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dollywheeler · 10 months

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September 20th, 1996

Dear diary,

The girls and I went to the diner after cheer practice, so I got home later than usual. At first I thought mom and dad had gone out, as dad's car was gone and the house was dark despite it only being 7, but I found mom sitting in the living room on her own reading a magazine. Apparently, dad had some work event and wouldn't be home until late. The house felt lonely without dad sitting in his chair in front of the TV, and I realized mom probably felt that more than anyone now that I was out a lot more, myself.

It made me feel worse for leaving her to have dinner on her own, and realized I'd forgotten to call and let her know I wouldn't make it.

It reminded me of when I was younger, and I'd go back downstairs after being unable to fall asleep, to find mom in the sitting room, reading or sewing but mostly just keeping her eye on the door. It took me a while to realize she was waiting on Mike and/or Nancy, making sure they'd get home, without knowing when they'd be back. One night, mom had allowed me to sit with her a little longer instead of getting me back upstairs immediately, and when we'd finally heard the garage door open, Mike had rounded the corner and ran right up the stairs without saying anything.

To this day I don't know if he ever even knew she was there, or if he just didn't care that she was. I just know that mom had opened her mouth to greet him or ask how he was, but changed her mind, clearly knowing better. He'd already been halfway up the stairs, anyway.

She still looks surprised any time I let her know where I'm going or what I'm doing, the relief on her face every time we have dinner together and I tell them about my day. I don't want to stop doing that. I don't want to do that to her. Not after seeing how much it hurt her the first two times.

I don't want to do that to her ever. I guess, I came pretty close today, anyway.

On top of that, my first instinct was to go upstairs, to read or listen to music in my room, but I realised that would leave her sitting here alone, just as Nancy or Mike would have done.

So, instead, I asked if she wanted to go the movies.

She seemed surprised I'd asked, which was to be inspected and made me feel even more guilty, but it was clear she was excited by the idea.

It was strange getting into the car with her now I've been doing most driving myself, but it was a nice feeling too - like I'd only just realized I'd been missing it - and it made me feel a lot better.

Mom asked if there was a particular movie I wanted to see, and it made me pause because I realised there really weren't that many great movies playing. I just suggested watching My Best Friend's wedding as I considered it was probably most up her alley, but she remembered I'd already seen it. I insisted I didn't particularly care about anything else that was playing and didn't mind seeing it again.

At first she agreed if I was sure, but once we got to the theater she checked out the other movies anyway. She pointed out Mimic as something I'd probably like, and I laughed and pointed out it was R-rated, but she just shrugged and joked that "she may look young but still counts as adult supervision."

I told her I didn't want to watch anything she wouldn't enjoy. She gave me this look with a twinkle in her eyes and I remember that I only know the parts of her she'd wanted me to see until now. It made me feel kind of dumb - naive, I guess. Strange how that works - how we just assume that parents are parents, and everything they enjoyed as children was prelude to raising kids. That we forget they're people too.

It made me ask what she enjoyed doing at my age, and I could tell she felt weird answering that question, almost as if she wasn't quite sure how, or she'd forgotten. She mentioned something non-commital about ballet and focusing on school, but on the way home, she said she'd enjoyed the movie even though preferred fantasy over sci-fi. And then she'd told this story about how, when she was pregnant with Mike, she'd left Nancy with a babysitter one night and had gone to see Rosemary's Baby on her own. I've really been underestimating her, apparently. I always knew mom must have been somewhat like me and Nancy as a teenager, I just never realised she was - and this is going to sound cliché - cool. Cool enough to say 'fuck it' and go to the movies on her own, to one of the scariest horror movies ever, about a baby, while pregnant.

And then she said, and I can't quite believe I'm the first one hearing about this, that it was actually the first night she'd met Joyce Byers. Apparently, she was working the ticket counter at the time - just as pregnant as mom was - and had made a comment about her choice of movies. Something about her nerves never being able to handle horror and that she'd probably go into labor early if she tried.

A few weeks later, when mom was in the hospital with Mike, she bumped into Joyce again when they came to pick Will up from the NICU. Mom smiled when she recalled this, but her thoughts seemed far away as she trailed off. She'd been in a good mood ever since we bumped into them, and I know she'd been hoping for something like that to happen ever since they moved back to town.

I should probably have explained that first before going off on this tangent.

So, we went to see Mimic. We got to our seat as the previews were ending, and pretty early on as the movie was starting, my attention was pulled to two people a few rows in front of us and a little to my left. They were talking quietly among themselves, as most people were, and I immediately recognised them as Will and Mike.

It kind of shocked me - I really hadn't expected seeing them and I tensed realizing mom was with me. I didn't know how she'd respond to seeing them, and I really didn't want to ruin this night for her. It had been so nice up until now, and I doubted reminding her of the son that had abandoned her would be make this night better. Okay, maybe abandoned is a strong word, but I still didn't think it was far off from how mom was feeling.

But mom seemed engrossed by the movie and unbothered by the people talking around her, so I hope she wouldn't recognise them in the dark and tried to focus on the movie myself.

It was great - not that scary, honestly, and I'm not a fan of bugs so it was more disgusting than anything. I might just have been too distracted to enjoy it though, as I kept catching snippets of Mike and Will's commentary.

At the start of the movie they were pretty quiet, but then when the characters really started investigating the tunnels and the action started kicking up, Mike mumbled “Stupid kids sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”

“Shut UP, Mike.” Will groaned, but he was clearly biting back a laugh.

“At least we didn’t WANT to get involved. And we managed to stay alive.”

Will slapped his arm instead of telling him to shut up again, but he was laughing quietly.

Wondrously, people weren’t complaining about them whispering. Though, if I hadn’t been so focused on them I probably wouldn’t have minded either - they were being quiet enough and surely weren’t the only ones making a comment here or there.

It was a weird comment though, and I didn't understand what Mike could have been referring to. There were more comments like that, though I can't quite recall them all.

At one point, Mike repeated a quote from the movie “The world’s a much bigger lab.” and then added, "Don’t let El watch this movie. She’ll have an existential crisis.”

Again, weird comment, but Will seemed to follow exactly what he meant as he hissed out a “Mike.” before pressing a hand over his mouth to stelp his laughter.

They continued back and forth like this, Will chiming in with his own comments every once in a while, though more content to just sit and watch than Mike was apparently. Until, eventually Mike said something about "it being nice for the scientists to be the victim of their own creations for once."

"What the hell is wrong with you?” Will joked in response this time, sounding strangely fond, before dropping his voice into a more serious tone. “Are you okay? We can leave-“

“I’m fine. Joking helps.” Mike's voice was quieter as he responded seriously for once, and it was weird. I wouldn't have expected him to sober up just like that, to drop the act and be earnest after all that sarcasm. “Though I don’t like we’re watching this back in Hawkins.”

It made me scoff, strangely defensive. As much as I love Hawkins, I hold no illusion over it being a paradise, but no one asked them to move back. If they hate being here so much they shouldn't have come. I knew they hadn't wanted to come back - knew it was all just a ruse, them wanting to meet up and suddenly caring about the people they left behind is all just bullshit, a game to pass the time cause they have nothing better to do. Something they might as well indulge in now they're burned out and back where they started.

Surely they could have found a different small town in need of teaching staff.

But Will just smiled sadly at Mike's comment, before glancing around at the other patrons, enraptured by the movie or muttering and grimacing between themselves at the juicy bits. Then Will shifted in his seat, only barely, pulling his hand off the armrest causing Mike to turn his eyes back to him, and asked. “Better?”

“Better.” Mike agreed with a smile, though what had changed to make it so, I couldn’t grasp. “Oh we’re back to regular horror movie bullshit. That’s good. Watch him struggle with that lighter like a total cliché. Told you."

Weirdest part was when the movie had ended. As soon as the lights came on, I was ushering mom out of the theater because I didn't want her to see them, and I managed to get her successfully back into the foyer. She had to go to the bathroom though, but I figured that worked in my favor because I'd thought Mike and Will would be gone before she came out again.

I'd been aware of them walking behind us, and as I waited by the door, I heard Mike complain that the movie "wasn't even that scary, but just hit close to home."

I remember it clearly cause it struck me as odd - "too close to home"? I think mom would kill herself if she’d ever let a cockroach in the house. And with modern medicine plagues are definitely of the past. But then I realized he might have been talking about Barb. I don’t know exactly what happened and Nancy and mom don't like talking about it, but dad says it was a government cover-up. Something about a leak from the old lab. Though I doubt it was anything like the movie - it wasn't even a biological agent but chemical contaminant.

But what do I know.

At least they were gone without mom seeing them.

Or so I thought.

Of course, we eventually bumped into Mike and Will anyway. Mom caught sight of them the second we stepped back out into the hallway. They were standing near the bins, lost in conversation, clearly loitering as if hesitant to leave. I admit I used to do that a lot too, but only because I wanted to talk to my friends longer before we'd have to get in separate cars and drive to separate houses. Mike and Will don't have this problem, so I can only assume they did it just to thwart me.

Mom immediately dragged me over to go say hi.

I could tell she was nervous despite her eagerness, and despite my annoyance at Mike and hesitancy at the confrontation to come, I had to admire her resilience. They looked up when mom greeted them, and I caught their expression as they noticed me first, before they fell slightly into something more unsure as their eyes fell on mom.

"Oh, hi, Holly. Hi Mrs. Wheeler." Will said, taking the lead in the conversation as he smiled polite as ever at mom, but even he seemed cautious.

"Hi, mom," Mike said quietly, and I noticed he didn't hug her hello. He barely even looked at her, keeping his eyes downcast.

Will asked what movie we'd just seen, and both him and Mike seemed surprised when mom said they'd watched Mimic. I stayed quiet as they talked about the movie for a bit, until Mike seemed to notice I hadn't said anything yet.

Mike turned to me and mentioned having dinner again, saying I had yet to accept an invitation any time soon, and then he added - surprising both me and mom, and possibly even himself - "you too mom."

I could tell he was nervous after, but I didn't know if it was because he already regretted what he'd said or if he wasn't sure what our response he would be.

"What about dad?" I tried to ask, but mom just put her arm around my shoulder and cut me off with a "we'd love to accept."

I don't know why they'd want to leave out dad but I'm getting sick of missing half the conversation.

But it didn't end up ruining mom's night after all, so I'm trying to just let it go and be happy for her. Mike and Will said they had plans next weekend, and I would have considered it an excuse to procrastinate putting down an actual date if next weekend wasn't homecoming so it makes sense for them to be busy. And then they actually suggested the Friday after that, so they ended up giving a date after all. Let's see if they'll find an excuse to cancel before then.

I think it would crush her if they did.

For now she's more excited than I've seen her in a long time, and it's hard to be mad at Mike when he put that smile on her face.

It's just insanely unfair that he has that influence over her, that something so simple could make her that happy, when he can't even be bothered to stay in touch. I hope for her sake that the dinner will be the first of many, because if it's a one-off it would just break her heart all over again.

Love, Holly

#holly wheeler #mike wheeler #the third wheeler #fanfic #stranger things #byler #will byers #karen wheeler

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marianaxrojasx · 1 year

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[ sofia carson, female, she/her ] - was that MARIANA ROJAS i saw by the lighthouse today? i heard that the TWENTY EIGHT year old who has been in nightrest for HER ENTIRE LIFE and works as a SINGER & DANCER has a reputation of being PASSIONATE, but also STUBBORN. they reside in ASHMORE & people in town usually associate them with A NOTEBOOK FULL OF SONGS SHE'S WRITTEN, OVERSIZED SWEATERS DURING THE WINTER & THE SMELL OF A FRESH CUP OF COFFEE IN THE MORNINGS . let’s hope the killer doesn’t go after them next.

violence tw, death tw

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 …

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: mariana rojas 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄(𝐒): mari, 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄(𝐒): mari 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄: november 23rd, 1998 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 28 years old 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑: female 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒: she/her 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: heteromantic 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 ��𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: heterosexual 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍: none

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘…

born towards the end of november to two eighteen year olds, mariana was put up for adoption not long after. with her birth parents being too young, they did what was best for their daughter. they put her up for adoption to give her a better life. being adopted by the rojas family, her life with them growing up was better. with her adopted parents in the entertainment business, her mom a professional dancer and her dad an actor, her life wasn't normal at all. with being the daughter of Adrien and Natalia Rojas, from a young age, she was in the spot light

at the age of twelve, her parents enrolled her into dance and singing lessons. singing though came a lot easier, with dance coming in second. when she wasn't busy with her dance and singing lessons, she was busy with school. busy keeping her grades up and making sure she didn't fall behind. during her summers, when she was out of school, her time was filled with the lessons her parents signed her up for. though that all came to an end when she was fifteen years old. by then, she was good at not only singing, but dancing as well.

the following year, not long after her sixteenth birthday, mariana and her parents had gotten into a car accident. her mother was killed from it. while mariana and her father both survived. though their stay in the hospital lasted for a few weeks. with how bad the accident was, she was lucky enough to get away with a badly sprained ankle, and a lot of cuts and bruises on her. the news of her moms death though, after finding out a few hours later hurt her the most. for the days following, mariana shut herself off of everyone. from her friends and family, she didn't want to talk or see them as she tried to come to terms that her mom was gone.

the months that followed, mariana focused on getting better, slowly but surely. finally getting back to normal after some time, mariana made sure she got back to dancing and singing. two of her passions. after graduating high school, she headed off to New Haven, Connecticut to attend Yale University. there, she double majored in theater and performance studies and music. during her first year at yale, she posted a video on youtube of a song she wrote. Una Flor. within a matter of hours, the song gained a decent amount of views. as well as the attention of a few record producers. despite all of the offers, she turned them down so she could focus on studies.

during her time at yale, she was in one relationship that lasted for four years. towards the end of that, she called it off with in once things started going bad. the violence alone her now ex was showing scared her. and the fact that he had harmed her once was more than enough to get away. after graduating, she went on to joining the American Ballet Theater. though before officially joining it, she went home to spend some time before leaving for new york. it wasn't until her second year with them that she got the lead in the production of swan lake. her time though as the lead didn't last for long. on the sixth day after opening, mariana was involved in an accident that left her with a sprained wrist and a broken badly sprained ankle ( once again ). returning home after that, she eventually had surgery on said ankle.

for the months following after, she attended physical therapy. for six months, she did physical therapy until she was given the green light. flash forward to a few months ago, she had to find out that her cousin was now engaged to her ex. confronting him at a family event, the confrontation didn't go well. with his violent side coming out. and mariana was on the receiving end that. even though she tried her best to keep it civil. after the altercation, she left nightrest. leaving the town, she headed to columbia to stay with her grandparents. now almost two months later, she returned home.

OTHER FACTS…

- she has four adopted siblings. one sister and three brothers. her sister is two years younger than her, while her three brothers are older than her. the eldest being thirty six years old.

- she loves coffee. she can't go a day without having at least one or two cups of coffee during the day. anyone who knows her knows this.

- her taste in food varies. with pizzas, she loves putting hot sauce on them. anything to make it more spicy. spicy foods in gneral are a favorite ofhers.

- despite hearing after she left town that her cousin called the engagement off, she didn't come back right away. to her, she needed time away to clear her mind. while she was away though, she did keep in contact with her family and a few friends, talking to them every so often to let them know she was okay.

WANTED CONNECTIONS…

first love: this was her first serious relationship she had. they were each others first everything. they dated for a while. when she was in the car accident, he was the one to help her through it even though she didn't want anyone around. four years in total they were together. at some point, she thought they would stay together even after high school and get married, but the two broke up before heading off to college. mariana is still very much in love with him. her song una flor is about him though that's something she never admitted.

her person: male or female, they would have known each other for a while. probably since they were kids. they're practically joined at the hip as some people would say. through everything, they've been there for each other. think meredith/cristina or meredith/alex from greys anatomy. taken by dilara kaplan russell

childhood best friends: growing up in nightrest, mariana most likely had a good about of childhood best friends. people she was close with and who are still friends with her not because of her fame, but because of her and their friendship that goes way back. (1/3 spots taken )

family friends: friends she had met through her parents. they could have known each other since they were kids or met a few years ago.

#nightrest:intro #might add on to this later but heres her intro

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death-fears-by-deaf-ears · 3 years

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swan lake || t.h.

pairing: tom holland x reader

summary: you can't stand tom holland, the guy in your ballet ensemble. But when you two get the roles of Odette and the prince, you two will have to put your differences aside and learn to work with each other.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: language

chapter one

Not again.

This was starting to become a recurring theme - it was Monday and your bus had just left without you. You mumbled profanities under your breath, your duffle bag slung across your shoulder. Frustrated you slumped against a street lantern, when you felt the first drops of rain on your skin. You let out a groan of anger and pulled your hood up over your head, cursing yourself for staying up too late last night. But because you anticipated this, you had already put on your leotard and tights on at home, so when you got to class you’d only have to strip your clothes and start your warm up.

Last week you had gotten whacked on the head with a newspaper for being that late, but with a little bit of luck you wouldn’t have to endure that today.

When you arrived in the ballet studio almost an hour later you were soaked and freezing. You ran through the halls of the studio, already in the process of taking off your jacket and shirt, revealing your dancing clothes underneath. Three minutes left to go.

Your usual locker was already occupied, making you rush to the next best one, ripping the door open, throwing all your clothes in there and only taking your training ballerinas out and slamming the door shut. You had done your hair in the bus already, so it was in a low tight knot. You put your shoes on, running toward the door. One minute left.

“How kind of you to join us today on time,” Sophie, your dance teacher said, following you with her eyes as you took your position. Everyone in the room was staring at you and you could feel their looks drilling in your back. Tom next to you was bowing his head down, obviously trying to hide his laughter. You shot him a poisonous look, rage as well as embarrassment burned inside you. Tom had a special power of making your anger levels go from 0 to 100.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” you said, your face running hot.

“Let’s start with the warm up, shall we?”

“Why is everyone whispering and staring at me,” you whispered through gritted teeth to your friend Hannah, who was helping you stretch. “Ouch!”

“Loosen up,” Hannah whispered, pulling you even closer to her. You were sitting in front of each other on the floor, pushing the others’ legs out. “Haven’t you seen the role sheet today?”

“Fuck,” you whispered, partially because of the stretch, but also because you had forgotten that today the roles for the upcoming show were published. You must’ve not seen the sheet in the locker rooms. “What role did I get?”

Hannah shook her head as you pulled her towards you, adjusting her pose. “You got the role of Odette.”

You immediately let go of Hannah, slapping your hand on your mouth, making her fall forward. You grabbed her shoulders. “I got the main role?” You whisper-screamed, trying your hardest not to get caught by Sophie. “Well, who is playing the prince?”

Hannah cringed and turned her gaze to the side, where a few of your colleagues were standing. Instead of stretching they were very obviously flirting with… Tom. He must’ve noticed you staring at him, as he turned his head and met your gaze. Both of you rolled your eyes as you turned away from each other. “You can’t be serious,” you said.

“I’m sorry,” Hannah huffed, sweat pearling on her dark forehead. “But hey, congrats on the role?”

You finished stretching and continued with your training, going through forms and positions, polishing your moves and getting scolded for flailing your arms too much. As you were approaching your first break, Sophie stepped towards you.

“We will begin with your training for Swan Lake today at 3, make sure to bring your pointe shoes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, your heart fluttering at the idea of dancing to your favourite show. The fluttering quickly vanished when you noticed Sophie walking up towards Tom, telling him the same. So you’d already dance with him today.

You tried to shake the bad feeling and it mostly worked, since focusing on your dream always made things easier. Dancing and performing was a way for you to let go, to get completely lost in the story and think about nothing else. There wasn’t much in the world that could ruin that for you.

Oh how wrong you had been.

“I have never seen people with less chemistry than you two,” Sophie sighed. You have never heard her be this exasperated and desperate. “Do you two even dance? Are you really professional dancers? Where did your grace go, where did the love for dance go! Look each other in the eyes for God’s sake!”

“It’d be easier if you didn’t squeeze the hell out of me,” you spat through gritted teeth.

“It’d be easier if you weren’t this heavy,” Tom spat back, his face falling immediately after he realized what he had said.

You jumped out of his grip, staring in disbelief. “Well-” you stammered, not knowing what to retort. “How about you get a little stronger…”

Sophie whacked him with her newspaper over the head. “That is NOT something you say to a lady!” Tiny strands of hair were escaping her neat bun, making her look even more stressed than she was. “We’re finishing this part today and then you two can go home.”

“Sorry,” Tom mumbled under his breath.

“Save it,” you said, taking your start position. Kneeling down on the floor, Odette would wait for the prince to come and lift her up to start the dance with her. In the original the two would fall in love the minute they laid eyes on each other. You tried to do the choreography justice, although your dance partner made it incredibly difficult for you.

“Smile!” Sophie shouted, making you two put on fake plastic grins.

“I’ll spit on your face on stage,” you said through your grin as Tom lifted you up, making you look down on him.

"Do that and I'll rip your lashes off," he said softly while lowering you on the ground again.

You tried to continue the choreography without any incidents but you couldn't help but feel every step, every nudge to be executed with a hint of passive aggression. Tom basically let you fall on the ground instead of putting you down, you avoided each other's eyes, grabbed too harshly, turned too sharply.

"Alright," Sophie said after about four hours of it. "I can't watch this any longer. You both know the choreography, and that's all I can teach you for now. If you don't know how to be nice to each other, don't bother coming to me for help until you do. We'll work on the solos and the other dances first, until you two calmed down. Dismissed."

You slumped down on the floor, rubbing your face. You untied your shoes and took them off, throwing them in your bag. This was going to be hard.

“So how was it?” Hannah asked while the two of you sat on the studio floor.

As an answer you slammed your pointe shoes on the ground several times, breaking them in a way that made them comfortable for your foot. “Take a wild guess.”

She raised her eyebrows as she was sewing the elastic band into her shoe. “What did Sophie say?”

“She refuses to work with us anymore until we get it together,” you grumbled. You slammed your fist on the top of your shoe, softening the box. Suddenly the door opened, making you and Hannah turn your heads.

Tom was marching in the room, directly towards you.

“What the hell,” you mumbled, putting your shoe down and looking up at him as he stopped in front of you. “Can I help you?”

“Are you free today after class?”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him up and down and smirked. “Are you asking me out?”

Tom crossed his arms, not saying anything. His foot was tapping impatiently on the floor which was tiled with dancing tiles.

“Yeah, I am. See you then,” you said, rolling your eyes. You waved as a good bye, signalling him to leave you alone. You turned to Hannah. “He told me I was too heavy to lift.” “Excuse me?” You shrugged, taking the thread and the needle. Your friend slapped her hands on her thighs in exasperation. “What an ass.”

You finished sewing and breaking in your shoes while talking about anything other than Tom - mostly Hannah’s new date she was going to see that very day. It was nice talking about something else, preparing yourself for class. You could feel that today was going to be a slow one - you eased into your shoes, then into your stretches, and finally into your training, testing out the waters with your new footwear and getting more comfortable as the day progressed. Your mind was empty, completely free of oppressive and depressing thoughts. Your body moved in unison with the music, following the tides of the melody, back and forth seemingly weightless and freed of gravity.

Before you knew it afternoon rolled around and class finished. You packed your stuff, and settled down in the locker room to have some lunch and lie down, coming down from your training.

As always your lunch break went by way too fast. You stood up, shaking your limbs and grabbing your things to go back to the now empty studio. Tom was nowhere to be found, so you warmed quickly up on your own. Your body had cooled down a bit, and you didn’t want to pull a muscle or something, so you did a few squats, jumping jacks and push ups to get moving again. You took your position at the railing in front of the mirror, practicing positions and movements, taking your sweet time. The clock ticked in the back of the room, showing 3.16pm. Where the hell was Tom?

At that moment the door swung open.

“Took you long enough,” you said in an arabesque pose.

“Sorry,” he said, getting in and throwing his duffle bag in the corner of the room.

You put your foot down, looking at him properly. You raised your eyebrows at his childish demeanor. You were already annoyed by him. “Bad day?”

He plonked down on the floor and began to put on his shoes. “I just want this day to be over.”

“Well then cheer up, do you expect me to dance with an energy as bad as yours?”

He looked at you incredulously. “Can’t I be in a bad mood? Do I have to be all sunshine and daisies all the time?” His voice rose now, making you back away a little, but you weren’t having none of that. You had an idea.

“I just said to lose the fucking attitude,” you said, getting louder now as well.

“What if i don’t want to?! God, you’re annoying!”

You took a deep breath putting force in your voice. “Then scream it out, because I don’t want to deal with this!” His hands turned into fists, his eyes lighting up a tiny little bit at the memory your words just triggered. But he was still angry. “Fuck you!”

“No, fuck YOU!”

