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x-rainflame-x · 2 years

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A Stitch in Time Saves Lives- FMA One-shot

Helloooo @dragontamer05 I'm your Secret Santa (pinch-hitter) :DDD Hope your holidays were amazing, and your new year off to a fabulous start <3

Summary: A dry-cleaning accident ruins Greed's jacket, and now the team must come together to save both it and the dog chimera responsible.

Tags: Humor, shenanigans, family, Devil's Nest crew, making fun of Greed's (lack of) taste, Martel has to put up with a lot.

XxXxX

“I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today,” Dolcetto began, his behavior unusually solemn for the typically easy-going dog chimera.

Martel in fact was wondering, because she had been knee-deep in the final book of her favorite period drama, and a secret meeting in the dark sewers underneath The Devil’s Nest with her four obnoxious “brothers” was taking her away from the big finale.

“Are you going to tell us, or are you going to make us guess?” Ulchi griped, crossing his big muscly arms and giving Dolcetto a glare that was nothing short of reptilian.

Without any more preamble, Dolcetto pulled a garment from behind his back and laid it out on the stone floor.

Martel felt her cold blood go just a bit colder.

“Is that . . .” Bido began, horror dripping off every syllable.

Dolcetto nodded. “Greed’s jacket.”

Forbidding silence stole their voices for a long while, the true magnitude of the situation settling heavy on their shoulders. Sewer water bubbled and rushed past as Martel saw visions of their impending doom play out in her mind’s eye in increasingly creative scenarios.

Bido, never one for silent contemplation, couldn’t take it anymore.

“We’re dead!” he wailed, fretting his spongey fingers together, long tail swishing in anxiety. “We’re dead, we’re dead, we’re dead! He’s going to kill you Dolcetto, and then he’s going to kill all of us just because we know!”

Roa, ever the level-headed one, brought a meaty fist down on Bido’s head, effectively halting the tirade.

“What happened?” Martel demanded, hoping no one heard how weak her voice had become.

“Greed’s favorite dry cleaner was closed for Meat Day,” Dolcetto explained, “so I took it to the one on the south side of town. They said it was an accident and offered to buy a new one, but Greed’s had this probably longer than we’ve been alive. I don’t know where you’d even find another jacket as tacky as this one.”

The tacky jacket in question laid incriminatingly between them. Most of it looked great; the black leather was clean, the fur collar fluffy and white, silver buttons attached and gleaming. One sleeve was stretched out neatly, a bit of thread stitching together the small hole Greed had put in the wrist years ago. A good patch job by a reputable dry cleaner.

But the left sleeve, the whole length of it, looked like it had been used as a rottweiler’s tug toy. It was stretched and shredded, the fur cuff of it chewed and mangled almost beyond recognition, the leather torn and scratched and a complete loss.

Oh yes, Greed was going to kill them.

“Anyone want to say a few words?” Ulchi asked. Martel smacked him in the stomach, the highest point she could comfortably reach on the man that claimed to be mixed with a crocodile, but Martel suspected it was probably a giraffe.

“What are we going to do?” Bido fretted, clearly recovered from his previous assault and ready to panic again.

“Where’s Greed now?” Dolcetto asked.

“Sleeping,” Rao said.

Martel quirked an eyebrow. “It’s almost two in the afternoon.”

Rao shrugged. “Guess he had a late night.”

Martel resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Probably a late night up to no good. She loved their leader with a loyalty that could rival Dolcetto’s, but Greed’s interests always seemed to be both eccentric and excessive. The man did nothing if not live up to his name.

Dolcetto looked at Martel, his gaze going all glossy and hopeful—the quintessential ‘puppy dog eyes.’ “Can you fix it?”

Martel gave him the quintessential ‘murderous glare.’ “Are you joking?”

Rao crossed his arms. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit sexist?”

Dolcetto shrugged, gesturing to Ulchi and Bido. “It’s not going to be one of those two idiots.”

“Hey!” both objected.

Roa looked at the two idiots in question. “Hm. Point.”

“I’ll have you know I fixed this myself!” Bido said, holding out the sides of his tattered tunic. Martel wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be looking at until she noticed the jagged line around the bottom.

“You’re telling me you cut off the bottom with a box cutter so it would fit your stubby frame, and you think that means you’re fit to fix clothing?”

The chimera glared up at her. “It’s more than you have on your resumé!”

Martel was starting to get a headache.

“So, no one here knows how to fix this?” Dolcetto asked with a resigned sigh.

“I can try,” Roa said, stepping forward. At everyone’s incredulous look, he frowned. “What? My mom taught me some stuff.”

“No judgement,” Dolcetto said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “How long do you need?”

“An hour, to be on the safe side,” he said, bending down to scoop the jacket up in one large hand. “It’s not gonna look the same though.”

“I’ll take functional,” Dolcetto assured him. “Greed might not kill me if it’s functional.”

Roa nodded. “I’ll take it to your room; you’ve got the best light for this kind of thing. Dolcetto, you come with me. He knows you were supposed to pick up the dry cleaning today and he’ll be asking for it if he sees you.”

“Good idea,” Dolcetto agreed. “And you three just . . . keep him busy. He might not even wake up until it’s ready.”

A muffled voice filtered in from the closed wooden door behind them.

“Hey, Martel? Roa? Where is everybody?”

The group let out a collective groan.

“So much for that,” Martel groused.

“I can’t go in there!” Bido cried, pulling his tail to his chest like a teddy bear. “I’m too weak! I’ll tell him everything!”

Martel resisted the urge to smack him on the back of the head. “Fine, stay here.”

“You can’t leave me here alone!” he howled, dropping his tail to snatch her by the shirt. “It’s dark, and what if he comes out here looking for me?!”

“You are completely useless,” Dolcetto sighed. “Ulchi, stay out here with the snitch. Martel, I guess that means you’re running interference alone.”

And she was so excited about it.

“Grand.”

XxXxX

“Hey, Martel,” Greed said when Martel finally emerged from the cellar. She carried a bottle of something probably expensive and completely incompatible with her tastes if she’d bothered to look, but she needed a reason to be in the cellar, and getting a drink was probably a better excuse than looking for root vegetables.

The homunculus looked around the empty bar, his neck strangely long without the cover of his fur-lined jacket. “Where is everybody?”

Martel was accomplished in many things, from tactics to assassinations, but she was a terrible liar.

Oh well. May as well try to save Dolcetto’s neck, and by extension her own. Being a team player and all that.

“They’re all out with Dolcetto getting the dry cleaning.”

Greed frowned, his violet eyes narrowing. “All of them?”

“Guess there was a lot of laundry,” Martel shrugged and hoped it came across nonchalant.

“Ulchi was supposed to be watching to door,” he groused. “If those kids try to sneak back in here, we’re going to have the military all over us for serving minors.”

Martel was pretty sure the verbal exchange said kids had with Roa had discouraged any future attempts at sneaking into The Devil’s Nest, and that if that didn’t work, the way Dolcetto had chased after them like a blood hound after a fox surely did. She’d never seen kids move so fast.

“No kids have tried to get in this morning. Hey, would you mind helping me with something?” She fought off a wince at how unnatural the request sounded.

Greed cocked his head to the side. “You want my help?”

“Yes,” she said quickly. Too quickly.

Keep it together.

“With what?”

She was horrified to realize she hadn’t thought that far ahead. Dolcetto just said to get him away from the cellar door, then keep him occupied.

Occupied with what?

Maybe she should have asked.

“My closet.”

“Your . . .closet?”

“Yes. Very disorderly. I need some help with organization . . . stuff.”

Greed quirked one dark eyebrow. “Martel, I’ve known you for five years. You’ve never so much as misplaced a sock, much less needed help organizing your closet.”

Where did the idiot that frequently asked Roa to knock his own head of his shoulders for kicks get the gall to be observant?

“Fine!” Martel huffed. “I need help rearranging my room.”

Greed’s look of concern turned sleezy. Martel reflexively gripped the bottle tighter. “Babe, if you wanted to spend some quality time with me, you should have just asked—”

Thunk.

“Owe!”

Maybe bringing a bottle up from the cellar wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

XxXxX

If Roa didn’t hurry, Martel wasn’t sure they would have a fearless leader to surprise anymore.

“To the left,” she instructed.

“We already moved it to the left.”

“More to the left.”

“It’s right back where we started!”

“That was before we moved the dresser.”

“We moved the dresser back where we started!”

“If you didn’t want to help me, you should have just said so!” she spat, wrenching the bedframe out of his grip and dragging it to the left. Exactly where it had been thirty minutes ago before she and Greed had rearranged her room.

She was a woman of precision and order, and her room had been exactly the way she wanted it since she’d moved in.

Maybe Dolcetto should have given her a little more guidance than “keep him occupied.”

“I’m helping, aren’t I?” Greed groused, crossing his bare arms.

“Debatable.”

“Why are we moving the furniture in a circle, and why aren’t the guys back yet?” Greed’s eyes narrowed again, something lighting behind the suspicion.

His eyes widened.

“They’re here, aren’t they?”

Martel’s hands went cold. “I told you they all—”

“Went out for the laundry, yeah, yeah,” Greed waved her off, heading for the door. “Lying to your boss. I should fire you,” he grumbled, stalking out into the hallway.

“Wait!” Martel called, slipping past him to block his way as only a snake could, raising her arms to bar his advance. “They’re trying to surprise you!”

He regarded her blandly. “The only thing surprising to me right now is how you have a bed, a dresser, and a nightstand in your room, and you managed to make me waste half an hour moving it absolutely nowhere.” He pushed past her, stopping in front of Bido’s door and throwing it open.

Inside was dark, the curtains drawn tightly shut, and a pungent, musty sort of smell assaulted her tongue.

Greed shut the door faster than he’d opened it. “We have got to make that little gremlin clean his room.”

Martel was a little too smell-shocked to comment.

Taking advantage of her distraction, he threw open the next door.

Roa and Dolcetto, both sitting cross-legged on the dusty floorboards, stared back at them like deer in the headlights.

Very guilty deer in the headlights, if Martel was any judge.

“Ah-ha!” Greed declared, stalking forward. Dolcetto shuffled a pile of leather and fluff behind his back like a culpable toddler, and Roa slowly scraped a few pieces of leather under his pant leg. “You two nitwits made my best soldier lie to me, and I’d like to know why.”

Dolcetto shot her a look of utter betrayal. Martel stuck her forked tongue out at him and flicked it once. Served him right, ruining her afternoon with his idiocy.

“Look Boss,” he began, getting to his feet, hands clutching the evidence of his crime behind his back. “I have some bad news, and some good news.”

Greed crossed his arms, sighing both loudly and dramatically. “I can’t wait.”

As for Martel, she took a small step backwards.

“The bad news is . . . your leather jacket was maimed in a dry-cleaning accident.”

Greed stared at Dolcetto.

Dolcetto stared at Greed.

Martel was pretty sure she heard every muscle in Greed’s body snap tight.

“What . . . did you say?” The last word had a fury of a thousand souls in it, chilling Martel to the bone.

Martel took another step back, just to be safe.

“My jacket?! I always get everything I want Dolcetto, but that jacket was everything I loved!” Greed snarled, stalking forward, forcing Dolcetto back. Martel hadn’t seen Greed this angry since Bido accidentally left a tuna fish sandwich in his new car for three days in August. “I’ve had that jacket longer than you’ve been alive, dog boy!”

Dolcetto had gone an interesting shade of pasty white. “The good news is,” he quickly added, voice crackling like an octogenarian’s knees, “is that we made some improvements!” Without further delay, the chimera whipped out the remains of the jacket, crouching behind it like a shield.

It was Greed’s jacket alright, but . . . less.

In fact, it was missing both sleeves.

The jacket had become a vest, and in a bizarre twist of fate Martel could have never predicted, it somehow looked even worse for it.

Dolcetto was in for it now.

But instead of bridging the gap and wrapping his ultimately-shielded fingers around Dolcetto’s throat, Greed reached forward and gently took the vest in his hands.

He turned it over, examining the empty sleeves, the hem, the fur.

“This looks . . . great.”

. . . great?

“It does?” Martel and Dolcetto asked in unison.

“It does,” Greed said, slipping it on over his black shirt. The thing looked absolutely ridiculous on him, and with a sinking feeling, Martel was beginning to realize that was the reason he liked it so much. “I didn’t think this jacket could get any better and it did!” he grinned, admiring his own biceps in his now sleeveless jacket. “Man, this looks a lot better! I thought I was going to have to kill you Dolcetto.”

“Heh. . . heh . . .” Dolcetto forced an unconvincing laugh. “Real funny, Boss.”

“Oh, I wasn’t kidding, I like this jacket more than I like you,” Greed clarified, running his hands over the soft fur collar. “But you guys really outdid yourselves this time.”

“Nice to be irreplaceable,” Dolcetto growled, shuffling back behind Roa, seemingly in case Greed suddenly discovered a sense of taste and hated the vest.

Thump, thump.

Everyone froze, listening.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

“What on earth . . .” Greed began but didn’t get to finish before Bido burst into the room.

Martel narrowly avoided a door to the nose.

“Dolcetto did it!” Bido screamed, eyes wild and red-rimmed, tail swinging violently behind him. “It was Dolcetto, not me, and I can prove it!”

Ulchi stomped into the room on the other chimera’s heels, panting hard.

“Sorry guys, I tried to stop him. Little weasel is slippery.”

“Gecko,” Bido corrected hotly, turning back to their boss. “Greed, I had nothing to do with it! They were holding me in the sewers against my will or I would have told you sooner!”

Dolcetto made a very canine-sounding growl. “Bido.”

Bido flinched, hunching his neck into the cowl of his tunic like a cowering turtle as he turned to face the other chimera. Bido was an idiot, but he could take a hint.

“Yeah, yeah, we already know all that,” Greed said dismissively, waving a hand like he would shoo a fly.

Bido blinked. “You do?”

“Yup.”

His eyes darted from Dolcetto back to Greed. “And Dolcetto is . . . still alive?”

“Yup,” Dolcetto responded, the vaguest promise of a threat in his voice.

Bido swallowed loudly. “Oh.”

“Well,” Greed began with a wide, toothy yawn. “This was fun guys, but I’m gonna go take a nap.”

Dolcetto frowned. “You just got up.”

“Yeah, well, it’s rough managing a business.”

“Roa manages the business,” Martel muttered.

“It’s rough pretending that I manage the business,” Greed snarked back, pushing past Martel and out into the hall.

Everyone stared at each other for a few seconds, basking in the relief of an operation well-executed.

Then Martel had a terrible thought.

“Dolcetto . . . you said Greed’s jacket was ruined in a dry-cleaning accident.”

Dolcetto went very still very quickly.

“Yes . . .”

The terrible thought bloomed into a burning flame.

“Where are my clothes, Dolcetto?”

Dolcetto took a small step back. “Um, that’s a very good question Martel—”

“Where are my clothes?” Ulchi asked, a note of panic in his voice. “I only own three shirts, and you dropped off two of them!”

“My pants?!” Bido demanded. “That was the only pair that fit!”

“Look guys, I don’t—”

Roa finally got off the ground, towering over Dolcetto at his full height. “My suit?”

Martel had never seen a man run so fast.

“Get back here!” Ulchi screeched, flying out the door after him. “You owe me shirts!”

Roa lumbered after them, Bido on his heels, leaving Martel to stare at the scraps of Greed’s jacket and Dolcetto’s open closet door.

An open closet filled with clothes.

And she smiled.

You know what they say: When life gives you lemons, steal a roommate’s clothes and make lemonade.

To be fair, Martel got a couple of pairs of very nice cargo pants out of the deal.

And if Dolcetto’s kimono was suddenly missing its sleeves, he never asked about it.

XxXxX

Fin

XxXxX

A.N: I had a lot of fun with this one (but let's be honest, I usually do xD). I've never written for the Devil's Nest crew, so this was a nice little exercise away from my typical Ed or Roy POV lol. Comments/reblogs are treasured, and I will post to AO3/FFN at some point as well. Hope you enjoyed!

God Bless,

-RainFlame

#fma fan fic #fic by RainFlame #a stitch in time saves lives #fma fic #fma oneshot #the devil's nest crew #greed #martel #dolcetto #roa #ulchi #bido #secret santa 2021

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sooniesspot · 3 years

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Coming Down | myg

Okay, so here's the second installment of my BADLANDS Series. This is loosely based around Coming Down by Halsey. I realise I haven't really done them in a specific order, just the one I am pulled to next to write.

Warnings: Dom!Yoongi, Sub!Reader, mentions of slight work stress and societal pressures of being a woman, you know. All that good stuff.

Reader is a F E M I N I S T and proudly so. Loose mention of not wanting kids (which is fine btw) this is just a whole load of smut, not much fluff as it's FWB but.

Okay so, oral, f & m receiving, face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, rough sex, light spanking, choking (for like a milisecond) use of ties, slight sensory deprivation, slight body worship, overstimulation. Slight name-calling?? Yoongs says kitten ironically. Use of safe word/safe signal. Yoongles has a Sir Kink. (I can only apologise) Reader has a hand kink (obvs) just wants to get off and relieve stress, Yoongi is happy to be their relief.

word count: 9.8k 👀🐸☕ don't @ me

'I found God, I found him in a lover'

It was a normal Thursday evening, you'd finished work at 6pm on the dot and took the bus home. Fishing for your keys as you approached the front door of your apartment. Key in the lock, turn. Open. Silence. Walking into your hallway, slippers not quite on the rack by the front door as you rushed out of them into your heels this morning. Just where you left them. Sliding off your heels with a sigh as you trudged into your slippers, immediately comforted by the soft memory foam that supported your tiresome toes. Returning your heels to the rack. Shrugging off your bag and long coat, reaching nearly 2 feet above you on your tiptoes to hang your bag and coat on the coat rack. Muttering to yourself like you did every day. 'Coat and bag, then heels. Won't have to stretch so much.' Venturing into the living room. Magazine on the coffee table infront of the sofa where you had left it last night.

Empty. Not that you expected anyone to be home. No one making you dinner you didn't want, or taking up the whole sofa, or hogging the remote. You lived alone, and you liked it. Sure, for a pretty young girl in her mid twenties you often had looks and questions.

'When are you going to find the one?'

'When will you settle down and have a family?'

And truth be told, you didn't want to settle down. You had told your mother from a young age that you didn't want children, whether that would change over time or not you weren't sure. It hadn't changed. You still wanted your independence and that was okay. Women were not put on this earth just to bear children and you were the firmest believer in that. You liked your life just the way it was. A job you loved that you worked hard for, an apartment you were proud of and nearly every night you got to sleep in your own bed, alone, no one to whine at when they snored or your body being used as a warmer for their cold feet. The few nights you were away from your bed came from your once in a while rendezvous with an acquaintance of yours. Although you knew eachother more than mere acquaintances should.

You met at a bar some time ago. Lights flashed, sure to give you a migraine and music so loud your eardrums could burst at any given moment. You were dragged out to this stingy bar by your bestfriend in her attempt to finally get noticed by that one guy. Even in her twenties she was still as smitten as when you were both back at school. You wore a simple black dress with a low cut front, skirt just above the knee and plain black heels. Hair not much different to your everyday, maybe a few waves here and there and some more mascara than your normal work volume. Trying your best to blend in but still having the ornate ability to have eyes on you in any setting.

You spent a lot of time on the dance floor until your friend had found her prey and you circled around the bar. Much rather wanting to stay at home with a tub of ice cream and your cat watching some terrible reality show about Cabin Crew on a cruise ship. Shouting at the TV to throw the nasty woman overboard; waving your spoon at the screen as your cat looked on in understanding almost. But here you were, slumped against a sticky varnished oak bar, propped up on an old velvet stool, twisting your straw in your glass, nonchalantly spinning the steadily melting ice as you listened to your friend talking to her guy. Suddenly feeling a hot hand against your lower back and someone lean over the bar between you and your otherwise occupied friend. Looking up at a pale man to your left.

" Whiskey on the rocks. " came his order to the bar tender; sharp, leaving no room for anything blasé.

Catching his eye, he looked you over once with a subtle bite of his lip and the flick of his tongue at the seam of his mouth; eyebrow raised with a lingering smirk before he vanished into the sea of people again with his drink.

Dumbfounded, you sat there, staring at the now empty spot where he had been mere seconds ago, the now cool expanse of your lower back where his large hand once was, fizzing. Swinging round on your stool, propping your elbow on the bar behind you, your eyes scanned the room. It wasn't the biggest bar. It wouldn't take long to find him.

Soon you caught eyes with him across the dance floor, stood with his taller, tanned friends as he held the whiskey glass firm in his hand; talking amongst themselves. Dark Brown, almost black hair feathered across his forehead, just above his twinkling chocolate eyes. Thin upper lip pressing to his plumper bottom lip before perfect white teeth graced your vision in an endearing gummy smile. Eyes still not catching you between the bodies of people dancing. Several silver hoop earrings in each ear. He wore a long black sweatshirt, black ripped jeans and boots. A couple of silver rings adorned his strong fingers.

You took a sip of your drink, gaze intermittently fluttering in his direction as you scanned the room, your friend had left to go and dance. Eyes found her and you nodded, knowing she was fine. As your stare focused back on the man before you he finally looked up, catching your eye with his, dark and mysterious. His lips pulling into a smirk again as he gazed at you. Heat bubbling in your chest from his wandering eyes on your body through the gap in people on the dance floor. He eventually made his way over to you and whispered a few words into your ear. Cool and calm.

" Come back to my hotel. "

And so you did. One slightly drunk, intense one night stand later and here you were, 6 months down the line sleeping with eachother whenever he was in town. A classic Friends With Benefits situation, although you weren't really friends.

You walked into your kitchen, greeting your ginger tabby cat with a kiss as she meowed at you in greeting. Grabbing yourself a glass for water and pouring kibble into her bowl on the floor, your routine monotonous but you didn't mind. Your cat tucking into her dinner as you filled up your glass, taking a sip. Looking at delivery menus on your fridge under old magnets from previous travels, deciding on Chinese; plucking the menu from the fridge, you had a training day for other colleagues at work tomorrow which meant a day off for you. No needing to cook dinner and get an early night tonight. Placing your glass and the menu on the coffee table in the living room, you switched on the tv, chucking any random show on then bumbling along to your room, opening the door. Greeted by quiet and serenity. No dirty pants on the floor or unmade bed. You smiled with contentment, unzipping your dress to pool at your feet before tossing it into your wash basket. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your most dependable black bra and panty set glaring back at you as you fixed your hair into a ponytail and wiped off your makeup. Throwing on a sweatshirt and some leggings. A short while later you plopped yourself down on the sofa and switched on the tv, greeting your cat with a scratch under her chin as she sauntered into the room, hopping up on the sofa with you.

Zoning out to the world around you as a terrible drama played on in the background as you glanced over the menu, not really paying attention to anything in particular. You had been a little stressed over the past couple of weeks, mounting pressures of a new senior in your department threatening to change everything you had sculpted into a balanced working environment over the last 3 years. Societal pressures and backhanded compliments from your mother's 'garden party' friends concerning whether or not you were defective in choosing a man. Or having one choose you. But in reality, the truth is, you had a stable relationship previously, unfortunately he was a dick and you're not stupid. So the single life had been your rather quiet reality for the last 18 months. No one to answer to or to worry about. Just you and your cat.

Your mothers friends never seemed to understand that, always too engrossed in whether or not you had a man on top of you every night to see that their husbands had found other, much younger women to be on top of. All of this filtering through the crack in your hardened shell, filling your mind with alternate realities until you got a text coming through. Cutting through all the fuzz that piqued in your brain. Picking up your phone, you saw who it was. Him.

'I'm in town, come over?'

Your reply was short and sweet.

'Sure, be over in 20.'

Snapping out of your previous thoughts and placing the menu back on the coffee table you sat and pondered for a minute. This was fine. This was what you needed. To let off some steam, in a judgement free setting. No cold glances your way, or harsh words uttered, unless it was you being tied to the headboard again like you had been convinced to try last time with his unadulterated gaze looking down at you writhing underneath him. The thought alone had your hair standing on end and a shiver running through you as you stood from the sofa, heading to your room.

Sifting through your wardrobe to pull on some old trainers, checking yourself in the mirror not really knowing why. In your hallway you made sure the lights in the apartment were off and your cat was happy, tucked up in the corner of the sofa snoozing away. Making sure you had your keys and phone in your bag, you left, key in the lock, turn. Locked. Walking down the hallway and down to the ground floor, heading out of the building to head right. The hotel he always stayed at was only a block or so away so the walk was relatively short. The sun was setting now as it hid behind the skyscrapers that canopied the city. Passers by making their way home or even to work. Still lots of cars on the road and bicycles that weaved in and out of traffic. The breeze was light and cherry blossoms danced in the air, separating from a tree as you passed a nearby park. The air was cool, as it would be in early May. Not too hot. Reminded of your journey, that first night.

'When his hair falls in his face and his hands so cold they shake'

You had left swiftly after his original proposition, making up some story about your cat or an early work meeting or something. Anything to get you out of there and with him. His hand returned to the small of your back as you left the bar, being ushered into an awaiting taxi outside. Shuffling all the way over to the other side, he slid in next to you blurting out the address to the hotel at the driver. Hair falling in his face. Eyes wild as they sparkled from the reflection of the dim streetlights. Smirking at you as the same powerful hand you had grown accustomed to on your back, made a home on your knee, slightly tucked under the skirt of your dress. It was now cold to the touch. Strong and intimidating as the taxi started to drive away. Not being able to take his eyes off you he leant forward and whispered in your ear.

" You look so delicious. " His voice low that reverberated through you, straight to your core as he squeezed your knee. Uttering the last syllable with a kitten lock to the shell of your ear.

To this you bit your lip and shifted uncomfortably in your seat. His hand, in turn sliding further up under your dress to the wider expanse of your thigh. The material of your dress pressing his hand taught against your skin.

He swooped down to your ear again, pressing an open mouthed kiss under your ear before he whispered " can't wait to taste you. "

You keened away from his grasp to no avail. He knew what he was doing to you, breath shallow and flighty in your chest as his teeth tugged at your earlobe.

