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sweetwritertanya · 4 years

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Dressed Up For Halloween (Taehyung)

Summary: Taehyung decides to invite you to a party he has to attend a bit last minute. So, you end up with a cheap and basic, albeit cute, witch costume. Going to the party makes you feel pretty self-conscious and it takes him a while to notice.

Warnings: SMUT! As always, do beware of (or look forward to): erotic body touching, fingering, hand-job, unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I write, be safe!), standing sex, sex in closet, aftercare.

Word Count: 2627

Okay, so you knew it was a predictable choice, going as a witch for Halloween. But it’s not like Taehyung gave you a heads up in time, you literally had less than three days to prepare. The best costumes were already out of stock in all of the stores you knew in town, you didn’t have that much to chose from.

Even so, you actually quite liked the one you ended up purchasing. It was a three-quarter length sleeved dress with a puffy ruffled skirt, sparkling tule to give it a magical feel and a belt to bring you in at the smallest part of your body, the waist. It worked wonders for your silhouette, showcasing the best curves of your oversized frame. The small skirt, longer on the back, displayed your soft legs, covered only by fishnet tights down to your black high-heels. With a typical broom in one hand and a pointy hat in your head, a striking make-up look, you actually liked the costume.

You should have had the foresight to ask your boyfriend what he would go as. Maybe then you would have felt better about how much you stood out next to him. He showed up at your doorstep dressed as Bob Ross, with a pair of expensive denim jeans and a blue fitted silk shirt, certainly from Gucci, a paint palette in one hand and a brush on the other. The only things missing were a fluffy curly wig and a beard, but he did have his black hair curly. He looked stunning as always and, once again, you wondered how the hell you got so lucky.

“My mischievous little witch, you look ravishing tonight, honey” he compliments with a boxy smile, before kissing your lips.

It would have been a lovely day if only you had skipped the party. You knew close to no one there except for Taehyung’s close friends, and they were all busy talking with other people, important people in the business. More than that, you kept standing by as Taehyung got continuous compliments on his costume – especially from daring women – which only made you feel more and more poorly dressed.

Being pretty oblivious in nature, Taehyung didn’t notice anything strange when you excused yourself and took a place next to the cupcake’s table, lips tugging down just like your spirits for the night. Your hand reached for one of the delicious looking treats and at the first bite you knew this would be where you would probably stay the rest of the night, surrounded by your closest friend: food.

By the second treat, you are leaning against the table, avoiding eye contact with anyone and fighting back the tears gathering in your eyes. You knew you were being overly sensitive about this whole thing, that you should be stronger than this. But knowing it didn’t mean you felt it.

“Y/N, honey, the guys and I were talking about-” Taehyung shows up next to you out of nowhere, with a spring on his step and a vibrant energy radiating from him. That is, until he searches for your eyes and realizes the state you were in. “Honey! What’s wrong, what happened?”

He leans down and places his hands on your shoulders, trying to keep your gaze but you glance away every time. His joyful expression is overtaken by a worried one, broad dark eyebrows pulled together and wide defined lips slightly parted.

“Nothing, really, don’t worry about it” you try and deflect his concern, to no avail.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here first” he decides, grabbing you by the hand.

Holding your hand firmly in his large one, Taehyung leads you away from the crowd, away from the party, and you can tell he doesn’t really know exactly where to go just yet. He is just searching for a quiet place to talk to you in a building he doesn’t even know very well.

Opening a door after you two cut a corner to an empty corridor, he pushes you into a maintenance closet, with shelves on both sides and tools at the back. It was a small room that was barely large enough to fit you two comfortably. Taehyung seems to hesitate for a moment, but does end up closing the door behind you and turning on the light.

“Okay, I doubt anyone will find us here. Now, why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying. I’m on the verge of” you correct him, to which he just crosses his arms and throws you a look. You sigh and, without looking at his face, you confess what’s been bothering you so much. “I just… I wish I didn’t come here. Tae, I don’t fit in. I don’t know anyone and everyone is wearing such expensive and creative costumes while I’m… I showed up dressed up for Halloween as a witch, Tae. A witch. Like the basic bitch I am.”

“Hey!” he admonishes, taking your face in between his hands and making you look at his offended expression. “My girlfriend is anything but a basic bitch. You look better than anyone out there and idiot is anyone who doesn’t see it!”

You smile and lean your head in his hands, enjoying the comforting warmth.

“You have to say that because you’re my boyfriend. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

His demeanor changes subtly, his comforting hands leaving your face to clutch together in front of him, head hanging low and eyesight set on the floor beneath his feet.

“Not much of a boyfriend if I didn’t even realize how bad you were feeling. I’m sorry I forced you to come with me, Y/N” he apologizes, voice filled with guilt.

“Hey, none of that” is your turn to comfort him, separating his hands so you can sneak past them and hug him by the waist, chin prompted on his chest as you look up with affection. “You invited me to come and I said yes. It’s not your fault I’m feeling a bit sensitive today about all of this. And you’re doing a great job as my boyfriend so far, Taehyung.”

He smiles slightly at that, releasing his culpability with a heavy sight as he leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes.

“Want to go home now, honey?” he asks.

“Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

His smile stretches wider and he pecks at your lips, just a few inches away from his and just begging to be tasted. Hands resting on your wide hips, he is about to step back and guide you two back out when you stand on your toes to steal a kiss from him too, soft lips meeting in a sweet encounter.

It was supposed to just be a quick kiss, but soon a kiss turns into two and three, and then it’s too difficult to keep count anymore. Mouths refuse to part as the air in the small room thickens, your skin starts to tingle and scorch under his touch, your back hits the shelves behind you and stays constrained against them as Taehyung’s slim body presses into your soft one.

More than touch, his hands are squeezing your abundant flesh over your clothes, creating paths from your waist to your lower back, up to your shoulder and again down your sides. Your cheeks turn red in crimson heat, eager hands pulling at the silk shirt to untuck them so you can run your fingers directly against the warm skin of his hips and lower spine. Taehyung shudders and sighs under your touch and your stomach clenches in desire for so much more.

As much as your mind logically understands that you shouldn’t keep going, your body screams for more and more. So, you don’t even try to stop him when Taehyung’s wondering hands find themselves at your thighs, playing with the fishnet tights, digits sneaking in between the holes to press against your flesh.

