, Crowley picked out two of the goblets and waggled them. “Meet you outside the camp in an hour, eh?” He closed the lid. “Off you trot, then. Got your Tsar to disappoint.”

“Honestly…” Aziraphale sighed fondly, picking up the chest. “Sometimes, I don’t know why I bother with you.”

“Wine!” Crowley called after him, waving the bottle over his head. “Wine and wit!”

“Something,” Aziraphale yelled back, “you frequently lack in equal measures.”

Crowley grinned in the afternoon sunlight.

Always a bit of a bastard, that angel.

#fic: crossing paths #good omens fic #crowley #aziraphale

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langdvnshepherd · 5 years

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Good For You ~ Epilogue (Duncan Shepherd x fem!reader)

PART ONE ~ PART TWO ~ PART THREE ~ PART FOUR

MASTERLIST

Summary: You’re a broke ass college student whose one night stand with the infamous Duncan Shepherd leads to the development of a rather interesting relationship between the two of you.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: sugar daddy!Duncan, fem!reader, smut, daddy kink, voyeurism (sort of? not really but), lost of fluff hehe

A/N: Surprise bitch, I bet you thought you’d seen the last of sugar daddy!Duncan and Y/N 😏. Since everyone seemed to be feelin some type of way that Part 4 was the last part, I figured I’d finish them off with a cute lil sum sum bc why the hell not lmao. This also kinda fits in line with it being finals szn, so for all my thotties still in school, enjoy!! Also I barely proofread this pls forgive me. Once again, thanks for all of the kind words about my writing, it means the world to be as always!

A set of keys rattling on the other side of Duncan’s apartment door indicated her arrival. They jangled rapidly, as if getting inside was of utmost importance. Duncan knew exactly who it was, as only two other people in the world had a key to his place. Annette, whom he’d only recently just reconciled with after the earth-shattering news that revealed she wasn’t actually his mother, had taken off to Mexico earlier that week to tend to international ties with The Shepherd Freedom Foundation, so it wasn’t her. Which led him to believe that only other person, a person he’d been thinking an awful lot about lately, could possibly be making their way into his apartment...

“I DID IT!” you yelled as you bolted through the front door of Duncan’s, well yours and Duncan’s, apartment. Probably a little too loud for his neighbor’s liking, but you were too excited to give a shit. Paying no mind to behave like a civilized human being, you dropped everything at the entryway and jumped over the back of the quilted leather sofa to plummet into Duncan’s lap; textbooks, designer bag, and the obnoxiously large keyring to your new Audi (an anniversary present from Duncan), all clanking to the floor in one large pile.

Duncan grunted in response, the weight of you crashing on top of him so suddenly knocked the breath out of him. His face quickly became consumed by a genuine, ear-to-ear smile as he remembered what you had set off to do this morning.

“I knew you would,” he stated matter-of-factly as his arms wrapped securely and comfortably around your waist, his lips reaching over to plant a quick kiss on your lips before you told him all about the day you’d just had.

In the years that the two of you actually spent together as a couple, you’d come to realize many things about the infamous Duncan Shepherd. One being that he loved physical contact. He wasn’t quick to expose that side of himself back when he was considered strictly as your sugar daddy, but that passing of time had made him soft. He loved touches. Even little touches like pressing his knee against yours under the table during boring gala dinners, or rubbing small circles on the underside of your ass while his head was between your legs. Duncan lacing his arms around you had become customary, part of your daily routine when either of you came home for the night.

“The department loved my thesis. They said my research was impeccable, and that there wasn’t a single thing I could have done to improve it. I’m set to graduate in two weeks!” you gloated, and you damn well reserved the right to.

For the past 3 years, you’d been working on your thesis for graduate school, and it just about took every ounce of sanity you had left. You couldn’t count the number of days and nights you’d spent huddled over a textbook or sobbing into your laptop because your numbers weren’t coming out right or you felt like your argument was pointless. But Duncan was there for you through it all. He saw how drained you were for months on end, and wanted to make sure he was doing everything he could. You quit your job, finally giving into Duncan’s pleads to let him cover your expenses full time. You’d even been living with him for just over a year now, not counting the many, unofficial months prior when a large collection of your bras and underwear had mysteriously taken over drawers of Duncan’s dresser. Your roommate was pissed after finding out you were abandoning her to move in with your boyfriend, but she quickly retracted her remarks upon realizing she’d be able to visit Duncan’s lavish apartment whenever she pleased.

“So I’m guessing my little stress reliever really helped take the edge off for your presentation then, hmm?” he snidely remarked, referring to last night, when his fingers worked you over the edge repeatedly. You’d been up all night worrying, sleep being the furthest thing from your mind. Duncan begged and pleaded for you to come to bed, but you refused. Too many last minute diagrams to perfect and statistics to memorize before your thesis defense the next morning. He’d somehow managed to coax you into the satin of his sheets with the promise of a good night’s sleep. There was no teasing, no holding back, just Duncan making you feel so incredibly good, knocking you into a deep slumber in no time.

“I just got my fucking master’s degree, and you want to try to make this about yourself?” you sarcastically jabbed, playfully shoving Duncan’s shoulders against the back of the couch.

He pretended to be hurt, unwinding one arm from your waist to dramatically massage the skin where you’d pushed him.

“I’m teasing, dove. You wanna go out? I’m feeling like this calls for a celebration. We can go to that new seafood restaurant on Pennsylvania Avenue. You have to have a reservation, but I could probably get us in.”

“Can we just stay in? I’ve been standing in these heels for hours and I really don’t feel like talking to anyone else,” you muttered while tucking your head into the crook of his neck, the exhaustion evident in your body language.

“Of course,” he replied, resting his chin on the top of your head while brushing his fingertips absentmindedly across your forearm. “I can call in something. What are you in the mood for? Sushi? Thai?”

“Can we order pizza from that place by my old apartment?” you asked, a cheeky grin creeping its way onto your face. You knew damn well the reaction that suggestion would get out of him. You’d gotten Duncan to eat there once, but only once. After some begging on your part, Duncan agreed to give it a shot. His upbringing consisted of caviar and charcuteries, meaning greasy, $2 a slice pizza automatically made his stomach churn. He ate it, but not without complaining the entire time. Despite growing accustomed to Duncan’s ways after being with him for so long, you still yearned for that shitty, cheesy, pumped-full-of-chemicals pizza that had comforted you on many drunken nights while walking back to your old apartment.

Duncan pulled back from where he was cuddled into you to reveal the most genuine, stink face you had ever seen. His lips were pressed together firmly and turned down in disgust and his eyes were crinkled at the corners. Clearly not amused.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Serious as a heart attack, handsome,” you rattled your fingertips against his peck for emphasis, peering up at him with doe eyes you knew he couldn’t resist.

He paused for a moment longer, praying you’d suggest something, anything, else besides that stupid fucking pizza he hated so much. He honestly didn’t see how people could stomach food like that, but he wasn’t going to crush your spirits on your special day.

Realizing you weren’t budging on your wishes, he audibly groaned.

“You’re lucky I have a hard time saying no to you. You know that, right?”

“As if you ever would, Donut.”

He suppressed a chuckle at the nickname you’d recently picked given him, still trying to seem annoyed.

“Whatever, brat.” He snorted effortlessly flicked your legs off of his lap, sauntering towards the kitchen to grab his phone and place an order for what he considered the worst meal on the planet.

Somewhere along the line, the pizza had long been forgotten. Maybe it was when you’d purposely reached over Duncan to grab the tv remote, making sure he got an eyeful of your breasts as you moved. Or maybe it was when you’d kissed him to shut him up amidst his incessant bitching about how the pizza tasted like it had been left out in the hot sun for 3 days. However it went down, you’d found yourself straddled across Duncan’s lap, his hands clutched tightly at your waist, occasionally roaming down to your ass to grind you against his hardening cock.

You felt your core pulsing beneath you as Duncan ground his hips against yours, arousal pooling at your entrance. As old as Duncan was, he was always in the mood, ready to take you whenever and wherever. He had situated his body so that his legs were propped up on the cushions and his back was leaning against the stiff armrest, where he was able to hold your body as close to his as possible with ease. You were lost in the moment, not thinking of anything or anyone else except the way Duncan was making you feel. Once you were able to pry Duncan’s hands from of your ass, you withdrew your lips from his with a pop. Sliding down his body, you held eye contact with him as you reached for the buckle on his belt, eyes blown with desire. Duncan had this look on his face like he was contemplating doing something or saying something, but he certainly didn’t want you to stop either. He let you undo his belt buckle and unzip his trousers, making one less layer between you and his aching cock. You pressed your lips over the cotton of his boxers, making him groan as you mouthed at his erection that was begging to be set free. Just as you reached for the waistband of his boxers, Duncan gripped you by your wrists. “What? Are you okay?” you stopped suddenly. Duncan was never one to put things on hold, especially when your pretty, little lips were mere inches away from where he wanted you most. “Put your shoes on, I need to show you something.” “You’re joking, right?” you asked, sitting up from your place between his legs.

“Serious as a heart attack, angel,” he responded, batting his eyelashes and speaking in a sing-song voice, clearly mocking your words from earlier on in the evening.

“Come on, let’s get in the car.”

Glancing down at the bulge in boxers, you gave him one last, “Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of this first?” look. He simply smiled in return, taking your hand in his to help you up from the couch.

The car ride lasted for what felt like an eternity, largely due to the fact that Duncan had used one of the emergency ties he kept in his backseat to blindfold you, making you completely unaware of where he was taking you. You begged and pleaded for Duncan to tell you where you were going, but he wouldn’t budge. It was a surprise, he insisted.

“Is it a dog?”

“Jesus, no.”

“A cat?”

“Absolutely not, Y/N.”

“A bird?”

“Why would I blindfold you to take you to get a fucking bird?”

“I don’t know, Dunc? Why did you throw me in your Bentley and blindfold me at 11 o’clock at night anyway, hmm?

“Will you just drop it? You’ll see when we get there.” He was annoyed but the tone of voice let you know he was still entertained by your whining. You knew he was smirking despite not being able to see anything but the darkness that the blindfold allowed.

“Fine, but a dog would still be nice.”

The rest of the way consisted of silence; the whirring of the engine and the breeze of the air conditioner being the only sounds filling the confines of Duncan’s car. You tugged at the tie around your eyes, trying to stealthily catch a glimpse of a highway sign that would even slightly indicate where you were headed. He caught you every time, scolding you and sarcastically threatening to drop you off on the side of the road if you tried it again.

Suddenly, you felt Duncan applying pressure to the brakes, the car slightly jerking as he shifted the gear to park. Finally. Whatever Duncan was planning was about to be unveiled.

Your hand wrapped around the back of the tie, attempting to undo the knot and take in your surroundings. Duncan was quicker, swatting your hands away before you could slip the fabric away from your eyes.

“Not yet. I’ll tell you when you can look.”

Exhaustingly, you threw your head back into the headrest of the seat with a sigh.

“Will you stop being dramatic? We’ll be inside in like 10 seconds.” You couldn’t see him, but you knew his eyes were rolled so far back into his head they might have fallen out.

You heard the click of the door handle, and felt Duncan’s hand on your elbow, prompting you to step out of his car. Your shoes scraped against pavement, meaning he hadn’t driven you into the middle of the woods to kill you. What a relief.

He guided your steps with his fingers laced in yours, oddly soothing you as your anxiety was climbing at not having any idea where you could possibly be. The air outside was crisp, slightly chilly due to the time of night. The only noise coming from outside was the continuous chirping of crickets and other critters alike. Wherever you were, it was secluded.

“Okay, stay right there. Don’t move.” Duncan commanded, patting you once on the shoulder before leaving your side.

You heard four electronic pings and the whoosh of a door swinging open like he was hitting buttons on a keypad. Where the fuck were you?

Duncan’s hands were back on your arms in a moment’s notice, guiding you over the threshold of the door he had just opened.

“Watch your step.”

Immediately, the smell of fresh wood and chemicals filled your nostrils. Yours and Duncan’s steps echoed loudly throughout the space as he continued to lead you; the harmony of the various sounds of the outdoors no longer present.

“You ready?” Duncan asked, speaking low into your ear, the stubble of his beard just barely ghosting over the nape of your neck.

“Been ready since you blindfolded me an hour ago, Dunc.” you fired back.

Duncan was too tired to comment on any more of your whining, he just chuckled lightly in response, pressing a kiss to your temple over the thick material of the tie.