"Please " You breathed, the first word you uttered to him.

Not really sure what you were pleading him for but the fire in your chest and the dampness of your panties flourished an urgency within you that was incorrigible. He smirked again at this, eyes dancing like Fireflies in the night. The hand that was to his side while the other hid between your thighs came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him.

"Soon. " He chuckled before biting your lip.

Drawn back to reality, passing people and cars. Your trainers pulling you towards your destination as your head had an argument with your feet. Was this a good idea? You didn't want to get yourself into a situation where either of you caught feelings. You were a pro at being a cold hearted bitch now but the odd sincere glance your way, especially from him seemed to melt your resolve, even just a little. Recounting the previous times you had taken this walk and what it would lead to.

After your first night with him, it was like a drug. You always wanted more. To say he was good in the bedroom was a complete cop out. He was...He was something. Made you feel things you'd never felt before and noises you'd never in your wildest dreams imagine yourself making. At decibels only a dog could hear. So once the addiction started, you started seeing one another everytime he was in town. Sometimes a couple of times in a week. That went on for a solid 4 months and as work pressures mounted, you fell distant. Always busy catching up with work or having some alone time with your thoughts and your cat. He also got busy, having to travel more for work. You didn't really know much about except it was important and you felt based on the guitar he always packed with him, propped up against the wall in the corner of the room, it was something to do with music.

'I found a devil, I found him in a lover'

The last time you had seen eachother had been a little over 2 weeks ago. That night you'd stayed, which didn't come easily. You were adamant you would leave as soon as you'd cleaned up, even telling him so as he helped you wash in the bathroom, almost requesting a second round when he looked at you through the mirror with those sparkling brown eyes like the devil, but you had been so wound up and pushed to your limits that you felt sleep take you as soon as your body hit the mattress again. Memories of restraints, dark water colours that created the murky palette of his hotel room and the low thumping of your heart, even as you entered the apartment, seeing him there, a tie in hand and a coy smirk. That night he had called you. He never called.

" You busy? " He sounded gruff like he'd just finished working out - which you knew not to be the case.

"When am I ever busy? " You rebuttled with a laugh.

He joined you, then you could hear him grin down the phone. A different sort of grin. A devious one.

"I wanted to try something. "

There was quiet, you wished him to continue silently.

"Something I can't stop thinking about doing to you. " He whispered lowly.

Your ears on fire and furiously red in the face you hung up. Chucking a quick 'omw' text to him in return. That night had been the best sex you'd ever had. That's why you'd stayed. For fear of walking into oncoming traffic at 2am because of your disorientated state.

Your heart skipped a beat at the anticipation of what was to come once you knocked on the door and it sent a thrill through you. Rounding the corner you were met with a bleak grey concrete block of apartments that made up the hotel with a black sign. Crossing the street after looking both ways you jogged up the steps as you saw the door beginning to close after a couple just exited. Sliding in you headed straight for the elevator.

He always had the same hotel room which avoided any confusion. You ran to the elevator that had just opened and pressed the 7th floor. Alone again your mind wandered to your first night here, in this lift.

You'd both stumbled out of the taxi and shuffled over to the lift, he pressed the elevator button furiously as he got impatient; leaning against eachother. As soon as the lift doors were closed he pressed you against the wall, face millimetres from yours as his nose skimmed over yours. Both of your breathing, laboured and slow. His large hands roamed your body; your waist, up and down your thighs. Gripping at the flesh as if he owned it. You wanted him to. God you wanted him to own all of you in that moment. Gaze intense and unwavering as the mysterious glint in his eye grew. His hands slid around the curve of your ass which made you stutter, giving it a harsh squeeze that made you lose your breath.

"I'm gonna ruin you." He whispered devilishly in your ear as he bit the shell.

Pulled out of your reverie as the elevator doors dinged open, signalling you had reached your floor, face burning as you stepped out of the lift, cold fingers pressed to your cheeks to try and cool them. Preparing yourself for what man would greet you at the door. You never knew which one you would get. Sometimes he was ravenous and you never made it to the bed, lipstick smeared and tights ripped as he never had time to waste when he felt such a desperate need for you. Or you would get the cool calm and collected man that caught your eye that night all those months ago. That was, until he got you here. Alone with him.

Walking down the corridor to his room now, counting the doors as they seemed to go on for miles, dark in wood with numbers etched in gold with golden handles. Your breath starting to slip away from you as you imagined as soon as you opened that door you wouldn't be able to breathe steadily again for a while. Room 93. (Shoutout to Halsey's first EP) There it was. You slowed to a stop, almost nervous to knock. 'Just knock' You muttered to yourself. Rolling your eyes as you fidgeted on the spot, sighing as you raised your hand to knock on the door. Knock. Wait. Silence.

You were waiting for a little while which was unlike any other time. Checking your watch and the door number. You waited a little longer and you were just about to walk away when the door opened slowly. You turned; met with the same dancing brown eyes you caught in yours all those months ago, although slightly sunken, maybe he hadn't been sleeping well? His lean frame propped up against the door. Arms folded over his broader chest. Hair fluffed over his forehead, slightly damp. Pale skin flawless and glowing against the dark background of his hotel room and the darkness of his simple black tee and sweatpants. Silver hoops still adorned his ears and rings still glistened on his beautiful hands. Eyes unwavering as they honed in on you. Smirk playing on his thin lips.

"You're early." He mumbled all knowingly, looking at the rings that adorned his knuckles, as if he were about to connect them with a wall.

You stuttered, heart in your mouth as you gawked at the man. Feeling like a naughty school girl that was about to get a ruler spanked across her a-. You stopped the thought for fear of collapsing in the hallway. His eyes still on you, looking you up and down. You mentally slapped yourself for your attire. Sweatshirt and leggings. Not sexy in the slightest. Anyway. Why did you care? Not like you wanted to impress him, right? After another beat his strong arm pulled you in the room by the collar of your sweatshirt, closing the door swiftly behind you and pinning you up against it.

"Just means I have more time." He whispered against your lips.

Sweeping strands of hair out of your face delicately, tucking his fingers behind your ears. He smiled at you, his gummy smile. You never thought that smile would be directed at you. Let alone in this setting.

'With his lips like tangerines, and his colour-coded speak'

His lips moulded to yours with a sudden urgency. Teeth and tongue caressing your lips with power and want. Heavy breaths exchanged as you dropped your bag; hands trying to find purchase somewhere sturdy and stable. Deciding upon the strength of his arms. Eyes closing as you were swept away in the moment of teeth and tongue and pent up tension and wanton need for eachother. His fingers pulling out your hairband so your hair pooled around your face. His fingers lacing through the soft locks as he grinned against your lips. Always having an ornate infatuation with how silky your hair was. How good it felt wrapped around his fist as he fucked you into the mattress. How it spread out behind you like waves across the crisp white bedsheets, framing your face perfectly as you slept.

He missed this. Maybe he missed you. Jolted back from his sweet thoughts, hearing you start to mumble against his lips as he continued to pin you up against the door, your head firmly in his hands.

"Yoongi." You murmured again, slurring the word slightly; drunk off the potent lust he cradled you with.

He never let up from your lips, intent on breathing you in. Hands untangling themselves from your hair as his cool calm hands landed on your shoulders, moving you away from the door to pin you to a wall, nearer to the bed. An eventual destination set in his mind. He couldn't get enough of you. Your hands travelled to cup his cheeks. His lips dry against yours gaining moisture from the saliva rolling around in your mouths as your tongues fought. Small whimpers beginning to swim their way into the air. Music to his ears. Of all the music he'd ever had a hand in creating, he wished he could emulate your tiny whimpers. Your cries for more of him. All of him. Wanting to devour him whole.

"Fuck" He exclaimed, finally pulling away from you, heavy breathing as his forehead was against yours.

Not even giving you time to breath he reached for the hem of your sweatshirt, pulling it over your head to reveal your gorgeous body to his hungry eyes. Knowing now that hiding from his gaze would be futile. An attempt at covering up would leave your ass raw and marks all over every single inch of your body. God's above. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, to him you practically were. He never sought out for any other attention or company from other women. The taste of you as often as he could have you was more than enough to satiate his heart.

He made quick work of your bra before throwing his own shirt off onto the growing pile on the floor. His hands, rough against your soft, plush breasts as his thumbs circled around your pebbling nipples. His teeth latching onto your bottom lip, humming as he looked into your steadily closing eyes. Teeth venturing south along your jaw to your neck and collarbone as he began to grab at the skin of your waist after he finished moulding your breasts; as if trying to memorise the feeling of them in his hands. The weighted comfort he had grown to adore about your chest. Teeth sinking in, enticing low gasps and the tiniest of squeaks as he would bite too hard on already sensitive flesh, intent on getting every inch of your skin covered in small indentations from his teeth. Tongue lascivious against the contours of your neck and collarbones, sickly sweet taste of your skin that drove him wild.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

All you could do was pant and mule against him, your hands in his steadily drying locks. Suddenly pulling away as he untied the drawstring of his pants.

"Knees, now." He whispered authoritively and you happily obeyed.

Flicking your hair off your shoulder you sank down onto your knees. Eyes ignited with a fire he practically stoked out of you. You admired his body on the journey down. Body lithe and pale, defined arms and chest with a flat stomach, no six pack or defined v lines that led to the promising tent that you saw in your line of sight. Just a small happy trail of hair from below his belly button sneaking into the hem of his sweatpants. Swiftly taking them down and off you were greeted with black boxers, looking tight around his cock cased within. You licked your lips in anticipation as his fingers forked through the hair on your scalp. Looking up to his face as he gazed down at you with a stern look in his own eyes; burning into your already flushed skin.

"Someone looks like they've missed this." He smirked as your hand rose to palm him through his boxers.

He released a low hum at the feeling of your hand cupping his balls. You knew that he was very sensitive there, from past experiences.

"Does the slut want my cock?" He asked, a feather of a chuckle rumbled in his chest at your immediate nod as you ran your tongue over the seem of your lips.

Your fingers delved underneath the fabric as you began to pull them down. Sudden slap to your hands had you shying away from him.

"Hungry sluts have to wait don't they, kitten?" His eyes zeroing in on your reaction to the pet name.

You gritted your teeth in vague annoyance at the name, after the first night, you told him you had to be home for your cat. Finding it oddly adorable you were a cat lady he called you kitten ironically, now it's stuck. Your eyes looking away from him, turning your head slightly towards the large window that showed the rest of the city. Twinkling lights now shining in the moonlight. His hand gripped your chin, pulling your attention back to him, forcing you to look up into his devious eyes.

"I don't think you answered me, slut." He snarled; releasing your chin from his grasp.

Your heart jumped in your chest. "Y-yes, sir."

He smirked again, feeling triumphant he patted your head, thumb smoothing over your hair line with ghost like touches before running it along the seem of your mouth, popping his thumb in, flat against your tongue. Closing your lips around him, beginning to suck, big eyes gazing up at him.

"Good girl." He whispered before removing his thumb from your mouth and yanking his boxers down and stepping out of them.

His fingers danced through his damp hair as his cock sprung up against his stomach, a muted groan as the cool air touched his reddened and straining cock. Your eyes widened, never getting used to the sight of his cock, inches away from your salivating mouth, making your panties pool with a carnal need for him to be inside you. Your hands began to rub up and down your jeans clad thighs, waiting with baited breath for him to give you the command. This man and the things you'd do for him would have others question if you were a feminist or not. How a strong single woman with a steady career and bustling social life could want to be so utterly defiled by a man and be at his every whim really flipped your ideology on its head. But a drug was a drug, and you were high on him like cocaine.

"Alright, stop giving me those bedroom eyes." He gushed, dominating voice faltering as he gazed down at you, waiting and ready for him to let you begin.

You fluttered your eyelashes at him, big and bold. Biting your lip as your hands rubbed along your thighs again.

"Fuck, just get over here." He laughed, holding the base of his cock in his hand as your hands slunk up his sturdy pale thighs.

Fingertips sending sparks through his body. Your lips reaching his tip, you looked up at him again as you kitten licked his bulbous tip, testing it. Like testing a car. He hissed to which you smirked. You took your tongue to lick the underside of his cock lightly, teasing his frenulum before swirling your tongue round his tip several times. He puffed out a harsh breath but never said a word, fingers beginning to weave into your hair with a softness you were unfamiliar with. Surrounding the tip with your lips as you slowly sunk the head into your waiting mouth. Giving kitten links to the underside again as you sucked on his tip for a moment. Yoongis breath was heavy, you could tell by his chest moving, half lidded eyes looking down at you as you took more of him in slowly. Tongue still licking everywhere you could. Your other hand still positioned on his thigh as you rubbed small circles in it with your thumb.

Starting to take him deeper in your mouth and pulling him back out for breath had him seeing double. His vision was blurred as he could feel your heavenly lips wrap around his strained cock, precum and spit starting to pool at the corners of your mouth; threatening to spill as you bobbed your head back and forth on his dick. Setting up a rhythm you plunged him in deep so your nose touched his abdomen and he threw his head back with a grunt; gritting his teeth.

"Uh, fuck. Your mouth is so good" He whispered into the air.

'I've got a lover and I'm unforgiven, I'm such a fool to pay this price'

Your mouth worked on him as well as it could. You would take a lot of him in and proceed to gag which made him grunt. As your hand began to work at the base of his shaft. Giving him your all. Making up for lost time.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last." He hissed. His hands in spearing through your hair as his thumbs rubbed at your scalp.

"I should've kept my hands to myself... Always impatient." He chuckled menacingly to himself; shaking his head.

Your breath was heaving as you pulled back from him. Hands gripping his thighs tight as you looked up at the man towering above you.

"What do you say, will you let me fuck your mouth like a good pet?" He asked, hands still in your hair.

"Make me cum, then it's your turn? How about it, kitten?"

No hesitation in your eyes as you gazed up at him as if he had hand painted all of the stars in the sky. You nodded profusely and he grinned at you; swiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

"Good girl, remember your safe signal?" He asked, almost sweet in his tone.

You tapped the back of his thigh 3 times with your finger and he nodded. Feathering his fingers through your hair again, your hand still at the base of his dick lining him up to your waiting mouth. You gave him the go ahead as he thrusted shallowly into your mouth at first. Finally in your mouth his hands speared through your hair behind your ears to hold you still as he began to move his hips back and forth. You had done this before. Let him do this. But this time was so raw and so needy you honestly couldn't fathom how much you needed this. And it wasn't even your turn. He began to set up a rhythm working his length deeper with every thrust; starting to make you gag as you tried your best to relax. He breathed in sharply, his head thrown back as he pumped in and out. His shaft gliding smoothly across your tongue and beginning to slip down your throat as you sputtered around him. Hands firmly gripping the back of his thighs, the same way he was gripping your hair.

"Fuck, fuck. Your mouth. Kills me." He mumbled to himself; thinking you couldn't hear.

You looked up at him, a picture of bliss. Arms locked in place, keeping you still as he slid in and out of your mouth, picking up speed now. The veins in his neck; protruding under a velvet blanket of Frosted skin. Teeth gritted and brows furrowed. He looked down to see you already watching him. To this he groaned deep within his chest at the sight of you so willing and ready for him. Setting his nerves alight he could feel his orgasm approaching. Gripping your hair even tighter as he gave you a moment to breath before jackhammering into your mouth with a low whine.

"Fuck. Holy shit." He whispered before you felt his cock twitch deep in your throat and thick ropes of cum travel down it as he came; hips jerking at weird angles as you noticed sweat beading across his neck and collarbones; reaching up to his hairline.

After he had composed himself he pulled out of your mouth and you swallowed everything still left in your mouth before opening your mouth to show it was empty. He ran a solid hand through his own hair before he pulled you to your feet; planting a heavy kiss to your lips as he walked you back towards the bed. Practically pushing you back on it with a soft bounce. He suddenly rounded to the other side of the hotel room rummaging through a suitcase. Soon returning with several black ties in hand. Giving you a knowing smirk. You felt your stomach sink at the memory of your last adventure with this man. In this hotel room. With those ties. But judging by the look on his face and the fact his previously lifeless cock had begun to spring to life again; you knew it was different.

'I found a martyr, he told me that I'd never'

He began to move you up the bed to where he saw fit. Nodding when he had got you where he wanted. Straddling your waist he grabbed an arm tying the tie around your wrist to then loop it around the headboard. He soon did the same to the other one. Then finally you saw him gazing down at you from above before he slipped a soft silk tie over your eyes fastening it behind your head. Everything went black, but you could hear him; feel him. All around you. Feeling weight either side of your head you suddenly felt breath over your nipple; squirming at the sensation and your clothed pussy clenching around nothing. You felt him kitten lock his way along your breast before landing an unexpected bite against your neck, causing you to pull against the restraints with a sharp intake of breath.

"Remember your safe word, kitten?" He whispered in your ear.

You nodded. "Seesaw."

He sat back on his heels; still straddling you. Crossing his arms with a nod.

"Why is it Seesaw, again?" You ask, a grin sliding onto your face.

He chuckled at this before you felt weight lifted from the bed. You skin crawling with goosebumps as you waited with anticipation. Suddenly feeling deft fingers pulling your leggings and panties down in one swift movement. A beat of silence. Feeling like forever until you felt the same fingers, calloused but oh so soft against the skin of your collarbone.

"You don't remember?" He whispered into the darkness.

You shook your head no as your body began to squirm. Feeling his finger trail delicately down to your chest, followed by his other pointer finger on his left. Circling your nipples in precise motions. You sucked in a breath and your back arched as you felt him blow cool air onto the perking bud.

"Oh kitten, it was the bar where we first met" You could hear the smirk evident in his voice as his fingers trailed underneath the curve of your breasts.

"The night I took you home and ate you so good you nearly passed out." A dry chuckle left his lips at the gasp that left your own.

He began to drag his sturdy fingers slowly; tantalisingly, in soft motions towards your belly button where he would branch out with delicate touch; placing more fingers on your skin as they circled your hipbones. Finally sloping down to your thighs where his grip became firm and he pryed your legs apart to expose you to him. Heat flashing across your face as you whimpered at the action. Oh god. The things he made you feel. You felt electricity surge through your body, bouncing off your bones as you heard him hum.

"Mmmm. So wet, just from sucking my cock, kitten?"

You bit your lip with a whine; nodding profusely. Blush creeping across your cheeks. He seemed to like this as you heard a deep rumbled in his chest in approval. You could feel the bed dip slightly due to transferred weight. Right between your legs. Shit. If only you could see him. What was he doing? Was he pleased? Oh fuck, you didn't shave your le- your thoughts were far removed as you felt lips across the inside of your thigh; just above your knee.

"Shit, I can't wait to taste you." He whispered; sending cool air rushing up to your core.

Feeling his lips drag effortlessly along your thigh to where you wanted him most; needed him. He was tender; savouring the moment. He had missed this, giving you what you wanted. Watching you underneath him. Tasting you; devouring you. That's why he was so quick to cum the first time around. Too excited by the thought of having you again he had started to touch himself in the shower. Thinking of your soft, sweet body; Bending to his every whim. Your mouth stuffed full of his cock. Your enticing wet pussy that always made you blush at the sounds it would make, as he would fuck you. Hard and rough. He groaned at the thought before his face was level with your heat. Soft breaths that made your body wriggle; desperate to escape and want more; all at once. He hooked your knees over his elbows as he held your legs down. blowing against your exposed clit and watching your pussy clench around nothing; glistening with your essence he hungered for.

'With his educated eyes, and his head between my thighs'

"Mmmm. Sweet pussy baby girl." He kissed the apex of your thigh watching you writhe against the restraints. He hadn't even started yet. You were in for a long night.

You didn't seem to notice the name at first. It wasn't what he had called you any of the times before. But as the air thinned out around you; feeling the silence weighted around the room like a thick curtain and nothing was corrected, it almost felt affectionate; coming from his sinful lips that had just attached themselves to your-

"Fuck." Your breath caught as you threw your head back against the mattress.

Feeling lips suckling against your clit with vigor. He knew what you liked and knew how to get you where he wanted you. His tongue began lapping at your clit as his lips sucked where they could. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to pull against the restraints; your legs restless as the odd whimper left parted lips. His eyes although you couldn't see him, were focused on you. Watching every bite of your lip, every salacious moan or whimper; every gasp. You began rocking your hips in a rhythm against his tongue and he moaned at the pressure you posed against him. Trying to feel some friction as his throbbing cock had sprung to life from your first whimper; sandwiched between his abdomen and the mattress.

"God, this pussy is so good." He moaned; muffled by your legs trying so hard to clamp around his head as he continued his ministrations.

Soon enough you could feel the familiar rope spread throughout your body, begin to coil; tight as a spring before you felt a nip to your clit and you unravelled underneath him. Feeling weightless and weighted all at once. Stars beneath the blanket of the silk tie; delicate against your eyes. Head thrashing around as arms pulled with all their might against the restraints. Your back arched as you moaned loudly; legs starting to shake at the force of your orgasm. But that wasn't the end. He flicked his tongue against your swollen clit with more intent. Determined to push you through another orgasm before he even started using his fingers. God his fingers. Your lower body began to lift off the bed as his grip on your legs only got tighter.

"Fuck, fuck Yoongi. Oh my fucking g-"

You heard an animalistic growl as you felt another nip to your clit; yelping at the sudden spark of pain amongst your pleasure.

"Sir. Stick to the rules." He punctuated with a slap to your clit. Back arching for a moment as you felt a pulse throughout your body.

"Or I'll keep biting." He mumbled the last part.

You pouted. "Yes sir." You could feel your orgasm beginning to ebb away as he took longer to return to your clit.

You whined and you felt breath on your clit again as he chuckled. Although your predicament was purely casual. Wanting to get off essentially was your main goal. Neither of you ever rushed. Enjoying one another's company. Feeling his slick, swift tongue dancing along your clit again you moaned; trying so hard to keep quiet out of respect for neighbours as you tried resting your mouth against your arm to muffle your high pitched moans. His tongue retracted until you felt the tip of his tongue tease the edge of your entrance before dipping his tonulgue in for a moment. Your hips bolted you forward at the intrusion before settling back down on the bed. His tongue running up and down from your entrance to your clit in long strokes. Quickly settling his tongue back against your throbbing clit. You yelped as he applied more pressure.

"Fuck, I love this cunt."

Slurping noises ensued as he dove in deeper. You orgasm building again and again, holding on for dear life. Holding onto your sanity. His tongue swirling around the pulsing bud as you continued your previous rhythm rocking against his face. Your knuckles were turning white at the sheer grip you had on the ties; feeling yourself drift away.

"Fuck, please, yoo-"

He pressed his face even further into your heat as you cried out in pleasure. Tongue flicking mercilessly over your engorged clit. Reaching the summit again to fall all the way down into the abyss. He never let up from you as his tongue lapped at your juices spilling from your entrance. Nerves alight and pulsing throughout your body. A thin layer of sweat was evident against your face, collarbones; the whole of your body. Sweat beaded from his own forehead and he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as he watched you regain your breath. Stilted in the silence. Only your chest rising and falling as your lungs gasped for air.

He loosened his right arms hold around your leg and brought his fingers forward to your sensitive pussy. Humming to himself as he gathered the Juices on the tip of his fingers and spreading it all over your pussy as it glistened in the dim hotel light. Knowing how much you lost your collective shit over his hands he couldn't help but watch his hands tip toe up to your breast; squeezing the flesh roughly in his hand before slinking it over to massage your neck for a second. Only to grab it a moment later. Your breath caught quite literally as you could feel the bed move from where he was sitting up. He could feel the pressure against your soft skin and the way your breath constricted; only for a moment as he loosened his grip. His fingers still flush against the skin. His veined hand looked like it belonged around your neck. He thought to himself before sliding his thumb into your mouth again; which you accepted with enthusiasm.

'I found a saviour, I don't think he remembers'

"One more from you, kitten. Then I'll fuck you. Okay?" He hummed.

Your reply was noncommittal as you nodded vehemently; still sucking on his thumb. He looked down at you with a certain adoration. Laying there, naked for him. Tied up and blindfolded. If he'd have thought this would be the case after that first night, he would have laughed. But here you both were.

His fingers began to trace the outline of your entrance; whisper like touches that made you clench around nothing. He began experimentally pushing his long slender middle finger inside you a little; chuckling lowly as you let out a whine. Your pussy trying to suck him in further. Wanting to feel him. All of him.

"Sir. Please." You murmured, legs that were now free from his grasp allowing you to rotate your hips.

He wanted to tease. God. He wanted to tease you until the sun came up. But he was desperate and so were you. He removed his finger earning a cry from you. Until he slid in two fingers to your shock and set a brutal pace. Feeling those godly fingers of his curl into you. Moulding you perfectly to him. Tapping against that sweet spot inside. He used his other hand to press your hips to the bed; preventing movement as you felt a touch of sensitivity kicking in. But you put it to the back of your mind; focussing on the way his fingers were drilling into you at an inhuman pace now.

Your senses heightened due to his silk tie that blocked your view. Oh how you wished you could watch his fingers sliding in and out of you like you had done countless times before. Acquiring quite the affinity with the mans hands. Pale, veiny; strong in their ability to hold you but soft when he caressed your cheek, wiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth or the pad of his thumb sweeping away tears from overstimulation. God you loved them.

"Fuck. I'm so close." You cried out, to someone. Anyone who could hear you as he continued his ministrations.

"Yeah? The slut loves my fingers doesn't she?" Yoongi spat; his voice laced with venom.

"Loves my fingers fucking her, huh?"

All you could do was mewl as you could feel your body going into overdrive. Your head slamming against the pillow as you could feel yourself near the edge. Just needing one final push.

"But you love it best when my hand's around your throat. Isn't that right? Slut?"

