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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

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❛ TAKING THE NEXT STEP ❜

with Obispo ‘Bishop’ Losa.

Warnings: none

Word count: about 1.2k

Aurora says: Just a fluffy idea running through my head! This writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

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You have been anxiously waiting for your shift at the hospital to be finished, to go to Vicki's house. The crew has been on a run in Mexico for the last two weeks, without knowing anything about them until two hours ago, when they crossed the Calexico border. You can't lie. The one you have missed the most has been Bishop. He has been your best friend for more than five years, even if everybody thinks that you are actually in a relationship. You can't blame them. You sleep together a lot of days of the week, you have rode his bike, you have had some kind of dates. And there's a solid complicity between both, not needing words to know what the other is thinking in every moment.

You practically run out of the hospital to your car, stationed in the subterranean parking, speeding up as soon as you join the road. Your way only takes you ten minutes, excited to meet the crew, after much long time. Most of them are actually waiting for you at the porch of the house, cheering you up when you stop your Mustang next to them. Angel and Coco are the first to receive you between hugs and kisses, followed by Creeper and Gilly, and ending up with a smiling EZ who takes his time in narrowing you between his strong arms.

“How was Mexico, ah?”

“Bored without you, dulcecito”. Angel replies with a singing voice.

“You work tomorrow, mami?”

“Nah, I asked for two days off, so we can have a party tomorrow night”.

“Bonita e inteligente”. (Beautiful and smart). Gilly is very proud.

Coming into the house, Taza lifts you up surprisingly in his arms, filling your face with loud and short kisses. He's always the most happy to see you again, without counting with El Presidente. While Tranqs awaits to do the same.

“I will not ask for Riz”. Narrowing your eyes, they laugh, shaking their heads, assuming that he is enjoying the pleasure of ‘his house’. “Prez?”

“Outside, kid. Resting. Tired as fuck”. Taza sighs, raising a hand to the back door in the kitchen.

“See you in some minutes to share tequila shots”.

Making your way to the other room, you step out of the big house going downstairs to the back yard. Bishop is lying on a hammock with his legs crossed over it and an arm covering his eyes. You can't help but smile softly, being aware that he hasn't noticed your presence yet. Walking towards him and trying to be silent, you sit on the edge of the hammock, leaning forward to press your lips on his forehead for some long seconds. You hear him sighing, sounding alleviated, in the meantime that his arm over his face surrounds your waist to push you closer. Cupping his rough cheeks into your hands, you continue kissing his face, all around. His other arm gets placed on your back, pushing you to almost lie on his chest.

Sinking your face on his neck, you continue the soft kisses there, until resting your cheek on his shoulder, half-sitting yet. You have missed him more than you thought, exactly as he has done. Starting some caresses with his fingertips running to your back, his lips find your temple. It feels like if you are finally back at home.

“Are you gonna stay tonight with me?” He whispers with a hoarse tone of voice, keeping his eyes closed.

“On a scale from zero to ten, how much do you need me?”

“One million. Maybe two”. He chuckles, making you some space to lie by his side.

“Are you hurt?”

“Just tired, querida”.

“I am too”.

“Long day, ah?”

“More like I couldn't sleep too much for the last two weeks”.

Bishop embraces you, taking the liberty to put a leg over his. You don't want him to move a single inch of his body, needing to stay just like that. Closing your eyes, you imagine for one second that you two are alone in the world. No people, no pain, no worries. Your fingers draw some shapes on his chest. Slowly. Caressing his skin over the black shirt. Sometimes you have needed to be exactly like that. Lying against him in silence, calming you down just with the constant sound of his heartbeat, between his arms.

Leaning down to be at your level, his hand on your back travels to your head. Fingers getting tangled in your mane, pushing you a little closer until your noses almost touch the other. You love how warm his hold is, being able to protect you from the lower temperatures.

“I've missed it”. You whisper, not wanting to sound like a secret, but keeping it only to you two.

“I've missed you”.

Bishop brings a sweet smile to your face, opening one eye, for a moment, to find you with that gesture installed on the corner of your lips.

“Do you ever think about taking a step ahead?” Mumbling, you look for his dark eyes.

“Every day. Mostly when I'm on the road”.

Nailing an elbow over the hammock, you rest your cheek on the palm of your head, watching him from above. He lies on his back, putting his left hand on his abdomen. His eyes fixed on the dark sky.

“When I ride by night, I can't help but imagine that I'm coming back home and that you are waiting for me”.

“Well, I usually do”. You shake your head lightly, chuckling.

“Yes, but the fact is that I'm not coming back home. So, I imagine your arms wrapping me. A kiss on my nape. And that thing you do with your nose, caressing my neck”.

The smile on your lips just gets bigger, with your fingers continuing the invisible drawings on his chest.

“Do you?”

You nod, enraptured with your fingertips for a second, raising your eyes to his.

“Yeah, mostly when I wake up and my bed is empty, and I'm cold, and I feel a hole in my soul”.

“Here we go with the poetic shit”.

Palming his chest using some strength, but not hurting him, Bishop stirs laughing. Urging you to lie again between his arms, the mexican presses your forehead with his lips. You can hear his heartbeat speeding up a little, like yours. He has that power of racing your pulse just with one simple kiss.

“You can move to my house”.

You are aware that he tries to hide a begging behind an innocent invitation. But you know that he really wants it. Turning his head towards yours, he is waiting for a reply. An affirmative one. But you like to tease him more than anything. Clicking his tongue, Bishop twists his neck again, back to his initial position how you found him some minutes ago.

“Forget it. Was a stupid idea, querida”.

Laughing in silence, you force him to look at you again, grabbing his chin with three fingers. He is about to apologize himself when your mouth shuts him up. Your lips taste the tequila on the others, not wasting time on tucking your tongue into his cavity, deepening the slow kiss. Swallowing a gasp, the man holds you tightly onto his body, tangling your legs. Your lips dance with his, curving your neck a little, to mold them somewhat better. A prickly feeling roams your skin, bristling it, when you feel one of his hands squeezing your thigh over his.

“Take me home, cariño”. You ask him in ecstasy by his touches.

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#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc #mayans x reader #bishop losa #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x reader #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years

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Fallen From Grace Part 2. Yan Giorno x Reader [COMM]

Click here for part one!

Luxury surrounds you at every turn, and tonight is so different.

The dish that’s sitting in front of you for tonight is bruschetta, a dish warm and inviting in contrast with its desolate surroundings. Bread grilled in a brick oven with fine, expensive cheese melted onto it, hints of garlic and olive oil mixing in to create a drool inducing image. On top lays a light garnish of parsley, bright green contrasting the deep reds of the tomato.

Every one of your meals is similar in this refined quality. It felt jarring at first, having every need of yours attended to with utmost care. Not only because it’s unusual to be treated with this regard, but because of those who carry the actions out themselves.

They scurry around you, gaze cowering to the ground and voice meeker than a mouse. On the scarce occasion they find it absolutely necessary to ask you a question related to your preferences, their eyes never dare to meet your own. A sudden interest in the top of their shoes develops, or fiddling with any objects in hand. Your premature conclusion was that they were too guilt ridden to even look at you.

Now, lips pressing against a glass and taking in sips of cool water, you know the lamentable truth.

It isn’t that the servants of this villa feel remorse for standing by and enabling your isolation, failing to assist at any opportunity. No, money can soothe any scathing concerns in that regard. It’s a different poison, far more venomous than all consuming guilt. It’s a primal fear of Italy’s most powerful don that drives their complacency, in sight of immoral actions.

Spineless cowards. Every single one of them.

You return the cup to its original place on the long, wooden table. The muted sound is the only one in the grand dining room, aside from occasional silverware hitting a plate across from you. Since the beginning of dinner, you’ve made it a point to ignore him. Too many troubles to count plague your mind, the man on the other side of the table being the source.

Uneasy silence does not last as long as you wish it would. He gently clears his throat, a signal that shouldn’t go ignored. Looking up now, you’re unsurprised to see Giorno’s ever watchful gaze meeting you back. Pale skin is illuminated by flickering candlelight, golden hair framing his mature face.

There’s a closed mouth smile on his face, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Unsettling.

“Do you still not feel hungry?”

Giorno’s voice startles you, fingers twitching by your side. Time is an elusive thing, minutes always seeming to blur together, creating an incoherent mess. How long have the two of you been sitting here? Ten or so minutes, is your guess. Judging from his plate being almost finished, you realize just how long your thoughts were holding you captive.

Swallowing back the bile that creeps into your throat, your eyelids flutter shut. “Ah… something like that. You don’t need to wait for me, I’m sure you’re busy.”

It’s Giorno’s turn now to take a sip from a wine glass, swirling the white liquid before raising it to his mouth. It’s rare that he drinks, a distaste for heavy alcohol consumption a moral code embedded in his person. Moscato d’Asti if you recall correctly, which you declined an offer for earlier. From the bottle alone you surmise it cost a fortune.

“You’ve hardly eaten anything today,” Giorno points out to you, voice leaving little room for argument. He looks at your untouched plate, frowning at the undesirable sight. “Should I have something else prepared for you…?”

Exhaling shakily, you accentuate your disinterest in the subject by avoiding eye contact. It’s been like this lately, always placed under a magnifying glass. A tense exchange between supposed lovers, neither cluing the other of their true agendas. In this twisted parody of a dance, Giorno claims a clear upper hand. He leads you according to his own tempo, never once stopping to let you regain your breath.

Even with him out of your vision, you still feel the crushing weight of his stare. You swallow despite the dryness of your mouth, reaching once more for the soothing glass of water. Panic has long since settled in, disrupting any logical way of thinking and successfully shaking you up. How long can you hide your secrets from him? At this rate, you won’t last much longer.

It all started four, excruciatingly long days ago.

Marco, a guard who you have grown fond of, seemingly vanished into thin air. Along with all the other workers. No explanation, no clues, nothing. The days that followed left you littered with doubts and soul crushing anxiety, taking your every thought hostage. Did something happen to him? If so, what? Did Giorno learn of your secret interactions with him? And if he did, how the hell is he remaining so composed?

“You’ve been zoning out often.”

It’s unfair how he can pick up on your behavior without even trying. Being picked apart and analyzed in real time has never been your favorite, yet it feels even more dreadful now. When you first arrived in this golden barred cage, you had nothing to hide. Now, the burdens of your sins against Giorno threaten to swallow you entirely.

Nails threaten to puncture the soft skin of your palm, hands balled into tight fists on your lap. Every little poke and prod of Giorno’s comments further torments you, sending you into a spiral of never ending despair. Controlling your outward reactions is the bare minimum you can offer at the moment, too skittish to do anything else. Even the sight of delicious food in front of you sends your stomach churning, the scent of it bringing nausea rooted in crippling anxiety.

He has to know, right? Everything would make so much more sense if he did. It would explain this surreal, benevolent streak that emerged from him seemingly unprompted. It’s not that Giorno was ever outright cruel to you, until this point, you were given your space. No longer is that a luxury you can experience.

The past few days he’s been practically glued to your side, giving you no time to get your bearings. An unrelenting attack from all angles. It’s an impossible feat to maintain a facade of cluelessness like you were able to before.

Giorno tilts his head, still awaiting a proper answer. Gathering what remnants of strength that remain, you hurriedly utter to half the truth. “I-I haven’t been feeling well.”

This disclosure earns you a worried glance. He looks at you a moment longer -- as if searching for something -- before pulling back his chair. It groans against the wooden floor in protest, steady footsteps approaching you. Now by your side, he bends down to inspect you further. A tentative hand is placed to your forehead, assessing your condition from a closer perspective.

“You don’t feel warm.” he murmurs while retracting his hand, the action giving you a chance to breathe normally again. Does that mean he thinks you’re lying? Not giving you any further hints at his inner thoughts, Giorno stands by your seated form in silence. In hopes of avoiding suspicion, you come up with a rushed explanation.

“I’m tired, that’s all,” you scratch your cheek, finding difficulty in maintaining your composure. “It’s really nothing to worry about, Giorno. A few restless nights won’t do me in.”

If a physical ailment was bothering you, Giorno’s ability could serve to aid you. There isn’t anything his Stand can do for exhaustion though, not to your knowledge. He blinks, long eyelashes fluttering in the process. Whether he believes you or not is in the air. The topic is left to the wayside for now, much to your inner relief.

You had gotten sick once in the past. Even more freedoms were stolen from you, health professionals sworn to Passione monitoring you around the clock. Privacy was nonexistent, a true nightmare of an experience. It was only a mild fever, nothing that could cause any true harm. Giorno took it seriously, acting in an abundance of over protection until you recovered.

It won’t be ideal for you if that happens again. For almost a week you were forced to the confines of your bed, taking bitter medicines and eating only bland, nutritious food. That period of time made you go borderline stir crazy, having nothing to do aside from entertaining your malicious thoughts. If he’s thinking about putting you through that again, you’re unable to tell.

Composed and serene as ever, he takes your hand up from your lap with tender affection.

“[First]...” your name rolls off his tongue in a low tone, his deep voice and close proximity causing your pulse to quicken. “If there’s anything on your mind, know that you can come to me.”

Your breath hitches, all hairs on the back of your neck standing. So he has noticed, or believes your anguish is related to something other than physical illness. It makes more sense why he’s insisted on having you in his presence, to keep you in his sight. To make sure you’re not misbehaving.

The coarse pad of his thumb rubs over your hand in slow, methodical circles. Involuntarily, your hand begins to tremble. There’s not an opportunity to state your case against his words before he speaks up again, words intent on placating you.

“There must be something I can do for you. I hate seeing you troubled like this.”

You need to think of a diversion. Fast. He’s eroding your defenses, goading you into spilling the hideous truth of your disobedience. A small voice in your head pleads with you, whispering that maybe he’ll forgive you if you confess now. For you to beg for amnesty, claiming the depths of loneliness you’ve felt all this time. Would that cause him to take pity on you?

Or would you suffer greater lengths than before for your misdeeds?

Pushing down the temptation, a hopeful idea comes to mind. Deft fingers wrap around his hand, a tired smile on your lips. “You’re very considerate. It really isn’t anything bad, I’ve just had a few rough nights. I’ll try sleeping earlier tonight and seeing if that helps.”

Giorno gives your hand a final squeeze before pulling away. “Ah, of course. Whatever you feel is best.”

It’s a small victory, holding purpose to you. You can’t make any moves under his scrutinizing presence, the threat of alerting him by acting suspicious constant. He can’t be around like this forever, Giorno’s position requires constant attention. Even a few days into him not leaving the premises, you’re having trouble adjusting. It has to be a temporary arrangement, he won’t always be able to monitor you. When the opportunity presents itself, you’ll learn the truth about Marco.

You swear this to yourself.

“I’ve read that relaxing before going to bed helps with sleeping problems. Let’s walk around the gardens together, and see if that helps.” he phrases it like a suggestion, but you know better. It looks like you won’t be escaping Giorno’s presence anytime soon, an oasis of sleep slipping through your fingers like sand. Offering a meek nod instead of utilizing your voice, you mimic his previous actions and get up from your seat.

Giorno extends an arm to you, which you accept. It’s not that you want to, per se, it’s that you need to maintain the charade from before. Marco suggested to you that if you act less combative to your husband, he might grant you more freedoms. Which you desperately want to attain. In light of his sudden disappearance, it would be suspicious to stop acting like this. Reverting to your former harsh behavior won’t do anything good.

The new disposition worked in your favor. Instead of ignoring Giorno or cursing him like before, you acted tamer. And, as Marco predicted, some embargoes on your freedoms were steadily lifted. Acting like a loving wife to a man you feel nothing about animosity for isn’t an easy task. It’s a survival tactic.

You catch a whiff of Giorno’s light cologne, the scent dotting your skin with goosebumps. He’s always been a man of fine taste, you must confess. Once at his side, he begins to walk in the familiar direction of his outdoor gardens. The spot is a grandiose one, awe-inspiring flowers from all over the world appearing in full bloom. Even out of season plants are capable of flourishing, which you suspect is due to Giorno’s Stand.

For such a reprehensible person, he sure has a beautiful ability.

He looks lost in his own thoughts for most of the walk, and finally speaks up often a prolonged silence. “I’ve noticed how you enjoy your time in the gardens.”

Struggling to keep up with his pace and balance your rapid thoughts, you take a moment before responding. “Gardening is something I always wanted to try. When I first looked into it, I never realized how expensive a hobby it is.”

He hums in response, offering a moment of reprieve from stressful conversation.

When the two of you walk outdoors, you’re greeted by the crisp evening air. The sun is just beginning to set in the sky, warm colors embracing the expansive greenery. A main path leads up to an outdoor fountain, which emits a noise of rushing water. On either side of you are a variety of shrubs, pink and blue hydrangeas in bloom. A cicada beats its wings in the distance, a telltale time of summer.

The openness the outdoors brings with it a false sense of solace. You prefer this to the confining walls of inside Giorno’s mansion, which bring with them melancholic memories. A single aspect of this area has earned your ire, the large window above that is attached to his office. You’ve looked up to see Giorno watching over you for a few seconds. Further cementing the idea that you’re never truly alone.

Silence settles in between the two of you, weaving through winding paths and mossy stone arches. This is a part of the garden you don’t come to as often, you notice. Rounding a final corner around some hedges, you spot a stunning collection of flowers that must be new. From a dark center, pointed petals emerge, jet black in color with hints of crimson on the edges.

Giorno pauses to observe the mesmerizing blossoms as well, reaching out to inspect a petal. As soon as he touches it, his lips curl into a frown, almost like he’s remembering something. “A few days ago, I decided I wanted this addition. I got what I needed to grow it this morning.”

You thought that Gold Experience could create life from anything, so it doesn’t make sense to you why he needed to wait for the arrival of something. Maybe even Stands have limits? Any desire to ask about it is stifled by the fact that you’re talking to Giorno, curiosity fizzling out as fast as it sparked.

He pulls a handkerchief out from a pocket within his suit, and wipes off his fingers that had touched the flower.

“Black dahlias. It isn’t a flower most people would associate with summer, but I found myself interested in them.” he offers a look into his inner thoughts, a rare occurrence. You wait patiently, sensing he has more to say.

“All plants have different meanings, some even having their own folklore. Tell me, [First], what do you believe black dahlias represent?”

A perplexing question. Not wanting to offer a halfhearted answer in fear of being reprimanded, you give it some thought. Darker colors typically symbolize negative feelings, at least in literature. It’s possible the same logic applies here. In the distant past, you’d read online about an unsolved murder case in America by the name of The Black Dahlia. It seems anything with the name can’t be a good omen.

Humming in thought, you offer the best guess you can concoct. “I’m not the best with stuff like this… if I had to guess, I’d say it means suffering. Or something to that effect.”

“Very close. Not quite,” Giorno’s eyes betray the calm delivery of his words, a hidden storm within. “What black dahlias symbolize… is betrayal.”

You’d swallow if you could.

In a single instance, it feels like all the air has been forcibly punched from your lungs, body going numb and blood running cold as ice. Every ounce of strength that hasn’t been sapped from you goes to keeping your knees from buckling, mouth dry and tongue like sandpaper. He doesn’t blink, waiting patiently to see what your next move will be.

He knows. You don’t know how, but he knows. Similar to how a predator toys with its prey before devouring it, he’s testing you. Gauging for a reaction, savouring the guilt that rolls off you in palpable waves. Options and time are limited, both a dry well as he expects a response.

Your resolve begins to wilt, perishing under the harsh conditions it's been placed. Roots crumbling and petals falling to the ground, it’s a competition within your mind to see what thought will win. Marco risked his own livelihood in order to give you companionship, to make you feel human again. Can you stay afloat under this immense pressure?

With unexpected speed, you decide. There’s no backing down now. You’ll see this treacherous charade through until the bitter end. It’s what you owe to him, what you owe to yourself. If it’s games that Giorno wants to play, then so be it.

“My guess was close then, wasn’t it?” you force a light laugh at the end of your sentence, straightening your posture and giving him your best smile. Within the depths of his countenance is an unidentifiable emotion, his jaw tight and eyes studying. All intensity melts away within an instant, the Giorno you’re used to seeing reappearing in front of you.

“Yes, yes it was.”

Without his prompting to do so, you wrap your arms around his arm once again. Letting out a soft exhale, you speak up, hoping to rid yourself of this tense atmosphere. “A walk was just the thing I needed. I feel better already, still a little tired though…”

It isn’t a regular occurrence that you touch Giorno of your own will. You can’t remember the last time you’d done it, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He subtly leans into your touch, welcoming the warmth it brings. Hope erupts within your chest, that you can still play innocent and get away with your grievances.

Now that you’ve been removed from the moment, your mind is clearer. Capable of reasoning with itself, instead of scrambling to react. It’s a possibility that Giorno has an inkling of suspicion, and nothing solid to grasp it. Giving yourself up and playing right into his hand is exactly what he wants, and you adamantly refuse to do it. It’s shameful that you even thought about giving up, even if it was only for a brief moment.

It could be the fried nerves, that you find yourself rambling more than you normally do. “I never asked, but how was your day? You always ask me about mine, so it seems right that I’d return the favor.”

“Busy, not much more than usual though. I regret not being able to join you for breakfast. I had... something to attend to.” Giorno reminisces back to this morning, tone lighter than before. It looks like your hunch of him not knowing anything concrete could be true. A passing breeze ruffles through your hair, cool air serving to calm you down more.

You can do this. You’ll make it through the storm, and find out the truth on your own terms.

“There’s always tomorrow,” you gently tug at his arm, back in the direction of the house. “Can we… can we head back? I still want to try and sleep, even if it’s early.”

Never one to deny you anything, he starts the walk back, and you follow suit. “I’ve never seen you this talkative before, [First].”

You’ve never felt the need to talk this much until now. Rambling about nonsensical topics gives your overwhelmed brain a much needed reprieve. If there’s anything good you have to say about Giorno, it’s that he’s an excellent listener. Never interrupting, always offering his full attention. He never offers his input more than he sees necessary.

The comment doesn’t feel like a pointed one, rather a truthful observation. You let out a sigh.

“I’ve always had a lot to say,” you start with a purse of your lips, mindful of yourself. But I hate you. “Once you get me talking, you’ll miss the days I was quiet.”

He doesn’t buy into the self derogatory statement, and shakes his head. “I could never tire of hearing your voice.”