Antagonizingly slow, his fingers worked at the knot. He knew what he was doing, pissing you off even more by dragging it out. Duncan could feel the way you froze in your spot, your chest barely moved with each breath and your hands were frozen at your side; indicating your skyrocketing anxiety. He was nervous too, but you weren’t currently in the position to be able to notice the way his heart looked like it was going to beat out of his chest.

The tie fell from your eyes, ribboning to the ground and pooling around your feet. And then you saw it.

The ceilings had to have been at least twenty feet high. The walls were stark white, the one at the far end covered almost entirely with a seamless, glass window. There was a grand staircase in the middle, leading to a breezeway that overlooked the space you were currently standing in. You put it together. You were in a house, and a fucking huge one at that.

Nothing occupied the space. No furniture, no art hanging on the wall, not a single indication that anyone even lived here. It was empty.

“Duncan, where are we?” you asked, too entranced by your surroundings to turn around and look at him as you spoke.

He came around to your side, wrapping one arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him.

“Home.”

You broke away from his hold to look directly into his eyes, unconvinced that he’d just said what you thought you heard.

“What?” it came out as barely a whisper.

Duncan nudged his head forwards, prompting you to follow him. He paced himself, creeping along against the marble tile. You were further into the house now, catching new details you weren’t able to see from the front door. No words were spoken, just Duncan steering you throughout the first floor with his hands crossed behind his back. There was a kitchen, a kitchen at least three times bigger than the one in Duncan’s apartment with a double oven and appliances that looked far too advanced than anything you’d ever seen. Connected to the space was what would be a dining room, big enough for a table that could seat at least twelve. Duncan stopped just as were standing in front of the ginormous, granite island resting in the center of the kitchen.

“You made a comment a couple months back,” Duncan began, turning to face you.

“Something about how my closet was getting cramped because of how many pairs of shoes we both had. It got me thinking. I’m older now. Got a good head on my shoulders. I‘ve got you. Why am I still living in an apartment like a twenty-something bachelor? So I started looking at houses. And then I found this one. I was gonna wait until the renovations were done before I told you. There’s still a couple more things they need to do upstairs and some electrical work here and there, but other than that it’s basically finished. You looked really happy tonight, and it made me not want to wait any longer so....here we are. Happy graduation, I guess.”

You felt a warm tear roll down your cheek, too busy staring at Duncan to register the buildup in your tear ducts. He looked at you like he always did when he professed his feelings to you, with genuine, whole-hearted, adoration. With love.

“This is our house?”

“This is our house.,” Duncan confirmed, a confident smile on his face.

“I even made them put in a bigger tub ‘cause I know important bathtime is to you. And the closet is extra roomy. But if it’s not enough, you can just use one of the many spare rooms for all of your things. I know I tend to go a bit-overboard-with my gift-giving.”

A silent laugh escaped your chest, huffs of air expelling from your mouth each time.

“Duncan Shepherd, I love you.”

“And I love you, Y/N Y/LN. I can’t wait to live here with you.”

He brought you in for a kiss, cupping your cheeks in both hands as his lips melted into yours. You broke away in a smile, shifting your way out of Duncan’s grasp to look once more at what looked like the abyss that you would soon call home.

“Can you see it?” Duncan spoke up as your eyes wondered. “A giant sectional back by that room we first saw when we walked in, a dining room table over there. Black obviously. Maybe some plants over by the windows.”

And you could. You could see it. Duncan’s weird art hanging on the walls in the entryway, both of your cars parked side by side in the driveway you assumed was wide enough to back a bus into given what you were already looking at. It already felt like home, despite being an empty shell of one.

In your trance, you’d seemed to have missed when Duncan walked up behind you, pressing his chest against your back. His hands had started at your waist; rubbing soft, soothing circles against your hips bones. Inch by inch, he ever so slowly trailed his fingers up your body towards your chest, where they were now purchased just below the swell of your breasts.

“I can see you in here,” Duncan started, his hot breath fanning over your collarbones, littering your skin with goosebumps. “Standing in this very spot. Making breakfast in your underwear. Those cute, little pancakes you like to make on Saturday mornings-”

“They’re crepes, Duncan. You know that.” you snickered, burrowing further into his arms and his touch.

He kissed the sweet spot along your jawline, knowing all too well the reaction he’d get out of you. A soft gasp blooming from your lips halted you from speaking any longer. You were suddenly reminded of where you left off back at Duncan’s apartment. Already feeling the stirring in your abdomen at the thought.

Duncan leaned forward with you still in his grasp, laying his elbows flush with the granite slab of the island. He moved his kisses from your neck to your shoulders, and then to your back just at the top of your spine.

“Do we have neighbors?” you questioned, certain that anyone could see the two of you through the ginormous window. The lights were on and the house was empty, meaning your bodies stuck out like sore thumbs. It wouldn’t take a genius to catch onto what was happening. You already knew where this was going, especially since you could feel Duncan hardening against the backside of your thigh.

“Not yet. They’re building another house down the street, but even then it’s still about a quarter of a mile away,” he answered in between pressing kisses on your jugular. “Plus trees. And hedges. No one can see us, babe.”

“Good, because I need you to fuck me. Right now.”

In seconds you felt the bone-chilling cold from the stone of the kitchen island pressed against your cheek. Duncan pressed you down on your stomach to lay as flat as you could on the granite, reinforcing you with his toned arm. Your arms splayed out at your sides, fingers spaced out pushing yourself down even further.

Duncan’s other hand reached down to the hem of your dress, bunching the fabric up around your waist and resting it on your back. The warmth of his fingers caressed your ass before he withdrew them briefly to unzip his own trousers. As he freed his leaking cock from his boxers, you felt the head brush just slightly against your skin, beadlets of precum spreading across your cheeks. Duncan swiftly tugged your panties to the side, desperate to feel you against his digits.

He started at your entrance, gathering the wetness seeping from your core with his fingertips. In slow, calculated patterns, he circles his way up to your clit, the contact making you shiver. A small moan fell from your lips, finally getting the action you sought out hours ago at dinner.

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping. Tell me, who is the only one that do this to you?” he asked in fake perplexion.

“You do,” you’d somehow been able to muster throughout the sea of pleasure provided to you by Duncan and his long, skillful fingers.

“It’s all for you. Every time, daddy.” you grinned against the coldness of the granite.

Duncan was content with your answer, as a low groan rumbled from his chest in response. He leaned forward once more, so his lips brushed the shell of your ear and his chest molded into your back.

“You ready for me, love?”

“Mhmm,” was all you’d managed to get out.

His fingers were replaced with the tip of his cock, swirling his member along your cunt to prepare himself for the stretch. He pressed his fingers into you once more, using the collected slick to pump himself a few times before aligning himself at your entrance.

Duncan pressed the small of your back down further against the granite, making your ass jut out instinctively to give him easier access to your dripping core. Tantalizingly slow, he pushed himself into you, savoring every inch of your walls that clenched around him with urgency. You were both breathing heavily, the melting of your bodies consuming every nerve.

Once he was fully seated inside of you, he stalled, looking down at your frame. The girl he’d managed to rope back in time after time. No matter how much he knew he didn’t deserve someone as loyal and trustworthy as you, you came back. Every time. Every night. To him. He never thought he’d find himself in this position. In his new house, with whom he was convinced was the love of his life, sprawled out on his kitchen counter at his mercy.

He leaned in once more to press a tiny, close-mouthed kiss to the back of your head before pulling himself halfway out of your drenched cunt, only to forcefully thrust himself back in again.

It felt like you had been lying there for hours. You were almost certain you’d have a dent in your cheek for a week due to how hard the side of your head was pressed into the kitchen island. Duncan ruthlessly pounded into you from behind, your cheek rutting against the granite with every slam of his hips while cries escaped from your lips. Your fingers grasped for anything, everything. He had one hand on your waist and the other wrapped almost too-tightly around the back of your neck to keep you in place, so you opted for gripping the lip of the counter as best as you could. But pearls of sweat coated your entire body, making it hard to hold onto anything for too long.

The sounds of squelching skin on skin echoed obscenely throughout the empty house. It was borderline blasphemous. Chants of, “Oh my god,” “Don’t stop,” “You feel so good,” and plenty of profanities were peppered into the mix, only adding to the indecency of the situation.

It took some time, but you finally began feeling that familiar tingle building up inside of you, causing another rush of arousal to flow effortlessly out of your cunt. It became overbearing after a while, your desperate need to milk Duncan’s cock for all that it was worth overcoming your very existence. You chased after your release by rolling your hips backward, working in sync with Duncan to fuck you deeper and harder.

“Someone’s eager. Am I not giving you enough, little girl?” Duncan mocked through heavy breaths.

“Just go faster, please,” you begged, fighting to let pleasure take over, but you weren’t quite there yet.

“Please what? Use your manners.”

“Please, daddy.”

Duncan loosened his grip at your waist, snaking his hand around and beneath you. You felt the pads of his fingers swirl lightly over the fabric of your panties that still covered your clit, all while he continued to thrust his hips into your backside. With each cycle around your bud, he increased his pressure just slightly, drawing out moan after moan from you. The sounds falling from your lips triggered moans of his own.

When he finally slipped his hand through the front of your panties, you were overtaken by a swell of euphoria, just teetering over the edge. You abandoned your other senses, focusing solely on Duncan and the way he was working you open with his cock and now his fingers. Your eyes were screwed shut, hearing going in and out, fingers grasping for purchase around the corner of the island.

“What about now? Is daddy giving you enough now?”

You couldn’t speak. Your mouth hung open, but no sound came out.

“No? Guess I’ll have to pick up the pace then.”

The feeling of Duncan vigourously massaging your swollen clit between his two fingers was enough to trigger your release. You came with a shaky scream, trembling as Duncan continued to fuck himself into you through your orgasm despite the fact that he was faltering himself. The hairs on your arms stood upright, your skin quickly becoming oversensitive to his touch.

Duncan’s hips sputtered, stilling completely as he allowed for his own release. His moans went up an octave, a sign you’d grown accustomed to recognizing as a tell-tale indicator that he was cumming. You felt his warm seed spilling deep inside of you, coating your walls as he gave your cunt a few extra pumps with his cock before slipping out of you.

He rested his chin on your shoulder, lifting you from the island and winding his arms around your waist. You could feel the dampness of Duncan’s forehead on your neck, it was cool on your fevered skin.

“Did you do that on purpose?” you asked, chuckling as you turned in his arms to face him.

Duncan smirked back at you, satisfied with your current state. You had a flat, bright red mark across your cheek from being thrown against the counter, the rest of your face flushed with an adorable, pink heat.

“Did I do what purpose?” he responded, feigning ignorance.

“Drag me all the way out here just to fuck me as loud as you wanted so no one would hear?”

His grin only grew wider, you’d caught onto his little game. He lifted you onto the island, placing you gently on the granite. Through the corner of his eye, he caught his cum dribbling down your thighs. Quickly, he caught the stream of milky, white seed on his pointer and middle fingers. He raised them to your mouth, pulling your bottom lip out just slightly with his other hand. You accepted them without hesitation, running your tongue along every centimeter of his digits. As you removed him from your mouth with a satisfied pop, he answered.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

You shook your head and laughed once more at his cockiness, grabbing him tighter and lying your head against his chest.

“I did, Donut. It surely did.”

As you stood in Duncan’s arms with your head to the side, you could just barely make out a swimming pool in the backyard beyond the windows of the dining room. It was still surrounded by dirt, meaning it wasn’t quite complete. Visions danced in your head at the memories that would be made beyond those french doors.

You couldn’t wait for this place to be finished. You were ready to spend the rest of your life here with the man you’d once thought you’d never see again. The man that did exactly as he’d promised:

He’d taken care of you. And he always would.

Tagging:

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @venusxxlangdon @ccodyfern @michaellangdong@michael-langdon-owns-my-soul @wroteclassicaly @omg-hellgirl@aveiangdon @belusima @readsalot73 @americanhorrorstudies@langdonsdemon @ticklish-leafy-plant @michaelfuckinglangdon@fpsjacket @mother-tequila @gold-dragon-slayer @langdonshell @coloursunlimited

#duncan shepherd x reader #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd smut #michael langdon x reader #jim mason x reader #hoc #ahs #mine #my writing

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catsandstrawberries · 5 years

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Real Family 8

Pairings: BTS x teen female reader, platonic love

Warnings: Language, neglect, descriptions of a panic attack and past child abuse

A/N: Sorry I haven't posted in so long, hopefully, this chapter makes up for it. Also, I PROMISE Yoongi gets better but for the next few chapters he's going to be a jerk..I'm sorry but I can't imagine him feeling ok with reader living with him at this point in time.