You hadn't felt his hand move. Too lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Until you felt it grip your throat. Not hard. But just enough. Squeezing when he said slut. Sparks flew and your fingers and toes felt as if they were set to a light simmer. Your body going numb at the feeling and your pussy throbbing as you came. A high pitched moan of his name left your bitten lips as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you. Body moving in time with your spasming cunt as you began to feel the overstimulation kicking in, rearing its ugly head once more. The pain was excruciating as he continued but the pleasure washed over you again as your entrance continued to clench around his fingers. Silence as a moan caught in your throat. This had to be the biggest orgasm you had ever had. Nerves set alight with matches and turning into a forest fire that exploded like gasoline until it set to a simmer when Yoongi slowed his fingers down ever so slightly. Enamoured by your head thrown back and your mouth in the perfect shape of an O. He would've cum right there, just at the sight of you convulsing beneath him.

"Cause he's off to pay his crimes, and he's got no time for mine'

"Fuck, me." He breathed, shaky breaths too.

Quickly flipping you onto your front, your still tied arms now crossed over one another. Propping your legs up so you were on your knees. A sharp smack to your ass sent you reeling into another sobbing mess. Beginning to plead with him. For something; anything.

Soon enough you felt his hands returning to your hips and ass, caressing them carefully. Your ass flinching at the contact of his lips on your lower back, you could hear a slight slapping sound behind you, assuming he had started to touch himself again. You whimpered at the thought of not being able to watch his veiny hand slide up and down his equally veiny cock. Fuck.

His lips still against your skin as he whispered "I nearly came just like that, watching you cum all over my fingers baby."

There it was again. Baby. Nothing more nothing less. There was a pregnant pause before he sighed, beginning to speak again.

"You're so fucking hot" a groan sounded as the pace of his hand quickened against his length. The slapping sound intensified.

You whimpered, beginning to move your ass up and down, wiggling it at him to invite him in.

"Yoongi, just fuck me already." You whined.

A sharp slap sounded against your ass, reverberating through the room. You winced at the pain, taking in a quick breath before a hand returned to your ass kneading it in his palm.

"Slut is so impatient today. I'll fuck you, don't worry." His words were menacing.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

His hand continued to knead at your reddening cheek before pulling it aside with his thumb, showing your dripping, waiting entrance for him. He almost lost it. Almost. Deciding that you had both waited long enough he lined his throbbing condom clad cock up with your entrance and pushed in with great speed. Hissing at the feeling of your tight wet walls surrounding him.

"Oh god." You managed a strangled whimper into the mattress.

Breath caught in your throat as you could feel his dick beginning to move swiftly inside you. His hips slapping against your ass that was sure to bruise tomorrow, your wrists were aching, your body going numb to every other feeling apart from the feeling of him ploughing into you. Your vision was starry eyed and you hated it. But you loved it. Sobs began to rack through your body as he spanked you once again, sending waves of pain and pleasure through you.

His pace continued as all you could do was lie there with your hands tied, begging for anything he was willing to give you. But also feeling the familiar sting of too much. But it was never too much. You willed your body to continue on. To not give up the ghost yet. You prayed for your body to fight on. To take every thrust he battered into your throbbing, weeping pussy.

The coil you had almost forgotten existed now in the plains of numb, vacant ability to even string a sentence together, began to tighten again, expecting a fraying spent body, not one this eager for your umpteenth orgasm this evening. Your pussy clenched as he continued, hollow groans you imagine him with his head back as he thrusted into you, licking his perfect lips with that sinful tongue. God, he made you crazy.

"Yoongiiiiii, fuck I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please" your tone indescribable as you panted for breath that escaped you with every thrust as his skin continued to slap against yours.

Suddenly feeling him pull out which almost made you weep but being turned back over onto your back, the tie being ripped from off your head. You were greeted by a furiously sweating Yoongi. Sweat dripping from his dark chocolatey hair just above his eyes. His lips swollen pink from where he had probably been biting on them so much, not to mention when he had used the same lips to devour you not 20 minutes prior. His chest was heaving and lips parted as he gazed at you for a moment.

"I'm seeing that gorgeous face when you cum, no way I'm missing that." He stifled a laugh as he lined himself up with your entrance again after wrapping your legs around his torso.

'They run around beneath our feet, we roll around beneath these sheets'

Sliding in once more you rattled your wrists against the silk tie restraints as you cocked your head back in pleasure. You let out a high pitch moan, almost exasperated in tone, your back arching up into him before slumping back on the bed in defeat. Yoongi almost reading your mind whilst still thrusting inside of you began to untie the ties that bound your wrists. You thanked heaven for your saving grace. You could run your hands through his hair now, feel his sweaty skin beneath your fingertips. And soon after your hands were free he laced them in his own. This also being new to you. You knew the drill when having sex with him. He laid down the ground rules early on. No kissing. No cuddling. No hand holding. So what he did next really sent you through a loop.

"Fuck I'm close." He sighed before leaning down to kiss you.

His lips were salty, battered and bruised much like your own but you didn't care, you kissed back with all your might as he continued to thrust away inside you. Feeling his cock hit that sweet spot again you mewled, breaking the kiss with your head thrown back.

"Here kitten?" He asked, smirk evident in his voice.

You whimpered with a nod as he continued to thrust in the right place, hitting your spot so deliciously you couldn't help cry out when his pace turned rampant and he held your hips in his bone crushing hands, sure to bruise tomorrow. The punishing pace was set as his hips bucked into you and you tried to grab at anything you could, finding no sturdy comfort in the crisp white hotel sheets beneath you. Your breathing was erratic, you hadn't realised you'd been sweating until now, although not as much as the man above you. You watched in distracted awe at the sweat running down his broad chest, along his stomach and down to where his cock was pummelling into you.

You could feel it again, serious this time. Your orgasm creeping up on you faster than any bullet. Your legs tingled and your toes curled. Your knees felt like they would break and your arms felt detached from the rest of your body. In the last moments you saw him gazing down at you, exasperated, fucked out beyond belief. But smiling. You reached up at the nape of his neck and pulled him down to you, pressing your lips against his as you succumbed to the pleasure that wreaked havoc throughout your body. A heart wrenching shout came from your lips. In every moment, a glitch of your body as it spasmed with unruly disregard and poor timing. Your pussy clenched repeatedly on his cock while he continued to thrust inside of you.

"Oh fuuuck, I'm coming." He groaned into your neck as he used hard, purposeful thrusts as he came in the condom.

'He's coming down, coming down'

The sweat that accumulated on both your bodies cemented you together for moments after. All pretence and notions suspended as you both caught your breath back. Heaving. Breathing one another in. Soon Yoongi peeled himself off of you and went to remove the condom. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Stars still there. You weren't imagining it in the end. Scraping your hair from off your face as you wiped the sweat from your brow. Soon he returned, bouncing onto the bed next to you, looking up at you in adoration almost. A nervous smile present on his lips as if he didn't just drag you to the 7th layer of hell with him. Or was it heaven? You could never be sure.

You looked over at him with heavy lids, inquisitive look on your face as he swept hair from your shoulder. Looking down at you with that same smile. Before -

"You fancy going on a date, some time?"

NOW Mr Min is usually not my main man but i can't help it, just, shit okay Min Yoongi.

I realise I'm probably going to hell for this but we joon

Hope you guys enjoyed, working on the next installment as we speak 🤪 if you want to be added to a taglist let me know 🥴

Love Always

Mac 🧡💜

#BADLANDS x BTS #smut series #myg x reader #non idol au #min yoongi smut #this is intense #i can only apologise #bts #bangtan #bts smut

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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itstittycitybaby · 4 years

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Flirty (Lin Beifong x Reader) Part 3

a/n: im pumping these out so fast. after i finish an episode i have to immediately start typing or i’ll go crazy.

“This is Azure and this is Ruby!” The two of them hopped in your palm as you held them out. “They’re prettier up close,” Opal said, grinning. Her eyes were bright today. She looked happier than last night after she ran from Lin’s room crying. You chuckled, “For the most part, until Azure pecks my face for food because he’s a dick.” Opal looked taken aback but didn’t comment on your choice of words. It was weird considering Suyin had a mouth on her when she was younger. Her and her daughter were different.

“Would you like to hold them?” She nodded. “Ruby is very shy,” you said, moving slowly with the hand Azure was on. “So she has the tendency to be more skittish and peckish. She’s sweet though, don’t worry,” you reassured Opal once you saw the nervous look on her face. “Okay,” she said softly, watching Azure stand on her palm. “He’s beautiful.”

You chuckled, “Oh he knows. The more you feed his ego, the more he thinks he’s in charge.” Opal giggled, stroking his feathers gently. An idea popped in your head. “Hey Opal?” She perked up, “Yes?” “Could you look after Azure today? I have some work to do and he can be a real pain.” Opal smiled brightly and her eyes lit up with joy. “Are... are you sure?” “Mhm,” you replied, grinning. “Just give him back after dinner.” “Okay!” With that you bid Opal and Azure a goodbye. “Whore,” you murmured to Azure as you left, ignoring your leave because of some new attention.

******

Suyin was excited about your plans. Her husband looked over them and praised your new pitch for the tram station. “Hey Suyin,” you said, after her husband left. Suyin hummed while pouring the two of you wine in a couple glasses. “Mind if I ask you something?” She nodded, handing you a glass before sitting down. You sat across from her, legs clamped together nervously. You fiddled with the glass in your hand. “I’m not sure how to ask this..since I haven’t seen you in well, forever.” “Nonsense (Y/N),” Suyin waved you off, “We’re family! I’ll answer any question you have.” “Thanks,” you responded, genuinely. She’d always been so welcoming and kind. The Beifongs were the only family you had. You regretted not staying in contact with at least Su.

“Whenever I was in the village..there was some gossip.” Suyin’s brow quirked as she took a sip of her wine. You sighed, brows pulling together and a soft frown on your face. “I don’t really listen to shitty rumors but it’s been so long I couldn’t help but think.. was there something that happened? Between you and Lin..?”

Suyin looked surprised. She tapped her finger on the wineglass as she pondered. The ring on her finger “Sister drama, you know how it is. Nothing happened. Lin is just so bitter and won’t let go of the past. You know that better than anyone.” You frowned at her words. Suyin wasn’t wrong but..she made Lin sound totally heartless. “I just wanted to make sure. She’s been so...angry since I’ve gotten here. I know I probably have a part in that but..I’m just..worried.”

Suyin leaned over and squeezed your hand. Her smile didn’t seem to reach her eyes. “It’s alright (Y/N). Just give her some time. I can see she cares about you. Not that she’ll admit it.” You chuckled, a grin splitting your face. “Really?” Suyin looked amused at your enthusiasm. You really were a child even from how much time passed. “I promise. Now, why don’t we catch up. I haven’t seen you in what, thirty years?” You nodded, taking a gulp of your wine. As Suyin filled you in about her life you couldn’t help but feel, that she was lying. Your instincts screamed at you that there was more going on than she led you to believe. She wasn’t telling you everything. But she had been so kind and comforting to you since you’ve got here. Surely Suyin wouldn’t lie to you. She was your friend, the one who listened to your ranting after a fight with Lin. Su let you cry on her shoulder once your parents kicked you out and offered for you to share her room. Yet, as much as you tried reassuring yourself, your gut kept screaming.

*****

Lin touched her scar gently. The memories and the emotions she had tried so hard to repress and forget, were now bubbling back onto the surface. Toph had allowed Suyin to walk all over her. She gotta away with anything while Lin busted her ass trying to impress her mother. The price gave Lin a scar that mocked her everyday. It was disgusting to know that Suyin had been let go scotch free and still hadn’t given an apology.

The needles had done its damn job alright. Lin was reminded of her failure of being the perfect daughter. No matter how hard she tried, Top didn’t seem to care. Was she really that unloveable? Could she even have someone want her? Lin huffed as she limped from the acupuncturist’s office to find Suyin. Her hand trembled from anger and the rocks shifted underneath her feet. It was getting bad again. Except this time she didn’t have her work or whiskey to drown herself in. Beads of sweat rolled off of her face and back. Lin ignored the acupuncturist’s qualms of resting and hurried to find Suyin. She was going to end this once and for all.

*****

Lin dodged the metal sculpture thrown her way. It missed her, barely. Lin raised some rocks from the ground and unleashed them onto Suyin. She couldn’t help but smirk when one of them hit her. Her sister retaliated by hurling metal plates towards her. Lin dodged all of them except for the last one. The impact made her tumble. Another boulder was thrown in Lin’s direction, but she rolled fast enough. She was getting slower and more sluggish. Her head felt hazy but she brushed it off. ‘Now’s not the time.’

Getting into a fighting stance she anticipated her sister’s next move. Lin lifted another boulder. It wobbled in the air but she still flung it toward Suyin. “Getting tired,” Suyin taunted. “Barely,” Lin barked. Suyin flung her fingers and bended the metal wall around her as a shield. The boulder broke from hitting the metal as soon as her sister warped it. “I wonder Lin,” Suyin yelled, face tugging into an ugly smirk. “If this was the reason Tenzin left you. No wonder (Y/N) left to travel the world. They couldn’t handle a bitter woman like you.”

Lin’s jaw clenched in anger. Her teeth ground together and her hands trembled. She felt hot in her chest and the blood inside of her veins prickled. Lin raised a leftover metal plane on the ground. “That’s enough!” Lin snapped her head over to the new voice. The metal plate clattered onto the ground. (Y/N). There was a wooden staff in your hands. You twirled it in front of you, fighting off the tiny sharp rocks Suyin hurled over. Your arms trembled, eyes hushed with angry tears. You shook with rage from the mess in front of you. Lin stiffened; for once in her life she was afraid. Afraid of what you might say or do. Lin finally had you within her fingertips. Were you going to slip away again?

“I left on my own terms,” you growled. “How dare you use that against Lin.” The staff twirled effortlessly in your fingers. Lin was frozen in her spot. All she could do was watch you and your bird flit around you. “You’re a coward Suyin,” you gritted out, “A fucking weasel. What did you do Suyin? Don’t you think you’ve done enough?! ” Korra and Bolin gawked from the sidelines, witnessing unfolding between the two of them.

Suyin’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t say anything. Su’s eyes calculated the situation. Using her sister’s fear to her advantage, she flung the metal wall hard enough that Lin was sent sprawling. “Lin,” you cried out. She flew towards the courtyard and her back hit the fountain’s stairs. Lin growled, rising up again. Her stance wobbled from the force. Little black spots formed in her vision. Shaking out of it, Lin raised her fists, preparing for the next hit. Suyin walked calmy, crossing the bridge. “Are you done,” she asked, sounding bored. “Not yet,” Lin snarled.

You glided into the air. Your paraglider soared you towards the two of them. A group of Suyin’s people spectated the fight. The tips of your feet touched the ground beneath you. Rolling, you folded your paraglider away. You jumped on your feet and facing Lin. “Move out of the way,” she snapped at you. “No,” you replied stubbornly. Lin created metal shards with her fingers. You grabbed your staff from your back, preparing for the onslaught to come. The shards sliced the air and they raced towards you. The staff moved in a tan blur as you twirled it with rapid speed, flinging some of the sharp metal away from you. They made a thunk, as it pierced into the wood. Once the metal stopped racing towards you that’s when the adrenaline died down. Your temple seared with pain and felt warm and sticky. You hissed, fingertips touching the wound. It stung like hell. You were bleeding. Your hand flung up to your nose. It throbbed from the blood coming out of your nostrils. Lin felt her heart shatter. You looked up to her with disbelief. She didn’t mean to hurt you, she didn’t mean to-

“Look what you’ve done Lin,” Suyin taunted, raising a boulder. “All you’re good for is hurting people. Especially the ones you care about.”

Suyin flung the boulder. Ruby started fluttering her wings, her cries piercing your ears. The pain in your temple worsened more thanks to her screeching. Ruby flew away from your shoulder to safety. Turning around, you shifted yourself in front of Lin. “Move,” she shouted. You ignored her, pressing your fingers into your palm. An orange shield burst out from your palms and surrounded the two of you. Lin gasped softly. Son of a bitch actually did it. You stood in front of her determined. The orange bubble was see through like an orange stained glass window. Your stretched your hands and fingers out in front of you. As soon as the shield popped up, Suyin’s boulder hit with a sickening crack. You cried out, straining to hold it up. A searing pain erupted through you. It felt like your soul was splitting in two. “It’s hurting you,” Lin cried.

Suddenly, a flash of green jumped on the bridge between you and Suyin. Opal. Air pushed out of her hands. “Fuck,” you shouted, shield starting to crack. “You’re both sisters,” Opal cried, “Why are you hurting each other?!” Her words fell on deaf ears. Lin was focused on how your body swayed, struggling to keep itself up. Lin yelled, “(Y/N), stop. This isn’t about you! Save yourself!” The shield shattered. Orange shards flew into the air and dissolved into nothing. You whimpered, tumbling to the ground. Lin’s heart tugged at your soft cries. Ruby flew to you immediately, shrieking. Lin hobbled over and panted. The red parakeet’s high shrieks made her ears hurt. Her vision started to fade. She felt weak. She was hopeless to do anything. Lin’s feet fell under her. She stretched her hand out, trying to reach you. You were too far. The last thing she saw was your unmoving form, curled in on itself.

#legend of korra #legend of korra fanfic #legend of korra x reader #lin beifong x reader #lin beifong #flirty series #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fan fic

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

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A Change in the Weather AU (inspired by Cacophonylights's A Change in the Weather) - Chapter 30

Read on AO3.

(Author’s note - the above cover gives hint about this chapter, and chapter 31 :D)

Kurt appreciates drama.

He appreciates it to a degree rivaled only by his dad’s love of NASCAR and Finn’s obsession with grilled cheese sandwiches.

It might even be said, by a select few, that he possesses a flair for the dramatic.

Kurt isn’t, however, a fan of the fact that drama seems to follow him wherever he goes, comes courtesy of big ticket items, and hangs over his head like a sword held aloft by a single thread of red rope licorice.

That he doesn’t appreciate.

The drama Kurt does enjoy happens to be genre-specific, goes hand-in-hand with sweeping, over-the-top, romantic gestures, and maybe a dance number or two.

Like the situation he’s currently in, preparing to perch atop a magnificent red roan mare. Kurt has never been up close and personal with a horse before. The first thing he notices is they’re so much taller - and wider - in real life than they seem on screen. He also didn’t know he’d have to be introduced to his horse before he could mount it (though when you use a word like mount, the need for an introduction makes sense).

Their groom teaches Kurt how to brush his mare’s mane (which he is determined to braid somewhere along the way, get it out of her eyes). Then he earns her favor by feeding her sugar cubes. She plucks them one by one from his outstretched palm, and Kurt falls instantly in love.

If his future as a Broadway phenom ever hits the skids, equestrian sports are beginning to look like an acceptable replacement.

But there is a problem.

Everything about potentially riding this horse terrifies him.

Sebastian rented the horses from a stable nearby, one the Smythe family frequents whenever they’re in town. The horses don’t belong to the Smythes, but according to the man who saddled them, they might as well, as Sebastian’s family reserves the exact same beasts every summer.

Sebastian mounts his own mare with the skill of an accomplished equestrian because of course he does. Kurt, on the other hand, requires the assistance of two bubbly blond stable hands (who remind him enough of Brittany and Sam that he has to do a double take) and a large wooden block. Sebastian watches the calamity go down from his own saddle with intense interest and a twinkle in his eye. Between trying to maintain balance and not roll his ankle, Kurt spots Sebastian sporting his signature smirk and braces for the taunts guaranteed to come, which he plans to volley with comebacks he’s already preparing in his head. But when Kurt finally finds his seat, Sebastian gives him a smile that appears to have nothing devious hiding behind it.

“All set?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Kurt manages, panting from the exertion of pulling himself up and throwing a leg over, doing both so enthusiastically he nearly propelled himself clear over the other side of his horse. “All set.”

“Everyone’s first time goes like that,” Sebastian reassures him with a dismissive wave and only a sliver of innuendo.

“Even Julian’s?” Kurt asks bitterly, his ego stinging. He imagines the older Smythe boy launching himself onto a stallion’s muscular back from the ground using only the saddle horn to boost him up, then galloping off into the sunset, leaving the rest of his family in the dust.

But Sebastian dashes that image with a nod. “Yup. Julian excels at a great many things. But for some reason, horseback riding isn’t one of them.”

“A-ha. Somehow I don’t believe you.”

“I’ve got no reason to lie, babe. And besides - I have videos.” Sebastian bounces his eyebrows, apparently relishing the fact. “Lots of them.”

Kurt’s left eyebrow bobs up. “So you gather blackmail material on your brother, too?”

“I don’t see why you’d assume he’d be immune.” Sebastian’s horse, itching to get on the trail, shifts her weight underneath him. He strokes her neck, shushing her to keep her still. It’s such an endearing gesture, so unlike the Sebastian Kurt once despised … but so much like the Sebastian he’s grown to love. “It’s tit for tat, really. Lord knows he’s got tons of stuff on me. I’ve got stuff on Liv, too, but I’m smarter than to use it.”

“Why’s that?”

Sebastian barks out a laugh that, underneath the surface, is laced with genuine fear. “Are you kidding? She’d murder me in my sleep!”

“Then why have it?”

“As leverage against Julian.”

“And that works how exactly?”

“If I let something I have on Livvie slip but I can convince her that Julian is responsible …” Sebastian sucks a breath in through his teeth, his eyes going distant, like he’s imagining the outcome of such an act, the gruesome devastation that would ensue. “But I’d only do that as a last resort. Julian would have to do something particularly heinous for me to go that far.”

Kurt shakes his head disapprovingly. Poor Olivia. Kurt wonders if she knows that she’s Sebastian’s nuclear option. Sebastian and Julian must be rubbing off on Kurt more than he knows because he also wonders how much that information might be worth. “Oh what a twisted life you lead. You are truly a criminal mastermind.”

“You know it,” Sebastian says, throwing Kurt a wink. He clicks his tongue and leads his horse away, Kurt’s mare following behind as if she knew that was the plan all along.

Sebastian takes them to a rise overlooking the beach, the trail to get there narrower than Kurt likes. He’s sure his horse knows what she’s doing. This isn’t her first time walking this trail, after all. But again, Kurt’s mare is a big animal, and she lists from side to side. This trail, flush up against the cliff side, is one Kurt would think twice about taking on foot before calling it quits, doing an about face, and going off in search of the nearest coffee shop. Since there are no seat belts, the only thing keeping him from sliding off and falling to his death is the strength of his thighs.

Kurt thought his thighs were strong. Only now does he see that cutting the 30 Minute Buns and Thighs video he used to do religiously from his cardio rotation was a huge mistake.

Fear for his life aside, the view from the overlook is spectacular, but the height vomit inducing. Kurt leans forward, barely budging in his saddle to peek over the edge, and his stomach lurches up into his throat.

He has to trust his horse. She wouldn’t go running off this cliff for no reason. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt herself. But what about him? Would she buck him off? What motivation would she have to do so? Horses, like dogs, can sense the good in people, can’t they? Not just the shallow good like, “I put a dollar in a Salvation Army bucket once,” but the deep down, selfless good. Kurt isn’t a bad person, but he can be a bit inconsiderate at times, especially with wait staff.

If this horse decides to judge him, his inability to stop snapping at waiters will be the hill he ends up dying on, he just knows it.

The path takes his mare nauseatingly close to the edge for a brief second, and Kurt bites his tongue to keep from screaming.

“Whoa, Nellie,” he says in a wobbly voice, pulling up beside Sebastian’s mare, stopped on a ledge wide enough to accommodate both animals … and the two of them should Kurt decide to crawl off his horse, lay flat on his stomach, and hug the ground.

Sebastian, watching Kurt’s silent crisis run its course, points out, “You do know your horse’s name is Desiree, right?”

“I do. And by the way, I have questions about that. But whoa, Desiree doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

Sebastian shrugs. “You’re not wrong.”

“So,” Kurt starts, swallowing half a dozen times to stop his voice from shaking, “does your exceptional riding proclivity qualify you as a ‘horse boy’ then?”

Sebastian chuckles. “No. No, Livvie is the horse person in our family. Always has been”

“That’s right,” Kurt says, wrapping the reins around his hand for security so tightly he’s afraid his fingers might turn purple. “She got the pony.”

“Mm-hmm. Pony, private riding lessons, the whole bit. The trails around the beach are perfect for horseback riding. So when we’d come out here, my dad and mom would take her, and Julian and I were forced to tag along. To teach us important life lessons, they said. I think they just didn’t want to leave us alone, afraid of the trouble we’d get into unsupervised. Needless to say, Molly here and I have a special relationship.”

Kurt eyes Sebastian coyly through lowered lashes. “Should I be jealous?”

Sebastian eyes him back, wearing a way-too-suggestive smile considering the subject matter. “Tremendously.”

“I’ve always wanted to learn to ride a horse,” Kurt admits. “I think a lot of kids do.”

“Did you picture yourself as Liz Taylor in National Velvet? Or Robert Redford in The Electric Horseman?”

“More like Viggo Mortensen in Hidalgo.”

Sebastian gives that some thought before commenting, green eyes aimed at the sky, peering at strings of clouds overhead. “I can see that. I think you’d look rather distinguished in a Stetson Diamante.”

“I’ve always thought so,” Kurt says, pulling himself up in his stirrups, a proud expression on his face.

Sebastian’s eyes, tracing the clouds, find the ocean, stare off into the sunset as the tide rolls up the sand. “Julian teased her endlessly for it.”

“Julian did?” Kurt asks with a dubious tilt of his head.

“Yup. Just Jules. I didn’t.”

“Why not?” It sounds like an odd question after Kurt asks it, grilling his boyfriend to find out why he didn’t cut down his older sister over one of her favorite hobbies.

“I envied her her love of riding,” Sebastian replies without turning to look Kurt’s way, the way Kurt had expected. “You know, when kids ask their parents for a pony, it’s usually because they think it’s going to be fun and exciting, make them look cool, turn them into a superhero or something. Not her. She loved riding for the sake of riding and for no other reason. She loved horses simply because she wanted to take care of a horse, even before she ever sat on one … or so my parents tell me.” He looks at the reins pooled in his hands, the horse’s mane beneath them chocolate brown, close to the shade of his own hair. Sebastian sniffs … or Kurt thinks he does. He only sees the subtle movement, doesn’t hear from where he and his horse are standing. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved anything that way.”