And without a cue you two just started wordlessly screaming in the other’s face, a prolonged and agonizing scream, throwing it all out. Dancing didn’t require vocal chords, so you had no qualms absolutely shredding yours. You didn’t know if anyone else was in the building, but you didn’t care.

As you two ran out of breath your shoulders slumped, moving heavily up and down as you gasped for air. The room was awfully quiet except for your breathing. Your bodies seemed to mirror each other, more in sync than when you tried to be. Destruction seemed to be more constructive to the relationship between you two than anything else.

You swallowed, standing up straight. “Can we start now?”

Again you were on the floor, folded over in your starting position. You had decided to train without music, so you jumped a little as Tom’s hands touched your wrists, softer than usual. He lifted you up off the floor, placing his hands on your waist. This dance wasn’t particularly difficult or demanding, but for it to work you need a prince who guides Odette just enough without gripping her too tight, and an Odette who knows how much to rely on the prince and how much on herself. There were a few hang ups here and there, but you danced through the whole routine without saying anything once, enjoying the flow of your movements. The dance was still clinical, mostly about getting the order of the moves right. It ended with Tom lifting you up, and slowly lowering you down, and bringing your faces together, hinting at a kiss between you two. You still needed to work on that part.

“So,” he said as you jumped away as the dance ended. “With music this time?”

You nodded. “Maybe don’t grip me this tight when I do the pirouettes,” you said. You took a sip of water and put the bottle away. “I can basically do them on my own, just give me a quick spin and I’ll be able to do them faster.”

“Alright,” he said, getting into position. “But try to do your moves independently from me. It’ll make them look better.”

You folded over on the floor and waited for the music to start. When it started you closed your eyes for a second anticipating the touch on your wrists. Still it sent a jolt through you. “Softer,” you said as you did your pirouette, and the grip on your waist turned to a fleeting touch every few moments, accelerating your turns.

“Lean in properly,” Tom said as you leaned in his hands to the side to lift your leg. You did as told and managed to lift your leg even higher and with less effort. He lifted you by the waist, brows furrowed the slightest in concentration, turning in a circle. Your hands rested on his shoulders, eyes trained on him. You wondered if Odette really fell in love with the prince on sight.

The routine went smoother with each time you tried it, your movements dynamic and easy like a well oiled machine.

After a while you decided to call it a day, and after you awkwardly said your goodbyes, you went home. Suddenly you didn’t know how to act around him, everything you did felt clumsy and weird. You were used to being annoyed by him and just being generally mad at him. But now that you had to cooperate and put those things aside, what was left?

a.n.: this is the first chapter of maybe two or three, lmk what you think! this is the first time i post to tungle, be kind lmfao

#tom holland #tomholland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland one shot #tom holland smut #tom holland fandom #mcufam #tom holland x you #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader

116 notes · View notes

coepiteamare · 3 years

Text

you have (1) new voicemail

pairing: jimin x reader (though what their relationship is is unclear) genre: mystery, angst (? as always), fluff (like a wee bit), epistolary fic! warning: mentions of a ballet accident (nothing detailed, just that something happened), jimin is missing, implied!depression beta reader: hana! @cutechim this story would not have happened without you and i absolutely adore you. also thank you to noor @papillonsgf because you were the first person i talked to about this story and uhhhhh well let’s just say this story may be different than what you were expecting word count: 4.9k (this used to be drabble series lmao)

things you said series: things you said through the phone summary: “Hi, Jimin. It’s me.” (alt. you leave voicemails for jimin when taehyung asks you if you’ve heard from him recently.)

A/N: this is all dialogue, which is ironic—to say the least—because i find dialogue painfully difficult to write (it doesn’t come naturally to me, it conflicts with my writing style, and it’s just difficult to write it in a way that feels real.) nonetheless, i hope it comes across the way i wanted it to, and i hope it makes you feel something.

December 5th at 14:30

Hi, Jimin. It’s me.

I know we haven’t talked in a while, but-uhm-I saw Taehyung a couple days ago? I happened to be near where that cafe is—what’s it called—Moodspresso! Do you remember it? We wanted to go when it was new, back when you were taking that coffee-making class with Yoongi. You were such a dork: you wanted to go all around the city to judge cafes by their espressos, even though you weren’t a fan of the bitterness.

We never did get around to trying it together: I think we tried to make plans, but it was out of the way of where we were, and then life happened, and then, well...it happened.

When I saw it, it felt strange, as if a fragment of my past found its way into my present? It was kind of funny how I went in there thinking about you, only to see Taehyung. Weirdly fitting, considering how the two of you were always together, joined at the hip in college.

Anyway, he asked me if I had heard from you recently? Told me you haven’t texted him in a while, that you weren’t answering your phone, so I just wanted to check in! You know, say hi! I—uhm—tried to text you, but it wouldn’t deliver, so I figured I would just leave a voice message. I hope that’s okay. I hope you’re doing okay. If you hear this, you should probably text Taehyung; it seems like he’s worried. Said you usually respond within the day, but you haven’t been lately.

I-uhm-hope you’re doing okay. Text me back and let me know?

Bye, Jimin.

*beep*

December 12th at 15:21

Uh, hey Jimin. I didn’t hear from you, so I thought I would check back in.

I saw on facebook that Jeongguk’s dating. Isn’t that strange? I mean, it’s not strange that he’s dating; it’s just strange that it’s Jeongguk who’s dating. You know, our Jeonggukkie, the one who could barely talk to his crushes without getting tongue tied.

It seems like not too long ago he was the scrawny high schooler stressing about college applications, but he’s dating now. We used to help him with his personal statements and here he is. Dating. That’s just—wow. Time flies, I guess.

I don’t know if you’ve kept in touch with him lately, so i just wanted to let you know. You know, in case you didn’t see it.

I-

This is so stupid; I’m so sorry.

Uhm, let me know if you get this?

Bye, Jimin.

*beep*

December 14th at 19:42

I went to the bookstore today and I saw that your favourite manga released its final volume. That’s so...wild.

I remember you were reading it when I first met you in high school and to think that it’s over? That’s like Supernatural coming to an end, you know? Something that has gone on for so long that it feels weird that it’s ending. That it’s no longer a part of our lives that grows with us. It’s something that has an ending.

Speaking of endings, I don’t know if you’ve seen the ending of Supernatural, but don’t do it. It just-wow.

Anyways, I haven’t kept up with the manga, but when I saw that they released the final volume, I felt the need to buy it? I went in to buy something else and came out with all of the volumes that I hadn’t read.

I could have just read them online, I know, but I figured, if I see you again, I'd give you the final volume? Unless you already have it. Then I’d just keep it, but...you know. I just-

It made me think of you. How you transferred in late in the school year with crutches, and even though you were new, you weren’t paying attention in math class. I remember my first impression of you being “he must not care about school.” I think I later learned you had just started reading the manga a couple days ago and wanted to catch up because you couldn’t think about anything else.

It didn’t even matter that you didn’t pay attention that week or that you came in mid-school semester because you aced every class. I thought it was because you were smart without trying, which irked me because I always felt like I was trying and not accomplishing—though I suppose that still applies now—but I later learned how much effort you put in. You always tried so hard that you made things seem easy. School work. Your happiness. Your feelings to a certain extent.

I just-

I wish-

Nevermind.

I hope you’re doing okay.

*beep*

December 17th at 13:21.

Hey, Jimin.

I tried to make pasta today, and I don’t know how, but I managed to get the sauce everywhere. Everywhere but in the pan. So now, my kitchen looks like a bloody crime scene with red everywhere. I don’t even know how I’m going to clean all of this up, but I should do it before it dries, right?

I should, but I’ve just been sitting on the floor looking at it for the past few minutes.

Do you remember when we made pasta for our fakesgiving potluck at your place, and I got sauce all over your shirt?

I was wearing your white shirt—why I thought wearing a white shirt while making red sauce was a good idea, I don’t know—and I was trying to get the jar to open, but it wouldn’t work. I don’t think i’ve ever told you about this, but I remember that day was particularly awful for me. Just one unlucky event after another—I don’t quite remember what exactly they were, just that they were enough to make me feel like I wasn’t enough—and even though I was so excited for the fakesgiving potluck the night prior, even though I loved our friends, I just wanted to be alone. To not do anything and settle under the covers. Pretend everything could be forgotten if I just went to sleep.

But I saw you, and you were so excited. I didn’t have the heart to tell you I didn't want to go, so I sucked it up and helped you prep. I tried to pretend that everything was okay, but when that stupid jar wouldn’t open, I took my frustration out on it. You tried to take it from me, but I pushed you away, told you I could do it.

And I did, only I also managed to spill the jar on your white shirt as I watched the jar fall to the ground and shatter. That spill was the tipping point, not because I spilled the only jar of tomato sauce in your apartment, but because I spilled it all over your new, brand name, white shirt.

I remember berating you for spending so much money on a shirt when you bought it—for fuck’s sake, it was a plain white shirt—but I know how much you adored it. I didn’t need to look at your face to know that I had fucked up, that I should have just let you open the jar instead of being stubborn. I started to cry, in anticipation of your anger, but you just held me instead, got pasta sauce on your shirt too as you let me cry on your shoulder, whispering “There, there. It’s okay. We can just make something else!”

You never even mentioned the white shirt, told me not to worry about it when I apologised, that it was the least of your concerns. That you could get another shirt.

Looking at my kitchen reminded me of that. So, I figured I’d give you another call, but it went straight to voicemail again.

I hope you’re doing okay.

I don’t know if you want to talk to me, but I’m just worried.

Call me if you get this?

Or just send me a text.

Bye, Jimin.

*beep*

December 19th at 21:45.

Hey. There’s a full moon today. And I thought about you.

I—uhm—think about you from time to time when the moon is bright. I don’t know why—it probably sounds stupid—but I have a lot of memories of you and the moon? Like that time we went to visit Jeongguk by the sea during winter break because all of us didn’t want to go home but didn’t want to be alone. So we made a road trip of it—well, it was kind of a road trip—and drove to San Diego to see him.

When we got to the sea, it was dark and so cold out, and the wind was fucking freezing, but we rolled up our pants and started walking along the shore, dipping our toes in the water and screaming about the temperature. Our teeth were chattering and the water was so so cold, but we did it anyways.

It was a nice beach, from what I remember. One of the nicest I’ve ever seen.

I stuck my hand into your jacket pocket and told you my hand warmer was dying, but to be honest, I just wanted to hold your hand. I think you knew, or maybe we had known each other for so long that you knew what I needed without having to express it in words, so you took my hand and held it tight. And even though the water was freezing and the wind was cold, in that moment, I felt so warm.

I think you and I have always communicated well, like how I saw the way your eyes glinted in the moonlight and, somehow, knew what you wanted to do. Sneaked up behind him and pushed Jeongguk into the ocean together and laughed as he shrieked.

It was fun, that day. I-

I miss those days sometimes. The earlier days. When there was less to worry about.

When you were happier.

Anyway, the moon is really bright today. The radio called it a supermoon, or something like that. I took a picture and tried to send it to you, but your phone still won’t let me send you messages. So if you hear this, just, go outside and take a look at the night sky.

Call me back? Or send me a text.

I just want to know you’re okay.

Bye Jimin.

*beep*

December 21st at 16:28

I went to see The Nutcracker today. It felt like I haven’t seen a ballet in forever. It’s been—what—one year since I saw one? Which, I guess, in the grand scheme of things hasn’t been that long. But you were the one who would take me and I haven’t seen one since...yeah. I know it’s your favourite ballet. Or was. I’m not sure if it’s changed, haha.

The American Ballet Theatre was putting on a performance, and there were still nosebleed seats available, so I bought one. It kind of felt like fate, like it was a sign that I was meant to be there, because I remember we used to get our tickets months in advance.

I remembered some of the terms? I recognised the pa-pas de deux—god, my high school french is so fucking rusty—between the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Prince. I know that part is your favourite, but I still think “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” is mine. All those turns? I don’t remember the technicalities, but I know it requires a lot of skill to pull off while looking graceful. I still find it strange that the Sugar Plum Fairy is the prima ballerina though, considering she barely appears.

I-uhm-kind of was hoping to see you.

I know you don’t dance anymore, but—maybe it was just my stupid desire but—I was hoping that you would be dancing with the company. That perhaps you were dancing again and that was why you weren’t answering any of the calls. I kept looking at everyone, trying to see if it was you. I even paid extra attention to the curtain call and looked at every single person, kept trying to find your physique in the line. But you weren’t there.

You weren’t in the audience either. I stayed in my seat until the very end, until after the end, and scanned the crowd for anyone who was lingering and soaking in the energy, like you would do every time we went to see a ballet together. But there wasn’t. It was just me.

I stayed in my seat anyways, until the ushers told me I had to leave. Because that’s what you would have done.

I guess I was hoping you would show up. That trying to do what you would do would somehow unlock your presence. Or give me some kind of clue.

But it didn’t.

Where are you?

*beep*

December 23rd at 17:19.

I saw Taehyung again today.

He wanted to know if I'd heard from you. I don’t know why he thought you would contact me. I mean, I know I call you and leave you these messages, but you know. I haven’t talked to you since...since, yeah.

He looked awful, like he’s running himself thin. I don’t know if he’s been sleeping well, Jimin. The two of you have been friends forever, and I don't know if you’d recognise him. He seems so tired, and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

He thought it was going to be like last time. That you would show up soon. But you haven’t yet, and it’s been so long, Jimin.

He called the hospital and they told him you quit a few weeks back, which I don’t understand. I thought you needed residency to get your physiotherapy license. Tae doesn’t get it either.

He’s been going to your apartment, trying to see if anyone is in there. But there hasn’t been. He’s contacted your apartment manager several times, telling them he’s worried about you, but they won’t let him have the keys. Safety reasons. It’s understandable and frustrating all at once because he—we just want to make sure you’re okay.

He said he used to have a key to your apartment. Said you gave him your spare, but you took it back? Something about you needing your spare because you locked yourself out. He said that was the last time he saw you.

I’m not trying to jump to conclusions, but you’re okay right? I know this time of year is when—uhm, the accident happened and you-uh-left the Royal Ballet School. I know this isn’t your favourite time of year, but if you need to talk, I’m here.

He’s worried, Jimin. We all are.

Call me back? Or call Tae? We’re just worried and Tae wants to file for a missing person’s report. So just, let us know you’re okay.

Call me soon, yeah?

*beep*

December 27th at 22:48.

I saw Yoongi today.

I don’t think he likes me very much, but then again, I wouldn’t like my cousin’s ex either, so I can’t really blame him. He was still as civil as ever. Very polite. He and Seokjin are still dating, but I’m sure you knew that.

Tae had contacted Yoongi a couple days ago? Asking about you. So we all met up in person today.

I forgot how much food Seokjin makes when he’s stressed. Do you remember when he was waiting to hear back from his job, and Yoongi invited us over for dinner? We were excited because we were college students and living off of the shitty cafeteria food and, also, because it was Seokjin’s food. You thought it was because they wanted to feed us—Seokjin always wanted to feed you—but when we went over, it was obvious they just needed help getting rid of the food. There was so much food. To this day, I don’t think I've ever seen so much food in one place, even during our potlucks, and Seokjin always brought a lot of food to our potlucks.

I remember stepping in to their apartment, and the heat radiating from the kitchen was too much to bear. The walls were sweating because he had been cooking for seven hours, trying to displace his anxiety into food. We came back to the dorms with tupperwares full of food. I didn’t have to visit the cafeteria for a week.

God, I’ll never forget the first time we met Seokjin, and he made us fried rice: you couldn’t stuff your face fast enough and choked because it went down the wrong pipe, coughed out fried rice all over their brand new dining table and all over Yoongi. Seokjin and I laughed so hard. I was trying to be polite, kept looking at Yoongi's face and tried to swallow my giggles, but Seokjin's laughter was so boisterous and lively that I couldn't not laugh.

You laughed too, kept choking on your laughter in between your apologies, and Yoongi just kept glowering at you. But it was full of affection. He didn’t say anything. Just looked at you and back at the table and huffed, but it would have been obvious to anyone that he wasn’t really annoyed with you.

He went back to our hometown a couple days ago, tried to see if you were there. But you weren’t.

He went to see your parents, but they still think you’re living here too. Yoongi said he went to all the places you used to go to, like your old ballet school and that comic book store you used to go to after school. I even asked him to visit the arcade. You know, where we first met outside of school? Where we would hang out after school with Jeongguk and spend too much money on House of the Dead. Where we had our first date.

But nothing.

There are traces of you everywhere, but you? You’re not anywhere.

Where’d you go, Jimin?

*beep*

December 28th at 2:19

Fuck you.

You don’t get to do this to me. I spent so long trying to forget and trying to move on and you come back in, except—do you know what the most fucked up part of this is? It’s that you’re not even here. You’re not here, and somehow you’re everywhere. No matter what I do, all I can do is think about you because no one knows where you are. Everyone is worried because you’re missing and I-I don’t know what to do.

I thought this was over a year ago.

So why, why are you back in my life? Why are you reawakening the things I've tried so hard to bury?

Fuck you.

*beep*

December 28th at 2:23

Hey Jimin. Just ignore that previous voicemail. I’m just--I’m just frustrated. Worried. Everyone is.

Just call me back if you get this?

*beep*

December 28th at 2:25

You don’t even need to call. Just give me a sign? Let me know you’re okay. Please.

I just want to know you’re safe.

*beep*

December 30th at 1:13

Jeongguk flew in from New York today. Tae called him yesterday, and he took the first flight here.

I realised I’ve never seen Jeongguk mad.

I guess I’ve kind of seen him grow up, but I’ve never seen Jeongguk angry until today. I mean, I've seen him upset and angry, but I’ve never seen him mad. Like mad mad. I’ve never been on the receiving end of it because he’s always had his emotions in check when it comes to the negative ones. We’ve seen him sad, but you know how he is. He seems like he doesn’t care, but he cares so much when it comes to the people he loves. He’s always trying to only share the good things because he doesn’t want to bring everyone down. And even when he’s upset with us, he tries to communicate. He’s always been emotionally mature in that sense.

A lot like you. I think he gets that from you. You are his brother after all.

But when we told him none of us had heard from you? That you were missing?

I realised we’ve ever really seen Jeongguk angry.

I’ve never seen Tae look so despondent or Yoongi so guilty than when we saw Jeongguk at the airport. They didn’t want to worry him because he had just moved for his new job—I’m sure you know about that—and he’s been so stressed out that they didn’t want to add more on to his plate.

They thought you would show up by now, that you would come back. Because you always do. Or did. You used to.

I remember the first time you disappeared. It was a year after you came back, the anniversary of the...the accident. You were a little distant a couple days prior, but still you. Still vibrant and happy and beau-I mean, bright. And then on the day of, you were just gone. Didn’t show up to school. Weren’t at the arcade. Weren’t at your apartment. Just gone. Vanished into thin air.

I remember asking Jeongguk if you were sick, but he had no idea what I was talking about, and when we couldn’t get a hold of you, he burst into tears. I held him as he told me about your fight last night, how you got your xbox taken away because the two of you didn’t know how to share. He thought you had left because you didn’t love him, because he was your step brother and not your real brother.

And as we were panicking about what to do, if we should tell your parents when they came back from work, you stepped through the front door with sand in your hair and your backpack over your shoulder, smiling as if you hadn’t been missing for half the day. As if your phone wasn’t turned off all day.

I remember feeling relieved and exhausted all at once, as if someone had drained all the worry and energy out of me. I remember Jeongguk crying as he ran to hug you. I remember you crying and promising not to go anywhere without telling him again.

And you didn’t. Sometimes you would disappear when something hit too close or when you felt like everything was too much, but we could always turn to Jeongguk for a breadcrumb, for the small hint that you were okay.

But you didn’t leave him a hint this time. When we called him, let him know you were missing, asked him if he knew anything about your whereabouts, he didn’t say anything. He went so quiet, we thought the line went dead, until he actually did hang up. He sent us a text message a few minutes later, letting us know he’ll be arriving on the next flight there.

Jeongguk-he’s so cold when he’s angry. He’s so quiet. But that quiet is so loud. It speaks volumes.

I’ve seen Jeongguk loud with laughter and quiet in contemplation. But this? This was something different.

I guess the two of you are alike in that sense too. Both of your silences are never just quiet.

*beep*

December 30th at 15:37

So we-uhm-broke into your apartment.

Or well, Jeongguk did. But I guess all of us are accomplices because we kind of-well, we stood there as he did it. I don’t know why Jeongguk even knows how to pick locks, but I didn’t really have the chance to ask.

Your apartment looks normal. Still spotless. It looks like you. Like how it used to. Or how it used to before we lived together, at least.

I’m not going to lie, I-I’m a little surprised you didn’t move out. I couldn’t even go to the places we used to go to after you told me you wanted to break up.

I guess it didn’t bother you as much.

We scoured your apartment for clues as to where you could have gone, which may sound very Paper Towns of us, but—I don’t know—we were just looking for any sign as to where you might be. If you were okay. There weren’t any notes or anything that could give us a hint though, and Tae said it doesn’t look any different than when he last visited.

Jeongguk also called your credit card company to see what your last purchases were. To see if it would give us any clues. But you haven’t used it since you left. Everything is just blank.

Blank. Like you don’t want to be found.

Jeongguk is still upset that none of us told him—I can’t blame him for that—but I think he’s mostly upset at himself that he didn’t know. That you two stopped talking for a bit, and he didn’t notice anything was wrong.

I think he feels like he’s been drifting away from you too, ever since his job got busy and he moved for work. Or maybe it’s before that. I think he’s always felt like you don’t tell him everything, even though he pours everything out to you, looks up to you. I know you’d give him the world, Jimin, but Jeongguk would give up everything for you if you ask.

But you don’t ask. You never do. You don’t let people in when you’re hurting. Maybe it’s the ballet training instilled in you to smile through the pain. Cover up the flaws. Put on a performance all the time. You pretend it doesn’t exist and push people out.

No, you just disappear instead.

*beep*

December 30th at 21:02

Tae and I are staying over at your apartment. I hope you don’t mind. We just decided we would rather not risk having anyone in your apartment see us try and break down your door and call the police on us, haha. It makes it easier if we’re in your apartment so we can open the door in case we need anything. Or find something that we missed.

It’s-uhm. It’s weird being here. Feels like I've been displaced from the present and back into the past, only you’re not here.

I noticed you took down all the photos of London.You used to have that big photograph wall next to your bed, filled with pictures from when you lived there, from when you used to dance. But all your ballet photos are gone too. Tae told me you took them down a while ago, a little after the break up. Said you stopped dancing for fun too, after a while.

I just-

I hope-

Ah, fuck it. Nevermind.

It’s so weird to be back here.

*beep*

December 30th at 22:14

I found my sweater under your pillow. The white one with the moon on it?

I thought I had lost it after we broke up. I wanted to ask you if you had it, if i forgot to take it with me when I moved out, but by then we had already been one month in and-

And it hurt. To think about you. Even though that was all I was doing.

It kind of felt like it does right now. How you permeate my every thought and every moment, even though you weren’t there. The quiet was-is-so loud with your absence.

It smells like you. The sweater.

I just-

I don’t know what that means.

I don’t know what any of this means.

I just don’t understand why my sweater would be under your pillow because it was you. You’re the one who told me you wanted to break up.

You told me you didn’t want to do this anymore, didn’t have the energy to try. You were so sad, and I wanted to argue, wanted to beg you to let me stay until you were better, but you were so sad. So sad and exhausted and defeated and certain in your decision that I knew there was no use fighting it.

How could I hold on to someone who’s not there anymore, right?

I’ve been telling myself that we can’t understand break ups or feelings. There’s no understanding them. We feel what we feel and sometimes there are no explanations for it. So I knew. I got it. I understood there was no point in asking to stay, but I regretted not asking you for a reason.

I still do.

I didn’t have the chance to ask you why because I was too busy staggering from the weight of I don't love you anymore. Too busy struggling to piece together what those words mean.

Love is a two way street; it goes both ways. But you made the decision, and all of a sudden, that two way street morphed into a dead end, and I had no choice but to walk away from it, back out the way I came from.

I wish I could say that I didn’t see it coming. That it came out of left field, out of the blue. But I can’t because I had been bracing myself for the impact for weeks. For months.

Would it have changed things if I hadn’t known? Would it have hurt less?

I don’t know.

I don’t know. But I wish I did.

I wish I knew, Jimin.

*beep*

Message deleted. You have no new voicemails. Main menu.

A/N: come talk to me! let me know your thoughts! once again, thank you to hana and noor. this story wouldn’t exist without the two of you.

#jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin x oc #jimin fic #jimin angst #bts fic #jimin scenario #bts scenario #bts imagine #jimin imagine #bangtanuniversity #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #heartsforbts

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yournameyn · 3 years

Text

Feeling Deeply Chapter 5

Genre: Arranged Marriage Fic. Fluff turning into angst?