“Oh, Tae…!” you whisper, arching your back and clawing at his waist.

“You want to stop?” he immediately questions, voice dripping with repressed lust.

“God, no!”

He chuckles and attaches his beautiful lips to the side of your neck while his hands grew busy. The tights added no constriction as he grazed his finger over your clothed core, charging up the already electrified pressure down in your womb. The black panties hide the growing stain right at your crotch but there is little you can do to hide how turned on you are once he pulls the garment aside and dips his digits directly into your velvet center.

You jump slightly at the touch, mewling as you hold on to his shoulders, letting your legs fall a bit more apart to give him better access.

“You are so wet, darling” he informs, as if you didn’t know, with a hint of wonder and almost disbelief behind his tone.

Simply mewling into his chest at that, his fingers start a lazy path up and down your slick slit, teasing at your clenching hole and drawing circles at the little engorged pearl on the other side of your lower lips. You feel like your insides are bowling, a desperation taking over your brain and body that only he could originate.

When his lips reach yours once again, tilting his head to the right so he can taste you fully, that’s when he slides the first finger in, a delectably long finger of his that drag against your clenching walls in the most pleasurable ways. He swallows your moans as he keeps kissing you, tongue revolving around yours at a similar pace his finger slid in and out of you. As your breathing grows rapidly shallow, he moves his mouth to instead bite at your ear, at the same time he decides to add another finger.

The stretch is wonderful in the most shameless ways and when he starts scissoring them inside while keeping them knuckle deep in you, the legs holding you up almost gave out. Then he curls his fingers, deep inside and grazing your cervix, right at that spot that clouded your vision with white spots of light. With a movement of his thumb against your sensitive clit, you come undone completely and it takes all of your inner strength not to yell out as the aching coil unfurled from within.

He allows you a moment to regain control over your thoughts, fingers still buried in you but immobile. When you lean back against the shelves, spent but functional again, he removes them and you watch with hooded eyes as he licks them clean, almost shyly. His eyes were as dark as his hair, cheeks tinted pink and lips bruised red.

“Do you… want to continue this back home? I may need a few minutes before we leave” he states, looking down at himself before raising his eyes back at you.

You follow his glance and realize what he was talking about. Even in denim jeans, there was no hiding the enormous bulge pressing against his zipper. It would be difficult to get out of here without anyone noticing it.

“Maybe we don’t need to go back home to continue” you suggest, biting your bottom lip as you allow your hands to fall from his shoulders down his chest and tug at his belt.

A shaky grunt leaves your boyfriend’s throat and he tilts your head up towards him. You see passion and lust behind his look as he brushes his thumb over your lips and then gives you his fingers for you lick any remaining trace of yourself clean. You suck on his digits at the same your hands undid the belt and pulled the pants down, tasting both his own unique sweet and spicy flavor as well as your own.

Slowly, you pull at the hem of his boxers to free his erection and pull it down to where his pants had fallen, just above his knees. Taehyung’s cock stood tall and proud, flushed a dark pink and curving up ever so slightly. The dying flame at the pit of your stomach flared back up intensely at the sight.

One hand pulling at his collar so you can kiss him seductively, the other one encircles his length and, with a rough grip, pumps up and down the erect dick. Grunts bubble up his throat as you do so, his hands grasping at your arms to ground himself. You use your fingers and thumb to stroke over the flushed tip while you move your fist around him and he almost chokes.

“Feeling good?” you question with your lips pressing just below his hear.

“Y-yeah, very” he manages to respond.

He would prove it soon enough, when after just a few more pumps of your hand leave him mad with desire and he steps back from you. Removing your hands from him, he ends up ripping your fishnets between your thighs in the attempt to pull them off and pushes your panties aside, aligning himself with your entrance while lifting one of your bulky legs with a hand beneath the knee.

He plunges inside in a swift move, your welcoming warm walls embracing him with pleasure. It makes the hair behind your neck stand up and a moany sigh escape you.

“Those were my only fishnets, Tae” you complain even in the midst of all these erotic sensations.

“Sorry, I’ll buy you new ones” he promises in a breathy whisper.

He starts rocking his hips back and forward, his cock inside pulsating and filling you completely as the tip nestled right up against your cervix. You have to take the back of your hand against your mouth to keep you from making noise, the heavenly feeling of his shaft dragging inside your walls too much for you handle. Every time his pelvis snaps against yours, the impact reaches your protruding clit and you jolt, heat rising off of you.

Your pliant muscles fit snuggly around his throbbing haft and the slickness increases as the fire grows, pressure building rapidly deep and low in your belly. Taehyung’s face was flushed and glistening with a thin layer of sweat, you could see the throb of blood on his temples as his hips snap forward harder and faster, deeper and desperate. The grip on your leg is so strong it may leave an imprint of his fingers and you don’t care one bit as his cock suddenly hits that hidden spot inside and you cried out into your fist, eyes closed and back arched.

Your body melts into pleasure that uncoiled from your womb and erupted abruptly, leaving your brain dizzy and muscles clenched in the pleasurable high until they gave out in the most satisfying release. Feeling your walls sucking him dry as they collapse around his cock, Taehyung thrusts just a couple of times before his own release floods through him like water, crashing down in molten waves that have him quivering and spilling inside of you.

Spent and tired, Taehyung still manages to reach for a box of tissue paper they had in store and take out a few of them. Slowly, almost painfully, he slips out from you and cleans the mixture of juices that spill out with the up most care. He throws the dirty tissues to the garbage can beneath the cleaning cart and pulls your panties back up as well as rearrange your tights. Then he buckles himself back up but not without leaning down to kiss your smiling lips one last time.

“Let’s get out of here and throw our own Halloween party back at home? Just the two of us?” he proposes, knowing perfectly well that was your ideal scenario.

“Yes, please” you smile with adoration at him and agree.

#halloween special #13 stories for halloween #bts #bts x chubby reader #chubby #v #BTS v #taehyung #bts taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts fic #bts fanfiction #taehyung smut #bts smut #plus size reader #kpop plus size #kpop smut #kpop chubby reader #Smut

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saladejin · 4 years

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Les Amoureux | Jungkook

Jungkook x Reader | theatre!au, musicals & singing | Fluff and crack, heavy use of musical theatre references

Summary: Your favourite backstage buddy tries his best to crack down on why you’re so attracted to stage actors, but he knows you’ve only got eyes for him in the end.