Summary: It’s not blood that makes a family. It’s love.

Masterlist

The week after they had given me my own phone they had automatically became super busy. They were always leaving early in the mourning and coming home late at night, I didn't really expect anything different considering they were idols. Sometimes they would invite me to come with them to dance practice, I thought it would be fun until I saw all of the hip rolls and thrust in their choreo. Dancing like that in front of the girl who's living with you and trying not to be too sexual is weird.

So for the most part I stayed at home, and indulged in the Netflix account Jungkook made for me. Honestly, most of my days were spent eating and watching the show called the Office. In the past week I had watched seven seasons of the Office and finished Parks and Recreations. Both of which made me cry at some point from laughter and sadness. Taehyung also helped me set up an Instagram and Twitter, and sometimes we would send each other awkward selfies when he had some downtime at work. Apparently, Namjoon had even started an Instagram called the BTS family, and I later found out that the day I was supposed to get coffee for Bang, led to him yelling at the boys for not using me to my promotional potential. Or at least that was my guess and when I told Jungkook my theory, his widened eyes and exclamation of ‘you're not a promotional tool to us!’ told me my hunch was right.

All the boys had the password except for me to the Instagram account, which was a little aggravating but Namjoon also had to sit me down and talk to me about how I would need to be responsible in what I posted since I gained about 8 million followers on Instagram. The Bts Fam account was also just cringey photos of myself. There was one of me from the photo shoot, one of me and Tae, the rainbow shot of the boys and one of me sleeping on the couch. I messaged Jin asking (begging) him to delete it because I was drooling in the photo but in response, he sent me a laughing emoji.

Currently, I was watching reruns of the office since Hoseok asked me not to watch the final season without him. I refused to hold back my laughter as Kevin spilled his chilly onto the floor or when Stanley talked about his love of pretzel day. But as soon as the door slammed shut followed by a silence I immediately muted the show, calling out, “hello?” Even though I knew the house was pretty top security, doors slamming and the silence always scared me. “Just me (Y/N)!” Namjoon poked his head out from behind the wall, looking up from his phone and tucking it in his pocket. “You're back early,” I stated turning around on the couch and leaning my head against the frame to get a better view. “Yeah practice got out earlier and they decided to give us off till Monday.” He sounded so relieved but it was only Saturday, it was sad to think they had to work so hard just to get one day off. Instead of crushing his dreams though I simply smiled. “That's great.” I then noticed the quiet in the building, “what happened to the boys?” He flopped down on the couch next to me, “they went to get food-.” I immediately groaned, “Not salads again!” BTS comeback was in a few months and of course, they all were expected to diet and one of the first and only things Yoongi had said to me this week was, “If we're doing it so is she.” He didn't even say it to my face or address me, so our relationship wasn't really getting anywhere. “Sorry.” He smirked, words not matching his emotion. “Actually, when the boys get back we all should talk.” I gulped, turning off the Tv and turning to Namjoon. “Is s-something wrong?” I stuttered, despite the fact I was getting more comfortable with them I was always waiting for something wrong to happen, expecting it. Maybe this was it. Namjoon opened his mouth but the loud shouting of Hoseok prompted him to roll his eyes instead. “(Y/N) you better not have watched the last season without me!” An annoyed sigh followed by a wack came from the other room. “Can you quiet down Hoseok, anyways we have to talk to her remember.” Jin's strict voice startled me, what was so important? Jimin soon filtered into the room ruffling my hair as he passed by then jumping over the couch to sit by me. After he had done it at the photoshoot it kind of became our ‘thing’. Even after plentiful whining from Tae and Kook about how they wanted a ‘thing’ too. The rest of the boys flooded into the room, Jin handing me a bowl of greens and vegetables, the only thing slightly appealing was the boiled eggs. I tried not to act too ungrateful, even a salad was better than no food, but why did I have to diet with them, stupid Yoongi. Once everyone had settled down and Jungkook handed me a fork, all eyes were on the leader. He twiddled slightly with his thumbs as he spoke, “So (Y/N), I got a message from the state the other day about them sending a social worker to check up on you. Apparently, it's routine for them to see your lifestyle, how you're adjusting and everything.” I practically sighed in relief at his words, if this was the news then I had nothing to worry about. I suddenly perked up as a thought entered my head, “is the social worker Katie?” I honestly missed Katie, even though we fought and got on each other's nerves she was the closest thing I had to a mom. Jimin chuckled next to me and I blushed from my sudden excitement, stuffing a large piece of kale into my mouth. “The email didn't specify,” his tone then turned serious, “but, (Y/N) I was doing some research and they said if the meeting didn't go well you could get revoked from our parental rights.” Of course, I knew this, since it had happened in the past, but was he really worried about that? “Namjoon it's nothing to worry about, the state would only take me away if I was in an unfit home. Like the last place I lived at they drank a lot, called me names, tried to…” I faltered off just as Jimin had tensed from beside me. “I-I don't know why I said that. I'm sorry.” I hung my head in defeat, that wasn't just something I'd blurt out why did I feel so inclined to bring it up now. “Anyways, you guys will be fine, I have a roof, food, The Office.” I chuckled but this time no one laughed with me, all eyes downcast or glaring into the distance. Clearing my throat I started to eat more of my salad, “you guys will be fine, when is it?” My question caused Namjoon to blink a few times before looking at me. “Tuesday. We’re supposed to have a practice that day but I convinced Bang to let us leave for a few hours.” Jungkook let out an audible ‘yes’ followed by an ‘ow’ as he was smacked by Yoongi. “Is that all we had to talk about?” The nervous look on Namjoon's face only deepened and my stomach started to twist. “No. We enrolled you into a private school.” I gulped the remaining food in my mouth hanging my head in my hands once again letting out an annoyed groan, “you start Monday.”

When Tae had offered to take me to Target to shop for school supplies I did not question him. I thought he was just trying to do something nice. But as soon as the car pulled up to the mall Tae started to head for the store that screamed expensive in big glowing letters. Gucci. “Tae I can't go in there, isn't that for like expensive people?” Tae turned towards me, pushing his sunglasses up once they started to roll down the rim of his nose. His black and red checkered bandana pulled his hair back and the black Gucci shirt and jeans did nothing to hide his appearance or physique. “Don't worry so much, we’ll just make a quick stop then leave.” I grumbled under my breath, I doubted Tae could simply just make a ‘quick stop’ at Gucci. The security guard in front of the store gave Tae a nod followed by, “welcome back, Mr. Kim.” Jesus how many times had Tae been to this store. The guard gave me a side eye but didn't mention anything as I walked closer to Tae. The insides of the store were terrifying, everything looked expensive and I worried that if I touched something I would somehow fall 5 million into debt. The store was lit with a soft yellow and white glow, a set of purses in a glass case covering an entire wall, a full room of shoes and mannequins with strange looking sweaters were placed in the oddest of places. Turning a corner I almost jumped when seeing a mannequin holding a Gucci bag in one hand and a strange interpretation of a Kimono on the body. Trestles and chains hanging from the shoulders.

“Tae can we please get going soon, am I even old enough to be in a store like this?” Just as I asked, I walked by a set of baby clothes all pricing over 1,000 dollars. “Don't answer that,” I grumbled while Tae openly laughed at me. “Why don't you go wait outside while I check out,” before I could argue Tae was raising an eyebrow at me. “I'll be quick I promise.” Taking him for his word I exited the fancy store, casually leaning by the wall and taking out my phone.

Not even five minutes after walking out of the store Tae was done, meeting me outside a bag in hand. “What did you get?” I asked but he simply brushed off my question, “just some stuff. Here I got you these.” He placed a pair of sunglasses over my eyes, “you'll need them the more we go out in public.” Pulling a black mask from his pocket he quickly placed it over his mouth, “let's go.”

Once we had gotten to Target, Tae of course immediately got distracted. “(Y/N) these would look so cute on you, look!” He was like a kid in a candy store, shoving clothes in my hands and carrying me throughout the department. “Tae, why are we looking at clothes when I have a school uniform?” Tae turned towards me taking the clothes out of my hand and placing them in a handheld basket. “Don't think I don't notice the seven pairs of clothes you rotate through in a week (Y/N). I'm not an idiot.” Despite the cloth, over his mouth, I heard every syllable, and I looked away in annoyance. “Besides I can't let my kid go out in public without the proper clothes.” He turned away for a moment muttering something about how he wished it was Gucci, but the only thing I cared about was how he described me as ‘his kid.’ “Go try these on.” He handed me a big basket of clothes, “all of them?” Tae glared at me, before sighing. “Seriously (Y/N), please go try them on.” I glared at the ground as I walked towards the dressing room, not missing the smirk that passed Taehyung's face as I muttered, “only because you said please.”

After a full-on argument with Tae about how I didn't need 12 pairs of jeans he finally gave in and let me choose half of the clothes out of the pile he gave me. So the original fifty items soon turned into twenty-five. Shopping with Tae was seriously a hassle. Every time I remotely looked at something he would be breathing down my neck asking if I wanted it. Sure it may seem nice but it was also annoying. So far he had shoved Yankee Candles, fairy lights, and some supplements into the basket for my room, stating that ‘I needed to decorate.’ He tried to grab more especially when we got to the room decorating section with sheets, mirrors, hangars, couches and the fancy led lights. I had to drag him to the school section which was odd because that was the ONLY reason we were supposed to go to Target and we seemed to buy everything except for school supplies. As soon as we got to the aisle Tae’s nose scrunched up in disgust, “I hated school.” I glared at him and he quickly realized his mistake, “I mean school was fun...yay, learning.” Tae walked over to a pile of fancy looking notebooks and binders and simply swiped them into the basket from the shelf. “I actually met Jimin in high school.”

“Really?” I asked slightly in awe, everyone always talked about how once they graduated they moved on from there high school friends. “Yeah, Jimin got picked on a lot for his accent so I always tried to stand up for him. That's how we became friends.” He turned back towards me a smile on his face, “I know school can be rough, but try giving this one a chance.” I smiled and nodded throwing a pack of pens into the basket. If only I had known exactly what would happen at my new school.

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stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland · 5 years

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The Shadow’s Punishment (Sequel of The Revenge of the Shadows)*

*This story is completely my idea and it’s only fictional

Lauren Jauregui’s Apartment - Hollywood Hills - A Day after the AMA’s _____ - “We have a managers meeting in an hour. Tell your girl to prepare, the clowns are not happy and neither is Jauregui. I’ll send you the address” - B

Shit.