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Summary: The story of two deeply feeling nerds who find themselves in an arranged marriage. (Details here). Our OC is called Brishti. It’s a Bengali name meaning rain. Namjoon calls her Rim (short for her pet name, RimJhim which means the pitter-patter of rain). She calls him Joon.

Warnings: NOT THE NAMJOON OF OUR DREAMS. Argument. Fight over tiny discrepancies that turn out to be a huge problem. Domestic violence. Not a happy chapter.

A/N: Have you ever felt this, reader? When you watch something and realise exactly what you need to realise in that moment? I’ve had that so many times - seeing my feelings mirrored in a show. That’s something that I’ve tried to have Brishti feel here. Also, this is how I see the natural progression of this Namjoon, the one who obliged to duty rather than his dreams. It took me a long time to write this but I love what’s come out. Let me know what you think!

Current Chapter: London, late 1963. Love fully blooms between Namjoon and Brishti. And yet, something’s not right. A visit to the ballet and a conversation brings forth realisations. The inklings that Brishti was trying to avoid transform into writing on the wall.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The magic about new love isn’t really in romance or even in true intimacy. It’s in how violent new love is… and just how much time it takes us to feel it’s impact.

In the new love between Namjoon and Brishti, everything had been roses and honey, overflowing, swaying in a gentle breeze. They spent every second possible in each other’s arms. They had to tear themselves away from each other when they had to leave home. And even then, it hurt as though they were part of the same cloth.

Brishti had thought about how they had become woven, their souls an ornate tapestry. Namjoon had told her then about a Japanese tradition of weaving that was a sort of meditation and a kind of worship to a god called ‘Musubi’. The disciples say it is like being part of the cosmic tapestry. Being tied to each other.

“Just like we are… I felt a pull toward you and I followed it. I was scared… so full of doubts about who you were and how this was all going to go… I had promised myself that I would fulfil my duty… whatever happened ” Namjoon had said, petting Brishti’s hand gently, “And I… I still can’t believe it… It… you make me feel like I can… trust myself.” Brishti had looked at her genius then and wondered what a strange world it must be that made a man like Namjoon doubt himself, “Always, always trust yourself, Namjoon-ah.” and settled into the crook of his neck.

It was indeed a strange world that caused Namjoon to build an armour around himself. Because ‘London’ and ‘Lonely’ sounded just the same to him. His years alone in this strange place had been unkind, unrelenting. Brishti had been the only softness he had felt in a long long time. Armours built over years can break in an instant, though. For him, it was the moment when he and his wife had crossed the threshold to becoming lovers. High on the magic of new love, he had not realised it.

Sitting across from each other after that fateful evening, Namjoon and Brishti were both wide awake in the early hours of the next morning. Brishti buttoned up the shirt they never fully took off. Namjoon had tickled her with his toes. They propped their feet against the other’s to see just how vast the difference was (he melted seeing how small her feet were and hadn’t stopped playing with them since). Caressing each toe, he remembered something he wanted to ask -

“How did you know what Saranghae is?”

“Mm…” she stretched her arms, “I know what it means…” Brishti said.

“I know you know… from the way you… after I said it… You asked Yoongi about it?” Namjoon cautiously asked about the only other Korean Brishti knew. To his surprise, she nodded no, still denying him any information. Namjoon had to tickle her foot for the answer.

“Okay! Okay! Wait! Pleeeease!” Namjoon stopped and Brishti bent down to the bureau next to her bed and pulled out a textbook - LEARN HANGUL THROUGH ENGLISH. Namjoon looked more shocked than she had expected. “I asked Yoongi about the book-”

“You don’t need to Rim… I’m not learning Bangla, am I?” Namjoon said. He was touched but he didn’t want his love to do anything he couldn’t reciprocate.

“I would have asked you to learn it… if I wrote poetry in my mothertongue...” Brishti said. Namjoon was shocked. She went on, “You really think I didn’t know?”

Namjoon blushed and smiled and flopped over in Brishti’s lap. She brushed his hair as she explained, “You light up at the mention of lyrics and poetry, you keep a notebook by your side at all times, you’re moved by the things that people usually don’t pay attention to… I know you’re a poet, Joonie.”

Namjoon looked up at her and said, “No one has ever called me that…”

Brishti leaned down and kissed her gorgeous husband. “You are... From what I know, I bet all my books that you are a great one... And… I… I would love nothing more than to be part of your world of words, Joonie… It must be strange… to be understood but in a foreign language. If you would let me, I want to understand you in your language… Do you think that’s something maybe--”

He got up and all but jumped on Brishti, pinning her down to the bed with the cutest puppy-yell she had ever heard. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

They both understood that this was a proposal. The truest kind - a gentle request to explore Namjoon’s universe. They would later joke about how she proposed to him after a month of being married. Namjoon was completely delighted by this person with him, his person… one who really saw him.

He pulled her to him saying, “You’re the best part of my world, Rim...” and kissed her.

Each moment of love flowed through the next. When they had to be separated, they couldn’t wait for the next one, their moment again. On weekends they would visit museums and find their favourite paintings and sculpture or their favourite prehistoric relic and animal. Brishti hated the fact that Namjoon had to work overtime to compensate for these weekends and she often voiced how unfair it was.

In response Namjoon would just give her a peck and say, “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” This pricked her but she was too taken by the man before her to pay heed to it.

Namjoon was just about able to keep a straight face at work but everyone around Brishti was acutely aware of how much she loved Namjoon.

At one point, her colleague and best friend, Min Yoongi had yelled at her, “Yhaaaaa! Stop blushing?! It’s just a clock… what could be romantic about a clock?!” Sayuri-san, and she were hanging around Yoongi’s table when Brishti looked at his new flip clock and started blushing.

Brishti laughed along with everyone else but explained, “It’s involuntary… that’s what happens when you’re married to a poet.”

Sayuri-san corrected, “I know too many wives of poets to know that’s not necessarily true… It is true though, when you’re in love with a poet… Go on… tell us how exactly poet Namjoon makes you blush about a clock...”

Brishti blushed even more at that. Yoongi rubbed his arms and demanded, “Tell us because there’s some really weird things coming to my mind… like you guys have an exact time when...”

Brishti stopped his imagination, “No no no… it’s nothing like that… he loves digital clocks... because he loves to watch the time turn to 00:00… zero o’clock he calls it… and on days he feels sad, it’s like zero o’clock is always there to comfort him… like it’s a point when the whole world holds its breath and he can feel happy again… but these days… with me… he said he wants the clock to keep going after 23:59… he wishes time would stretch on… beyond 24:01…”

Yoongi sighed and sat back down, “You’re making me fall in love with Namjoon… ahhh that is beautiful. He should be published...”

“Imagine him saying this directly to you and you might know how I feel… I can’t stop talking about him...”

“Oh, we know. But honestly none of us care… your poet-librarian romance is getting us through our single-ness.” Yoongi reassured her.

The three of them continued to talk about the ways in which Brishti could repay Namjoon’s wordsmithing in graphic ways.

It was that evening, wasn’t it, when Namjoon had enveloped her back in the warmest hug as soon as he’d entered their flat. Brishti was in the kitchen when she heard him enter but hadn’t expected this. He kissed her neck while telling her the good news, “We got our first Korean client today… because of me… Mmmm… Why do you always smell so amazing?”

Brishti turned around and hugged him again, “That’s amazing! Namjoon-ssi! I’m so proud of you!”

“He’s from a wealthy family… so he can actually afford our firm… its not exactly the work I wanted to do--”

“It is a step toward that idea, right? It’s still good work, fighting for justice?” Brishti asked, stopping him from undermining his own work.

Namjoon nodded, “Yeah… He’s a dancer… Park Jimin. All the posh types know him as one of the best dancers in the Royal Ballet. They call him Jim… as if it’s too difficult to say Jimin?” Namjoon shook his head in disapproval. He began helping Brishti with the chopping and continued, “He was born in the UK and trained since he was 5... He got into the Royal Ballet but he’s been passed up to be a principal over and over even though everyone who has seen him dance apparently knows that he’s far far better… So recently he spoke to the director there... and of course the director made a racist slur and asked not to bother him with this again. He can’t even quit and work at another company because of the contract they have him on. There’s a non compete clause… meaning he won’t be able to dance with any other company. That’s all he wants… to be able to get out of that contract… I’m hoping to convince him to press charges on racial discrimination too. We’re not in the 20s anymore.”

When Brishti didn’t respond, Namjoon looked up at her. “That’s horrible… I’m so so glad you’re taking up the case. But please tell me what you ate when you were alone?” He looked down at the carrot he’d been failing to cut.

Namjoon scrunched his nose and admitted, “Canned food mostly.”

Brishti said, “I’m really really glad you’re getting to do work that you are passionate about, Joonie, you deserve it. Now, you should know how to cut a carrot.”

Namjoon pressed up against Brishti’s back. She reached back up to the nape of his neck and made him moan into her. Then… then Namjoon made her forget how to cut carrots.

He had these ways… Namjoon, with his touch, his voice, his languages both spoken and soundless. He was lighting new paths into her self. She loved learning him. Paths she didn’t know existed, that she’d been longing for.

The scars of the loneliness, emptiness that Namjoon had experienced had turned his longings into a kind of starvation. He needed to be nourished and also devoured. Brishti was just the creature to do it. He could feel her warm fingers trace rows of pleasure onto his skin. He felt them bear down and singe when the two of them had to move away from each other. He felt those ropes tug at him as the end of his workday neared. Namjoon closed his eyes each night at her touch, the feeling and fragrance of her body. He felt blooms of intimacy spring up like seedlings out of the soil of his skin. And deeper. In the earth of his soul. So he did the only thing he could. Reciprocate. Namjoon sowed his love, his desire, his need onto her, into her every night.

There were times, though, when she would feel his absence in the middle of the night and see him working in the dim light of a lamp. She knew he had to work hard to do what he wanted but she also saw he had to continually prove himself to people who weren’t even paying attention. The reason they weren’t paying attention was painfully clear to Brishti but she was yet to experience it’s full stab.

Namjoon wanted to shield her from it. He was counting on an armour that didn’t exist anymore to protect himself and his wife… the reason he liked his life again. Whenever she came out and switched on a brighter light, reprimanding him for straining his gorgeous eyes, he saw that it did prick her - this world and the unfairness he had to endure. She would say something small, an almost-complaint that alerted him… against her for some strange reason. She would say something that would be easy to ignore and yet would prick him, like - “I don’t know why they haven’t promoted you yet.” or “Why haven’t they taken up Jimin’s case yet? You’ve worked so hard on it.” Everytime she did that, he would have to pacify himself.

‘I’ve told her so much about the Jimin case… she’s just really invested’ Namjoon thought to himself. Just so he would avoid thinking, ‘I shouldn’t have told her.’

He would have to calm himself, give her a peck and try to convince her to stop worrying. “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” Namjoon would always say.

Then, Brishti smiled as she always did. While trying to understand why that sentence bothered her so much. After almost five months of exploring this wonderful man, some part of him still felt unfamiliar… like it didn’t fit in with the rest. Still, these things take time, she had heard from so many women over the years. Besides, she was blessed with a man far far above the norms. So, how could she prod? These are things Brishti had told herself - until the night she couldn’t stay silent.

The couple was coming up on their fifth month together and Park Jimin had gifted Namjoon a ticket to the final show of the season as a token of gratitude, for having heard his story.

Brishti was nervous about going to this kind of a gathering and had told her husband to meet her there.

She had enlisted the help of Sayuri-san to look appropriate for the event. Her slightly longer hair was clipped and her eyes were kohled. She wore a burgundy knee length fringe-ended dress that she had received from her gracious host, stylist and make-up artist - an inheritance of her brilliant life tucked into the black pearl beading and deco design. It was a big departure from the usual tie-die or band tees and jeans with her baggy coat. She had carried the coat but felt this strange sort of compulsion to stand in the cold air in the noodle strap dress, for him to see her.

She felt butterflies in her stomach and kept fiddling with the coat she had draped over her arm. It was electric when she saw him.

Namjoon looked gorgeous in a tux. All of Brishti’s nerves were soothed just by looking at him. He had brushed his hair back. Tall and dashing - better than any heathcliffe could ever be. And with his reading glasses, he looked like the lead of a romance novella that would make all the women swoon. Indeed she was swooning. Brishti was suddenly warm in the chilly, windy night. And when Namjoon saw her, blood rushed to her cheeks. Everything inside her was running helter skelter in a panic. Brishti felt everything drop in the few moments it took for Namjoon to reach the top of the stairs. Dolled up like this, outside of her element, she felt like an imposter. Some angel needed to be standing in her place. For the first time, feigning beauty, Brishti felt like she wasn’t worthy of her husband.

She was finally able to keep her feelings aside when he reached her.

Namjoon kissed her palm like a gentleman and whispered in her ear, “Let’s go home… I need a private kind of dance…” Brishti blushed. Namjoon put his arm around her and felt the chill that had settled on her skin. “Aren’t you cold? Why didn’t you wear the coat?” Namjoon asked. Brishti just shook her head no and the two of them walked in.

Brishti assumed that the ballet would be a welcome distraction from the storm that brewed within her. She had read up about the show, the piece they were going to perform -

Tchaikovsky’s venerated Swan Lake. The story of a young girl who falls in love with a prince who promises to save her but fails. Ofcourse there were finer nuances to the story but this was the basic plot. As the lights dimmed, Brishti felt pulled in by the music, the eerie beauty of it’s melody played in perfectly with the questions that were swirling around in Brishti’s mind -

Why do I feel wrong?

Is this what Yoongi was talking about? Anxiety…?

Why does Namjoon look so... different?

Why is he so quiet, so… distant…It’s like he’s keeping himself away from me despite being right next to me, arm in arm, like the true Namjoon is somewhere in a glass case? Deep deep beneath whatever this creature is who is next to me?

I’m thinking too much. No. What is this? Why am I feeling this way?

It’s the music… no its not just the music… something is fucking wrong because all I feel like doing is breaking that glass case that’s locked away My Namjoon and presented this fucking imposter. What the hell is going on?!

Brishti barely managed to keep it together. She kept her eyes on stage…

It was like seeing a moving painting being created by invisible hands and the music was the sound of the brushstrokes, amplified. Park Jimin was playing Rothbart, the owl-like magician who curses Odette into a swan until she finds someone who would promise to love her forever. The questions in her mind and the power of the spectacle before her forced her tears to keep flowing.

Namjoon saw Brishti cry and held on to her. But the more he tried to comfort her, the more uneasy she became, the more she coudln’t contain the tears in her eyes.

The curtain fell at the end of Act three when the prince realises he has been tricked. Brishti, somehow, mirrored his grief. The prince was cheated by Rothbart into believing that his daughter, Odile, was Odette. Rothbart relished his plan so despicably it made Brishti’s stomach turn. The prince had already declared to the ballroom full of people his vow to love and marry the maiden by his side - Odile, not Odette. Park Jimin played Rothbart so skillfully, so beautifully that despite being the villain, despite being covered from head to toe, he was the star. Rothbart giggled delightfully as he revealed to the prince that the girl in his arms wasn’t Odette at all. That Odette was waiting for her prince by the lake. The curtain fell as the prince felt the stab of betrayal and rushed to Odette.

Brishti rushed to where she did not know. She wanted to get away from Namjoon, from this feeling that she couldn’t understand, couldn’t explain. She was angry. She wanted to break something. Tears still flowing down her face, she found a corner that was hidden away in darkness. She went in. Brishti sat on the couch there, for what seemed like eternity, breathing heavily. Nothing made sense. It felt like her insides were twisting into each other. Suddenly, though, a door creaked open and out came an angel. A man, glowing, having just freshened up. He saw her, saw her fear and instead of pulling back in shock, approached with a strange kindness. He held her wrist and stayed silent for a moment.

His beauty was also a kindness to her. In that moment, Brishti could breathe a little bit better. He sat down by her knees, on the floor and when he spoke, his voice flowed like a tonic, “First time at the ballet? It’s overwhelming… I know. You’re okay. You are safe. Rothbart is not here. Talk to me… what are you feeling?”

The tears kept flowing. This man was different, she knew he understood what she was feeling like. She felt safe, but not as if she was with a saviour, rather as though she was with another victim.

“What are you feeling…” Park Jimin repeated. The pieces were falling into place in her head. This is Park Jimin, the man who danced as Rothbart. The man who should have danced the Prince. Who should have played Odette and Odile.

“I feel… rage.” Brishti trembled as she spoke. She could breathe again.

“Yes… Rothbart is… evil… I’m sorry-”

Brishti nodded her head no. “At the prince.”

Jimin was surprised. “Let it out. You can scream in here and no one would know.”

Brishti didn’t need another invitation, but her rage wasn’t a scream, it was a whisper - “I want to hit the prince. How could he not now? He couldn’t see that that girl was not Odette? Is he blind? The way she moved, the way she danced… which only means… it means that the prince knew… somewhere he felt doubt but he… He couldn’t fucking trust himself enough?! I don’t know why this is breaking my heart… Why can’t people trust in themselves?! It’s a pathetic fucking excuse and I can’t buy it… I just can’t. Why did the prince...” Her hands covered her face as she wiped her tears. She composed herself.

Jimin pulled out a kerchief. “May I?” Brishti nodded and he dabbed her face with care.

“The prince trusted his sight more than his soul. And now, Odette will die because of it. As always, the woman pays the price.”

“He dies too, you know.”

“What a waste…”

Jimin smiled, “Thank you… for watching the show, for feeling it so much.”

Brishti managed a weak smile, “Thank you.” Jimin stepped away and sat next to her, at a respectable distance. “I’m being lied to.”

Jimin nodded, “I know what that’s like. I feel that rage against the prince too. And still, we must be kind to our liars.”

Brishti clenched her teeth, “Why? Where’s the fairness in that?”

Jimin moves away, in a dejected kind of daze and pours himself a drink, “That’s the biggest lie, fairness. Cruel joke.”

Brishti walked toward the door. “I should go… Thank you.”

Jimin raised his glass to her.

Brishti wore her coat and walked toward the exit. She found Namjoon in a panic and suddenly felt like she could reach him. He looked so relieved to see her. She couldn’t help but feel awash with love as he crashed into her in the warmest hug. It was as if he was the one who was lost.

“Are you okay? Why were you crying?” Namjoon asked her as he stroked her head and held her in the hug for as long as she needed.

“I need to ask you something.” Brishti whispered as she pulled away. They began walking down the stairs of the theatre.

“Änything.” Namjoon replied.

“Your firm… they refused the Jimin case, right?”

Namjoon froze. His jaw locked up. “Let’s go home.”

The rest of the way, neither of them spoke a word. They entered their home in a cold silence. They washed the night off themselves and entered their bedroom, which was completely devoid of the heat and desire that usually filled it right up to the ceiling. What used to feel like an ocean, now felt like a vacuum.

When Namjoon walked in, Brishti reminded him, as kindly as she could,“I said I need to ask you something. You said, ‘anything’.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about it.” Namjoon was cold again. Unfeeling. Unreachable.

Brishti tried her best to be calm… “When would you want to talk about it?”

Namjoon breathed in - “Why? Am I answerable to you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we disagree. I don’t think I am answerable to you. What would you have done if I wouldn’t have told you about it in the first place?”

“I would still be feeling what I’m feeling… I would be even more furious though.”

“Fu- why would you be furious? I have to work there, I lost the account. I’m feeling hurt and disappointed in myself and instead of helping me, you’re angry?! What the hell could you be angry at?!”

“I’m being lied to. I’m being tricked.”

“What?!” the contempt on Namjoon’s face made her head throb. He was angry now.

“There are two Namjoons here. I’m being told there’s only one and--”

“That is some philosophical trash that you learned from one of your books. Real life doesn’t work that way. But how would you know?! You don’t have a real job. You have a hobby. A hobby of stacking books in order. You’re just plain lucky that someone is paying you for your hobby. That’s not a job. You of all people cannot tell me about the things I have to do to keep my job. I have tried my best to be as honest as I can be--”

“As honest as you can --”

“Listen to me!” Namjoon thundered. His loud voice might as well have been a punch. It rang through her body and rattled her bones. She had tears in her eyes but clenched them down as Namjoon continued yelling, “Enough… enough with the fucking tears. What the fuck are you so sad about?! I don’t need you to pity me. I don’t need anyone to feel sad for me. I have tried to be a good man - do you even know how much other men don’t even mention to their wives?! I told you everything. EVERYTHING. And now I’m being punished for it. Time and time again I tried to console you… even though I was the one hurting… I tried to be there for you and tell you… as long as I have --”

Brishti couldn’t take it anymore “Don’t. Say that.” She didn’t yell. Her voice was just above a whisper and yet it sent a chill down Namjoon’s spine. She wiped her tears. “I didn’t ask to be consoled. I was just… curious. If a few questions from me hurt so much maybe you should ask yourself why. I’m not lucky that someone decided to pay me for my hobby. It’s nice to know what you really think of my job. But whatever you think, I created my job. I created my life. I fought to come to london. I fought for the right to earn--”

“Oh please... spare me the feminist lecture...” scoffed Namjoon.

“Sure. Take up Jimin’s case.”

Namjoon felt the burn of white hot rage. He wanted to strangle her. He was so used to touching her… and she was his… in this bedroom, he had made her his. He wasn’t thinking. Namjoon strode toward her and held one massive palm over her mouth and the other on her neck and pinned her to the wall. “YOU WOULDN’T HAVE KNOWN ABOUT THAT IF I DIDN’T TELL YOU.”

It took him a few moments to realise what he was doing. Brishti was shocked and tried to scream but no voice came out. She was trying to get him out of his daze when he finally saw her, saw his Rim, horrified… by him. Namjoon pulled his hands back instantly. He saw a red bruise bloom where his hands were - on her face and on her neck.

“This is how you make your conscience shut up?” Brishti’s voice was hoarse. “You think this has nothing to do with your conscience? With the best part of you? The part that you made me fall in love with? Are you really telling me you don’t know that this is why you can’t write the way you used to… You’re killing my Joon and asking me to stay silent. I can’t.”

The searing anger still hadn’t died and it burst out of him, “Why are we fighting like this… over Jimin… why don’t you take up his case if you fucking love him so much?”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?”

“You… Why are you fighting for him against me?!” It was here that Namjoon realised his armour was gone. The idea of who he is... suddenly vanished. And the one thing that had made him feel safe, like his true self, was slipping away. “You’re saying… just tell me… you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

Brishti did him the only kindness she had left in her, she explained, “Jimin wants to leave but can’t. He stays because he needs to dance. He stays because he cannot get out of his contract. You say you want to help people like Jimin, you roll your eyes at white people who can’t pronounce our names, you feel guilty for asians who have much less than we do… but then you also don’t raise an issue when your boss holds meetings in clubs where people of other races and dogs and women are not allowed. You work overtime for the privilege of weekends… You say you are trying but… as far as I know… you don’t have a non-compete clause in your contract, Namjoon.”

That hit him like an iceberg. Namjoon’s legs gave way and he just sat on the bed.

He watched as Brishti put on her coat and left, covering her bruises with a scarf.

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Chapter 6 - to be posted.

#bts kim namjoon #kim namjoon #forever rain #fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon arranged marriage #namjoon x oc #arranged marriage #slow burn #slow burn fic #fluff fic #bts fanfic #bts #indian oc #red thread fics

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

The Stepmother ~ JJK [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 2.3K

↬↬↬Genre: Non Idol! Family man Jungkook, CEO jungkook, fluffy

↬↬↬Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Jungkook was sitting in his home office saying goodnight to his kids, he was working late again so you were going to do the nice thing and put them to bed for him. He was always working late but thankfully he would come home from his office in the middle of Seoul to come and do his work, never wanting to be away from you and his kids for too long.

"Daddy do we have to go to sleep? We're not tired!" His daughter yelled throwing her arms up dramatically and twirling around. She was still dressed up in her ballet uniform, she'd put on a small show for you and Jungkook after dinner and insisted on wearing it for the rest of the night.

"You have school in the morning darling, your mum will be mad if we don't put you to bed." Jungkook was doing his best to make her see that going to bed was the right thing to do but she was grumbling about how she wanted him to put her to bed instead of you,

"Please Daddy we want you to put us to bed, not her." You looked down at the floor trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach, you tried not to take it to heart whenever her or her brother would say things like that. They were kids so they didn't know the meaning behind their words even if she did say ''her'' with a harsh tone.

"Come on sweetie, your dad needs to work." You whispered taking her out of the room and into the hallway of the giant home that you and Jungkook lived in - the joys of living with a CEO meant living in a huge house you would sometimes get lost in.