Warnings: None, having knowledge of some well-known musicals will make this more enjoyable though

Word Count: 2.3k (basically a drabble)

! ! ! READ BEFORE CONTINUING ! ! ! This one-shot has some references to a couple of musicals, and if you're not familiar with these then I'm afraid it might go over your head in some parts. The references are from the shows 'Phantom of the Opera' and 'Les Misérables', and I will leave a note at the end of which songs are included if you wish to listen for yourself. Otherwise, it probably won't make sense and won't be as enjoyable :/ I strongly urge you to listen to this song during the last part of the one-shot, or at least listen beforehand to grasp the dynamics and line exchanges: A Heart Full of Love (I fast-forwarded for you) *Request from my Ao3 series ‘Movie Night’.

“What is it about stage actors that you find so attractive?”

You lifted your head from where you were sewing up a hole in a costume, the frilly pink material bunching up around your hands until you could barely see where the needle was going. Your fellow crew member, Jeon Jungkook, had heaved himself up to sit on one of the nearby desks. Clearly, the poor boy was bored out of his mind.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You smirked, eyeing him in a teasing manner while finishing off the costume repair swiftly.

The late-night musical you guys were helping backstage for had already begun twenty minutes prior, and after having nothing to do for another three songs, you had both ventured down towards the change rooms to get some work done in the meantime. Well, to be fair it was more like you had sought out the jobs while Jungkook just wanted to pass time in the company of his closest theatre friend.

“Surely you’re not blinded by those flashy costumes,” The dark-haired man scrunched his nose up in a playful cringe.

“Think harder, Jeon,” You chuckled at his antics, noticing the way he bounced his leg up and down while he thought. The energetic boy was dressed in all black just as you were, since it was a requirement of all crew members in order to remain unseen by the audience if they needed to be on stage at any point.

You couldn’t help your eyes from wandering along his impressive physique, all pressed up in a black high-necked skivvy and tight black jeans.

“Us crew guys work out just as much as those pretty boys do, probably even more. Plus, I hear the stylists complaining about the hair they have to deal with every night,” Jungkook continued to try and sway your mind, obviously getting a kick out of picking your brain and earning your mild reactions of laughter and amusement in return.

“You think your hair is much better?” You let out a single breath of bewilderment and tried to keep your widening smile at bay. He was too cute in the way his eyes widened and brows furrowed with mock offense, the man reaching a hand up to ruffle his soft looking brown tresses.

“What’s wrong with – hey I’m not done!”

You bit your lip to hold back an amused grin, proceeding to leave the room and make your way down the stairs to return the pink dress to the costume area. The sound of Jungkook’s clunky footsteps let you know he was following closely behind to continue his investigation.

“Oh, I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, it’s the popularity. Being out in the spotlight. The fame and attention that comes with it,” He said in a matter-of-factly tone, and you could hear the playful bunny smile interwoven through his voice as he spoke.

“Is it? And how shallow do you think I am, Jeon?” You quipped, trying to ignore his warm breath brushing the back of your neck once you stopped to pull open the door. The light-hearted and joking attitude he adopted was so radiant, and you swore you would never get enough of his overwhelming charm and charisma.

You turned around after putting the dress down, lifting one finger to point and rest against the skin of your throat so he would catch the hint. Almost instantly, his head was thrown back as the epiphany struck, and a loud ‘ah!’ tumbled from his lips.

“Of course it’s the voice. God, I should’ve seen that from a mile away!” He groaned and met your eyes with his own sparkling coffee-brown ones. You could bet your last dollar that the cheeky guy already knew you had a thing for the stage actors with their beautiful voices and their strong dramatic acting, but he really did love to string you along and push all of your buttons.

“Get me a man who can sing his way to my heart,” You teased once more, knowing that he would instantly be thinking of what to do with this new information. You left him standing in the smaller costume room in his weird daze, wondering what else you could fix up before returning side stage to assist with the ongoing show.

A loud clutter sounded from the room you just left, and you felt a small stab of anxiety that someone would come down here and catch the two of you messing around (even though you were doing your best to be helpful at least), but you only exhaled in relief as Jungkook swept out of the small doorway with a flamboyance even your precious stage actors couldn’t rival.

You rolled your eyes at the goofball of a man in front of you.

“Not doing anything for you?” Jungkook hummed curiously, even though he knew exactly how little his little skit was ‘doing’ for you. Slowly, he peeled the extravagant Indian styled headdress from his dusty brown locks and eyed you with a newfound glint of amusement in his brightening doe eyes.

“Or….” He hummed lowly, eyeing you with a pointed gaze and a cheery lilt to his tone. “It’s not the voice, but rather the song.”

“What?” You felt your brows knit together in confusion.

“Show tunes, there’s not a woman in this world that could resist ‘em,” he continued, not phased in the slightest. You couldn’t help but let a warm feeling of fondness wash over you as he began singing softly. Though you appreciated any decent male vocalist, his voice in particular was your ultimate weakness in the end.

“Night time sharpens; heightens each sensation.”

“Jeon don’t you dare,” You grunted, knowing exactly where this was going. In the midst of the ongoing show upon the stage upstairs, the two of you were quite alone down in the change room area. While the sounds of thumping feet and cascading music echoed from above, you both only fixed your attention on one another.

Jungkook’s eyes gleamed as he left the first line of ‘Music of the Night’ hang in the air precariously, only moving to hide himself behind a rack of costumes a second later. From your seat on one of the makeup artist’s benchtop, you could just catch a tiny glimpse of a shaggy tuft of hair sticking up from behind the line of cloaks.

“You’re so lucky nobody’s-”

You cut yourself off as he rounded the edge of the rack from the other side, now wrapped in a dark midnight black cloak and lifting it to hide half his face. Just like the Phantom of the Opera himself.

“Silently the senses, abandon their defences!”

“Pfft… you’re such a dork,” You cackled and almost went toppling off the benchtop. He lifted one corner of his lips into a smirk and you felt your heart constrict at the sight. He was so charming, yet so silly. You didn’t know whether you wanted to smack him or kiss him right there in the room shrouded in shadow.

