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#or if you want to yell at me for not shooing away all the twitter users then yeah go there instead
welcome2tmblrbestie · 2 years
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WELCOME TO TUMBLR ✨ ✨
(I can't control who sees this so if you're not a new user just ignore me lol)
See unlike all the haters on this hellsite (no offense meant i love you) i recognize that tumblr.com kinda needs its userbase to increase if it's going to survive long term
anyway for that reason i've been building out this sideblog as a resource to new/returning tumblr users :)
❓ what is this blog???? you may ask
i reblog posts i come across that provide insight into Tumblr's...
history - changes in functionality and trends over time
culture - inside references, esoteric memes, and general believes
meta discourse - dialogue about the state, development, and future of this hellsite (affectionate)
anyway if you're new, consider this your welcome pamphlet.
no i'm not saying you should follow me, just that if you're so inclined, feel free to scroll until you're overwhelmed and decide it's not worth the effort and leave the website altogether wait no that's not the point of this bl--
Also just wanted to plug real quick that if you wanna filter through my reblogs, I use the following tags:
#tumblr functionality - how does tumblr work, how do you accomplish a certain task, what are its features, what are its bugs, etc.
#tumblr history - discussion/referencing events or iconic posts from tumblr's past
#tumblr etiquette - basically all those do's and don't's people keep making lists of for some reason
#tumblr culture - anything related to the nonsense we pull here (like tumblr holidays or the fact that your post gaining thousands of reblogs isn't an accomplishment but actually you being the victim of a coordinated attack)
#tumblr meta - posts about tumblr.com as a website or company, generally. if i reblog a post from staff there's a good chance it goes here.
#inside jokes/memes - i try to avoid posting these because the question of what's iconic enough to qualify is so subjective, but certain memes (eeby deeby, lil wayne's clop clop clop, do you love the color of the sky) certainly deserve to be mentioned because you will see them referenced at some point
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arhvste · 3 years
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001 MIYA ATSUMU X SHUT UP AND DRIVE SERIES
++ MSBY GARAGE
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❝ i've been looking for a driver who is qualified, so if you think that you're the one step into my ride ❞
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dt — @rintaroll
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“so, what’s it gonna take for ya to praise me a little more?”
you rolled your eyes and huffed, brushing the setters hand off your shoulder.
“shouldn’t you be more concerned about, oh i don’t know, your fans, interviews, your teammates?!” you snapped back as atsumu held both his hands up in defence.
the crowd was loud and still bustling as the black jackals most recent victory continued to stir excitement through the mass of spectators in the high stands. fans were still yelling and chanting as interviewers scrambled to grab the attention of any player they could. multiple had pried for atsumu in fact, alas, all his attention was solely focused on none other than his teams promotional manager; you.
you were chatting to the teams photographer and uploading updates and playbacks onto the teams twitter at the time the blond had bounded his way over to you and here you were, faced with the famous setter leaning on the advertisement boards lining the court diving you from him.
“miya,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you shook your head. “go and talk to some interviewers and get yourself back over to the others, i’m begging you at this point.”
“beggin’ huh?” a boyish smirk tugged at his lips and his eyes stayed locked on your own.
“not in the way your disgusting little mind is thinking of.” you shot back, stepping back from the board and looking back down at your phone where the teams twitter was currently blowing up.
atsumu snickered before standing up straight.
“whatever ya say doll, just hold up a little longer and i’m all yours again yeah?”
you scoffed and shook your head at him before shooing him away.
“i’d prefer you weren’t.”
“lyin’s a bad habit.”
“would you just go already?”
atsumu laughed as he turned to make his way back to the rest of his awaiting team. waving a hand back at you, he turned to face you before shooting a wink your way as interviewers and photographers flooded the scene.
this was a typical exchange of interaction between the two of you. ever since you had been introduced to the team as their promotional manager, atsumu had fixated his interest outside of volleyball onto you. 7 months later and nothing had changed despite his never faltering persistence.
you sighed as the photographer laughed softly before turning to his own laptop to import more photos for you to upload.
“he seems to have a soft spot for you.”
you groaned and switched your phone off, leaning back on the advertisement boards atsumu himself was previously leaning against.
“he’s such a handful.” you stated as the photographer chuckled.
“looks like he wants to be one for you though.”
“i wish he didn’t” you muttered back as the photographer smiled earnestly at you.
“i think we both know that’s a lie, we’ve been working together for a while and i don't think this dread to spend time with him is as evident as you make it out.”
you whined as you sent a soft frown his way.
“trust me, it is.”