"You did great today, how was practice?" You were trying to make conversation with a six-year-old girl who had made it clear she didn't like you, you'd hoped over time they would grow used to you but it never really happened. You figured it was because their mum was Jungkook's ex-wife that they didn't like you for breaking up their home - which you didn't do. Jungkook and you had gotten together long after he and his ex-wife had broken up and filed for divorce but you didn't blame the kids for blaming you. You had been the same when your father remarried, you didn't like the new girl either but you would do anything to make sure the kids were happy.

"Do you guys want me to read a story?" You questioned as they walked with you towards their bedroom door. Even though the house had more bedrooms than you did shoes Jungkook allowed them to share one room for now since they were still young. Inside there was a huge set of bunk beds with bedsheets in different colours. Each of them had their own side of the room which they had decorated themselves with Jungkook one weekend - it was a long weekend full of paint fights and laughter the house had never been so loud before. Somedays the relationship you had with the kids would be better than others. If you and Jungkook had them for a week they would warm up to you eventually, only to go home to their mum and come back as totally different kids. Yelling at you or spitting abuse in your direction but Jungkook would never do anything about it - mostly because he'd never really taken notice of it before. He was a busy man. You tried not to take it to heart whenever they would come back as different kids who hated your guts but it was hard especially when you and Jungkook had been planning your future together, you didn't feel comfortable being in their future if they didn't like you.

"Can you read us the one about the princess and the ugly step-mother!?" Jungkook's son called out as he rushed into his room and over to the step ladders that got him into the top bunk, he had been the one that was nice to you first. He was a dead ringer for Jungkook as well, he had those same doe-like eyes that made you weak, honestly, the kid could get away with anything if he flashed his eyes around.

"Sure! Do you want the long or short version?" You teased knowing they would always opt for the longer one because it meant that they could stay up later than they shoulder,

"We should get the shorter one, mum is always annoyed whenever we tell her we get the longer version," You looked at his daughter who was packing her bag for school tomorrow and then climbing into her bed. She was mature for someone of her age, you smiled softly at her hoping she would smile back but she got into bed and turned away from you.

"Short one it is then," You whispered sitting down on a chair next to the bed to start telling them the story of Cinderella, you had it memorised in your brain from all of the times you'd heard it as a kid along with all the times you'd read it to both of them.

"Y/n? You won't be like the stepmother in the book will you?" You looked up at the top bunk to see Jungkook's son staring at you through the bars, you glanced at his daughter who looked quite scared as he asked that question.

"Of course not, why would you think that?" Neither of them spoke after that, they just turned around to listen to the rest of the story you were about to tell them but the question lingered in your mind.

"Do you think they'll ever like me?" Your question came out more nervous than you had intended, Jungkook was sitting in the bed with a report trying to finalise it before he went to sleep.

"They love you-" He could tell by the look on your face that you weren't about to buy into that same lie, he sighed placing down the folder and holding out his arms for you. Sighing you crawled into the bed beside him and let him wrap his arms around your shoulder,

"Y/n we've been over this. They just need time to warm up to you." Had he not realised it had almost been two years and they still didn't like you.

"Your daughter hates me Kookie," You whispered turning to face the front of the room instead of looking at him.

"She doesn't hate you she...She's stubborn like her mum." He pulled you closer to his body promising you that he would resolve all of this somehow,

"Are you still dropping them off tomorrow morning with me? I hate the way the other mums look at me." You shuddered at the thought. They all looked at you like you were a home-wrecker. They'd all been friends with Jungkook's wife for years so it wasn't hard to see why they didn't like you but you would have thought they'd be more welcoming to someone who was looking after their friend's kids.

"Yeah, I have to speak to their teachers about something so it's a good thing. Will you get some rest? I have to finish this report first." You nodded your head leaning your head back to kiss him, he left a gentle kiss on your lips before you rolled over to sleep.

Breakfast that morning had been painfully quiet, the kids were keeping their heads down and barely speaking a word to either you or Jungkook.

"Look who's here," You heard someone snigger as you got out of the black SUV that Jungkook had insisted you drove to school in for the day. The usual gaggle of mums were all standing by the gates talking to one another while having their morning coffee's, you looked away from them not wanting to stare while they spoke about you.

"Driving his car now? Does he pay you to look after his kids?!" One of the bolder mothers asked smirking until Jungkook got out of the back seat carrying his son on his hip with his daughter holding his hand. He saw the look on your face and he knew what was happening with them,

"You coming with me?" He questioned reaching you and leaving a kiss on your cheek.

"No, I-I'll stay here with the car. You should speak to the teacher alone." You whispered not having the guts to walk past the mums who would no doubt have something worse to say, they were all dressed in posh outfits while you were in workout leggings and a hoodie - you saw no reason to dress up for just dropping the kids off. It wasn't a fashion show.

"I'll be out as soon as I can." He whispered kissing you on the lips and walking with his kids further into the playground, ignoring the flirty comments he got from mums as he walked by them. It was always the same but who wouldn't want to flirt with Jungkook, he was gorgeous.

"How do you sleep at night?" A voice came out from behind you and you knew it too well turning around to see Jungkook's ex-wife standing there, her hands on her hips as she tapped her heeled foot on the ground.

"Excuse me?" You were polite every time you spoke with her not wanting to cause any unwanted fueds between you both.

"How do you sleep at night? Knowing that you ruined my happy marriage?" You had no idea where any of this was coming from, but she began crying hysterically in front of everyone and you took a step back when the same gaggle of mothers rushed to her aid.

"Sleeping with a married man was one thing but then acting like the kids are you own! It's despicable." One of the mothers spat at you, so that was why they didn't like you? She'd told them you'd been sleeping with Jungkook when they were together which was far from the reason why they broke up.

"I didn't-"

"Go on! Deny it! This is why the kids will never! Like you." She yelled the crocodile tears disappearing as she launched herself towards you screaming about how she was always going to turn the kids on you. What both of you had failed to realise was Jungkook coming back towards the car, she had no idea he'd even been in the school.

"What are you talking about?" You asked as you stared at her,

"You think those little brats want to hate you?! I remind them every day not to be nice to you, telling them to ignore you and do the opposite because I know Jungkook will NEVER marry you if the kids hate you." She had a giant smirk plastered across her face as she admitted to all of this right in front of you, she knew all too well that you would never repeat a word of it back to Jungkook. You were far too nice for that but luckily for you, you wouldn't have to.

"Did I hear that correctly?" Jungkook came out from behind the gates where he had been hiding himself to hear the full story.

"You're turning our kids against the woman I love?" She began stumbling over her words while turning the waterworks back on. The other mothers were still cradling her body as if she was someone that needed to be protected,

"If you hadn't slept with another woman maybe this wouldn't have happened!" A blonde screeched but Jungkook pushed his hands into his suit pockets laughing softly,

"Is that what she told you happened? Shall we tell them the real reason we're divorced?" Jungkook pulled one of his hands from his pocket and stretched his hand out for you to take, you gladly did falling into his side and relaxing a little now that he was by your side. The other mothers began leaning away from his ex frowning at what he was saying.

"Should we mention the money you were keeping from me? The men you were seeing behind my back or should we mention the constant need to party almost every weekend which was why I was granted almost full custody." Jungkook had finally had enough of her treating you the way she did and now that she'd brought the kids into the battle he wasn't about to let her get away with everything he'd been doing.

"No...No Jungkook I was just-"

"You were just leaving. You'll hear from the lawyer in a couple of weeks, don't think for one second I won't file for full custody," He hissed at her pulling you in the direction of the SUV and helping you inside. The gaggle of mothers all left her standing there alone as she came to terms with what the lying she'd been doing had gotten her into.

"You can't take them away from me-"

"Yes I can and I will." He told her as he got into the car and started up the engine, leaving her there in the street while he drove off with you by his side.

"You alright?" He chuckled, you'd been the one to get insulted and yet you were the one asking if he was alright,

"I'm fine. How are you?" You shrugged your shoulders, none of their comments had ever really bothered you but at least you got to the bottom of why the kids hadn't taken too kindly to you.

"I'll talk to them later, but for now I have the rest of the day off...What do you want to do?" He chuckled leaning across when he got to a red light so that he could kiss you.

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples @lynnthevirgo @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @callingmyangel @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @innersooya

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ribcage-rodents · 3 years

Text

Dick Grayson had a coffee journal, baking journal, cooking journal (along w others like car/bike journal (he built his own motorcycle for fun then taught himself how to ride)). He always had to be busy and bettering himself so eventually he tried learning how to cook and bake and be a barista. He would do research on how to make something write tons of recipes and equations down to pop every single kernel or perfectly aerate the milk to get the right texture.Then take notes about the process and outcome in his journal until he perfected it and moved on to the next subject.

Every morning Bruce would wake up drink black coffee and eat a breakfast prepared by Alfred. Dick was definitely the most independent out of all the Robins, he dictated everything in his own schedule and while he did have a few routines he mostly did whatever he wanted. He graduated valedictorian with perfect attendance at 14 because he hacked the attendance records. He was apart of debate, math-let’s, drama, gymnastics, yearbook, prom, student council, and he was cheer captain. He never showed up to class or practices, only meets, championships, games, and tests. Somehow always winning or getting the highest score and always completing homework. He also tutored on fridays.

One routine Dick almost always stuck to was his morning routine, he didn’t like sleeping bc nightmares and the fear of being unconscious kept him awake as long as he could stand. Around five he would go to his personal gym and start on stretches, then go to gymnastics, around 6:30 he would go for a run and get a smoothie bowl from his favorite shop then head home. He would then do aerial ballet and practice hand to hand combat, then weapons mainly things like knife throwing, baterang aim, staff, and escrima sticks, then cool down with ballet. Around 7 Bruce would wake up. After training Dick would start on missions.

When Bruce would go to work there’d be sticky notes on his desk something from Dick along the lines of, “Hi B! Today I made a wet cappuccino, I gave you four shots of espresso with two pumps of vanilla flavoring. Cappuccinos are different than the latte I made last week because you aerate the milk longer to make more foam. This cappuccino is wet because I left the steamed milk in, instead of a dry one which I’m gonna make next!” His drink would be sitting in a thermos still warm and steaming.

He didn’t get one everyday, only when Dick felt his drinks were good enough for B to try. And to be fair it wasn’t always all that tasty.

Dick also made B lunch everyday. At first some of his employees laughed bc “a billionaire eating a sack lunch!?” It was usually just like a small salad (Dick was actually very proud of learning how to make a basic salad), some type of sandwich (as time went on, sometimes they’d be grilled and fancy like a panini), and something like grapes, and finally usually some type of pastry Alfred made. These sack lunches always came with at least one note stuck on the outside of the bag w something like “Hi B! Good morning and afternoon! I made you a PB&J and I got the sweet purple grapes and also Alfred made a really good peach tart! I had one with my smoothie this morning it’s very good! I also wanted to make you kettle corn because that was one of my favorite foods when I was younger but I’m still working on it:(. And then usually a sign off with a tiny bird or heart.

On days when there were two notes in the bag were always B favorite. Sometimes it meant Dick made something he felt was good enough for B. And much like the coffee notes would describe what the food was and how he made it. Other times it was just useless additional information like, “I tried to make toast for breakfast today so I did research last night and completed the equations and it came out beautifully golden and crunchy but not too crunchy. But then after like twenty seconds I was holding it and it just burst into flame…. And then the toaster also burst into flame. Don’t tell Alfred (I’m pretty sure he already knows)

Bruce kept every single one of these notes. He still has each one carefully laminated and stuck in a shoe box in his closet. Sometimes when he fights w the younger ones or if he bonds w the younger ones or if he just plain misses his first (and favorite) son, he’ll open the box and read through them logging the date and remembering how old Dick was, what he did that month. Did he go to Dick’s cheer tournament? No he never did. Dick won a trophy for that gymnastics routine later that day right? He should go check the trophy room to make sure.

Sometimes he’ll stare at his phone hovering over the call button. He never does, he’s always been horrible at talking about feelings but Dick never was. And when he visits home, Bruce knows it’s only for the other kids, because Tim’s been struggling, because Cass wants to dance and watch Disney movies or she has a new fantasy book but she’d rather he read it (she does this w Jason too but he’s rarely around so Dick stepped in he tries to justice to J’s story telling), or it’s waffle Wednesday w steph (she’ll discuss everything they’re gonna do and talk about it all week bragging really and b can’t blame her for having pride in a loving happy family, he’d prideful too), or Damian wanted Dick to come over instead of visiting him at Wally’s apartment because “Pennyworth (the cat) misses you that is all”, or he’s dragging Jason back for a nice family dinner. And Bruce knows he’s here for them, that Dick would never come home just for Bruce. But then Dick comes over with a fancy home brewed coffee with fancy cream art and smile at him like he’s still just a tiny little kid, and Bruce is reminded that yes he made mistakes but Dick will always view him as his father and will always love him. And Bruce knows that even though he can’t articulate or show his pride and admiration and limitless love Dick knows.

#dick grayson #batfamily #babydickie #batdad #bruce's favorite #bruce wayne #batman #Batman is bad at emotions

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maddiewritesstucky · 3 years

Text

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Stripper Bucky / Architect Steve

Words: 3790

Tags: Sexy shower antics, post-exercise endorphin highs, Steve is a badass for like 10 minutes, Bucky is not a morning person (until he suddenly is), enthusiastic morning sex

A follow-up one-shot to the slow death of Steve Rogers. Many thanks to my radiant cassowary @kalee60 for giving it your clever eyes. Infinite birdseed for you 😘

(Also on Ao3)

When Bucky wakes up, he is aware of two things, and two things only.

One - it’s way too fucking early for his eyelids to have peeled themselves back the way they have, if the rosy tint of the sky outside is anything to go by, and two - his foot should have connected with some part of Steve’s anatomy by now on it’s customary post-waking stretch across the mattress.

His body is coming online one limb at a time, and he grunts his displeasure into the rumpled sheets; gaze firmly averted from the clock on the bedside table. Putting a number to it will only make him angry, and the stupid beautiful soft dawn light filling the bedroom tells him everything he needs to know anyway.

Why they had decided to move into Steve’s apartment when Bucky’s actually had things like properly functioning curtains, he has no idea.

"Steve,” he groans, voice thick with the remnants of sleep and the injustice of waking before he intended to.

He kicks his foot out a little further; throws an arm out to join the search party too, but finds Steve’s side of the bed decidedly more vacant than it had been when he fell asleep last night.

Running, some vaguely helpful part of Bucky’s subconscious supplies, you fell for a man who goes running at bastard o’clock in the morning.

He flops over onto his back and scrubs his hands up over his face; up through the tangled mess of hair that seems to find new ways of defying its scrunchie-prison every night. His vision sharpens into focus and sticks a moment on the giant canvas print photo of himself and Steve smiling back at him from the far wall; a grinning relic of a Bucky who was not woken before his time.

It still makes his stomach flip a little, that picture - the two of them stuffed into the heavy-knit sweaters Bucky’s ma had made them last Christmas; both in the throes of losing their shit over the comically absurd miscalculation she’d made on size. Steve’s got tears in his eyes, and Bucky’s aren’t even open, and they’re clinging to each other with that special kind of desperation that intense, prolonged laughter seems to spawn.

It’s everything good about their life together, that photo; the sheer warmth and joy they’ve found in one another over the past year, the sense of home and family and right.

It’s even more heartwarming, Bucky finds, when the sun is a reasonable distance above the horizon.

He drags his protesting body out of its sleep-warmed cocoon, his intentions set on the brand new bag of espresso grind that Last-Night Bucky had so wisely left sitting on the kitchen counter.

He’s going to use Steve’s favorite mug, the one he’d happened across in a yard sale that reads ‘architects do it on drafting tables’ with a lewd stick figure drawing. Partially because it holds the most coffee, and partially because if Steve had remained in bed this morning, with all his familiar warmth and dependable big-spoon behavior, Bucky would have remained blissfully unconscious until his alarm went off.

...Steve’s not here to actually see this particular middle-finger of a gesture, but that’s beside the point. Bucky will know.

It’s not until he’s shuffling his way down the hall, already two steps past the closed bathroom door, that Bucky registers the faint sounds of water hitting tile, and the sporadic, off-key hum of a post-run Steve.

His feet halt in their tracks before he’s even made the conscious decision that coffee can wait.

He wants to keep walking, to get his precious cup of bean nectar and crawl back into bed for another hour or three, it’s just...

Post-run Steve is kind of Bucky’s jam.

He’s sweaty, and loose-limbed, and hopped up on exercise endorphins which, more often than not, make him inexplicably horny and give him the closest approximation of a bad boy complex that someone with Steve’s demeanor could possibly get.

Post-run Steve is the only good thing about being awake at this god forsaken hour.

The sunrise, and the stillness, and the smell of fresh dew can get fucked, but Bucky will carpe the hell out of a diem for some Post-run Steve.

He slips quietly into the bathroom, and is immediately grateful for the time he spent descaling the shower door yesterday when he’s met with an unimpeded view of Steve’s glorious back. What goddamn right an architect has looking like that, Bucky has no idea, but you wanna talk about some aesthetically pleasing angles?

Steve’s got one hand braced against the wall, head dipped to draw out the line of his back. His skin’s a little flushed; water channeling in fast-flowing rivulets between the soft ridges and swells of his drawn-taut muscles, and he’s breathing those quiet grunts of the recently-exerted.

He’s a living, breathing thirst-trap, and the knowledge that he’d only blush and change the subject if Bucky told him so just makes it a thousand times better.

Bucky pushes his soft flannel sleep pants off his hips and lets them fall to the floor, sending up another silent salute to Last-Night Bucky for going commando, and steps forward to pull open the shower door.

...Later on, when Bucky is reflecting on it all, he’ll blame the early hour and his pre-caffeinated state for the fact that he didn’t realise. The soft noises falling from Steve’s lips, the very particular bunch and flex of very particular muscles…

Any other time of day, Bucky would have known straight away.

Any other time of day, and Bucky wouldn’t have even needed to be in the same room - he could be at the bodega down the street, and his nipples would inexplicably harden at the pluck of Steve’s distant arousal on the cosmic spiderweb.

But as it happens in the moment, it’s not until Steve’s head is falling back on a low moan that Bucky realizes exactly what it is he’s walked in on.

“Oh, shit...”

It’s off his tongue before he can reel it back in, and Steve almost jumps out of his skin.

His head whips around, and for the briefest flicker of a moment, he looks shocked and uncertain and embarrassed as all hell.

But this right here is no weekday-afternoon Steve. This is not the blushing, bumbling hunk of love meee that occupies the corporeal form of Steve Rogers 95% of the time.

No, this is Post-run Steve, and it’s all of about two seconds before he’s schooling his features into something more akin to vaguely-smirking indifference; turning until he’s facing Bucky front on, and settling his weight back against the shower wall.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t--” Bucky begins, as close to apologetic as one can really be about seeing their significant other in a compromising yet Very Sexy position. But the words dry up on his lips as Steve lifts a finger to his own in the universal gesture of ‘shush.’

He watches, rapt, as Steve first reaches over to the tap and shuts off the water, and then takes up the bottle of Bucky’s conditioner, squirting some into his hand before wrapping it back around his cock.

And then that jacked-up idiot, that neuro-chemical flooded pseudo bad bitch, looks Bucky dead in the eye...and goes right back to jerking off.

He’s putting on a goddamn show with it too - pulling at his cock, long and slow and tight; dropping his head back against the wall and letting his moans ricochet shamelessly off the tile. The sound of his fist working over his dick is lewd as hell, so much more audible for the fact that there’s no rush of running water to mask it anymore, and Bucky wonders briefly if he ever actually woke up at all, if this isn’t just all a very believable wet dream.

It certainly contains all the usual elements - intense eye contact; a big fat dick getting rubbed off by a beefy, naked, wet dude (bonus that it’s Bucky’s actual, real-life boyfriend); the kinds of sounds you usually only hear in porn…

For all Bucky knows, he could still be tucked up in bed asleep, and not standing here naked and painfully erect in this steamed up bathroom, watching his boyfriend jack it like he’s starring in some locker-room porno.

“You need somethin’, or you just come in here to watch?” Steve drawls, arching a brow at him, and yeah - there’s a lot of things Bucky needs all of a sudden.

He rakes an assessing gaze over Steve’s body, stepping into the shower and pressing his palms to the swell of Steve’s pecs.

“I just wanted to make sure your run went okay,” he shrugs, “no pulled tendons, shin splints...aching muscles…that kinda thing.”

He squeezes at Steve’s shoulders and his biceps and his tiny waist; threads his hands up through Steve’s hair and slots a thigh between Steve’s to push their hips together.

Steve’s skin is so warm, and slippery, and he smells like soap, and Bucky starts mentally calculating just how much time they have and how much energy he can feasibly expend before their respective work days start.

He’s not on stage tonight, but he is on shift for his day job at the community center, teaching a preschool ballet class at 10am, and then a seniors ballroom dancing session at midday before his contemporary classes in the afternoon. Steve’s working from home today, so hypothetically it wouldn’t matter if Bucky wore him out a little…

“Buck...”

“Mm?”

He rubs his whole self shamelessly against Steve, pressing in so the barbells spiked through his nipples drag across the wet expanse of Steve’s chest. He kisses Steve’s neck and his tits and his mouth, hungry and handsy and a little frantic, and Steve laughs softly against his lips as he turns them to push Bucky up against the slick tile of the shower wall.

“Your concern is deeply moving,” he deadpans, caging Bucky in with hands planted either side of his head, “but I think we need to talk about your bathroom etiquette...didn’t anybody ever teach you to knock?”

He’s staring Bucky down with eyes lit up something wicked; his body so very nearly touching Bucky’s but not quite, and it hits Bucky all over again that his boyfriend is, physically speaking...really fucking imposing.

It’s easy to forget, when he’s being...well, Steve. Perpetually polite, kind-hearted, goofy...Bucky feels like when he looks at Steve, he sees the softness of his nature, the quiet goodness that radiates out of him.

He sees the sensible shoes and the khaki pants, the careful artist hands and the way Steve still sometimes carries himself like the much-smaller man he claims to have once been.

He’s Stevie, and Bucky wouldn’t have him any other way.

But all of that also happens to be contained within a 6’2”, 200lb frame, and right now...Bucky kind of wants to suffocate under it.

“I am so sorry, Steven,” he says, though it’s entirely negated by the raging hard on he’s sporting and the giddy, gratuitous manner in which he’s still feeling Steve up.

He skates his fingertips down the rippled plain of Steve’s stomach, down to the trail of dusky blond hair leading south from his belly button, but Steve catches his hands and pins them up above his head.

“I’m sure you are,” Steve hums, “but I don’t think you appreciate the gravity of the situation here. See, you caught me in a very private moment, one that I was very much enjoying, and now I’m all thrown off. You got me feelin’ shy.”

...There’s some very compelling evidence to the contrary rubbing up against Bucky’s hip right now, but that’s beside the point. Steve’s teeth are scraping a line all the way down Bucky’s neck to nip at the ice fractals tattooed across his shoulder, and Bucky’s more than willing to play along.

“However can I make it up to you?”

He arches into the press of Steve’s body, the hard line of Steve’s cock nestled into the crease of his hip.

If Steve shifted just slightly, he’d be rubbing up against Bucky’s dick.

It’s not an accident that Steve isn’t making that shift.

“You really want to?” Steve kisses the question against his skin, making his way slowly back up to Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky nods vehemently.

He’s already wetting his lips in preparation for all the ‘making up’ they’re about to do; signalling his knees to get ready to bend and pulling at Steve’s grip on his wrists, but Steve doesn’t release him.

Instead, he pulls back just far enough to look Bucky square in the eye, and smiles entirely too sweet for the authoritative edge that rumbles into his voice. “Go back to bed, Bucky.”

Bucky has to blink a few times as the words circulate in his ears. His expression turns from I’m about to get some D! to oh god I’m being denied the D in about 0.2 seconds flat.

Bed is very far away from the dick that is currently in need of reparations, he can’t achieve anything from bed.

“But—you said—I was gonna—”

“Go. back. to bed.” Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s wrists and leans his whole weight against him, right up in his space so his lips catch against Bucky’s as he speaks, “...and wait for me.”

Oh.

A big, stupid, ‘bout-to-get-railed grin stretches across Bucky’s face. He wriggles free of Steve’s grasp and stumbles out of the shower, stopping himself just shy of a wildly enthusiastic ‘yes sir!’

He thinks he can hear Steve’s laughter as he takes off back down the hall toward the bedroom, but it might just be his own echoing back to him. He throws himself down onto the unmade bed, still warm from when he got up not ten minutes ago, and honestly who needs to sleep in anyway? Sleeping in is for people who don’t have absolute poundcake boyfriends to screw them into the sunrise.