You open your mouth, only to close it again. Warmth erupts onto your face, the genuine delivery of a line only Giorno could deliver properly. Displays of heartfelt fondness leave you taken aback, never allowing you to understand the man by your side. How can he say in good conscience that he loves you, while taking you from everything you’ve ever known?

Giorno Giovanna, who you’ve spent a little over a year with, is still an enigma to you.

When you spoke with Marco, rarely did either of you bring him up. Out of respect for your feelings, you guess. On the rare occasion you did ask a question about Giorno, there weren’t any clear answers. All he knows is that Giorno took over Passione at a young age, and issued wide reform of the gang that extends worldwide.

The fact is an intimidating one, since he’s so close to you.

Now back inside, evening has settled in. Long halls are deserted of any life, only you and Giorno occupying them. It’s off putting, you can’t think of the last time you’ve seen this home so empty. There must be someone here, if your meals were made. Other than that, the only human being you’ve seen is Giorno.

Your shared master bedroom is on the second floor, and after an uneventful trip, he holds the large doors open for you to enter first.

Lavish and not obnoxious in its designs, this room is where you spent all your time when you first arrived. Not of your own will, since you were antagonistic. Looking at the custom glass windows, it brings back memories of desperately trying to break them with different furniture. Then the noise of doing so getting you in even more trouble.

Next was an iron shackle against your ankle, metal cold against your skin and uncomfortable.

Compared to that, you should feel like your current condition is better. Now it’s mental strain instead of physical. There never is rest for the weary.

Hands of the grandfather clock in your room read 8:24 PM. Your guess is that Giorno will dismiss himself any moment now, heading to his office and giving you much needed space. It’s an unspoken routine that you’ve fallen into. Though you ultimately sleep in the same bed at night, Giorno doesn’t join you until much later, if at all. Being in charge of Passione is a full time commitment.

With a muted thud, the door closes behind you. Giorno draws the curtains over the windows shut, cutting off what little sunlight shone through. Fully mesmerized with his graceful actions, you find yourself staring. It’s when he starts unzipping the top of his royal blue suit that you realize he isn’t intending to leave anytime soon.

Looking for something to preoccupy yourself with, you get ready for bed yourself. The marble ground of the master bathroom feels cold against your bare feet, causing you to shiver and mutter a quiet curse. After brushing your teeth, you open the door to see Giorno still getting changed, bare back facing towards you. Why is he still here?

Reading your thoughts, he turns around, white pajama shirt in hand. “Is something wrong, [First]? You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.”

He can be teasing when he wants, much to your chagrin. Sucking in a deep breath, you give your honest thoughts in a strained voice. “It’s just, I thought you’d have work to do.”

“I’ve taken care of what I need to today,” he lifts the plain shirt over his head while he speaks, the material stretching against his defined muscles. “So, I’ll spend time with mi cara. It’s been a trying week.”

Well, that makes two of us.

His last comment makes you curious. Giorno isn’t the type to complain, if he sees a problem he dedicates himself to fixing it. What is it that managed to earn an admission like that? You’ll test your luck and press further, seeing if you learn anything. It could be related to Marco’s disappearance.

“Trying…?” you repeat back, testing the word on your tongue. Giorno pulls his braid over his shoulder, and you recognize what that means. Before he gets the opportunity to fiddle with the restraints himself, you walk over to his side and start on it. He allows you to do so, shoulders relaxing as you pull the hair tie out.

“I shouldn’t burden you unnecessarily.”

His golden hair is like silk between your fingers, having a light floral scent. You furrow your eyebrows while working through undoing the braid, combing through it. He subtly leans into your touch, eyelids fluttering close at your soothing maneuvers. Prying the truth from him will take more effort.

“It’s not a burden.” you reassure, pulse quickening at the anticipation his silence brings. Worst case scenario, he’ll deflect again and you’ll drop the subject. Feeling inquisitive leaves you unsatisfied, Giorno opting to leave you in the dark about most matters.

“There was a plot uncovered, relating to you.”

Your actions cease, body frozen on the spot.

“It was a threat on your life to weaken me. This morning, everything was taken care of, so you have nothing to worry about. That’s the reason I’ve been working from home the past few days,” he runs a hand through his hair, and turns to face your stunned form. “I’d never allow any harm to befall you. New staff will be replacing the previous one, there’s nothing to disprove that they weren’t all involved.”

“A few workers were going to get close to you, and draw out information about me. Then... ah, well. It doesn’t matter now.”

What he’s saying makes logical sense. You’re the wife of a powerful man, who has more enemies than you could ever hope to count. Your mind drifts to Marco, and the time that you had spent with him. A seed of doubt is planted within you, knowing that Giorno distrusted his former staff enough to get rid of all of them. Those men and women were tested vigorously, so for him to now distrust them...

That leaves a single, haunting question that you don’t want to entertain. Was Marco getting close to you, with the sole purpose of murdering you at the best opportunity? It… it can’t be like that. You spent hours by his side, laughing and reminiscing over snacks and games. He told you about his family, the misfortune that befell his sweet sister, his inner conflict of working for Giorno at your expense.

When Marco rarely spoke of Giorno, he did ask a few questions about his routine. You thought it was so the two of you could speak together with ease, and sneak around.

You had cared for him. In the deepest sentiment your broken heart could conjure, you really did. It was the highlight of your day, what you looked forward to every morning when you woke up. The reassurance he would offer, giving you that extra push to carry on your miserable parody of a life.

Mouth agape, no words can form on your dry tongue. Giorno must mistake your inner conflict for worry over the undone plot on your life, running his hands up and down your arms. He pulls you into a hug in hopes of comforting your shaking form, and you hate yourself for accepting it.

Nothing makes sense. This has to be a trick, a cruel misunderstanding. Why has the universe seen fit to toss and turn you at every chance, jostling your being to the core. Vacillating between two sides of yourself, the one that wants to believe him and the one that doesn’t.

Wetness drips down your cheeks, finally breaking down. You sniffle against his shoulder, even more upset with yourself for willingly accepting his embrace. It’s not that the thought of death bothered you, it’s what your trust was broken. Was everything Marco told you a ruse?

You don’t know. You suppose no one other than the aforementioned person knows, if he’s still alive. It’s embarrassing, truly humiliating to know you told him the secrets of yourself. All for it to amount to nothing, a dagger twisting into your side repeatedly.

Giorno hushes you, pulling you tighter against him. He coos sweet words into your ear, now rubbing the small of your back. You take all of him in, accepting him in a moment of profound weakness. There’s deep pain, first, then nothing. Emotions come to a halt, numbness settling in as you cease weeping.

What is there to feel now?

Soft lips press against your forehead, Giorno offering a chaste kiss. This amount of physical affection is the most he’s ever given you at once, now offering you all of himself. Too weak to protest, you close your eyes, wanting to sleep and never worry about anything again.

Why try anymore.

Giorno... did he speak the complete truth? That you can only trust him? He’s given you everything you could ask for, always turning the other cheek when you lashed out at him. He loves you, in his own twisted way. Even after all the rejection you spewed at him, he loves you still.

“Amore, oh amore,” he whispers into your ear, warm breath causing you to shudder. He pulls back from your amorous embrace, taking your face in his thumb and lifting it. “I’ll take care of everything. Come, let’s get you cleaned up for the night. You must be tired, hm?”

So, so tired. Of everything. Of this life you live.

Arms sneak around your shaking torso once more, and he places his head atop yours. Tears are gone for now, a well long dried up. Now, you stand and shake. Head devoid of coherent thoughts, limp against him. He holds you up, keeping you steady.

You close your eyes. Has Giorno always smelled this pleasant? It’s starting to grow on you. Your ear is against his chest, his skin pressed against your own. Listening carefully, you hear the steady thump of his heart. The one before that you thought to place a knife through, now bringing you solace.

What a joke this world is.

Giorno accepts you, always. Like he said time and time again, the words now settling in. You mutter something against his chest, voice seemingly inaudible. Even you are uncertain of what they are, yet he seems to understand nonetheless.

And he smiles, content.

#giorno #giorno giovanna x reader #yandere giorno #yandere giorno giovanna #yandere giorno giovanna x reader #yandere giorno x reader #Giorno Giovanna #giovanna giorno #giorno x reader #JoJo's Bizzare Adventure #jojo's bizarre adventures #yandere jojo's bizzare adventure #yandere jojo x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff #commissions

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turtletimewriting · 3 years

Note

Wait Can you do OTP questions for Moxiety please?

1. Who has the cutest tickle laugh?

Aw man this is super tough. In all honesty, I think both of them are utterly completely in love with the other’s love.

Virgil’s laugh is so joyous and so carefree, just the opposite of how he portrays himself. Patton just falls in love with Virgil all over again every time he hears it and that’s why he makes sure to hear that laugh every single day.

Patton’s laugh is exactly how you would think it would be. It’s purely childish, carefree, belly laughs with the occasional ear-splitting shriek. His face always goes all red and scrunchy. It’s so much more adorable than you expect, even after years of tickle fights and giggle fits.

2. Who is ticklish in unusual places and where would that be?

Patton has some adorably ticklish ears. But, to make it weirder, his right ear is soooooo much more ticklish. It’s not often that Virgil gets the chance to properly tickle them as much as they deserve but he makes sure to treasures the moments he can. There’s no greater joy than taking a fluffy feather and curling around his right ear while whispering teases into his other ear. Seeing them slowly glow bright red, is worth tickling them alone but of course the frantic giggling and wimpy “stop!”s and “it tickles!” also makes it worth tickling them every chance Virgil can get. When he’s bored/anxious, they’re the perfect distraction and fidgeting thing.

3. Who gets cheer-up tickles?

To put a spin on this, Virgil always gets the cheer-up tickles but Patton also gets a weird moment of calm when tickling Virgil. To cheer-up Patton, you need to let him tickle you. When they’re both stressed or upset, they will curl up in their pjs under the bed blankets and Patton will slowly start to tickle Virgil. They’ll spoon and gentle tracing around his tummy will slowly turn into digging scribbles as he pins his arms down and holds his top up. For Virgil, letting himself laugh and relax into Patton’s firm cuddle is so grounding and distracting. For Patton, focusing on the tickles and knowing that no matter what Virgil will love him and he can always make Virgil laugh and look over him.

4. Who takes advantage of the other one getting their arms stuck while taking off their shirt?

Patton is the ultimate tickle monster and will deliberately look for every single opportunity to give some tickles to his grumpy emo storm cloud! Virgil is useless in the morning and just fumbles around until things work. It’s not unusual for Patton to take pity and help him put his jumpers on. But, of course, his help comes with the fact of life that he will scribble down his sides as he pulls the jumper down. Oh and look this jumper is tightly stuck so it’s taking awhile. Oh please stand still Virge, I’ve just got to get it unstuck from the exact middle of your armpits. Lots of teasing which is really unfair as Virgil’s brain as yet to load and he’s forced to just stand there and try not to fall. He can’t even try to fight back, he’s just got to stand there and make sure his knees don’t melt.

5. How did they discover each other’s ticklishness?

I don’t know why this sudden image came to me but! I can just imagine Patton cleaning the house after a good baking session and he pulled out a feather duster. He was practically glowing as he realised he must look like a 1950s housewife. Patton dances around the living room while twirling this feather duster. Virgil walks in and he jokingly swats him with the duster. Now, Virgil was wearing a thick jumper as per usual. There was no way it could possibly tickle. But yet his mind just panicked. He is the epitome of flight and fight. His brain convinces him that Patton somehow discovered his greatest secret and he must fight back. So he grabs the duster and quickly shoves it under Patton’s top to which Patton then immediately buckles and starts squealing. Virgil ends up tickling the snot out of his boyfriend.

Afterwards, Patton asks just what on earth sparked that moment of playfulness and Virgil instinctually answers that he thought Patton would tickle him first. Which of course results a duster being shoved up his jumper in revenge.

6. Who can’t take tickle bites?

Patton but not really for the reasons to be expected. He can take tickle bites but his ultimate weakness is raspberries. And he knows for a fact that if Virgil is doing tickle bites then raspberries are coming. The instant Virgil puts his mouth on him, he screaming and wiggling even faster. So Virgil uses tickle bites as anticipation for raspberries which makes them absolutely unbearable for Patton.

7. Who has to be tickle-forced out of bed in the morning?

As mentioned earlier, Virgil is useless in the morning but Patton wants them both to wake up at the same time just like in all the love films and books. It becomes a game between them. Patton will wake up and still see his darling boyfriend dead to the world in his arms and he will gently tickle up and down his sides. “Oh, just how I love waking up to these summer mornings with my darling boyfriend, who’s definitely awake and enjoying the morning with me. You can tell he’s awake and ready for the beautiful day awaiting us because he’s just giggling at the thought of enjoying today!”.

8. Who gives up in a tickle fight?

Surprisingly Patton. Patton enjoys tickles with absolutely no shame, maybe some embarrassment and blushing but he will “oh no!” become suddenly weak and helpless and so forced to sit there and just enjoy those tingly tickles. Sometimes, even he he is fighting back, he will deliberately stop for a second to just enjoy Virgil’s giggles as he wrecks his tickle monster boyfriend. He just wants to enjoy the open joy Virgil is feeling. If Patton has one ultimate weakness, it would be Virgil. He’d take all the tickles in the world to see Virgil having fun and messing about.

9. Who is in danger of getting hurt when attacking the other?

Virgil is the most danger when tickling Patton. Patton always wants to enjoy his tickles and so he tries with all of his might and strength to enjoy them and sit still. But, he’s not very strong. Virgil will think Patton is just lying there and will focus on his tickling and then suddenly it becomes too much and Patton kicks out violently with no warning. Virgil has had quite a few bruises from Patton to which Patton almost cries over hurting him.

10. Who always provokes the other into tickling them and how?

Hmm, a bit of both. Virgil knows that tickling someone is a great stress release for Patton and so he will go through subtle hints like “oh my foot is super itchy” or “could you give me a massage” to some outright storming into his room with his shirt pulled up and his tummy proudly showing to the world. There have been times where Virgil thinks that Patton is more stressed than he is but Patton will never turn down a blushing Virgil asking for tickles.

For Patton, he thinks he’s super subtle but he’s really not. He’s the one to wear an outfit to ‘hint’ at tickles. Virgil will be eating his bowl of cereal, slowing waking up, and Patton will walk in with short shorts, a crop top and knee high socks with ‘tickle me’ written across the soles. Subtle, obviously. It’s through this that Patton actually realises that he loves knee high socks and he loves that tracing over them makes things so much more ticklish! Soft tickles don’t really work for him for him on bare soles but the soft tickles over the fluffy socks really get him!

#patton sanders #virgil sanders #Tickling #TurtleTalking #headcanon #moxiety #lee virgil #ler virgil #Lee Patton #ler patton

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judediangelo75 · 3 years

Text

Day Three: Birthday

Fun fact: October 17th is my actual birthday, I don’t know if anyone else gave their MC the same birthday as them 😅 but I did. I didn’t realize that it was also Professor Flitwick’s birthday until last year.

Which I found pretty cool. If my character was a Ravenclaw (I was gonna choose between Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, that was her Hat Stall), she would’ve spent time in his office, eating cupcakes with him.

---------------

~1990~

Talbott bit his lip as he stared at the calendar in his dorm room.

Today was October 17th.

In previous years when he became a student at Hogwarts, he wouldn’t really bat an eye at this.

He would normally would tell his Head of House happy birthday and spend some time in his office.

So what makes this day suddenly different?

It was Judith’s birthday as well.

His girlfriend’s birthday.

For all the years that he known her, never once did he know when was her birthday. Until their night at the greenhouse on Valentine’s Day.

He just missed her 16th birthday.

When she saw the look of sadness in his eyes, she immediately tried to console him, telling him not to worry about it.

“It’s been many years since I last cared about my birthday, Talbott. Don’t worry about it. It’s just another day to me.”

She never elaborated further, so he went to the next best source. Her dead father.

With Penny’s help, he managed to sneak into the Hufflepuff Common Room and dormitories. Once in her room, he found the safe she showed him under her bed. Whispering the password, he was happy to find the signature shark tooth necklace the deceased man wore inside.

Touching the tooth, he stood face to face with the elder Harris.

After explaining why he was there, Kendrick looked down at the Ravenclaw youth with sad eyes.

“The year of Judith’s 9th birthday was a hard one on her, Talbott. Jamal ran away exactly two weeks afterwards. Not too long after that I contracted my heart virus and died with her in my arms. Her mother doesn’t really care for her, often forgetting her birthday entirely. That’s when she virtually stopped caring. If I could come back just one year to put a smile on my little girl’s face, I would...”

It made sense as to why his little bird didn’t celebrate it or even make it known to anyone.

Two of the people she expected to be there, to see her grow, were gone. With her brother’s disappearance, yet again, he wouldn’t be surprised if she truly didn’t give a damn about the day.

Especially this year.

He was more determined to make this year different.

He thought long and hard for the past few weeks for what he can do for her. What he could give her.

Judith wasn’t a person who expects anything. Let alone asks for anything.

He’s come to know his girlfriend well enough.

The girl was both practical and sentimental.

She prefers things that she knows she can use or something that has a hidden value.

He had a few ideas leading up to the day...

He just hoped that she’ll like them.

--------

Talbott was on a manhunt for his girlfriend.

He barely saw her at breakfast and hasn’t seen her since he finished Herbology class for the day. He asked her Head of House if she seen her.

“Why, yes I have actually. She usually spends time with Professor Flitwick today. Since the two share the same birthday. And that she usually hides out from Miss Brown. I believe you can find them in the Charms classroom.”

Thanking the older witch, he heard off to the Charms classroom.

Standing in front of the door, Talbott took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Professor Flitwick,” he called. The short man in question was standing on top of his stack of books.

“Mr. Winger! What a lovely surprise,” his Head of House greeted with a smile.

“Happy birthday, Professor,” Talbott said with a small smile. The older wizard let out a laugh.

“Why thank you, my dear boy. To what do I owe to this visit?” Talbott blushed as he rubbed the back of his neck. It looks like Judith wasn’t here...

“I was wondering have you seen your birthday twin,” he shyly asked. Professor Flitwick paused and let out another laugh.

“Ah, so Miss Harris has told you? Well, it shouldn’t surprise me, you two are dating after all,” Flitwick smirked. Talbott felt a blush rising to his cheeks.

“Yes... but have you seen her?” Before the man could answer, something landed on Talbott’s shoulder, nuzzling against his cheek.

A Black Sparrowhawk.

Talbott smiled.

“Hello, little bird,” he said softly, scratching under his girlfriend chin. The bird preened and cooed before flying on ground and transforming back into the Hufflepuff witch he came to adore.

“Happy birthday, Judith,” Talbott smiled shyly at his little girlfriend. The girl’s lips spread into a smile.

“Thank you, love,” she said. Talbott glanced at his Head of House.

“Professor, do you think I can be alone with Judith for moment?” The former Dueling Champion smiled at the young couple before him. Just a few years old, Judith was confessing her feelings towards his student. And now the two were happily together.

“Of course, Mr. Winger. Good day, Miss Harris. And happy birthday.” The young witch and wizard thanked the man as he made his way out of the room.

‘Ah, young love...’ he mused quietly to himself.

Once Professor Flitwick was gone, Judith turned to her boyfriend with an arched brow.

“Something wrong, love,” she asked. Talbott shook his head, a blush staining his cheeks.

“You know how I am with people around...” Judith took note of his hand reaching into his pocket, pulling out a neatly folded sheet of paper.

“What’s that?” Talbott swallowed, hoping to calm his nerves.

“I wrote you a poem... for your birthday...” Judith’s brows shot up to her hairline. She remembered Talbott telling her that he wrote poetry back in their third year, when they were trying to find his necklace.

He wrote something for her?

“Would you like to hear it,” Talbott asked slowly as he unfolded the piece of paper. He never read any of his poems to anyone before.

To say that he was nervous would the biggest understatement of century.

“Yes...” Judith didn’t understand why she felt breathless, but something felt different about this. This moment felt rather intimate...

Talbott cleared his throat and began to read.

“Your name is like the sweetest honey on my lips,

You radiate with confidence with each sway of your hips...

With a single look with those mystical gold eyes, I am lost,

With the warmth of your smile, my heart slowly defrosts...

I constantly long to be by your side,

Be the one who you would confide...

Your secrets, your troubles, your beautiful heart,

Allow me to learn your mind, heart, and body like a unique piece of art...

I want to be the one who kisses away your tears,

The one who protects you from your darkest fears...

I want to be the one who holds you close,

For the all the times you desire it the most...”

Talbott can feel her eyes burning into him as he read his poem, doing his best not to blush.

Which failed tremendously as he went on to read the next part.

"Mystical gold eyes, you have charmed my heart to its knees,

Can't you see what you do to me?

Your beautiful dark curls resemble an ancient waterfall,

The way how you look flawlessly breathtaking, no matter where the strands fall...

You possess sunshine within your beautiful smile,

Its loving warmth and brilliance make me want to bask in it for a while...

Your dark skin resembles milk chocolate: smooth, delicate and sweet,

With my undeniable sweet tooth, you might be my new favorite treat...

I desire to hear your lovely voice next to me every morning,

Feel your kisses along the planes of my face, lazily exploring...

I yearn to turn over in the early hours to listen to the melody that is your heartbeat,

Knowing I can find peace in that gentle melody and fall back fall asleep...

I wish to learn every dip and curve your body,

Whether it's to simply hold you or to worship you like you were someone godly...

I always look forward to receiving your sweet kiss,

For I believe you have the lips of an angel and can bring my soul eternal bliss...

Judith faintly wondered if her face looked as red as Talbott’s as he read this part. She raised a hand to one of her enflamed cheeks.

Never had she ever heard someone bare their feelings to her like this. She knows that Talbott is a rather private person.

She knew how he felt about her, but he shows it through more quiet gestures.

This was... wow...

“Sweet little bird,

What is this sad song I heard?

So heartfelt but heartbroken,

You feel pain that never seems to stop growing...

Heartbreak resides in your mystical gold eyes,

The same eyes of your father who now resides somewhere in the skies.

Beloved, turn those eyes to the sky,

Listen to the voices of your wise grandmother and dear father and fly high...

When you begin to feel alone,

Feel my arms around you and take comfort in my cologne.