Wanting to humour him and his playful antics, you launched yourself off the bench and snatched a curly black wig from a nearby polystyrene head. You didn’t have a white dress, but you were sure he’d catch on.

“Angel of Music…Guide and guardian,” You sang through the various giggles falling from your lips. Your voice, though not terrible, could never match his stunning rendition of the two songs.

“Grant to me your glory~”

His eyes lit up at your eagerness, and he only got into character further by sidling up to you and stroking a delicate hand down the side of your face. The very picture of Christine and the Phantom themselves, you might say. With a dark glint in his eye, Jungkook looked like he was ready to sweep you off your feet, but the next sentence that graced your ears wasn’t what you were expecting to hear.

“Hmm, I don’t know… the words~”

With that you broke your façade and fell into his side, unable to hold back the laugh bubbling in your chest. “Here you are trying to woo me with show tunes, but you don’t know any!”

“Hey!” He gasped and retorted in protest, “I know plenty, thank you very much.”

“Where are they then?” You placed your hands on your hips with one eyebrow raised, knowing just how stupid you looked with the curly wig perched on your head, judging by the way the man in front of you was trying to stifle his shit-eating grin. He was looking rather funny himself with that massive black cloak hiding his entire body, enough so that only his head was poking out the top cutely.

“Um, hold on…”

You pursed your lips in amusement as he rushed away towards another costume rack. Not even wanting to know what he was doing, you stepped away and placed the scratchy wig back in its place.

“Master of the house, doling out the charm; ready with a handshake and an open palm!”

You whirled around to catch your hopeless counterpart as he threw a stained rag over one shoulder and started stumbling around as if in a drunken stupor. You couldn’t contain your peals of laughter at this point, it was all so hilarious and dumb that the show upstairs was all but forgotten. Jungkook found your amusement contagious and broke character almost immediately, watching you affectionately as he leaned against the wall for support.

“You know,” You sighed after coming down from your high, “Pretty much every song in that musical is depressing as fuck.”

The man smirked and made sure to leave the rag folded nicely on the nearest makeup bench, shaking his head roughly to try and get rid of any excess dust from the headdress he wore in the very beginning.

“Yeah, well ‘Les Misérables’ literally translates to ‘the miserable ones’. What can you expect? Help me out here,” He whined, faking an adorable pout while you once again suppressed your foolish smiling.

“I said pretty much every song, not all of them,” You cleared your throat. “You forget how many themes of love and romance are in there, Kookie.”

His eyes brightened at the sound of the nickname. It was rare for you to slip like this, as calling him by his last name or just ‘Jungkook’ was what stuck when you guys were hard at work at the theatre. Outside of that world, your walls would come down slightly and you’d grant him many nicknames and cute terms of friendly endearment. This time, however, your heart had somewhat betrayed you.

“Right,” He smiled softly, tearing his eyes away from you to sweep his hair off his forehead in a rush to clean up his messy act. To you, the movement was unfairly attractive, as it granted a great view of his arms and biceps through the long black sleeves of his shirt. All of a sudden, sweet dulcet melodies in the form of his voice graced your ears.

“A heart full of love…. A heart full of song.”

You almost melted on the spot at the way he sang the beautiful lines, wondering for a split second if they held any deeper meaning from the way his eyes had locked onto you so intensely. He was always like this, gaining such a gentle maturity when you least expected it. You eagerly returned his offer to duet, pushing yourself off the wall to meet him in the centre of the room.

“A heart full of love,” You laughed airily through the line. “No fear. No regret…”

“My name is Je-on Jungkookie,” He sang in a terrible French accent, almost breaking it with a chuckle when you laughed at his sneaky lyric change. It should’ve been ‘Marius Pontmercy’, a principal character from the show, but you let it slide and played along by switching your own line.

“And mine’s (Y/n).”

“(Y/n), I don’t know what to say,” Jungkook continued without fault, taking up your hands in his and giving you a slow spin around the empty space. You wanted to lose yourself in the feeling of his warm embrace and dainty fingers threading through your own.

“Then make no sound,” You almost whispered.

“I am lost,” He sang quietly, pulling you in close.

“I am found,” You leaned forward, feeling his warm breath brush your parted lips ever so slightly. If you both only had the soothing orchestra surrounding you as the scene played out, it would have been undeniably perfect; a tender moment caught in time.

“Do I dream?” He breathed after a few seconds had gone by, almost as if forgetting himself within the song. Your faces were inches apart, and you would’ve forgiven him for skipping an entire verse if he would only close the space between you, a gap you so often wanted gone the more time you spent together like this.

His gentle hands swept your loose strands of hair behind your ear as his doe eyes fluttered shut, leaning closer and closer.

You were ready to finally let him have his way with you, the taste of those pretty lips which were so often stretched into a smile around his adorable bunny-like teeth were right there, but the sound of loud trumpets and thundering footsteps echoing from above pulled you away from his minty scent.

That sounds like…

“Shit, we missed our cue!”

His eyes blew wide and your breath hitched in panic.

Then you were flying up the stairs like there was no tomorrow. Your breathless stream of apologies to the poor people that had to fill in for you seemed to never end, and you felt the guilt eating you up from the inside as you and your pesky crewmate stood rigidly side by side next to the stage manager’s desk.

“Am I irresistible yet?” Jungkook murmured while letting his elbow nudge your arm. It was hard to see due to dark lighting, but you could easily make out the man’s knowing smirk and the gleam in his impish gaze.

“Take my cleaning duty for the week, Jeon, and I’ll think about it.”

Songs included (I fast-forwarded to the timestamps for you guys):

Phantom of the Opera: 'Music of the Night' - Jungkook sings the first line/s 'The Mirror (Angel of Music)' - You sing this Les Misérables: 'Master of the House' - Jungkook sings this line 'A Heart Full of Love' - linked in the beginning notes -------------------------------------------------------------------- A/N- Hope this was somewhat okay. I love musicals so it kind of ran away from me, and I know that not many people probably share this love or knowledge of them. I'm so sorry T-T Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #BTS jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook crack #musicals #one-shot #phantom of the opera #les miserables #reader insert #this is so cringeworthy i'm sorry #i truly am #this happened out of nowhere #please dont judge me #lol

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terraforged · 5 years

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Tfw you make the mistake of talking about gay af Hallow’s End stuff with @/holyforged and then you gotta write it :^(

Fair warning this is, uh, long. Also pretty gay and self gratuitous yikes I’m sorry.