He should have toweled off, he realizes as his damp skin rubs against the bedding, but he cannot be blamed for life choices made before six am, and there are far more important things afoot anyway.

Things like the sound of the shower turning back on for approximately forty-five seconds, then the muted pass of a towel being scrubbed over hair, and footsteps on the hardwood growing ever closer to the bedroom.

God, this is gonna be a good day. What a beautiful day to be greeting the dawn, making the most of his youth, seizing everything life throws at him!

He has the good sense to snatch the lube out of the bedside drawer just as Steve walks into the room, eyeing him with amusement and hunger in equal measures.

“You know what the problem is, with what just happened back there, Buck?”

Steve saunters toward the bed with all the nonchalance of a man whose work day doesn’t start for another three hours.

He wraps his sizable hands around Bucky’s ankles and yanks him down the bed a little - for no other purpose than to hear Bucky’s breath hitch at the unnecessary show of strength - and climbs up onto the mattress to straddle Bucky’s shins.

“The problem is, I don’t like to make a spectacle of myself.” He plucks the lube from Bucky’s hand and pours some into his own, spreading it over his cock in lazy pulls. “Being the center of attention, having eyes on me...that’s more your speed.”

“Mhmm, yes, I am an attention whore,” Bucky nods, reaching grabby hands out at Steve who refuses to shift any further up his body, “and you are humble and handsome and have a big dick. Make out with me.”

Steve tuts and shakes his head, reaching his unoccupied hand to flick at one of Bucky’s nipple piercings.

“Oh, I don’t think you get to make requests right now. See, the worst part of you throwin’ me off back there? I was so fucking close. So now what you get to do, James, is flip the fuck over, and let me finish what I started.”

...Jesus, Bucky loves Post-run Steve.

He’s gonna marry Post-run Steve and have his hopped up little post-run babies, and make sure Steve never misses a single day of early morning exercise so he can bask in the glory of this magnificent bastard every goddamn day of his life.

Bucky flops over onto his front and gets his knees under himself, sticking his ass up in the air with a wiggle that’s probably a lot more comical than it is enticing. But the heat of Steve’s palms hook around the front of his thighs and pull them out from under him, sprawling him flat against the mattress.

There’s a sudden clamping of teeth on his ass cheek and the sharp swat of an open palm, and then Bucky’s being pressed firmly into the sheets by Steve’s weight settling high up on the backs of his thighs.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Steve sighs, planting his hands on the dip in Bucky’s spine, “I’m gonna use your ass to get off, and then I’m going to get back into bed, while you go make us some coffee.”

Bucky nods into the mess of blankets under his cheek, futilely trying to rock his hips up against Steve’s considerable weight. “Yes, agreed, punishment fits the cri-hi wow okay.”

A wholly undignified sound is wrenched from Bucky’s chest as Steve skips all pretense of tease, and thrusts his slicked up cock into the crease of Bucky’s ass, rubbing off between his cheeks with a very singular purpose.

Bucky scrabbles to grab hold of his pillow and drags it down, wedging it under his hips with as much success as can be expected when you’re being pinned by a 200lb adrenaline-testosterone cocktail. It’s enough though, to very favorably cushion the rub of his dick, and all things considered…this whole thing is working out pretty well for him.

He’s expending precisely zero effort, but the wet glide of Steve’s cock over his hole and the push of Steve’s hips rubbing him into the pillow is very much Doing It for him, and he lets his body go loose and pliant as Steve does all the work for the both of them.

And Steve is putting in work - rocking Bucky into the mattress with a fervor that knocks the breath out of him and sends the headboard careening rhythmically into the wall.

“Y’hear that, Buck?” Steve pants, not for a second breaking his frankly devastating pace. “That’s what a fuckin’ knock sounds like.”

“Oh my god.”

This is exactly how every single day of Bucky’s life should begin. Naked, giddy, cocks enthusiastically rubbing up against holes, and Steve running his mouth like he won’t be turning ten shades of red about it later.

If this is the payoff, Bucky will bust in on every single shower Steve has for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” he laughs a little breathlessly into the bedding, biting off a moan at the heat coiling low in his belly.

It’s entirely sincere, and he says it because he means it...but if he also happens to know by now that those words are a direct hit to Steve’s prostate during sex?

That’s just a happy coincidence.

Steve makes a sound like he’s been punched, his thighs twitching and tensing where they’re clamped around Bucky’s hips.

His breaths are coming sharp and shallow, his movements taking on a frantic edge that betrays exactly how close he is, and Bucky would ask him to slow down, except he really, really doesn’t want him to.

“I love you, Stevie,” he says again, letting his own building climax bleed into his voice, “love you so much...come on, baby...”

“Fuck, Bucky, I...oh...”

His weight falls forward over Bucky as he comes, and it’s all the shove Bucky needs to tip over the edge with him.

He spills all over his pillow, burying a moan into the sheets and huffing under the weight of Steve’s body going lax on top of him.

“Oh my god, Buck,” Steve groans, vaguely awed like it wasn’t his own efforts that just brought them both to sticky ruin, and Bucky reaches a hand back to swat weakly at him.

“You said it, pal.”

Steve nuzzles into the crook of his neck, planting breathless kisses against his skin and running his hands over every part of Bucky he can reach.

It’s so tangible, that shift back to normalcy, back to Steve. It always hits Bucky square in the chest, the way he can feel Steve’s edges softening, feel that boisterous energy turn sweet and mellow in the aftermath.

It’s kind of precious, actually, though Bucky would never phrase it like that to Steve’s face.

He squirms beneath Steve’s weight, getting himself turned over until he’s on his back beneath him. “Good morning,” he smiles up at Steve softly, running his fingers through the still-damp tufts of his hair.

Steve sighs happily, letting his eyes drift shut and tilting his head into Bucky’s hand. “Good morning, pervert.”

“Hey, come on, you know I didn't do that on purpose! ” Bucky laughs, cupping Steve’s face and kissing him all over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes, though the smile on his face says Bucky’s doesn’t really have anything to be sorry about. “Guess I can forgive you this one time.”

“You’re a gracious man.”

Bucky drags him down and kisses him right on his smile, sweet and lazy. When they pull apart, Steve’s got that dopey look on his face like he’s feeling a whole lot of something, and Bucky knows exactly what’s coming before Steve says it.

“Glad you love me, Bucky Barnes.”

...He knew it was coming, but it still gets him every time.

“Glad to love you, Steve Rogers.” He feels like he’s glowing a little as he leans up to peck Steve on the tip of his nose. “Now if I’m not mistaken, I owe you a cup of coffee...you’re gonna have to let me up if you want me to follow through on that.”

“Mm, counter offer - we both go wash off, together, and then I’ll make us breakfast while you handle the coffee?”

Bucky pretends to consider for a second before he nods, stretching his body out as Steve rolls his weight off him.

“Agreed.” He waves a hand in the general direction of the door, shooting Steve a wink and a lopsided grin. “Lead the way, pal. I believe you are intimately familiar with where the shower is.”

#stucky fanfic #stucky au #steve/bucky #stripper!bucky #architect!steve #pwp #sexy shower antics #Post-run Steve can get it

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years

Text

On and Off

Taeyong x ballerina!reader // FLUFF, SMUT, angst? idol!au Summary: The first few months of being in a relationship with Taeyong was normal as it could be. Exchanging text massages, dates, phone call from evening until morning. But as you dive deeper into the relationship and months turned into years, you realised that normal will be something hard to achieve. Word Count: 5k Warnings: Protected and unprotected sex, cursing, mentions of other idols, loneliness, anxiety, pressure, Note: few notes again hihi -Inspired by my one and only keshi - onoffonoff please listen to his music its amazing I literally only listen to him these past few days. -This is another part/story of my life, so I could only hope no one steals my work. Because this is inspire by true events, except the pregnancy part. And the good ending, mine didn’t end well haha

It has been years since you kissed Taeyong for a stupid dare, not knowing who he is and not knowing he’s a famous idol in his country. You were clueless, simple as that. Little did you know that kiss will literally change your life. Was it luck or was it destiny that brought Taeyong in your life? After kissing him that night he stick to you like glue insisting to spend more time together and drink and dance the whole night.

One thing led to another, and Taeyong just keeps coming back to you and you welcome him with open arms. Thanks to Google, you learned a lot about Taeyong. All the basic stuff about who he is, what about him and finally being a fan of NCT. Its funny how dating Taeyong over the years made your life complicated and exciting at the same time. You figured, maybe it’s because you’re crazy with each other that’s why.

Ever since Taeyong came into your life your heart is half and half. The first half is for your first love which is dancing ballet and the other half is for someone extraordinary, Taeyong.

The first few months of being in a relationship with Taeyong was normal as it could be. Exchanging text massages, dates, phone call from evening until morning. But as you dive deeper into the relationship and months turned into years, you realised that normal will be something hard to achieve.

A lot of adjustments happened in order to continue being together. For you it’s understanding that Taeyong is someone important not just to you and his family but to a lot of people around the world. Helping him sort out his thoughts while writing lyrics and listening to whatever he says to you. Stay with him at the studio even if means burying yourself at the studio couch and binge watch Netflix while waiting for him to finish recording. For Taeyong, his love language is massaging your sore feet from ballet practice and picking you up every night after his work. Watching your performance giving his full support, emotionally and physically.

You’re each other’s number one fan.

OFF

During ballet practice today, your toes are already bleeding from hard work which something you don’t regret on doing. But the company was having an earful from the director tonight, never ending “do it again” and “from the top” everyone wanted to cry. Good thing Taeyong will pick you up after ballet practice, finally something to look forward to. Or so you thought.

It’s already 9pm, practice was dismissed half an hour ago and Taeyong still hasn’t come yet. The rain is pouring outside and your feet and toes needs to rest. You’ve left a dozen messages to Taeyong already but still, no answer. Before you decide on waiting a little more, his manager called you to tell you that Taeyong forgot to pick you up tonight and that he can’t leave anytime soon. You don’t have a choice but to take the subway and walk under the rain with your small umbrella. Your wet flats makes your bruises even worse, you feel the pain every step you make but the thing that’s even more painful is Taeyong didn’t picked you up when you needed him the most. You can only let out a string of curses here and there and cheer yourself to keep on walking.

When you finally got home you went straight to the bathroom limping and cleaned your bruises. Too tired to even stand up, you still have to make your shoes and sew a little bit for tomorrow’s practice. Still thinking about how heavy your day was, you sat in front of the mirror while sewing and waiting for Taeyong to come home.

After preparing everything you need for practice tomorrow, you head to the kitchen and made dinner for Taeyong. Maybe he’s hungry when he got home? A few minutes later, you heard the door beep. Taeyong startled you and hugged you from behind, you already sensed something is off. “Sorry about earlier” Of course you wanted to ask him but you didn’t want to pry, he looks exhausted as you are.

He kissed you good night on the forehead not even letting you to kiss him back as he walks towards your shared room and change. That’s it? He’s never like this and you wonder why, you reflect on the past days but all you can only recall are days full of laughter with him.

The morning after, you were at the kitchen making your green smoothy when the same arms from last night encircled to your waist. Familiar kisses landed to your cheeks and neck, “Good morning” Taeyong greeted you with a raspy voice, his chin rests on your neck. “I’m sorry about last night, I forgot to pick you up and… our come back has slow process, everyone doesn’t look good” you wanted to throw a fit and push him away but you know that Taeyong loves his work, and if he said that something is wrong, something is indeed wrong.

You turned around and hugged him back, giving him one big bear hug, “I’m not mad anymore. But, I have to go now I’ll be late-“ to your surprise he kneels in front of you completely pissed off because of your toes. “I think you should skip practice today - I can’t believe I let you go home alone last night with those feet” it’s not nice to see Taeyong so annoyed and pissed early in the morning. But you know you can’t skip practice today, “I’ll go home early if you can make it up to me today” it’s the only reasonable deal you could make, and you can only hope he’s up for it. “Will do” he kissed your lips, “I love you. I’m sorry, this will never happen again” you believe him.

And he did make it up to you. He made lunch and got an early out from working with his music. Not only did he cooked for the both of you but he cleaned the whole apartment which you thought wasn’t necessary. He made kimchi stew and kimchi fried rice, with a table full of laughter brought to you by your boyfriend and a bottle of wine from Johnny.

After eating lunch and cleaning up, you and Taeyong found yourselves in the middle of the bed tipsy and incredibly clingy with each other. “Wow you changed the bed sheets” you noticed and gave him a wink, “very gentleman of you” he giggled as he lay beside you.

The weather is gloomy like yesterday, but what happened yesterday seems to be erased already. The gloomy weather made the room blue, cold and comfortable. Taeyong’s arms are around you enjoying the warmth you share “I love days like this” he whispers, “You’re my escape from everything that’s happening in my life now. It’s like when you look inside my brain everything seems to be loud and out of order, but there you are calm and just being you” he sniffs your hair, pulled you closer and kissed you deeply as always. “Is this why you changed the sheets?” you playfully asked, he hovers on top of you slowly removing your shirt and tugging down your pyjama “Mhmm”

The cold weather and the low temperature of the air condition made you shiver both. Skin to skin, lips to lips and hands all over each other’s body. Taeyong is never rough with you when it comes to sex, it’s always passionate sex with him. But as gentle as he is during sex, he can’t get enough of you and one round isn’t enough for him. Sometimes you can only cry whenever he ask for you to cum one last time… after having seven already.

“How many rounds can you give me tonight?” Taeyong asks in between open mouth kisses, you noticed he’s hungrier than usual. Then you remembered, you haven’t had sex for the last three weeks for sure he’ll never go easy on you. You clear your throat before answering his question, “Five?” he scoffed. “How about ten? Five in my fingers and mouth and five more with my cock inside you and vibrator on your clit, hmm?” he spreads your legs without waiting for your answer, assuming that you’re fine with his plan already. “Hold my hand, squeeze it so I know I’m making you feel good okay?” you nod with a smile, you’re already turning red because of the building heat up on your body.

Holding both of his hands as he goes down to your sex, he licks your cunt slowly from the bottom to your clit. Making you moan softly and your legs quiver, “Tae-“ you sound like you’re out of breath as you chant his name over and over again. Squeezing his hand from time to time whenever he hits a good spot, spreading your legs even wider to make it feel good even more and grinding your hips to his tongue as he licks your cunt with a steady pace. “Ooh - Mmm, right there Taeyong yeah” you moan louder than earlier and you start breathing heavily. Closing your legs a bit and squeezing Taeyong in between your legs, you cum for the first time tonight.

Taeyong didn’t expect you’d cum so fast already “Still okay?” he asks as he crashes his lips on the valley of your breast all the way up to your lips, tasting a bit of yourself. You encircle your arms around him, keeping him closer to your body still weak from your first orgasm. “What, you want me to fuck you already?” he let out a sweet laugh before looking straight into your eyes. You nod.

As he rolls the condom to his cock, you’re quick to spread your legs for him. “Oh so now you’re spreading your legs for me after squeezing me earlier?” the vibrations of his giggle tickles you as he kiss you before lining his cock to your cunt. He didn’t stopped kissing you even when he’s already balls deep inside you.

“Tae let me breath” you asked of him. As you catch your breath for second, he rolled his hips a little which made you moan and roll your head back, “Sorry, I crave for you baby” he apologise with heavy breaths, hips still rolling slowly, cock stretching your cunt.

You encircle your arms around his neck pulling him closer again, “Come on Tae” you lick his lips, “I owe you nine more rounds” his pace changed a little bit faster, “Can I be rough tonight?” he grabbed you waist a little too harsh it surprised you. He gave you hard thrust that hurts so bad but it it feels good at the same time you arched your body and cum for the second time tonight. Taeyong was the first one to come down from his high and licks your nipples while cradling your arched body, watching you breath heavily and smile as you go down from your high. “Fuck Tae, I didn’t know you had it in you” he’s still licking and biting your boobs while waiting for your body to stop shivering like crazy. “Told you I crave for you tonight” and he slaps your ass and flips you on the mattress.

After that night, the following days were sweeter than ever and the sex became rougher, “no more vanilla sex” Taeyong says. Every night, you both look forward to seeing each other after a long day at work and finally releasing stress in bed together. You like to think that having rough sex every time made Taeyong even sweeter to you. Not that he’s not sweeter before, it’s just that now Taeyong is even more sweeter.

Last night when he’s in the middle of choking you while fucking you on the edge of the bed, he told you “You’re so beautiful, never leave me” and that damn made you blush you almost explode.

This morning, he wanted to skip work just to cuddle with you for the rest of the day. Even though he has multiple schedules today, he has studio work, dance practice and salon appointment. “Taeyong we could cuddle when you we get home” he whines and hovers his legs over yours, locking you in an embrace. “Five more minutes then, kiss me please” and you kissed his pout away.

The following night, he gave you a nice massage not just your feet this time, but your whole sore body. “Ugh baby, that feels good! Where did you learn all this” you mumble while you’re on your stomach, eyes closed and enjoying Taeyong’s massaging skills. “This is how they massage us whenever we have sore bodies during our concert tour” he answers, gliding his hands at your back putting a little bit of pressure.

OFF

One night, you came home from ballet practice really exhausted, tired and sore you can’t even move properly. You decided to sleep early and have a long rest but you forgot to tell Taeyong. Deep in your sleep already, you didn’t notice him when he arrived. Although you felt the bed move and you can smell Taeyong’s familiar scent, you didn’t quite catch what hes doing though. A few minutes later you felt a sting on your nipples only to find out that Taeyong is lapping on your boobs, your sleep wear rolled up to your neck.

“Baby - stop please you’re hurting me” Taeyong immediately stopped and rolled down your top, “I’m sorry - what’s wrong?” he came closer to you with a slight panic you.

“Please stop” your tone was a little bit angry but deep inside you’re not, you’re just tired. He didn’t say a word or do something after that.

Sometimes Taeyong can overthink too much. He’s a soft man on the inside so he can get really hurt with only a few words. He overthinks too much that he already thought you’re getting tired with him, that you don’t love him anymore. He wanted to wake you up and talk to you but he’s scared you’ll get mad like earlier.

Scared to have a fight with you or even a small argument, Taeyong always leaves for work just before you wake up. The come back is getting near and he’s been pouring all his time and energy to his schedules.

You: Taeyong, you left again without saying good bye? That’s not normal, are you okay?

All you can do is send him messages before he buries himself in dance practice and also trying to reach out through phone calls but it never last longer than three minutes. It’s been days since he’s not paying attention to you and you’re starting to think that asking for attention is inappropriate at a time like this.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you hugged him as he lay in bed beside you, tired and pissed because their manager is being a bitch during practice earlier. He doesn’t say a word to you. But you wanted to reach out and it seems like you both could need a talk.

“Tae-“ he cuts you off, even before you could even start.

“It’s not fair that you can get some rest whenever you demand it, I cant. I have an early schedule tomorrow. I’m tired, good night” and faces away to you.

That was the answer to all of your questions. He’s tired and you’re his greedy girlfriend who want his attention always. You constantly blame yourself why Taeyong is acting this way to you. Of course it’s a misunderstanding, but nonetheless it still hurts.

The both of you gone cold for a whole month, Taeyong needed to stay at the dorms and you’re left at the apartment alone. It’s not that the relationship was over and he left you alone, but that’s exactly what you feel. You’re lucky if you could get a phone call from Taeyong once a week but all you get is good morning and good night messages. It feels like your relationship with Taeyong became an imaginary relationship, like the one you used to have with Zac Efron during High School Musical.

Suddenly the apartment that you shared with him feels so big for you and you feel so lonely every night. He’s not your Taeyong anymore and this went on for almost three months, you couldn’t believe what’s happening. All you know is they’re promoting two albums back to back and that their schedules are jam-packed. You need to understand and adjust.

You have your own life you can’t stop living your life just because Taeyong is not with you at the moment. Theres an up coming audition for the main part of this year’s season, and you want to focus on perfecting your audition piece and give it your hundred percent. Which is much easier if Taeyong is here supporting you.

Asking for a breakup and moving out from the apartment is something that will not make the situation easier. So you decided to get on with your life for the mean time, and break up with Taeyong after his busy schedules.

After their two come backs which are both successful, Taeyong of coarse came back to your life. Although this time you’re the one preparing for something big now still, he tries to make it up to you. You on the other hand, is tired of being lonely and sad you just miss Taeyong’s touch and presence in your life. The break up plan was long gone the moment Taeyong showed up on the exact date of your auditions. You decided to give it another shot.

He waited for the auditions to finish and brought you a bouquet of flowers, he has dark blue hair now and you almost didn’t recognise him from afar. “Aw, Taeyong you didn’t have to” you hugged him and received the beautiful flowers, “It’s a congratulations and I’m sorry bouquet” he says shyly. You know exactly what he’s talking about. It feels so good to be coming home with him again, the apartment suddenly gain back it’s normal joyous vibe now that Taeyong is home.

Now that everything seems normal again, the bed is not cold anymore. You’re laying in bed between his legs, your back feels comfortable against his chest “I promise to never leave you again like that” you almost teared up because of what he just said but you’re tired of crying already. All you wanted to do now is be close to Taeyong, make up for lost time, and kiss him. So you did, you turned your back and faced him. Gave him a peck, just a peck and went back to your previous comfortable position.

“Really? Just a peck?” he tickled your sides until hes kneeling on the bed and you’re out of breath from laughing so hard, trying to make him stop by catching his hands. “Okay! Fine!” you’re both still giggling, “Few seconds, wait let me catch my breath first” he tickled you again but this time it’s your feet, you scream so loud and laughed so hard your tummy hurts.

The moment Taeyong stopped because he got tired, you came over to him and kissed him passionately. It felt like your first kiss with him, you’re sure fireworks were lit up the sky the moment your lips touched and your tongue swipes on his bottom lip. “Happy?” you whispered. He goes back to kissing you deeply as he answers no, I will never get enough of you. His lips go down to your covered breast from the layers of your shirt and bra, gently kneading them and hesitating to continue what he wants to do.

“What’s wrong?” you noticed somethings bothering him.

“The last time I removed your shirt, you got mad” he smiled awkwardly and stopped what he’s doing. Now you’re on his lap, needy and wet. He can’t do this to you, no, not tonight. You removed your shirt with a swift move and unclasping your bra throwing it somewhere. “Since when are you allowed to be shy around me, Taeyong? I’m yours remember?” you felt him nod and you felt his bright smile in between hungry kisses and removing each other’s clothes.

“Want to ride me tonight?” he slaps your ass while slowly laying you both back in bed and hovers on top of you.

“How many rounds do you want tonight?” you quickly made the switch to answer his question.

“As many you want” that’s new, you thought. He never made you in control before and you don’t know why you’re blushing in front of him right now. He giggles and put your hair away from your face, “What? Why are you blushing?”

You point around at his face and ruffled his hair, “this is not normal. What have you done to my Taeyong?” he tried to tickle your side again but you caught his hand and intertwined it with yours and put them on your lap making him behave.

“I just figured, I never let you do what you want when we have sex. I’m always the one tiring you and shit” he breaths in, and breaths out sharply, “Even in our relationship, I’m always the one making you sad and exhausting you-“ you kiss him before he says something that will make you cry and completely kill the vibe.

“How about we fuck without condoms tonight, hmm? You like that?” you suggest with a devilish grin, confident because you started taking pills.

“Wow- that would really -“ he can’t form his sentence well, “I am, huh - you sure about this? pull out?” you kissed him again made him grab your boobs, “pill” you grabbed his cock without warning and pumped it a few times, he let out a loud groan when he felt his head slowly pushing in your cunt. His rambling from earlier were replaced with loud moans and sharp gasps whenever you roll your hips a little faster.

“It feels like were having sex for the first time again, yeah?” you can only nod, busy from making Taeyong feel good beneath you and using his cock to go off.

The night became warmer for the both of you after sharing the experience of your first time having sex without a condom. Taeyong freaked out when he saw his cum drip from your cunt for the first time and it made him horny just minutes after he came inside you for the first time. “Let’s go another round babe” he asks so sweetly every after round you finish. His stamina always amazes you.

And for the first time after for so many months, you felt that his ‘i love yous’ are true and sincere. It feels like he’s saying it for the first time again.

“I love you and I’m sorry for leaving you”

“I love you, please let me in your life again”

“I love you, you’re the one for me”

“I love you please forgive me”

The next day, a text message woke you up really early. It’s the results of the audition from yesterday and sadly you didn’t get the part you auditioned for. The part you got was decent, but it hurt you knowing that you’re not enough for the part that you’ve wanting do ever since when you’re a little girl.

Your silent cry and muffled sobs woke up Taeyong up with a slight panic. “Fuck - are you hurt? Does anything hurt?” he thought you were crying because of last night. You shook your head and showed him the results.