When tears fall down your cheeks,

I’ll be there with the comfort your wounded heart seeks.

When you feel like all love is gone,

Then let my love be your new dawn.

My dear Judith, I wish to forever call you mine,

Let us create a love more addicting than the sweetest wine...

Queen of my Heart,

I await for the day where we’ll come together in matrimony and never part...

Happy birthday, my dearest beloved,

Know that while I don’t say much, that you are forever loved...”

Talbott finally finished his poem with a beet red face and slightly shaky hands. He wasn’t prepared for the full body tackle of his girlfriend, causing both of them to fall to the floor.

“Jud-MHM?!” Burgundy painted lips silenced the confused Ravenclaw. Her hands cupped his face as she straddled his hips.

Despite the intimate position and her sudden kiss, Talbott melted into her. The embrace was slow and passionate, the two unhurried as they explored each other’s secret spots.

A hand massaging her lower back.

Another caressing the delicate skin of her neck.

One hand toying with the hair on the nape of his neck.

It’s dancing along his abdomen.

The demand of oxygen finally made itself known and the two separated.

“I love it, thank you for sharing this with me,” she whispered, looking into those red eyes she’s come to love.

“Of course, darling. Anything for you,” he said softly, pecking her sweet lips. The girl let out a small giggle as she got off him.

The two stood at full height, readjusting their clothes so they looked presentable. Talbott picked up the paper that fell out of his hand and handed it to her. The girl took it with a blush on her cheeks.

“I still have more planned for today,” he told her with a kiss to her temple.

Judith narrowed her eyes at him.

“What did I tell you about my birthday,” she asked. Talbott chuckled.

“I remember what you said. But you’re not gonna stop me from trying to make it special for you,” he said. He can the locket that he intends on giving her later on in evening.

She sighed.

“Fine,” she huffed. Talbott chuckled.

“Happy birthday, little bird. I love you.” A small smile tugged on the Hufflepuff’s lips defiantly.

“I love you too, bird boy. And thank you...”

#30dayswritingchallenge #hphm #hphm jacobs sibling #hphm mc #hphm talbott #hphm talbott winger #talbott winger #judith harris #talbott x mc #talbott x jacob's sibling #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery talbott #hogwarts mystery mc #jacob's sibling #jacob's sister #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hufflepuff!mc #ravenclaw x hufflepuff

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laws-yellow-submarine · 4 years

Text

🌠Shooting Stars🌠

An entry for the One Piece Summer challenge!

Law x Reader

Prompt: Stargazing Word Count: 1.6k

Synopsis: While travelling on the Polar Tang, you don't usually stay afloat for long. However, a starry night is too tempting...

♡

Summer.

Does it really matter?

Your head prompted on your palm, you were lost in the vagueness of the ocean. It was one of the few days that the Polar Tang would stay afloat in the middle of the sea. Actually, tonight, was a special night; the sky was a dark canvas painted with falling stars, decorated with brushstrokes of unmethodical, colourful patterns and dancing spots everywhere.

Even the air, it brought the salty aroma on deck, filling your lungs with it and cheering you up. You would never get used to it... and it was always such a pain to let it out of your system...

Travelling in a submarine had forever been quite depressing. The empty spaces were blocking any source of light from entering, therefore transforming themselves into a cloistered prison. You felt so cooped up sometimes, like a caged bird. Not even the palliative company of your nakama could alleviate the gloomy mood that was slowly eating you away.

Every single time you disappeared into the depths of the bottomless sea, it was as if the time froze. There was no morning, noon, nor afternoon. There was no spring, summer, autumn, nor winter. There was only the black of night.

Unlit and shadowy, it swallowed everything in its wake, you included.

You had always lived in the open air, enjoyed the blessings of nature, the warmth of the sun caressing your body and somehow driving all your preoccupations away. That's the very reason you became a pirate, to begin with.

If it weren't for those silver eyes, you wouldn't be here. Trafalgar Law, the Surgeon of Death, had managed to get his hands gripped around your heart, squeezing for all they were worth, leaving you aching with longing and a breath stuck in your throat. You knew he was no good but, there was something in him... something... hypnotising, that you simply couldn't ignore.

Even though the feeling of drowning in the blackness between the walls had been torturing you ever since you begun your journey, the mysterious glimmer in his look dragged you out of your fear and anguish. He was always by your side, in his own way.

A great Captain, indeed.

Yet, you couldn't omit the fact that something was seriously troubling him the past few weeks. He always had a tendency to isolate himself in his cabin, reading books and making research on medical grounds -- his muttering jargon under his breath confirming that -- but he didn't use to be that distant.

Especially tonight, when the scenery above you was remarkable to the point where one could literally gawk with their mouth hanging open. He would never miss a rain of falling stars.

"They remind of someone... special." he would always say.

You wanted to ask him, delve deeper into his obscure past, yet, he was too reserved. He kept his feelings and thoughts to himself, you highly doubt he could trust even his first mate. However, it was evident in his indolent eyes, an agony, a tremendous feeling, deeply rooted in his soul.

That you could tell, for the eyes are the window to the soul... And this man's eyes... they held many sorrowful secrets...

What with all this thoughts swirling around your head, you lost your grip on the reality, so you never noticed the lovable white bear of the crew standing next to you.

Bepo.

You never understood why he would want to become a pirate and leave his life in the Mokomo Dukedom behind, a place fraught with peace-loving, cheerful creatures. Maybe he was curious to see what was beyond that land.

Come to think of it, the entire crew is quite absurd.

But I love them anyways.

The way the salty breeze messed with his fur was making him look even more adorable.

"Aren't those stars beautiful?" he asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Yes, they are."

The previous silence took over once again, until...

"Uh, Bepo... Do you know where the Captain is? I mean..." you tried to sound as indifferent as possible, "...he never misses this."

You saw no reaction for some seconds.

"He was working in his cabin... I guess he'll come soon..."

A voiceless nod of agreement and then you were sinking in your thoughts anew.

You didn't have the foggiest idea how long you had been staring at the starry horizon. The moon seemed gigantic now, the only embellishment that begged to differ in that symmetry of white and black.

Bepo had departed some minutes ago, because he couldn't stare at the full moon for too long, as he couldn't control his Sulong form completely.

So, for the moment, you were standing alone behind the railing of the submarine, admiring the view and the expansion of dark blue stretching in front of you. It was so relaxing, you couldn't get enough of it.

Until a certain tattooed hand was placed on your shoulder.

"Oi, (Y/n)."

You turned to face the long awaited raven-haired pirate.

"Yes, Captain?"

His touch immediately abandoned you and his grey eyes narrowed. "How many times do I have to tell you? You don't have to call me captain. Just call me Law."

You tried to look away, but he was pinning you with his intense and demanding look. You couldn't help but simply nod to avoid any more of... this.

I could easily drown in these pools of silver...

He stood beside you, supporting himself on the railing while he took an eyeful of the scene ahead. At first, you didn't pay too much attention to him but tried to focus elsewhere. You didn't manage to stay like that for long, though.

You took glances of your captain now and then, curious to witness all his reactions to this boon. You saw his grey orbs meeting the pale one in the sky and glowing in delight, then a weak smile bending his lips.

He looked at the moon as if it was a person; a person he held dear.

"Law."

He averted his star-kissed gaze slowly, reluctantly, until it locked with yours. "Yes?"

"That special someone you had told me about... do you want to talk about them?" you asked timidly, eyeing him expectantly, albeit you practically knew you'd get negative answer.

"It's a very old and long story."

Is he actually going to talk about it?!

He paused for some good moments, making you reasonably think that he had no intention of giving more details, but... he had.

He didn't exactly give you chapter and verse of his backstory, but he explained how he lost his entire family and hometown due to Amber Lead Syndrome, how he ended up in the Donquixote Pirates, how the noble and kind Cora-san sacrificed himself to save him....

You always sensed he'd got a dark background but, that was just too dark. How could a child possibly endure all this losses and trauma at once?

However, he never ceased his recounting. He went on, revealed more about his experiences, his life. Until, a shocking exposure was made and pretty much explained everything.

The Will of D.

He, Trafalgar Law, was carrying the tremendous Will of D. Well, that pretty much accounted for everything.

"But why are you telling me all this?"

He shifted, his grey eyes boring into yours in a vertiginous labyrinth.

"I'll be leaving soon." he replied, his tone colder than before.

"What?! Why?!"

"I need to take care of certain things... and now that we are in the New World... you know that we either go against or ally with the Emperors..."

"And whose side are we on?" you enquired, still struggling to process all these information.

"It's too early for you to know..." he grabbed you by your shoulders, gazing fiercely at you, "...but you needn't worry..." he said, his voice softening as well as his sharp features.

A hefty sigh escaped from your lips, before you glanced at the stars. You were fixated there, observing them make their steady descent, leaving trails of glimmering starlight behind.

"Do you want to make a wish?"

Law's frown was followed by a chuckle. "Isn't that too childish?"

"No, come on! The shooting stars don't stay for long!"

He closed his eyes in defeat, probably wishing for something. His hands hadn't abandoned your shoulders, not even then. You waited patiently for the moment his steel grey gaze met yours and you almost melted on the spot.

"What did you wish for?"

"I can't tell you..." he reminded you, his lips stretching into a mischievous smile.

Right.

"...but I can show you." was all he said, before his soft lips landed on yours.

Taken by surprise, could be an understatement. It felt so surreal, it gave you the impression you were hallucinating. It was all slow and passionate, with the dull light of the stars showering you, the low splash of the waves resonating and the slight rocking of the Polar Tang dolling it all up.

Hell, even the scratching of his goatee against your glabrous chin was alluring. You were swimming in a pool of bliss by now, unable and unwilling to get out. You knew it wasn't going to last long yet, you flung yourself into it. You were only a couple of hours away from being trapped in that cage of darkness again, but now you didn't seem to care.

Now you knew.

Summer matters.

Because I'm the summer to his winter heart.

~End~

----- OMG this was so cute <3 Law, shooting stars, and kissing are like...three of my favorite things lmao “I can’t tell you...but I can show you” GAH! I died, my face has been squished in happiness, and I’m still squealing. Great job, hun!!

@doctorgerth

#[email protected]#one piece of summer #trafalgar law #stargazing #reader insert #one piece #summer #submission

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loverdrew · 4 years

Text

Promise You Won’t Fall In Love With Me II

Part 1

He never knew love. He never understood relationships. He never imagined his life after high school or outside of his fame. She was the opposite. She deeply loved her family, she had ambition, intelligence and drive. They were the complete opposite, but together, they wouldn’t know what to do without each other.

Inspired by the movie A Walk To Remember.

Ethan had come over to Y/N’s house the day after getting their roles, her father seeming practically disgusted by him as he sat in the living room awaiting her. Her father stared him down with crossed arms.

“You know Ethan, I know you’ll be spending some time with my daughter because of this play but that doesn’t mean I particularly like it.” Ethan kept his gaze on the ground. “I see you, I hear of you, I watch you at church, you’re not meant for my daughter, so think before you act when you’re around her.”

“Yes sir.” He gulped. He and her father heard footsteps descending down the staircase and both looked away from each other, her father walking away into the kitchen. Y/N gave a slight smile and looked to Ethan.

“Ready?”

The big night, the play’s opening. Everyone had been working so hard to make it a fun filled nostalgic play. Even Ethan surprisingly. He was scared of course, since all of his friends were in the crowd tonight sitting front row with their phones out to video tape his probably horrid performance. He was shaking backstage, holding onto his fake fur around his body and looked like he might even rip it off. His breath hollowed and barely coming out as he stared at the floor. Y/N noticed and shyly walked over in her first costume, the white and blue dress with her hair tied back in a low ponytail. Ethan felt her warmth radiating onto him and looked up, but instead of saying anything, he just took his bottled water and drank half of it.

“It’s always nerve-wrecking before your first show. Totally normal.” She tried to make small talk.

“But you don’t know my friends, they think it’s ‘so hilarious’ that I had to do this as punishment.”

“I’ve seen what you’ve become, don’t be so hard on yourself if things don’t go smoothly tonight.” She patted his shoulder with a thin smile and took her place behind the curtain as the lights dimmed down getting ready to start the show.

Y/N and Ethan had been meeting up with each other at her house after school so much that it became a routine and Y/N expected him to be at her front door at the same time every day. Their relationship became easier somehow, more relaxed and Ethan began to loosen up whenever it was just them two. It almost seemed like a real friendship. They laughed together when one of them messed up, they talked about things other than the play, and sometimes cut practice short and just hung out together in the living room talking about anything that came to mind. Y/N found her stomach getting tense when he rang the doorbell and her cheeks getting flushed when he looked directly into her eyes. She never showed it though, telling herself she couldn’t get attached under any circumstances. It’s not that she didn’t like Ethan or anything, but only if he knew why. He definitely doesn’t deserve to know and would cut her off so quick if he found out.

Ethan too found his palms sweating before she even opened the door and his voice cracking at the beginning of every practice. Was it nerves? Sure. Was he scared of her, someone that has done this before, making fun of him if he messed up? Of course. But was he also acting this way because some part of him liked being here for more reasons than just getting away from his everyday life? …He doesn’t quite know. Y/N had a certain soothing quality to her voice that made it hard for him to leave her house at 7 pm after their practice. He secretly wished she would ask him to stay for dinner, but he knew with confidence her father would never accept it, so he had no choice but to leave. Ethan still practiced at home in his room by himself. In a hushed voice he’d go over songs and scenes he knew he had more lines than others. His views on theatre drastically changed during his times by himself, cursing at how hard it actually was, and all this time he assumed sports were the top tier of pain, but theatre was so different. When he got down even a line or two it made him feel way more accomplished than any sport ever had. He even began focusing on his classes as well, putting more hours into his assignments and papers than anything else, sometimes leaving football practice early to do so. He withheld tests from his friends that pestered him, as they asked how he did on a certain geometry test, saying he got a D, when in fact he got a 90%. Of course, none of his friends could know that. Y/N saw from the other side of the classroom how his face lit up at the white piece of paper, but how it disappeared so quickly as he stuffed it into his backpack. Y/N knew that look all too well, her heart filled with joy for him. She was intrigued as to why he all of a sudden was trying in school but never pried, knowing her place in his life. She was just his leading lady on stage, a fictional role she so wished to fill.

It was the scene everyone was waiting for, the infamous slow dancing scene with the beautiful fluffy yellow dress that made Ethan swallow hard when he saw her on the other side of the stage from behind the curtain. He tried to snap himself out of it, picturing all of the other much sexier girls he had gotten with, but still nothing compared to how she looked now. Curled hair, the dress that hugged her just perfectly. He didn’t want to admit that he was strongly attracted to her at this moment, but who was he kidding, everyone in the crowd would be too if they were in his shoes.

He heard the music begin and both emerged from backstage looking straight at each other, a genuine smiling upon both of their faces. Y/N acknowledged that Ethan was attractive, for as long as she could remember, but tonight it stood out to her and practically slammed her against the wall without warning. Even as a beast, he was the most handsome guy in the room. However, this was strictly for the play, so she calmed down her thoughts, and did what she had to do; slow dance.

As both started to dance, Ethan’s eyes couldn’t break from hers. Something about the way the stage lighting made her brown eyes seem ever lighter than his hazel ones, even though she had eyes as dark as night, tugged at his heart strings. Her lashes fluttered like Bambi, her lips wore pink that made them look full and plump. They somehow moved closer, and Y/N could feel his breath on her forehead. She didn’t dare look up and get lost in his features, scanning over every perfect crevice he possessed. She picked up on his stare and wondered if it meant more than that. She remembered all the times he picked on her with his friends, made her feel like she was lower class than him and ignored her when she tried to talk to him. Ethan Dolan was a bully and only cared for himself, could he ever actually care for another?

It was a week before opening night, and Y/N thought it would be a good idea to ask Ethan to practice an hour earlier this week to really prepare. She walked over to him and his friends holding a book close to her chest, making direct contact with Ethan.

“Hey Ethan. I was thinking we’d practice for the play earlier today than usual since the play is next week, what do you think?”

They all gave her weird looks, whispering to each other asking why she was even talking to them. She hugged the book closer to his chest in intimidation.

“I think…you should get lost.” He said plainly, only looking up at her for a split second before looking back at his phone uninterested. His friends all laughed with wide mouths at his comment and demeanor, scuffing at her.

Y/N got the hint and simply nodded before scurrying off to her locker. Her cheeks flushed and she felt like she could cry, but every time she felt the need to, she just remembered what her mother use to tell her: they can’t hurt you if you don’t let them.

It had always been that way between the two. Y/N constantly trying to be friends with him, even with the most unlikely people, and them shutting her down. She was never good at it for some reason. She always blamed it on herself rather than the people around her. Even when she says hi to people, they practically tell her nobody wants her here and leave it at that. She believed it partly, but as long as she had her father that’s all she needed. He took care of her once her mom passed away and was her best friend. Family meant way more to her anyway.

Ethan suddenly was flooded with memories of when he’d bump Y/N into lockers for fun, call her trash as he walked by her locker, and even dumped her books and bag into the trashcan during lunch. She never cried or said a word, but he could always tell she was hurting. In the moment, when he was with all of his friends, he didn’t care, the laughter of other students around that praised him mattered. She never did anything wrong to him, she was always nice to him and helped him when he needed it, especially recently. And with the way she looked tonight he couldn’t help but suddenly feel a wave of regret, wanting to somehow make it up to her.

As the music died out and the lights dimmed into a single spotlight on the pair, the audience sat in anticipation. Time stood still, when he quickly leaned in for a soft lingering kiss on her lips. He couldn’t allow himself to go further. He slightly leaning in before pulled away to look at her expression; a look of horror and confusion flowing from her eyes. Her mouth laid agape, instantly freezing up as a kiss was NOT a part of the play. Ethan could feel his friends staring daggers at him on stage, and it didn’t help that Ethan’s ex-fling sat directly in the middle of the front row, crushing her playbill in her hands. For more than a few seconds you could only hear the high buzzing noise in the atmosphere, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Y/N and Ethan didn’t know what to do next other than the lines for the ending of the play, but after that kiss each time either of them spoke they either stuttered or took too long to think of what to say, confused faces on everyone in the theatre, even their teacher.

The play ended and many people came up to the prince of the night, for taking on this character so seriously and delivering a great performance. His mom, brother and sister were among the last to see him since he was bombarded by people after the show.

“Honey! You did so great, what a transformation.” His mother burst with pride.

“Yea bro, not bad, I was thoroughly impressed.” His sister gave him a side hug and playful asked him to sign her playbill. Grayson, even though just as mean as Ethan, gave his brother a bro-handshake, congratulating him and saying he actually liked the play as a whole, even though it was the ONLY play he had ever attended at school. They all waved goodbye to him, going home for a late dinner. Ethan said he would see them at home but said he had to do something before leaving. He was going to find her, explain to her his sudden choice to kiss her and find out how she felt. But about 30 minutes later, after surfing through a sea of people to find his Belle, he realized she had left as soon as the curtain closed.

The next day at school wasn’t all that much better. Ethan’s friends constantly mocked him and some of the lines he said that made them laugh. He didn’t pay any mind to it, as his mind was stuck on finding her. He had finally stumbled upon her during lunch, sat at her usually table all by herself by the back window, reading a book they were assigned in English class. Ethan strolled up to her and sat down with a slight smile directed at her. She, however, was too preoccupied with ignoring him that she huffed at his presence then took a sip of her drink.

“Hey Y/N, uhm…what are you reading?” He asked shyly, the roles becoming reversed.

“Is this your way of small talk Dolan?” She spat.

“I’m just trying to be nice for once to you Y/N, you didn’t deserve my bullying, you were always so nice and helpful.” He pleaded with her.

“The play is over, okay? You don’t have to kiss my ass anymore, literally.” She whispered the last part, eyes still not daring to look up at him.

“Look, over these past few months I’ve done so much more good than bad, and it was all because of you. You’ve helped change me Y/N. I like you, okay?”

“I think that’s a bunch of bull.” Her eyes quickly darted to his, giving him a look of ‘go the fuck away now’.

“Which part of all that?” He said angrily.

“All of it!”

“But it’s not!” Some people sitting around them looked up, practically puking at the fact that the schools most loved senior was talking, let alone sitting, with the garbage that was Y/N.

“Then prove it.” She said calmly, picking up her school bag and walking out entirely.

Ethan called out for her until they reached the front steps of the school, fast walking to keep up with her and shouting her name.

“Y/N! C’mon Y/N please hear me out!”

“Ethan what did I tell you! I told you not to like me!” She nearly cried out, smashing her fists onto his chest in frustration.

“You know what? I’ve figured you out. Now I know why you told me that 3 months ago.” He said, getting into her face.

“Oh yea and why’s that?” She cocked her head.

“Because you’re scared someone might actually like you for you and want to be with you. Then, you wouldn’t be able to hide away behind your books, your church choir or your clothing choices.” She stood there still, a comeback not in her grasp as she knew he was right. She hid behind the non-constricting dresses and sweaters she wore, behind the books that gave her a new reality, and her church choir; where even though she had solos all of the time, she stood in the back behind a guy just a few inches taller than her. Y/N tried to free herself from Ethan before he tugged back on her to look at him.

“No, you want to know the real reason you’re scared? It’s because you want to be with me too.” She quietly gasped, was it obvious? Was it seen in plain sight that Y/N was head over heels for the once bad boy that made her cry? Without another word she gets into her car and slams the door, laying her head on her steering wheel keeping her from crying as Ethan watched. He told himself to give her space and time, maybe it was all too much for her to take in. He was the first to kiss her, the first to confess his feelings to her. If only he had told her before how he had always liked her secretly deep down inside, how things could’ve been so different. If only he could tell her he knew more about her than he led on and loved every little part. But they come from different edges, pointing in different directions. And Ethan didn’t know where to start when it came to telling her just how strongly he felt for her.