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Soft thud of wings near soundless as he carried them through Exodar, an endeavour he found frivolous when the walk was not truly a long one-- admittedly it was perhaps a confusing one, the twisting passages of the Exodar a baffling thing even though he had ventured here on occasion. Anduin, however, had asked so very sweetly with a flutter of eyes Wrathion knows to be deliberate yet had fallen for anyway. His king’s amusement to that fact was not lost on Wrathion either, though he would be more inclined to say his reasonings were elsewise.

Autumn was well on its way to claiming the land, a fact even bastion of molten earth was aware of as chilly caress bit at thick scales as metal and crystal finally gave way to inky dark above. With autumn came cold, the bone aching sort which crept in and made its nest quietly, painfully, in places of old hurts. The High King hid it well. Wrathion does not think another mortal might even notice barring the worst of days where stiffness rages through Anduin terribly, but Wrathion is not mortal, is instead top of all food chains within these lands. Any predator knows weakness where they find it; can see the lameness of a sickly deer, the way weight is not carried properly even as they try to hide it.

Anduin was no deer of course, is no meek prey, but Wrathion sees none the less and so he had agreed and allowed elder upon his back. Bore still unfamiliar weight onto himself as gloved hands slide against onyx neck, a wandering caress Wrathion thinks nothing of until he feels tap for his attention.

“There,” Anduin says, voice whipped away from him by winds but heard nonetheless as crimson eyes find illuminated settlement in questions, wings folding into a graceful dip until taloned feet met earth once more with ripple of muscle a ways from the settlement.

Wordlessly he felt Anduin shift upon him as if to dismount, a goal quickly dashed as Wrathion eased into long strides which closed meager distance between they and Azure Watch. It earns him a laugh, one that has wings shuffling where they rest tucked against him.

“Are you looking to replace Reverence?” Words come with light amusement, breath curling in puff of condensation like smoke before the king’s face. A sham of an illusion, but a charming one Wrathion thinks regardless as Anduin prattles on with his nonsense. “He enjoys our morning rides when I have the time! He’ll be really quite upset if you try and take that from him, and he’s already not entirely fond of you~”

For all draconian features did not easily wear emotions flatness still prevailed on his features. “Your human stories that talk of dragons whisking away princesses. They’re very inaccurate. You humans talk far too much to be worth kidnapping.”

“Are you calling me a princess? Really? Now, that is rich from you. My, what was it you were complaining about just this morning? Other than everything, obviously, as you seem to have a never ending list of complaints--” It was a tangent cut short by deliberate bounce of step, jarring a soft ‘oof’ from Anduin before the fires of Azure Watch cast them in their glow.

On most days there would be shrieks of upset at a black dragon making an appearance, weapons raised in fear, in contempt. Usually Wrathion would scarcely dare allow himself to be caught by so many mortals in true form, and yet tonight such was apparently… acceptable. Hallow’s End was, in his opinion, a rather baffling affair. One that could turn fear into a childish awe as they perhaps simply did not deem him real, did not think it was anything other than a clever illusion. It was a farce, he thought, but as he looked about at garishly costumed children fleeting about with unabashed glee he didn't suppose it mattered. If happiness could still be found even in the midst of such a pointless war then who was he to begrudge it?

Soft gasps rang out as children pointed to Anduin, High King an unexpected sight for seldom did he have time to leave Stormwind say for battle these days, a fact Wrathion thought must weigh heavy upon that soft heart of his. That they were here now, seemingly without cause, without dire urgency spurring Anduin into action, was evidently fascinating to young draenei and visiting humans alike. Even adults murmured as Wrathion finally drew to a stop beside roaring fire, front end dipping until chest hit ground and rear followed, limbs tucking beneath himself much like an overgrown feline which had taken to soaking up warmth.

Feeling tell tale shifting once more Wrathion cranes head around, lifting wing for elder to brace hand upon and steady self as he slid down shoulder to ground. “You’re causing quite the stir! Though, I suppose that should hardly be considered a shock, hm? With how rarely your guard dog lets you--”

“Wrathion,” comes an exasperated sigh from Anduin, cutting Wrathion off from an old argument they have had on several occasions. They would have it on many more if Wrathion were to get his way, though it seemed Anduin was ill inclined to allow today to be such an occasion as he swatted at Wrathion’s snouth earning indignant huff of coiling smoke.

“Very well.” Concession came from the drake as he shifted once more, scaled body heaving to free a foreleg from beneath himself, talons curling into soft dirt as Anduin pulled a well worn leather pack from his back.

Bold children wander toward king, curiosity dancing in their young eyes as they whisper conspiratorially to one another, emboldened by the soft smile which graced Anduin’s face. The heat of raging fire at Wrathion’s opposing side was, suddenly, almost chilly against the radiant warmth of such an expression, chest constricting sharply, painfully, as Wrathion deftly ignored such a notion as Anduin sat upon extended leg and tucked himself into comfortable crook between neck, shoulder, and once more folded wing.

“You all look very fierce! I do wonder what I might have to appease such scary monsters.” Children drew closer as Anduin dug fingers into pack, withdrawing with a handful of colourful candies which drew delighted squeals of excitement from the gathered children; even a few adults, the elder draenei especially, seemed somehow equal parts amused and baffled by the odd turn of events. The affair earnt yet another gossamer laugh from Anduin, offering the sweets to all-- regardless of age-- who came.

Wrathion had little interest in such things, less so even as Anduin began to regale a story Wrathion thinks he might have heard thrice this week already within Stormwind itself, but one the king tells with just as much enthusiasm as he had every time before. Soon children and adults alike are seated before him, enthralled by the tale Anduin offers to them as yet more confectionary is handed out liberally as Anduin’s voice became a soft drone to Wrathion, a gently lulling thing of sounds more than words.

It was a revere eventually broken by the sound of shuffling, a nervous little cough that finally drew Wrathion’s attention from Anduin and crowd alike to find a young draenei girl dressed as what seemed to be a shaggy owlbear, though one free of mask as she clutched it in little hands to gaze up. A look he met, lazy blinks as third eyelid swept across glowing ruby and gold, her own stare never faltering.