Kurt nudges his horse closer, feeling too far away with the few feet of space between them. “Not even your car?”

“Oh, well, cut me to the quick, I guess.” Sebastian throws his head back and laughs. This time Kurt definitely hears him sniffle, sees him wipe a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand. But there must only be the one because when he turns to look at Kurt, his cheeks are dry. “No, Olivia is special. When you take riding lessons, the first thing your instructor tells you is that riding is less about getting on a horse’s back and flying down the straightaway and more about taking care of something other than yourself. You put your horse first at all times. Its comfort is paramount.” Sebastian looks back at the ocean, clears a catch from his throat. “To ride a horse is to put your trust in someone else, and have someone else trust you back. Whatever you do, you do to bring out the best in the animal you choose to ride. If you hate horses, you’re going to be a lousy horse person. Olivia doesn’t see things the way they are,” he says after a pause. “She sees things the way they could be. People, too. Always finding the best in everyone. She’s not a cynic like me and my brother. She inherited the lion’s share of my parents’ optimism and goodwill. She didn’t leave any for the rest of us. And she knows what she wants, has since she was little. She launches into life with both feet. So does Julian, though, in his case, he doesn’t always land on them.”

“What about you?”

A hint of the cynicism Sebastian mentioned comes to rest in the corners of his mouth, pushing it into a half-grin. “I’m not quite as brave as they are.”

“I think you are.”

“Reckless isn’t the same as brave, babe.”

“I think it depends on how you look at it, on how you define reckless. But you have so many opportunities available to you. And a built in safety net. You can afford to be reckless.”

Sebastian chews his lower lip, seems to contemplate his next words carefully. “Because I have money, right?”

“Right,” Kurt answers quickly, then suddenly feels like he’s taken a wrong turn down a one-way street.

“Money doesn’t help when you don’t have a path.”

“Yes it does!” Kurt says, wondering why it is that Sebastian doesn’t see his wealth as a boon when it’s as clear as day to Kurt. Enjoy all the things his wealth can buy him. Sebastian had repeated that sentiment last night when they were talking about Kurt going to NYADA, and taking that $10,000 check so he could get there. Which proves that wealth can definitely buy a future. A good one, even if Sebastian might be on the fence about which way to go. “It can help you build your own path. It can build you a dozen paths!”

“But where would they lead?” It’s a rhetorical question, but one that sounds like he’s pleading with Kurt to give him an answer. Not in general terms, but a specific destination. “If I don’t know which direction I want to go, what good does a path do me?”

“It gets you started going somewhere! Anywhere!”

“And what’s wrong with staying where you are when you don’t know where to go?” Sebastian asks, his voice so thick under the weight of his emotions, it cracks. This isn’t just a friendly discussion they’re having anymore, Kurt realizes. This is something else. Something Kurt doesn’t fully understand. “Isn’t that what they teach you in wilderness survival? Stay where you are until someone finds you? Hug a tree and shit?”

That remark strikes Kurt as so absurd considering the context of their conversation, he almost bursts out laughing. “Do I look like I would know the answer to a wilderness survival question?” But then that context becomes clearer, and Sebastian’s remark even more absurd. Wait … is he thinking about … staying in Ohio!?!?

“Do you think money solves everything, Kurt? Do you think those rich people on the Titanic could buy their way off that sinking ship?”

“They kinda did,” Kurt says sheepishly, face scrunching apologetically knowing that’s not the answer Sebastian wants to hear. “They were the only ones allowed on the lifeboats, so …

“Yeah. Right. Okay,” Sebastian says, each word clipped within an inch of its life. He turns away in frustration, focusing on the sunset as if he has to watch every last minute of it or suffer dire consequences.

“But you’re not on a sinking ship,” Kurt continues, watching his step with every word. “You can literally choose any direction and go. You wouldn’t have to know what’s there or even have a reason why. Just pack a bag and start walking.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Sebastian mutters grimly, followed by something else Kurt doesn’t catch, although he does hear the words know what you want to do.

“It sounds to me like you’re making excuses,” Kurt counters but not unkindly, “and I don’t know what for. To tell you the truth, I feel like I’ve entered an argument already in progress.”

Sebastian bristles, his back going rigid. Kurt holds his breath, unsure what he’s about to do. Would he turn his horse around and leave without a word, abandon Kurt there on the top of this rise in the dark?

No. Kurt is confident he wouldn’t. Sebastian isn’t that person. Not anymore. He wouldn’t do that.

Besides, Kurt’s mare would simply follow his. He’s really in no danger unless Sebastian comes up to him and shoves him off his horse.

Kurt isn’t convinced his thighs would protect him.

Kurt’s words seem to take the steam out of Sebastian. When he turns around to face Kurt, he looks tired. Worn down. “I’m sorry. Kurt. I’m not trying to start a fight. And don’t think I don’t understand where you’re coming from. I do. I really do. Maybe not from first hand experience but I get it. And you’re absolutely right. When you don’t have money, when you have to worry about where your next meal is coming from or how you’re going to pay your rent, it sucks. Money greases so many wheels, can take you to so many places. I’m fortunate. So fucking fortunate. But there’s something to be said about having an identity that doesn’t revolve around money.”

“I don’t … I don’t think I understand.” Kurt says it, but then he realizes that’s not entirely true. On some level, he does. For a good portion of his high school career, he had to contend with being known as the one out-and-proud gay kid. To most people, it was his sole descriptor. But there’s so much more to him.

Just like there’s so much about Sebastian’s situation that Kurt doesn’t understand.

“No matter where I am, if I’ve been there longer than a week and you ask someone about me, ask them to describe who I am, they’ll tell you I’m some rich douche. That’s it. That’s what I am. That’s who I was at Dalton. It doesn’t matter that I was a straight A student, 5.0 GPA, on the lacrosse team, that I was a Warbler, or any of that. I’m an asshole and I have money. That’s it. That’s my identity. But not you,” Sebastian says, his voice becoming hard and soft at the same time. “You’re Kurt Hummel. You’re a trail blazer. You’re compassionate and brave and talented ...”

“Who told you that?” Kurt interjects, squashing uncomfortable laughter with disbelief.

“Blaine for one,” Sebastian admits, though from his expression, he would rather pry up his fingernails than say that name. “The Warblers, your friends at that public school you went to, your teacher Will Schuester, your father, your stepmother, Finn and Puck. You do your own thing no matter what other people say. And even if they knock you down, you stick up for them. You ran for student body president on a platform of stopping bullying. I would never do that!”

“You don’t want to stop bullying?” Kurt asks, appalled enough to overlook the fact that Sebastian knows any of that. But when Sebastian shoots him a You have got to be kidding me! look, Kurt is immediately confronted with the reality of who he’s talking to. Sebastian was a bully! He blackmailed and schemed. He photoshopped vulgar pictures of Kurt’s stepbrother, and tried to steal his boyfriend. He’s only recently redeemed himself for any of that. There are people who would still consider him a bully - Kurt’s friends, people he loves - who haven’t had the opportunity Kurt has to get to know him.

But it’s also an unfair question. From what Kurt has learned, Sebastian wasn’t always that way. The person he was while he was at Dalton - that person was created, and by someone other than himself.

“I would never run for student body president in the first place!” Sebastian yells. “I don’t care about other people’s problems! I can’t be bothered! If I went to your school God forbid and people bullied me, I wouldn’t want to help them! I’d want to watch the place burn to the ground!”

“That … that’s not true!”

Sebastian leans towards him threateningly. But not threatening to hurt him. Threatening to make him see the truth. “Isn’t it!?”

“I …” Kurt puts a hand to his head and closes his eyes. Sebastian’s words pound in his brain. They connect a bunch of dots, but they also leave other sections of the overall picture blank. “I’m sorry, I … I don’t know what’s going on. We’ve gone from horses to your sister to student body president to arson and I … I think … I may have missed the point somewhere.”

“The point I’ve been trying to make,” Sebastian says slowly, bringing his mare closer to Kurt’s, “and very badly is that money is a wonderful thing to have. But it shouldn’t be your identity. You need to be something more. Money will never make you a whole person if you can’t be one without it.”

Kurt nods, relieved to have it summed up so nicely before either one of them accidentally says something they’ll both regret. With his own deadline of NYADA looming, Kurt forgot that Sebastian said he hasn’t chosen a college yet. What if that’s not the entire story?

What if he doesn’t know what he wants to do with the rest of his life? And what if that scares him?

“Okay,” Kurt says, accepting Sebastian’s hand when it finds his. “I … I think I get it. That makes sense.”

“I’m glad. Because believe it or don’t, I didn’t bring you up here to start an argument. I just wanted to watch the sun set. Show you one of my favorite thinking spots. To be honest …” Sebastian shakes his head “… I don’t know where half of that came from.”

Kurt gives Sebastian’s hand a comforting squeeze. He hopes that Sebastian might be willing to bring this subject up again at the beach house when they’re both a little more level-headed, better equipped to handle it. “Where would you say you fall on that spectrum? Between being whole and being not?”

“I’d have to say I’m extensively ventilated …” Sebastian brings Kurt’s hand to his mouth for a kiss, disarming smile locked back in place. “But on the mend.”

Kurt watches Sebastian run his thumb over his knuckles, hesitant to give his hand back, even with the darkness settling in around them. “You know,” Kurt says, “this picture you’re painting of who you are … if I wasn’t here, seeing it for myself, I don’t think I would ever believe any of this about you.”

Sebastian frowns, looks like he’s about to rush to his own defense, but he stops. “I guess I didn’t really give you the chance to find out for yourself.”

“Why isn’t this the foot you put forward all the time?”

“Because … I don’t like being vulnerable with people.”

“You don’t have to be vulnerable. But nice would be …” Kurt searches his head for the perfect word, but only comes up with “… nice. You know what they say - more flies with honey and all that.”

Sebastian sputters. “There you go again with those archaic expressions! Who on earth wants to be surrounded by flies? Being this version of me is too much work for too little pay off most of the time. For what I usually want, my methods get me results quicker.”

“So … what does that say about me?” Kurt asks. “You and I have been at this for months. And it’s not as if I rolled over for you the first chance I got.”

Sebastian tugs Kurt’s hand, brings him close enough to give him the whisper of a kiss against his cheek. “That says you’re worth the effort.”

***

It’s been well over a week since the Smythes descended on the beach house, and as much fun as it is having them there, Kurt is steadily becoming paranoid. He wouldn’t have had Olivia not made that remark about keeping an eye out for her mother. Now he’s convinced that every look Charlotte tosses his way holds significance.

A silent warning.

That she knows about him and Sebastian, and that the two of them are royally screwed - Sebastian more so than he, of course. Only she’s too nice to shred him to pieces in front of the family, so she’s waiting to do it in private.

He won’t know for certain until she corners him and they talk.

So he does the mature thing.

He avoids being alone with her at all costs.

He doesn’t hide behind curtains or vault over furniture when he sees her approach. He simply makes certain he’s never by himself for longer than a few minutes. That amounts to trips to the bathroom and any time he needs to change clothes, which (and he’s not proud of this) he’s done twice as an excuse not to talk to her. With Sebastian’s new found need to be with Kurt every conceivable second, that takes care of every time else. Still, in the confines of the beach house, Kurt knows it’s impossible to dodge Charlotte forever. He just hopes he can figure out what he’s going to say when the time comes, how he’s going to defend his and Sebastian’s actions.

How he’s going to make being a boyfriend-for-hire in order to deceive her in specific sound not so bad.

Sitting on Sebastian’s lap on the porch swing, Kurt’s favorite place in the house to be hands down, he’s finding it difficult to relax. Even though she’s nowhere where she can see them, Kurt feels her eyes on him. Several times he pops his head up and scans the beach to see if she’s walking along the shore, but no. She’s not there.

This is all in his head. He knows it. He’s building it up to something bigger than it needs to be. But if he doesn’t deal with things soon, he’s going to give himself a nervous condition.

“Hey, babe. I have to run to the bathroom,” Sebastian says, sliding his hands underneath Kurt’s rear and relocating him to the far side of the swing.

“O-okay,” Kurt says, a knot starting in his stomach, like a stop watch zeroing out before a tie-breaker race. “Don’t take too long.”

“Yeah, alright. I … won’t,” Sebastian says, giving Kurt an odd look before heading towards the door to his room. Kurt watches him go, crossing every finger on both hands and his toes in his socks, praying Sebastian returns before Charlotte discovers he’s alone and swoops in. Kurt doesn’t see her, hasn’t seen her for most of the day actually. He’d be hard pressed to say whether or not she’s even there.

Kurt and Sebastian ate dinner on the porch, intend on sleeping out there, too, in the tent still set up in the far corner. Did he see her before dinner? Or did Greg take her out to eat? They’d been discussing an Italian place not too far from the beach. They could be there, enjoying a romantic evening alone, with not a single thought to the deceptive practices of her son and his boyfriend. Or did she go shopping with Olivia? Olivia mentioned wanting to hit Yankee Candle for apple pie scented wax melts after stumbling across one of Kurt and Sebastian’s vanilla scented votives. That’s a possibility.

Unfortunately, there’s only one way for him to inconspicuously check. He’d have to go inside and take a peek for himself. If he texts Olivia, he runs the risk of her coming out to ask him what’s up with her mother in tow.

Kurt gets so wrapped up in thinking about where Charlotte could be that he misses her sweeping through the door right as Sebastian leaves, stopping her son to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, Kurt!” she says brightly, striding across the porch toward him, wrapped in the coziest looking, camel-colored, cashmere duster. He’s been looking for one just like it - not super chunky the way knitted dusters tend to be. This one looks soft, and clingy in all the right places. And that color - super complementary. Once she’s done verbally disemboweling him, he’ll have to ask her where she got it. “I was hoping I’d get you alone! You and my son seem to be locked together at the hip lately! I’d need a crowbar to separate you two!”

“That seems to be the consensus,” Kurt says, banishing the image of sweet matriarch Charlotte Smythe wielding a crowbar. He shouldn’t be this nervous around her. She’s never given him reason to be. She treats him like he’s part of the family. Besides, Sebastian and Julian both agree that Olivia is the scary one. Not their mother.

Then again, where do they think Olivia gets it from?

“That’s not a bad thing. I remember being your age, locked at the hip with my boyfriend,” she reveals, a speck of wickedness coloring her smile. “But as much as I adore my son, I was hoping I could talk to you - one on one.”

Kurt’s stomach flip-flops the way it did during his NYADA audition. The only difference is, at his audition, he had a pair of gold pants to give him strength. He loves borrowing Sebastian’s Ralph Lauren lounge pants, but it’s not the same. “Absolutely. What’s on your mind?”

“Well, I feel like you may be avoiding me … just a little,” she says, bringing a hand up, putting her thumb and forefinger together for emphasis.

“Oh, uh … no. No I haven’t. Not … consciously,” he fibs, but she stares him down. Even if she doesn’t know about him and Sebastian pretending to be boyfriends, she knows that Kurt has been lying about something. Charlotte is an intelligent woman. Kurt is not about to disrespect her. “I’m sorry if it seems that way. That wasn’t my intention.”

She stays silent a moment longer, scrutinizing him the same way Carole does him and Finn when her motherly instincts tell her not to trust them. And Carole’s instincts are pretty much consistently on the nose. But Charlotte may not feel comfortable scolding her son’s boyfriend.

She may have decided to let the guilt eat Kurt away for her.

“Sebastian says you have quite a fondness for this old swing,” she says. “But before you came along, he’d never come out here. Ever. You would think he was afraid of heights or something the way he avoided it, and my son is definitely not afraid of heights. In fact, if someone were to ask me what Sebastian is afraid of, I’d have to say there isn’t a thing … except losing you. And your good opinion of him.”

Kurt goes temporarily speechless. He wants to say he knew that, but he can’t. Because he didn’t. “Really?”

“A-ha. So imagine my surprise when I found out that the two of you weren’t actually an item.”

Kurt’s eyes pop open. He hopes he looks stunned, hurt, maybe even a little too scandalized for words. But he knows he’s not that good an actor. Not yet. Give him a couple of semesters, maybe a year abroad …

But right now, he probably looks exactly the way he feels.

Busted.

“That’s … that’s not …” Kurt tries, but he can’t get the rest of the words out. They physically refuse to leave his tongue.

“It’s not what?” Charlotte asks in that stern way mothers do when weeding out the truth.

When they know for a fact that they’re being duped.

“You’re … you’re right.” Those words are a bit harder to say but at least they come out. “We weren’t a couple. B-but we are now,” he adds, praying that makes everything right, that he didn’t inadvertently toss Sebastian under the bus and lose him everything.

“As of …?” she presses.

Oh God, Kurt thinks, losing the feeling in his entire body. Even his tongue goes numb. Nope. He didn’t lose Sebastian everything before. But he may right now. God, he wishes he’d thought to talk to Sebastian about this! Gotten some sort of story straight. “A…after the gala?” More like after they got to North Carolina, but Kurt is not about to split hairs.

Charlotte, who had been sitting with her legs crossed, an elbow resting comfortably on one knee and her chin cradled in the palm of her hand, straightens in surprise.

Oh no! Kurt panics, knowing by the look in her eyes that she’s putting two and two together, time lines readjusting, figuring out just how long they haven’t been a couple.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for lying to you! It’s … it’s all my fault!” he says, hoping that if he keeps her attention locked on himself, that if he can somehow spin it so he’s the perpetrator here and not Sebastian, she’ll forget that they were going to empty out his bank account and take back his tuition money. They can’t do that! Not after what Sebastian told him today! Not after everything he might be afraid of! “Are you angry? Disappointed? I’ll make it up to you somehow! I swear!”

“Calm down, dear.” She has an exquisite poker face. Kurt has to give her that. He doesn’t have a clue what she’s thinking. But the parts of her expression that aren’t blank are slightly sad. “I’m not disappointed. Or angry.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Kurt says, feeling like he’s walking on eggshells made of plate glass and battery acid, “how did you figure us out?”

Charlotte smirks. “Well, whether they like it or not, I know my children. And to be honest, because he’s my youngest, I probably know Sebastian best of all. Which is how I know this arrangement the two of you had …” She wiggles her forefinger between Kurt and an invisible placeholder that represents Sebastian “… whatever it entailed, wasn’t your idea. But I can appreciate you throwing yourself on that grenade, and don’t think I don’t know why.” Kurt is about to launch into a new line of disagreeing, but Charlotte sighs uncomfortably, and that makes him hold back. “Kurt, I’ve walked in on my son mid-coitus more times than any mother should, and what I saw when I walked in on the two of you … that wasn’t Sebastian. Not the one I’ve seen torturing himself with different sexual partners for years. The giggling, the smiling - that was different. It was honest. It’s what I’ve wanted for him for longer than I can tell you. And I was so happy to see it. But in a way, because of that, I knew it wasn’t real.”

“But … why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“Because of all the boys my son knows, he chose you. So he had to have a reason. And aside from that, I like you, Kurt. My husband husband likes you. We think that you’re good for our son. So I thought that, given enough time, what you two were pretending to be might become real.” Charlotte smiles. “As it turns out, it did.”

“Yes, it did,” Kurt agrees shyly.

“And I don’t want you to worry. Sebastian is safe. And that’s not contingent on you or on anything the two of you do. Gregory and I, we both bear some responsibility for Sebastian hatching this little scheme. Ultimatums don’t always work the way you intend them to.” That should sound like she’s admitting defeat, but the wink she gives Kurt admits anything but. “Just make sure you get what he promised you.”

“I did,” Kurt assures her. “It and a lot more.”

“Good,” she says. “Very good. You know, being a parent, you raise your kids the best way you know how, in the hopes that they grow into adults that can make good decisions on their own. I may not agree with all of the decisions my children have made, but they are their decisions to make. I can’t micromanage their lives. I have to trust them.”

“I think my dad would agree with you,” Kurt says, thinking back on all the times his father stressed that Kurt was an adult, that he’d be out of the house soon, and that his decisions were his own. And as much as Kurt appreciated the sentiment, the look in his father’s eye when he said it, one he probably thought he was covering so well, gutted him.

“Your father is a good man,” Charlotte says, giving Kurt’s hand a pat. “And from what I can see, he did a wonderful job raising you.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says, feeling way more at ease now than he did when this conversation started. “For what it’s worth, I think you guys did an amazing job as parents, too.”

Charlotte’s smile dips, wobbles at the corners, and Kurt wonders if he said something wrong. She sits back in the swing, turns her head slightly away. She gazes down the beach, the same way Sebastian does when he thinks about something sad, watching the water rush in to meet the shore, then out to join the waves. “Thank you, Kurt,” she says finally. “That does mean a lot.”

***

Julian’s demeanor has been changing in increments.

Kurt thinks he may be the only one who notices since he’s spent time alone with every member of the Smythe family and no one else has mentioned it. But Julian has become sullen.

Downright sulky.

He hasn’t gotten on Sebastian’s case recently half as much as when he got there, hasn’t flirted with Kurt in the past few days other than to tell him he looks good wearing his clothes (a black Henley Kurt thought was Sebastian’s, which had found itself in Sebastian’s room due to an unfortunate dry cleaning mishap).

The change started about the same time Kurt began to notice that the long phone conversations Julian had been having with Cooper - the ones that started in the family room or in the kitchen after dinner but eventually sent Julian outside searching for privacy - seemed to happen less and less, and with no estimated time of Cooper’s arrival in sight. Kurt reminds himself that Julian and Cooper’s relationship has always been a volatile one, so maybe this is just the way things go between them.

But it’s still heartbreaking.

Julian seemed so happy when he first arrived, first told them about Cooper spending the summer with him, and now ...

Kurt hopes that their flame hasn’t burned out so quickly, the way he feared his with Sebastian would, the thrill of the chase gone, the shine of the taboo beginning to take on a matte finish.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Julian says, catching Kurt off guard and staring as he makes his way up to their towels spread out on the beach. Kurt wasn’t staring at Julian, even though he’d been looking in the man’s direction. He was just staring, lost in his own thoughts. But he’ll never convince Julian of that. “Why don’t you take a picture? It lasts longer. In fact, I have a few I can text you, save you the trouble. They’re organized by various states of undress …”

“That’s a surefire way to end up with a broken screen,” Olivia says while Sebastian scoots his towel over, scoops up his boyfriend.

“Happen to have any of you in a Franciscan robe?” Kurt counters. “Maybe even a kaftan?”

Julian smirks, and even though it makes him look as handsome as ever, it doesn’t brighten his face, doesn’t reach his eyes. “You know, I might.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Olivia snickers, “so be careful what you ask for. Even if he does, nothing says it’ll be PG.”

“Speaking of, what are you two gentlemen doing tomorrow night?” he asks. “I mean, between the sex, sex, and more sex.”

“Have they been having a lot of sex?” Olivia asks offhandedly while she scrolls through her phone.

“As far as I can tell. I don’t know one hundred percent. They haven’t invited me to join in.”

“We don’t have any hard and fast plans,” Sebastian says, diverting the topic of conversation away from his and Kurt’s sex life. “Why do you ask? And before you say anything, threesomes are out.”

“Airiel Down is playing at Red Hat,” Julian says, reaching into the pocket of his shorts for his phone. “I got two tickets. I was going to take Cooper, but he hasn’t …” Julian’s voice waffles, goes minutely hoarse.

Olivia’s eyes dart his way.

No. That didn’t go unnoticed, Kurt thinks when her gaze shifts to Sebastian, and then Sebastian looks at Kurt. All three of them had heard the same thing.

“Anyway, anyway,” Julian says, pushing past it, “no reason for them to go to waste.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you could still go. Scalp the other ticket,” Sebastian suggests, but from the tone of his voice, it sounds like he’s asking another question entirely.

“I’m sure, little bro. No worries.” Julian chuckles, but it’s as dry as the sand they’re sitting on. They watch in silence as Julian types out a text and attaches the electronic tickets. A second later, Sebastian’s phone in his pocket beeps. “Your boyfriend here needs a night out, and exposure to some of our fine North Carolina culture.” Julian grins. For a moment, he’s closer to normal than he’s been in days. “Besides, you two need to give that beautiful ass of his a break.”

#acitw #acitw au #kurtbastian #sekurt

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ephemeral-afterlight · 5 years

Text

Day 31: Embrace

(The sun shines brightly.)

Whumptober 2019 Day 31: Embrace

Word Count: 4008

Relationships: DLAMP (romantic), Creativitwins (familial) NOT remrom

Warnings: Remus being unclean (literally. like garbage kind of unclean), insect (ladybug). Oh my gosh I think that's it?????? lmk if I missed any !!!!!

A/N: !!!!!!!!!!!!!! aaaaa oh my gosh i'm finally done!!! i know i've had some slips and that my timing wasn't always the greatest, but surprisingly, i did every single prompt!!!!!! a lot of these works aren't very good, but i'm just glad i managed to get them all out regardless. here's the final fic, just a bunch of cute fluff!! hope ya'll enjoy this roman-centric piece, and thanks for sticking around with me throughout this stressful dabble into the land of writing challenges!

Roman has a checklist.

It’s a small one, boasting only five items, but they’re all very important. The list itself does have a physical form, a glittery artwork on a big poster board that sits proudly on his desk, but it mostly just resides in his own mind. Although he absolutely would if he could, carrying the big paper around while he completes the tasks would just get annoying after a while, and probably take away from the sincerity of his actions. He wants to be as genuine as possible, to match the love residing in his heart, so it’s important that he tries to be more serious about this. Maybe he can take some pages out of Logan’s book.

Finally finishing his checklist is literally the only thing he’s been thinking about recently, constantly in his mind nagging for completion. He thinks of it in the shower, at dinner, during their movie nights, you name it. And he’s thinking of it now, as he sits in his cushy desk chair and stares with rapt attention at his swirling, loopy handwriting and artistic doodles. It may be a short list, but certain tasks are likely to be a huge undertaking, so he’s brainstorming ideas on how to properly carry them out. One or two of which will be easy, but the others require a certain delicate touch to make sure it all goes as smoothly as possible.