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #the dolan twins #ethan dolan imagine #grayson dolan imagine #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins masterlist #dolan twin tuesday #ethan dolan fanfic #grayson dolan fanfic #dolan twins fanfic #ethan dolan smut #grayson dolan smut #dolan twins smut

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mystic-kitten-writer · 4 years

Note

Can you drop a teaser for Flutter my sweetest dearest most awesome writer in the universe 😍 (yes Im trying to use flattery. I have no shame). But i hope all is well with you i love you tons 💜💜

A teaser you say...👀👀

I’m not above flattery - and your flattery has earned you a teaser 😂

I’m going to be releasing an update plan for my stories sometime soon - but Flutter should be dropping within the month (fingers crossed!). My computer crashed, and I lost the majority of my edits a few weeks ago (also why I’m behind on my other stories too), but I finally got an external hard drive so I’m less fearful of losing all my edits!

But I hope you like the teaser, love you, babe~! 💜

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

AU: Greek Mythology (mini-series - 3rd installment)

Genre: Romance/smut

Rating: SFW

Notes: A small teaser for waiting so patiently while my life is a chaotic mess.

Flutter [M] ︳Final

“Did you see Kitten this morning? It’s like she wanted to get ruined again.”

“Give our sweet Princess a break – she’s only human after all…”

“Hmm, we both know there’s not a single thing that our sweet Kitten can’t handle.”

Your eyelashes battled innocently, cheeks reddening the more you listened. A harmonious mixture of disbelief and embarrassment painting your face.

It was impossible to strip your gaze away from them - the way Taehyung and Jimin moved their plump lips, lustful words dancing off the tips of their tongues. The way they spoke, one would have thought they were talking about their wines, not their sexual rendezvous.

What a way to start the day.

“Kitten? Princess?” You spoke with a perfectly raised brow, fingers tapping on the armrest of the couch you sat upon. An easy thing, designed by the one and only, Taehyung, himself. But the newest addition of furniture was the last thing on your mind, especially knowing that Jimin and Taehyung were utterly love-struck.

As if Eros shot them with one of his arrows.

It wasn’t that you thought Taehyung or Jimin was incapable of loving someone; you just didn’t think they would share, let alone with a mere mortal.

Your smooth voice reminded them of your presence, and they smirked to each other - leaning back into the couches they sat on. You could only imagine the filth coursing through those corrupt minds of theirs – was their mother really a human? They seem more like direct offspring of Aphrodite and Dionysus...

Taehyung’s arms rested along the back of the couch, his fingers drumming as he crossed his legs, “She’s a beauty, y/n. But more importantly-”

“She loves us, both of us.” Jimin finished, manspreading as his hands brushed through his hair, a sweet but devilish smile on his face. And just like that, you could see it; love.

It twinkled in their eyes, and despite their shameless talks and the physical attractions, they genuinely loved her.

Seeing them sporting the broadest smiles on their faces, in utter bliss, made your heart swell with happiness. “And to think that just a moment ago, you were cute, awkward, teenagers.” you giggled, brushing your curtain of hair behind your ears, smiling.

You’ve seen them grow, all six of them, ever since you began a courtship with the eldest brother, Seokjin. To see them now, grown men, handsome and wise, and smitten, was the best thing that could have happened to you. Strangely, you felt like all of the brothers were your children, and it made sense since you’ve known them all from the very beginning.

“Have the others met her? I would love to meet her.” You smiled, leaning forward with excitement, and Taehyung let his long fingers tap against the couch, “Almost everyone, except Yoongi…but, you know him…”

You pouted, nodding knowingly.

He had his own worries, his own love troubles, and seeing people madly in love would most likely dampen his mood even more.

“We actually came to visit because we have a favour to ask…” Jimin beamed, his voice light as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. With a tilted head, you nodded, eager to hear what the great Gods of Wines could possibly want from just a butterfly nymph-like yourself.

And the moment they spoke, you felt your heart stop, face dropping that stunning smile to a forced one.

“We want to make her ours - officially. And there’s no one else we could trust with planning such an event than yourself.” Taehyung spoke, his eyes hazing over as he smiled to himself. Your breath hitched at his words, he couldn’t possibly mean what you think he does.

“Y-you’re talking about marriage?” You muttered under your breath, and Jimin grinned.

“Who would’ve thought we would be settling down already?” Taehyung and Jimin chuckled to themselves, nodding in unison at the thought, utterly oblivious of the sound of your involuntary giggle, hands intertwined on your lap.

Your nails dug into your skin, bottom lip trembling as you thought about it – marriage.

You loved Jimin and Taehyung, but not that way. You were happy that they were happy, glad that they found the one. The twisting of your stomach, the lump that built up in your throat, was caused by an entirely different meaning.

You’ve been with Jin for God knows how long, and yet, he never did propose or make any move that would suggest he was thinking of it. And while they were plenty of happy couples in Olympus, unmarried and with no desire to do so, marriage was something the both of you expressed a desire for and valued.

How long has it been? Five hundred, maybe even six hundred years in mortal time?

That gut-wrenching feeling, skin-crawling - you were jealous.

Jimin and Taehyung were ready to propose to a woman, whom they’ve known for less than a quarter than how long you and Jin have been dating.

“I’m happy for you two.” You spoke slowly, compelling a smile to stay on your face as you gazed over at the two boys.

It wasn’t like you fantasized about being a wife since you were little, but it still hurt. It was something you both cherished, and you didn’t think the relationship was failing, so what was it? If only you could pop the question, you totally would; but given his status, that was a no-go.

Were you wasting your time?

Asking too much from a God?

Was he… was he in love with someone else? It wasn’t uncommon for the Gods to stray away…only a handful of them stay faithful – the brothers being prime examples. But Jin isn’t that type of man. He’s committed, that was never a realistic fear…unless it should?

Your heart was pounding vigorously, as if someone stuffed a waterfall inside of your body. The soft mummers from the boys were lost to the thrashing in your head – oblivious to the confused looks they shared with one another.

Was Jin just content?

Maybe he does value marriage, just not with you.

Now that you’re thinking about it…

The more you thought, the more you realized the odd things that started to happen in your relationship…like how Jin kept freezing up every time you hugged him or gave him a peck. Or how awkward he seemed at times at your presence, like he was uncomfortable or stress.

It was like Jin was there with you but not at the same time…was our relationship falling apart right under your nose, and you just never noticed?

And just like that, you felt it; hands resting over yours, causing your eyes to flutter open – not realizing you had even shut them. Jimin was kneeling in front of you, his hands grasping yours.

“What’s wrong…? Are you mad at us?” Jimin questioned, voice strained.

“N-no, sorry, I was just thinking and- sorry. I’m fine, Jimin, don’t worry-” you cooed desperately, cupping his hands and pressing a bright smile. But Jimin sulked, shaking his head at the words you spoke.

“What’s wrong y/n…we know you just as well as you know us.” Taehyung huffed. He leaned over his knees, eagerly awaiting your answer.

Your mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to say.

What do you say? That you’re jealous of some woman you never even met? That you want to marry their brother?

“I-it’s nothing, I promise. I’ll gladly help you two with your wedding.”

“It’s Seokjin…isn’t it?” Taehyung muttered under his breath. With that statement alone, he clicked his tongue, head shaking as he straightened his back and gazed away. You couldn’t stop your breath from hitching, surprised that he guessed as fast as he did, but also not since it would be the only answer that would make sense.

Jimin glowered, the grip on your hand tightening tenfold, forcing your eyes to fall back on the man kneeling before you. “J-Jimin, sit up. You know it’s shunned upon for a God to kneel before anyone less than a God.”

“But you’re not just anyone. You’re practically our mother.” He grumbled.

His small hand untangled themselves with yours, dusting his stunning black silks as he stood. A sad smile painted your pink lips – they viewed you as a mother figure, and that meant tons.

“I’m not sure what Seokjin did, but you know how he is. He can be so aloof.” Taehyung grumbled under his breath, and you couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly. He had a point…although Taehyung isn’t one to talk – aloofness was, more often than not, his middle name at times.

But it wasn’t that Jin was unwise, he just proved…oblivious in certain areas.

For someone who was such a family man, a man who valued tradition and customs, he was unusually slow to picking up specific hints. There was a reason why you had to initiate the first kiss, the hand-holding…what a frustrating man he can be.

Was it aloofness?

No…it was more so his fear of pushing you – hurting you.

“You’re my butterfly – and I never want to be the reason why you no longer flutter as beautifully as you do.” You smiled sheepishly, remembering his romantic words – what a goof.

“Does…Seokjin wish to marry me?” you muttered under your breath, more so a question for yourself than for your boys to hear.

Jimin’s eyes widen, his jaw almost dropping as he huffed angrily to himself, “That’s it, I’m going to talk with him. What’s wrong with that man? He’s beyond self-conceited and prides himself in being the most handsome God that he’s forgetting to pay some attention to you.”

You blushed at Jimin’s words, hearing the anger in his voice.

There was one thing you learned about these boys – it was that Jimin was a sweetheart, but if pushed, he could make Zeus himself fearful. Standing tall, he raged internally, his jaw clenched as he brushed back his hair messily – a habit of his that often-had men and women swooning.

“Jimin, no need to get so worked up-”

“But it’s utterly pathetic. He’s our older brother, yet Taehyung and I are set to wed before him! How embarrassing on his part. Can you even call yourself a God at that point?”

He nailed it.

“M-maybe Seokjin isn’t interested-”

“Now, you’re starting to anger me, y/n.” Taehyung growled under his breath, his hazel eyes glaring at you with venom. Tones of exasperation and annoyance were unfamiliar, let alone having it directed towards yourself.

#bts smut #bts fanfic #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #BTS jin #Flutter #Greek Mythology #ask me anything #anon answered

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long-cosmos-overhead · 4 years

Text

I would like to request a Dwalin x Ori x Reader. The reader has had a dream of meeting her soulmate. All she sees is a hand grabbing for her own, stopping her from falling into the darkness. Sometimes her left hand and sometimes her right hand. Never both, it never occurred to her that it was two different people.

You were slipping. The abyss of darkness below waiting to swallow you whole and toss you aside like you were one single pebble in a huge colony residing at the bottom of a river. Your fingers clawed and the Earth beneath you dirt piling up underneath your fingernails. You were falling now. Limbs flailing in the air trying desperately to grasp a hold of anything to stop your fall. Dirt fell beside you almost in slow motion, falling deeper into darknesses eternal slumber until they were no longer Just witnessing a twisted example of your fait made your stomach twist in fear you couldn’t wish to any other.

You were so close to the darkness you could almost feel it’s cold hand wrapping its fingers around you. It was toying with you leaving its grip loose enough for your nerves to eat you alive. Air flew past you caressing your falling body rippling through your clothes and dancing up your skin. Tears spilled from your eyes leaving tracks so cold and rich in raw emotion. Your heart pounded against your chest for what would’ve been the last time before your inevitable death. You were practically touching the dark, your feet moments from being snatched by its gruelling hand dragging the rest of you with it. You closed your eyes unwilling to bear witness of the fall that would break you.

Fingers grasped around your right hand stopping you from falling. The grip so tight and unwilling to let go it turned your fingertips red. The darkness beneath you subsided growing smaller and smaller until it had completely vanished in defeat. It’s cold grip that hovered around you ceased to be present. You wanted to scream out in relief. The fall constricted your bodies every ability so greatly talking was an impossibility.

The fingers suffocating your hand were rough and weathered yet held an amount of comfort it made you feel a way you had never felt before. Somewhat safe and assured but also something deeper something that made your heart pound, not of fear but a mix of warmth and affection. A spark ran through your body encasing you in bliss despite almost falling into the pit of darkness. You shifted your head to peer up a little still shaken you decided not to make big movements.

The hand was clearly that of a man. Short finger nails rimmed with dirt and grime, somewhat muscly; the hands of heavy labour, veins rising against the lightly tanned skin and littered in tattoos of various shapes and markings ones you could not make out yet made sense. Normally body markings didn’t affect your perception on appearance but the ones engraved on the hand that held you were strangely captivating you felt your eyes resting on them unable to shift your gaze. You found them right as if if they weren’t there it wouldn’t look right.

The day following was confusing. Waking up was even more so. You had been so immersed in your thoughts even Thorin threw you a few glances. You barely uttered a word.

“Lass you seem distracted.” Dwalin sat beside you shifting the log you too resided on. The sun’s last rays dipping below the horizon leaving the trees shadows creeping further up the ground. A moment ago one lay atop your foot but had since seemed to crawl back a little. You thought nothing of it, your thoughts quickly wrapping you in a steel grip.

“Just been thinking about some things.”

Dwalin hummed in understanding. He always seemed to be the one to understand you providing quiet support. When you first joined the company you were rather lonely often hanging back with the brothers Fili and Kili. To say you were intimidated by the axe wielding dwarf was an understatement the first time you saw him you could’ve sworn he disapproved of your existence. However, in a short amount of time you became one of the few people he trusted and he became one of your closest friends.

“If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask lass, I’ll fetch you some food you could do with some.” He patted your shoulder and you felt a familiar spark course through your body. You jolted in shock causing Dwalin to quickly remove his hand.

“You sure you’re alright lass?” You looked up to meeting his eyes. The confusion and worry that glassed over his blue ones made you feel a sense of uneasiness. Seeing such emotions were rare coming from him. You swallowed thickly nodding your head unable to form words. His eyes narrowed as if he had caught you out on a lie but whatever he was thinking he dropped for your sake.

“Come let’s get you to bed, I’ll sleep nearby if you need anything.” He offered you his hand to help you rise from the log. Admittedly it wasn’t terribly comfy the bark had scratched into the back of your legs leaving the skin undoubtedly irritated and red. You raised your hand to grasp his but stopped midway. The dying embers of the suns rays fell gracefully upon his hand illuminating his short nails layered in dirt, the way his veins rose slightly above his skin, the toned edges of his muscles reaching up his arm and out of sight underneath his sleeves and finally his tattoos each section of inked skin matching up exacting to the ones you had dreamt about.

Everything was happening so suddenly the links your brain drew fuelled the panic rising in your chest. The shadows growing on you causing your heart to beat wildly against your chest. The deja vu was overwhelmingly identical. Your breathing became shallow and almost rapid. Looking again into the blue eyes of the dwarf you only managed one word.

“Dwalin.”

You were easily hoisted up into his arms. To Dwalin you felt awfully light. He’d never seen you so lost and consumed in your own thoughts that you lost touch with the world around you. He had witnessed people seriously overwhelmed before he took pity on them and continued about his activities however upon seeing you, a brave and powerful women become reduced to your most vulnerable in his arms shook him to his core.

You felt the wind whisper in your ear as Dwalin ran to the area Thorin had set up for the night. Dead leaves and twigs crunched under his heavy boots alerting everyone of your presence. The company drew silent. Thorin had sat upright against the rock he laid on seemingly more awake, Fili and Kili stopped sharpening their weapons offering you a worried, sympathetic look, Bilbo had looked up from tending to the horses his brow creasing in confusion. Bombur had jumped up in fright. Your face was buried in Dwalin’s chest still panicked, the reaction from the company didn’t even hold place in your mind.

“Y/n what happened?” A gentle voice rang from beside you. Ori had been your best friend and fiercest protector alongside Dwalin. He always managed to soothe your every thought that bled you dry with anxiety or anger. Despite being the youngest of the group he still remained grounded and ever so polite no matter the situation. Just his voice simply asking you a question felt as blissful as a warm summers day. The company reeled their heads in a little awaiting the answer to your current state unwilling to pry open your personal thoughts they held their tongue.

“The lass is worn out, Ori, take her to bed and set up our rolls near should she wake and need anything I’ll fetch some food she could do with a little to eat.”

Ori took you from Dwalin’s warm embrace entering you into his. Reality slowly began enticing you back into its clutches. Cold gusts of wind clashed with your shaking figure, subconsciously you curled up into a ball. You were tired. So tired, it were as if you had been conscious for weeks on end. Your stomach ached for food but your body yearned for sleep so desperately. Your eyelids gradually got heavier and heavier until the forest around you transfered from beautiful scenery to a blur of greens and greys. Your body succumbed to the allure of slumber in Ori’s warm arms.

It was the same dream that haunted you. You were falling, quicker than last time. It was as if you grew tired of watching the same scene, the same emotions that you decided to race forward in time. The dirt around you only paused to entertain your vision for a few seconds. You anticipated the cold, malicious hand slowly suffocating you taking your every will, ambition and achievement in its wake and in quick time it came. It was almost more agonising the second time. You fell deeper and deeper into the dark. The shadow crawling up your skin until it had reached your midsection. You drew one final breath.

You should’ve known a hand would catch you right before the hand of darkness grasped you fully. Your left hand ached in pain upon supporting your whole body weight. Your feet swayed upon your sudden departure from falling. The dark pit of fear below shrunk in defeat until it ceased to exist once again. You had to know the person that saved you a second time.

The hand clinging to yours was frail yet firm. Rather small yet masculine. His fingernails were well kept, clean and short. His fingers so thin it made his knuckles protrude outwards allowing them to easily account for the magority of his hands distinguishable features. The hand holding you up was soothingly soft and you couldn’t help but feel familiar with the touch. Despite hanging meters from your death you were pulled into such a rich sense of security courtesy of the contact you were blessed with. You dared to look up just a little more. A blinding white light stole the face of your saviour whisking you back into consciousness.

Your body automatically jolted upwards and you gasped for air as if you had been starved of it all your life. Light beads of sweat populated your forehead while cold chills shuddered down your body. A rough hand clasped upon your shoulder pulling you into their lap.

“Lass what’s been going on with you?” Dwalin spoke his voice softer and quieter than usual.

You couldn’t hold back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes any longer. You clung to Dwalin seeking any sort of comfort you could. His other hand found its way to your back rubbing circles in your skin and easing the painful tension that knotted your shoulders together. Faintly you heard him shushing you, trying to calm your shaking, tired body.

“Y/n?”

Ori questioned beside you. He rubbed his eyes clearly having woken up from the commotion. His hand placed over yours. The feeling was too familiar resurfacing every detail of the horror your mind had conjured just moments ago. You stared blankly at him for a moment almost scared to look down having already anticipated what you would see.

His hand matched each fraction of the one that caught you. Not one tiny marking was out of place.

“Ori I..I..”

It took a while to calm you down; the sun had since risen over the horizon it previously fell below. Finally you fell back asleep again. Ori and Dwalin had decided to leave you to rest a while longer after the company had awoken. Mid morning slowly passed by the suns golden rays hitting your body as you lay asleep now in Ori’s lap. Never once did his grip falter on you. Dwalin made sure of that too, informing Thorin of your hectic nightmare.

For once there was no cold hand constricting you. You only felt warmth and safety laying in the arms of your two dearest dwarves. Some day you’d figure out everything but for now you were happy.

@swoopswishsward I am so so sorry for being so late for this one. Please forgive me I hope I did a good enough job

#dwalin x reader #dwalin imagine #dwalin #the hobbit #ask #request #fluff #angst #dwalin fluff #dwalin angst #ori x reader #ori imagine #ori #ori fluff #ori angst

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mirrorballparkers · 5 years

Text

little star - part two

[peter parker x reader]

[ read part one ]

summary: the sweetest, most patient of best friends; what happens when it sparks into something more?

authors note: after months and months, i’ve decided to continue this series, regardless if people want me to because i love this concept so much and i wanna share it w all of u. i hope u enjoy it. more to come. <3

warnings: omg kinda angst but fluffy nonetheless

pairing: peter parker x reader

~ best friends to lovers troupe ~

word count: 1.9k

peter figured most of this was his fault, not having enough time for each other. he was the one who had the entire world on his shoulders, being a super-hero part time, there’s no excuse for him not to be there for his best friend. absolutely no excuse. still, you were there - you always there. you were the first person he’d come to for anything.

every single night after patrol, you’d keep your window open, awaiting your best friends arrival in his red spidey suit, here to pick up any broken pieces. because you know it was a lot. peter was just a seventeen year old kid; this was a lot to handle and the best thing you could do was be there for him.

he was there for you, too. you were one of the most hard working, kind, yet very broken souls he’d ever known. tough, definitely a tough one, but all because you were broken inside, and he tried so desperately to get that side out of you so you could feel better and more at peace, but it wasn’t always the easiest.

thankfully, peter was patient. he was always patient with you.

the next twenty-four hours for Peter were nothing short of pure anxiety and fear; how could he of all people think that he could sing, let alone dance and act - at the same time. he spent the next day only with you, singing almost non stop and having to be calmed down by you many times. peter assured you that he wanted to do this; he wanted to spend more time with you, he just wasn’t so sure this plan was quite sufficient.

but, he requested you more than anybody. and he’d do anything for you, his best friend. that sometimes gave him a pretty gross taste in his mouth, not because of you; you were perfect. but, that was the problem, you were only his best friend. not his girlfriend, not someone he could kiss and live a real-life romance novel with. maybe he was a fool for believing in love, but that wasn’t something he thought was necessarily a problem, persay.

you had been best friends him ever since he shared his pizza lunchable with you in the second grade, and when you defended him at recess when flash and a few other kids were picking on him — you threw sand at them. and you definitely got in trouble, but peter liked you. he definitely liked you.

after that, you shared everything together. laughs, hugs, pizza at two am on the roof of his apartment building, and nothing but loyalty.

you were his person, and he was yours.

“just like that, lift your body up as you try and hit that high c.” your hands graze onto the piano keys, awaiting peter to do what you asked, some vocal exercise that he was definitely having a difficulty with.

“is there a way i can just....not suck? like, skip all of this weird vocal technique thingies and just become, like, beyoncé or something?” peter frowns, rubbing his stomach as he was desperate to figure out whatever it was you were talking about. all this geeky stuff about singing and music was cute and all, but he didn’t get it. there was so much more to singing than just sounding like a goddess, and peter did not sound like one.

“no, silly. it takes time. now, breathe in and out slowly through your diaphragm. come on, just like we practiced.” you motion your hands towards him and turn back to the piano that was sat in the middle of your living room, the sunlight shining on the sheet music making it just a little difficult to see the notes.

peter was a little distracted, for the sun was also framing your body perfectly. it was..pretty, ethereal. but he needed to focus, auditions were in less than 24 hours and he felt like he was getting nowhere.

“ready?” you ask sweetly.

“mhmm.” he responds, remembering everything you taught him within the past hour and a half of singing and breathes through his diaphragm, just like you taught him to.

surprisingly, he slides through the little exercise perfectly, and can’t help but smile at his progress.

“there you go! see, you’re getting the hang of it.” you cheered, turning around so you were fully facing your best friend. “that sounded so nice!”

peter giggles and bows his head, trying his best not to blush, but to no prevail.