Taeyong is quick to put you in his arms and comfort you. It’s everything you needed. “I want you to acknowledge your skills, you’ve gone so far and you did it by yourself take credit for that” he runs his delicate fingers through your sex hair from last night. “I’ll be with you all throughout the process. Please stop crying, I hate seeing you cry”

Of course Taeyong took care of you like you’re one of his members. Gave insightful comments every time you show him a video of you from practice. He gave out helpful criticism that made you want to push more and work even harder.

On days that you just need your boyfriend and you’re so tired from dancing, he will always sing for you and make you laugh until you feel better. He even showers with you whenever you’re too sore to even scrub your own body.

“Taeyong,” he hums while massaging your feet from the other side of the bath tub. “Thank you”

“What for?” he asked kissing your feet before taking the other one.

“I just want to thank you. I feel like I haven’t been thanking you enough for everything you’re doing for me” you’ve never felt so shy in front of Taeyong. He crawls in between your legs, giving your lips a quick peck and going back to his comfortable side.

“I’m your boyfriend, it’s my job to take care of your sexy ass” he tickled your feet and you let out a soft, “aw” because your muscles ache whenever you move too much. “I’m sorry, I forgot, I’ll get your towel” you laugh at how he panics.

OFF

The most awaited ballet season of the year is during Christmas and you’ve been working your ass off during ballet practice. Two months have passed during the preparation and in two weeks time the performance will take place. All you wanted to do is dance and be perfect. You’ve got thinner because of the company diet but somehow you felt weaker so you overthink and practice more.

Not to mention that you and Taeyong were fighting like crazy these past few days because he can’t get a hold of you. He thinks you’re overworking yourself and soon you’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t rest sooner or later. It’s not that he’s wrong, actually he’s right in so many things. But he can’t understand the pressure you’re in, your constant want to prove your company director that you have something special and that you’ve improved a lot.

“If you get hurt before the big day, that’s a bigger loss. Everyone from your company is taking a rest on weekends, I know because were on the same field. Baby please listen to me, rest and come to bed with me” Taeyong begs.

“You don’t understand what Im going through Taeyong because you’re perfect! You’re your company’s favorite idol how can you understand what I’m going through” you probably hurt him with all those words but you’re just angry, annoyed and frustrated all at the same time you couldn’t stop yourself.

“I just wanted take care of you, that’s all” and he leaves your studio without another word. You only got mad to yourself even more for being so harsh to Taeyong. Admitting that you’re wrong you weakly removed your shoes and contemplate for some time.

Later that night, you found Taeyong sleeping on the couch without any blanket and you can tell that he’s cold. You walked quietly to your shared room and grabbed the blanket that you two always share. Slowly and gently, you snuggle beside Taeyong on the couch laying comfotable beside him. His arms automatically pulled you in closer to him, you can’t believe the patience this man holds.

“You awake?” you whisper softly, trying to stop your tears from falling.

“I already forgive you” he already knew that you’re going to apologise.

“Then what are you here? Why didn’t you wait for me in bed?”

“Hmm. Well, theres a possibility that you will still sulk - Mmaybe you don’t like to sleep beside me tonight. Didn’t expect for you to come here actually” he softly explains, eyes still closed.

“You’re right I dont like to sleep beside you tonight” he opened his eyes, but you laughed the moment you saw how his face turned from soft to stern. “Oh your duality always amazes me” you boops his nose, “I’m just kidding. Come on lets come to bed-“ you were just about to stand up but he pulled you close again and kept you close.

“Lets sleep here for a change” he boops your nose and kissed you good night.

You woke up with a sore body because the couch wasn’t so comfortable for two people to sleep in for the whole night. It’s 8am already and you only got half an hour to get ready and head to practice.

When you came in late, you got additional three hour practice as your punishment today. Taeyong will surely get mad when you get home. Besides being late today, you also forgot to put on bandaids from the bruises you got from last night and now your feet will surely bleed.

At the end of the day, you’re right Taeyong did got mad because of the extra practice hours. You were so tired you didn’t even spare a word for him and head straight to your shared room to sleep. You didn’t even bother changing clothes and just closed your eyes and drifted.

Thankful that the next day is rest day, you woke up with clean clothes and tended bruises. He came in with a breakfast tray careful not to spill the coffee, “Good morning superstar” he kissed your temple and sat on his side of the bed.

“Before you say anything, I’m sorry” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, “You were tired last night and all I did was shout at you when it’s my fault in the first place” he kissed it again and you were speechless the whole time, “We will never fight again, I promise”

The most awaited performance was great, Taeyong watched with Doyoung and they both cried seeing you dance on stage. Your heart is filled with emotions and you feel so accomplished because all of your hard work payed off well. The director noticed your big improvements and promised to give you more opportunities on the next season.

After this year’s ballet season, everything went back to normal with Taeyong. No more fights, and more room to talk to each other. More love making and less rough sex. Do new things with Taeyong every month including understanding the world of kpop.

It has been years since you kissed Taeyong for a stupid dare, and you’re still crazy in love with him.

Now you’re sitting on the tub, enjoying the warm water while you wait for Taeyong to come join you. He came into the bathroom with his favorite scented candle already lit making the bathroom smell like apple and vanilla.

He turned off the bathroom lights before joining you, sitting behind you making you in between his long legs. He pulls you to lay on his chest and gently massage your fingers tired from working.

“What do you think about, Jade?” You feel the vibrations from his chest against your back when he answers you, “Not bad. But lets have other options” you hum longer than before, staring at the marble wall of your bathroom while drawing circles on Taeyong’s lap underwater. “Elie Ruby? We could call her Elie instead?” Your new suggestion made him laugh, and you smiled because he sounds so amused.

“Were not naming our baby after my dog. I love her but, my love for our baby is different” this time Taeyong is the one humming, wetting your hair and putting bubbles on top of your head. “How about I ask the boys tomorrow? Besides we don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy” You turned your back to face him with a smile.

“You’re finally going to tell them?” splashing some water out of of excitement.

“Yes. Now go back to your last position, I want you to relax” and so you did, still smiling like a fool you feel Taeyong caressing your tummy underwater humming a song you’re not familiar with. Maybe he wrote a song for the baby. That was fast, you’re only 2 weeks pregnant and Taeyong already has a song.

“Im sorry for not marrying you first” ah marriage, you thought. Since Taeyong is still in his prime for being an idol, you both planned not to get married yet even though you’re dying to say “I do” already.

You felt his hands creep up to your boobs his fingertips feels good against your nipples. “Close your eyes” he whispered and tingles spread across your body in an instant making your lips part and let out an involuntary moan.

Hearing just the sounds of his sweet kisses on your neck slowly travelling on your shoulders. What he’s doing now is indeed relaxing.

Still kissing your body, Taeyong whispers sweet promises that makes your heart at ease. “I will make you happy. Every second of the day” embracing you from behind, admiring how you fit perfectly between his legs. “Just have more patience baby. We will have a happy marriage”

You don’t know how exactly to react with everything he’s doing right now. Taeyong is providing you calm with his presence but making you horny with his hands around your body. When you finally opened your eyes, you turned your back facing him again. Now its your turn to kiss him and show him love.

While kissing him slowly with lust and adoration, you grab his hard cock underwater and stroke it up and down. Closing his eyes shut he pulls away from the kiss to let out a soft airy moan and relaxes his head on the cold marble wall. “Baby” he gulps, “Dont stop” taking this opportunity to kiss his exposed neck, you’re careful not to leave marks. His moans got louder when he said he’s near, and in a matter of seconds you see the tip of his cock underwater let out white fluids. “You’re always making me feel good, do you know that? I was really exhausted from practice today”

After washing up and having a proper bath, Taeyong was the one putting on lotion around your body. Spreading the Shea Butter scented lotion he gave to you and putting some on his body. Not bothering to put on some clothes, Taeyong brings you to your bed and kissed every inch of you. “Do you wanna have sex tonight?” He asked, lips all over your body and his fingers playing with your wet folds.

“Just make me cum then lets sleep. Were both tired from work baby. You need rest. Lots of rest” you heard him say a soft ‘okay’ before you feel his lips against your pussy. And without any warning, he insert a digit while he licks at your pussy from the bottom to your clit slowly. Making you close your legs but his freehand is quick to grab one of your leg and puts it right above his shoulders, giving him a better angle. Licking you in an animalistic pace, you cum on his face your pussy earning a good kiss from him. That made you smile.

When he finally lay beside you, you dried your juices on his face using a tissue from your bedside. “I thought you’re tired. That was good” you said still panting. He hums and you see his eyelids closing already. Yeah he’s tired. You pull up your soft covers making him comfortable hoping he will get a good night sleep.

After closing the lamp light and making yourself comfortable beside Taeyong, he murmurs a sweet “I love you and our angel” before pulling you closer to him and finally sleeping.

“We love you too.”

................................................. Masterlist

So as I’ve mentioned to my notes above, it’s inspire by true events. Yes I’m a dancer, at least I’m used to be. Not ballet though but I have knowledge about it. My ex is a dancer too, and basically we’ve been trying to make it work even though we both have busy schedules everyday. And that’s basically it, we’ve been on and off and off and on just like keshi said in the song, “when we stop, we never stop” idk for me that phrase spoke to me like how you wanted so bad to leave in a relationship but you can’t because you always find excuses to be with each other until eventually someone stops caring.

I’ve been thinking about on posting this though, because my recent Mark fic didn’t get any recognition at all... and its the first time thats happened so I wonder why.

Thank you for reading!

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potts89 · 3 years

Text

By @potts89 for @hold-our-destiny, written for the fourth @friendly-neighborhood-exchange.

Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts Summary:

“Honey,” Tony coaxed her, purposely not taking his eyes off the monitor in front of him. “What did I do?” “What do you mean what did you do?” “You’re giving me the look.” He could hear Pepper sighing but Tony simply assumed that she must have had a long, tiring day, that’s why. “Tony, when should I pencil you in to see Peter?” “See him for what?”

It started out as a run-of-the-mill, after school patrol... until Peter was reminded of a different alley, from a different time, but a very much familiar scenario.

Read it here (full fic under the cut) and on AO3.

“You’ve got the board meeting at four o’clock today, and Morgan’s ballet recital is at ten tomorrow morning and we’re supposed to meet Jim for lunch afterwards.”

Pepper went through Tony’s schedule as she waltzed into his workshop that afternoon, the measured clicking of her heels somewhat making him nostalgic for those days back when she was still his personal assistant and she would always harangue him about his meetings. He smiled distractedly at the thought that his wife and CEO, even after over a decade and a half, still refused to delegate his schedule to someone else. Not that he was complaining (because, really, he much preferred it this way), because Pepper, Tony knew, happened to be very hands-on after all. That and the fact that she probably knew that, except for Morgan, no one else could pry Tony away from whatever new project he was currently obsessing on. So it made sense that if Pepper wanted him to actually adhere to his schedule, she really should take the reins herself.

Tony threw a cursory glance at his monitor just to check the time, because Pepper was standing in front of him with her arms crossed in front of her chest, impatiently waiting for him to say or do something.

He noted that he still had about an hour to wash up, get dressed, and take the elevators to the conference room which was just twenty floors down, so unless he forgot their wedding anniversary (which, to his credit, had never happened), Pepper shouldn’t be giving him that ‘Drop whatever it is you’re doing right now,’ look.

“Honey,” Tony coaxed her, purposely not taking his eyes off the monitor in front of him. “What did I do?”

“What do you mean what did you do?”

“You’re giving me the look.”

He could hear Pepper sighing but Tony simply assumed that she must have had a long, tiring day, that’s why.

“Tony, when should I pencil you in to see Peter?”

“See him for what?”

Ever since he got the kid back, Tony had been consciously trying to keep some distance. Sure, not a day went by that he didn’t worry about Peter – the anxiety over something happening, again, that could take the kid away from him, again, never truly completely disappeared – but he didn’t want to suffocate the boy either. So as much as Tony wanted to be a helicopter doting (pseudo-) parent, he kept his distance. He no longer required daily patrol reports, he disabled the Baby Monitor Protocol (at Peter’s request and much to his disapproval, although they did reach a compromise that Karen would automatically ping FRIDAY should Peter be fatally injured (they had a long discussion on what Tony actually meant with fatal afterwards)), and he didn’t mess with Peter’s patrolling unless the kid specifically asked for his help and advice.

The adjustments were difficult, but Tony knew that he wouldn’t be around to hold the boy’s hand forever so he endured the changes. Plus, Peter seemed to appreciate this new sense of responsibility and independence, and Tony could only imagine that this was probably what it would feel like when the kid would finally leave for college at MIT.

God, he could feel the separation anxiety already.

“Michelle called…” Pepper trailed off and Tony would later on realize that he really should’ve noted the worry in his wife’s tone. “Something happened during his patrol.”

That surely caught Tony’s attention. He quickly glanced up at Pepper while the screwdriver he had been working with clattered to the floor.

“Is he—”

“He’s not hurt… physically.”

“Right, of course. FRIDAY would’ve alerted me if that’s the case.” He breathed a sigh of relief, but that relief was short-lived when he finally actually noticed the frown creasing Pepper’s features. “Wait, Michelle called? Where’s the kid?”

“He was on patrol. He tried to stop a mugging incident but by the time he got at the scene, a young boy’s father was already shot and—”

“He’s been blaming himself for it,” Tony finished for her and he knew just exactly what’s going on in Peter’s head right now.

Pepper reached for the rug that was lying on his worktable before walking up to him and giving it to him to wipe the grease off of his hands. “Michelle has been trying to convince him otherwise. Now I’m telling you this because Peter knows that Michelle’s the one person who will comfort him no matter what—”

“Which means he won’t believe it when she says it wasn’t his fault.”

Pepper nodded while Tony sighed tiredly, hating the fact that Peter seemed to have picked up on his own tendency for self-reproach. He handed the rug back to Pepper who seemed pleased that her husband appeared to be finally on the same page as she.

“Pep, honey, how important is today’s board meeting?” he asked, even if he knew that Pepper wouldn’t keep him anyway.

“Well, R&D is presenting that tech that you wanted the patent on.”

“Tell them I’ll have to reschedule.”

She smiled at him, a knowing smile that he had gotten so familiar with and so thankful for over the years. “I already did.”

He really did marry the perfect woman, didn’t he?

“You’re the best,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her and it did amuse him to note that she didn’t make a comment on how the grease would most likely get on her own clothes. He kissed her, deeply though hurriedly. “I love you.”

“Go and be a good dad. I love you, too.”

---- --- ----

“I thought we already agreed that you’d disable the tracker in my suit,” Peter muttered without glancing, long before Tony could even announce his arrival thanks to that thing he really didn’t like to call ‘Peter tingle.’

He had been sitting there alone all afternoon, deep in a quiet, one-way conversation with the headstone in front on him which bore the name of the uncle that pretty much raised him as his own. The same uncle who, up to this day, Peter still felt guilty and responsible for.

To say that Peter was having a terrible day was definitely an understatement. It started out like any normal afternoon – he nailed that physics test, he listened (enraptured) while MJ discussed the women’s suffrage in great detail over lunch, and he swung by Stark Tower to drop a new toy for Morgan sometime after class – there was nothing out of the ordinary, at least until a few minutes into his patrol.

He was swinging by some of his usual hunts in the city when his hyper-keen senses caught the scream of a young boy just a few blocks away. Peter rushed to the scene without second thought, but what he initially anticipated as a run-of-the-mill mugging incident in one of New York’s quiet alleys turned out to strike too close to home.

Peter just stood there, unmoving, rooted to the spot as the bandit fled the scene of the crime leaving behind a young boy quite possibly no older than nine, a man in his mid-forties lying on the pavement and possibly bleeding to death, and Peter who seemed to have been transported back to a different alley, from a different time, but in a very much familiar scenario.

Peter felt numb, so much so that for a while there, he completely believed that he was watching a younger version of himself, helplessly crouching over the bleeding man, while the police and ambulance sirens sounded nearer and nearer and nearer…

“What happened here?” one of the EMTs shouted but Peter was too stunned and completely trapped in his own head that he was practically the most useless person on the site. “Spider-Man?” the EMT prodded but Peter was too out of it (or maybe, too into it) that he barely registered the question at all.

Everything was a blur afterwards. He barely recalled the EMTs loading the victim and the young boy into the ambulance, he was quite unaware of the many people looking his way wondering why Spider-Man was standing there, motionless in an alley. He barely recalled clutching his phone to his ear and hearing MJ’s confused and worried voice as he muttered “It’s my fault,” over and over and over again.

He couldn’t even exactly remember how he managed to end up in this place, or how long he had been sitting there on the ground apologizing to the indifferent headstone that offered him neither forgiveness nor reassurance.

For hours (he wasn’t really sure if it had been hours, but it certainly felt that way to him), he kept having those dreaded flashbacks in his head… The image of the boy crouching over his father’s body merging and morphing into looking more like Peter, while he himself applied pressure on the man’s wounds with his bare hands, the same man who was beginning to look more and more like his—

“I did disable your suit’s tracker, but I didn’t exactly need one to know where to find you.” Tony’s voice was grounding, pulling him back to the present… to what was real, to what was happening.

“How did you know I’d be here?” Peter asked, not really knowing what was the point in asking. Still, he avoided Tony’s gaze, choosing to focus his eyes instead on the headstone in front of him even as the older man took a seat beside him. “You didn’t need to come and pick me up, I was heading back anyway—”

“Of course I know you’d be here, you give me so little credit, kid.” Peter felt that gentle, reassuring pat on his shoulder and the gesture alone was enough to break what little composure he had left. “And I also know that I didn’t need to come, but I wanted to.”

He didn’t really know what to say to that, not out of shyness nor awkwardness because he and Tony were definitely past that point by now, but more because he was once again reminded that Tony actually cared… that the man was in his corner and would always be, come hell or high water.

Even after all these years, Peter still couldn’t wrap his head around that idea, that he actually had someone, that he wasn’t truly completely alone.

“Alright, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?”

“Who says there’s anything on my mind?” Peter deflected, easily picking up on Tony’s usual modus operandi when confronted with something that he wasn’t really keen about discussing. Peter learned from the master, after all.

“There’s always something on your mind,” Tony’s tone was patient with a hint of chiding, and Peter wanted to stop himself from thinking that the tone was almost paternal. “The only time it doesn’t pop right out of your mouth is when you’re not sure you should say it… that and when you were still trying to tell MJ that you actually like her. So?”

“I’m fine,” Peter mumbled, but he knew it would be pretty naïve of him if he were to believe that Tony would actually let him get away with not talking about it. Still, he could try, right?

He almost did believe that Tony had decided to drop the issue because the palpable silence stretched between them, with Peter not really wanting to relive the afternoon and with Tony probably waiting for that conversation opening that Peter would be absolutely unwilling to give to him. Still, Tony, Peter knew, was nothing if not persistent.

“Pete, you can’t save everybody.”

It was said so simply, so fatherly even, that Peter could really do very little to stop the dam from finally breaking. He knew that Tony knew that he never really felt comfortable talking about his uncle, and Peter was actually thankful that Tony had opted not to pursue the topic directly at least.

Still the thought didn’t do much to alleviate Peter’s guilt from what happened that afternoon. He kept thinking that if he had only been a bit faster, a little braver, a bit tougher… if he hadn’t let the ghost of his past failure haunt him at such a very crucial moment…

Peter cringed at the possibility that another kid could be orphaned by now all because he got scared and stunned, exactly like the boy he once was the last time he actually saw his uncle breathing and living…

“Kid, it’s not your fault. We try and we try but we can’t save them all.”

“But you did, and granted that it cost you a lot,” Peter paused, his red-rimmed eyes quickly darting towards Tony’s prosthetic arm, making him feel so small and unsure and inept. “But you did… you did save us all.”

“I didn’t, kid.”

“No, you actually did—”

“I didn’t, kid, at least not during the first time. Else, I would not have spent a lot of nights imagining, dreaming that I saved you in Titan. Because every night before I go to sleep, in the last five years I keep thinking about the things I could have done differently… Kid, every night I save you, in my head and in my dreams. But when it mattered the most, when it actually counted, I failed. I didn't save you.”

“No, Mr. Stark... Because when it mattered the most, you brought me back.”

Peter didn’t really know what else to say other than that, but he hoped that it was enough for now. He was, after all, very much aware that no matter how immensely grateful he truly was, his thanks wouldn’t even begin to give justice to what Tony had to do, had to gamble with, just to get him (and the others) back.

To tell the truth, he would have dwelled on the thought, on the more appropriate thing to say, but his mind was basically elsewhere at the moment and he blurted out his worries before he could even stop himself.

“I just… I froze earlier because I know what it’s like to be orphaned young, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Touché.”

“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean…”

He glanced at Tony but there was nothing but understanding in his old man’s eyes, the memory of his own loss clearly still as saddening but time had clearly played a factor in healing past wounds.

“I know what you mean, kid, more than anyone, really. I was twenty one then, technically already an adult, but I was very far from being one.”

“It’s just, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy… And to think that I could’ve done something earlier today had I been faster, stronger, braver…” Peter trailed off, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat as he thought back to his own parents and his uncle. “I know what it’s like to be alone, to be on your own… It was difficult, it still is.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

Peter furrowed his brows at the way that Tony’s voice broke. “Sorry for what?”

“I try so hard… so hard to make you feel that you have someone, that you’re no longer alone, that you’re not an orphan, at least not anymore. And I really thought that giving you some independence was what you wanted, but I guess I wasn’t doing enough if you still feel that—”

“But you are,” he cut in, only realizing in that moment that he had inadvertently made Tony feel inadequate, when the truth was Peter actually felt so indebted to him. Peter knew that he owed him his life, so much so that he actually felt shy being around the man, especially whenever he would see Tony’s prosthetic arm because if not for him…

“You’re doing more than enough,” Peter assured him, wanting to tell him that he actually filled that paternal void just exactly when Peter needed him the most. “Mr. Stark, you’re like the—”

Peter caught himself, stopping before he could even say anything more… because doing so would be impolite, would be imposing, would be asking for too much.

“I’m like what?”

You’re like the father I wish I had.

Peter bit his lip as he tried to grapple not necessarily with the right words but with more appropriate ones, less assuming ones, because he was still so uncertain about his place in Tony’s family. Never mind the fact that Pepper would regularly set a place for him on the dinner table and Morgan would ask him to read her bedtime stories and Tony kept calling him kid but…

He didn’t feel worthy.

Because if he couldn’t protect them in the end just like the way that he failed with his own uncle, he would never be worthy. If he couldn’t keep that kid’s father from earlier that afternoon safe, how would he be able to keep this family safe?

You’re like the father I wish I had.

“You’re my mentor, Mr. Stark,” was what Peter settled for in the end. “And I’m very lucky because you’re doing more than enough for me.”

“Well, that’s disappointing,” Tony smirked at him when Peter threw a sidelong glance in his direction, the obvious chagrin in his voice making Peter curious about his remark. “Because I thought you were going to say that I’m like a father to you, but mentor’s fine, I guess. I’ll take it.”

Peter gazed at him, his brown eyes so full of wonder while Tony simply grinned in that patented smile he usually reserved for the adoring public.

“So let me get this straight. You see me as a son-figure?” Peter asked, forgetting all about his earlier reservations.

“Well, Morgan did tell her teachers that she has an older brother so—”

“That’s Morgan. How about you, though?”

“—and Pepper’s still about twelve percent convinced that you really are my secret lovechild from back in my playboy days—”

“Would it kill you so much to say it out loud?”

Tony laughed and Peter honestly thought that it would probably be better if the ground simply swallowed him up at that point. This was just so embarrassing but he figured that his need for affirmation outweighed his sense of shame, at least in that moment.

“You’re my kid, okay?” Tony reached out to put an arm around his shoulder and somehow, Peter felt lighter, safer, in spite of the day’s events. “Mine and Pepper’s, Morgan’s brother. You’re family, Pete. You always have been. Why do you think you have a room at the Tower and at the lake house?”

“I just thought they’re guest rooms,” he mumbled quietly, eyes downcast because he could feel the tears now streaming down his face.

“Those rooms have photos of you with Morgan, and Star Wars memorabilia, and clothes and shoes in your size. Guest rooms can’t be that specific.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“And it’s not your fault. What happened today and what happened with your uncle, it was never your fault, Pete. You’re just a kid.”

Peter couldn’t help but wipe his eyes with the back of his hand while Tony pulled him into a tighter side-hug. He wished he could tell Tony thank you, but he was quite sure that words would betray him at this point. He honestly didn’t know what happened back there at the alley – he had, after all, been to space and fought his fair share of nemeses – but the familiarity of the situation caught him off-guard, hitting too close to home and trapping him in his own mind and with his own memories.