He thinks he’s ready.

So Roman decides to start at task number one, which pertains to a certain fatherly side. He’s sure to be in the kitchen baking cookies, as evident by the delicious smell wafting up the stairs and down the hallway and underneath Roman’s door, so he feels fairly confident as he descends the stairs and strides into the kitchen. The smell is much stronger in here, and Roman can easily pick apart the various aromas given off by brown sugar, vanilla, and chocolate.

“These smell absolutely delectable, Padre!” Roman exclaims as he sweeps over to where Patton stands, leaning sideways on the counter as he watches the other side mold little balls of cookie dough to place on the tray in front of him. Said side looks up in surprise as he plops a mound of sweetness onto the baking paper, and a happy grin spreads across his face at the compliment.

“Thanks, kiddo! There’s a tray in the oven already, and it’ll be done in about ten minutes if you want some!” Patton tells him as he scoops out another chunk of dough from his mixing bowl, surprisingly accurate and uniform in relation to the size of all the other cookies. Roman is tempted to swipe his finger through the bowl and steal a little bit of the uncooked treat to snack on, but his mission right now is much more important, as much as he hates to pass up some of Patton’s baking.

“Actually, I came down here for something else,” Roman says cryptically, a sly smile playing at his lips when Patton sets down the ball of dough and turns to him attentively. Before he can voice his question, Roman pulls him into a tight hug, and his smirk widens when Patton makes a little noise of confusion. The other side is soon to recover, though, and he lets out happy giggles as he throws his arms around Roman’s neck. To his surprise, Roman is soon forced to move his arms when Patton jumps up and wraps his legs around him. Roman’s little huff is drowned out by Patton’s bell-like laughter, but he can’t help chuckling anyway when the gleeful side lays a flurry of kisses on his forehead, and nose, and cheeks, and lips.

“Awe, Roman! I love you so much,” Patton swoons, shifting to cup Roman’s face in his hands, and soon Roman can taste the vague sweetness of vanilla and sugar on his tongue.

God, this is gonna suck.

Okay, listen. They’ve come a long way from the days of constant arguments, from how they used to insult and snap at each other any chance they got. Roman knows how much progress they’ve made, and he’s come to really, really love their resident emo. But although he did agree to join their relationship, he hasn’t changed in the sense that he still has a lot of trouble opening up. Accepting and returning affection, especially physical, is not something that Virgil has mastered at all. And that’s fine! His love language is just a bit different, and Roman knows he cares just as much. But goddamnit, maybe he just wants to cuddle with his favourite emo once in a while, alright?

So yeah, this is going to be difficult. And he’s likely to get slapped in the arm and pushed away. But he’s still going to try, because Virgil is the second item on the checklist, and it’d be a shame to not finish it.

There’s almost an odd sense of dread as Roman walks down the hallway, an uncertainty as he approaches Virgil’s black door. Roman almost wants to turn on his heel and run away, but he’s already here, so he might as well just follow through with it. Raising his hand up to knock is mildly nerve-wracking, but the thought of getting to embrace the anxious side is incentive enough to deliver a few swift knocks on the glossy wood.

A few moments of silence pass before Roman can hear footsteps, and then the doorknob is turning from the other side. The door opens with a soft click, and it swings open in a leisurely arc to reveal a tired-looking Virgil peeking out from behind the dark paint. He raises an eyebrow when he registers the identity of his interrupter, rubs his bleary eyes with a fist covered in his jacket sleeve, and Roman really hopes he didn’t wake the other side up. Virgil already doesn’t get enough sleep, and it really wouldn’t do for him to lose more unnecessarily.

“Princey? What’s up?” Virgil asks, voice soft and a bit hoarse, and Roman actually kind of melts a little bit where he stands. Despite his exhaustion, Virgil really does look beautiful, stormy brown eyes looking at him with a surprising amount of trust from under his bangs and hood. Not for the first time, Roman feels his throat close almost painfully in the face of the all-encompassing love that wells up inside of him. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Oh, uh, sorry if I woke you up. I just-- I wanted to give you something,” Roman stammers, a small blush spreading across his face. He didn’t realize how late it must be, if even Virgil is confused as to his conscious state, so he must have been staring at his checklist for longer than he originally thought he was. A questioning hum comes from the tired side in front of him, and there’s a second where it feels like Roman might just run away. What if Virgil gets mad and slams the door in his face? It’s not like Roman would blame him. What was he thinking, coming here this late?

“Princey, you alright? What is it?” Virgil asks, caring and concerned, and Roman breathes out shakily. He surges forward and wraps his arms around the side in front of him, squeezes gently around his huge jacket, and Virgil huffs out a surprised breath. To Roman’s shock, Virgil easily laces his fingers together around Roman’s back, knocks his head companionably against the prince’s temple with a tiny, low laugh. “What, that’s all? What were you all worked up about, you drama queen?”

Roman knows he should be offended, but right now, kissing the life out of his soft, amused boyfriend is much more important.

If Roman’s being honest, the next item on this list is one of the ones that scares him the most. It’s not that Deceit hates him, or anything, but he’s really unpredictable. Roman has had the biggest crush on him for, well, ever, and he’s never acted on it before out of fear that Deceit will laugh at him or brush him off. He’s just so cool, and awesome, and although Roman was a little uneasy about his snake features at first, he’s come to think of them as unique and beautiful.

So standing here in front of Deceit’s swirly yellow door certainly gives Roman pause, and he draws a resemblance to his encounter with Virgil a couple of days ago. Both of the ex-dark sides act similarly in that they’re very protective of their space, valuing privacy and personal freedom over much else. Although it went well with Virgil, Roman just hopes that Deceit won’t see this as encroaching on his territory.

Before Roman can even knock, Deceit’s door swings open, and the other side leans on his doorframe with crossed arms and a lazy smirk. The other side is wearing a yellow hoodie and black sweatpants in lieu of his usual ensemble, and the casual clothing suits him far more than Roman expects. His comfortable attire makes Deceit look comfortable by extension, and all Roman can see is his potential soft snake boyfriend. Wanting bubbles up in the prince’s lungs, and he opens his mouth to speak.

“Deceit! I, uh. I wanted to, uh. Give you… something. Um-- here!” Roman tries and fails to articulate his intentions, and Deceit looks even more amused than before. Roman feels a vague sense that he’s being made fun of, but Deceit isn’t like that, and it’s probably just his own uncertainty and insecurity rearing its ugly head. Roman knows his confidence is often fake, but this time he’s putting that aside to focus on the present. He just hopes he’s good enough for the snake-like side to actually want to be with him.

“Hm? And what would that be?” Deceit muses smoothly, and his snake eye glints sharply in the light. It’s ominous, sure, but Roman knows it’s also incredibly fake, just a mask to put on. He behaves like that for the sole purpose of riling people up, acts like a scary villain to push people away because he’s scared to let someone get too close and trust them with a more vulnerable part of himself; he is self-preservation, after all. Roman’s not near as oblivious as one might think, and a lot of his knowledge and ability to see through the act comes from very familiar cues in Deceit that he knows are also present in himself.

So slowly stepping forward in Deceit’s space is just as much for himself as it is for Deceit, silent solidarity in the way he gently pulls the other side into a warm hug by his tense shoulders. Said side winces, allows a single moment of transparency from being caught off guard, and it just stirs an aching inside Roman’s chest. Deceit deserves just as much affection and reassurance as the rest of them, and he deeply regrets treating him like he did when he was so quick to put labels on someone before truly getting to know them.

“I, uh. I like you, Deceit. A lot. Like, romantically. Actually, I think I love you. And It’s— it’s okay if you don’t feel the same! But I just. I dunno, I want you to know you’re not alone, y’know? I got your back, so… if you ever need help, or wanna talk or something… my door’s always open, okay?” Roman says, quiet and careful and filled with so much love, and he can feel Deceit shudder in his hold. Unsure fists come up to clench in the fabric of Roman’s prince jacket, search for the comfort and support he isn’t used to receiving, and Roman is determined to never let Deceit feel alone ever again.

“I… I like you too, Roman. Romantically. That’s.. weird to say. Romantically. Huh. Ah— thanks. I appreciate it,” Deceit stumbles out even more awkwardly than Roman expects, soft and searching, and Roman realizes he really, really overestimated Deceit’s self-comfort capabilities. Roman knows he doesn’t exactly have the best track record for self-confidence, but he’s slowly learning to believe in himself with the help of his boyfriends. Deceit just… doesn’t have that. At least, he didn’t before. Now, though, when Roman presses a short kiss to the shorter side’s cheek, when Deceit breathes out a rush of air and turns to catch Roman’s lips with his own, he isn’t going to be alone anymore.

Literally the last thing Roman expects to see when he enters Logan’s room for the first time is the logical side in a unicorn onesie watching cartoons as he drinks from a sippy cup.

For a moment, he thinks he’s dreaming, what with the way Logan turns to him with wide eyes when the door clicks closed behind him. The bespectacled side doesn’t seem scared, or irritated, or surprised, but rather overjoyed, something Roman realizes with a sinking heart that he hasn’t seen in years. A pleased grin pulls at Logan’s lips, bright eyes squinting with how elated he seems to be at Roman’s appearance. He pats excitedly at his side, beckons Roman to come sit with him, and the princely side does so with a confused, uncertain, placating smile.

When he’s close enough, Logan shifts over to Roman and plops himself in the taller side’s lap, snuggling into the broader chest with a contented sigh as he wraps sweater paw fingers around his sippy cup and the turtle plushie at his feet. It’s overwhelmingly adorable, and extremely bewildering, and Roman doesn’t understand the tender, vulnerable state his nerd seems to be in. At least he doesn’t until Logan buries his head in the crook of Roman’s neck, curls up impossibly further as he watches the children’s cartoon playing on the television out of the corner of his eye, and the nagging thought pulling at the back of Roman‘s mind finally comes to light.

Of course, how could he have forgotten? Although being in the sides’ rooms have an adverse effect on those who enter it, such as Virgil’s room causing them all to have overwhelming anxiety, the effect of the room on its owner is the opposite of their purpose. Virgil’s room calms him down, Patton’s room dampens his emotions to a more tolerable level, Roman’s own room causes him to stop having so many ideas and gives a reprieve for the constant slew of creation running through his head, and Deceit’s room causes him to only tell the truth. Although Logan’s room makes the rest of the sides more logically inclined, Roman hasn’t ever actually thought about what it does to Logan himself when he’s in there.

It makes sense, now that Roman’s considering it, because his room would have the opposite effect: it’d cause him to be illogical, right? Let him indulge in things that he doesn’t when he’s out of his room. Things like cartoons, fantasy and fiction, mindless comfort— they all would constitute as illogical, irrational, or useless things in Logan’s mind, and therefore would be heightened impulses when he’s in here. And that does make sense to an extent, but their rooms don’t affect them so much as to cause their personality to do a complete 180, so there has to be something more to this that he’s missing.

“Ro, y’like cartoons too?” Logan asks, soft and high and nothing like the way he usually speaks and articulates, and the tiny voice catches Roman incredibly off guard. He sounds… he sounds like a child. He sounds little.

Oh, that must be it! Roman remembers Thomas reading about age regression, about “littlespace” being a coping mechanism for trauma or stress. Logan would definitely be the one to retain that information, store it in the books in his room that are full of facts Thomas has learned throughout his life, so it’s no wonder this has happened. Roman theorizes that since Logan is definitely stressed out a lot having to make schedules (and remake schedules when Roman messes them up— he feels bad, but his work is important, okay?!) and try hard to help Thomas study and research things, his room must take that to the next level and puts him into a childlike mindset to offset his usual workaholic tendencies. After all, the purpose of their rooms is to help the side it’s assigned to, so if Logan’s room decided that being a kid is the thing he needs the most, then it must be true.

Roman doesn’t have any complaints. Of course he wouldn’t, because if this helps Logan and allows him to relieve stress, then Roman would support him no matter what anyway. But this is also literally the cutest thing he’s ever seen, and his small boyfriend is so trusting and sweet, and he already adores this version of his nerd.

Said nerd giggles happily along with what happens on the screen, kicks his feet up and down excitedly and gasps at the cool events portrayed in the children’s show, and Roman kinda wishes he could watch him forever. However he knows his time is limited, so Roman just wraps his arms around the side in his lap, cuddles his delighted boyfriend close, and nods along when Logan rambles on about the characters in the show. He seems excited to be able to share with someone, passionately talking in that high tone and prominent lisp about his favourite characters’ backstories, and Roman is completely enamoured with him. He can’t help but push back the hood of his onesie and press kisses to the crown of Logan’s head, soft brown hair falling easily over sparkling eyes.

It’s not exactly the kind of hug Roman was hoping to get out of this originally, but Roman finds that he loves and appreciates it just as much.

This is such a terrible idea. Roman shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be all the way at the end of the hall standing in front of the bright green door. There’s a twinkie wrapper nailed to the center, and some sort of half-dried brown sludge dripping down the side, and Roman is already starting to regret this. What was he thinking? His brother hasn’t left his room in weeks, meaning he’s probably working on some crazy, grotesque project that he’ll likely just end up destroying anyway.

But there are already four boxes checked off, glittery red marks signifying their completion, and it wouldn’t make sense to quit now. After all, there’s only one more box, one more task, and it’s probably the hardest one out of all of them. The act of coming up to a side’s door in the middle of the night is starting to become very familiar, almost boring in a way. Where’s the drama, the pizzazz, the flair? Well, then again, this is Remus, so there’s sure to be something dramatic on the way.

Roman doesn’t bother knocking, just walks right in, and he’s wholly unsurprised by the state of his brother’s bedroom. Piles of trash reside in the corners, overflows from any surface it can. There’s a stack of mannequin limbs leaning against the wall, and Roman doesn’t even want to know what that’s for. The bed looks torn up, threads in the fabric frayed and split. There are stains on the walls, words written in pencil upon the discoloured wallpaper, nearly illegible with the messy scrawl. And in the middle of all of it sits Remus, cross-legged on the floor as he stares at the carpet with a completely blank expression. It’s so empty that it almost scares Roman, like there’s nothing behind those dark eyes. And then his counterpart notices Roman’s presence, shakes himself out of his stupour, and a familiar grin spreads across his face.

“Big bro! What’cha doing here? Thought y’a didn’t like my room. Isn’t it too gross and stinky for you?” Remus laughs, flinging a randomly conjured earthworm in his direction. Roman has to jump to the side to avoid it and narrowly misses stepping in a puddle of… something. He doesn’t really want to know what it is. Despite the revulsion Roman can feel at the state of his brother’s bedroom, his worry completely tramples everything else.

“No, I— stop throwing worms at me! I’m here because… well, I wanted to check on you. You’ve been here for a long time and I wanted to— to make sure you’re okay. You’re not hurt, are you?” Roman asks, neatly stepping over an old piece of chicken smashed into the carpet, and Remus’ gaze flashes with something bitter before returning to its usual bright, chaotic state. His smile never wavers, but it feels much faker than before, shows too many teeth.

“What do… whadda’ya mean? ‘f course I’m fine! I’m… I’m just playing with bugs, see?” Remus tells him, strained and spurious, and his brows pull in as he holds up a ladybug to show Roman. The latter of the two tilts his head in concern as he lowers himself to the ground in a patch of carpet unmarred by stain or rot. He wonders if it’s intentional. “Look, I conjured it myself! I mean, it’s— it’s probably not as good as yours are, but still!”

And even as Remus’ hand is dirty, even as he resides in a chamber of violence, the way he holds the ladybug is gentle, as if the small insect is a great treasure to him. Roman doesn’t miss the way Remus swallows and looks away, hunches his shoulders as if he’s prepared to be insulted and made fun of for his creation, and the familiarity of the action mirrored in Roman’s own psyche causes nausea to well up in his throat. He has Logan to calm him down with facts and rationality, Patton to give him compliments and affection, Virgil who knows just how to distract him when he’s feeling insecure about himself and his art. Remus doesn’t have that, and Roman knows that despite how much his brother can disturb him, he deserves compliments for his work too, even if said work isn’t necessarily Roman’s taste.

“It’s a very pretty ladybug, Remus,” Roman praises softly, an unusual reassurance as he lifts the ladybug up on the tip of his own finger. The red colour is a much deeper saturation than normal, and the distinction between black and white is extremely prominent, and Roman really isn’t lying when he says that it’s a good creation. The ladybug flutters its wings in tiny movements, sits picturesquely on his fingertip as Roman smiles kindly at it and then at his brother. And the way Remus looks up in wide-eyed shock, too stunned to pretend like everything’s okay, it sends a dagger of regret deep into Roman’s heart.

“Why?” Remus whispers, brows pulled together in a way that exposes his true inner turmoil. “Why are you here? Don’t you hate me? I go against everything you represent.”

“Remus, you’re my brother! I made a promise to be your shield, and I intend to keep it,” Roman replies fiercely, protective and striving to make amends. Remus’ mouth falls open at the reminder of the pact they had formed as children, the pinky promise acting as an unbreakable vow to always keep each other safe. “You may be my opposite, but that just means we gotta have each other’s backs! You’re the sword, I’m the shield, remember?”

The ladybug on Roman’s fingers jumps off and flies away, dashing out of sight and leaving the two brothers alone on the floor again. It takes a lot of courage to put away his discomfort, to remind himself of who Remus truly is, but Roman manages to find that bravery within himself as he pulls his counterpart into a meaningful hug. He can feel how rigid Remus is, how much he’s locked his limbs up in an attempt to not jostle their positions. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate my little brother.”

Roman will make sure that his brother’s shaking grip and quiet, fleeting tears stay a secret, just between them.

216 notes · View notes

seblos · 4 years

Text

there’s not a star in heaven that we can’t reach - ch 2/10

chapter title: let’s stop swirling, and start twirling

word count: 3,351

read on ao3

Carlos now has a hall pass to miss the last 15 minutes of study hall so he can get to rehearsal early. He probably would have been allowed to leave without one, considering everyone in the cast had been excused half an hour early for costume fittings, but he has Mr. Mazzara to thank for the small yellow paper he clutched in his hand now.

Miss Jenn was already in the bomb shelter by the time he gets there, quickly typing away at her phone until she notices Carlos standing in front of her.

“Carlos, perfect, just in time!” Miss Jenn says as her phone made a fwoosh noise, confirming some order that Carlos couldn’t see. “I left the box of scripts in my office, so can you set up the desks and name cards for the read through? I’m thinking a circle for all the named roles, plus me, you, and our stage manager, and then the ensemble and the rest of tech can just be grouped together behind.”

He was about to ask why not just put everyone in a circle, but Miss Jenn had already made her way out the door towards her office. He shrugs, not caring enough to argue with her judgment. Miss Jenn knew what she wanted; he might as well follow her agenda.

Carlos arranges the desks the way she had asked, then quickly slides over the top of one as he begins putting down the name cards for everyone. He starts with his own choreography card (keeping a mental reminder to take a photo with it later) then director, stage manager, Chad, Troy, Gabriella, and Taylor.

The next card stops him though. Carlos reads over the neat printed “Sharpay” as the conversations he had with Seb from auditions washed over him, warming his heart.

He glances over at the desk he had left off on, almost directly across from where he was sitting. Instead of putting it there, though, he bit his lip and turns, dropping the card on the desk next to his instead.

With that, he kept going around the circle acting as if nothing happened. He makes sure to put the Ryan card next to Sharpay just in case anyone decides to ask why Seb was all the way on the other side of the circle from the other leads. Miss Jenn came back in a few minutes later with the box full of scripts.

“Oh that looks perfect!” she tells him, looking at the arrangement. Carlos sucks in a breath, expecting her to say something about the out of place Sharpay name card, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

The theatre kids begin filing through the door just as the bell rang for school to end as Carlos swipes through the few notifications on his phone as Miss Jenn calls for everyone to take their assigned seats. Nothing important, just a new post from Ashley Tisdale on Instagram, a few new twitter followers (he was surprised to see EJ Caswell was one of them) and-

Carlos groans, showing Miss Jenn the text he had gotten from Natalie.

“Who is Natalie Bagley and why do I care if her glands are swollen?” she asks.

“Our stage manager. Guess she’s not coming,” Carlos says, switching off his phone.

Miss Jenn immediately called out Ricky’s friend, Big Red, and asked him to read the stage directions. Part of Carlos is upset that she didn’t just ask him to do stage directions since it wasn’t like he had any lines to read, but it was fine. They needed more tech kids anyway, maybe this would convince him to join backstage.

Or so he thought, considering the next near-hour and half was spent painfully listening to Big Red read the stage directions. Carlos at one point had shot Miss Jenn a pointed look, who looked stressed out of her mind as she asked him to read the punctuation. Unfortunately, Big Red had taken that seriously, and no one had the heart (or the energy) to correct him after he started reading “Sharpay comma heads for class period.” This, plus Carlos’s ADHD made him feel like he needs to take a lap around the school. Maybe around all of Salt Lake City before he’s ready to come back to this.

Instead, he chooses to glance over at Seb to his left, who looks just as spaced out as everyone else did. An idea pops into Carlos’s brain, and he quickly scribbles down an SOS on the blank sheet of paper he had been using to take choreo notes (in which there were none, yet. He couldn’t focus like this anyway.) He then folds up the note and tries to make eye contact with Seb.

Unfortunately, the farm boy was still spaced out as ever, staring at the pages which he turned while everyone else did, although his eyes weren’t moving along the words.

The universe decides to apparently help him out, though as while Carlos was trying to get Seb’s attention, he doesn’t notice his pencil rolling off the table until it was too late. It clattered on the floor, not catching the attention of anyone except for the boy sitting next to him.

Seb breaks from his trance, reaching down to grab the pencil before handing it to Carlos with a grin, and Carlos uses it as his shot to quickly hand the boy the note as he takes his pen back.

He takes the piece of paper in surprise, cocking his head at Carlos for a moment as he unfolds the paper as quietly as possible. For a moment, Carlos wonders if it had been a bad idea.

Until, Seb reads the note and a smile grew on his face, grabbing a pen from his backpack nonchalantly so he wasn’t writing back in highlighter. Carlos noted that it was cow print and wrote in shimmery light blue ink, which, aw.

He passes it back a moment later, and Carlos grins as he reads the response. Underneath his SOS in round, loopy writing is Seb’s bubbly ikr? big red is the sweetest but this plus my adhd my brain is GONE.

Carlos grins when he reads it. He didn’t know Seb had ADHD too (it’s not exactly something he advertises either, to be fair) but it’s always nice to see someone who can relate. He quickly scribbles back same! im all for new tech kids but i think miss jenn should just let me read from here on out. and i hate reading out loud. (and i have adhd too, crazy lol)

He passes it back to Seb, who’s brow furrows he writes, passing it back a moment later. It now reads she really should. why didnt she? i mean, youre capable of anything, even reading out loud. (and that’s cool! i mean, not cool, but cool that you can relate :) )

Carlos smiles. It’s sweet that Seb thinks that about him. He writes not sure. perks of being the unpaid choreographer i guess.

When Seb gets it back this time, he smiles. well, someone should pay you then. btw have you done the chem hw yet? mr mazzara is killing me

They continue passing the paper back and forth, veering off topic from the show and just talking about school and their families. It’s never been this easy for him to make friends, but something just seems right when he’s talking to Seb, even if its through a piece of paper.

They end up covering the paper, only pausing when Seb has to read lines. They have to move onto the back at one point before Big Red finally reads the last sentence of Act I, and Miss Jenn calls for a break. Carlos is about to scootch his desk closer to Seb’s when Miss Jenn gestures for him to come talk to her. He shoots Seb an apologetic look, who just waves him off with a smile before adjusting his jacket and instead moves to talk to Ashlyn, who looks surprised when he drops down in the seat next to her.

As he follows Miss Jenn over to a corner of the bomb shelter, he worries for a second that she’s going to call him out for not only not paying attention to the script but distracting one of the leads in the process. Thankfully, it seems she didn’t notice and instead starts asking about Ricky and Nini. (As if Carlos has any idea what’s going on between them. Again, hetero drama that he doesn’t completely care about.)

“Should we think about recasting?” Carlos offers.

“Absolutely not, my instincts are impeccable.” Miss Jenn replies, then adds, “and I’m not scared of a challenge.”

“This one might be impossible. She won’t even look at him.”

“Don’t underestimate me. I come from strong stock. My mother bounced back from an autopsy.”

Okay, not the reply he was expecting, but Miss Jenn was already calling them back together, which meant another hour of listening to Big Red read Act II.

When he sits down, though, Seb smiles at him again, and Carlos pulls back out the paper.

—

Carlos was packing up his backpack after they ended early rehearsal that day. Ricky stormed off, and maybe it wasn’t necessarily Carlos’s fault that he was quitting the show, but he could feel his chest getting tighter the more he tried to ignore it. If he had just pushed Ricky a little less or cut all the dance talk and tried just a little harder to get him to stay, they wouldn’t be in this mess.

“Hey, do you need a ride home?” Carlos hears footsteps approaching. He hadn’t realized that anyone was still in the bomb shelter, but when he turned around Seb was standing there. They had talked before rehearsal and in classes, but during rehearsal, Carlos was barely able to spare a glance at the boy playing piano while he tried to teach choreography. Not that rehearsal was about interacting anyway.

“Don’t you live on a farm?” Carlos asks, even though he knows the answer. It’s more of a question of why are you offering a ride if you live so far away?

“Yeah, but don’t worry! Your house is on the way!”

Carlos squints at him, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. “You don’t even know where I live.”

“No, but I’m sure it’s on the way,” Seb is grinning at him, and Carlos doesn’t want to say no. Besides, he told his mom they would be done at six, and it’s barely even 5 o’clock, so he nods.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. That would be good,” Carlos returns the smile and Seb beams. He finishes zipping up his backpack, swings it around his shoulders as Seb finishes sending a message on his phone, and the two walk out the door of the bomb shelter together.

“By the way, I like your shoes,” Seb says without even looking down, and Carlos feels the slightest bit of heat rushing to his face. The shoes in question are cow print, and even though he bought them before his conversation with Seb at the read through, he did think of the boy this morning when he put them on.