“i’m a work in progress,” he says.

“aren’t we all?” you teased.

you glance over at your phone, eyes slightly widening at the time. you were really nervous that you were pushing peter too hard, but he assured you many times that he wanted to do this with you and that he would tell you if you were. so far, nothing but peter being absolutely sweet and patient with your teaching and rehearsal methods. sweet and patient as always, that’s who peter parker was — your peter.

“we should stop for a while, i don’t want you to strain your vocal chords.” you get up from the piano bench, shutting it slightly as you cross over to the couch, plopping down and patting a seat for peter to sit down.

“man, is this what it’s like to be on broadway?” peter asks, letting out a loud, tired sigh as he sits down next to you, his head resting on your shoulder.

“slow down, weirdo, we’re not broadway bound yet,” you laughed, nudging his side.

peters eyes grew soft as he looked up at you, his chin still resting on your shoulder. “but you will be someday.” he spoke with sweetness and reasurment.

your heart fluttered, “you really think i could make it to broadway, peter?”

“i know you will, you’re so talented. it’s insane how talented and driven you are, y/n/n.”

peter has never met anyone as hard working and determined as you. there wasn’t a time he knew you were you weren’t constantly on your feet, doing something that made you happy or something that you strongly felt for. you were hardly ever resting, which also worried him. you could never catch a break. nonetheless, he wanted to be there for you through it all.

and he would be, he promised not only you but himself that he would be there with you forever — and peter parker never breaks a promise.

you smile sweetly at your best friend, words fail to come out.

“say something, dork.” he teased.

you both laugh heartily, something you did quite often together.

“thanks peter. i really don’t know what i’d do without you.” you respond after a tiny fit of giggles filled the air.

“probably suck at life, i dunno.” peter jokes, giving an attempt to wink.

“shut up, nerd,” you scoff, laying your head on his lap, peters hands automatically going to your hair as he begins to massage your head gently.

a moment of comfortable silence filled the air, only hearing the metronome on the piano and peters steady breathing. worry started to fill his chest as he began to think about tomorrow; what if he messed up at the audition?

what if all this time and effort spent on you coaching him was an absolute waste. peter was not a performer - that was more your element, he was a nerd who loved the stars and comic books - that was his.

“something wrong?” you quipped, knowing that the sight of his eyes growing more ire wasn’t avoidable.

“what if i don’t make the show? i-i mean, you spent all this time and effort on helping me prepare, what if it’s not worth it? what if i can’t do it?”

“the last thing i wanna do is be the boy who disappoints his best friend.”

you sit up from peters lap, positioning yourself to where you were fully facing him, assuring him that you were listening and that you were there.

“look at me, pete, yeah?” peter does as you say, his puppy-like eyes dazzle over your skin.

“you do know i would never ask you to do something for me if i didn’t think you could do it, right?”

he nods and you continue to speak, “so i know you can do this, pete. i know you better than anyone, i know your heart and it’s full.”

“i know yours too. and it’s much fuller than mine, like hella full.”

“you’re being dorky now, stop it.” you nudge him.

“hey, but i’m your dork, remember?” peter playfully winks.

you tilt your head slightly, fully aware that peter parker was your best friend and always will be.

“no, you’re also my best friend.”

a hard, cold, pain hit peters chest - something that’s never occurred before. it was weird, it hurt: he didn’t like it at all. somehow, it only happened when you said the words ‘best friend’. you were his best friend, he couldn’t ask for a better one, but what if he wanted something more?

don’t be an idiot, parker. he shook off.

“best friends forever.” peter smiles through the broken heart, but held your hand anyway against his heart, that you somehow healed each time it was broken with that graceful smile of yours.

taglist: @lovelyspidey @akaspiderman @spiiderman @naturallytom @sunshinehollandd @plushparker @cutesparker @spideykiddo @spideyflicker @t-oodles @peterplanet @raspberryparker @sun-flowerparker @sunshinehollandd @underoos-shield @maryjparkers @curlytoms

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honeymoonjin · 5 years

Text

런닝맨 방탄 Running Man Bangtan - Part Two

A/N This final half is just shy of 7k words, so a bit smaller than the last one, but believe me when I say a lot happens. Read part one here.

Warnings: cursing, explicit sexual content (exhibitionism, unprotected sex, handjob)

Summary: You only have one challenge left to complete the second year anniversary episode, but will you succeed and find the spy in time? After filming, the Running Man Bangtan gang return home to celebrate, but Y/n and another member decide to continue the festivities a little longer.

Your final challenge awaited you, and with the amount of time left on the clock, you knew it would be a big one. The rest of your team were in varying states of exhaustion, but it was getting late, and if you stopped for a break now, you'd have to wait a whole day so that the light visible from the windows still looked the same to viewers. Director Lee had decided to just keep rolling.

The brief respite you did get was to change out of your hoodies and jeans and get into some workout gear. That made you all a little nervous for what the challenge could be.

After getting changed, the eight of you were led back into the studio proper, where the production team were spread out across the mirrored wall. A production assistant shuffled the eight of you into place and cameras rolled once more.

Letting out a yawn, you leant your head against the solid body beside you. Namjoon grunted a little but didn't make a move to push you away.

"You will complete your final mission in the Running Man Bangtan Studio. Currently, you have 2 hours and 38 minutes on the clock to complete this mission. However, if you fail this, there is no second chance, and you only get one shot to successfully complete it."

You scrunch up your face in concern. Over two and a half hours was a really long time, too long, so clearly it was going to be something crazy elaborate, or at least time-consuming.

"Your mission is to learn and perform a three minute choreography in pairs."

You blink. All of the members simultaneously relax a little.

"However," Lee cautions, "each dance duo only gets one shot to perform their choreography without any mistakes. If any of the eight of you make a mistake, the whole team loses the mission, and in turn, fails the entire game. You can practice as much as you want within your remaining time," Lee finishes, looking particularly smug as he reads off his iPad.

There it was. The classic RMB twist that kept the show so popular. Either a challenge so complex for so little reward, or a challenge that's extremely simple, but with sky high stakes. You stand up straight again, suddenly more awake than ever. This was the perfect challenge for you.

Director Lee made you draw lots for the dance pairs: Namjoon was with Taehyung, Yoongi was with Hoseok. After opening yours, you cross your fingers in the hope that you'll be with Jimin, or at least the golden maknae.

Of course, putting the good dancers together wouldn't make very interesting television, and the variety show gods certainly want an entertaining show. Jimin and Jeongguk are put together, and Jin turns to you with a cheeky smile.

After the lots were drawn, two dance instructors are led in to begin teaching you. The dance is pretty simple, but there are a lot of moves to remember in three minutes, and even the more qualified out of you begin to feel that this is a losing battle.

"Okay, Jin-oppa, we can do this! It's not that bad," you start, but cut yourself off as Jin goes off the book and starts slut-dropping to the music, holding uncomfortable eye-contact with you the whole time. You look away, sighing. "Every morning I knock on heaven's door but God won't answer. He lives in fear of the mess he created."

"Ah, come on, it'll be fun," he insists, still in a squat on the floor. "We can add a little flair to it, make it sexy."

From across the room, you can hear Jimin's classic whine. "Nobody wants to see that, hyung! And the whole point is to stick to the moves they taught us! At least you don't have to grind on this little freak," Jeongguk pauses in his superhero pose, looking affronted that he's been called a freak. His outstretched arm lowers in defeat, before Jimin tugs him away to go over the steps again.

The room is a disaster by the time you've been practising for an hour. Hoseok has his dance nailed and is parading around the room going freestyle to impress the teachers. His partner awkwardly hip thrusts and wiggles to open air, looking like he wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

Jimin and Jeongguk's dance doesn't look particularly safe for public viewing; even after Jimin's periodic complaining, they dance a lot closer than the instructors asked them to.

Poor Namjoon and Tae are still trying their best to get the hang of the third move, but they're very serious and invested, monopolising the instructors time, and shoving Hoseok away every time he comes to show off.

Jin and you? Well, surprisingly enough, he has a lot more potential than you had initially expected. He's always in rhythm even when the moves are completely wrong, and that's always the biggest battle.

It's been almost a year since you've been dancing regularly, and even you need to ask the teachers over every now and again to get your part sorted. As time trickles down, teams come and go to take breaks and get food, figuring that it's better to conserve energy rather than using it all in one go.

After an hour and a half, Jimin and Jeongguk feel confident that they have theirs sorted, and after a few full practices, the rest of you pile up against the wall to watch them do their final performance.

The song is upbeat and flirty, but Jimin and Jeongguk look like they're moments away from ripping their clothes off. After the three minutes, those not dancing are in tears at their over-dramatic moves and face acting. It's a relief when the dance instructors give them the all-clear, and the two dancers, still panting, just about melt into the floor, slugging over and collapsing against the wall with the rest of you.

At one point in practising, you are mid-twirl when you see Yoongi whispering quietly into Jin's ear, and the two of them walk out of the room, Jin shooting you a half-assed apologetic smile. You shoot a confused look over to Hobi, but he just shrugs.

They're gone for five minutes, a cameraman following them in, and when they finally return, staring at you in suspicion, you huff and get Jin to take it from the top.

It's Yoongi and Hoseok who perform next. After swanning around for over an hour, Hoseok finally decided it was time to try and teach Yoongi instead of letting him suffer on his own, and he makes an amazing teacher. Yoongi isn't a quick learner, but Hobi is patient with him, encouraging him when he messes up and cheering when he gets something right at last. It's more than you can say for your own team, as every time you try and explain something, poor Jin looks more confused than when he asked.

The remaining four of you join Jimin and Jeongguk at the side of the room and watch with baited breath as Yoongi walks the tightrope of almost forgetting a move or being almost too slow, but they end with success. Instead of joining Hobi in the celebrations, Yoongi chooses to collapse on the couch in the breakroom and take a nap while the final four struggle it out.

When the dial falls below one hour, you turn to Jin. "I think we need to do our last full run-through and try it."

He widens his eyes and rears his head back comically. "Are you crazy? We're not ready!"

You go back to the starting pose. "No, we are ready! Okay, let's do one more run-through, and if we make a mistake, we keep practicing, but if we get it, we're done."

He considers it for a moment, then reluctantly places a hand on your shoulder for the first move. "Fine then, let's go."

The first half of the team sit and watch the last four practice (with the exception of Yoongi, who made Hoseok promise not to wake him until the last team does their performance), and you feel a sense of pride when the three minute track goes by without a single mistake on either end.

Even more begrudgingly, Jin allows you to call the instructors over to watch you submit your final performance. Everything is silent except for the catch music.

Jin's hand begins on your opposite shoulder, and when the first line in the song begins you brush it off and twist. Now facing your back, Jin reaches out and leans as you bend forward out of his grasp. As each pulse of the bass goes, you turn, flick, step, step, bend, drop, pose in time with the music, pleased when Jin keeps up perfectly, albeit with a constant look of horror on his face.

The first minute passes by with the impassive faces of the instructors watching you carefully, and then the second. Towards the end of the dance, there's a series of steps in a grapevine pattern that are paired with turns, body-rolls, and hip-thrusts. It's the most complicated part of the dance by far, and the stress of being the second to last team, so close yet so far from victory, the moment when you are meant to clasp onto his hand, you go for his shoulder instead accidentally.

You realise your mistake as it happens, eyes flying wide open and mouth slacking, but Jin's hand comes up on the beat and quickly latches on to yours, completing the move correctly.

With a racing heart, you turn away from him and let your linked hands fall across your chest and pull your body against his for the ending pose.

The pair of you stare nervously at the instructors, but they haven't reacted. Nobody breathes for a few seconds, but after what feels like an eternity, the pair share a look, then nod at you two. They didn't notice, or if they did, it wasn't enough to be a mistake.

You exhale noisily, letting your dead weight fall against Jin's broad chest. You feel it rumble against your cheek as he half-carries you over to the wall, loudly declaring that he was the best dancer on the team, and even if they made a million mistakes, his dashing good looks would distract the judges so much they'd never notice.

The two of you are giddy with relief when you finally slump against the wall, Jin shifting to lie down, head in your lap, staring outwards as Namjoon and Tae look just about green in the face.

At some point, Yoongi wakes up naturally and comes back to the group, leaning against Hobi's shoulder and immediately falling back asleep.

Jeongguk is to your left and you make quiet conversation with him while the two stressed dancers freak out ten feet away. His voice drops into a conspiratorial whisper, not that his body mic wouldn't pick it up anyway. "It's totally Hoseok," he insists.

"What?"

"The spy, idiot. Whenever he gets chosen as the spy he always acts like this. He gets all over excited to try and avoid suspicion."

You eye him up. "What happened to sitting and waiting for the spy to reveal himself?"

He raises an eyebrow and gestures down at himself. "Would you not call this sitting and waiting?"

You laugh at him. "Fair enough. I kind of thought it was Namjoon until we got that hint about dancing." The pair of you wince as Namjoon elbows Tae in the face as he does the final spin. "Maybe that's the grand twist. Namjoon isn't a bumbling nerd, he's been a mastermind all along. We'd never see it coming."

"Plot twist of the century. Our ratings would skyrocket. Fans would revolt."

Once the laughter dissipates, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. The friendly camaraderie lasts up until the final twenty minutes come along, and Namjoon and Taehyung still haven't performed.

Fifteen minutes ago, Jimin had gotten up to help Tae out with his part, while two instructors did their best with Namjoon, and it had certainly helped.

They knew all the moves, but they were too terrified to perform, what with all the pressure on them to succeed.

"Hey, oppa," you call out to Joon. He looks over at you with exhausted eyes. "If we make the two of you our penalties, then it doesn't matter if you win or lose, you'll be getting the punishment anyway."

Your genius idea doesn't go down so well. Namjoon simply sighs and goes back to one last run-through, but Yoongi, half-asleep but holding on out of curiosity, sits up and furrows his eyebrows. "If they're going to get punished anyway, why would they even try to succeed? That's terrible advice."

"Ah." You blink slowly. "You're right. I just figured if they didn't feel so much pressure they might do better."

"They'll get it," Jimin enthused, joining you on the floor as the final duo took their places.

Their performance was like art. Certainly not a beautiful landscape that was framed in a gallery, but more so the garish, graphic street art that was meant to 'challenge you'.

You felt like you had never been so stressed in your life. Their dancing, while technically correct, was so horrendous that you had no idea how they were still somehow succeeding. Namjoon's look of pain for the whole three minutes, their weird tendency of standing as far apart as they could get to avoid hitting each other, their almost mechanical progression of steps struck fear in the hearts of all the other team members, as you waited for the inevitable moment when they would cross from awkward to wrong.

But they never did. They finished, Namjoon holding Tae to his chest, both men stiff as a board, and the judges shrugged a little at each other, then nodded.

There was a moment of complete shock and silence, then Jimin's triumphant hoot caused the room to erupt in cheers and laughter.

The LED clock ticking down in the corner was at 12 minutes and 41 seconds when Director Lee stopped it. It was almost midnight, but the eight of you were too wired from the seemingly impossible win you had secured to feel sleepy at all.

They had paused filming long enough for you to get back into your hoodies and jeans from before, and to have the stylists blot away the sweat and powder your shiny faces one last time.

While getting changed, you had seen Jimin chat with Yoongi, then make his way around the room, chatting to each member quietly. You stick with Jeongguk, who was always the first to get changed, and once the other two maknaes came over you sorted out your voting strategies, all three of you agreeing to go for Hoseok.

As usual, voting was simply writing a name down on a slip of paper in an envelope, and getting Lee to tally up the votes. He went through a reminder, mostly for the audience, rather than you guys who knew the drill by now, that if the spy wasn't correctly guessed they'd get a reward, but if they were guessed they'd suffer a penalty. You were all still riding the high of getting the full-team reward, and none of you really cared who the spy was, more concerned about not being drawn to do the penalty when the rest of their team were enjoying some unspecified reward.

Lee, after counting and re-counting the votes, leant into the microphone. "There is one vote for Hoseok."

Both you and Hoseok's mouths fall open. Hoseok, of course, is annoyed that someone would suspect him. You, however, immediately turn to glare at the youngsters beside you. That one vote was yours, which meant that the other three hadn't listened to you when you said to vote for Hobi.

You gasped, affronted. "You sneaky brat, Ggukie, voting for Hoseok was your idea!"

"Jimin told me that Yoongi told him that the first hint was the spy being a bad cook. So we figured it had to be you. I just thought Jimin was trying to get me off his back, but he managed to convince the rest of us." He flashed you a shit-eating grin and turned to high-five Jimin and Tae.

"The majority vote, which will be the one counted, is seven votes. The person voted out as a spy is Y/n."

You throw your hands up in defeat, shaking your head at the seven guys around you whooping and hooting at their successful blindside.

"Y/n, are you a spy?"

You knew what came next. Sighing, you let Jeongguk turn you around so that your name-tag was visible on your hoodie. He grabbed one corner and tugged.

There was an almighty cheer as your identity was revealed, hiding beneath the name-tag.

스파이. Spy.

At this point in the show, the producers would go back to the interview you shot two days ago where they sat you down and told you your secret mission objective. Everybody always hated being the spy, possibly except Jin who loved the drama of it, and your attempts at trying to fuck up challenges without being caught didn't work on either level.

Director Lee continued, saying of course that you would get the punishment as you had been correctly chosen. "And since you failed two challenges and decided to pass them by putting two names up for punishment, we'll draw short straws for the two other players who will receive the punishment."

You glance at Yoongi, who's looking like the cat that got the cream, and he sends you a smug wink when he catches you glaring. "Wait!" you yell before any members can grab a straw. "Can I choose who gets to go on the penalty with me?"

Yoongi pales and his smile drops.

Director Lee allows it, as you knew he would, and suddenly it's you who's laughing. "I'd like to choose Hoseok, since I like his company the most and also he didn't make a very good scapegoat, but instead I'm going to pick the two idiots who got the rest of you to vote for me instead. Yoongi and Jimin." You finish your short speech and relish in the sounds of Yoongi and Jimin desperately trying to get you to reconsider.

As usual, the moment the cameras stopped rolling for the day, and the episode was over, all the over-acted power plays and rivalries fell away. It was late, and the antics of the day were finally catching up on you all. Director Lee's final words to you all were just to let you know that the punishment would take place Monday of next week, and that he'd email the three of you that were doing it with more details.

Mondays were the regularly filming days, so you figured it would be a split episode: half of the team get to enjoy some good food, relaxing and easy challenges or exciting activities, while the losers drudged about cleaning a stable or something horrible like that. Even though it sucked that you had to do a penalty, you were glad it wasn't on top of another normal filming day.

The lot of you had the luxury of a short elevator trip down two floors being the only transport needed to get to your group dorm. When Namjoon unlocked the door, you all piled inside like zombies, Jin making his way to the kitchen to make a midnight snack for you all, you and Taehyung making your way to the lounge to find something good to watch on Netflix, and the others disappearing to their rooms for quick showers.

It was tradition for the Bangtan dorm to pull an all-nighter after a late-night episode. You found it was generally impossible to get any decent sleep after being paraded around Seoul for all your crazy challenges, and it was nice to just enjoy each others presence for a while. You'd get some warm food, watch some dumb movies, and camp out in the lounge, eventually falling asleep one by one in a massive pile of bodies, blankets and pillows on the floor.

Namjoon had once confessed to you that this tradition was on hiatus once you moved in to start the show after one year. They had gotten so used to it being the seven of them, that they had kind of expected that they wouldn't get along with an eighth member, and a female no less. So for your first few weeks, they would all pretend to go to bed in their double rooms, then sneak into Jeongguk and Tae's room to have a secret sleepover without you.

Those first few weeks felt incredibly lonely for you, and awkward for them. It wasn't until you actually sat down for one of the planning sessions and spent some off-camera time with them that they got to know you.

After a while, they began holding their post-filming cuddle-fests in the lounge again, saying you were welcome to join or to sleep, whatever you felt comfortable with.

It seemed like far more than a year ago now. Now, you felt like part of the family. They happened usually once a week, and you had fallen into a routine of snuggling with one of them for a while, until they fell asleep, then moving on to somebody else, and rinse and repeating until there was nobody else to move to, or you yourself fell asleep.

Tonight, when the ending credits of Paddington came on at about three in the morning, Hoseok and Yoongi had long since fallen asleep, Yoongi with his head draped on Hoseok's shoulder, Hoseok with one of his legs thrown over Yoongi's. Namjoon was on his phone, with Jimin sleeping peacefully on his curled-up legs, letting out a little grunt or whine every now and again. Jin and Jeongguk were tops and tails on one of the couches, and you and Tae were on the other one, you leaning on his chest, his legs on either side of yours.

Each breath he took caused your head to lift up and down again, and listening to the deep tenor of his breathing was better than any sleeping pill. You stayed awake long enough to turn off the TV, then settled back down in Tae's warm embrace, clutching at the corner of your blanket. You imagined a stranger walking in on this would consider it weird; in fact, you yourself probably would've found it weird had they continued their routine when you first arrived. But after living with them, it was so clear that they were a family. Closer than family, sometimes.

Now, you were lucky enough to be a part of that family. Even if you maybe stared at their chests when they got up in the morning for a little too long, and maybe you pretended to struggle to get to sleep some nights so that one of them would let you sleep in their bed with them, but they were your family first, and extremely hot guys second.

When you were away from all your other friends and family for this long, and spent almost all your time with the same seven people, it just became natural to lean on each other like this. Snuggling up to whoever was closest so that you could calm down enough to sleep after a filming day. Jin never complaining when he had to cook for eight people every day. Namjoon sitting with you patiently to help you with your English so that you could interact with fans on twitter. Jimin sneaking out of his room to call his parents so that he didn't wake Yoongi. You taking every opportunity to hug Hobi tightly when you could see he was upset because he hated to be the one needing help from others. You knew each other like the back of your hand, and you loved each other more than you could really even explain.

When you all finally fell asleep you would probably lie in this pile until near midday, each person that got up being extra quiet to let the others have their sleep. The day after filming was always an off day, so that you could recover from whatever the producers threw at you the day before. The afternoon would go by slowly and leisurely, the eight of you eating lunch together, then falling away to spend the time doing whatever you pleased. Jeongguk and Tae liked to hole up in their room and play video games until dinnertime. Namjoon sometimes asked you to go on a walk in the park with him so that he could get some fresh air. Yoongi had bought himself an 88-key digital piano that he was still getting used to using, and if you asked nicely and bribed him with a cup of coffee he would let you sit on his bed while he played a tune for you, something thoughtful and patient or maybe something catchy and hard-hitting.