Peter realized that maybe it was because he had not really forgiven himself… for what happened with his own uncle and for Tony having to make a sacrifice. But if Tony never really blamed him, then…

“Pepper asked me to tell you that the boy’s father is now out of the woods and that he will make a full recovery,” Tony told him after some time, reading the message Pepper must have sent him on his phone. “And that she’s expecting you at dinner tonight, at the tower.”

Peter furrowed his brows, frowning in confusion as he did so. “How did she know about…”

“Who do you think Michelle called?”

“Of course.”

“So let’s go? Home?” Tony stood up, tossing him the keys to the Audi. “You drive. Slowly. I’m gonna guide you, but drive slowly.”

Peter couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t feel alone anymore. After all, he never really was, and he never really would be.

He grinned just as he started the engine, the way that Tony gripped the edge of his seat was not lost on Peter at all.

“You know, Mr. Stark, I think as long as I drive slower than you do, we’ll be fine.”

“Pete, driving slower than me doesn’t automatically mean that you’re driving within the speed limit.”

“I merely said—”

“Just drive. Slowly.” Tony cut in, sighing as he closed his eyes beneath the tinted glasses he was sporting. “Before I change my mind.”

Peter smiled, stepping on the gas and speeding off, within limits, of course.

***

#The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange #peter parker #pepper potts #tony stark #irondad #spider son #Peter Parker is having a bad day

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undertaker1827 · 4 years

Note

May I request headcannons for Sebastian and Undertaker with a girlfriend who is a ballerina, and has trained for hours every day since she was small? She's bery reserved, but she likes to play with their hair when she's bored. -💜

Of course you can!! Sorry these took so long, also sorry Sebastian’s one is shorter I got kind of stuck for ideas. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Undertaker

Dancing is something Undertaker has always really enjoyed (he’s often greatly underestimated, but he’s actually really great at it), but ballet was never something he tried

He likes your classic waltz, foxtrot, a bit of tango would never go amiss either (also I have a personal hc that he likes/is really good at English country dancing) but while all of these disciplines are fascinating to watch, he finds a ballet absolutely tantalizing

How controlled and precise all of the movements have to be, how the entire body seems to move as one

And the dedication you have to have been training for so long!! He’s really impressed

I feel like if you were reserved when you first met him, you would gradually loose that trait a bit

Around him at least, even if not with anyone else

I mean he’s loud and outrageous with no sense of calm most of the time, so I think you would pick that up a bit too after spending a lot of time with him

But yanno, not to the degree that he does it

His hair

His hair is awesome

I feel like it would be really thick to run your hands through and well looked after not that he would admit it and silky smooth

Also there’s so much of it, it would literally go everywhere

If you’re sitting on the sofa together, either watching a film or just talking in general, his hair will sort of floof over in your direction

You gently catch a strand in your fingertips and absentmindedly twirl it around

If Undertaker was going to move his hair out of the way because he thought it was annoying you, he certainly won’t now

He watches as you go back to whatever you were doing previously but now whilst playing with his hair

Wonders if you even realise you’re doing it

He won’t comment on it in case you get shy and stop, but it does make him smile

Given your reserved personality (though Undertaker is certainly working on that) he usually starts any contact - surprise hugs, kisses etc - so he’s really happy that you’re doing it

Maybe you’re both reading at a different point, then you put your book down and start fiddling with his hair again

He grins, but when it turns out you’re braiding it!! Other than the single one he always wears, he hasn’t braided his hair in decades, and he certainly hasn’t had anyone else do it for even longer

He silently drops a few bands over his shoulder onto your lap, gaze not leaving the page he’s on

You’ve created an absolutely beautiful masterpiece when you’re finished and the mortician vows to keep it in as long as possible

He gives you a warm bear hug in thanks and laughs a little when you hide your face in his shoulder, a hand placed gently over the other one

He repeatedly tells you how much he loves his new hair, all but distraught when they finally fall apart so badly (like a week later) that he has to take them out entirely

Offer to do them again and he will love you forever

I mean he did anyway, but now he loves you even more

If you do ballet performances on stage, he tries to be there for every single one

If it’s the same show repeated several nights in a row, you insist that he’s already seen it twice, he really doesn’t need to go again, you know he’ll be supporting you from home

He goes anyway

He just loves watching you dance

If you don’t perform, he asks to watch you practice

He thinks you’re perfect, but if you make a mistake or are too harsh on yourself, he’s always there to comfort you and stop any negative thoughts

“I just can’t do it!” - “You’ll be able to, love.” - “But I-” - “and besides, it already looks perfect to me, which means it does to everyone else as well.”

He won’t hear anymore of it

He’ll often jokingly ask you to ‘give me a twirl’ at random times around the house, without shoes or anything, just for fun

He might catch you halfway through and spin you around him, maybe even do a lift if you’re comfortable with that

Overall he thinks you’re an amazing dancer and always encourages you towards your goals, whatever they may be

Sebastian

Sebastian, being one hell of a butler, can probably also ballet dance. But he, like Undertaker, is very impressed that you have been training for such a long time

I mean that takes a lot of dedication, especially for a human

If you’re having trouble with any particular movements, he’ll be able to help you (if you want him to)

I don’t think he would go full out ‘tutor’ mode, more like casual tips and advice

He’d probably show you the correct stance etc as an example for you to follow

If you need music to dance to, he is absolutely the right demon for the job

Literally, pick an instrument and he’ll be able to play just about anything you can imagine

You don’t really know where he got them all from, but here they are and yes that was the exact piece you needed how did he know

He can’t help but find the fact that you play with his hair quite endearing

Obviously his hair is quite short so he’ll subtly move over when you start doing it so you don’t have to stretch too far

He doesn’t mind it at all, in fact he finds it quite relaxing

He might play around a bit with your hair in return sometimes, maybe braiding it if it’s long enough

Sebastian sometimes asks to practice with you, he finds it a nice change from other traditions like ballroom dancing

If he’s not with you during your training, he will come and see you after you finish

He has a habit of appearing with your favourite drink and snack

Is always full of questions - “How did you fare during today’s training?” “Did you improve on [something you’ve been having trouble with]?”

But always finishes with “Are you pleased with how it went?”

He makes sure you don’t push yourself too hard, knowing how much you want to continue improving

He also makes certain you know how well you are already doing and reminds you how far you’ve come from when you started if you ever feel a bit down or despondent about it

Like I said earlier, he’s more than happy to help you if you need it, adjusting your position just a little until everything is perfect and making your favourite dish to celebrate a good day’s work

He knows how hard you work so he’s certainly keeping a close eye on you - he quickly notices if you look more tired than usual, asking if you stayed up late to carry on training alone

Definitely won’t let you sacrifice sleep or anything else that might affect your health

If you’re absolutely insistent that you need to do something to improve, he recommends and finds you a few books - training guides, journals, etc - to either increase/check your general knowledge of your dancing, or to give you guidance and tips

He tells you to read those if it’s getting late and you suddenly feel like you should be dancing

Of course if that’s not a problem you suffer from, so much the better! He’s still going to give you the books and suggest you read them (but don’t use that as a reason to not sleep either!)

If you perform, he’s seen all of your shows at least once, if you compete, he’s always there to congratulate you (especially if you’re not so happy with how the results turned out)

#black butler #undertaker #adrian crevan #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #black butler x reader #adrian crevan x reader #kuroshitsuji undertaker x reader #kuroshitsuji sebastian x reader #kuroshitsuji undertaker #kuroshitsuji sebastian #kuroshitsuji x reader #black butler sebastian #undertaker black butler #black butler undertaker x reader #black butler sebastian x reader #sebastian #sebastian michaelis x reader #undertaker x reader

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excitedlysuffering · 4 years

Text

When You Can Sing/Dance

Just a random I thought of, hope you enjoy!

(s/n)= Song name (b/n)= Brother name

Masterlist

Naruto (Singing)~

Your hips swayed back and forth as you sang quietly to yourself. You were washing the dishes from the dinner you and Naruto had shared, while he set up the pillow fort and board games. As you really got into your song, (s/n), your volume began to increase.

Soon you had finished, but you twirled around the kitchen as the melody carried all through your house. Just as you reached up to put the last dish onto the shelf, you felt arms wrap around your torso.

“You never told me you could sing, baby.” A voice breathed into your ear. You shrieked, embarrassed at having been caught. “Naruto! Um… how’s the fort?” He laughed, spinning you around. “Don’t change the subject, (Y/N), you have a beautiful voice.” You couldn’t help your blush, so you hid your face in his shoulder.

“Thanks, Naru. Did you finish the fort?” He nodded eagerly, dragging you to the living room. “Yeah! It takes up the whole living room, and I added a mini snack bar, the games, and some blankets and pillows to lay on!”

You kissed his cheek before excitedly climbing in. “It’s perfect! What do you want to do first?” The blonde smirked, tackling you onto a pillow, causing you to laugh. “You should sing to me! Pleaseee...” He pleaded.

As much as you wanted to refuse, he was the king of puppy dog eyes. The second his cerulean orbs met yours, you knew you’d be singing to him for a while. “Alright, alright, what do you want to hear?” He shrugged, laying his head in your lap.

“I don’t care, as long as you’re the one singing.” Your blush came back in full force as you ran your hands through his blonde locks.

“Okay, I’ll sing (s/n)...” You started the song Naruto had caught you singing in the kitchen. Your voice carried all through your fort, but your attention was only on your boyfriend, who’s eyes were closed as he listened to you.

You lost track of how songs you went through before realizing he was snoring quietly. You couldn’t help but smile, studying him in order to remember this moment forever.

Sasuke (Dancing/Hip Hop)~

Really he hadn’t meant to barge in on you. He heard a series of loud thuds and all he could think of was you being hurt. What he didn’t expect to see, however, was you in the middle of your living room, all your furniture moved. You were dressed in spandex and a tank top, hair swaying, hips sashaying, and your body completing all types of complicated moves in rapid succession.

He could only watch, shocked into absolute silence. What had happened to his usually calm, softspoken girlfriend? Sasuke, as surprised as he was, couldn’t complain. You looked like some sort of divine goddess and he was mesmerized.

He had no idea how long he stood there captivated as you danced in your room, oblivious to his presence. When your song and routine finished, you looked towards the door, your face instantly going red. Leaning against the threshold was your boyfriend, not at all looking suave and unbothered as usual. Sasuke looked quite the opposite actually. His jaw was slack and his eyes wide.

“Hey… how long have you been standing there?” He took three long strides towards you, a smirk forming on his lips. “Long enough to know that you should be doing that more often.” You covered your face, trying to hide your cheeks. You groaned as the Uchiha wrapped his arms around you, laughing quietly.

“Don’t be like that, kitten, that was amazing. You have a real talent.” You looked up, practically glowing at the praise. “Really?” He nodded, smiling softly. “Really. If I’d known you were such a great dancer, I would’ve been flaunting you around already.”

You giggled, knowing he wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest. You could just imagine Sasuke yelling at a random person who was dancing and just shoving you forward and saying, “My girl is a better dancer than you!”. It was a funny thought, and you giggled a little.

“Well, maybe when I perfect this routine I can show you.” He grinned, ruffling your hair a bit. “From what I’ve seen, you’ve already perfected this, so there’s no reason to wait.” You laughed at his eagerness and pushed him out the door. “See you later, babe!” He protested as you closed the door, laughing.

Shikamaru (Singing)~

Your mom had asked you last second to watch your little brother, (b/n), last-second when his typical babysitter had to cancel. Rather than cut your date short, Shikamaru had agreed to help you out.

“SHIKAMARU!” The hyperactive five-year old ran towards you both as soon as the door opened. His small arms wrapped around Shikamaru’s legs in a hug. You sweatdropped as he totally ignored your existence. “Hey, buddy! You excited to hang out?” Shikamaru asked picking him up.

“Yes! I haven’t seen you in forever!” You giggled at the sight. Your two favorite boys got along so well, and it made your heart swell.

“Hey, (b/n)!” He waved half-heartedly as Shika walked down the hall. “Oh, hey, (Y/N).” Your jaw dropped at the mediocre greeting. You shrugged it off as you took your shoes off and followed them into the living room.

“So what do you want to do first?” Shika asked the excited child who had his legs wrapped around your boyfriend’s neck and was hanging upside down. “Let’s play Candyland! I just got it and it’s so fun!”

That is how you found yourself locked in a very competitive game with (b/n) and Shikamaru. The boys complained, your brother even sounding like Shika when he said this was a ‘drag’ when you won. You just laughed while your boyfriend looked like a proud parent.

You looked at the time sighing in relief when you saw the time. It was almost three o’clock, the time for your brother’s daily nap. As much as you loved (b/n), he was a ball of boundless energy and he was exhausting. Especially when you had just finished your sixteenth straight game of Candyland.

“Hey, look at the time. Looks like it’s time for someone’s nap…” (B/n) groaned but, stood up obediently and yawned. “Shika will you tuck me in?” He looked uncharacteristically excited to comply with his request. You didn’t mind not being asked, you would prefer the tucking in tradition to remain a secret.

“(Y/N/N), aren’t you coming?” You internally panicked at the sight of your brother pouting. “O-of course I’m coming!” You jumped up, hurriedly guiding him to his room, trying to ignore Shika’s amused expression.

Per (b/n)’s request, you had no choice but to sing his favorite lullaby, the same one you sang him every day. As you quietly sang the words, lulling him to sleep, Shika’s eyes widened beside you. In minutes he was asleep, and you sighed in relief, ready to have this moment over with. The second you were out of the room you were in Shikamaru’s arms, his face one of awe.

“That was beautiful, (Y/N)... why haven’t you told me you could sing?” You shrugged, laughing quietly as to not wake the sleeping child. “You never asked, Shika.” He rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Troublesome woman. Well, now I know and I want to hear more.”

Neji (Dancing/Ballet)~

Neji had always been prone to just walking into your house unannounced and uninvited. It wasn’t that you necessarily minded, it was just that you had no idea how he did it. Your door was never unlocked, but he just waltzed like it was.

Today was one of those days, but this time you weren’t there to screech at the sudden sight of your boyfriend. He frowned and looked around your home. As he wandered around, his ears picked up the sound of piano music. He traced to the one room in your house he had never seen.

He silently opened the door, not knowing what to expect. Even though he was usually pretty even-tempered, he couldn’t help but be flabbergasted at the sight of the room. It was clearly a ballet studio, and you were in the middle, in a black leotard and ballet slippers.

He had seen you fight and knew how agile, graceful, and light on your feet you were, but now it all made sense. The way you effortlessly spun and twirled and leaped…

He was utterly and completely entranced by you. He could tell you’d been doing ballet for years by your skill level. Something about seeing you doing something so… beautiful and precise made him fall a little more in love with you the longer he watched.

“(Y/N)... you’re amazing.” You froze, midturn at the voice. “Neji? What are- what are you doing here?” He couldn’t stifle his large smile, as he grasped your hands in his own. “Well, I came to see you, but I wasn’t expecting this. You have so much talent, Angel!”

You grinned pecking his lips. “Thank you, Neji… I took it up as a hobby when I was little, but it’s actually increased my skills as a shinobi so I kept it up.”

He chuckled breathlessly. “I’ll say. I’m glad I chose to come over when I did.” You laughed as you realized he probably broke in again. “Me too. Although, I really want to know how you get in!” He shrugged smirking as he let you go.

“If you show me your routine, I’ll tell you exactly how I do it.” You grinned, nodding ecstatically. “You’re on!”

You mentally cheered as you started the song over, excited to show Neji this part of you, and find out his secret.

Kiba (Singing)~

The second you had learned that Kiba was sick with a terrible fever, you had rushed over bags of supplies in tow. You found your boyfriend in his bed, shivering with blankets and Akamaru wrapped around him.

“Kiba? How are you feeling?” He moaned, his face nearly matching his red fangs. Even though he was shivering, he was sweating profusely. “I’m really cold…” He was cut off by a coughing fit, causing your heart to break a little more at the sight.

“I brought some medicine and soup, do you think you can keep it down?” Akamaru, as if knowing his owner was in good hands, jumped off the bed, letting you take his spot. “Yeah,” he whispered tiredly. You frowned as you placed a hand on his forehead. “Kiba, you’re burning up!”

You rushed to the bathroom, running a rag under cold water. You were relieved at the contented sigh Kiba let out when the rag touched his head.

“Alright, I have the medicine, can you open for me?” It made you nervous about how different he was. His mouth barely opened and he didn’t bother to complain about the unpleasant taste. “Do you want to eat? Or save it for later?” His tired eyes lifted up to yours as he sniffled.

“Just wanna sleep… will you stay with me?” You nodded, propping up a pillow and leaning back as his head came to rest on your lap. “Thank you, (Y/N/N).” He mumbled. A small smile pulled at your lips as you combed a hand through his hair.

“You’re welcome, babe. Now get some sleep, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up.” You felt him nod once as he laid an arm over your torso. You watched him as he fell asleep, but you could tell it wasn’t restful. In all honesty, he looked quite miserable.

Without a second thought, you began to sing a quiet song (A/N: Think sad/slow song like Sam Smith or John Legend) that always calmed you down. Kiba’s face, which was scrunched, slowly smoothed out. His features finally looked relaxed, but you kept singing, not wanting to break the effect.

“You sound like an angel…” You paused in surprise, Kiba’s scratchy voice surprising you. You laid a small kiss on his forehead. “Rest, baby, you need it.” He silently placed your hand back in his brown locks, already half asleep. You complied with a chuckled. You resumed your singing, happy that he was finally getting some much-needed shut eye.

Gaara (Dancing/Salsa)~

We all know Gaara can be a little insecure at times, he trusted your word, of course, but somethings he just couldn’t ignore. Like when he was on the way to your house and saw you get into a man’s car and leave. He knew it was petty, but he couldn’t help it. You were dressed in a tight red, cocktail dress and he had on dress clothes, for goodness sake! In his mind, he had no choice but to follow you. What if you were going on a date with someone else? What if he was just a side piece?!

However, he was very confused when your car had pulled into a dance studio. What would you being doing there? Could you even dance? He’d never seen you do it.

Still, he waited a minute to follow you in, he didn’t want to be caught spying on you. He saw you enter a room and quickly tailed you around the corner, and into a room filled with two other couples. What kind of date was this…?

He stayed behind the door, just peeking his head out. Upbeat music that he didn’t recognize played throughout the room and everyone took their places. He was absolutely horrified as you began seductively dancing with the man. His hands were all on your waist and your thighs… he couldn’t watch anymore of it. He stomped over and gently but firmly ripped you out of his grasp.

Your (e/c) orbs met his seafoam ones, in shock. “What are you doing?!” Your lips parted in surprise and your cheeks reddened in humiliation as everyone’s eyes landed on you. “Gaara?! What are you doing here?!” His eyes narrowed at the man behind you.

“I was going to go to see you, but then I saw you leave with him! What is going on?” Even though he was scowling, you couldn’t help burst out laughing. “You think this funny? You think I like seeing my girlfriend out with other guys?”

The hurt in his voice stopped you short. “Gaara, this isn’t a date. I haven’t told you, because I wanted it to be a surprise, but I salsa dance and I’m performing at a recital. This is practice…” His face matched his ruby red hair. “P-practice?” I smiled, snaking my arms around his torso.

“Don’t sweat it, man, if I were in your position I probably would’ve been worse.” (R/n), your partner assured him. “Heh, yeah… sorry for interrupting, I’ll, um, be off now.” You grabbed his hand before he could dash off.

“Why don’t you stay? We can go out after.” He sighed in relief before nodding. “Okay.” You watched as he took a seat close to the wall.

You walked out of the studio hand in hand, to his car. “You were fantastic, (Y/N/N)! But… you should teach me to salsa because I’m the only one who should be able to touch you like that.” You giggled as you reached the car. “Deal.”

Kakashi (Singing)~

You and Kakashi were often paired together for missions, thanks to both of your skills and great chemistry. Tonight the two of you had a simple mission; infiltrate a Daimyo’s party, get him alone, then kill him. It was a dire mission, seeing as he had sent spies to collect info on the Hokage.

Just like all the evil old men that were your targets on your missions, he had a soft spot for pretty girls. Kakashi grumbled the whole way to the party, but with the promise of being careful (and a couple of kisses) he agreed to follow your lead.

There was a mini stage for impromptu singers and entertainers, and it was right in front of where the Daimyo’s table was. He was surrounded by girls young enough to be his daughter, which made you scrunch your nose up in disgust. “I have an idea, stay here, okay?”

The silver-haired jonin nodded sharply, his gaze not leaving you as you made yours to the stage. The guest of honor’s eyes seemed to drawn to you as well. You felt him look you up and down, your short, tight dress leaving little to the imagination.

You schooled your expression as you addressed the crowd. “This song is dedicated to the Daimyo, who has surely caught my eye.” You winked at him, trying to suppress your gag.

The song you sang was sultry and seductive, complete with your swinging hips. Everyone, not just the Daimyo, seemed to be enraptured as your steamy melody drifted through the venue.

As soon as you finished, he was already heading towards you. “Follow me, darling.” You permitted yourself to be dragged down a hallway behind the stage. You sent your nervous boyfriend a reassuring smile as you disappeared.

As soon as the door closed behind you, a senbon was in your hand. “Sorry, Daimyo, but your treason will not be tolerated.” His eyes widened. “Wha-” He dropped to the ground, two senbons silencing him.

Kakashi had entered the room five minutes after you had done the deed, clearly stunned. “Wow. That was an impressive display, love. I would love for you to reenact that when we get home…” He stated, suggestively. His hands rested on your waist and brought you closer to them.

You raised an eyebrow and gestured to the dead man. “I wasn’t aware you had a death wish, Kashi.” He rolled his eye, laughing. “If that means I get to hear you sing to me…” You laughed, kissing his cheek.

“How about I’ll just sing?” His joking smile turned sincere. “I would love that.”

~Akatsuki~

Pein (Dancing/Ballroom)~

You were bored out of your mind, there was nothing to do. Pein and Konan had left on a mission, and a lot of the others were out too. You spent most of your time in the orange-haired leader’s room since the majority of your things were already in there.

Pein hadn’t really given you a time frame, but so far it had been three and a half days, so they should be here soon right? You sure hoped so. You had already spun around in his chair like a child, read every slightly entertaining book in his room (not many) and you completed some overdue mission reports

You were quickly running out of time-consuming activities when your gaze landed on his cloak. Pein had never seemed like a dancing type, so you never had a partner to dance with. But now that no one was around it gave you a perfect opportunity to do what you love.

Before you’d gone rogue, you were part of a wealthy family and they had a passion for throwing parties where’d there be dancing all night. That was the only thing you liked about it, being able to forget everything and just twirl the night away.

You grabbed Pein’s spare cloak and held it the way one would their partner. You hummed a tune, it helps you keep your beat as you made your way around the room. You were actually having quite a bit of fun, and your humming got louder as you waltzed.

“What are you doing?” You shrieked, coming face to face with White Zetsu. (A/N: Hah, you thought it was Pein) Although you wondered where Black Zetsu was, you weren’t upset. He was always talking about eating you and the like.

“Um, dancing? What are you doing here?” Zetsu gave you a small smile. “Looking for Pein, I assume he’s not in?” I shook my head. “Unfortunately not.”

He gave you a strange look. “Why do you dance with a cloak?” You laughed. “Cause there’s no one else!” Zetsu took the cloak from you and set on the bed. “I’ll dance with you then. I’ve always enjoyed it, but Black Zetsu doesn’t dance.” Instead of questioning it, you shrugged and got into position with a simple ‘okay’.

He was actually really good, but you didn’t comment on it because it was nice finally having someone to dance with.

“Um, did I miss something?” You both spun around, your eyes meeting a confused Pein in the doorway. You smiled walking over to him. “Nope, Zetsu and I just like to dance.” His quizzical expression didn’t leave his face as you and Zetsu continued to dance as if nothing had happened.

“I had no idea you could dance like this. Where’d you learn?” You smiled at my lover as he approached you. “Society parties were a must, so I learned early. What about you Zetsu?” He smiled. “That’s a secret. Unfortunately, I must take my leave. Black Zetsu is waiting for me.”

With a small smile, he disappeared through the floor, leaving you and Pein alone. You flashed him a grin and held out a hand.

“Wanna learn to dance?” He placed his hand in yours. “I’d be honored.”

Deidara (Singing)~

You hummed quietly to yourself as you cooked dinner. It was your week to cook for the Akatsuki, and even though it was a lot of work catering to everyone’s individual preferences and needs, it was a fun job for you.

You had always used singing as a way to pass the time and this time was no different. You loved to sing older, classical songs, ones you would hear at the fanciest events. They would completely captivate you every time you heard them.

Your voice carried through the room as you lost yourself in the lyrics. You were so enraptured with your singing and cooking that you didn’t even notice your audience of one. A low, smooth voice joined in, harmonizing with yours.