“People tell lots of scary stories on these cold nights,” she says, shuffling closer ever so in a display that had him arching head back and away in equal measure to recoil ever so and hold her in his gaze. “They tell bad ones about black dragons, sometimes. You don’t seem scary though, not if King Anduin likes you.”

It is a statement that earns a throaty laugh, one that covers the sickly feeling child’s words inspire. “Well, of course I am not trying to be scary! But if I were to then you would certainly be terrified.”

Words seemed to give her pause for beat, eyes dipping as fingers shifted on her mask. The draenei were a terribly thoughtful race Wrathion pondered, philosophical and not as prone to the harsh judgments of other races. Even so, he does not quite expect what she says next.

“You have pretty horns. I’ve never seen a dragon before, though there are many stories written about them.” And he can hear it, that childish curiosity barely hidden at all with a wonder in her eyes he does not think he has ever been confronted with before. It is not the fear he is used to, the distrust that is brandished at him day in, day out. Perhaps that is why he barely reacts as she continues on with a soft, daring; “I thought dragons would be bigger.”

On another day, to another person, such bold insult might have earnt ire from him, but today he merely eyes her silently for a moment before finally, finally dipping head once more until tip of snout is nosing gently into her soft hair, brushing her own little nubs of horns. “Much like yours mine are still growing, but in several years more perhaps we should meet once more so that you might show me how much more magnificent your own become.”

Shallow huff ruffled her hair as she giggled, reaching to touch at scales before he took to nudging her toward rest of crowd. “But for now enjoy the stories. His are far better than tales about dragons, though I’d be very glad if you were to keep that between us. We wouldn’t want our king to get an oversized head from an abundance of compliments, hm? Our secret.” One that was no secret at all really, spoken both too publically and far too loudly to be as much, a fact proven by the amused titters that sound as she joins the other children as one story closes and another begins.

Such sagas span on throughout the rest of the eve as Wrathion settled head upon ground, content to doze as Anduin talked on, drawing to a close only when sweets are exhausted and children begin sagging as sleep sought to claim them, adults retrieving them one by one to tuck them into warm beds for the night.

Then, and only then, did Anduin dare brush fingers against neck once more to rouse his companion, drawing a clicking huff as breath caught in great chest before Wrathion turned to greet him with a yawn full of vicious teeth.

“Charming,” was Anduin’s amused retort. “Though between the two of us I don’t think my ego is the one we should be worried about, Wrathion.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear king! My ego is perfectly suited to my capabilities.” A terrible unkingly snort was his only reply, Wrathion meeting it with a lazy puff of smoke in his face before Anduin reached, curling fingers against scaled cheek as ever tumultuous blue eyes sought out draconian red.

The expression he wears is not one Wrathion thinks he has seen before, not entirely. Those vivid eyes were filled with something he does not recognise; thoughtful as fingers scratched idly against him, brows furrowed ever so though not quite in consternance. There is an ever present warmth to it of course, kindly as ever as corners of mouth cling yet to a smile that has not left Anduin’s face since their arrival. Anduin is considering, but entirely what Wrathion cannot say. It is a frustrating position to he who prided himself on the knowledge he could hoard, though thankfully he was saved the embarrassment of attempting to needle it from Anduin by an armour clad vindicar.

“Your majesty,” the hulking figure began, respectful dip offered before continuing on. “We have prepared drinks and food at the Exodar in your honour. The Prophet Velen has requested your presences.”

It sounded terribly tedious to Wrathion, though if nothing else it would be a learning experience, one he likely could not avoid as Anduin moved to stand as Wrathion followed suit.

“Of course, we’d be glad to. Please, tell him we shall attend imminently.” Dipping his head the draenei returned the gesture, turning back toward Exodar and making to send word. It is then they are cast into a brief reprieve as others about them attend their business, adults gathering with children now gone to begin what Wrathion assumed to be their own merriment.

Forelimbs extended as chest dipped once more as Wrathion stretched, wings shuffling before he righted self with a shake of his head and click of jaws. “Please, tell him we shall attend imminently.” Came his childish imitation, one that earnt him a firm shove to his shoulder and sudden bright laugh that cut through the darkness.

“Oh, shut up.”

#⥑Ω⥏ drabble.#long post/

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smoakingskye · 7 years

Text

So Runs The World Away

Chapter 2: “Time, Love” is up!

Chapter Summary: Felicity fights to come home. Oliver tries to figure out how to live without her by his side.

Read the whole story on AO3

Darkness. Pain.

Felicity shivers in the cold. She’s done something very brave but very stupid and she’s going to pay. She knew that it was a possibility, but she had to try.

She has to get home.

They come for her, and she wonders if this torture is as bad as the torture Oliver endured in those five years away. She wagers it’s not, but it feels bad enough. She’s lasted for so long, she can only hope that it was worth it.

They still need her, though, and so she doesn’t die. Not today, anyway. Tomorrow will be more of the same. Torture in the morning, strictly guarded hacking in the afternoon. She can’t keep her hands from shaking as she types, praying that the threats against her family, her wholefamily, are just threats.

Oliver won’t have stopped looking. He was gone for five years—even with the low odds of finding someone after so long, he won’t give up. She knows he won’t until he has solid proof that she’s dead.

And she’s most certainly not dead. Not yet. Hopefully, her time doesn’t run out before they find her.

March 29th, 2024

He still imagines her blonde hair spilling over the pillow in the mornings. She lies next to him in his dreams, in the moments between sleep and wake, and he can almost smell her. Sweet and soft and whole, he envisages her rolling toward him, blinking lazy eyes up at him and nuzzling into his side as she fights for five more minutes of sleep. But his hand reaches out for her and he touches only air, the dreams dissipating into the morning light as a familiar, dull ache settles in his chest

The door to the bedroom creaks open softly and little footsteps patter across the carpet to the bed. A small hand finds his arm and taps it. “Daddy. Daddy! Wake up!”

Oliver groans playfully and rolls over, grabbing his daughter around the waist and hauling her up onto the bed with him.

“Now why would I do that?” He grumbles into her neck.

She giggles as he tickles her, squirming around on the bed. “It’s dress up day at school today, ‘member?”

“Ah. Yes, I remember.” He wraps her in a bear hug and plants a kiss on top of her head. She giggles again, wiggling in his hold.