Jimin was trying to learn how to cook better so that he could help out his hyung, and he loved spending his free-time in the kitchen, watching YouTube videos on how to make fried rice, sneaking around the dorm with a spoon to get Jin to try it. Hoseok would always hang out at the kitchen bar while Jimin fussed around in the kitchen, helping to measure out ingredients and cut vegetables while they chatted amiably about whatever was in their minds at the time.

Jin himself liked watching movies with you but was occasionally found in Tae and Jeongguk's room describing, sports-commentator style, the gameplay as if he had any idea what was going on.

Most of the guys had been living with each other long enough that they were happy to go off and do their own thing when they had the chance, but you still found yourself floating from member to member, wanting desperately to enjoy their company.

But for now, you simply aligned your breathing with Tae's and relaxed, shuffling around so that you could face his chest instead of the ceiling. As you moved, his chest hitched, and you paused, pushing up to see if he had woken up.

His heavy gaze was on you when you looked up at him. His hair was mussed up on one side and flattened against his temple on the other, but his alert gaze told you that he probably hadn't fallen asleep fully in the first place.

You shot him an apologetic smile anyway, and continued wriggling around, stopping only when his hands shot up to hold your hips firmly.

You were still looking straight at him, but you failed to see the problem. It wasn't until you tried to shuffle up again that you felt it.

He raised an eyebrow when your eyes widened in realisation. "Sorry," you mouthed, placing your hands on his chest so that you could hop off him, but his hands didn't waver, in fact pushing down ever harder so that your hips shifted against him. He groaned, and you felt him against your lower stomach.

Although your crotch was on the couch, and not receiving any action at all, the feeling of his hardness against you caused a jolt of energy to shoot through your stomach and down between your legs, where your thighs clenched uselessly together in the hopes of creating some friction.

Of course you had messed around with the guys before. Not that you would ever tell another soul, let alone sweet, innocent Director Lee, but the policy of not having any sexual relations with other members was broken long before you arrived. Your presence certainly exacerbated it, not that you would ever complain.

But most of the time, it was comforting another member, or making drinking games more interesting. Very rarely had anything happened when both (or all) parties were fully stable-minded.

You searched Tae's eyes, which were hooded slightly, for a sign of his intentions. He just breathed out shakily and gave you the slightest nod.

Your gaze fell to the guys around you. There was the youngest and oldest on the couch on the other side of the room from you, both snoring away, and then four more on the ground between you. Namjoon, who just moments before was blinking blearily into his phone screen, had put it down and was stretching out to sleep, but you had no way of knowing if he was actually asleep already or not.

Tae hummed a little, and took one hand off of your waist to turn your chin back to him. With a gentle but mischievous smile, he brought one finger to his lips, pouting a little in a silent 'shh'.

You couldn't help but grin back, nodding your consent, and moving your hands to his shoulders so that you could slide yourself up a little more, dragging slowly over him until your legs lifted up and around him, and two layers of underwear where all that separated the two of you.

Of all the people in the dorm to have initiated something at a time like this, you really hadn't expected Taehyung. He almost always treated you like an older sister, coming to you for advice and comfort rather than plain old company. Even if he did choose to come on to you at all, you figured he would've invited you to his room, or caught you in the laundry room and locked the door, or something equally secure.

But here he was, one hand still on your hip, encouraging you to grind on him while his hyungs slept peacefully three feet away.

It was embarrassing how quickly you soaked through your panties, soon enough feeling the textured drag of wet fabric rather than soft cotton rubbing against your clit. Your breaths were coming out ragged, but still quiet, thankfully, and you were more than content to get yourself off by rolling your hips against him desperately.

Tae had other ideas. Hard as a rock, he lifted his hips so that he could push the fabric of his boxers down. You paused your ministrations and raised yourself up on your knees to give him space, holding back a disappointed whine at your throbbing clit going untouched.

Taehyung was one of the few members, perhaps even the only member, you had never seen fully naked. A little less showy than the others, he hadn't fooled around with anyone much during your drunken truth or dare sessions, and you could honestly say now that the anticipation was truly worth the wait.

If you didn't have to be quiet, you would've asked him where the fuck he hid that thing, but your slack jaw probably gave away the general gist. Your hand fell down between you to hold him securely at the base, marvelling at how heavy he felt in your palm.

He threw his head back at first contact, eyes fluttering shut, abs tensing in an effort to push himself into your hand. Your thumb didn't quite meet your fingers when you grasped him, and you weren't sure you were going to be able to take all of him in this position. You collected some spit in your hand to lube him up enough to start stroking, enough pressure to give him some relief but too slow to get anywhere with it. You sat up onto his thighs so that your other hand could come down too, using your pointer finger to collect the precum leaking from his tip, and bringing it to your mouth. It was a shame he still had his eyes shut and missed it, but you savoured his taste anyway.

After a few minutes of your patient stroking, Tae realised you weren't planning on speeding up, and he tipped his head back down to gaze at you, eyes almost black with dilation. He bats your hand away and reaches out to hook a finger into the sopping fabric between your thighs. His nail scrapes accidentally against your swollen clit and in your surprise, you can't help the desperate whine you let out as your hips shoot forward.

The pair of you freeze, him still with a single finger across your slick folds, you holding your mouth with the hand you had just been jerking him off with.

All is silent. You can hear the whistle of someone's nose as they breathe, a few different pitches of snoring, and Namjoon's periodic sleep grunts. It seems like nobody heard, or at least nobody woke up from the noise.

After a few beats, Taehyung begins to move again, pulling your panties to one side rather than dragging them off you. He puts his other hand around the back of your neck and bend you down until your face is buried in his neck, his pulse jumping against your cheek.

He turns his head slightly so that he can whisper directly into your ear. "Do you want me to finger you first or are you ready for my cock now?"

Hearing your sweet, seemingly innocent Tae whisper that in your ear in the dead of night has you more desperate than ever. You mumble "just fuck me" into the side of his neck, and while he probably didn't hear you, you know he got the sentiment.

He lets go of the back of your neck so that you can straighten up, dragging your now-bare pussy against his cock, lubing it up even more. He stares intensely at the space where the head of his dick slips between your folds.

Slowly, you guide it to your entrance and try to push down. You know that he probably should've fingered you first, but your impatient excitement has you ignoring the searing stretch and pushing yourself down onto him.

The first few inches take a while, both of you sweating with the strain, but once you get the right angle, you slide down, almost bottoming out in one go.

His dick drags against the top of your walls, pushing onto your pubic bone from the inside, and you shudder, clenching around him. Tae's eyes are squeezed tightly shut, brow furrowed as he tries not to thrust up into you before you're ready.

In an effort to take more of him, and feel fuller than you already do, you rotate your hips around him, feeling him hit every spot inside you.

It takes a few moments of muffled groans and bitten lips to get you all the way down, and you feel his cock deeper than anyone's been before. The feeling intensifies when you bend your top half over to lean your elbows on either side of him for better leverage, sucking in an unsteady breath as he moves inside of you.

The muscles in your legs are jumping as you rest on your knees, and you nod at him once your body stops clenching around him so hard. He nods back, and starts to gently buck his hips, rutting into you.

You haven't had full-blown sex with anyone since joining the show, and the feeling of him inside you, the friction against your walls, and his heavy breaths in your ear are enough to get you close to orgasm in minutes. You're finding it harder and harder to keep quiet, and you know he is too with the tightness in his jaw.

Every time he thrusts up into you you clench around him reflexively, and he has to work harder to move at all around your vice-like grip. After a while, your legs start to tire from holding you up, and he struggles to get a steady rhythm from below you.

You shove the blanket off you and onto the floor, not caring if it lands on the carpet or on the body of the person closest to you, and Tae's arms cage you in to his chest, holding you steady as he lifts himself up, still deeply rooted inside you, and shifts you two until you're below him, head leaning back over the armrest.

With better leverage from above, Taehyung grips one of your ankles and lifts it up, pushing your knee into your chest. Your time doing ridiculous stunts on Running Man has surprisingly left you more flexible than you thought, and there's just a small pinch in your inner thigh when he holds your legs open for him.

You expect him to keep his slow, deep rutting from before, but when he looks down and sees you clenching around him, he swears softly under his breath and begins slamming recklessly into you.

Your hand flies up to your mouth to muffle the keening sound that leaves you, the delicious stretch and constant dragging against your upper wall too much to handle. Your ab muscles are going haywire and your back arches up wildly.

The pleasure he's striking inside you is too much by itself, especially as you find yourself hurtling towards an orgasm, and in your lust driven haze you don't even realise how loud each thrust is. With eyes rolling into the back of your hand, you use your free hand to rub frantic circles against your slick clit in the hopes of cumming as fast as you can, holding your breath as you focus intensely on that beautiful edge.

When you begin pleasuring yourself, you hear a whine, and it surprises you that Tae would make a noise so high-pitched, but you're too far gone to care. With one final thrust, you're thrown over the edge, and your legs latch around Tae's behind, ankles interlocking to hold him as close as you possibly can.

He groans deeply as your muscles squeeze him, and he struggles to move. You continue rubbing your clit, biting your other hand as you finally come down from your high.

Once you do, your legs ache from being overworked in such high bursts, and you finally relax enough to let Tae move again. You shudder one last time when he slips out, pussy still pulsing regularly, feeling emptier than ever.

All of your energy has been sapped, and you let your legs fall down uselessly, trying to catch your breath.

Tae has one hand propping himself up, and he reaches down with the other to chase his own end, the wet noise echoing in the silent room. With a few more pants, he lets out one slow breath, and you feel his cum fall onto the bottom of your stomach and the front of your panties, ruining them if they weren't already.

He collapses on top of you, probably smearing his cum into his shirt, but he doesn't seem to care. If any of the members were to wake up, turn the light on and see you there, you're sure you both would've looked atrocious. You, in a baggy t-shirt and soaked panties, still bunched up and exposing half of your pussy, and Tae, with a sweaty shirt and boxers around his ankles, exposing his ass to the open air.

The pair of you sit like that, heaving, for about half an hour. Once you finally get the energy to stand, you hear someone shuffle around on the floor, presumably getting comfortable in their sleep.

Taehyung gets up and pulls you up off the couch with him, using the light from his phone screen to make sure there are no wet patches or puddles of semen on the couch. Once he's satisfied, he leads you to the bathroom.

The bright light causes you to squint, and your legs are still shaky, but you grab a packet of wet wipes from in the vanity drawers, and wipe up as much wetness off of you as you can. You strip out of your underwear and shove them in the trash can, glad you had put on raggedy black cotton panties instead of any decent pair.

Still silent even though the other guys wouldn't hear you from there, the pair of you went back to your room so you could grab some fresh underwear, then Tae's so he could swap out his stained shirt.

Before he leaves to go back to the lounge, you wrap your fingers around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He stares at you expectantly.

"Do we-" you break off and clear out your throat so it's not so unsteady, and try again. "Do we tell the others? Or keep this a secret?"

He sighs deeply, eyes wandering around the room as he considers. "We can be honest if they ask, but we don't have to tell them anything straight away." You nod slowly. He smiles down at you, then tugs his hand in a gesture to keep moving. "I had a lot of fun, but I know it's not fair to expect you to just be with one of us. We're all in this together."

Maybe if it wasn't almost four in the morning, you would've been able to process what it was he meant by that. But it was almost four in the morning, and he had just fucked your brains out while in a room full of sleeping people, so you just nodded again tiredly and let him lead you back to the couch.

The pair of you were asleep within minutes, leaving only one person still wide awake.

A/N: Here is the smutty sequel (yoongi x reader x hoseok) as promised :)

#bts x reader #running man bangtan #bts fic #bts au #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts smut #namjoon x reader #jin x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader smut #yoongi x reader #jeongguk x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #hoseok x reader

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ketsuekki · 5 years

Text

Updated Dossier!

Minami Keumi is a terrorist from Kirigakure, most known for targeting important politicians and figures of power, greatly disrupting the Land Of Water’s internal affairs and relations with other countries. She defected from the Mist at age fourteen following an attempt on her life and successful murder of her twin, both actions sanctioned by the village after the knowledge of their kekkei genkai came to light. She reached the status of an A Rank criminal at age nineteen, and became involved with the Akatsuki at twenty-two. Currently has a 65 million ryo bounty on her head.

NAME: Minami Keumi

ALIASE(S): Bloody Wraith, Red Oni

AGE: 25 [Shippuden; default]

D.O.B: 22nd of May

GENDER: Cis female

SEXUALITY: Closeted bisexual with heavy preference for women

NOTABLE CONDITIONS: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, dyslexia, possible separation anxiety

APPEREANCE: Minami is a noticeably intimidating presence no matter where she is. She stands at 186cm and has an athletic build with strong, broad shoulders and narrow hips. Her arms and legs, her arms bearing the most, are covered in scars and healing cuts from the self-harm she inflicts on a daily basis. Her legs also have a few clusters of telangiectasia varicose veins, small blue ‘spider webs’ appearing on her right thigh and ankle. Even without her body, Minami is still quite the standout woman. She has dark green hair cut into an inverted bob, alongside a pair of matching green eyes. Her face, while pretty, in set in an eternally annoyed expression.

NATIONALITY: Formerly a Land of Water citizen and Kirigakure born shinobi.

OCCUPATION: Mercenary, Akatsuki agent

AFFILIATIONS: Kirigakure, Kiba, Hato, Akatsuki

MISC: Graduated from the Academy at age nine, became a chunin and defected at fourteen

PERSONALITY: At a surface level she is a vengeful, spiteful and sadistic woman incapable of mercy or sparing a single thought to anyone in her way. Once you wrong her, she will never forget. She will never stop being angry. She will never give up in trying to hurt you back. An eye for an eye? Take her eye and she’ll take both of yours, as well your limbs. Determination runs through her veins like fire, and once she has a goal… Not even the gods could stop her from reaching it.

Beyond this furious, fearsome front? She’s a pathetic woman. Minami is someone afraid to face her own emotions, her own thoughts, her own actions. Hypocrisy stains her every word; she loves to preach dignity, while having little to none herself. The few morals she has are ignored when she wishes to, stomped into the ground the second they become inconvenient to her aims. Her speeches mean little, nothing but empty words spoken so she can feel superior in any way she can.

With others, excluding those who piss her off, she can actually be surprisingly pleasant at times! Friendly, even. Minami enjoys joking and banter, relishing the temporary distraction from her own problems. Hell, a few pranks here and there are also enjoyable! Minami's also quite the amusing person too, oh so flustered and embarrassed at the slightest dip into the scandalous.

It’s rather easy to gain her affection when you play your cards right, for she is desperate for any kind of companionship. Minami laughs just a little too hard, angers a little too quickly, and becomes attached far, far too fast. Earning your spot in her heart is tricky at first, but once you do? All that viciousness, all that loyalty – they’re yours to command at will, forever. Minami would destroy the entire world if those she loved wished it to be destroyed. She lacks any sense of self worth, viewing her existence as only justified by her usefulness to her precious people. The second she becomes without purpose... Minami flocks to death like a moth to a flame, eager to burn to nothing.

BACKGROUND: She was born in Kirigakure to Rui and Hanko Keumi, except she wasn’t born alone. She had been beaten in the race out her mother’s room by Kiseki, her identical twin sister. From the second the two met, still covered in all sorts of fluids and viscera, they formed an unbreakable, overwhelming bond. They never spent a moment apart, babbling and dancing together for all their waking hours. Minami loved Kiseki more than anyone, and Kiseki loved Minami more than everyone.

The two entered the Academy at age five. While struggling in more traditional lessons, Minami and Kiseki excelled in the various ninja arts. Far too aware of their village’s highly competeitve nature, Minami became a violent bully who beat the other children into submission as she cemented their position at the top of the food chain.

They graduated at age nine, both killing a prisoner of war to prove their worth as a ninja. A few years prior and they may have ended up killing each other, but the village had begun to treat their graduates more carefully after Zabuza’s stunt. No more classmate slaughtering; there weren’t enough kids to spare for such methods anymore.

Minami and Kiseki were placed in Team Three, joined by a boy named Sora and led by the jonin Akira Tanaka. After five years as a rather sought out unit, the three genins were considered veteran enough to take part in the Chunin exams. Thus began Minami’s spiral of tragedy.

During the last section, Team Three were nearly decimated by Iwagakure ninja. The Chunin Exams were, after all, a war by proxy. Iwa and Kiri resented each other, and the recent Yosuga Pass incident only spurned their hatred. It was only natural the two teams chose each other as their final enemies. Already injured and exhausted, Team Three didn’t stand a chance. Minami was beaten into a state of complete agony, and her sister’s screams became the catalyst to the awakening of her kekkei genkai - the Blood Release, inherited from her mother’s Inoue genes. The Iwa genin were killed, ripped apart and mangled beyond recognition. Kiseki and Sora, on the verge of unconsciousness, were left as the only witnesses to Minami’s awful power.

They returned home. Sora snitched. The twins were deemed to be both dangerous and traitorous. Their deaths were sanctioned. The Keumi couple fled, leaving their daughters to their seemingly inescapable fate. They were right, in a way. Kiseki was murdered, skull smashed to bits by a well timed earth style. But they were also wrong. Minami didn’t die. She managed to get out of the village, her sister’s body carried on her back. She abandoned Kiseki’s corpse out of necessity, left nestled in a meadow, and ran. Oh, how she ran! Minami was entered into the Bingo Book as a C-Rank criminal, responsible for the killing of two Kirigakure ninja sent to assassinate her.

She made her way to the Land of Fire, finding herself in an Inuzuka’s clutches. His power and gang (named Kiba) offered her protection from the Hunters, but she had do many, many disgusting things to maintain his promise of safety. Under his tutelage her power grew exponentially, and she began her rampant killings of Water officials. With each murder, the victim found hung by their own guts, she left the symbol of her extinct clan painted with blood.

At age sixteen, practically seventeen, Minami gave birth to a son. She named him Hisoka and abandoned him after three days in the Land of Wind.

Shortly after, she killed his father and left Kiba. Minami would join a few organizations, using them as temporary meat shields from the Hunters, but she eventually went for the ‘lone wolf’ approach. She was nineteen years old when her rank in all the village’s Bingo Books was updated to A-rank. By then, she was strong enough to confidently fight those who came for her head alone.

At twenty-two, Minami killed Akira Tanaka. That woman had been like a mother to her, but she had been the one to crush Kiseki’s skull. All love Minami ever had for anyone, especially Akira, died the second Kiseki did. It was a slow and painful; sister killers didn’t deserve a nice and peaceful way out. No, no, no. They had to suffer.

The Akatsuki scouted her out after that, offering her a role as an agent to be called on and asked to do miscellaneous missions. Minami agreed, impressed by those who sought her out.

At twenty-five, she was promoted to a genuine member of the Akatsuki. Not that it was much of an achievement, mind you. Everyone else had died, so there wasn’t much choice... Although the true identity of ‘Madara’ had left her in shock, she eagerly obeyed his orders and joined his strange war. Sora had escaped her grasp for eleven years. Slippery bastard. But, now? With her being the enemy of an allied army and him being a soldier of said army? He couldn’t avoid her anymore!

Minami got her wish. She found Sora and tore him in half, making sure he lived for as long as he could in that state to see his comrades die. However, reinforcements came just a minute after her long awaited revenge came to fruition. Minami had finally completed her goal. There was no longer any reason to force herself to keep living. She barely put up a fight, losing her left arm in the ensuing struggle. For some reason, Minami found herself running. And dying from chakra depletion. She had already used most of it in her battle with Sora, but this new unwanted amputation... It was draining up everything left faster and faster. By the end, Minami couldn’t even move. She collapsed onto the ground, surrounded by flowers. It was nice. Quiet. Peaceful. She had gone numb a while ago, so the pain of having a stump for an arm didn’t even bother her.

Did she deserve to die like this, so calmly and joyfully? Perhaps. Perhaps not. But that’s what happened. As she lost every drop of chakra in her body, she found herself growing tired. Minami closed her eyes, and never opened them again.

The alliance soon found her body and placed it inside a scroll for safekeeping. Over the course of the war, it was lost during transit and never recovered.

#this killed me to write #*information #i am not updating her dossier for another year or two istg #this is shit but it does the job so?? take it or leave it B^)

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radreactions · 6 years

Note

A F!SS mentioning a little while back to companions that they wanted to be more affectionate and a little while later they are scooped up by companions and carried to their bedroom to snuggle and stuff?

Sole walked up to their significant other, pecking them on the cheek and offering a shy smile when their gazes met. “I don’t suppose you’d be up for a night in together after I get back, would you?” Their lover nodded, said their goodbyes with a hug and a kiss and watched as Sole walked away, already planning on how to make up for the little time they’ve spent together for these past few weeks.

Cait – Being affectionate was new to Cait, so she really had to push herself into unfamiliar territory when it came to this. But it was for Sole and there was literally nothing in the world she wouldn’t do for them. So when they finally returned from their trip, Cait took in a deep breath and marched towards them in a way that Sole thought they had done something to piss her off. Only, when Cait reached them, they was pulled into a passionate kiss which left them breathless and quite off balance. Thankfully Cait’s arms were wrapped securely around them, otherwise they probably would have toppled over. “Come on, love, I got somethin’ planned for ya.” That ‘something’ was a feast of slightly overcooked Brahmin steak, mutfruit and vodka cocktails along with a candlelit bedroom and a very welcoming bed where they’ll inevitably end up after a night of cheesy flirting, longing glances and tight snuggles. After she crossed this threshold, never to return, Cait finds herself unconsciously touching Sole when they’re out and about. Her hand on the small of her lover’s back, their thighs touching while sitting next to each other. Hell, Cait even made a habit of waltzing up to Sole at random points throughout the day only to plant a soft, promising kiss upon their lips before walking away with a smirk.