“Thank you,” Carlos says. He’s quiet for a moment, before asking “how are you so happy all the time?”

Seb looks surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re always so smiley and nice, even when everything is crazy stressful, like right now. I feel like I’m just snapping and brushing people off.”

“Well, first of all, you’re definitely more stressed than me,” Seb says, turning his head towards Carlos as he speaks. “I barely played today, considering how much everyone has been arguing with you about the moves. I mean, just because Miss Jenn isn’t there all the time doesn’t immediately give them the right not to listen to you.”

“I think it’s that, plus being an underclassman,” he sighs, pushing open the doors to the main entrance of the school. “I mean, Gina respects me but she isn’t exactly the friendliest with everyone right now either.”

“Well, it’s not fair of them,” Seb says, and Carlos bites his lip. He already knew deep down what Seb had said was true, but just hearing someone say it out loud made it so much more real.

When Carlos doesn’t say anything else, Seb continues. “Besides, it sort of seemed like you weren’t having the greatest time, so I was hoping if I was a little happier, you would be too. Is that stupid?” he asks.

“No, it’s not stupid. It helped. Thanks,” Carlos smiles, because it did genuinely help. Well, either that or the venting.

Seb smiles again, and Carlos feels his heart flutter just a little bit. Something about Seb’s smiles always made him feel warm. They never feel fake, and they’re always just as bright as the last.

They stop in front of a car, and Carlos opens the door to the back while Seb goes to the front seat. Behind the wheel is a girl a few years older than them who he presumes is Seb’s sister.

“Carlos, this is my sister, Georgie,” he introduces, and the girl turns to smile at Carlos. She has the same blonde hair and blue eyes as Seb.

“Nice to meet you, Carlos,” Georgie says. “Seb texted saying you need a ride, so where am I going?”

For the most part, the car ride is silent. There’s music playing, a mix of old 2010’s pop and musical theatre, and Carlos can’t tell who’s playlist it is as both Seb and Georgie sing along. It’s not uncomfortable though, and he smiles as he watches the two of them together. He only has step siblings, and he’s not nearly as close to any of them as Seb is.

“Do you have other siblings?” he asks out of nowhere, and both Seb and Georgie laugh.

“Too many to keep track of,” Seb shakes his head. “I’m a middle child of seven.”

Carlos’s eyes widen. “Seven? And they’re all fully blood related to you?”

“Yep. four sisters, two brothers. Josephine is the oldest, then our brother Cohyn, then Georgie, then me, then Sophia, Paisley, and Isaac. We’re all two years apart, starting at 21 with Josie, except for Isaac who’s 5 and was a bit of a surprise,” Seb explains, and Carlos feels his head spinning.

“How do you remember all that?” he asks, causing both the Matthew-Smith’s to laugh again.

“Years of practice. To be fair, I don’t know like, half of their birthdays,” Seb says, earning a punch in the arm from his sister.

“Do you have any siblings, Carlos?” she asks.

“Two stepsisters on my mom’s side, both older. Isabella and Victoria,” Carlos says. “Isa is in college and Vic is about to graduate, but she goes to West High. I have a lot of cousins though, which are basically my siblings.”

“Us too,” Seb smiles softly. Carlos is expecting the look that people give him when they realize his parents aren’t divorced, but there’s no change in his expression. It’s nice to not have people ask about it for once (not that he remembers a time before they were divorced anyway. He was three, it doesn’t really affect him anymore.)

Georgie pulls into the driveway of Carlos’s house, and Carlos opens the door.

“Thank you for the ride,” he says.

“Anytime, Los.” The nickname hits Carlos harder than he’s expecting it to, and he stops for a second, registering it into the mind as his heart swells. Only family members had ever used that nickname on him before, and hearing Seb use it felt… different. But good different.

“See you tomorrow,” he says, closing the door and waving goodbye to the two before running up the steps to his house. He can see them driving away as he closes the door.

“You’re home early,” his mother steps out from the kitchen, and Carlos turns.

“We ended early. Sort of a dramatic day.”

His mother laughs. “Always is in theatre,” and Carlos can’t help but laugh too. “How did you get home? You could have texted.”

“A… friend gave me a ride. Seb Matthew-Smith, he’s our accompanist and he’s playing Sharpay.”

He can see a twinkle in his mother’s eye as she nods. “Got it,” she says, stretching it out as she gives him a look.

“Not like that, mamá, just a friend,” he rolls his eyes with a smile.

“Well, I’m glad you’re making friends. Dinner will be ready in an hour, I’m going out to play bunco tonight, so make sure you and Victoria clean up,” she tells him, and Carlos nods, taking that as his cue to go upstairs.

As he reaches his bedroom, though, his phone dings with a text from Seb (they had swapped numbers at the end of the readthrough) about the chemistry homework. Carlos sets down his backpack, pulling out the homework in question, and sets it on his desk while he texts back.

His mother’s voice rings in his head. I’m glad you’re making friends. It’s the first time in a while that he’s had a close friend, and it fills his chest with warmth.

—

“Where do you sit during lunch?” Seb asks Carlos out of nowhere, plopping down on the seat next to him during study hall. He’s in the library, researching other school’s performances of High School Musical so he can try and get inspiration for their show. When Seb sits down, though, he pulls out an earbud.

“I mean, here, usually,” Carlos glances around the library. “Why do you ask?”

Seb shrugs. “Dunno, I’ve never seen you at lunch before and I was wondering who you sit with. I thought we might be in different periods, but we have gym and chem together sixth and seventh, and you mentioned to me yesterday that you have algebra fourth, so the only option left was fifth unless you take an extra class like some kinda psycho.”

Carlos blinks. “You kept track of all of that?” he asks.

Seb suddenly blushes slightly. “I mean, I don’t know the rest of your schedule, I was only really paying attention because like I said, I was wondering who you sit with. But I guess you sit with… no one…?” he trails off.

Now it’s Carlos’s turn to blush. “I mean, my mom plays bunco with the librarian so she always let me sit in here. The only other person I really talk to is Gina, but she has seventh period lunch. And I guess I could eat in Miss Jenn’s office, but sometimes she stresses me out and I can watch videos in here. Plus it’s a lot quieter than the cafeteria, although I did run into Ricky today-”

Seb cuts him off. “Would you want to sit with me and Natalie? It’s only us at our table.”

“I- uh. Yeah. Sure,” Carlos says.

Seb nods with a smile. “Okay, cool,” he says, then turns in his seat and logs into the computer next to Carlos.

“Why do you keep inviting me to things?” Carlos asks suddenly, gnawing on his lip.

Seb turns back to face Carlos again. “What do you mean?”

“You offered to drive me home, now you’re inviting me to sit with you at lunch.”

He cocks his head, smiling, although still clearly confused. “Because we’re friends, dummy,” he tells Carlos.

“Oh,” Carlos smiles. “Okay. Cool.”

Seb nods. “Cool.”

They both go back to doing their work silently until Seb turns around again.

“Did you say you saw Ricky in here?” he asks.

“Yes! You’ll never believe what he did.”

“What?” “He told me he’s joining the show again! And then, he started dancing. Like, in the middle of the walkway!” They both laugh.

As Carlos continues filling Seb in on all the details of his previous conversation with Ricky, he can feel his heart fluttering. He doesn’t know what is with the other boy in the long run, but hey, at least they’re friends.

#seblos #carlos rodriguez #seb matthew smith #hsmtmts #high school musical the musical the series #my writing #not a star

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razberryyum · 5 years

Video

The Untamed/陈情令 Rewatch, Episode 6, Part 2 of 2

(spoilers for everything MDZS/Untamed)

[covers MDZS chapter 18 and a bit of chaps 56 and 66]

WangXian meter: 🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

Continued from Part 1:

Again, bless Big Bro Xichen for being such a diligent matchmaker for his little brother and suggesting the cold springs to Wei Ying. I think I just about freaked out the first time I saw the bathing scene: not having read the novel yet at the time, I was totally caught off guard by it and I just couldn’t believe what was happening. Of course now, in retrospect, it’s really pretty tame, considering they were supposed to be naked (BLESS the donghua for keeping that detail in). However, what the drama lacked in nudity it definitely more than made up for in character development and relationship building by adding the subsequent sequence in the cave. Aside from the cute marriage reference (kneeling and bowing before ancestor), ALL of Lan Zhan’s fears for Wei Ying were basically BORN in that cave, thanks to Lan Yi and Xue Chonghai’s backstories involving the yin metal (which was also an invention of the show since in the book it was only the Stygian Tiger Seal). He probably regarded their unfortunate fates as cautionary tales at first, but then as soon as he thought Wei Ying was treading their same path to darkness, their stories instantly became all too real possibilities for Wei Ying’s future. Just thinking about how afraid Lan Zhan must’ve been for Wei Ying makes my heart hurt, and what makes things worse is that in the end, he shared a more similar fate with Xue Chonghai than Lan Yi. Even though she spent the rest of her life and beyond essentially imprisoned in the cave, at least her passing was a more peaceful one and the legacy she left behind was more respectable. Unlike Xue Chonghai, who basically died a villain, which is pretty much how the cultivation world viewed Wei Ying when he died. I can’t stop thinking about how much Lan Zhan probably tortured himself emotionally during the 16 years after Wei Ying’s death, no doubt ceaselessly blaming himself for not doing enough to save Wei Ying. The fact that he was already presented with these two examples of what could happen to those overpowered by the yin metals so early on in their relationship probably only served to further exacerbate his sense of guilt during that decade and half.

Really, thank God Wei Ying came back. I sometimes think of the alternative and the notion is just so bleak to me that I actually start tearing up. In fact, I’m tearing up now since the thought is crossing my mind again. Damn, I need to talk about happier things pronto.

I think if Wei Ying never came along, Lan Zhan probably would’ve happily spent the rest of this life as a bachelor since, according to his own words, he shuns physical contact with others and isn’t too keen on getting married anyway. The funny thing is, I don’t really think of Lan Zhan as being gay in the traditional sense either because I simply can’t see him being attracted to anyone else other than Wei Ying. He’s really just Wei Ying-sexual as far as I’m concerned. And it’s not because I’m just being a romantic, but it’s more like, I don’t see Lan Zhan as the type of person who would want to get close to anyone or even feels like he needs to be close to anyone. His familial relationships with his uncle and brother would’ve been sufficient for him; he probably considers social relationships with outsiders more of a nuisance. While he’s courteous enough to others when he needs to be, I think that’s due to upbringing rather than actual concern. And yet, despite Lan Zhan’s nature, Wei Ying still found a way to permanently wedge himself into his life and get close to him. I really appreciate the time and care the live action took to show us just how Wei Ying did that by creating events like their drunkapades from the night before and now their shared experience in the cave. In the novel it was definitely more subtle.

I mean, do I really need to say anything about this other than I love? Especially how the camera kept on focusing on the ribbon, as if they were worried we would forget about it if they cut away too soon. Of course it’s utterly sweet of Lan Zhan to so quickly and easily give up his ribbon to protect Wei Ying. He didn’t even think twice, despite how significant the ribbon is to him. I still don’t think this is the point where he fell in love yet, but at least he’s starting to care enough about the other man to not want him to perish by Chord Assassination.

Wei Ying was definitely happy about it, look at that big smile.

Meanwhile, other ships were launching

I seriously cannot believe that Jin Zixuan still wanted to call off the wedding to Shijie after they shared THIS totally romantic moment. He was obviously a little smitten already, so what the hell was he thinking? Shijie is so beautiful and sweet and just awesome. Should’ve been love at first sight, and yet he still had the heart to try to dump her after this. Dumbass.

I pretty much was on board with this ship as soon as Lan Yi mentioned Baoshan Sanren and their close relationship. Seeing them together only further reinforced my commitment. Of course I find it utterly sad that they didn’t have a happy ending together, though I do wonder why Baoshan Sanren didn’t try to seek out Lan Yi again afterwards. Was she just so disappointed in Lan Yi for not heeding her warning that she simply didn’t want to ever see her again? That’s equally heart-breaking. Or maybe, by the time she decided to turn back and help Lan Yi, it was already too late: her corporeal form had already dissipated because of the Yin metal and she was nothing but a spirit trapped in that cave. Perhaps that’s why Baoshan decided to become a hermit and wander the world alone. That’s somehow even worst. Truly, they are what Lan Zhan and Wei Ying could’ve been if Lan Zhan had given up on him as soon as he acquired his powers at the Burial Mounds. I wish we could get some kind of prequel for Lan Yi and Baoshan Sanren, like as a special, since there is definitely a moving love story to be found there, despite its sad ending. It would have to be created from nothing of course, since Lan Yi was little more than a quick name-drop in the novel. But since I love Lan Yi because she’s portrayed by Carman Lee and the actress who plays Baoshan Sanren (Liu Ting Yu) is also beautiful…

…I wanted to see more of them. Especially during the more glorious times of their careers. Hell, a whole series can be made just centered around Lan Yi alone, and how she, as the first and only female sect leader in the Gusu Lan Sect, rose to her position and the many obstacles she had to face on the way up and even afterwards, before the whole Yin metal mess even came into her life. Of course Wei Ying and Lan Zhan wouldn’t be a part of the story at all, which is a shame but understandable, but I still wish we could have that series.

Questions I still Have (mostly nitpicky crap cuz I’m annoying that way)

Is that a submarine I see on the bottom there? Or maybe it’s just a bubble maker. But seriously, what pulled Lan Zhan and Wei Ying underwater? Was it just currents? Magic? Cuz it was shot like some kind of sea monster violently tugged them underneath.

I honestly still don’t understand the geography of the cold springs. Can a mostly dry cave (save for a knee level pool) exist under the water like that? Especially when it looks to be on a lower level than the bottom of the spring? Feels…impossible. Is it all because of magic?

Only that one bunny at the top got the protective Gusu Lan head ribbon; didn’t the other bunnies beneath it deserve the same protection? Poor things.

Overall Episode Rating: 9 Lil Apples out of 10

#The Untamed #陈情令 #spoilers #WangXian #Untamed Rewatch #Mo Dao Zu Shi #CQL #MDZS #魔道祖师 #Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #Founder of Diabolism #ZiYan #Jiang Yanli #Jin Zixuan #YiBaoshan #Lan Yi #Baoshan Sanren #Wei Ying Wei Wuxian #Lan Zhan Lan Wangji

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shessweetlikecandyx · 5 years

Text

He puts the laughter in slaughter

Summary: y/n always thought her life was hard but she soon learns what the definition of hard really is when her school bus is hyjacked by the infamous Jerome Valeska

Fandom: Gotham

Pairings: Jerome Valeska x reader

Warnings: bullying, mild violence

Part 1 of 3

“Should you really be wearing that?”

Your brows furrowed together as you turned your gaze down to your outfit, a simple dark green jumper and ripped black jeans.

“Those jeans aren’t the right fit on you, they make you look big, only really skinny girls can wear them.” you looked back up only to be met with a smile.

Did she really think that what she just said was nice or helpful?

Inhaling sharply you gave a tight lipped smile “it’s fine, everyone wears this.”

She looked you up and down once more before pulling a face “come on, we better get going. You’re already late”

You let out a defeated sigh, pulling at your jumper making sure it would cover you completely, taking one last glance in the mirror you can’t help but suddenly feel like you would stick out like a sore thumb in the outfit.

“COME ON! We’re going to be late! Don’t forget to lock the door.”

Giving yourself one last up and down you began to make your way out of the house and into the car, where your mother sat impatiently.

You haven’t even buckled up your seat belt before she began again.

“Oo darling, you need to fix your face, your contour is choppy and your foundation looks really heavy.”

You clench your eyes shut, exhaling forcefully “it’s fine! God can’t you just leave me alone?”

She scoffs rolling her eyes “don’t start another argument, you always do this! I’m just trying to help, I don’t want you getting to school looking horrible”

God what you wouldn’t give to just str-

You felt your jaw clench as you forced yourself to turn towards the window, every time you opened your mouth another argument seemed to occur.

God, what you wouldn’t give to just runaway sometimes, to leave gotham and your entire family behind.

thankfully the car ride didn’t last much longer and before you know it the bell rings, signalling the start of your first lesson of the day.

You wasted no time I’m trying to find the face of your best friend y/f/n, sighing in relief when your eyes meet hers.

Surprisingly the lessons flew by, maybe it was your wandering mind, or maybe it was the fact that you felt like a ghost, floating down the halls. Either way you were glad the day was almost over.

By the time the second to last bell of the day rung you were already packing your things away, you craved your bed and the sweet bliss caused by sleep.

But alas, your luck seemed to run out as the cliché mean girl of your high school decided to intercept you on the way to the school bus.

She stood tall, immaculate posture as a sneer graced her features.

“Soo y/n I’ve heard that you’ve been talking behind my back . . . Is it true?”

She feigned a innocent confused look, but if you looked ever so slightly closer you would be able to notice the malicious glint in them, because underneath all that beauty and sweetness was empty calories and decay.

Letting out a beaten sight you tried my best to come up with some sort of apology knowing how much worse her rumours could make your life.

“Look Amelia, I don’t who’s said what but I honestly haven’t, I have better things to do than gossip about you.”

She narrowed her eyes while crossing her toned and tanned arms, her lips pouting ever so slightly.

“Look, I want to believe you, I really do but everyone knows how much you talk behind people’s back . . . “

You look towards y/f/n’s with wide eyes and exasperated, hoping that she would back you up, defend you. . . But you were met with silence as she stood looking at the ground.

You felt heat begin to seep up your neck and pool in your cheeks as you suddenly became very aware that more and more people began to surround you, pathetically acting as if they were talking not watching the scene unfold in front of them.

“Look Amelia, I’m sorry if you really think that low of me but I haven’t said a word about you, whoever told you that I’d said something either misheard or is trying to start shit . . . You’re a nice person I wouldn’t say anything mean about you.”

The words felt like poison on your tongue as you spat them out but you’ve learnt from past experiences to just back down, you didn’t have the energy to add ‘high school drama’ to your seemingly never ending list of troubles, instead you meekly resorted to backing down and waiting for the time when you left school knowing you wouldn’t have to shut your mouth.

You could tell she was about to burst with some mean retort but thankfully the last bell rung signalling the end of today’s school day and for all the cheerleaders and football players to make their way towards the school bus.

Today they had an away game at the school across Gotham, unfortunately however you were being made to go, it was as part of your detention.

It was completely uncalled for, all you’d done is gotten into school a few minutes late and now you werenbeing made to stay 3 or so hours after school as a freaking towel boy.

Oh joy!

Sarcasm. That was sarcasm.

Your eyes darted back up to meets Amelia’s, she looked like she had so much more to say but thankfully her friends pulled her away cheering as a way to get you all in the spirit.

Although you could tell this was far away from being over as before she disappeared into the bus with all her team mates she shot you a look that said this isn’t over, watch your back because I’m coming for you.

You side glanced towards y/f/n shaking your head in disbelief before hurrying towards the bus that was about to leave.

This day couldn’t get any worse, you never craved the comfort of your bed, surrounded in an abundance of fluffy blackets and pillows.

Getting on the bus, you wasted no time in making yourself scarce as you immediately headed for the seat furthest away from Amelia and anyone else that would try and corner you.

It took you by no surprise when no one sat next to you, everyone apart from the odd person seemed to take a deep disliking towards you without even spending the time trying to get to know you.

Shoving your headphones in you couldn’t help but survey the bus, it was safe to say you hated everyone in it.

Their actions towards you made something deep within you start to decay as you suddenly didn’t see why wanting to watch them all burn was so morally bad.

The day seemed to drag on as you begrudgingly watched the game, it was an incredibly tiresome experience, watching some sweaty guys running around a field while the girls in slutty short skirts and crop tops two sizes too small pranced around shouting out simple rhymes with the occasional pretentious high kick.

Plus it didn’t help how each time you had to hand them a towel they looked at you with such smugness I couldn’t help but imagine myself leaping over the table and tearing their throats out . . . With your teeth.

You felt as though you were incredibly close to pulling your hair out when it took about twenty minutes for everyone to pile back into the godforsaken bus.

You swore the only thing that kept you even slightly sane was the music you had been blaring since the start of this horrid journey, these days it seemed to be your only escap-

Your eyes shot open as the bus came to a holt.

It’d only been 10 minutes, there was no way you could’ve arrive back at school, could you?

Unfortunately your question was answered the minute you saw a flash of red hair outside.

Anxiety began bubbling in your stomach as you hastily look around only to be met with eyes full of the same thing that were in yours. Fear.

you felt your heart leap into your throat as you peaked out the window and saw a handful of men all holding guns, crazed looks in their eyes.

Your breathes came out in short, sharp pants as you balled your hands up, gripping your jeans.

You continued to dart your eyes around the bus helplessly, hot salty tears running down your already flushed cheeks.

This all seemed so much like some prolonged nightmare but you knew better.

Because this was Gotham and one way or another you somehow always end up dying at the hands of another.

#jerome valeska #jerome valeska smut #jerome valeska imagine #jerome valeska fluff #gotham #gotham imagine #gotham smut #jim gordon #bruce wayne #bat man #the joker #joker #joker smut #joker imagine #joker fluff

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mystic-kitten-writer · 5 years

Text

Limerence [M] ︳13

Pairing: Zuko x OC

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with future smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 5100+

Notes: I hope you guys enjoy the chapter - stay healthy everyone~!

Masterlist ︳12 ︳ 14

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.

The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

Éperdument Amoureux

(French) Madly in love.

~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

“And what do you expect me to do with-with this!” hissed Lia as she stared at my chest. My cheeks flushed as I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water. I knew the love bites were bad, but not this bad.

They were light in colour, small, and I dare say it; cute - yesterday. But how was I supposed to know that overnight that was going to change? That the sweet kisses of affection were going to be enormous, bleeding into each other, and pulsing angrily along my skin. Lia slapped her cheeks together as she tried her hardest to think of something, anything, at this point. “You do know the party is in four days, your party, Imperial Consort Ying Yue.” She said, with a frown, and with a great emphasis on the ‘your party’ part. But not even her scowl hid the hint of amusement in her voice.

I pouted - she was right. At the end of this week, I was set to make my official ‘debut’ as Imperial Consort to the public, before the arrival of the Earth King. Afterward, a small party with some nobles and council members was set to take place in the gardens. Hell, I was also expected to get another ‘official’ seal; as if the large marble brick Zuko gave me wasn’t enough.

“He better have been good – although based on these marks and rumours, it appears so…” Lia said with a grin as she sheepishly poked at my chest. The blush that was just starting to disappear quickly found its way back, rumours?

“W-what do you mean by rumours?” I asked. Lia clicked her tongue at my naiveness, “The servants here gossip honey, and the guards said that based on the sounds you were making, seems like Fire Lord Zuko knows exactly what he is doing.” The devilish smile on Lia only grew as I whinnied out in embarrassment. The Guards outside his room...They heard everything!

“Excuse me while I go drown myself!” I said with a huff, but Lia snickered.

“Can a Waterbender even drown?”

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll give you an answer.”

Lia snorted in laughter while I threw my hands in the air, “This isn’t funny! Is there anything I can do to-to, I don’t know, make them go away?”

“Just for Fire Lord Zuko to do it all over again?” Lia said tauntingly. And the worst part, she was right. I bit lip to push away the creeping desires that were starting to bubble up again and made my skin feel all tingly. Memories of my restless night were sneaking back. I didn’t sleep a wink, and whenever I did manage to drift off the slightest, the dreams I was having were not for the innocent. I took two baths during the night – TWO, anything to cool down my hormones. What was I, sixteen again?

“Please Lia, don’t you have anything? A cream or spray?” I begged. Anything to make these hickies seem less…‘hickish.’ Sokka already gave me and Zuko a ‘talk’ for hours; he is going to have a stroke if he sees these! Lia rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah, let me just pull out some magical potion from underneath my skirt.”

“Really!?”

“NO! GOSH. Let me ask around if someone has any tips or tricks. I’ll try something out tonight before you go to bed.” I engulfed Lia in an embrace, “Thank you! You’re my lifesaver!” I squealed into her hair. Lia laughed and hugged me back. “Now, I’m leaving, and don’t forget to meet Kiyi in the garden; she’s probably waiting for you as we speak.” I smiled and nodded, watching Lia balance a tray of empty teacups and finished snacks. Just before she walked out the door she looked over her shoulder, a playful smile dancing on her lips, “Also, don’t forget to lift your dress, the last thing we need is Fire Lord Zuko waltzing in here, seeing you topless, and finishing what he started.”

Lia left with a colourful laugh and the door shut behind her. I couldn’t help but titter as I began lifting my white chiffon kimono, something that covered most of the love bites. Lia was absolutely hilarious, a lot more blunt and forthright compared to Kima, but nevertheless, a star.

I skipped over to my vanity, pushing my long braid to the side, a twist which was adorned with flowers; a special touch, courtesy of Lia. I grabbed the nearest lip-gloss, the only form of makeup I wore since arriving. It was too hot to wear clothing, let alone makeup. This heat really is on a whole other level, Zuko and Suki weren’t joking when they said ‘hot.’

I could hear the door once again opening and closing, footsteps shuffling and I grinned, “Lia~, what did you forget in here now?” I said with a giggle as I turned around in my seat and stood up. But the giant grin on my face vanished when I realized it wasn’t Lia. My face froze, and a cold shiver ran down my spine. It was like my body became rigid, as I desperately clung to the sides of my dress. All the fear that I thought I had put away and forgotten suddenly came crashing back like a tidal wave. It was her, the lady from yesterday, the lady I saw outside of Zuko’s room.

“My apologies, I didn’t know anyone was going to be in here.”

Her words felt hollow, ungenuine, insensitive. Was she…taunting me? I grimaced as she pushed her hair behind her shoulders, making sure her appearance looked perfect, not a single hair out of place. A profound, sinking feeling weighted heavily on my stomach; I feel like I'm going to be sick.