“Come on!” Pulling away, she grabs his hand to haul him from the bed. He lets her drag him to her room, where her carefully planned outfit waits. “I need you to help me with my ponytail.”

“Ok. You get dressed, I’ll make the coffee, and then I’ll do your ponytail.” He drops another kiss to her head and leaves to start breakfast. Meghan doesn’t usually get up quite this early, but today is a special day.

Their girl is Felicity’s mini-me. Everything she does reminds Oliver of his wife: they way she argues with him, how she bites her lip when she is concentrating, her rambling talk that makes sense to almost no one. She’s inherited Felicity’s brains as well, and it keeps him on his toes. He wonders (not for the first time) if it would be a good idea to let her skip a grade. She’d entered Kindergarten early, and is finishing 1st grade now, at age 5. Her endless questions are too much for him to handle, even with Donna living in town, Thea and Roy over almost every day, and Diggle and Lyla’s family always around. Barry even runs over whenever possible, Caitlin is on the phone often, answering hundreds of little girl questions, and Sara and Laurel stop by whenever possible. They are getting by, at least.

“Daddy, you’re daydreaming again.” His daughter’s voice pulls him from his thoughts as she patters into the kitchen, and he smiles at her. Light brown wavy hair and brilliant blue eyes, she is the perfect mix of the two of them, physically. He isn’t sure if he is glad or upset that her hair has darkened. She looks so much like Felicity some days that it made his head spin, and blonde hair probably wouldn’t have helped that.

“Sorry, Megsie. Let’s get that hair done, huh?”

He helps her pull it up into a high ponytail and hands her the plastic lens-less glasses that sit on the counter. She puts them on and grins at him.

“How do I look?”

Oliver swallows hard before answering. “Perfect, Meg. Just perfect.”

Meghan eats her breakfast with the toy glasses on, swinging her feet beneath her. Oliver is letting her wear her fancy shoes to class today, since it is a special occasion. She talks around bites of food, pointing out the birds feeding on the tree outside the window.

“Joey tried to catch a bird at recess yesterday. We built birdhouses and he gets as close as he can. But I think it would be funny to catch a bird with your bare hands, don’t you? The bird would probably be scared and it might start pecking you and that would hurt. But it might be cool to catch a bird.”

“How would you catch it?”

“Maybe I’d build something. I mean, we kinda already caught them, when they’re in the houses. We just don’t get to see them up close. You could build a clear birdhouse with that plastic stuff or a cage or something and then you can see them but Ms. Beckers says that the bird would be sad because it would miss it’s family if it was in a cage all the time.

“Yeah, I don’t think birds like cages much. They like to fly and be free.”

“I bet people don’t like cages either.”

“No, I’m sure they don’t.” Oliver wonders where that thought came from, but he doesn’t have to wonder long.

“I wonder if they keep Mama in a cage. I mean, not a birdcage; that would be too small. But like, a room sized cage. Or even just a room. I don’t think she’d like that much. I wouldn’t.”

“No.” Oliver’s heart constricts slightly, and he breathes around the lump of tears in his throat. The image of Felicity in a cage is not altogether new for him, but it’s even more painful coming from his daughter. An innocent child shouldn’t ever have to imagine their mother in a cage.

“When we find her, she’ll be so happy to be out of the cage, she might sing like a bird that gets set free.”

Oliver nods and swallows hard. When we find her. He knows Meghan has never given up hope of her mother coming home, and because of that, he hasn’t either. Turning to blink away tears, he pours a second cup of coffee into a traveling mug and grabs his phone as Meg caries her cereal bowl and spoon to the sink. “Let me get a picture of you, OK? Nana and Aunt Thea will want to see your outfit.”

“Uncle Digg and Aunt Lyla and Sara and JJ and Uncle Roy, too.”

“Yeah, them too.”

She grins for him, then grabs her bag from the chair next to her and bounds out to the car. Once awake, she’s a ball of energy that can’t sit still, and since she loves school and learning, nothing seems to be able to slow her down. Not a day goes by that Oliver doesn’t wish Felicity were there to help him answer all their daughter’s thoughts and questions. And, much like her mother might have, Meghan rambles the whole way to the school, turning from birds and cages to the main topic of interest that day: hero costumes.

“Ms. Beckers said that the bestest heroes are the ones that didn’t seem like heroes right away. She said we got a lot of heroes in this city, but not all of them run around with arrows at night. I thought Mama would make the bestest hero out there. Moms are good heroes but mine is the best because she protected us. Isn’t that right, Daddy? You said that she was protecting us and a lot of other people when those bad men took her, and she’s probably still protecting us today, wherever she is. Even if she is in a cage.”

Oliver grips the steering wheel a little too tightly. His knuckles turn white and he has to force his fingers to relax. “That’s right, baby.”

The security footage of Felicity being taken still haunts his mind. He’s scrubbed through it hundreds of times in hopes that there will be a hint, a clue that could lead him to her. But the most important thing is that Felicity had just finished encrypting several security codes when she was taken, security codes that protected their family, that protected the city. She stopped a group of pseudo-terrorists from killing a whole lot of people, and paid for it with her freedom.

Meghan’s right, her mother is quite possibly the biggest hero out there, even bigger than the Green Arrow. And no one will ever know.

He walks her to the door of her classroom, smiling at the other outfits. Spiderman and Captain America walk alongside little boys and girls in green or red hoodies, girls in full outfits of black, complete with blonde wigs.

“Daddy?” she tugs at his hand to stop halfway across the playground.

“Yeah, baby?”

Looking up at him, she bites her lip, then looks away, suddenly shy in a very uncharacteristically Meghan manner.

“Hey.” He drops to his knees. “What’s the matter, Megsie?”

She turns back to look him in they eye, tugging at her skirt. “Do you think… do you think she would like it?”

“Oh, baby.” He pulls her into his arms, tears clogging his throat. “Oh, Meghan, she would love it. Just like I do.”

Like that, her fears are gone. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

She enters her classroom, head held high and a smile on her face.

With a heavy heart, Oliver heads to the office. Like always, he has a long day ahead of him. When Felicity was taken, the company took a little hit, but he’s mostly gotten it back and running again. He thinks she’d be proud of the decisions he’s made over the last 3 years. Steeling himself, he walks through the door and puts on his game face. He has a meeting to get to.