Curie – It was hard for Curie to believe that at one point in her life, she hardly had any kind of real understanding of romance and love, but oh was she so very in love now. Countless romance novels had fed her mind full of cute little ideas and things that Curie simply must try with Sole in the future, but when Sole returns home she resorts to the things that she knows Sole adores. Sole will walk into their home wondering where Curie is, only to find a trail of mutfruit petals leading into their bathroom where they find Curie soaking in a tub of hot bubbly water with two sparkling glasses of red wine ready and waiting. Curie will beckon for Sole to join her with a wide, loving smile and she’ll snuggle into Sole’s loving arms, feeling her lover’s body slowly begin to relax while they share soft words and loving touches until the water gets cold.Curie is one of those hopeless romantics, insisting on feeding Sole mutfruit grapes one by one while picnicking together in secluded spots, holding hands whenever they are walking together and she’s even been known to search for the largest, most beautiful flower just to gift to Sole in an effort to show them how much she simply adores them.

Danse – Showing affection is new to the Paladin. After all, it’s not like he can really say to Sole “Good job, soldier” which is the usual phrase used in the Brotherhood to give effect to just such a thing. But nevertheless, he makes an effort for when Sole comes back to him. He greets them at the gate of the settlement with a soft kiss and a warm smile before looping his arm around their waist, walking leisurely back to their home with the intent on sharing a shower together which almost certainly leads to some steamy shower sex.Making love to Sole is his default method of showing affection, because holding hands and allowing himself to be distracted enough to kiss them out in the Commonwealth is just not the way he operates, nor is it something he wants other people to see. But Sole is quite persuasive and often gets him to cuddle them and hold them close when they fib and say they’re freezing cold.

Deacon – As the undisputable King of romance and affection himself, Deacon will waste no time when Sole returns back from their long trip. He lights candles, cooks up their favourite meals and practically picks up them up and carries them into their shared house with a wide devilish grin. From there he plops them on the couch in front of the softly lit fireplace and snuggles with them until their meals are ready. A hot, steamy bubble bath awaits them as does the new leopard print thong Deacon found just the other day. Well okay maybe the thong isn’t for Sole to wear, but it’s for them nonetheless!He makes a habit of swooping Sole away from their responsibilities to both the Minutemen and the Railroad in favour of spontaneous dates that can take them to places like Diamond City and their own secluded boathouse near Salem. Although they probably won’t go anywhere near Goodneighbour for a while, considering the Mayor there found both him and Sole going at it in one of the alleyways near the Statehouse. Yet another perk of loving Deacon – he has Sole rearing to go using barely a word.

Gage – He loves Sole so fucking much, but when it comes to showing more affection to them he’ll find himself struggling quite a lot. Just how the heck is Sole expecting him to become all mushy in the name of love? He knows he loves them, they know he loves them, the entirety of Nuka World knows he loves them, so why does he gotta find just the right damn flower in the desert or write a poem to give to them when they come back to make it known more? Despite his grievances however, Gage will compromise and substitute sentimentality for physical love. A hand on Sole’s ass, a hard possessive kiss and hell, giving them some new kickass gear was a way of showing affection right? And sex, most definitely more sex.

Hancock – Sharing his chems and crashing together in the same bed aren’t displays of affection, he knows and quite often feels bad about. They deserve a lot more than that from him. So, in an effort to give more for his lovely old timer, he’ll tell them he loves them more often, he’ll give them sweet smooches when they don’t expect it and every so often, they’ll find grifts for them waiting in conspicuous places with their name written in Hancock’s signature scrawl. He’ll actually try to write neatly too. He can’t wait to do this for them when they get back from this trip of theirs, when they’ll find him sitting outside the door to Goodneighbour waiting on them with a smug grin on his face like he’s just won the lottery. In his mind, he already has.

MacCready – Growing up, he was never affectionate to the other Lamplighters or at least, not in a way that would suggest anything of the sort. He didn’t want to feel anything for anyone. It was safer that way, easy, because sooner or later everyone leaves or dies or hurts you in some other way. But Lucy and little Duncan changed that belief of his. They made MacCready softer somehow in his heart, less a hired gun and more like a person with actual feelings who saw the value in loving someone else. Sole was the final piece that unlocked the puzzle of his heart and before he knew it, they had him catching himself grinning like an idiot more often every day. He’s the type to wrap his arm securely around their shoulders when walking together, pull out a chair for Sole at a table before seating himself and curling up with them on the couch after their hard day travelling to just relax together. He tells stupid jokes to try and make them laugh because he thinks that’s the most beautiful sound in the world. He tickles them relentlessly because of the same reason, despite the small bruises they half-heartedly complain of the following day. It really is the little things that he does which are a testament to his affections for Sole.

Maxson – He wants to show them how he really feels about them as each day goes by and they fall more and more in love, but his responsibilities to the Brotherhood means that they don’t have the liberty of holding hands and having dinner dates together. Although he will allot a timeslot where he and Sole can walk arm in arm on the shoreline below the Prydwen at noon and whenever they come back from lengthy field missions and dangerous assignments like the one they’re on, he’ll always ensure that their dinner is brought to his quarters and that they won’t be disturbed. However, there are times when he and Sole are tinkering on a gun or something of the sort in Ingram’s workshop, that they’ll forget where they are and how many eyes are on them and accidentally say or do something that would cause even Danse to blush bright scarlet. One time, Sole grabbed Maxson’s ass with both hands before they could even think to stop themselves and one of the senior scribes was so shocked that they almost dropped the Mini Nuke they were transporting.

Nick Valentine – He’s not sure how anyone could find him loveable, with his lovely mug and all. But Sole…Sole is someone to be cherished and Nick makes sure to pull out all the stops when he’s with them. Flowers, boxes of their favourite sweets gifted to them and random moments when the radio is playing when Nick slips his arm around Sole and gracefully leads them into a slow, sensual dance like in the romance movies. It doesn’t take them to be gone for a while for Nick to show his affection for them in this way. Instead, it’s how he always treats them, because he knows from past experience the kind of regret one can have if you don’t do what you’ve always wanted to do with the one you love before it’s too late. He doesn’t care if they’re in public and Sole wants a cuddle or if he’s got too much work to catch up on and Sole needs him beside them in bed, he always choses Sole. After all, he loves them to the moon and back.

Piper Wright – Being the absolute cuddle-monster that she is, Piper will waste not a single second when her Blue returns home. First comes the massive bear hug that leaves Sole giggling like a schoolchild (after Piper nearly tripped over while running to them) and then comes the customary offer of an ice-cold Nuka Cola, before Piper near about drags Sole to her couch for a lengthy cuddle/making out session where they probably end up falling asleep together until Nat comes home and loudly slams the door in her usual fashion.On a scale of 1 to 10 regarding how affectionate she can be, Piper scores a solid 50. Sole falls asleep in her arms and wakes up in her arms, they walk arm in arm and flirt back and forth like no tomorrow, and Sole is near constantly accosted with Piper’s hands one way or another. Whether it be the reporter’s hand in theirs or on their back or on their butt, in their hair or in their jumpsuit��the list goes on and on. And Sole doesn’t mind it one bit.

Preston Garvey – Much like Piper, Sole doesn’t have to ask for Preston to be more affectionate to them, he already is. Every night he strives to make their meals together as romantic as he possibly can, being an old world gentleman at heart who holds open doors for them, holds their hand and defends their honour no matter how small the transgression. Warm smiles are always worn when he gazes at Sole, when he merely thinks of Sole, and it gets even brighter when Sole sees and smiles back. When they finally return from that long crusade of theirs, he is always the first to greet them at the gate. Heck, perhaps the only one to greet them, because he’s shooed everybody else away so that he can have the General all to himself for the rest of the day or evening.

X6-88 – Affection is still quite new to the Courser and he finds himself stumbling over different ideas and methods when it comes to giving more to Sole. He knows cuddling is often the main method, so he waits inside their home for Sole to return with his shirt off and a pair of track pants on (comfortable clothes, Deacon had said), and found himself quite surprised but not at all chagrined when a little while later, he’s left panting after pleasing a suddenly lustful Sole. He is left even more curious as to where exactly the line lay between showing affection and fucking like animals, but settles with the thought that the terms are essentially synonymous.When it comes to daily living, he makes an effort to make Sole feel loved, whether it’s through his subtle flirtatious comments, an approving grin and of course the spontaneous moments just when Sole needs him most, he comes up behind them and pulls them close while resting his chin atop their head. His mere presence around Sole denotes undying affection.

#was a purposeful referece to Wentworth in there #anyone pick it up?#fuck I love that show #10/10 would recommend #cait #curie #danse #deacon #hancock #gage #porter gage #maccready #maxson #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #x6-88 #fallout 4 #companions react

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nyerus · 7 years

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Nyerus’ Victuuri Fic Rec List

These are in no particular order, really, just a list of my fave Victuuri fics—some of which I think a little less well known (but idk). I’ve been sitting on this for SO LONG that some of the “lesser known” ones are huge now hahaha! I’ll probably make a page for this or something later.

I pulled the “genres” mostly from the tags, but basically winged it based on what felt right. Most fics rated as “Explicit” in this list have smut in them so keep that in mind, but I’ve made special annotations as need be. I’ve also mentioned if there are any significant side pairings.

I’ve added mini-reviews (kinda) as well, which are just my personal thoughts on a fic without getting too spoilery, but you can feel free to skip them.

Current count:

Canon:7

AU: 21

(Quite long, so under a cut).

Canonverse

1.) Heartbreaker by drowsycyborg (Status: Complete – 3.1k words) – Teen

Genres: Pre-series, Outsider PoV, Detroit Days, Humor

Katsuki Yuuri is five foot eight, shy, and one of the most gorgeous and heartbreaking humans ever seen in Detroit.

In which Yuuri is Too Beautiful and Good and no one around him knows how to be chill about it. And thus, he unwittingly breaks a lot of hearts in Detroit. Set pre-series, it’s hilarious to see people lament over the sweet, lovely Katsuki Yuuri (long before we see poor Victor fall victim in-canon). Possibly part of a future series?

2.) katsuki_fc wrote by tetsurashian (Status: Complete – 12.7k words) – Gen

Genres: Social Media, Outsider PoV

Just because Yuuri isn’t big on social media, doesn’t mean his fans aren’t.(aka a social media fic)

Basically the series seen through a social media lens. In other words, the social media reactions one would expect to see in-canon if we got a glimpse of it! It feels very realistic and even incorporates actual fandom discourse (e.g. early fan theories and shipping). A huge round of applause for the author for getting AO3’s formatting to still somehow feel like LJ threads, Tumblr posts, and so on! I’ve read this like a dozen times already and always laugh when I do because it feels sooooo meta.

3.) Distance by surverycorpsjean (Status: Complete – 5.1k words) – Explicit

Genres: Post-series, Domestic, Fluff, Smut

They just can’t stand to be apart.

Victor and Yuuri never outgrow their honeymoon phase and it’s amazing and perfect. Adorable domestic fluff with some great smut (kitchen sex!) in the middle. (It’s set post-canon.) Without a doubt I can say: A+++

4.) The Fundamentals of Caring by braveten (Status: Complete – 20.8k words ) – Explicit

Genres: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

“Let me guess, you’re going to go take care of Yuuri while he sleeps? Just in case he sneezes or something?” Yurio rolls his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “Viktor, you’re whipped.”

Viktor rubs the back of his neck as he leans against the wall. “What does that mean?”

“It means that if Yuuri asked you to do a little dance for him in nothing but a coconut bra and a hula skirt, you’d do it.”

Viktor pauses, confused. “And that’s a bad thing?”

Yuuri gets sick while in Russia (not post-series) and Victor tries to take care of him while simultaneously trying to be Chill about it—but a deliriously affectionate Yuuri makes that very difficult. Yurio is eventually recruited to help and he makes Victor’s job harder and easier at the same time, somehow. Very cute!

5.) Lace and Satin by whatsup_buttercup (Status: Complete – 6.2k words) – Explicit

Genres: Established Relationship, Post-series, Lingerie, Light BDSM

“I won gold.” Viktor says, smile in his voice. “Whatever does that mean, Yuuri?”

Yuuri looks down. “Are you sure you don’t want something better?”

“There’s nothing better.” Viktor insists. “Nothing.”

Hoooooo boy! This fic hits basically EVERY single one of my kink so well and honestly I’m grateful it exists. Criminally underrated because it’s so well written and even the dirty talk is A+. It’s technically part of a series but can also work as a standalone (but do yourself a favor and read the other fic in this series too!!!).

6.) Need by sub_textual (Status: Complete – 8.2k) – Explicit

Genres: Post-series, Smut, Semi-public sex

What stands before Viktor now isn’t at all the Yuuri that had stripped off his clothes in front of a hundred people. This is Yuuri, beautiful and blushing, shy in all the ways Viktor knows he isn’t, too embarrassed to express what he really wants. This is Yuuri, abandoning the clasp of Viktor’s pants, to slowly undo Viktor’s tie. This is Yuuri, desperate and needy, ripe and ready for the taking, and he’s all Viktor’s.

Takes place directly after the series, during the banquet. Victor and Yuuri sneak off to the bathroom and get frisky. This fic is hot, ok. There’s a slight dab of exhibitionism and some dom/sub which makes things more exciting!

7.) Jason's Master Plan (to dating the Cute Asian Guy) by Qwertzu (Status: Complete – 9.8k words) – Teen

Genres: Post-series, Outsider PoV, Humor, Identity Reveal

Jason Hesling, young ice hockey prodigy, rising star of Detroit Ice Tigers and part-time model, had a smile that made women and men alike weak at their knees. It’s been a while since anyone managed to catch his attention – until he met the Cute Asian Guy at Detroit Ice Castle and decided to become his next boyfriend.

Meanwhile, the actual Ice Tiger™ is having the time of his life watching the pretentious JJ-wannabe trying to charm the pants off the completely oblivious, happily married Katsudon.

Hockey jock Jason tries his hardest to woo the “cute Asian guy at Detroit Ice Castle” but isn’t it too bad that said cutie is already happily married to someone else? If only if poor Jason knew.... This fic is honestly a riot and I had such a fun time reading it (and its follow-up fic). It seems to be part of a longer series and I eagerly await more installments! I guess I have a thing for Victuuri breaking everyone’s hearts by being so smitten with each other!

Alternate Universe

1.) Healthy Impropriety by mtothedestiel (Status: Complete – 29.5k words) – Explicit

Genres: Regency AU, Historical, Courtship

Victor is the wealthy master of the Nikiforov estate. At a society party he’s swept off his feet by the mysterious, suave, and very drunk Katsuki Yuuri. Victor aims to declare his love and secure Mr. Katsuki’s hand in marriage, but first he has to find him!

A legit Regency AU in which The Banquet happens Victorian-style and Victor, as always, falls head over heels for drunk Yuuri—who he then sets out to properly court. Victor is a rich, hopeless romantic and Yuuri is a sensible, normal guy trying to live his life. There’s lots of really cute, fluffy scenes between these two with a little bit of angst thrown in there to keep things interesting. It reads like a Jane Austen novel and has a lovely happy ending topped off with some smut!

2.) don’t want to be lonely just want to be yours by Linisy (Status: Incomplete) – Explicit

Genres: Idol AU, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Social Media, Alternating PoV

This time the flesh and blood Yuuri wasn't around to distract him, and he watched the video intently, hypnotized by the swing of Yuuri’s hips, the look in his eyes that burned with intensity and the strong, confident line of his shoulders. Yuuri was, as always, breathtaking.

Victor remembered their first meeting well. Yuuri was the last member to join the group. He was soft spoken, and he stood as if he were trying to make himself smaller, shoulders drawn inward, head tilted toward the ground, glasses slipping off his nose. Victor was surprised to hear that he was the second oldest behind Victor himself.

Everything changed the first time he saw him dance. - Vitya, Katsu, Yura, Beka and Chu make up the top idol group SVD. They've been through hell together, living in their tiny dorm and working toward the day they'd finally hit it big. That day has finally come, but sometime over the course of the past three years, Victor has fallen in love with Yuuri Katsuki.

An idol fic that’s full of social media shenanigans, glamour, and emotions. Based on KPop idol groups (like BTS), this fic is a such treat and I can’t even properly articulate why!!! Along with the humor, it’s also incredibly realistic regarding the hardships faced by idol groups due to the heavy restrictions placed on their personal lives by the company that “owns” them. It’s got the right mix of fun and angst and honestly I think about this fic every day. I can’t wait for more!!!!

3.) My Name on Your Lips by feelslikefire (Status: Complete – 108k words) – Explicit

Genres: Historical Fantasy, Magic, Arranged Marriage, Royalty, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Yuuri Katsuki has been betrothed to the High King’s son, Victor, since he was just a child; furthermore, as an omega, he’s forbidden from practicing magic in combat. For years, he’s been able to put off the former because the Prince was traveling abroad, and gotten around the latter by practicing with his mentor in secret.

Now Victor Nikiforov has finally returned home, and Yuuri is being summoned to the capital for their wedding. He needs a plan to put off marriage long enough to find a way to break the betrothal, while keeping his practicing from being discovered.

If only the Prince didn’t have other ideas.

(Or, the swords-and-sorcery arranged marriage AU. Updates weekly.)

This is one of my personal favorites, featuring all my fave things: fantasy, magic, battles, intrigue, and a slow-burn! It does have A/B/O elements but even if that’s not your cup of tea you’ll enjoy this fic for all the other wonderful things it has to offer. The world building is great and the plot keeps you interested at all times. Never a dull moment and has a great mix of tension, fluff, angst, etc. Watch these two dorks fall deeply in love while also getting a fully fleshed-out story. It’s beautifully written.

4.) Yuuri Enchanted by the__magpie (Status: Complete – 57k words) – Teen

Genres: Fantasy, Fairytale, Slow Burn

At birth, Yuuri Katsuki was given the gift of obedience, although he quickly learns as he grows up that it is a curse. He has to obey any command given to him, even if it puts him or others in danger. Too afraid to face the terrifying outside world, Yuuri stays in his home town of Hasetsu, until a chance encounter with Prince Victor urges him to venture outside of his safe bubble. Determined to break his curse, Yuuri begins on an adventure involving fairies, ogres, true love, and courage he never knew he had.

An Ella Enchanted AU (based more on the book)! A great fairytale read even if you’ve never read the book (or seen the movie). I love it to bits and that’s all I can say!

5.) Retrouvailles by persephoneggsy (Status: Complete – 32k words) – Teen*

Genres: Historical, Childhood Friends, Friends-to-Lovers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

retrouvailles: the feeling one gets after reuniting after a long time

After he presents as an Omega, Yuuri Katsuki is sent to study abroad for ten long years. When he returns, he’s far, far different from the adorable little boy that used to follow Victor around like a puppy.

Victor is shook.

A very sweet AU that has that regency-vibe. Features confident ballet dancer Yuuri and hopeless mess Victor. The Russian skating team is all one big family here and it’s great, while all the other skaters are dancers too. It has a shifting perspective between Victor and Yuuri, so we get to see what’s going on in both their heads. The A/B/O is pretty light apart from some plot details, so if that’s not your thing this fic is still very enjoyable. [*There is smut in the final chapter, which can be standalone/ignored, hence why the rating remains T overall.]

6.) A Place Like Home by whatsup_buttercup (Status: Complete -- 7k words) -- Explicit

Genres: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Post-series, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

“Do you still skate, Yuuri?” It’s bold of Hiroshi to use his first name, but the familiarity makes sense, considering what they’re discussing.

“No,” Yuuri says, empty. “Not anymore.”

Hiroshi reaches out and puts his hand over Yuuri’s. It’s a little hot from the tea. “If you choose me, we have a rink nearby. I’ll make sure you can skate every day.”

This is a heartbreaking A/B/O in which Yuuri ended things with Victor in Barcelona and is now under pressure to find a suitable mate. Luckily, Victor hasn’t give up on them, no matter what Yuuri may think. It’s a lovely and achingly sweet story, and I was so happy by the end!!!

7.) blood is thicker than by icanhinatashouyoutheworld (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres: Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Custody Battle, Angst, Fluff, Eventual Romance

“You might be Yuri’s biological parent, Mr. Nikiforov. But I’m his father. If Yuri wants to go with you, that’s one thing,” Yuuri Katsuki’s voice flows quiet and dangerous into the room “but if he doesn’t, don’t think that you’re taking my child away from home,”

Or: Victor Nikiforov finds out he has a son. He wants full custody.

Katsuki Yuuri isn’t going to give up his child that easily.

Or: Victor and Yuuri fight a custody battle for Yurio. Shit happens.

Or: Yuri Plisetsky starts with one parent, and ends up with two.

A unique fic in which Victor is Yurio’s biological father, while Yuuri is his adoptive one. Yuuri is struggling to make ends meet and support his child while Victor is a rich supermodel. The relationship between Yuuri and Yurio is so achingly sweet and it’s very easy to root for Yuuri in this fic. It’ll be great to see how Yuuri and Victor eventually become friends and then lovers—so that they all become one big happy family!

8.) Kings in Couture by slightlied (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres:Slow Burn, Alternate Occupations, Fashion

a devil wears prada au in which victor is the editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine, yuuri’s his new secretary, and instead of talking about his feelings, victor just sends him on a bunch of errands

A Devil Wears Prada-esque AU which I stumbled upon and am SO grateful for. It’s funny, cute, and features the whole cast in various roles. Yuuri is adorable and Victor is glamorous as ever. It’s such a fun read!!!

9.) Assassin’s Tango by MEIXIU (Status: Incomplete) – Explicit

Genres: Assassins AU, Secret Identity

They are the world’s most greatest assassins. Their identities are a secret, even from each other. One day, however, they discover that they have been assigned to kill one another and their reality comes crashing down on them both.

This is basically a Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU and I’m super excited about it! Features Victor as a suave hitman who’s still a hopeless romantic, and Yuuri as a clever honeypot—who’s juggling his job, school, and his new whirlwind romance. Lots of hot scenes mingled with fluff. Impending angst on the horizon, but the promise of a happy ending keeps me from crying too hard!

10.) The Rules for Lovers by ADreamingSongbird (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres: Urban Fantasy, Urban Magic, Arranged Marriage, Mutual Pining, Royalty, Multiple PoV

Prince Yuuri Katsuki has a duty to his country, above all else (his desires, his dreams, and his happiness included), and he knows this alliance will help to ensure the safety of his people. That’s the only reason he accepts Prince Nikiforov’s hand in marriage. The pleasant surprise, of course, is the part where they fall in love along the way. The unpleasant one, well…

That’s a long story.