That was the first thing that came to my mind after reading Brenda’s message. Meeting of managers means meeting of clowns to talk about the PR circus that Camila and Shawn were giving to the general public with their summer romance. That also means that in addition to Andrew, Roger, and Brenda, would also be the managers / publicists of Taylor Swift (Tree Paine), Joe Alwyn (Aaron Brennan), Zac Stenmark (Oliver O'Ryan), Karlie Kloss and Josh Kushner (Scooter Braun), Kaylor’s number one enemy. Taylor and Karlie And that also means we were screwed. It wasn’t going to be a beautiful meeting because it had occurred to me to include Zac and Karlie in my revenge. I knew that I would have to talk to Camila about it. I also knew that my sun was going to be furious with me. At that moment I looked at the sofa I was sitting on and sighed heavily knowing that this would be my new bed from now on. Fucking motherfuckers. But I was willing to face them. To each of them and to be there for Camila because I knew how much she hated those public relations meetings. I was going to get up from the couch ready to face the wrath of my girlfriend when a new message arrived on my iPhone. This time it was Karlie. “I know about the meeting although I don’t understand why Tay and I have to go, but we’re in luck, the fantastic twins won’t be present. Josh is in New Zealand for a mob meeting and Joe is in Britain filming his movie. That’s good for us except for the number one bastard, Tay is crazy about it. You owe it to me, Jauregui”. - "More shit” - I whispered out loud to finally leave the living room and go to Camila who was taking a nap in my room. She had arrived exhausted after a long day of public relations stunt with Shawn and the poor woman was desperate for some peace and quiet. Having to wake her up to face a new crisis, broke my fucking heart, but I had to do it. My idea was to take all the consequences and free her from that conflict. Seeing her sprawled in bed on the decks, dressed in sweatpants, and a long ‘The 1975’ t-shirt from the closet was all I loved to see in the world, because she looked beautiful–but I had to wake her up. I tried to wake her up with kisses, literally. Kissing Camila Cabello was my passion and whenever I could do it I did it. I loved to kiss her and I didn’t hold back this time. I took advantage of those moments of peace and kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her neck, and avoided her lips. Those beautiful lips that were my downfall. I knew that if that delight began it would never end and we would never get to the fucking meeting so I armed myself with courage and woke her up again. - “Camz…” - I kissed her cheeks again - “Love, wake up,” I sighed. “We need to talk.” - “Nooo…”- I heard her sleepy voice complaining like a little girl and I couldn’t help smiling. I knew she would wake up like this - “Stay with me Lern,” Camila whispered. - “I wish I could love, but we can’t.” - My voice sounded serious and that caught the attention of my girl who opened an eye with curiosity. I returned a defeated look when in the same tone of voice I snapped, - “We have an urgent public relations meeting Camila.” “Brenda and Roger are waiting for us.” - “What happened Lauren?” - Camila had put aside all her sleep and got up suddenly looking at me seriously. - “I didn’t do anything for them to call us.” “Did something happen that you didn’t tell me?” Camila asks. My silence was my answer, but my sun still didn’t understand. - “Lauren?” - She now asked with a hint of fear, - “What have you done?” I shook my head and clenched my teeth not wanting to face her anger but she gave me no respite. - “Give me your phone,”- her voice rang so cold and deadly, that I could not avoid the tremor of nerves or that of my hands - “Lauren!” “Give me your fucking phone, now!” - “Forgive me… ” I whisper as I hand her the phone with trembling hands–trying to calm her growing anger - “I couldn’t help it Camila.” We couldn’t help it, and the guys agreed …“ Camila was focused on my phone watching the videos that Zac, Karlie, and I uploaded from our partners. Camila said nothing and her silence terrified me. When she returned the phone, she did it in silence and didn’t even look me in the eye. That was much worse than facing her anger, at least if she got angry she was able to deal with it but her indifference and coldness was something I could never face and was my worst torture. - "Please my love …” - I begged without being able to hold back my tears. - “Tell me something … yell at me, hit me!” “Tell me something!” Please!- - “You’ll sleep on the couch for a week,” - was all the response I received from her. She jumped from the bed directly to the bathroom and left me in pieces and crying to the seas. Camila came out of the shower and dressed very much like how I dressed. The two black tracksuit, sneakers, and matching hoodies in addition to our Ray Ban to hide our eyes swollen from crying. The makeup didn’t work. We reached the parking lot of my building in complete silence. Camila decided to occupy the back seat of the Tesla. She covered herself with the hood and spent the entire trip by car to Roger’s house in Malibu texting on her iPhone. From the frown I saw on her face through the rear-view mirror, it seemed she could be arguing with Sinu. I sighed and cursed softly my bad luck. I knew we would have problems and I would assume them but I thought naively that Camila would understand what I did it considering she did exactly the same thing last year at the AMA’s and the whole fandom found out about it. I was about to tell Camila that I would bear the guilt of my mistake but she anticipated me with something I didn’t expect. - “I know why you did it Lauren…”- her voice was hoarse and I nodded severely - “I know because I did it before and it is not the reason why you will sleep on the couch for a week, but because I learned that it would cost us and my mom has already warned me.” She say heavily, “This will cost us, Lauren. More than it cost us last year.” - “I know.” - I replied softly looking at her in the rear-view mirror. - “And I will bear all the blame. Don’t worry about that, Camz.” - “What?” - Camila looked at me surprised without understanding anything - “How will you do that?” “To what-?” - “I will not say anything else Mami” - I cut her with a shy smile that she returned to me halfway -“I know what I am doing …”

Or that was what I thought … ____

- “I think that after the show, that here Miss Jauregui has found her post on Instagram and that you have copied I am afraid that you already know that this will not stay that way, right? You will be punished. The six of you, well, actually the three of you who made the trick, except who will pay the consequences of your acts will be your partners. Especially Miss Cabello.”

Andrew had given his ultimatum. I knew we would have to pay a price for my mistake because the idiot of Shawn and Brenda’s manager warned me as soon as we got to Roger’s house, but I wasn’t willing to accept that Camila pay for an error that was entirely mine. - “It’s not fair”- I got up from the chair in the conference room that Roger had in his house and approached Andrew at the same time I looked at Brenda and Roger - Camila doesn’t have to pay for the shit that I caused Andrew and you know it. “Don’t be such a bastard!” - “Take care of your language girl, because I will not accept your bad behavior towards my person.” - The arrogant man complained about me with annoyance - “You know very well that I can do it because your girlfriend accepted the contract and signed it.” "She will have to pay for the mistake you made because I am not going to lose a single dollar that we have invested in my represented.“ Andrew looked at me with hate but I was desperate. I turned to see Camila trembling in the arms of Taylor who was present next to Karlie, in addition to Shawn and Zac, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had no plans to do what I did, but for Camila I would do that and more. - "Please, do with me what you feel like but don’t touch her … ”- I begged him to fall on his knees at his feet, humiliating myself before a man who only watched over his interests - “Camila is not to blame for anything. If you want to punish someone, punish me, but not her. Please….” I cried. The guys and Brenda shouted for me. Camila threw herself on my back, kneeling beside me, hugging me but I was still watching my enemy who just smiled. - “Lauren … my love, don’t do this.” - Camila asked me sadly kissing my temple - “Please my moon, don’t humiliate yourself like that.” “It’s not worth it.” - “This is bullshit Andrew and you know it”,- Taylor was obfuscated looking at Andrew and Tree. - “You haven’t lost anything and you can’t treat them like that, they are just girls.” - “They are just girls who know very well what they risk dear Taylor.” - Andrew looked with a frown at the blonde dressed in black, in fact we were all in black, except our representatives, Brenda wore a white dress with short sleeves and hair tied in a high ponytail. The men were dressed in neckties of different shades of gray. Tree wore a blue office-style outfit and her red hair tied in a high ponytail like Brenda, and looked at Taylor very upset. The guys and I like school students being punished in the principal’s office - “The same goes for your dear Karlie here.” - Andrew looked at Scooter Braun who represented Karlie and Josh Kushner and Joe Alwyn’s representative, Aaron Brennan - It was she who accepted Miss Jauregui’s idea and the same goes for Mr. Stenmark - this time Andrew looked at Zac’s representative Oliver O'Ryan who nodded severely looking at the Australian boy who did not take his eyes off the large oak wood table occupied with manila folders, coffees, and ashtrays. - “All of us have invested fortunes in your respective public relations contracts and we will not tolerate losing a single penny of that investment because of a mischief of a girl in love.” “To none of you!” But, since all this can be solved, we can reach an agreement. - Andrew looked at Camila and me with a raised eyebrow - “Return to your chair Miss Jauregui and Miss Cabello control your girlfriend better next time.” - “I’m sorry Andrew, I’m really sorry.” - Camila apologized to the motherfucker in a soft tone and I hated him, but I was pushed by her to stand up and I followed her with my head down knowing that I would have to face her again I will go back home. ___ The meeting ended with a small extension in the contracts of the group, one more month for Taylor and Joe, another month for Karlie and Josh, where the latter and complained very angry with Karlie saying that he would have to change his plans with Mickey * and two months for Camila and Shawn where they would have to be more active now in their respective social networks. It was that or a fine of money that neither Camila, much less I could afford, nor Zac. Karlie, Shawn and Taylor could but they accepted the punishment because it was fair to all of us. I never thought I would have their support but we had it even though Shawn and Taylor were still very upset with us. We left Malibu with a heavy heart, but aware that everything could have been much worse. Brenda told me that she would meet me during the week and she left Malibu in her car while they left Scooter Braun, who at least had no discussion with Taylor, but also set her meeting with Karlie and Josh. The same happened with Tree who also attended her meeting with Taylor. Aaron left after having a serious talk with the blonde singer and Oliver did the same after talking to the Australian model. Andrew left Roger’s house still very angry and throwing daggers at my address. I knew he wouldn’t forgive me so easily for what I had done so I expected another attack from him. Meanwhile, Roger stayed at his house, had a short talk with Camila, and we both left Malibu back to Hollywood Hills. Camila proposed to the group to hold their own meeting at home since only her parents were present and everyone accepted except for Zac, Karlie and I because we had to do our own show at home. That meant, we had to make stories to keep us in our respective places, all for the rest of our followers so we would arrive later at the meeting. I left Camila at her home and waited for Shawn and Taylor to accompany her to get back on the Tesla and go home. Before that, I saw how Taylor and Karlie said goodbye with a tender kiss and so did Shawn and Zac. Both models went in the cars of their respective partners and the three of us left Camila’s street to our own places.

Once in my apartment, I didn’t take long to make several videos that I uploaded to my Instagram announcing that I would go to a concert and in fact I took advantage of asking Brenda to send me videos of a hip-hop concert to upload them to my stories. I left the publication scheduled for the next hour. I spent another hour in my apartment before driving the Tesla back to the house of my sun, I was only one block from arriving at the house when suddenly something force me to stop abruptly and stop at the edge of a road at that hour almost desert. I didn’t even notice the black BMW of tinted windows and no visible license plate, until a knock on the window of my car made me curse out loud. It wasn’t the police but I knew who they could be. I got out of the vehicle and that was my first mistake, when I saw a man dressed in black and dark glasses grabbed my arm and hit me in the belly with the knee which caused me to lose my breath and fall to my knees. I looked up from the ground and it was my second mistake, a sharp blow to the cheek left my bloodied lip and I fell back to the ground which the man in black took the opportunity to give me two more kicks on my back and my stomach. Then he took me back to the car and threw me into the back seat where I fell half-lying and bloodied cheek staining the white upholstery. The man didn’t mention anything during the entire beating or when he arrived driving to Camila’s house, or when he dragged me out of the car until he stopped with me on my back to ring the bell. It was Alejandro who opened the door and exclaimed my name in a surprised and worried tone when he saw me. - “Lauren?” - I could feel his gaze on me while looking at my torturer - “What happened …?” - “Andrew Gertler and Silvia Rhode send their regards.” - It was all that the man in black mentioned before throwing me to the floor as if I were a sack of potatoes and left in the same BMW car that had stopped me before and was driven by a second thug dressed in black. They disappeared as fast as they had arrived. Alejandro managed to get me up and hold me but I could only think of my sun. - “Camz … I need to see …her…” I didn’t stand up much longer and passed out. The last thing I heard was Alejandro’s scream calling for Camila and then my sun that also shouted my name in despair. - “Lauren! Don’t leave me…! Please love! Wake up…!” ____

When I woke up again I was surrounded by Camila. She had her head on my thigh and I was lying in her room. My whole body ached but I didn’t feel like bothering Camila thinking she would be asleep. When I heard her call me softly I knew I was wrong. - “My love?” - She called me softly - “Are you awake?” - Yes Camz - I tried to smile at her but my lip ached and I complained loudly. When I tried to touch the wounded area. Camila took my hand and prevented it with a sad smile. My poor girl had swollen eyes for crying and I cursed my bad luck again, this time in a low voice. - “Don’t touch there my moon” - she warned me gently stroking my healthy cheek. - “My mom healed your wounds and told me that you had to keep calm.” - “Can you explain what the hell happened?” “How is it that Karlie, Zac and you have come home so injured?” - “What?” - I was so surprised by Camila’s revelation that my first impulse was to get out of bed, obviously the movement hurt my injured body, I complained again and Camila reassured me again. - “Lern, go back to bed” - she asked me again this time in a more serious tone -“ I’ll tell you everything if you promise that you will not move from here.” - “I promise you” - I nodded and tried to calm down waiting for my angel’s explanation - “What happened to them?” - “They arrived not long before you, honey” - Camila’s voice sounded very sad - Taylor and Shawn were cooking pizzas in the kitchen with my mom’s help when Karlie appeared almost in the same state as you, she was brought by a thug of Scooter and Taylor took her. “She was hit in the face and only kicked in the stomach, but Taylor almost went crazy when she saw her injured.” “My parents tried to calm her down and they succeeded, but then Shawn despaired fearing the same thing would happen to Zac …” - “And it happened?” - I asked bitterly and she nodded - “Shit ….” - Zac arrived twenty minutes after Karlie and also got hurt but in the same way as Karlie. “Just a couple of hits.” “But you my love … see how they left you …” - “I have to apologize to them, Camz …” - I wasn’t worried about me, I was worried about them. They who also paid my mistake and didn’t have to - “Where are they?” - “Down in the living room” - Camila mentioned this time with a smile - “They are not angry with you well, Shawn a little, but not to the degree of hating you.” - “I have to see them” - I asked my girl again quietly anxious to get out of bed - “I can walk, my sun. I just need some extra support. Would you do it for me?” I gave my princess my best pout and got what I wanted. I left my place in the white bed and cursed out loud because of the pain but I kept quiet when I heard Camila warn me that if she heard another complaint from me I would not leave the bed until morning. I had to put on my best face because I hated to complain so I didn’t do it anymore and I managed to get to the lounge where the rest of the guys were meeting talking and eating pizza. They didn’t even realize we had arrived because they talked loudly until I decided to stand next to Camila in front of them and call the group out loud. - “Guys?” - I watched them all with a desolate expression - “Forgive me. Please….” - “Oh my God, Lauren …” - Taylor complained loudly looking at me with surprise - “Look how you are, girl …. those bastards.” Taylor then stared at Shawn who had stopped eating his pizza and also looked at me sadly - “You know it was Andrew. Right, Shawn?” - “No … - Shawn shook his head without wanting to believe Taylor’s words - "Andrew never-” - “He’s forcing you to do a PR with me Shawn” - Camila complained while helping me settle on the couch where Karlie and Zac were rested from their own wounds. Karlie shook my hand and looked at me with a sad smile. - “I’m sorry girl ..”. - she apologized and I shrugged - “I am the one who should apologize Karlie, I convinced you both to join my revenge, it’s my fault. I’m really sorry Zac.” - “I know Laur, but it’s not your fault because Karlie and I accepted” - the Australian boy looked at the blonde and she nodded - “Don’t blame yourself for that.” - “But you are also hurt and”-

I couldn’t keep keeping my talk quietly with both models because Camila was arguing loudly with Shawn and they both seemed very upset.