You whipped around, the sight of Deidara causing you to freeze. He kept singing, but the smile on his face encouraged you to continue your little duet. The lyrics you two were singing seemed to mingle together, complimenting and enhancing each other.

As you both grew more confident, you began to draw closer together, and it looked as if you were serenading each other. The blonde-haired artist couldn’t keep the grin off his face, and neither could you. This moment was so perfect you didn’t think anything could ruin it.

You knew it would be easy to get used to his voice, it was so playful and soothing… it fit him like a glove the more you thought about it.

As the song came to a close you could tell Deidara wasn’t satisfied. “One more time? Since I missed the beginning and all.” He smirked mischievously. You grinned, holding his hands in yours.

“I guess since you asked so nicely, I can do it one more time.” You teased with a laugh. He lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed your palm. With a wink, he dived right into the first few words. Without hesitation you joined in, once again creating a beautiful harmony that could be heard all around the base.

You both were in utter bliss at this new experience. Never would you have imagined you and Deidara singing together, but now that it was happening you couldn’t imagine this any other way. Your arms made their way around his neck and his around your waist, but it did nothing to interrupt your flawless performance.

The sound of hushed whispers did, however. “Did you know they could do that?” “No! I’ve never heard either of them sing…” “He’s so whipped!” SMACK. “Shut up! This is so sweet!”

You and Deidara let go of each other, startled by the sudden appearance of Konan, Hidan, and Itachi.

“Oh, um heyyy… dinner is almost ready?” You stuttered trying to draw attention from you and Deidara’s little spectacle. Itachi’s eyebrow raised, a smirk on his lips. “You mean that?” He pointed to the burning, unrecognizable mess in a pan. “Um, takeout?” You suggested sheepishly.

Deidara laughed, his lips landing on your cheek. “Sounds good to me, Princess.” “SEE!?” Hidan exclaimed, “He’s whipped- OW! STOP, KONAN!”

#naruto x reader #sasuke x reader #neji x reader #shikamaru x reader #kiba x reader #gaara x reader #kakashi x reader #pein x reader #deidara x reader #naruto scenarios #singing #dancing

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

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Stray Kids Reaction to S/o Being a Ballet Dancer

A/n: I'm assuming this means like pointe dancer and/or principal dancer??? Anyway!!! Hope you like it bb!! I had fun doing this one!❤❤❤

Requested by: @desertofdessert (thank you bb! feel free to request again! this was so fun!!)

Chan:

Chan watched you gather up stuff and put it in the huge dance bag you carried. Unfortunately, you couldn’t spend Chan’s day off with him. It was just one of those times when your schedules didn’t match up. Chan totally understood. If you managed with his busy schedule than he could deal with yours. He also understood the expectations you were under as a principal dancer.

While he never was in the position himself, he has taken many ballet and modern dance classes when he was in Australia, so he knew how intense your job was. He also knew how short your performing career might be. “Why don’t you come with me?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“To practice? Won’t I get in the way of the others.”

You shook your head and tossed an extra water bottle over to him. “I’m just going for a solo run.” Chan smiled and jumped off the couch, following your out the door and to the studio your company rehearsed in. He watched in fascination as you stretched and slipped your pointe shoes on. For the next hour, Chan sat against the mirror and quietly watched in adoration as you danced across the floor.

“You wanna try?”

You had the brightest smile on your face as you pulled him up from the floor. You guided him through some steps and giggled as his technique was a little rusty. The two of you danced and laughed for the next couple of hours. You caught his eyes in the mirror as he held your waist to support your feet transition. A blush crept onto his cheek when you reached behind you and ghosted your hand over his cheek, coming down off your toes.

You did so in a way that was so graceful and almost like a dance move in itself. It sent chills down his spine. He loved seeing you in your element. You turned into a different person when you were dancing, he loved seeing you confident and moving without hesitation. He loved seeing your smile as he assisted you through a posse turn. You practically lit up the entire room.

I cant believe some people forget Chris has some classical dance training. I love thinking about him as modern dancer like wow

Minho:

Being a dancer himself, Minho loved how passionate you were about your art. He loved that he could have someone to go to the gym with and would understand having to go on crazy diets. It definitely helped his motivation with you to keep in him in check and vice versa.

However, what he didn’t like was your schedule. Usually, he came home late, and you left home early. He wasn’t the most touchy-feely person, but he did miss seeing you sometimes. So, he made a commitment to you that he would soon regret. There Minho was. At the studio with you. At five in the morning. “Only for you.” He muttered under his breath for the thousandth time.

It was really his idea. So he was to blame. He was the one who asked you to teach him a routine. However, he had no idea spinning on his bare feet would hurt so much. “You wanna try a lift?” You said coming beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

How were you not out of breath??????? Minho was sweating buckets under his jacket. “Hell yeah!” Why did he say that? That was not what he meant. He meant no. He meant let’s go back to bed like normal people. You explained to him how to do a pretty simple lift and how to get out of it. “Hold up. You want my hand where?” He asked with a mischievous smirk. You rolled your eyes and shoved him lightly.

“It’s a simple move. Let’s try just once- without the coupe turn.”

Minho laughed and nodded. He followed your instruction, watching in the mirror. As directed he placed his left hand around your abdomen and this right secured tightly over your right thigh. “Okay and now you lift up and dip.”

“Which way?”

“Forward and down. Duh.”

“DOWN. WHAT IF I DROP YOU ON YOUR HeAd??”

“You’ll do fine, Minho.” Carefully, he lifted you and he was surprised feeling the muscles of your stomach tighten and hold yourself up in his arms even as he dipped you. “See! You did awesome.” You laughed when you saw his terrified face in the mirror.

Changbin:

Changbin was ecstatic when he found out you were a ballerina. He was so proud of you. After that, he never missed one of your shows. He was always seated front and center with the goofiest, most proud grin on his face waiting for the lights to go down. He also makes you sign his program for every show. He keeps every single one of the programs and he says he wants to make a collage to frame for you.

He does worry about you often, knowing how strict your career is. He knows your schedule almost better than he knows his own. He’ll constantly check up on you and send you a text reminding you that you have to change out your toe pads and drink water.

You smiled hearing your boyfriend’s ringtone as you exited the rehearsal room. “Hi, Binnie! Where are you?” You giggled hearing he was waiting outside for you. He greeted you with a sweet kiss and wrapped his arms around you, blocking the cold air from penetrating your thin sweater.

“I’m buying you dinner. Let’s go.” He grabbed your hand and dragged you to the nearest hole in the wall restaurant he could find. He frowned when you ordered so little to eat. He sent you a stern glare as the waiter took away your menu. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped when you saw his face.

“Bin, I’ve got a dress and corset to fit into! Don’t worry, I remember our rule.” When you and Bin started dating he came up with this rule he was adamant you follow, especially while you were prepping for a show. He had a rule that you couldn’t walk away from the table if there was still food on your plate. He instituted the rule when he figured out you weren’t finishing meals the closer a show was.

Towards the end of your meal, you smiled as Changbin placed a generous piece of his food onto your plate. You picked it up and ate it gratefully. You frowned when he placed another piece on your almost empty plate without looking up from his food. Again you ate the food, honoring his rule. This time your boyfriend held eye contact with you as he dropped a huge piece of food on your plate.

“YAH SEO CHANGBIN!”

“WHAT?”

Hyunjin:

When Hyunjin met you he was instantly fascinated by you. When he found out you were a professional dancer the man was immediately whipped. However, he was so obsessed with the fact with the idea of being the perfect dancing couple he forgot to ask what kind of dancer you were.

You had nothing to do today. Hyunjin was busy with schedules today and couldn’t come over. You had an audition coming up for the lead in Cinderella so you figured now would be a good time to practice. You had bought this apartment specifically for the fact that the living room was huge and had nice real wood floors.

Pushing all the furniture out of the way you cleared a large enough space to dance in. Pulling out your semi-new pointe shoes you started prepping them. The room started to smell a little like burning fabric as you burned the frayed edges of your ribbons. A rich sound rang throughout your apartment as you banged the pleats of your shoes on the floor.

Music filled your apartment as you went through your audition routine. You focused on your turnout, keeping it perfectly positioned throughout your movements. You pushed up on relevae and into an arabesque keeping your core tight and leg high and elegant.

“Hey Y/n, Surpris- HOLY WHAT THE GOOD CLEAR PANTS OF JYP???”

You turned to find Hyunjin staring at you with his jaw dropped in shock. Turning off the music you walked over to your boyfriend with a smile and kissed his cheek. He still stood frozen like the drama queen he was. “Hi, honey! How are you?” He blinked and stared at you. He stepped away and took in all of you, his eyes lingering on your shoes.

“This is not what I expected......but I am so impressed right now.”

You smiled and pulled him down to kiss you, but he stopped your motion. “Nuh-uh. That’s cheating. You gotta work for it now.” He smirked down at you. With a giggle you rose in your shoes and kissed him, tangling your fingers in his soft hair.

Jisung:

Your relationship with Jisung was almost as old as the both of you. You had always been friends since before you could remember and Jisung could even remember you telling him about your very first dance class. You remembered him kissing you after your first lead performance and his cheeky smile when you and to stand on pointe to reach his lips at the time.

Jisung loved to watch you dance. It was maybe one of his favorite things in the entire world. He was always proudest when he was watching you float across a dance floor or stage. He was captivated by how powerful you were and what you could make your body do. However, there was another side to it...

“Ji...” You said walking through the door of your shared apartment. Hearing his nickname he jumped off the couch and took your bag off your shoulders. As the days grew closer to your shows he made sure to always be home before you. Even if that meant him getting up at three or four am to go back to the studio. You kissed his cheek with a huge grin and watched with adoration as he put your stuff on the table and picked you up and hurried you over to the couch as carefully as possible.

“Baby, I’m not glass. I can walk!”

“WE MUST PROTECT THE MERCHANDISE OKAY!”

When you were seated he grabbed the several ice packs from the freezer and made sure that he had enough to switch out later. You giggled watching him scramble to take care of you. Carefully, he took off your sneakers and winced at the red spots on your ankles and feet. “Ji- I can ice my own feet. I’ve been doing it for years-”

“LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU, WOMAN!”

You laughed and pulled him to your lips by the collar of his shirt. You loved that he knew your schedule. Even before you had moved in together Ji had known your schedule after ballet. Ice, eat, ice, stretch, ice and review rehearsal footage, then sleep. “How was your day?” He asked pecking your lips again. You smiled and looked into his soft brown eyes.

“Fantastic now.”

Felix:

Felix and you had been friends long before he made it big in the music industry. He always knew you danced, but until you started dating a couple months ago he had never really taken an interest in your dancing. Not because he didn’t care. He was just so god damn busy. He felt kind of bad that you didn’t even expect him to take an interest.

You never asked him to come to a show. You never really talked about rehearsals unless it conflicted with setting up a date, and you never danced in front of him. So, he was determined to change that. You came to the JYP practice room straight from rehearsal as Felix had asked.

You greeted the boys as the left the studio and found Felix standing by the mirror messing with his phone. He jumped when you wrapped your arms around his waist. “Ready to go, Lix?” You asked after kissing his cheek. “Actually,” He said turning around.

“We are gonna have our date here. You are gonna teach me about ballet!” You laughed and kissed him with a bright smile. You knew he wouldn’t last more than two hours. An hour later, Felix had shed his hoodie and was sweating through his tank top while you stood happily in your leggings and pointe shoes. You had to admit he was doing better than you thought.

“Oh my god! How do your feet open like that, you mutant!” Felix cried out trying to stay in first position.

However, when it came to actually dancing, Felix was fascinated. It was so different from how he danced. Felix had surprisingly good extension and he got some pretty good air on a couple leaps. And he loved watching you dance-especially when you went up on your toes. He thought you looked beautiful and elegant.

“That’s it I can’t take it. Take me home.”

“Great! Now I can teach you the second half of ballerina life.”

“What’s that?”

“Ice.”

I've low-key wanted to do a Felix ballet au bc gosh darn he is just so elegant and wooooooooww ballet!felix

Seungmin:

Seungmin loved watching you dance. The two of you didn’t live together yet, so he took every opportunity to see you dance anytime he could. He came to all of your shows and you practically had to kick him out of your closed rehearsals. For his birthday (per his request) you choreographed and performed a routine to his favorite Day6 song.

Date nights for the two of you usually happen after your rehearsals end and consist of your icing your body on the couch with Seungmin next to you, either watching a movie or talking and eating takeout.

“Seungmin? Are you here?” You called out into your apartment. Sounds from the kitchen confirmed the presence of your boyfriend. “Minnie?” You dropped your bag by the door and took off your shoes. Seungmin shuffled out of your kitchen with two mugs of tea in hand.

“What are we doing tonight?” He asked, setting the tea on your coffee table. He sighed when he saw the innocent smile on your face. “Really......again?” He laughed when you nodded excitedly.

“Fine.”

You cheered as he went to get ice packs and you pulled up Centerstage on Netflix. Seungmin was a good sport. This was probably the twenty-sixth time he had seen this film since dating you. He knew that the movie made you happy, especially if you had a rough day at rehearsals.

“Man, Cooper gets douchier and douchier every time we watch this.” Seungmin sighed, his arm around you.

“Yeah and Charlie gets dreamier and dreamier.”

“What?”

“What-”

Jeongin:

Jeongin watched the video you sent him with a huge smile on his face. You were on tour with your company, so you couldn’t be with him for a few days. Even though you were still in the country, he really missed seeing you.

It was so weird for him to not pick you up from practice. His eyes twinkled as he watched you dance across the backstage area of a venue. He smiled when he saw you rush back over to your phone and wave to him with a happy grin. The video was sent two days ago. You had talked earlier that day but he still missed you.

“Jeongin,” His attention snapped away from his phone and to Chan towering above him. His hyung helped him stand up and clapped him on the back. “Ready to go back to practice?” Jeongin sighed and nodded. “Hey, I’ve got a surprise for you,” Chan said running to his bag.

“Chan I’m just kind of depressed with Y/n away for so long.”

“I know. That’s why we are going to Y/n’s next show.”

Jeongin’s eyes widened as he watched Chan pull out two tickets to your show, Giselle. After practice, Chan drove the two boys two hours away to your venue to see her perform. Jeongin watched you dance across the stage with bright eyes. He loved watching you become the character of Giselle, though he couldn’t help but be a little jealous of the man who played your fiance.

When he and Chan surprised you backstage, you jumped into his arms and kissed him all over. “Innie! You came!” He smiled and wouldn’t stop talking about how fantastic you were.

“Y/n! Oh my god! You were so good! The whole leap thing, and your turns! And the thing with the lift- it was so cool! You did incredible baby!”

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trueromantic1 · 3 years

Text

The Myth of Me and You Is Fiction Turned To Truth

Summary: After the events of both seasons (SVU 22x16 and OC 1x08), Olivia and Elliot find themselves in the unique position of knowing where there love story will end up, but having no idea what exactly will transpire to get them there. One thing they do know? Their love can only grow deeper, and that they’re bound to enjoy the journey.

Author’s Note: For the purposes of this story, SVU 22x16 ended on May 28 (canon) and OC 1x08 ended on June 4 (not canon). This picks up on June 7.

Title comes from Great Ones by Maren Morris. It’s definitely an EO song.

Rating: M, possibly Explicit eventually

ff.net: here

AO3: here

Her phone beeped, drawing her distracted gaze away from the paperwork in front of her. Seeing the text message notification lighting up the screen, Olivia took off her glasses and put her pen down, picked up the phone, and leaned back in her chair with a sigh as she unlocked it.

Can I buy you dinner? There’s news.

She frowned, trying to tell his mood from those few words. Realizing it would be impossible, she glanced out at the nearly empty squad room before hitting the call button instead.

“You didn’t have to call. I know you’re at work still Liv.” Judging by the voices she could hear in the background, he was still at work as well. She knew they’d been dealing with the lawyers and IAB ever since Morales turned out to be a mole and decided suicide by cop was the best way out.

“It’s fine El. I needed a break from the paperwork for a minute anyway. The one thing they never prepare you for is just how much paperwork you do when you’re in charge of a squad. So, what’s going on?”

He chuckled, and she could hear the creak as he leaned back in his own chair. “That’s what dinner is supposed to be for Liv. If I tell you now, what would be the point of dinner?”

She smiled, recognizing his tone as the slightly flirty one she’d been hearing more of ever since what was supposed to be Fin’s wedding. Neither one of them was ready to jump into a relationship, but they’d come to a silent understanding that night by the water. “I don’t know Elliot. We’ve never needed a reason for dinner before. Why don’t you just tell me the news now, and then you can come over to my place later and we’ll get Chinese. Noah’s taking advantage of it being summer vacation and is at a sleepover so his friend’s mom can take them to an early show of a ballet she worked on costumes for. Apparently, they allow friends and family to come for free on Tuesdays, but it’s normally during the school day.”

“Oh, I bet he’s excited. Sleepover during the week and going to a professional ballet performance?”

“Yes, he’s thrilled. It’s all he talked about all weekend. Now quit stalling Elliot. What’s going on?”

“I never could get one by you, could I? Okay. Well, Angela Wheatley woke up earlier today, and is expected to make a full recovery. Bell and Washburn went over to the hospital once they cleared her for visitors. And we’re finally supposed to be done dealing with IAB and the lawyers over this. We still have to wait for IAB’s official report, but I got the feeling none of us were going to get in trouble for what happened. They told Bell they’d already spoken to you as well, so you should be done with them for now too. And then on a more personal note, you remember I told you I was looking at apartments in the city? At Fin’s not-wedding and then that I had some more appointments the rest of that weekend? Well, I found one, and I went down and signed the lease today during lunch.”

“El, I’m glad things are working out with the case, and that IAB will be out of all of our hair. It’s still bothering me what exactly Richard Wheatley was planning with that fake text sending me to the hospital. But I guess we won’t know unless he decided to tell us. But way to bury the lead! El, that’s great! I can’t believe you found a place in just a week. You didn’t just settle for something did you? You need a good place for you and Eli to make a home.” She knew he’d been anxious about getting out of the one bedroom short-term he’d rented after Kathy’s death, so she hoped he’d taken his time to find something he really liked.

“It’s nice, knowing you worry about us. And thanks. Don’t worry, it’s actually a great place. Rent’s a little higher than I’d planned, but I can make it work. It’s about halfway between here and the one six actually. About two blocks from the school Eli will be going to, assuming they’re back to in person by then. And it’s a three bedroom two and a half bath, which I figure will come in handy if any of the kids decide to visit and don’t want to drive home ever. And it’s near a park, in case anyone else wanted to visit. I take possession this Sunday, and Bell gave me Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday off so I can get some stuff moved in. I’ve got some furniture scheduled for delivery on Monday.” The calm she’d been hearing more and more in the last few weeks shone through, which she knew was at least in part because he’d finally started talking to someone. But she thought a lot of it had to do with settling back into the city, since he’d confided that as much as they’d been happy in Italy, the energy had just never been exactly right to him.

“I’ll always worry El, you know that. I’m glad though. Now you and Eli have all summer to get settled in. Hopefully he’ll meet some of his future classmates, so he won’t fell so new when school starts back up. And you know, it just so happens, I might know someone who could come help you get things set up. You know, if you were interested.” She made sure to infuse her voice with a hint of suggestion, upping the playful flirting they’d been indulging in just a bit. She mentally patted herself on the back when she heard the hitch in his breath followed him clearing his throat. His next words, voice lowered and with a hint of a growl, proved he hadn’t lost a step either, as she felt herself flush with arousal and a corresponding dampness between her thighs that she was fast becoming reacquainted with that caused her to cross her legs and shift in her seat to try to alleviate the pressure.

“Is that so? Well, far be it from me to turn down someone willing to work up a sweat with me. Why don’t we discuss it more over dinner? I should be able to be to your place by 7, if that works for you.”

She checked the time, then the stack of papers she needed to finish, then glanced into the squad room. Seeing her people were now at their desks, folders open in front of them, she quickly calculated it’d be at least another hour before she could even think of leaving, especially if she planned to take three days off next week. “Make it 8?”

“8 it is. Want me to pick up our usual on my way over, or are we having it delivered?”

“Hmm, better pick it up. You know how busy they get. If you call it in when you leave, it’ll probably be just about ready by the time you get there.”

“Sound good. I’ll let you go so you can finish up all that paperwork. See you in a few hours Liv.”

“Alright. Bye El.” Hanging up, she pressed the phone against her chest a moment, savoring the warm feeling she always seemed to get when she talked to Elliot these days, before standing up and walking out into the squad room.

“Anything you guys haven’t finished by 7, you can leave until tomorrow. Short of a new case, you can all clock out then, since we’re currently between cases.” She turned to head back to her office and the stack of paperwork, but turned back around when Amanda spoke.

“Are you clocking out then too Cap? I know Noah’s at that sleepover. You shouldn’t stay late finishing paperwork anymore if we aren’t.” Her detective’s voice was concerned, and she realized just how much her stress and worry over the last three months must have shown, despite how hard she tried to hide it.

“Yes, he’s already called me to say goodnight, because apparently they will be too busy the rest of the night with sleepover stuff to worry about me. But don’t worry, I’m clocking out then too. Even if that pile of paperwork is only going to grow when you all turn in your paperwork.” She turned again, hoping to make it into her office before anyone thought too hard about her clocking out when she didn’t have to, but Fin’s teasing voice told her she was too late.

“You? Clock out early when you don’t have Noah waiting at home? What’s up? You got yourself a hot date or something?”

She was a Captain. Had been a police officer for over twenty years. She’d had to keep her cool when being questioned on the stand by lawyers all the time. But she knew, she knew, that she couldn’t hide the hitch in her step or the slight wince as he asked his question. Even as she turned back around, her face carefully blank, she knew he’d caught her. “Date? No, I don’t have a date. Who would I even have a date with?” Internally, she winced again as she heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Elliot Stabler tell her that asking that many questions just made her sound defensive, and therefore all the more suspicious. Registering the varying degrees of shock on the three’s faces, she smirked to herself for surprising them at least.

“Oh, I don’t know. A certain Detective, maybe? I saw you two together at the ceremony, off in your own little world by the water. Almost like old times, ‘cept the flirting was a little too obvious.”

Trying to control the embarrassed flush she could feel, she internally cursed. She’d hoped everyone had been too preoccupied to pay attention to her and Elliot, but knew that had probably been too much to hope for. She knew the rumor mill had picked right back up when he’d returned, and people realized they were talking again. “Alright, yes, I’m meeting Elliot for dinner. But it’s not a date. We’re just going to do some catching up over Chinese. We haven’t really had much time to just talk since he came back.” She ignored the pointed look he shot her, and appreciated that Amanda and Kat at least pretended not to be interested, as she finally made it back into her office. She heard his footsteps though, saw him shut the door behind him as she sat down behind her desk.

“You sure about this? I just don’t want you getting hurt. Don’t forget, I was here when he left.” She could see the worry clouding his face, and resigned to give him the truth. After all, he’d been there for it all.

“I’m sure. We’re…Taking things slow. We’ve talked, and while neither one of us is ready to just jump straight into a relationship, we’ve discussed it, and have agreed that’s where we’re heading. So we flirt some, and we spend time together, and we talk. We’re not defining it yet. I know it sounds like dating, and maybe in a way it is. But what’s important to us is rekindling our friendship, first and foremost. We’ve already talked about why he left, how he left. And I’ve told him not only what it did to me, but I’ve told him what he missed. He was…Devastated. It turns out the whole family was in France at the time, and by the time the kids came back, it had already become old news. He swore he would have come back had he known, and I believe him. I’d always wondered if he’d just stopped caring, but if you’d seen how he looked, you’d have had to believe him too. So yes, I’m sure about this. We’re going to take things slow for now, but we know where we’re going to end up, even if we aren’t sure when that will happen. Speaking of Elliot though, I’m going to take a few personal days next week to help him get moved into his new place. He gets the keys on Sunday, and his furniture comes Monday.”

He still looked a little worried, but she could tell he would take her at her word. “If you say so. I have to say, I’m surprised you guys already talked about that. But I’m glad. You deserve to be happy Liv, and I think he’ll make you happy. And don’t worry, I’ll cover next week for you. And I’ll let the others know you’ll be taking some time, and make sure they don’t ask you any questions.” He turned and left the office, leaving the door open behind him as he went back to his desk, stopping to talk to Amanda and Kat on his way.

Putting her glasses on and picking up her pen, she smiled to herself as she went back to her paperwork. She still had a lot to work through before it was time to head out, though she was hoping the anticipation would make the time pass faster. Afterall, it wasn’t every day she got to head home to a hot meal and an even hotter man, not that she’d tell him that. His ego was already inflated enough.

#olivia x elliot #law and order fanfiction #olivia x elliot fanfiction #law and order: svu #law and order: oc #fanfiction

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