It’s always a treat to watch these two dorks fall hopelessly in love with each other. They might be engaged, but the mutual pinging intense and heart-wrenching. The political intrigue is just as compelling as Yuuri and Victor’s evolving relationship. The story shifts between many character’s perspectives, keeping things interesting. (And there’s some side Mila/Sara too!)

11.) I Write Sins, Not Tragedies by cuttlemefish (Status: Incomplete) -- Explicit

Genres: Arranged Marriage, Social Media, Mutual Pining, Romantic Comedy, Fluff

Things would be a little easier if Yuuri wasn’t so in love with his husband Viktor, especially considering they have an arranged marriage. Two years after their wedding, Yuuri and Viktor are incredibly in love, but can’t seem to get over the hump of their platonic union to consummate their marriage! Good thing Yuuri is the most (in)famous erotic fanfiction author of the Love in the Streets fandom. Now, he’s got the support of the Internet to figure out how to seduce his husband, if only he can continue to keep their identities a secret. Or, the AU in which everyone thinks Yuuri and Viktor have the perfect marriage full of adventurous sex when, in fact, Viktor sleeps in the guest bedroom and Yuuri writes erotic fanfiction to quench his thirst.

This is a HILARIOUS fic and that’s all I can really even say without doing this work a grave injustice. It’s very well-written and there’s no angst like I thought there would be. Just extreme thirst!!! Can’t wait to see these two get their shit together eventually and work off all that pent-up sexual frustration.

12.) Like a Fairytale by lucyamui (Status: Complete – 73.4k words) – Teen

Genres: Historical, Fairytale, Royalty, Fluff

In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his ‘Cinderella’ Yuuri. (And Phichit is the fairy godmother who has no idea what he’s doing)

A Cinderella story in which the Grand Prix Banquet happens, in its own fairytale way. This story features enthusiastic Prince Victor and timid baker/pâtissier Yuuri. Along with Phichit as the Fairy God Mother! It’s fluffy, cute, and has plenty of mutual pining.

13.) lie to make me like you by cityboys (Status: Complete – 80k words) – Mature

Genres:Slow Burn, Alternate Occupations

It’s become a game, of sorts, to anyone privy to the fact that the pattern exists in the first place: ask Victor out at the beginning of the month, date for however many days, and wait for the end to come and for Victor to say, always: I couldn’t fall in love with you. Let’s break up.

Or, Victor is a retired actor looking for love, and Yuuri happens to be the (un)fortunate soul to unwittingly ask him out at the beginning of the month. Except relationships don’t come with a script, and it’s much harder understanding love than roles.

This is a wonderful and sweet slow burn featuring a lost Victor who’s trying to find something he doesn’t know he’s searching for, and a Yuuri who refuses to follow the “script” Victor seems to unwittingly run his life by. Yuuri takes no shit from anyone and constantly keeps Victor on his toes with how surprising he can be. I love both of these two here and watching them fit into each other’s lives is a real treat!

14.) All Eyes on Me by Kizuna_Auri (Status: Incomplete) – Explicit

Genres: Sex Worker AU (Camming), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff, Smut

Yuuri, under the username of Eros, is a size queen omega who most certainly does not have an obsession with fellow camboy and legendary silver-haired alpha Aria. Just like Phichit is not the most meddlesome roommate known to man.

In which Yuuri and Victor are both camboys who happen to be fans of each other, and get set up to share their heat/rut for their audiences by their bffs and moderators, Phichit and Chris respectively. It’s surprisingly fluffy with alpha!Victor being a total sweetheart and omega!Yuuri being a shy bean who’s trying his best to keep up his Eros persona.This fic also highlights Yuuri’s insecurities and anxiety in a very realistic way and the difficulties than can come with being a camboy. The smut is intense and there’s plenty more plot on the horizon!

15.) The Promise of the World by pilindiel (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres: Fantasy

When a self-conscious young man is cursed with an old body by a spiteful wizard, his only chance of breaking the spell lies with a self-indulgent yet insecure young wizard and his companions in his legged, walking castle.

The Howl's Moving Castle AU we all secretly wanted.

This is a straight up Howl’s Moving Castle AU!!!. Yuuri fits very naturally into the role of Sophie and Victor is a perfect Howl, but I assume we all knew that was the case already! It’s a very good read and has its own deviations from the source material to keep it feeling fresh.

16.) (Don’t) Ring the Wedding Bells by cuttlemefish (Status: Complete – 45k) – Explicit

Genres: Alternate Occupations, Social Media, Modern-day Cinderella

As (loosely) inspired by real life, this is the wedding reception AU (you didn’t ask for, but will get) in which Yuuri Katsuki catches the bride’s bouquet and (shortly after) gets smashed at a wedding reception, then dirty dances with his best friend, (sort of) seduces a (hot) platinum-haired trust-fund baby named Viktor, and ends up being hounded for his identity (by said trust-fund baby and his friends and family) on social media.

In which rich!Victor ends up getting woo’d by regular-guy!Yuuri at JJ and Isabella’s wedding reception and pulls out all the stops to find Yuuri again after he disappears. And does so in classic Victor style: as dramatically as possible. Meanwhile Yuuri’s just trying to live his life and forget the whole thing happened because of how embarrassing it was, but when you’ve basically become a meme, things get a little complicated. Still, Victor tries very hard to win Yuuri’s heart and Yuuri eventually finds that he’s very much in love. Naturally, there are some bumps along the way, but these two are made to last. It’s an overall fun AU that has its touching (and sexy) moments too! (May also be a part of a future series?)

17.) Imprisioned by Linisy (Status: Incomplete) – Mature

Genres: Supernatural (Ghosts), Slow Burn

For the past two years, Yuuri has been endlessly tormented by malevolent spirits. Just as he finds himself at the end of his rope, he meets Victor, an enigmatic man who possesses the ability to relieve him.

An AU in which both Yuuri and Victor have powers they don’t quite want, but find that the other might be what they need. Yuuri is a nervous ball of anxiety in this fic because of his ability to see ghosts, and Victor’s own ability leaves him generally isolated from people out of fear of getting too close to them. The whole concept is very unique and I absolutely adore cold(but kind)!Victor gradually warming up to Yuuri. Their interactions are great to read and get me every time!!!

18.) Bottle Me Your Smile by Ncj700 (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres: Magic AU, Apothecary AU

In a tiny village on the edge of the kingdom, Yuuri Katsuki – common as mud Apothecary owner – embarks on a goal to achieve a childhood goal. With the help of the world’s greatest magical, he will achieve it.

A super cute fantasy AU that features Yuuri who’s a talented witch when it comes to potionmaking among other things, but is captivated by the powerful sorcerer Victor. Inspired, Yuuri tries to pursue a path of battlemagic, only to spectacularly fail and return to his home to live a quiet, humble life in his little apothecary. However, as fate would have it, Victor and Yuuri’s paths cross unexpectedly, and I can’t wait to see what adventures will unfold! Lovely world building and characterization.

19.) His Was Gold by AL_KILLER (Status: Incomplete) – Mature

Genres: Historical AU, Harem AU, Slow Burn, Angst

There were dozens of men and women in Tsar Victor Nikiforov’s harem, all of them attractive, ravishing, and beautiful. They wore provocative clothing, sweet smelling perfumes, and sparkling jewelry designed to catch the eye. All in hopes of being chosen by the Tsar for just one night.

Yuuri was the only one in the harem who didn’t want to be chosen. Yet, Yuuri was the only one the Tsar wanted.

I don’t usually read dark fics because I’m fairly sensitive and fragile, BUT! This one is amazingly well-written and evokes such powerful imagery that grips you and doesn’t let go. There’s an air of mystery here that is partly due to Yuuri’s limited perspective and also due to his unreliable-as-always narration, which the author uses masterfully. Even if you’re not a fan of dark fics, I suggest giving this one a go—it’s worth it. (Warnings for graphic descriptions of violence.)

20.) Story About You by heartsinhay (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres: FanFic, Slow Burn, Humor

After his disastrous Japanese Nationals, Yuuri turns to the only thing that can comfort him: his old fanfic. Halfway across the world, Victor does the same thing.

Just picked up this fic the other day! Yes the “self-insert fic” is super cringey, but of course that’s the point! It’s hilarious to see poor Yuuri despair at his old writing (because, well, relatable) and to be caught off guard by a sudden fan of his works. I wonder who else would be suddenly and intensely interested in the little Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov ship in the figure skating “fandom,” haha! ;)

21.) 23. M. Looking for a challenge. by alykapedia (Status: Incomplete) – Teen*

Genre: Academic AU, Tinder AU, Humor,

“A cute boy with an ass like that says he’s up for a challenge and you send him a math problem?" (Giacometti, 2017).

A (not-so) comprehensive study on the (terrible) mating habits of (beautiful) grad student, Yuuri Katsuki, and (future) Nobel Laureate Viktor Nikiforov D. Sc.

(Or: That one where two physicists fall in love and set off a nuclear reaction. Except not really.)

Another new one that was recommended to me by friends and honestly, I LOVE IT. It’s the academic au you’ve always wanted and never knew you needed! Both Yuuri and Victor are adorable (yet crazy smart) in this and its just so clever in its writing. (*The rating might go up.)

Shameless self promotion:

1.) Celestial Gravitation (Status: Incomplete) – Explicit

Genres: Space AU, Fantasy AU, Action-Adventure, Political, Slow Burn

The Rossiyan Empire controls most of the galaxy. Most, but not all--not yet. The solution to the Emperor's ambitions lies in a rumored ancient weapon hidden on a lost world. The small, peaceful planet of Yamato holds the key to unlocking and utilizing said weapon. To secure their interests, the Emperor and his talented son--Prince Victor--venture to the planet to obtain the key: Prince Yuuri of Yamato. Knowing that any resistance could mean endangering his homeworld, Prince Yuuri and his family agree to the Emperor's terms. But he has foreseen this day coming and he will not go along with their plans as quietly as the Empire may expect him to.

What he hasn't foreseen, however, is the unlikely bond he develops with Prince Victor--a man he should be destined to hate, but finds he cannot.

If only galactic politics and ancient secrets didn't get in the way of love.

(A slow-burn, space-adventure AU in which there is advanced technology as well as magic.)

2.) Tessellation (Status: Incomplete) – Teen

Genres: Retelling, Victor PoV

It started at the banquet--the day Victor's life dramatically changed course. And from there, it was all uphill.

A Victor-POV project that follows the show episodically, for the most part. In other words: the show from Victor's point of view.

#yoi #yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #victuuri #viktuuri #fanfic #nyerus.txt #fic recs

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iammarylastar · 7 years

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The Exception

Here is a litlle something I wrote after watching The Exception. Thanks to my bêta girl @tigpooh67 you’re awesome😘 And thanks to all of the amazing fanfic writers here, who inspired me with their words. @frecklefaceb @kenzieam @beautifulramblingbrains @singingpeople @oddsnendsfanfics @pathybo and my ultimate muse @ashtotes 😍 Enjoy! !!

‘Knock knock’

She startled at the sound, closing the field of her bittersweet memories. Her hands still busy doing the dishes as she gets lost in her thoughts for what seemed a lifetime.

Stefan.

It has been weeks since she had sent the book to the headquarters where he was supposed to do whatever paperwork his country needed him to, where a contact in Berlin secretly messaged her.

She was wondering if she would ever get a chance to see him again, ignoring unknown answers of whether he received the book or if he was even still alive. No letter, no telegram. Nothing. The spy agent who informed her vanished. Just like she had. Gone. No news yet.

When she finally arrived in London she endured a dreadful debriefing from the secret agency that sent her to the Kaiser’s house.

Their concern or more accusations she may have turned her coat and collaborated with the enemy. After all, “Women are weak sometimes” they said.

She spit out all the details she could, talking everything about Captain Stefan Brandt, making sure to pass him off as a double agent, a traitor to his country who had saved her life. Saving her in so many ways.

Her hierarchy had trusted her and due to her service’s records, foreign languages skills and condition, hired her as a voice coach. Her duty was to teach the spies-to-be everything they had to know about German accents, habits and subtleties of dialect, depending on where they would be based or supposed to be from.

She also taught women the smartest way to use their ass and boobs to lure men. First and foremost, Officers or high-ranking Generals.

Men are weak she said, and stupid especially when it’s about bang one out. Best opportunity for pillow talks.

She knew too well about what she was talking, not bothering to warn the ladies from falling in love. Because that’s not something you could neither choose nor control. If only she wouldn’t have falling for Stefan so deep and hard, she wouldn’t have felt this alone and desperate.

Her job provided her enough money to rent this place, relatively safe since they assured her she wouldn’t go back on the field.

Being busy kept her from turning mad, she had so much work with the soldiers it really helped to fill her mind with something else other than him.

She already was preserving the memory of him in her mind and under her skin, literally.

Of course there were a number of suitors around her, all willing to put either her in their bed or a ring on her finger. After all, women like her were hard to find; Smart, Courageous, Beautiful, Single and Employed.

But there was no way she could respond to any of those pretenders.

She was his and only his. No one compared to her German Captain, ever.

She opened the door, still lost in her thoughts, her hand left the doorknob to finish wiping them on her white apron.

“Yes?” As it slipped through her lips before she lifted her gaze up to meeting her visitor’s piercing blue eyed stare which she knew and missed so much.

She gasped in shock, her hands gripping her chest, her eyes widening and trying to focus on the man in front of her through fresh tears.

He was alive. And he was here.

She was as beautiful as he remembered. Even sweeter as it was the real her, not the ghost image which had haunted his dreams and thoughts for the latest 5 months.

If only she knew. If only she knew the depths of his feelings, the risks he had taken to join her. His slightest heartbeat, breath and movement had been only for her. For this moment.

Stuck outside the threshold, his legs paralyzed and his arms heavier than stone, he felt like that awful day when he woke up from his belly’s surgery.

Miraculously alive but skinned alive. The tiny pieces of the shrapnel burst within his bowels and liver, burning hell each time he tried to breathe.

The sight of the love of his life had his body screaming out all the pain hidden inside for months, worrying to death and endlessly waiting for some good news of her safety. The pain in his heart, whilst forced to accuse her of being Jewish, murders and intelligence, charging her of crimes for high treason to save his own 'so-called Nazi’ neck. He held back some tears that furiously knocked behind his eyelids.

They shared kind of the same stare they already had, that day they were forced to part, to save their lives. A sacrifice they both had paid the price, that unbearable lack of each other, but which none of them regret.

Now they were together again. Almost. A single step and he would be able to touch her. The tips of his fingers were tingling at the thought but his damn feet stayed glued to the ground.

Tears were already rolling down her cheeks, her beautiful face lightened by a warm smile, the corners of her lips he couldn’t wait to kiss trembling with emotion.

She fought the urge to burst into tears, her body screaming its need for his, to hug her tight and never part again. She couldn’t make a move though, her lips agape, the air stuck in the top of her lungs. No words allowed leaving her tongue.

Chuckling, he scratched the back of his neck, like he was searching for the right words. Swallowing hard, he just let it go.

“Ma'am” he finally broke the silence.

“My name is Stefan Brandt and I was wondering what yours was.”

He finished his sentence in a large grin, waiting for her to tease him back.

She chuckled, eased by having her cheeky bastard back.

If he wanted to play that game, she was totally in. They always had been good at teasing each other.

“Mieke Brandt” she simply uttered in a smile, wiping her wet cheeks with the back of her hand.

He couldn’t help but step forward, his hands cupping so gently the sides of her soft face, his lips burning painfully to be so close to hers and so far in the same time.

Their breaths mixed the same air and they both fought the urge to melt into each other, savouring the slightest second of their reunion.

“Your husband must be so proud of his exceptional beauty of a wife.” He whispered, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, helping her face to get rid of all the tears that continued to flow down.

His fierce look was roaming all over her face, from her hazel eyes to her wet lips. It took all he had not to eat her mouth up, tear off her clothes and lick every piece of skin he could to taste her again.

His eyes were telling all what his mouth couldn’t, the lump in his throat barely allowed him to breathe, his emotions invading every cells of his.

I miss you. I love you. I want you. Forever.

She had read him loud and clear, and though she’d rather have heard his low voice saying those words, caressing her ears and echoing through her heart to her core, having them screamed by his heart and soul had her heart grown heavy.

She wouldn’t complain having her beau speechless: both his lips and tongue could be used on better purpose.

“I know” she smiled before pulling him in a so awaited kiss, moulding her mouth with his, allowing his tongue to enter.

His tongue softly caressed hers, in the sweetest kiss they ever shared.

But the sound of her moans vibrating in his throat went setting fires all over his body and he knew there was nothing else to do but let his desire take control.

He walked her backwards, one hand leaving her skin just to throw the door shut before being glued to her again.

Stumbling back, she suddenly hit the wall behind her, eliciting a gasp from her lungs.

Their teeth bumped under the shock and Stefan pulled back to check on her.

“You OK?” Are the only words allowed to leave his lips before she assaulted them again in a hungry kiss, biting his lower lips, then nibbling along his light stubble jaw until her lips were met with his ear, she licked while teasingly whispering

“Take off my clothes”

He chuckled, his 5 o'clock shadow scratching the delicate skin of her throat where he was nuzzling his face.

She practically could feel his grin grow whilst rolling his eyes.

He reluctantly pulled back, leaving the warmth of her neck to meet the fire in her eyes.

Her sultry tone just added more fuel to his fire and his cock got harder at the reminding of how wet, warm and sweet it was to fill her core.

She was acting like a tigress, her nibble fingers attacking the buttons of his shirt while her tongue continued its wild dance with his.

She was so eager to feel his skin on hers, her fingers couldn’t work quick enough. Tear then rip the shirt off crossed her mind but she finally managed to slide her hand under the fabric and stroke his pec. Racking her nails on the hard muscle had revived the memories of their lovemaking and had her turned on even more.

His large hands had already rid her of her apron and were now working on unbuttoning her dress in her back when he felt her opening her thighs for him as she managed to lift her right knee and clung onto his upper leg.

No way could he longer resist that invitation. After 5 months of starvation, his cock longed to be buried inside her, her tender flesh pressing around it as she rocked her hips on him, his palms massaging her breasts.

His hands left the last button, her plump cheeks being preferred. He squeezed them tightly, eliciting a sexy groan from both of them and had no choice but crush her body with his, pinning her against the wall.

He found an unfamiliar bump when his shaft grinded against her usually flat belly.

Time seemed to stop. His brain was overwhelmed with what he was feeling around his lower belly while his whole body froze.

His hands slide from the back of her thighs to her belly, as he pulled back, like in slow motion.

He scrutinized the shape of his hands cupping the mount of her rounded stomach. Standing still, out of breath, he was marvelling at this unexpected strange shape, wondering how he could have missed it.

Unable to take his eyes off of his cupped hands, he threw just a quick glance to her face, where he could read pure relief and happiness through the flow of renewed tears.

He knelt down so his face leveled Mieke’s swollen stomach, his hands still glued on the thin fabric of her blouse covering her bump, as he finally dared to lightly caress it with his thumbs.

He embraced a career in the German Army to follow the footsteps of his father and grandfather, to the fate of the men if his family, all dead in action on the field, covered with military medals and distinctions but both leaving widows and young orphans behind them. He could settle for this life which he didn’t much care of, filled with whores or one night stands who never loved or even cared about him. This life full of pain and solitude since her mother passed on.

So dying for his country seems to be the better option.

He now was realizing he never have been so wrong.

He had chosen the Captain ranking for the legacy, the medals for the prestige, the uniform to get the girls, the duty as his destiny, waiting for the day he would die. That was his so-called life.

Mieke had changed that. She had changed him.

He ran out of Germany, leaving all this stuff behind him, to join Mieke.

He was a deserter of his country, a traitor of Motherland, a disgrace and a shame of the Army but he really didn’t care. Who would want to be a German solider in these times of war? A country which allowed and encouraged the murder of its own people, men, women and children simply because they were Jewish?

FUCK!

He felt like he wasn’t a soldier or a countryman anymore. All he wanted now was to belong to her. This is where he wanted to call home. Mieke. And the little life she was carrying. A new beginning. His family.

Mieke looked down at him, her fingers racking through his short hair, then slid from the back of his neck to brush his stumble and uttered with a shaking voice, holding back from vanishing in a pool of tears.

“I was so scared you never will come back to me and never get to know your child…” her last words turned in a loud heartbreaking sob.

Lowering his gaze he put his forehead against her bump while his hands tightly squeezed the sides of her waist.

Towering over him, she could see his shoulders lightly shaking, his cries muffled into her bump, and she felt his hands grasping her flesh deeper , his fingers dug into her sides, never letting her go.

Lifting up pleading eyes on her, he finally managed to reiterate what he asked months ago.

“Marry me Mieke. Now. Today.”

She silently nodded her head, her smile illuminating her face drowned in tears.

Stefan stood up, and in a swift movement captured her face and spot kissed on every piece of skin he could, drying her happy tears with his lips. He felt Mieke melting in sobs and a knot tightened in his guts.

He pecked her closed eyelids before pressing his lips on hers and finally pulled away.

Narrowing his eyes whilst trying to read the expression on her face, he gain his courage and asked:

“Is that a yes?”

She chuckled, her wet hazel eyes looking deep into his blue stare, amazed by the handsomeness of his face and the tenderness of his gestures. He brushed her perfect features and downed her palms to her waist, his eyes never leaving hers.

She mouthed yes and he felt blessed like no man before him, staring at the woman in his arms, his absolute everything. The need to be united as one overwhelmed him and he crashed his lips on hers again.

She gasped when feeling lifted up, two hands firmly grabbing the back of her thighs. His mouth crashed on her opened lips and his tongue filled her mouth. Her legs automatically found their way around his waist, her wet folds screaming his cock’s name.

She was clinging on him like there’s no tomorrow, pulling him in a deeper and passionate kiss, her hands eagerly touching and squeezing every part of him she could.

Tightening his grip on her ass, he helped her to increase the friction of their intimate parts, still separated by their clothes.

He walked them through the corridor, blindly heading to her bedroom or whatever place he could lay her down and finally make love to her.

Lost in their moans and strokes, the world and time disappeared.

Before he got lost in her, a last thought flashed in his mind.

His family.

One love. One duty. One decision.

The Exception

#the exception #one shot

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