- “You know that Andrew is capable of doing it Shawn” - Camila complained facing her friend - “That man is forced to stop you being what you are because it is bad for your career and your image, as they are doing with me and what they do with Tay.” “As they do with everyone.” “Why can’t you believe that he was the reason that now my Lern is hurt?” - “Because he doesn’t handle himself like that, Mila” - the Canadian boy complained again looking at my sun severely - “He’s not as evil as Scooter and other managers.” “At least not like yours that has rumors of being in trouble of sexual harassment.” - “Shawny you don’t understand anything”- Taylor suddenly sighed looking at me and nodding what I did. We both knew very well how rotten the industry was. - “All of them are evil. Everyone.” - She sighed - “You better than anyone know that the industry is surrounded by monsters. That it has an extra income of money that does not come exactly from the sale of records and that they make investments for us thanks to that money that we eventually have to give them back.” - “We are slaves” - I decided to interrupt the discussion out loud - “We are slaves of all of them Shawn and if you believe otherwise then it is because they are manipulating you.” “They only watch over the money we can give them with our music and with all the contracts with which they have tied us.” Shawn remained silent but looked at me still with a frown and I knew what was coming. - “You started it all” - he complained - “You started that fucking revenge and now my Zac is hurt. It’s your fault Lauren.” - “Leave Lauren alone!” - Camila this time exploded against her friend and I tried to comfort her by grabbing her hand before the argument went worse - “Camz! Enough baby, don’t keep up with this” - I asked in a serious tone - “You don’t have to fight because of me guys, we have to solve this shit before it keeps fucking us.” - I looked at Taylor for help - “Can you help us Taylor?” - “Yes,” - she observed Karlie who nodded with a smile - I have an idea but two conditions. Well, there really are three. - Ok, I accept - I said in a serious tone and she nodded - “What are those conditions?” - “The first condition is for everyone to calm down” - she asked - “We don’t get anything to discuss and fight each other because if we do that they win” - the blonde mentioned looking at Camz and Shawn - “Truce?: Camila looked at her friend still with a frown and I forced her to look at me. -"My sun, come on,” - I asked softly smiling and pouting - “You cannot be angry with him, he is still your friend.” My girl still didn’t take off her annoying pout so I had to take out the heavy artillery. Kisses. I took her face with my hands and filled her with kisses avoiding kissing her on the lips which made her laugh and I laughed with her. - “Okay” - Camila nodded to Taylor and looked at Shawn - “It’s a truce but don’t think I do it for me, I do it for Lauren. You and I still have a pending conversation Shawn Raul.” - “Fine Mila, thanks for your answer.” “You can fix your differences later” - Taylor praised with a lively smile and then looked at Shawn who was still as serious as my girlfriend - “Shawn?” A few seconds passed and Shawn said nothing until Zac intervened. - “If you do not respond in this second darling tonight you will sleep on the sofa” - the Australian boy looked at Shawn the same way I looked at Camila. When I got mad at her and sent her to the sofa and I had to bite my tongue to avoid laughing. The two boys were a male version of us and it was a lot of fun to watch. - “You wouldn’t dare love …” - Shawn tried to dissuade his boy but the model shook his head - “Try me …” - “Fuck.” - Shawn shook his head but nodded and looked at Camila - “I accept the truce and accept the talk” - he then looked at Taylor - “Are you happy now girl?” - "Very much, yes" - she smiled enthusiastically and looked at us again - “Well, the second condition is more serious. We have to be careful about what we say here.” - She looked around the room of white walls - “This place may be full of bugs.” - “Bugs?” - Camila suddenly jumped indignantly - “This house is cleaned every day Tay, is not dirty or has bugs.” Taylor and I laughed and soon Zac, Shawn and Karlie followed because we couldn’t help it. My Camz was unique. The laugh got worse when Camila protested the teasing as a little girl pouting. - “Dont laugh!” - She complained - “It’s not funny, I don’t know what all of you are talking about.” I was going to respond to my girl’s complaints, but since I couldn’t stop laughing, it was Karlie who intervened. - “No Mila, Tay didn’t talk about those bugs” - she was still smiling - “Bugs are called spy microphones.” “Taylor thinks your house may be punctured with microphones so we can’t talk about delicate things here.” - 'Oh shit … “- Camila jumped once more now completely paranoid - "Does that mean they have been able to listen to us as many times as you and I… Lolo …?” - “Well baby, it wouldn’t be the first time” - I answered her after stopping to laugh and I shrugged - “Remember the Takeover where DJ, Mani and Ally wanted to see Beyoncé and Ally told you to enjoy your water.” - “Fuck, I remember ”- Camila smiled and I couldn’t help stroking her cheek while she was sitting next to me - “Our fans have never forgotten that Takeover.” Camila laughed and I stole a kiss from her lips. When we took off we looked at the guys who were looking at us with funny smiles and we couldn’t help but blush at the same time. - “I’ve always said you girls look beautiful together ”- Karlie sighed delightedly and I couldn’t help remembering our biggest fan, Dinah. - “Thanks Karlie” - I replied with an embarrassed smile and she nodded looked at Taylor and also kissed her. - I could not believe that the girls were engaged and that they would get married soon, they had been much longer than Camila and I and always seemed like a beautiful couple. Both girls are very different from other blondes without brains that I have known, no doubt. - “So what do we do lovebirds?” - Shawn suddenly asked cutting our festival of kisses - “They can be listening to us right now talking about bugs right?” - “Of course they can, but they can’t tell us anything because then they would give themselves away, dear.” “And if they do, that could also lead to lawsuits for privacy breaches so no, that doesn’t suit them.” - Taylor answered simply - “It is not entirely certain that the house is punctured but prevention is better than regret.” –Taylor then looked at Camila - “I have a way to know if your house is flat, Mila, but of course, I won’t say it now. We will discuss that elsewhere. And that brings me to the third and last condition, guys.” - She looked at us all and smiled again - “Food and movies. Now.” - “I’m in!” - Camila jumped off the couch where she was with me and grabbed Shawn by the hand to take him to the kitchen. She looked happy but I knew that Camila would take the opportunity to make peace with the Canadian boy. My girl hated fighting with her friends. - “You’ve done well princess” - Karlie congratulated Taylor and kissed her and then pushed her into the kitchen with Camila and Shawn. She waited for our partners to be out of earshot and looked seriously at Zac and me. - “I know what Tay has in mind guys” - she sounded worried - “And I don’t like anything. It’s too dangerous and unfortunately we cannot speak it here.” With Zac we saw Karlie understanding and I had an idea when I saw a notebook and pencils on the coffee table in the living room. I grabbed the pencil and wrote on it and then raised it for them to read. - “Is Taylor’s house clean?” “Yes or no” Karlie nodded and I wrote again - “Is your house clean?” “Yes or no” The blonde shook her head and I sighed discouraged but wrote again: - “Can we meet at Taylor’s house?” “Yes or no” She shrugged but grabbed another paper and pencil and wrote on her own, lifted the paper just as I did. - “But I know what can help” “There is a machine that can tracks bugs and I know who can provide me with one of them” “We can do it this week and I’ll talk to Tay about it.” - Thank you - I nodded to the blonde model and she nodded back smiling - “It’s nothing Laur.” I was going to speak again but I was interrupted by the guys who returned from the kitchen with more pizzas and soft drinks and also a bottle of red wine. - “Wine is for those of us who are healthy, not for the wounded.” “Sorry children” - Taylor announced with a joking smile looking at Zac, Karlie and I that we were looking back at her pouting - “Don’t put those faces because you and especially you Jauregui, are with painkillers so there is no wine for you.” - “Camz!” - I complained to Camila and Zac did the same with Shawn. Both friends shrugged and Camila spoke. - “You heard the boss” - she smiled and looked at me tenderly - “It’s for your own sake my moon.” - “Of course Camila” - I said with a hint of annoyance but jokingly - “It’s for my good but it will be me who will have to carry your drunk ass when you pass, right?” - Well, I’m used to doing that with my princess - Karlie answered for Camila without paying attention to my complaint - She doesn’t always do it so that’s fine. Taylor hid her head in Karlie’s chest, embarrassed. - Shawn is a light weight so I’m just as used to it - Zac also responded like Karlie and kissed his boyfriend - “Besides, I love how crazy he gets when he drinks, he doesn’t always do it but it’s a lot of fun.” - “Have you seen Lern?” - Camila gave me a gentle blow in my arm jokingly - “They don’t complain Why do you?” - “It was a joke angel” - I laughed tickling her to erase her pout and I did it - “I’m also used to carrying your drunken ass as you are used to carrying mine. I really don’t know how we do it but we do it.” - “Well, if the girls have stopped talking about drunken butts, we have to decide what movie we will watch”- Taylor ended our mini-discussion smiling, knowing that on that subject another worse argument would come that Camz would lose now. - Terror It was the unanimous response that as always, Camila didn’t share. - “Ahhh!” “Why do you always choose terror?” - My sun was a baby at that time again - “You know I hate it, Lauren …!” I managed to appease my girlfriend the way she always calms down, with more kisses. And while she was still upset with our choice, the one that won was me because I could snuggle with her throughout the movie until she fell asleep in my arms. Carrying her weight made my wounds hurt a little, but that didn’t stop me from hugging her. The same happened with our friends. Shawn and Taylor had more endurance than Camila but they were more tired and they fell asleep before the Exorcist, the original version, ended. Taylor also fell asleep in Karlie’s arms and Shawn fell asleep in Zac’s arms. We decided to leave the second horror movie about poltergeists as background noise and chatted quietly. - “We won’t leave them doing it, right?” - I told both of us referring to our partners - That they risk themselves again for us. - “No, of course not”- Karlie agreed - “Not if we can help it.” - We will find the way, Laur - Zac also nodded - They will be safe. - “I know” - I nodded with a sigh kissing Camila’s hair while she slept - “We have to.”

And we would do it. For the love of them we would sacrifice everything. ______ *Mickey Hess is the actual partner of Josh K

___________

I have to start by saying that I didn’t plan to write a sequel to this story. It was a simple idea to imagine the night of the AMA’s with Lauren by uploading an image of Camila to her Instagram and then facing the consequences, and now she became Camila with Lauren, Karlie with Taylor and Shawn with Zac. Now I am planning to write the outcome of this story in a third part, soon. Thanks @blogbeautiffulthings for helping me with the English edition, you really saved my life but if you folks find mistakes, I apologize.

#camren #kaylor #the shadow's punishment #sequel #camren fanfiction #camila cabello #lauren jauregui #taylor swift #karlie kloss #zac stenmark #sm #contracts #ama's

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years

Text

If Found Please Call

This fic idea wouldn’t leave me alone, so I stayed up until one am writing it. Hopefully it’s not a hot mess. Based on my own experiences as a not-so soccer mom.

Summary: Emma Swan wasn’t trying to give Henry’s soccer coach Killian Jones her phone number. She was just sick and tired of her kid losing his water bottles.