“Despite the surprise, pleasure to meet you…Ying Yue.” She spoke once again, with a smile plastered on her fair skin. My eyes narrowed as I watched her. The way her lips curved upwards, it wasn’t a smile. No…it was a smirk. It was like she knew what she was doing — the way her eyes observed me like I was prey. Once my eyes finally meet with her, I could feel another wave of nausea wash over me.

Her eyes. They’re just like Zuko’s, how... The way her golden eyes flickered in the sunlight to brilliant gold, only Zuko’s eyes shimmers like that. Yet, no matter how alike they were, they lacked one crucial thing; warmth. One look from Zuko filled me up with such warmth and contentment; as if all my problems were suddenly gone. But her eyes - they felt like death. Like I was looking into a soulless being.

“Who are you; what’s your name,” I said firmly. My lips tightly pressed together as I eyed her up and down. She wore nothing more than a plain red dress, free of any accessories. She hummed softly as she placed her hands together, her long nails making a ticking sound, “I wouldn’t want to bore you with my name. I'm just a humble maid; here to check your room.” She said with a forced smile. A maid. It would have made sense after all. Why am I overreacting? It’s not like she is some sort of criminal. But the uneasiness didn’t leave.

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you, although I'll admit, I'm quite surprised…” she started as she took a few steps forward. Without thinking twice, I began stepping backward, my mind screaming at me to maintain a distance. “Surprised?” I asked, trying to act natural, engage in her stupid small talk. She tilted her head, her eyes never leaving mine. “You see, I lived at the palace. One could say, I’ve known Fire Lord Zuko my whole life.”

“Lived here your whole life?” I asked once again, trying to understand her words. Every sentence of hers seemed to bring more questions than answers. She was speaking in circles. “My parents use to work in the palace, lived here for most of their lives. It was only natural I was raised here, expected to take after them. Unfortunately, a few…unforeseen circumstances halted my rise in ranking. But I'm here now, to take my rightful place.” I nodded, listening to her words, they were laced with another meaning. I bit my lip as I frustratingly tried to decipher her words. A double edge sword, that’s what her words felt like.

“What does that have to do with Fire Lord Zuko?” I asked bluntly. She raised her brows in enjoyment, before placing her hands on her hips, “Ah, it's just that I never thought Fire Lord Zuko was much of a…romantic. Breaking up with his long-term girlfriend, only to bring along another woman from the Southern Water Tribe…may I ask, what was a Firebender doing in the Southern Water Tribe?”

“I'm not a Firebender,” I said sharply.

“Oh, no? So you must be a nonbender then…how amusing.”

“You could say that…” I ended carefully. The fact that I was a Waterbender was a secret. A massive secret that was meant to stay that way until Zuko figured something out. The only people who knew of my Waterbending skills were the gang and Zuko’s family. While it proved to be difficult given a few maids saw me Waterbend during out little ‘fight,’ they were written off as rumours. Everyone knew that if the council found out that I was a Waterbender, all hell would break loose. Gosh, Zuko could lose everything – all because of my Waterbending, I could never hurt him like that.

“Seems like Fire Lord Zuko has a thing for nonbenders then, although at least Countess Mai could defend herself, unlike you…” She muttered under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear. My frown deepened in annoyance, did she just indirectly say I was weak? I don’t know who she is, but for a maid, she really is overstepping her boundaries.

“With all due respect, I do not require your services here; I have my maid to overlook such duties. So you may leave.” I said abruptly. Her eyes widen in disbelief, most likely taken aback by my tone. But I straightened out my back and stepped forward, did everyone in the palace view me as weak? Just some arm candy for Zuko? I could feel my blood begin to boil.

I was sweet and kind - and it would be a mistake to view my kindness as a weakness. No one knew the shit I went through after my parents died. The things I had to do to survive when I was alone; before I found my new family and friends. It was an aspect of my life I preferred to hide away, as it was also those experiences that led me to refrain from bending. But to call me weak? I could feel my breathing deepen as I tried to control my irritation. My hands turned into fists, “Leave, now.”

She looked at me before she gave me a low bow, “Whatever you wish, Ying Yue.”

“Imperial Consort Ying Yue,” I said sneered.

“My apologizies…goodbye Imperial Consort Ying Yue, till next time.” She snickered before she opened the door and began stepping out. But before she left, she gave me one more look. It was as if she was studying me, observing every movement of mine. With one more devilish smile, she closed the door behind her.

Finally - I gasped as I felt myself breathing once again. She was petrifying. Everything about her screamed ‘danger.’ Was it normal to feel this way? She is just a maid, an impolite and spiteful maid who managed to crawl under my skin. I slapped my cheeks and with one more deep breath rushed over to my vanity to grab the snacks and turtle duck food Lia left for me to bring.

Kiyi is probably waiting for me, and I eagerly dashed through the door, making sure I locked it beforehand. I needed a distraction, a distraction away from that ill-advised maid who made me feel disturbed. Maybe I should tell Zuko…no; he already has so much on his plate, why bother him with such trivial matters? She just a maid, it’s not like she would try to hurt me, or better yet kill me…right?

I smiled watching Kiyi hunched over her book ‘Animals of the Southern Water Tribe.’ Her eyes were like giant saucers, as she gazed over the images and words with fascination. The way her fingers followed the words made me proud; I picked an excellent gift for her. Zuko told me about her passion for animals, and I figured if she was as curious as me, a book about animals other than the Fire Nation would be enthralling. And I was right.

“Kiyi, my little button~!” I chirped as I swung around our snacks and turtle ducks food. Her eyes lit up in glee when she spotted me walking along the path. She shut her book, placing it down on the grass, before dashing towards me. “YUE! I was waiting here, what took you so long?” she sang as she swung her arms around my waist and gave me a tight embrace. I smiled and gently kissed her forehead, “Sorry I took long, button. I had a …unexpected visitor. But I brought some snacks.” She pulled away and beamed as she grabbed the snacks.

“YAY, we can feed the babies now!” She said animatedly as she tugged my hand towards the large pool of water. I remember how Zuko said I was going to be impressed by the gardens, and boy, was he right.

The main garden was absolutely jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Ancient cherry blossom trees painted the endless fields of grass, providing one with ample shade to rest, read a book, or just think. The pink blossoms scattered in the gentle breezes on top of the grounds and the lush bushes and shrubs that were planted about. But the flowers, I sighed contently just looking at them. The flowers were all vibrant in colours, mainly of reds and yellows; at one point I pinched myself because I thought I was dreaming, that was how surreal the garden was. I could only imagine how much effort went into maintaining the gardens.

I breathed in deeply, smelling the fresh water and flowers. Sounds of water crashing caught my attention, and I knew we were here. To say it was a pond, was an understatement. We stood at the pool of water that gathered at the end of the waterfall. The water near our feet just calm enough for the turtle ducks to contently swim about. The sounds of water cascading downward was just pleasant background noise to the creatures.

As if the admiration was evident on my face Kiyi giggled, “Zuzu built it.” I titled my head in confusion, as we sat along the edge, letting our bare feet dangle in the still waters. “Zuko build a…waterfall?” I said a tad bit in disbelief as I looked upwards. The waterfall was huge, like, enormous. But another part of me realized - Are you really amazed? The man is Fire Lord; he could do whatever he wanted; he has the power and resources for it.

Kiyi grinned happily as she began breaking the food into smaller pieces for the baby turtle ducks. They already started swimming towards us, squawking away in anticipation for food, just like Appa and Momo.

“Yup, Zuzu did this. Zuzu told me how when he was little, mommy use to feed turtle ducks with him. So for her birthday, he rebuilt the pond to a large waterfall so that more turtle ducks could live here.” I smiled as I gazed upon the waterfall, Zuko really did love his family. Was there anything he wouldn’t do for them?

“Toph helped Zuzu build it. I like her; she is messy and strong.” I grinned, connecting the dots. Of course, Toph helped Zuko out. Any chance for her to move boulders around to show off her bending was an opportunity she was never going to let pass by. It was just up her alley too, and knowing her, it probably took her mere seconds to build such a thing. The garden backed into a large mountain; therefore, the water could naturally cascade downwards, into the large pond where we swung our feet into. It was more of a question as to why the lake was never a waterfall, to begin with.

Gentle pinches on my toes caught my attention, as I gazed down. A baby turtle duck was nipping away on my toes, and Kiyi giggled, “They're hungry, feed them, or else they're going to eat your toes!” I laughed along and began throwing food into the pond. Within seconds they all started swarming the food, trying to eat as much as they could, but they often missed. They’re so cute!

Kiyi laughed childishly as we kept throwing food inside of the water. Kiyi really was a sweetheart, a bit curious like myself, and feisty. Her laugh was loveable, and seeing her smile made me realize why people wanted kids. There was just something about watching a child happy, something that brought out another side of me that I didn’t even know existed - the need to protect her as if she was my own. Her short brown bob swayed with every throw, and her brown eyes sparkled. She didn’t have the same gold eyes as Zuko, but she did have the same nose and eye shape as him. Down to the cute little dimple they both had when they smiled.

Just watching over Kiyi made me think about yesterday and the vase of flowers on his nightstand from her. Would Zuko ever want to start a family of his own? Have kids…I wonder how many kids he would want… I smiled to myself. Knowing him, he would want one; he seems like the type of dad who would pour all his heart and soul into his kid, make sure they had everything they could have ever wanted. His wife would be lucky….did I want to be his wife? I blushed; Yue. You're getting ahead of yourself.

“Uh-oh! YUE, the snacks!”

My eyes widen as I watched Kiyi stand up panicked. I gazed at the water and realized that the snacks that were meant for us were floating away, going deeper and deeper in the pond. The turtle ducks were quick and started following the bag, nipping at it, wanting a taste of the new treats. Kiyi already stood in the water, trying to run after the bag, but I swiftly grabbed her arm before she got in too deep, “NO KIYI!” I shouted as I pulled her back.

She looked upwards at me startled. “B-but the turtle ducks! They can’t eat our food; it will hurt their tummies!” she cried out, her bottom lip trembling. I let go of my grip and gently patted her head, “I’ll grab it; I don’t want you to slip in the water and make a mess of yourself.” I said as I stood up. Kiyi frowned but nodded as she sat back down on the shore.

I quickly began grabbing my dress, rolling it up from the top to not get it wet. How did it even manage to get into the water? I carefully moved forward, my feet already fully submerged into the water. I could feel the slimy rocks and the squishy mud, I'm definitely going to have to wash my feet after this. “Be careful Yue!” Kiyi cried out as I tiptoed in the water, the water rising higher and higher up my legs. How deep was this…? The cold water was already at my knees and was only getting deeper the more I moved.

The turtle ducks looked a bit startled seeing me walk in the water, as they began making noises, “Sorry babies, but you can’t eat this.” I said playfully as I bent over to reach the bag. At this point, I was already waist deep in. The things I do for Kiyi. I grunted as I tried to reach the bag, my fingertips just grazing the plastic material; the food is going to be all soggy now, just reach a little bit more…

“Zuzu!”

My eyes widen in surprise, Zuko was here?

And that, was where the mistakes all began.

I turned on my heel swiftly, my curiosity getting the better of me. But before I could process what was happening, I could feel my feet slip from underneath me, and I gasped piercingly. My stomach dropped as my body twisted and I no longer felt the nasty mud underneath me. Wha-what the fuck – my arms flapped around me like a chicken as I tried to grab something, anything.

A loud splash echoed in the gardens, and I could hear the turtle ducks swimming away with such speed that caused more ripples to slap against my face. I groaned noisily as my bum ached painfully. Great, more bruises, as if I don’t have enough already! I feverishly wiped the water off my face with filthy hands. I was neck deep in the water, sitting down on painfully jagged rocks. I can't believe I just fell in the damn water! I huffed loudly and wiped my face once again with my hands, a cold shiver running down my back. “What are you doing?”

My face whipped upwards, my braid coming apart and the beautiful flowers that Lia spent all her time placing one by one drifted along the ripples of the water. My face was beet red in embarrassment when I realized Zuko saw the whole thing. From start to finish, the performance of a lifetime. You gotta be fucking kidding me. Why me? Why does life just hate me? As if yesterday wasn't painful for me already. He probably thinks I'm the biggest clutz in history! You know, now is a great time to try out that theory if a Waterbender can drown.

Kiyi was rolling on the grass, probably gaining grass stains, as she hollered hysterically to herself with tears in her eyes. Zuko, on the other hand, stood still. An amused grin on his face as he crossed his arms across his chest, in utter disbelief. He snickered and shook his head before stepping forward, getting a good look at me, “This is going to sound ridiculous, but we do have something called a ‘pool’ where one can swim. Even hot springs.” I glared at Zuko, hearing the sarcasm dripping with every word he spoke, but I couldn’t fight off the smile that was coming through.

“Maybe she wanted to feel like one of the turtle ducks Zuzu,” Kiyi said between fits of laughter while wiping away her tears. I snickered to myself as I pushed my wet hair away from my face, “And what are you doing here Fire Lord Zuko? I thought you had some important business to attend to all day?” I said with a raised brow — anything to get the attention away from me.

Zuko chuckled to himself before kicking off his boots, “I figured I could take a break, spend some time with two of the most important women in my life. But as it turns out, instead of taking a break, I have to go fish for my consort who is currently in a pond.” My eyes widen, did he just say I was important? Who cares, focus Yue! Zuko is taking off his boots to fish you out!

“N-no, it’s fine! I’m fine. Look I can-” I stuttered as I began standing up. Zuko’s eyes widen in shock the moment I began standing in the water, my torso out of the water. He swiftly began unbuttoning his robe as he shouted, “NO. Get back in the water!”

Taken aback from his loud voice, I panicked and found myself dropping, adding to my growing collection of bruises. His face was flushed, as he stripped himself of his red robe, tossing it over his shoulder. I blushed, realizing he wore nothing underneath his gown. How is it possible I went from never seeing him shirtless, to seeing him half naked two days in a row? Zuko grumbled under his breath as he walked towards me, walking sluggishly as the water began reaching his waist. “Wh-what’s wrong? Why can’t I just get out by myself-”

“White.”

White? What does he mean by…oh shit. I'm wearing white. I flushed putting two and two together; white goes completely see-through when wet, oh my gosh – he can see right through my kimono! Why me? Why does every single mortifying moment happen to me? Zuko held out his hand, and I grasped it, letting him pull me up effortlessly. With a swift motion, he pulled my body against his, covering me with his torso. He wrapped his red robe over my shoulders, and I let my arms slip through. His robe is HUGE on me! I'm literally swimming in it – no pun attended.

“You really are going to be the death of me Yue. If Sokka sees us like this after yesterday’s mishap…” Zuko groused under his breath, but I could see the faint grin on his face as he began to button up his robe for me. “All I wanted to do was take a break. Now I spoiled my robe, my pants, and I have to take a shower…” Zuko pulled my hair out from underneath his robe before looking at me. “You drive me nuts, Yue, but I love it. There hasn’t been a single boring day with you.”

I beamed. He loves spending time with me? And he called me Yue…just Yue. Zuko gently caressed my cheek with admiration, “You called me Yue…” I whispered. Zuko’s eyes widen, a bit startled, realizing that he indeed just called me Yue. “I like it. Just call me Yue from now on…” I said softly. Zuko grinned before grasping my shoulders, “Come on, you’re going to get sick if you stay out here.” I smiled, but out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kiyi.

Her eyes were wide, as she waved frantically to catch my attention. My eyebrows furrowed, as she made a ‘pushing’ motion. What in the world is she trying to… ‘ZUZU’ she mouthed over and over again. Zuzu? My eyes widen, and I realized what she was implying. Kiyi, you little devil.

I grinned mischievously, and Zuko looked at me questioningly. “What are you smiling about?” Zuko said hesitantly, as he watched the way my eyes lit up. I batted my eyelashes innocently, “Oh, nothing…” I said kindly. Zuko gave me a look of disbelief, not believing me for a second. But before he could open his mouth to say something, I placed my foot behind his feet and shoved him backward.

I could hear Zuko swear under his breath before a loud splash echoed once more in the gardens. Kiyi burst out laughing, “WE DID IT!” she screamed as I could see Zuko’s head start rising from the surface. He gasped loudly, breathing in all the air he could before he wiped his face with the back of his hand. His golden eyes were ablaze as he looked at me, “You wanna play dirty huh?” My eyes widen in surprise, and the next thing I knew my wrist was being tugged back into the water. I squealed, not again!

I gasped and spat out whatever water I managed to get into my mouth. My eyes aligned up with Zuko’s, a proud grin painting his face. This is war.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with!” I screamed as I pushed myself away from him and began frantically splashing water. Zuko scoffed as he tried to shield himself from my pitiful attacks. I kept splashing water towards him with all my might, all the while Zuko laughed hilariously at me. His head flung backward as he cried out in amusement, his wet hair swaying everywhere. His smile was enormous; his eyes practically shut closed from laughing so much. I could feel my heart swell up with enjoyment, knowing that I made him that happy. I made him smile that beautifully.

I huffed out in exhaustion as my arms were getting sore from splashing around, but Zuko was putting up the same amount of effort. “GO YUE~!” Screamed Kiyi at the top of her lungs. “You're supposed to be on my side Kiyi!” Zuko shouted before another well-timed splash cut him off. “Hey, don’t get distracted!” I yelled out while laughing. Zuko eyed me before he stopped his movements. My eyes widened, knowing that fiery look in his eyes. Zuko lunged forward, and I tried desperately to run away. Curse this stupid dress and Zuko’s robe! I'm moving at a turtle’s pace!

His arms snaked around my waist, and before I knew it, I was swinging in the air. I giggled like a child as I wrapped my arms around his neck, my feet dangling just above the water. “Surrender or else I'll drop you!” Zuko said between laughs. I could hear Kiyi gasp, and within seconds more splashes, “Don’t worry Yue, I'll save you!” I grinned watching Kiyi tightly hug Zuko’s back. But Zuko didn’t seem fazed at all, carrying both me and Kiyi. I giggled as I snuggled my head into Zuko’s neck.

This was perfect. Zuko was perfect. If this was what having a family means, I want it. More than anything in the world, I want a family with Zuko.

Their waves of laughter filled the palace, and soon guards and maids came to watch the ruckus happening in the garden. They all smiled and giggled to themselves watching the three of them play in the water like children. It was the first time they saw Fire Lord Zuko so free, smiling with not a single worry in the world.

But there was one person who enjoyed the scene the most. Uncle Iroh smiled happily to himself. He saw more than just three people having fun. He saw two people madly in love, so far in love, they probably didn’t realize it themselves. He wiped away a rogue tear that built up as he saw Zuko laughing and tightly embracing Ying Yue. He always waited for the day Zuko found happiness. It was all he ever wanted, for Zuko to be happy. Thank you, Ying Yue, Uncle Iroh muttered to himself, you were the missing puzzle piece in Zuko’s life all along.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

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justallamaimaginingthings · 5 years

Text

This Charming Man [Moder!Jorah Mormont x Reader]

Request: "Ay drug dealer can I get a fresh batch of Modern AU!Lord Mormont?" by @orderoftheflamingflamingos

A/n: Coffee Shop AU is just perfect for this case. I realized many of my imagines are named after song titles, oops. Hope you like it and thanks for requesting 💘

Words: 1900 || GoT Masterlist

Working in a small coffee shop in the heart of Edinburgh was not how you imagined your life after college would be. Unfortunately PhD's did not pay for themselves so you were forced to take a gap year in order to collect enough money that would finance you for at least the first few months. The fact that you were new to the country had seemed a bit frightening in the beginning but slowly you got used to the gloomy and yet majestic city and its habitants.

People were kind and friendly, especially as they made their orders and you had even come to know most of the regulars. Your life was going smoothly without any hint of drama or tension and you couldn't be happier about it. And then he walked in.

It was a specifically rainy day and you had lost the bus making you super late for your morning shift. Having run into the rain and cold caused your hair to end up in an absolute mess. It was that day the hottest and classiest man you had ever seen chose to enter your life. He was wearing a dark navy blue coat with a matching suit underneath. He sat down in a small table next to the window and pulled a book out of the leather briefcase he was carrying. Seeing how focused he seemed to be you were reluctant to interrupt him but you did either way.

"Good morning, what can I get you?" you asked politely hoping you didn't sound as nervous as you felt. There was something about that man that radiated calm and confident. The moment his stormy blue eyes met yours you could swear your heart skipped a beat. Never before had you seen such a capturing blue color, making his glance to seemingly pierce right through.

"A latte, please" he replied as his deep velvet voice send a small shiver down your spine.

"O-of course" you stutter mentally kicking yourself for your awkwardness. Usually you made the most amazing latte art, always causing a smile to form on customers' lips but knowing he was observing you, there was no chance your hands could be steady enough for that.

"There you go" you said leaving the hot cup of coffee on his table, a few minutes later.

"Thank you" he responded giving you a nonchalant smile. Soon, that became a routine, he'd come every day, sit on the same table and read. At first you didn't talk much but as days went by the two of you started chatting and getting to know each other and in no time there was no denying you had a huge crush on him. Jorah was always incredibly thoughtful and kind, never failing to make you laugh and lift your spirits.

Sometimes he would even wait for the end of your shift just so you could continue a conversation that had been interrupted way too many times. The two of you talked about all kind of things, but the one that stood out was literature. Never in your life had you seen someone having the same interest as you in the classics before meeting Jorah. The subject had come up when one day you saw him reading War And Peace, one of your favorites and had asked him about it.

After having been disinherited by his father, Jorah had left Edinburgh with no intentions of ever coming back and yet, years later, he was summoned back by the family lawyer only to be told his father had passed away without leaving any heir. Being back had been all but pleasant for Jorah, until he met you. Getting to see you every morning was the highlight of his day. Somehow he found himself unable to keep his thoughts away from you and all the feelings your soft smile caused him. At first he brushed those feelings off as mere excitement of having someone as young and beautiful as yourself around. However, he slowly started to notice it was much more than this. In the end it was your witty and intriguing personality that won him over.

Yesterday had been one of the most stressful days of his life and the results made themselves known the moment he opened his eyes in the form of a splitting headache. Mentally groaning, Jorah decided to ignore his body's way of demanding some peace and quiet and continued with his daily routine, making his way towards the familiar coffee shop.

"Morning, may I guess, the usual?" your cheery voice broke Jorah out of his thoughts. However, there was something different about him that day and you realized it the moment your eyes met his. Instead of replying he nodded in agreement prompting you to cock your eyebrow giving him a questioning look "Something's on your mind" you stated.

"It's just some family related stress, don't worry about it" he explained, but you knew there was more behind it.

"Want to talk about it?" you asked leaving down the trail you were holding and sitting next to him. Usually that conversation happened the other way round, as the blue eyed man had a way of understanding whenever something was troubling you.

"I wouldn’t want to impose on your time" he said despite wanting the exact opposite. Somehow talking to you always made him escape his problems and feel better. You could turn even the darkest days bright, with your sweet smile and comforting voice.

"Nonsense, just give me a second" you replied before getting up. A few moments later you returned without the signature green apron or the tray "It's sorted, I'm out for the day. How about we go for a walk and you can tell what's going on" you suggested and Jorah couldn't refuse the offer as a wide smile made its way to his face. He picked up his coat and followed you outside.

"You didn't have to do that, you know" he said feeling slightly guilty

"Jorah, you're always helping me through my problems I want to do the same" you explained reassuringly as you made your way to a nearby park and sat on a small wooden bench "So, what's going on?"

"My family and I haven't had the best of terms the past few years but after father's will was opened I have been running the family company. There were some bumps along the way but things finally smoothed out" Jorah explained trying to stray off details as much as he could. It wasn't that he didn't trust you, he was simply terrified you'd change your mind about him.

"I'm sorry about your father" you said, shocked that you didn't know about it sooner, as you placed your hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner causing Jorah's heart to flutter. In general you were a very touchy feely kind of person, for which Jorah couldn't be thankful enough as he enjoyed every single chance of physical contact that made his skin burn and his heart race.

"I hadn't seen him in a long time" Jorah added, brushing it off "The problem is my niece returned to town. She categorically despises me and to be honest, I don't I really blame her. Nonetheless, it reminds me of the person I was back when I lived here and the mistakes that person had made. I have greatly tried to let go of the past" there was a great amount of sadness hidden behind his blue eyes, finally coming out after being pent up way too long.

"I don't know what happened between you and your family, but I know who you are, Jorah. No matter what you've done in the past, that's exactly what it is, the past. You're a great person with a good heart, you only have to show her that. You deserve a second chance" you argued looking into his eyes. Seeing you defend him like that gave Jorah a newfound sense of confidence while the fact that you believed in him was enough to make a spark of hope light up in his heart.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked and it was the first time you ever saw him acting so vulnerable seeing that usually he was the most collected and put together person you knew.

"Of course I do, Jorah. You've been nothing but a great support to me. And I refuse to believe a person who loves War and Peace so much to be a bad person" you added chuckling which caused him to mirror the action as a slight laugh escaped his lips "Your niece will come around, just give her time to see who you are now"

"Lyanna may not be as forgiving as you are, but that can work" Jorah was about to say something else before your eyes widened in shock.

"Lyanna Mormont as in the youngest MIT graduate? I knew I had heard the name before. Lyanna is your niece? But I've heard she came from a noble family. Wait are you…?" your mind was struggling to wrap up around the facts causing a bemused smile to light up Jorah's features at your adorably confused expression.

"Lord Jorah Mormont of House Mormont" he introduced himself formally, deep down enjoying the way your jaw dropped in surprise.

"W-what?" there was a ton of questions running through your mind in the speed of light as it all clicked together. His sharp appearance and formal vocabulary, the love he held for classic literature and the way he seemed to know everything about the city, everything made sense.

"Precisely" he agreed nodding positively.

"So, you live in Mormont Manor? I've heard you can see the whole city from the balconies, is that true?" you asked enthusiastically. It was no secret you had heard a lot about that place.

"Indeed it is" he replied and that was when it hit you that you were completely missing the point.

"I'm bubbling aren't I? I'm sorry for intruding" you apologized suddenly feeling like you had overstepped a line.