January 8th, 2021

The thug screams in pain as Oliver twists his arm behind him. He’s begging for mercy, but the Arrow is not feeling generous tonight.

“I’ll give it back, I swear. I’ll give it all back. Please.”

It’s almost humorous the way he grovels, a grown man blubbering in the dirt of the alley, but Oliver doesn’t feel like laughing much. Suddenly, everything feels so empty and pointless. He drops the man onto the concrete.

“See that you do,” he growls. The man is still sobbing, cradling his arm. Oliver stalks away. He wants nothing more than to put an arrow in the guy, which doesn’t make any sense. He’s just a common street criminal, barely worth Team Arrow’s time.

But that’s the problem. They have too much time right now. Too much time, and yet not enough. Because Felicity has been missing for nearly three days now and they have absolutely no leads.

None. Nada. Zilch. ARGUS is on the case (discretely). The SCPD is on the case. Star Labs is on the case. And no one can find even an inkling of where she might have gone.

Been taken, he reminds himself. Anger bubbles in his throat. She was taken. The thought makes him want to punch something. Preferably another criminal.

His comm. cackles, and Digg’s voice cuts across the static. “Oliver? Are you there?”

“Do you have something for me?”

Distraction is the only technique he can find. During the day, he throws himself into projects at QI, and at night he finds every criminal he can and beats them to a pulp. He knows logically that it won’t bring her back, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

He’s wearing thin.

“Oliver, please just come home.”

“I can’t,” he grinds out. She was his home, and now she’s gone. His hands begin to shake, and the compassion in John’s voice nearly breaks him down right there. Instead, he closes off his emotions, clenches his hands into fists, and growls his response. “Don’t wait up for me.”

It doesn’t take long for him to find another criminal. It never does, in the Glades. This one’s a looter, probably just some random drunk guy whose buddies sent him on a dare. Oliver doesn’t care, though. He has no remorse for anyone tonight.

The guy is on the ground with his first punch, but Oliver doesn’t stop there. He kicks the man in the side. A few other guys run up, telling him to “ease up, dude, it was just a joke,” but Oliver doesn’t listen.

They’re all on the ground in seconds, only one actually trying to hold his own against the Arrow. He has the guy in a headlock when red and blue lights start flashing, but he doesn’t stop.

Policemen are shouting things, but Oliver doesn’t really hear them. A cop shines a light in his face, trying to take the man from him. Oliver drops the looter, shoving him forward so he ends up on his knees.

Someone puts a hand on his arm. Oliver jerks away, the ringing in his ears getting louder.

“Go home, son,” says a familiar voice, cutting through the haze. Oliver lifts his eyes too see Lance watching him with a sad expression.

“I can’t.”

He knows the other man understands what he means. Lance looks away for a moment before stepping very close to him. “Oliver, go home. Go back to the lair, go to your house. I don’t care, just get off the streets for a few nights. She wouldn’t want this for you.”

“Don’t tell me what she would want!” he yells. One of the other nearby policemen flinches backwards, but Lance doesn’t move an inch.

“Oliver,” he says very patiently, “If I hear of the Green Arrow taking down any more criminals for the next week, I will personally come and put you in jail until you cool off. Go. Home.”

Oliver glares at him. His hands itch to punch something, even if it is Lance himself.

“Do I need to take you there?” the Police Captain wonders aloud, reaching for his handcuffs. Oliver growls and stalks to his bike.

Digg is waiting for him in the lair. Oliver glares at his friend and strides past him. When he’s changed out of the suit, Digg is still there.

“John.” Whatever the other man has to say, he doesn’t want to hear it now.

“Oliver. You need to go home to your daughter.”

“Thea’s with her.”

“She needs her father,” Digg replies calmly. It’s the kindness in his tone that sends Oliver over the edge.

“And I need Felicity!” he explodes, exhaustion of the last few days catching up to him and causing the anger to boil over. All he can see is her frightened face in the security footage, her panicking eyes in the tape they left him.

It’s too much. He screams in anguish, overturning a cart in the room, smashing a chair against it.

Diggle watches him overturn the entire lair. When his energy is finally gone, Oliver collapses in the center of the room, burying his head in his hands. He wants to scream some more. He wants to cry.

“Please, go to Meghan, Oliver. She misses you. She needs you. And you need her.”

He raises his head slowly. “How do I move on from this? How do I live without her, Digg? She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“And she believed in you. She knew that you were good enough on your own, Oliver, if only you believed in yourself. You know that. The only reason she married you is because you finally figured that out. So you do it for her. You live how she would have wanted. You make her proud.”

“What if I can’t?”

“You try anyway. And if you try, I know she’ll be proud anyway. She loves you, Oliver, and that alone can give you strength. Besides, you aren’t alone. I’m here for you. Lyla and Thea are here for you. Sara and Laurel and Barry and Team Flash and Roy, we are all here for you.”

Oliver slowly stands to his feet.

“Besides, if you don’t, Donna might just come down here and drag you there by your ear, if her texts and phone messages are any indication.”

It’s an attempt to lighten the mood, but it only makes Oliver feel worse. Here he is, wrapped in his own grief, and Donna’s out there having lost a daughter. His heart seizes at the thought of losing Meghan and he knows just exactly what Donna must be feeling right now. He makes a mental note to call her in the morning, bidding John goodnight. It’s time for him to go home to his baby girl.

Notes:

I know this time jump probably isn't what you all were expecting, but that's just the way the story formed in my head. Hopefully it will make sense later. I know there's not a lot of Felicity yet, but that will come with time. Also, the flashback happens before the start of the first chapter, where Oliver is going through the anger stage of grief before the depressive state we saw him in. I've dated everything, but I know sometimes that gets lost in the shuffle.

In this timeline, Oliver is the CEO of QI. Felicity changed the name from PT after they were married. Oliver took over after she left, temporarily at first to keep things running while she was gone, but it's possible Thea made him take some business classes as time went on to improve his skills (so Felicity wouldn't have to do to much damage control when she returned). I think Curtis will show up at some point too now, though I haven't worked him in quite yet, and it will be some sort of tech company (instead of whatever QC was supposed to be??).

As always, Thanks for reading!

#so runs the world away #mine #arrow fic #olicity fic #my fic

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