Rating; G

Words: 3,000 +

Can also be read on Ao3

Tagging @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @kday426 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @teamhook @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @ohmakemeahercules @distant-rose @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines

Emma Swan doesn’t ask for a three and a half bath house or high-end SUV. She doesn’t need to take her son for a week at Disney World at the Grand Floridian. But she would like for once to be able to just say yes to the little things without doing mathematical gymnastics in her head. Henry’s currently begging her for a water bottle to take to soccer, and damn it, this shouldn’t be such a big deal.

But she’s a single mom and pinching pennies just seems to be part of the deal. She doesn’t even have the added bonus of a child support check. Scratch that, having Neal in their lives wouldn’t be worth the pennies he’d most likely throw their way.

You’d think a water bottle wouldn’t be a major purchase. But first of all, this is no ordinary water bottle. This is a metal Thermos with a flip top straw that promises to keep beverages cool for twelve hours. And since Emma bought one for herself to take on stake outs, she can attest to the legitimacy of that claim. With ice still rattling around inside.

But, they aren’t cheap, at least in Emma’s opinion. She spent twenty-five bucks on hers. Henry wants a slightly smaller one, which is twenty, but that’s still a lot for a water bottle. Especially considering how many water bottles she’s already bought for the kid that he’s promptly lost. When she points this out to him, he naturally begins his debate skills which are surprisingly well-honed for a twelve-year-old.

“But this one is special, so I won’t forget it.”

She raises both eyebrows. “Special how?” Aside from keeping drinks ice cold for twelve hours.

“It’s an Avengers one.”

She crosses her arms and purses her lips at that. They’ve had this debate so many times. Her son is crazy about all things Marvel, while Emma is strictly a DC girl. She maintains that Superman and Supergirl alone could have defeated Thanos. One holds him down, the other yanks off the gauntlet, they use their heat vision to destroy the thing, and bing-bang-boom, the Justice League is home by dinner. Mary Margaret maintains it has more to do with her taste in tall and dark Tom Welling or Henry Cavill as opposed to the blonde and muscled Chrises of the world. Not that Henry’s picked up on that particular aspect of her Superman obsession.

“You can check that I have it after practice, I swear,” Henry quickly changes tactics to avoid another Avengers vs. Justice League argument.

She rolls her eyes, and Henry’s mouth is open for his next argument before she can speak. Being a single mom and having the job she does, she’s enlisted the help of every one of her closest friends to make sure Henry gets where he’s supposed to be and is supervised. Emma herself can barely make sure Henry’s got his cleats and shin guards, much less keep up with a water bottle. She certainly can’t expect David or Mary Margaret or Ruby to remember. Aside from that, she’s pretty sure Henry has left past water bottles all over Storybrooke park, not just on the soccer fields. He has a bad habit of running off to do the myriad of things boys do while waiting to be picked up. Last week, David found him and his friends playing in the creek by the parking lot. She’s pretty sure water bottle number 12 is floating its way to the Atlantic by now.

“But the environment, Mom! Remember those YouTube videos of all the plastic water bottles?”

Well, shit. Now he’s gone and pulled the “we need to save the environment” card. And yes, she was horrified at the mountains of disposable water bottles in the landfills and the beaches covered in hundreds that had washed ashore. Hell, it’s why she bought Henry the other dozen water bottles that he’s lost. And she takes waste seriously, really she does, but she’s trying to raise a kid here. If she carries the weight of the world too, she’ll end up mumbling in a corner somewhere. So when Henry kept losing the reusable bottles she kept buying, she had given up and starting buying cases of water at the grocery store to keep in the Bug. That way, her kid stayed hydrated without constant nagging.

“Henry,” she groaned, rubbing at the tension headache mounting behind her right eye, “I want to be green and all that, but you’ve lost every single reusable bottle I’ve gotten you. And none of those cost as much as this one.”

“We’ll put my name on it!”

“Your name was on the last one. Fat lot of good it did when you dropped it in the creek.” So much for saving the environment.

Henry rolled his eyes and it was way too familiar for her comfort. “Coach got onto us for that, remember? No more playing in the creek.”

Henry’s coach, Killian Jones, was the envy of every other soccer team in the rec league. He was British, and apparently, that automatically meant he knew more about soccer than anyone else in Storybrooke. Not that Emma would know. She was the farthest thing from a soccer mom. All she knew was the ball went into the net, and if the goalie didn’t stop it, they scored. No, that wasn’t right. Henry told her it was a keeper, not a goalie. God, she was awful at this sports mom thing.

Other parents cheered specific instructions to their kids from the sidelines, but Emma didn’t know enough to do that. She just clapped and yelled for the kids to “go.” Emma couldn’t even yell the other kids’ names. She missed so many practices, she hadn’t learned any of them.

“It’s okay, Mom,” Henry had told her. “Sometimes the parents are yelling stuff that’s wrong anyway. I think it annoys Coach Jones.”

If the man was annoyed, he never showed it. There had been so many games when Emma was thankful her son had gotten on his team, and it had nothing to do with his superior British knowledge of the game. He was calm and collected, while other coaches got red in the face and way too intense. He smiled and encouraged the boys, while other coaches yelled things at their players that made Emma cringe. Not that Coach Jones didn’t get loud, but it was to call out instructions to his players or to cheer them on.

Of course, some of the other single moms (and some of the married ones) were glad to have Coach Jones for other reasons. The man was easy on the eyes, there was no doubt about it. Some of the available women had even made rather obvious advances on the man, which he seemed to deflect with easy grace. But not Emma. What little romantic life she had was kept completely separate from Henry which made his coach off limits. Her romantic life was kept on the surface level too, but that was neither here nor there.

“We could add a phone number.”

Emma shakes her head to clear it of thoughts of Coach Jones and his blue eyes, easy smile, and how good he looks in soccer shorts. What were her and Henry talking about again? Oh right, the water bottle.

“You know,” Henry repeats, shaking the Avengers Thermos at her, “if found, call?”

Emma thinks about the mountains of plastic bottles in landfills, guilt rising up. She thinks of how much easier it would be if she didn’t have to buy a case of water every time she went to the store and how much space would be freed up in her tiny Bug without all those bottles of water. She looks into Henry’s eager face, and she caves.

“Fine.”

“Yes,” Henry cheers, pumping his fist.

As soon as they get home, Emma gets out the masking tape. Careful to avoid the Avengers logo, she labels it “Henry Swan. If found, please call 555-0980.”

****************************************************

It’s a week later, and Emma is on another stake out. She’s just received a text from David that he’s dropped Henry off at the apartment. She’s got Ruby lined up to head over at nine if Emma’s still working. Knowing her son’s taken care of relieves some of the tension she’s been carrying in her shoulders, and she relaxes a bit while still keeping her eyes trained on the apartment building across the street.

Her phone rings, and she frowns when she sees Coach Jones flash across her screen. She only has his number saved for when he sends out texts to the team about when the games are, what color jerseys to wear, and alerting them if a game gets rained out. He doesn’t have to, most of the other coaches assume the parents follow the team portal on the rec website, and Emma is incredibly grateful that he’s so considerate. It’s one less thing she has to stress about.

But he’s never called her, and seeing his name now has her going into immediate mom-panic mode where she jumps to the worst possible scenario. She imagines Henry getting bullied by some of the bigger players. He can’t have been injured at practice, or David would have told her, but what if Coach Jones noticed something more subtle? She saw a movie on Netflix about a figure skater who kept coughing at practice and ended up dying of a rare throat cancer.

She shakes her head at her own ridiculousness and answers the call. “Coach Jones, is everything okay?”

“Oh yes, Ms. Swan, I didn’t mean to worry you,” he assures her in his smooth accent. “I just have Henry’s Thermos here.”

“Oh,” Emma replies, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, “thank you. He’s always forgetting his damn water bottles.”

Coach Jones chuckles. “He’s not the only lad on the team that has that habit, I can assure you.”

Emma bites her lip as his accent wreaks havoc with her hormones. Are all British men so eloquent?

“Shall I bring it by?” he continues.

“Um, no,” Emma says, “I’m working still, and I don’t feel comfortable -”

“Say no more, Ms. Swan,” he cuts her off, “I understand completely. Tell me your place of employ and perhaps I could bring it to you there.”

“That’s a bit complicated . . . I’m . . . kind of on a stake out.”

“Stake out?” he asks, and she thinks he sounds impressed. “Are you a cop?”

“No,” Emma says, a smile lifting the corner of her mouth, “I’m in bail bonds.”

“A bounty hunter?”

Emma laughs at the awe in his voice. “In a way.”

He whistles and his clear admiration makes Emma’s chest swell with ridiculous pride.

“No worries,” he tells her, “now that I’m thinking on it, there’s no reason why I can’t fill it up for Henry myself and bring it to the game Saturday.”

“Could you?”

“I’ll set it on my kitchen counter so I’ll be sure to remember,” he assures her. But it isn’t that she thinks he’ll forget, she’s just still, after all these years, surprised at random acts of kindness, no matter how small.

“Thank you, Coach Jones.”

“Please, Ms. Swan, it’s Killian.”

“Then it’s Emma to you.”

“Goodnight, Emma.”

“Goodnight, Killian.”

*************************************************

When Emma and Henry arrive at the soccer fields on Saturday, Coach Jones, as usual, is already there. He waves as soon as he sees them and jogs over with Henry’s Thermos in his hand.

“Thanks, Coach,” Henry says, taking a swig. Then he’s off to join his teammates on the other side of the field.

Emma swallows a lump in her throat when Coach Jones – Killian – lingers. He ducks his head and scratches behind his ear, and Emma can’t help but think that he’s gathering his courage. She’s suddenly petrified that he’s about to ask her out. Oh God, does he think she put her number on Henry’s thermos as a roundabout way to get him to call her?

“I must ask for your forgiveness, Emma.”

She blinks. Of all the things she thought he might say, that wasn’t it. “For what?”

He rubs at the scruff on his jaw. “I have all parent numbers saved as a group on my phone, just for team communication. I have a strict policy not to socialize with parents. It might make others believe I’m playing favorites you understand.”

“Of course,” Emma says, narrowing her eyes. Where’s he going with this?

The nervousness seems to fall away and his gaze becomes not only sincere, but a bit intense. “But after I called you about Henry’s Thermos, I saved your number as just Emma.” She can see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “And I must confess, I've thought of calling you again many times.”

Emma commands her lips not to turn up in a smile and fails miserably. “I see.”

“I didn’t ask permission to have your number in a social compacity, and for that I apologize.”

Emma shrugs one shoulder. “No need. It’s just a phone number. We’re both adults.” Her lips continue their rebellious ways and she add, “And I don’t think just a phone call or a text here or there would be called socializing. Do you?” Is she seriously standing on the sidelines of her son’s soccer game and flirting with his coach?

Killian’s smile broadens to a full grin, dimpling his cheeks. “Aye. I believe you’re onto something, Swan.”

“I thought I told you. It’s Emma,” she says. So she’s flirting, okay?

He winks. “I didn’t say Ms Swan, now did I? The name suits you.” Then he’s jogging backwards towards his team.

Yes, she’s flirting with Henry’s soccer coach, and he’s flirting right back. The scariest part is that she isn’t scared at all. She’s so screwed.

***************************************************

It’s six weeks later, and Emma has lost count of how many text messages she has received from Killian Jones. She’s also talked to him on the phone almost daily, sometimes for hours on end. He hasn’t so much as touched her, they haven’t even been on a date, and already she’s falling hard. But they both agree that officially dating is out of the question as long as he’s Henry’s coach.

Which is why she’d giddy with excitement today. And simultaneously feeling like the worst mother in the world. Because today is Henry’s last soccer game. Maybe. If they lose, the season is over. If they win, there will be one more week of practice, then two weeks of tournament play that involves some complicated system that is ridiculous in her opinion for a rec league of twelve-year-olds. Is she a horrible mother if she doesn’t want to wait three more weeks to jump Henry’s coach? Oh God, she is. She’s a horrible mother.

She also has to talk to Henry about dating his coach. She may be breaking all her self-imposed rules of romance (yes even the one about keeping things surface level), but Henry still comes first. He’s bouncing with excitement in the passenger’s seat as they drive to the soccer fields, making her feel even more conflicted with each passing moment.

“If we go to the tournament Mom, there’s a trophy for the top three teams. I mean, we all get participation medals, but a trophy is something else!”