"It's perfectly fine. Besides, I'd like to suggest something, my cousin Maege is holding a celebration for Lyanna's return and I hoped having someone with me would help making it worth suffering through" he suggested trying not to let his nervousness show. If he wanted to be honest if it weren't for you, he would find a way to skip the whole event despite knowing it would only make the situation worse. Maybe, with the right company, there was a chance to make the most of it though.

"You mean like a date?" you asked before you could stop yourself, instantly feeling your face burning by the intense blushing.

"A date, indeed" Jorah agreed giving you a heartwarming smile

"I'd loved to" you replied mirroring the action with one of your own.

That was the last thing you expected to come out of this day and yet you couldn't be happier. Jorah had come to mean a lot to you and seeing that he trusted you with something as serious as that meant a lot. Upon seeing the look in his eyes, you couldn’t help noticing a hint of excitement and maybe something more, something you'd go as far as to call affection. All in all, you couldn’t wait until Saturday…

#jorah mormont imagine #jorah mormont x reader #jorah mormont #jorah x reader #jorah imagine #iain glen #iain glen imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones au #got imagine #got x reader #got au #got #au #alternate universe

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gh03st-writer · 5 years

Text

Madam Kadara

Summary: Phoenix Ryder got herself exiled after joining the revolt on the Nexus when both the Arks and Pathfinders were nowhere in sight. After over a year of coping with losing her family and being stranded in a whole new galaxy, she finally gets word of an Ark docking the Nexus: the Ark Hyperion. The arrival of the Hyperion and its Pathfinder shakes Phoenix’s world and forces her to consider her position as an information dealer on Kadara.

Pairing: Reyes x OFC

chapter 3

Chapter 4: Dirty Laundry

“Be a better soldier than I ever was,” Alec’s voice echoed in her head.

Her hands trembled as she held onto her Alliance issued assault rifle, it was her first mission as an N7 and her nerves were already starting to get the better of her before they even made landfall. She looked around the small shuttle, taking in the faces of Alliance marines and shuttle personnel.

“Alright team, we get in, save our people, and get out,” Alec shouted over the comms, “Any questions?”

The shuttle was silent as everyone prepared to hit the ground running. Alec clapped Phoenix’s shoulder, “Ready, kiddo?”

Phoenix smiled, “Born ready.”

Alec chuckled as the shuttle landed and the doors opened. Marines started to file out, ready to see their mission through. Phoenix stepped out of the shuttle and her surroundings shifted; suddenly she was on Habitat 7.

She frantically looked around for any of the other members of her team but was only greeted by her father. Phoenix rushed over to Alec and immediately noticed his lack of a helmet, she knew something wasn’t adding up, “Dad, where are we and where’s your helmet, are you crazy?”

Alec smiled with a twinge of sadness, “Take care of your siblings, Nix.”

Phoenix knit her brows together, “What are you talking about?”

Alec looked off towards the horizon, “My time’s up,” he looked back towards her and pulled her into a strong embrace, “You’re a better soldier than I ever was, Nix, never doubt that.”

“What,” Phoenix was at a loss for words, her mind not able to comprehend what was happening, “Dad…”

They separated and Alec smiled warmly as he began to disappear. Phoenix reached out to take hold of him but her hand met nothing but air, “Dad, where are you going?!”

Phoenix shot up in her bed in a cold sweat, her breath labored, “Dad!”

She took in her surroundings and recognized that she was still in her room in Kralla’s Song. Reyes immediately woke up next to her, her voice startling him, “What’s wrong?!”

Phoenix slowly gained control of her breathing again, “Nothing, I just had a bad dream, go back to sleep.”

Reyes took in her disheveled state, leaning against the wall behind him, “Do you want to talk?”

Phoenix leaned back against him and sighed, “Sure, dealer’s choice.”

He could tell that Phoenix wasn’t ready to talk about what woke her but she needed a distraction to help her mind process everything without making her want to pull her own hair out. Reyes remembered the deal she made with him before running off to go meet with Sloane and she wasn’t about to get off the hook for leaving his room early because of the mention of a friend she’s never talked about before, “Doctor Carlyle.”

“What about him,” Phoenix asked, she wondered how much information he really wanted to know.

Reyes absentmindedly brushed his hand through her hair, “Whatever you’re willing to tell me.”

Phoenix contemplated how much she was going to tell him; she didn’t want to hide anything from him but also wondered if it would change anything between them. It was a strange thing for her to worry about, she knew that past relationships were never a problem between them before but there was still a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach planting a seed of doubt. She wrapped one of his arms around herself and intertwined their fingers, her voice carrying a tone of dramatic flair, “Well, buckle up, because this is a tale of romance, drama, and heart break.”

Reyes raised his eyebrows, “That interesting?”

Phoenix grinned, “Absolutely, my life before Andromeda was nothing if not interesting.”

They laughed and Phoenix continued to tell Reyes about Carlyle, “Doctor Harry Carlyle and I met on the Citadel after I got caught in the crossfire of a back alley fight in the Wards, after that I started to find other excuses to see him, you could say it was love at first stitch.”

Phoenix could feel Reyes trying to hold back his laughter, “What’s so funny?”

“You sound like a schoolgirl with a crush on the boy next door,” Reyes replied, “It’s cute.”

“I guess it is,” Phoenix laughed warmly, “Harry and I started our little love affair probably a year after that, we even went so far as to live together on the Citadel for three years before the Nexus left for Andromeda,” there was more to the story but she decided to save the part about heartbreak for another day. She looked at their intertwined fingers and wondered if their relationship would share the same fate.

“That’s more than a little love affair,” Reyes remarked, doing his best to reassure her despite his own bubbling feelings of jealousy. He could tell something was bothering about her relationship with Carlyle that she wasn’t telling him.

Phoenix noticed a change in the demeanor of his voice. She moved so that she was straddling his lap, her voice taking a teasing tone of its own, “Are you jealous, Vidal?”

“A little,” Reyes responded, “Can you blame me?”

Phoenix hummed, “I guess not, I would be the same way if it was the other way around,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, “If it helps, age was a major factor to the end of our relationship.”

“How so,” Reyes questioned.

“Harry is almost twenty years older than me,” Phoenix replied.

“An older man,” Reyes gasped, “Scandalous.”

Phoenix laughed as he flipped them over so that she was laying underneath him. Cognac eyes stared up at him with warmth as her hair splayed out underneath her like a sunset-colored halo highlighting the golden tones of her skin. Her smile bright enough to light up the darkest rooms.

“Do you need a map,” Phoenix remarked, “Because I think you’re the one lost in my eyes now.”

“Not lost,” Reyes smiled as he brought his lips to her throat, “Just enjoying the view.”

Phoenix bit her bottom lip as a moan escaped her lips and Reyes slowly made his way down her body.

The rest of their morning and early afternoon was spent tangled together in bed.

Phoenix rested her head on Reyes’ chest as both checked their own respective Omni-tools for emails. Reyes showed Phoenix one of the messages he received from Angaran Resistance, “Look, they want me to meet with the human Pathfinder in Kralla’s Song about Vehn Tarav.”

“That traitor,” Phoenix said, “What would she want with him?”

“Something about his part in giving the Moshae to the Kett,” Reyes replied.

Phoenix made a sound of acknowledgement as she continued to scroll through her own email. She chuckled when she saw one from her sister, “Guess we both have a date with the Pathfinder.”

Reyes looked at Phoenix’s Omni-tool as she read the email:

Hey Back

I have to meet a contact on Kadara so you could say I’ll be in the area.

I’ll meet you in Kralla’s Song after I meet up with my contact.

<3 Artemis

“Looks a little,” Reyes chose his words carefully, “Lackluster if you ask me.”

Phoenix titled her head to look at him, “What did you expect, confetti to shoot out of my Omni-tool when I opened the email?”

Reyes chuckled, “No, but I thought that an email between sisters that haven’t seen each other in over six hundred years would be more heartfelt.”

“Artemis has always been a woman of action more than one of words,” Phoenix told Reyes, “She gets that from me.”

Reyes closed his Omni-tool and stretched, “Then Kadara Port is in for quite the surprise, two impulsive Ryder women on the loose.”

Phoenix sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, “You have no idea.”

She stood and walked over to where she kept her clothes before turning to Reyes and throwing him his own shirt, “Ready to do the walk of shame?”

He laughed at her teasing tone, catching his shirt midair, “What walk of shame,” he scoffed, “I’m pretty sure Umi thinks I live here.”

“I’m sure Kian could say the same with how much time I spend in your room in Tartarus,” Phoenix sat to put on her boots. She opened her Omni-tool quickly and sent out a message for one of her operatives to meet her in Spirits’ Ledge. The Carnifex pistol she got from her father when she graduated the N7 program laid on a side table next to her bed, she picked it up to check its ammo and make sure the safety was still on; getting shot in the foot when she put it in the holster on her upper thigh wasn’t the plan.

Reyes watched her check her gun, “Big plans today?”

Phoenix shrugged, “Not really, just going to settle a couple of debts.”

“Want a hand,” Reyes offered, he knew he couldn’t go personally but he had no problem sending a person or two from the Collective.

Phoenix shook her head and walked towards the door, “No, Fardok is going with me.”

Reyes nodded, happy with her response; having a Krogan on your side meant that your chances of getting whatever you wanted increased significantly.

They parted ways at the lift, Reyes went down to the Slums and Phoenix grabbed her shuttle and headed to Spirits’ Ledge.

Phoenix landed her shuttle in a hidden cave, Fardok met her a few clicks away. The Krogan greeted Phoenix with a strong pat on the back, “How’s Madam Kadara today?”

“Ready to crack some skulls,” she returned his greeting.

Fardok laughed with his whole body, “That’s why I like you, you think like a Krogan!”

Phoenix showed Fardok a map of the local area and pointed towards an area that was just below them, “That’s where we’re headed, we get in, I get my credits, and maybe even get a good fight in if we’re lucky.”

“I hope so,” Fardok chuckled, “I need a good work out.”

The two of them made their way below and were greeted by gunfire. Phoenix raised her arm in front of and the bullets bounced right back towards the area they came from. She waved her hand out towards the same area and sent a shockwave of biotic force forward.

Fardok charged forward as a building came in view and Phoenix took cover behind a nearby boulder to assess the situation. She counted six men shooting and two snipers on either side of the building. A smile stretched across her face as she realized this collection errand would be a challenge after all. The ground around her started to pulsate as she focused her biotics into a deadly force surrounding her and she turned the safety on her handgun off.

The battle lasted no longer than an hour before Phoenix and Fardok reached the person Phoenix was collecting from. She pointed her gun at the woman’s head, “Alright, that was nice but play time’s over Danny, where’s my money.”

Danny sneered, “Why, just so you can kill me anyway?!”

“I hadn’t planned on it,” Phoenix replied matter-of-factly, “I’m not Sloane, I don’t kill people I do business with, as long as they keep their end of the bargain.”

“So why the Krogan,” Danny questioned.

Phoenix looked at her as if the woman was stupid, “Because, I’m not dumb enough to go into a gun fight unprepared,” her tone became increasingly impatient, “I suggest you pay me what you owe, my friend behind me tends to get a little trigger happy when he’s bored.”

Danny quickly transferred the credits she owed, “There, payment in full.”

“Lovely doing business with you,” Phoenix smiled and lowered her gun just as it went off and Danny yelled, dropping to the ground and holding her leg.

“What the fuck was that for,” Danny screamed.

Phoenix holstered her pistol, “Late payments incur interest, Danny.”

Danny cursed as Phoenix and Fardok left the building. Phoenix opened her Omni-tool and transferred credits to Fardok, “This was fun, let’s do it again some time.”

Fardok laughed, “Say the word and I’m there.”

Phoenix waved her goodbye to Fardok and boarded her shuttle. She started the shuttle’s engine as her Omni-tool began to blink, indicating she had a call incoming. She sighed, “An information broker’s job is never done.”

She set the shuttle’s nav point for Kadara Port and turned on the autopilot before leaning back in her seat and answering the Omni-tool, “If you’re calling for to inquire about information, send me an email, otherwise, talk quickly.”

“Actually,” Reyes voice came from the other end of the call, “I was calling to see if you would have dinner with me.”

Phoenix welcomed the warm tones of his voice, “Normally, I don’t dine with my clients, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll start thinking you like me,” Reyes said.

Phoenix smiled to herself, “Well, considering I let you sleep in my bed, it’s safe to assume I don’t hate you.”

She could hear the grin in his voice, “Meet me outside Kadara Port in two hours.”

The call ended shortly after and Phoenix wondered what he had planned.

#reyes vidal #reyes x oc #reyes x ofc #Mass Effect #Mass Effect OC #mass effect:andromeda #original female character #origianl character #original ryder #original female ryder

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kamino-ink · 6 years

Text

A Mess of Stress | Seo Changbin

✧ Genre: Soulmate!au, really cute you gUYS, minor angst

✧ Summary: Changbin has always been your best friend; he’s there to comfort you when you’re upset, to hold you close when you’re scared, and hug you tightly when you’re happy - but, he’s constantly pushing away his own problems in doing so. You’re determined to help him open up.

✧ Word Count: 2.8k

✧ Want to read other parts of this series? Check out my masterlist!

✧

Having an emotion based connection to your soulmate was positively exhausting, to say the least. You could sense their emotions and they could sense yours; there wasn’t a real way to identify who that other half of you was, physically. All you could hope for was the very, very slim chance that somehow you would be around said soulmate during a period of intense emotional pressure, such as overwhelming happiness after spotting an absolutely adorable dog across the street, or even waves of fear while watching a spectacular horror film.

In terms of your soulmate and how they felt bearing your emotions, you more or less felt really bad for the poor sap. You were prone to having some intense mood swings, mostly because you were rather sensitive to the world around you. When you watched dramas, you usually went from a warm ball of joy to a feeling of so much sadness that, if it was possible, your ears would droop downwards like an upset puppy. Or, for another example, you would be skipping down the sidewalk alongside your group of friends when you spot some ignorant asshole carelessly throwing a bundle of trash onto the grass - which would have you bubbling over in anger that was often expressed by you grabbing the trash and tossing it into the nearest bin since someone clearly couldn't do it on their own.

“Holy shit, I am going to implode before I get this study guide done!” You whined loudly in the midst of your bedroom, your grip on your pen tightening while you rested your cheek onto the stack of papers on top of your desk.

“And why is that, Y/N?”

“Because my soulmate is always feeling so fucking stressed out, and since I’m stressed out already it really isn’t helping.”

“Ah, I got you.” The man sprawled out on your comforter hummed after your exasperated explanation, meeting your dead gaze with a quirked eyebrow. “So are you like, pissed at them or what?”

You huff quietly, lifting your head again just to bury your cold cheeks into the palms of your hands while you propped your elbows onto the desk. “No, I mean I get it, you know? But it worries me how often they’re so stressed out, Binnie.” Another sigh escapes your lips. “I’m worried about their home life or whatever, you know? What if they’re stuck in a shitty family situation and I can’t help them? Or - what if they’re all alone studying their ass off for some huge exam? Oh god, what if they’re like the CEO of a company and that’s why they’re so stress-”

“Calm down, Gyu. I doubt they’re so important that they’re the CEO of some high and mighty company,” Changbin murmured, sitting up on your bed to hold his arms out encouragingly, watching as you let out another disgruntled noise and walk over to your bed, flopping down onto the messy blankets and sheets right into his arms, “everyone gets stressed out, you’ll just have to deal with it for a while.”

“I still don’t understand why you gave me the same nickname as your stuffed Munchlax.”

“Is that seriously the only thing you got out of what I just said?”

“No, Binnie - I just... whoever my soulmate is, they’re really important to me. I just want them to relax and be happy, wherever they are in the world.” You admit softly, nearly letting out a purr as the man starts to slowly run his fingers through your hair, his other hand coming to rest underneath your head and readjust it so your head was resting peacefully on his lap.

“Mhm. Well, I’m sure that the lucky bastard is happy as can be, even if you can’t feel it over their stress.” He reassured you calmly, smiling to himself as you visibly start to relax under his touch and curl up even closer to him.

“H-hey, don’t call my soulmate a bastard, asshole.”

“Alright, whatever you say, Gyu.”

You really wanted to know what Changbin’s soulmate bond was. The secretive man had yet to even speak a word of it for however many years the two of you had been friends, and it seemed as if none of your other mutual friends could exactly pinpoint what his connection was either. Both you and Felix, arguably the two closest people in the world with Changbin himself, were dead set on figuring it out.

Felix had met his soulmate a couple of weeks ago, and now the only people left in your close-knit trio to find their respective soulmates were, of course, you and Changbin. Though, as time went by, you found yourself feeling like you’d be alone forever. A connection through just emotion wasn’t enough to go off of, especially compared to a bond similar to say, Felix and his soulmate; they could essentially “see” through the other person’s eyes if they concentrated hard enough, which was how Felix was able to hunt them down after so long.

The cherry on top was the fact that your soulmate was still overwhelmed with crushing stress. While it was clear that they were at least trying to compensate for the distress that weaved its way into your head, it wasn’t enough - you were starting to crumble under emotions that didn’t even belong to you. On occasion, your other half would have snippets of joy or warmth that flooded your senses, but they would rarely last more than maybe two minutes before the stress started to eat at their brain - and yours, too.

But that was one of the least of your concerns at the moment, because for now, you were trying to distract yourself by prying into Changbin’s head.

“Binnie, why can't any of us know what your connection is?” The question is innocent enough in all honesty, your lips curled into a soft pout of confusion as you utter the words to the man you called your best friend sat next to you in the middle of class.

Music theory was interesting, but it wasn’t really your top choice in electives for the new semester; but then the black haired man had sent you a defeated frown when he noticed you didn't share any classes with each other. So, naturally, as one does, you sacrificed a random elective in creative writing so you could be with him for some portion of the school day.

Changbin spared you a quick glance before turning back to his notes, scribbling messily on his notebook and occasionally going to jot something down in the little notepad he carried with him everywhere. “I just, don’t care about the idea of having my friends potentially invading my privacy and my soulmate’s, okay?” He utters gruffly, but it isn't enough to satisfy you.

While you definitely weren't looking to agitate him or push his buttons, you still had so many questions.

“Alright, that’s understandable - but can I at least get a hint?”

“No.”

“Do you know if they're a boy or a girl? I bet that they’re awesome either way, maybe we could all be friends!”

“Uh huh...”

“Oh, I wonder if they live close by - wouldn’t it be cool to take a trip somewhere new, just to meet them in person-”

“Can you shut the fuck up, please?” Changbin finally snapped, albeit not causing a scene in the middle of the lecture - his voice came out sharp and gruff, still enough to startle you. “Stop trying to get me to open up, it’s annoying as fuck Y/N.”

“I-” You stutter on your next choice words, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment because somehow, you had managed to piss of your best friend. “I’m sorry, Changbin.”

“Yeah, whatever. Apology accepted, Gyu.” He mutters, not even looking at you as he goes to write something else in his hidden notepad.

Usually the nickname would make you feel warm and bubbly, but all you could think of was how you had pushed your friend too far. So you nodded silently before turning back to your side of the shared desk, letting your hair move to the side of your face so that he couldn't see the flush of your cheeks, or the guilt ridden flash in your eyes.

You felt like shit, and you were positive that your soulmate felt the same way - or not, who knows, since the person was as stressed as ever, even more so than before if that was even possible.

Your emotions were an unhealthy mix of guilt, stress, and sadness; ever since you had caused the patient Changbin to snap at you in the middle of Music Theory last week, you’d tried to keep your talking to him at a minimum; at least in terms of soulmates. Not a word of your struggles regarding keeping up with your soulmate’s drowning emotions seeped out between your lips the entire week, and you had completely stopped asking Changbin about his bond.

“Ugh, I hate this!” You groaned into your pillow, holding the fluffy material against your face for a few more moments before tossing it aside onto the bed, a soft sigh echoing in your otherwise silent bedroom.

Tomorrow was the day of the campus dance - it usually went on in the start of October, since most of the student body wouldn’t be at the school during the small break they got between Halloween and the first days of November. You’d been hoping for Changbin to bring it up at some point, but he’d simply brushed it off whenever it was mentioned. With another inevitable sigh, you lean over and grab your phone from your nightstand, bringing it up to your face and flinching at the initial flash of brightness from unlocking it.

‘Are you going to the dance tomorrow, Binnie?’

Almost immediately you got a response, though it wasn’t the one you wanted.

‘No way, I’m swamped with work and shit the next couple of days. You’re not going, are you?’

You’re contemplating on replying because you really, really wanted to go to the dance; tons of high schoolers tended to be let in since they were friends or relatives with the upperclassmen, albeit mostly college freshman, and you already knew that Felix and his friends would be going. It was rare for all of you to actually get together and goof around as a group, so you figured it was reasonable enough why you wanted to go.

A notification pops up on the top of your screen, and you barely catch the contact name before it disappears.

Why was Woojin texting you so late at night?

‘Hey kiddo, this is super sudden and probably late notice, but I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dance with me tomorrow? We haven’t gotten to talk in a hot minute since we’ve both been busy :D’

‘Actually I was just in the middle of debating on whether to go alone or not - let’s do it!’

‘Oh shit I didn't actually think you'd be going alone, but hey I guess that’s more us time then! Can I pick you up at eight? We can get dinner before or after if you want~’

‘By dinner you mean two buckets of KFC, honeybear, let’s be real with ourselves lmao. Eight is cool, and I’m down to eat whenever you want!’

‘That’s perfect, I’ll see you tomorrow then!! Get some sleep too, I know you still have an early class tomorrow’

‘Shut it, old man’

You let out a chuckle as you reply to the older student, quickly going back to message Changbin about your plans for tomorrow night.

‘Good news~ Woojinnie asked me if I could go with him to the dance!! If you have a chance, you should drop by so all of us can hang out’ [read, 11:57 pm]

“So, why couldn't Changbin come out tonight?” Chan asks you curiously, taking another swig of his beer that Minho had snuck into the dance, much to Woojin’s annoyance.

You nibble on your bottom lip, readjusting the jacket Woojin had lent you a while ago since you'd gotten a bit chilly, just wearing a flattering top and pants. “He said that he’s being swamped with homework, but just the other day he told me he was free to go tonight.” You end up admitting to the three men, making Minho cock and eyebrow in burning curiosity.

“I mean, I heard some of the other music teachers were assholes and assigned some papers the other day. That’s why my date couldn't come tonight, poor thing.” He hummed with a shrug.

“You would've ditched the poor girl just so you could take shots out here, Minho.” You deadpan, giggling as he pouts and glares at Chan and Woojin who silently nod in agreement.

“Hey, it looks like it’s about to rain,” Woojin murmurs nonchalantly, looking up to the darkening sky now riddled with icky gray rainclouds, with a sudden boom of thunder being more than enough to convince you all that his prediction was right, “lets head to the car, yeah? We can go get some food and head back to my place for the night since you idiots came here alone and drank without a designated driver.” The elder man scolded the other two playfully, smacking the backs of their heads as he started to head to the parking lot.

“I’ll text Felix real quick and tell them to meet up with us at your house in a few.” You tell the trio as they start to walk to the car quickly, all of you feeling the first few droplets of rain.

Since the sprinkles of rain didn’t exactly bother you, you take out your phone and send the message to the younger boy, only when you go to stuff it in your pocket the rain has turned into a full on downpour - soaking you within seconds.

You try, and fail, to cover your exposed top half with your arms to act like a shield. It was not your week, clearly.

Suddenly though, the rain has stopped pelting down onto your body. You look over, only to widen your eyes in shock.

“I knew you wouldn’t look at the weather, Y/N,” Changbin mumbles softly, reaching out a hand to latch onto one of your arms and pull you closer to him under his umbrella, “not bringing an umbrella or a raincoat for you? Tsk, I guess Woojin couldn't be bothered to check the forecast either, then.”

“W-what... what are you even doing here, Binnie?” You question him in surprise, glad that the darkness of the night and the bellowing storm was enough to hide your pink cheeks.

The man stayed silent for a second, only to subconsciously tug you even closer to his body, leaving you quite literally pressed against his chest. “I felt like shit for ditching you. I didn't have any schoolwork, I was focused on something else entirely and was so fucking stressed about it-” he broke off to clear his throat and raise his voice so that you could hear him over the growing storm, “I also wanted to apologize for causing you so much stress over the past couple of weeks, er, months.”

No way.

“I - Changbin, that doesn’t make sense,” you breathed out airily, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and wonder, “you don’t make me feel stressed, ever. It’s my soulmate who - oh my god.”

“Took you a second, huh?” He chuckled, leaning down just enough so his forehead was gently pressed against yours.

“But how - how did you know? Why wouldn't you tell me, Binnie?” You ask him quickly, your words a rush as you start to ramble in a state of astonishment.

“Whenever you get excited over the stupidest things, like finding extra change in your pocket or seeing a dog across the street, I feel your happiness. When you sob like a damn baby over those shitty dramas, I feel your sadness and agitation. I’ve always been able to easily feel every emotion you’ve ever felt.” He explains, slowly inching closer and closer down your temple so that the tips of your cold noses were pressed against one another. “I didn't say anything for so long because I didn't think either of us were ready. I mean, we were still kids just a year ago, technically,”

“I didn't want to move too fast... but then the younger kids started meeting their soulmates, and they’re all happy and content. So... here I am?” He breathes out, his soft, warm breaths fanning out onto your parted lips, now just an inch or two away.

Without wasting another moment thinking everything over, you cup the man’s cheeks in your hands and bring him down just enough so you can kiss him, tasting his sweet lips with a slow, caring pace. He nearly drops the umbrella in surprise, but catches it and manages to keep it over your heads as he slowly kisses you back, still using his other hand to hold you to his chest.

You both pull away at the same time, blushing furiously on both ends.

“... we’re about to go grab some KFC and crash at Woojin’s, you wanna come with?”

“Of course I do, Gyu.”

✧

#skzwriters #stray kids #stray kids au #stray kids soulmate au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagine #seo changbin #changbin scenario #changbin imagine #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff

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