Emma bites her lip thinking of Henry’s disappointment if they don’t make the tournament. Three weeks, Emma, it’s only three more weeks . . . so she changes her prayers to whoever is listening that Henry’s team wins after all.

“Henry,” she says when she parks the car, “I need to ask you something important.”

“Okay . . . “

She takes a deep breath, “Would it be okay if I date Coach Jones? I mean, once the season is over?”

Henry frowns, and Emma’s heart beats erratically. If her son is upset by the prospect . . .

“Can he still be my coach next season? Cause I wanna be on his team again, and you can request a coach -”

Emma lifts her hand. “Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?” Although, she doesn’t think it will be a problem if they’re already in an established relationship when the season starts. Wait, she’s totally getting ahead of herself, and she never does that.

“Well, will you ask him before you go on your date? To be sure?”

Emma smiles softly at him. “Is that really the only thing you’re worried about?”

Henry shrugs. “Yeah, I guess so. I mean, it may be a little weird, but he is really great.”

“Yeah, kid, he is.”

**********************************************

The team is packed into Granny’s to celebrate their win. Even though it means three more weeks before she can go on her first date with Killian, Emma can’t help but get swept up with Henry’s enthusiasm. You would think they were going to the World Cup the way the boys are acting. She catches Killian’s eye across the sea of boys shoveling french fries into their mouths, and she knows that taking these kids to the tournament means a lot to him, too. He tears his blue eyes away from her to engage with the boys in front of him, congratulating each of them on how they contributed to their big win. Emma slides away, letting them have this moment.

She finds herself seeking solitude in the hallway near the bathrooms, though the boys are still a dull roar out in the dining room. Someone selects “We are the Champions” on the jukebox, and soon a chorus of warbly prepubescent boys are belting out the tune.

Killian finds her there. He reaches out to touch her elbow hesitantly, and at her soft smile, he rubs both her arms with his hands. She steps away from the wall and closer to him.

“I’m sorry our date is delayed, love.”

Emma shrugs, pushing aside her disappointment. “How can I not be happy for Henry, though? And what about you? I saw you on the sidelines. Are you sure this is just rec soccer? Because you seemed really into it today.”

He laughs, his blush rising to the tips of his elf-shaped ears. “I’m pretty excited, I won’t lie.” He takes a step closer and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. The ghost of a touch is enough to send a shudder through her. “But I’m more excited about our date.”

Her eyes dart from the blue of his eyes down to his lips. “I know we said we couldn’t date while you were Henry’s coach. But I’m not a sure a kiss would -”

He captures her mouth with his before she can finish the sentence. Emma practically loses her balance with the passion and heat of it, grasping onto his soccer jersey with both fists. He presses her against the wall as he deepens it, and Emma thinks she might just rip those soccer shorts off here and now. She whimpers slightly when he pulls away, chasing his lips, and he presses his forehead to hers.

“I was going to ask if I had been too forward, but evidently not,” he teases her.

She doesn’t answer him, she just yanks him close again. If he keeps stealing kisses like this, the next three weeks may not be so bad after all.

And she needs to remember to thank Henry for that phone number idea . . .

#cs ff #captain swan #with a little captain cobra #swan believer #modern au #soccer au #single parenting

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riseandshinelittleblossom · 5 years

Text

Hoping for Home~ Ch. 3- Coming Home

Summary: Sixteen years ago Libby Scott was supposed to become Queen of Cordonia, but Fate had other plans. Catch up here (ya know ya wanna).

Song for this chapter: “Coming Home” by Gwyneth Paltrow

Disclaimer: I don’t own the TRR characters, they own me

Tags: @fullbeaumonty @speedyoperarascalparty @cocomaxley @leelee10898 @ao719 @hopefulmoonobject @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @choiceswreckedme @indiacater @noey718-blog @carabeth @daniv2278 @cosigottahavefaith @gibbles82 @innerpostmentality @blackcoffee85 @perfectprofessorherokid @darley1101 @jovialyouthmusic @liamxs-world @thequeenofcronuts @blznbaby @stopforamoment @zilch3382 @wannabemc2 @jlouise88

Two days had passed since Libby's impromptu dinner with Drake, and they had been some of the hardest of her life. There had been so much talking. She talked with the twins about her past answering any and all questions they had.

Will hadn't had many, except he wanted to know the names of his potential fathers. Libby had found him asleep at his computer desk later, articles about Maxwell and Liam and anything Cordonia-related splashed across his screen.

Emma had been much more receptive, hungrily taking in the story of how she and her brother had come to be. “It sounds like a fairy tale. King's and assassins and, Mom, you're a Duchess! It's so exciting.” Emma had mused, and Libby didn't have the heart to tell her life in Cordonia was anything but a fairy tale.

Drake and McKenzie had been back to her house on both days. She and Drake had talked about any and everything under the sun that didn't involve their shared past. She complained about the harder parts of business ownership and he'd told her all about working on his mother's family ranch.

Last night he'd come bearing a bottle of single malt whiskey and the throbbing in her head reminded her that they had indeed finished it.

As she made her way into the living room, headed for the kitchen, she found the pull out couch she'd made up for Mack and Drake had been put away. The linens and pillows we're folded and neatly stacked on the armchair and McKenzie smiled from her seat on the couch watching TV.

Libby followed the smell of fresh brewed coffee and pancakes to find Drake over the stove wearing her brown and tan fox apron as he scrambled some eggs.

“Who are you?” She asked him.

He wiped his hands on the apron and poured her a cup of coffee which she accepted, walking past him to the fridge in search of cream.

“It's me and Mack's last day here, so I wanted to thank you for sharing your home with us the past couple of days.” He said simply.

Libby swiped a piece of bacon from the stack next to the stove when something caught her eye on the fridge. A cheap magnetic “grocery list” pad hung on the door and she noticed Drake had scrawled 'eggs, bacon, orange juice’ at the top. At the bottom he'd written three phone numbers. He noticed her confusion so he piped up, “The top one is mine. Then Liam's. Maxwell's is at the bottom. Just in case.”

After breakfast Libby tore off the page that hung on the fridge. Drake refused to let her help him and Mack wash the dishes so she excused herself, taking her coffee with her to sit on the back porch.

Her hands flew over her phone as she punched in the last number on the paper. It rang twice and then there was an answer.

“Yell-oh?”

Libby froze her heart pounding so hard in her chest she thought her ribs may break.

“Hello? Is somebody there?”

Her head was spinning as she opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“Okay I'm hanging up now. Have a nice evening.”

Libby panicked. “M-Maxwell? Maxwell Beaumont?” She squeaked.

She heard his familiar chuckle through the phone. “You're speaking to him. May I ask who's calling?”

Her eyes went wide. What was she supposed to say?

“Sorry I didn't mean to bother you. I-I just..” she stammered but he interrupted her.

“Libby? Is that you?” he sounded mystified.

Silence.

“How did you get this number? Hello? Libby?”

In all of her life she had never smashed the end call button so fast.

Chest heaving and eyes as wide as sand dollars she gulped her coffee, kicking herself for even attempting that call. She peered inside her French doors to see Drake was still washing dishes, so she picked up her phone and made another call.

“Libby! I'm so happy to hear from you! How're the twins?” Hana’s bright voice answered.

“They're great. How's Abel? How're you?”

“Everything is fantastic here, Abel and me included.”

“Good...guess what I'm looking at right now.” Libby laughed.

“Um...a coffee mug?”

Libby could visualize Hana checking her wristwatch, noting the early hours in the States.

“Drake Walker. Washing my dishes.”

“OHMIGAWD! Libby, I didn't say a word! How did he find you?”

“Relax, Hana. It was total coincidence. But seeing him again has made me think… the twins are turning 16 in 6 weeks. It's Cordonian custom to introduce noble heirs to court before their 16th birthday right?”

“Spot on, Lib.” She was quiet a few moments before she continued. “Are you sure about this?”

“I'm not sure about anything anymore, to be honest. Seeing Walker has really messed things up around here,but the twins want to know. Can you pull off a ball in 6 weeks time?”

“Consider it planned, Duchess.” Hana giggled. “I can't wait to see you. Um, but do you want me to invite-?”

“The King and Queen, of course. The Duke and Duchess of Ramsford. And it's Lord. The whole court, Hana. I'm prepared to face them.” Libby lied.

***************

Ramsford, Cordonia - present day

Maxwell stared down at his phone, heart slamming against his ribs. His first thought had been to immediately dial the number back. If it really was Libby she likely wouldn't answer anyway. He had played this game with her before, and although he was persistent, in the end he'd conceded.

He frowned at his glass of red wine, suddenly feeling like tonight this just wasn't going to be strong enough. He plucked a bottle of bourbon from his bar cart pouring himself a few fingers worth, sipping it slowly as his mind traveled to thoughts of Libby Scott.

**************

Ramsford, Cordonia 16 years ago

“...your quickstep is a little…” Maxwell started.

“Slow. Again.” Bertrand commanded and Libby and Maxwell once more got into the starting position.

Not that he needed to be told to wrap his arms around her. He was more than happy to dance with her as many times as his brother saw fit.

Everything about Libby Scott was intoxicating-Her laugh, her shampoo, the way the ballroom lights twinkled in her eyes- and Maxwell was suiting up for a hangover he may never recover from.

She'd stolen his heart right away, on that first night in New York. In the beginning he had thought it was only a school boy crush, but all the time they'd spent together during the social season had solidified something within him, and now he couldn't get enough.

He found himself becoming less and less willing to share her, hoarding every second they could possibly be together. He was even starting to resent Bertrand for hanging around so much, although the two of them were training her in all manner of courtly etiquette.

Bertrand's phone rang as Maxwell and Libby spun.

“I have to take this, but don't stop dancing. Lady Scott must be in perfect form by the time the engagement tour begins.”

As soon as his brother was gone, Maxwell pulled her closer, much closer than was appropriate for a courtly dance.

“I thought he would never leave.” He whispered in her ear, earning himself a small laugh from his beloved. She twisted her face to meet his, their lips and noses brushing as she spoke.

“And what will you do with me, Lord Beaumont, now that our babysitter is gone?”

He smirked and pressed his lips to hers, savoring the taste.

Her actions begged to deepen the kiss, and he parted his mouth to oblige, their tongues rolling together in a frenzy.

No longer were they twirling, they were simply standing in the near center of the ballroom with their bodies clasped so closely together that Maxwell couldn't tell where he ended and Libby began. The rest of the world melted away as he tangled his long slender fingers through her fiery hair. Time seemed to stand still in that moment, until the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat dragged Maxwell back to reality.

The couple parted with a loud *smack,* whirling around to find Bertrand looking somewhere between angry and appalled.

He squared his shoulders and adjusted his blazer sleeves. “Lady Libby, I believe that's enough practice for right now. I'd like to have a moment alone with my little brother, please.”

*******************

En route to Cordonia - Present day

Will tapped Emma's shoulder as he slouched down in his seat. She pulled her earbuds out and quirked a brow at him.

“What do you think they're gonna be like?” he asked, fiddling with his fingers, his voice barely above a whisper. Emma snuggled down into her chair, now level with her twin.

“Well you read all about them. You tell me.”

Will fingered his shoelace, twirling it between his fingers. After a few moments he replied, “I think that King Liam is pragmatic. I like a lot of the equality policies he's put into place since he became king. The general consensus throughout Cordonia seems to be that he's a wise and fair king.

Lord Beaumont finished fourth in his class at Cordonia University. He speaks seven languages and he has a Master's degree in political science. A minor in accounting. So he seems intelligent. I found a few articles about him in Trend Magazine back around the time we were born. He's been married twice. There were rumors that he was a drunk and a party guy.” Will shrugged.

“It sounds like we'd be lucky to have either man be our dad.” Emma told him. “But they're still just articles. The authors likely don't know Lord Beaumont or the King personally. We should be open to giving them both a chance when we meet them.”

Will sighed heavily, his head lolling to the side as he peered out window.

“I don't mean to be rude, but you know I have met both the King and Lord Beaumont. Liam is my godfather and Max is my uncle. A lot of what you read on click it and in Trend or wherever else is bullshit.” McKenzie said.

Will whipped his head in her direction as Emma giggled.

“Well then, tell us what they're really like.” The blonde girl prompted.

McKenzie picked at a loose thread in the hole on her jeans.

“The King is….he has a boyish charm. Everyone adores him. He's fiercely determined and very guarded. I don't mean physically, but his emotions. Even when he's sad he still smiles.

Uncle Max is seriously the funniest guy in the world. He's constantly like, making silly faces and telling bad jokes, or dancing to music that isn't there. But he's also very serious. Like two sides of a coin. And when you talk to him, he actually hears you. Like he isn't just waiting for his turn to talk ya know?”

Will stared at her a moment.

“I just wanna know, ya know? Like who are we? Where did we come from? Why did Mom keep this secret for so long? Last week I barely knew Cordonia was a place and now, I might be the crown prince. You might be the princess. Our mom is a freaking Duchess?” He shook his head. “I'm so pissed off at her.”

He slammed his knuckles into the armrest causing his sister to jump.

“Hey. It's okay. I'll be with you the whole time. I won't let my dad take me Away. And Emma will be there too, so you won't ever be alone.” McKenzie told him reaching over Emma to place a hand on Will's thigh.

He smiled at her. “Thanks. I'm thankful for that.”

“And Abel. I can't wait to see him.” Emma gushed referring to Hana's son. He and Hana had visited the twins and Libby every summer and Emma had always been particularly close to Abel.

Will rolled his eyes. “Of course you're excited to see him. You totally have a crush on Mr-Im-perfect-at-everything.”

“Hush! All he's ever tried to be is your friend, Will. It's not his fault he beats you at every game.” Emma scolded as her brother mumbled under his breath.

Libby peered over the back of her seat at her twins.

“Hey guys look out the window. We're about to fly over Cordonia. They view is breathtaking. It's always been my favorite part of flying in.” She told them.

Emma lunged across her brother's lap plastering her face against the window. Will reluctantly peeked out too as Libby and McKenzie grinned.

The waters surrounding Cordonia were pristine and the perfect shade of inviting blue.

“Wooooooow. It's like something from a storybook. Isn't it beautiful, Will?!” Emma squealed.

Her brother scoffed, “it's something alright.”

Libby eyed her son. Although she could tell he was impressed she allowed him to continue to brood. She wished for the millionth time that she knew how to reach him.

“Can we see Valtoria from here?”he asked.

Libby shook her head. “Unfortunately it's too far from the airport. But we'll be there soon enough. You're going to love it in particular, Will. Valtoria is heavily wooded, perfect for camping. And there's an outdoor fun park, complete with it's very own paintball field right on the estate grounds.”

For the first time in days Will actually smiled as he turned from the window to face his mother.

“Cool.” He commented.

Emma sat back in her seat as the pilot announced their descent. “Well I can't wait to see it, Mom. Or Aunt Hana, Uncle Mark, and Abel. We've never been to their house before.”

“Actually,” McKenzie said. “Although they have their own holdings in Whipstaff, a county within Valtoria, Aunt Hana and Uncle Mark live in your house. The estate at Valtoria belongs to the Duchess.”

The blonde girl smiled as she buckled her seat belt, gripping each armrest. “Even better.”

****************

Cordonian Capital- present day

Liam snapped his head up from his desk as his wife entered his study, her heels clicking across the marble floors as she marched straight up to his desk. His first instinct told him she was angry, but as she slammed an elegant piece of heavy card stock down on the mahogany surface he caught a wry grin forming at the edges of her lips.

“Hello, Darling. What have we here?” He asked sliding the paper from under her polished nails.

“An invitation that you are going to be very interested in seeing.” She remarked, clicking her tongue.

Liam read over the document three times before he finally looked up at Olivia whose arms were now neatly folded over her chest. “Heirs..?” he said aloud. “There are two of them?”

The queen nodded. “Apparently so. She sure did take her sweet time starting a family though. And why haven't we heard about a husband? Or hell, even a wife?”

He tossed the paper on his desk. “I have a summit meeting in Italy the next morning. I don't think we will be able to make it.”

He removed his glasses, tossing them aside as well.

“Liam, as your wife I'm telling you that you had better find a way to reschedule that meeting. But as your friend, I'm telling you that if you don't reschedule it I will kill you and make it look like an accident.” A wide smile plastered itself on Olivia's face as Liam chuckled.

“Ah, Liv. I thought I smelled a hint of treason in the room.”

“You never really know with me, dear. I think that’s what keeps things interesting.” she sat on the edge of the desk, smoothing her dress over her knees.

“We have to be there, Liam. I really want to see Libby, and I’ll be damned if I’m going alone.”

Liam laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair.

“I’ll do my best, Darling.” he told her.

#hoping for home au #hoping for home #trr fan fic #trr fanfiction #the royal romance #maxwell beaumont #king liam #olivia nevrakis #drake walker

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personaehq · 5 years

Photo

INCOMING MESSAGE …

FULL NAME: ikeda shiro ALIAS: originally dee, aoi, tomomi ANDROID TYPE: DHC#453 MANUFACTURE DATE: 2116 PHYSICAL AGE: 26 ALIGNMENT: pro-defiant OCCUPATION: barista at lenoir café AFFILIATION: n/a ACCOMMODATION: ecostay apartments, sangenjaya FACECLAIM: moon taeil

ACCESSING: BACKGROUND …

LIFE BEGAN AS DHH#004, nicknamed ‘ dee ’. his eyes opened and he was greeted with a lovely apartment living room, a tired woman, and a sweet two year old child who looked at him with large doe eyes. he greeted them kindly, politely, like he was programmed to do. ground rules were laid and he was left on his own to tend to the woman’s child, asuka. he was good to the child and the child grew attached to him in place of his no-show father who didn’t bother attending any of the chaperoned visits with his own son.

years passed by like this, dee blissfully ignorant of his life being nothing more than a tool for his human owners. he had no opinion when the mother took back her ex-husband, now sobered and clean of his drugs thanks to a few months in rehab. he just knew he needed to side step the man whenever they were in the same room together. dee was none the wiser to the real truth about the man. until…

one evening, the mother had to stay late and instructed dee to cook dinner for the family in her absence as she knew her husband couldn’t cook. there was soon shouting from the living room as dee worked, asuka running from the living room and into the kitchen to hide behind dee. by this time, the father was drunk and irate at something asuka had done and chased his son into the room with his belt in hand, heavy buckle dangling menacingly.

dee calculated it in his head — asuka shuddering as he hugged dee’s waist, the man in front of him looking right at asuka with anger in his eyes and determination in his steps. his protocol gave him no information on what to do, but asuka begged for dee’s help and dee backed up, chin tilting. just that action drew that deadly anger to dee instead.

the first hit from the buckle caused his left audio processor to bust and he could hear asuka whimpering somewhere behind him. dee could only tell asuka to run away as the man grabbed at dee to move him but he didn’t dare budge, giving asuka enough time to run. by then the man didn’t even care about running after his son. no… all his anger was taken out on dee.

ii.

LIFE AS IPS#453, aka aoi, was good. aoi wasn’t one of the super popular models, but he was known well enough. every couple of months his memory was wiped as per protocol, but strangely, he remembered everything from the very beginning of his entire career at the club. he knew he shouldn’t, but he got too naive about it.

a returning customer of his rented him every month, sometimes twice a month, and take him where they could do whatever they liked. aoi didn’t mind it, he liked being able to please this customer to the point that he grew desperate to do whatever he could for them. aoi would whisper sweet nothings when his client would calm after their time.

one time, the sweet nothings became a soft confession. aoi thought it was romantic and so he smiled, thinking nothing of the look of shock and lack of response from his partner. they merely smiled shakily and ended their session early. it was a sting, but aoi knew his love would come back. they always did.

that was the last time he saw them and the club, and he would never know it until later that his love had turned him in and he’d been wiped clean and sold to a shop as faulty.

iii.

HE’S AWAKENED AS TOMOMI, DHC#453, to two weary parents and a screaming child. they’re both business orientated and hadn’t intended to get pregnant, but they loved their child so they had tomomi specially fixed up to fit their needs. his job was to tend to the child and take care of the house. being an android, tomomi wouldn’t need any sleep and very little charge time. he was perfect for their needs.

and tomomi, well, he shouldn’t have felt happiness when he first held matsuko, the little newborn going quiet in his arms. but he did.

the memories of his previous ‘lives’ came back after a year of tending to matsuko, but they didn’t bother him. how could they? he was happy where he was and, honestly, he considered matsuko to be his baby. the parents had very little to do with the child so tomomi had fun teaching the child and being witness to her growth and her firsts of everything. the first time he was called ‘dada’ he sobbed against matsuko’s pretty hair and held her to his chest where his artificial heart beat a hollow tune.

there were times when the parents would take over and he hated those times, but he couldn’t act out, couldn’t let them know of his defiance already. he struggled during times the family would go out for the day, leaving him behind to clean up. the quiet unnerved him and all he had were his thoughts and none of them were ever good. he avoided mirrors, kept his head low near anything reflective. he didn’t want to see the new face he had now that he remembered all the way back to his first family. days were easier when it was just him and matsuko.

four years he knew matsuko; four years of holding her, cooing to her, cleaning her up, and witnessing every single first. she was his in all the ways that counted.

until she wasn’t.

he had taken her out for her birthday with the permission of her parents. he was given the money to buy some groceries for the house and a little extra for an ice cream cone for matsuko. she didn’t want to stay in his arms so he had let her down but was holding her hand the whole time, but rush hour separated them. he abandoned everything on the street in favor of looking for her.

yelling and then a loud crash drew his attention briefly, gasps of horror echoing around him as he moved towards the commotion. he’d never forget seeing his child on the concrete, the screech of sirens, and the looks of disgust as he wandered out into the road, the weight of his model emblemed shirt weighing him down like an anvil.

the parents were livid and hysterical, both of them taking shots at him with words and then with a slap to the face. the words were what hurt the most. he deserved them, so he stood there and allowed them this, letting himself pretend to be nothing more than an android who failed. inside, he was weeping, mourning the loss of matsuko. he knew he would be shipped away, sold, whatever — but he didn’t think he could handle another time of waking up as a new incarnation of himself with a new name.

so he ran. and he hid away.

iv.

NIJI WAS A KIND MAN. he took tomomi in, nicknamed him ‘shiro’; there were two other androids with niji also nicknamed after colors — midori and murasaki. with them, shiro slowly came to terms with losing matsuko and the many different lives he’d had. they made a family that shiro was accepted into and he thrived. aoi was a later addition to their little family, but she was accepted in happily and shiro helped take care of her.

they were like nomads in the lower level, moving from one hotel to another. they always rented one room, stayed a few nights if money allowed it, and then moved to another place. sometimes, they would stay in an old warehouse. shiro was the first one beyond niji to go out of his way to help bring in a bit of money by taking a small job in one of the little places near one of the hotels they frequented. it allowed them peace of mind at the very least.

life was bliss again for a while.

shiro doesn’t remember why it happened, only that it did. one minute he and his family were wandering around enjoying themselves, and the next midori was yelling at him to run and don’t look back. a man, a human, attacked them — maybe it was a group of them, shiro didn’t want to remember so he doesn’t. all he could recall is midori’s begging for him to run, for him to live.

thus, shiro got help for the injuries sustained in the attack, and lived.

THE LOWER LAYER BECAME HIS HOME, head down to avoid the defiant movement and make his way to the hotel where he had a permanent little room. the owner liked him well enough and she wasn’t in the know of his origins as an android ( and if she was, she wasn’t going to rat him out ). he liked the hotel, it reminded him of his family, of midori. but he knew he needed a more permanent location, so to ecostay he went, renting the cheapest apartment he could while using the fake id niji had made for him.

lenoir cafe is where he worked before, and he continued working there. midori helped him learn how to be a barista when he was still alive, so it was another way for shiro to cling to the past. he remembered midori being stationed in the upper layer, and he knew his previous wakings took place here as well so he never spent too much time in the upper layer. but it was nice, so he’d enjoy it when he could go.

he just doesn’t expect to be caught in the middle of a riot the next time he goes.

ACCESSING: PERSONALITY…

POSITIVE TRAITS: gentle, protective, wise NEGATIVE TRAITS: secretive, self-pitying, overemotional

shiro is a good person, filled to the brim with love and nowhere for it to go. through all his ‘wake ups’, he has never changed personality, not once. he’s gentle in both touch and with words, soft voice and sweet smiles are his staple. while he pities himself, he’s not one to lie around with it. he internalizes a lot of it and it puts him in a somber mood, his usual smile vacant from his face. kindness might be his biggest and best trait, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stop himself from giving another a stern warning or sharp comment. he might not stand up for himself, but for others, he’s quick to step into at least a verbal ring. do not mistake his kindness for weakness, that’s a mistake one musn’t make with shiro. at least not when it concerns the ones he cares for. he’d go to most any length to protect them if need be.

… END OF MESSAGE.

#android #t #a

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