“whatever you say.” the man teased back before clicking on the last images to send your way.
thanking him and making your way over to the teams manager and coach, you stood beside them in front of the msby boys and watched them as outlet interviewers shot questions their way.
multiple flashes went off every few seconds as each player flashed a handsome smile to the camera. you scanned over the team and bokuto was excitedly chatting and laughing with the interviewers. you smiled softly to yourself as you let your eyes wander from bokuto over to sakusa who was trying his best to avoid contact with his sweaty teammates and ‘annoying’ interviewers. it was clear he wasn’t as thrilled to be there as the others so you sent an apologetic look his way and mouthed to him he only had to put up for roughly 10 minutes more. he silently wallowed in self pity at that, but that quickly turned to agitation as atsumu dominated your vision.
slinging an arm over sakusa, (much to the latters disgust), atsumu grinned at you and flashed a smirk for a brief second before turning back to give the cameras a toothy grin.
your face dropped back into a frown as atsumu feigned hurt from a distance.
the team manager laughed as she elbowed you gently.
“interviewers might have a little more luck keeping him focused if you were the one interviewing him.”
you raised an eyebrow as you turned to face her.
“he’s like a puppy.” you stated bluntly as the manager laughed.
“a lovesick puppy.” she corrected as you faked a gag.
“why you all think he’s head over heels for me is way beyond me.”
the manager smiled before nudging for you to look at the attractive setter.
“because it's obvious. you break the boys heart every week.”
you watched as atsumu happily chatted to interviewers and forced sakusa to begrudgingly pose for photos and join in with him.
“he’s not my type.” you said as your eyes stayed focused on the blond.
“right.” the manager teased before smiling over at the team's captain, meian, her own boyfriend.
you smiled at the pair’s interaction as the team dispersed after thanking interviewers and fans for their support.
meian wandered over to the manager who happily placed a kiss to her cheek before guiding her off towards the back of the stadium, hand lingering on the small on her back.
you sighed as your own thoughts invaded your headspace. it wasn’t that you didn’t want a boyfriend. you just hadn’t met anyone worth the time yet.
well, that was your go to excuse to tell everyone anyway. the truth was, you didn't even know the limits to your own standards, you just knew they were high when looking for a potential partner.
the feeling of a heavy arm slung over your shoulder forced you back into reality as your eyes flickered up in surprise.
“miss me?” the hot breath and familiar voice teased the shell of your ear as you scowled.
“you wish.” you snapped back as you attempted to duck out of your offender's grip.
“ah-ah, yer coming home with me today.” atsumu smirked confidently as you hissed at him to get off.
“says who?” you argued as the setter looked down at you smugly.
“me.” another voice joined the conversation as you turned to face the owner of it.
your eyes met the coach who was looking at you slightly sympathetically.
“huh?”
“sorry,” the coach began, hand holding the back of his neck. “i know i said i’d take you home, but my wife has some errands she needs me to pick up before getting home and i’d hate to have to drag you along with me this late at night.”
you groaned but nodded understandably.
“luckily, atsumu here was kind enough to offer to be your ride back home.”
“lucky me.” your voice dripping with thick sarcasm as atsumu ignored it.
“yeah, lucky you indeed. do ya know how many girls would kill to be in yer position right now?” atsumu teased, arm still firmly made at home around your shoulders.
“let them kill me.” you glared at him as he gasped playfully.
“ya don’t mean that.”
“i do.”
“you don’t.”
“just take me home already i’m tired!” you threw your arms up as atsumu grinned.
“sure, give me a few minutes to grab my stuff and i’ll meet you round the back of the building, yeah?”
“whatever.”
you made your way towards the back exit of the stadium and were met with other members of support for the team who were waiting for the boys to grab their things from the locker rooms. some players opted to shower after matches while others waited til they got back home. atsumu fell into the category of players who waited until they got home. this was both a blessing and a curse. you wouldn’t have to wait for him for too long, but you would be met with a sweaty atsumu.
this wasn’t technically a bad thing, atsumu had a habit of getting rid of the smell after each match with an expensive cologne you’d never even attempt to pronounce, but he happened to somehow be a little more attractive when he looked worn out and disheveled. you hated yourself for thinking such a thing but you just couldn’t help it. he was annoyingly attractive and it made his personality a little more dislikable in your opinion.
you waited for around 10 minutes before you were met with boisterous laughter ringing through the spacious lounge by the exit.
atsumu and bokuto came striding out from the hall directing towards the locker rooms, gym bags in their hands and ruggish hair that would need taming again eventually.
you sighed as you waited for atsumu to approach you. he bid his goodbyes to everyone and sent a look at bokuto's way. the ace held a thumbs up at atsumu as the others in the lounge looked at each other giggling and smiling smugly.
you raised an eyebrow but shrugged it off as you felt a hand find its way on your waist.
“let’s get going then.” his voice strumming chords through your body as you shivered slightly.
atsumu led you out and down towards the underground garage used by players and staff members whilst at the stadium. you’d never actually seen atsumu’s car before so you had no idea what to be looking for, but atsumu’s hand remained firmly on your waist as he led you over to an array of expensive cars. mentally trying to guess what car belonged to the setter, atsumu watched with a small smirk etched on his face as your eyes scanned along each car. keys hooked around his finger, atsumu pressed the unlock button as your jaw dropped slightly.
of fucking course.
miya atsumu was the proud owner of a jet black 2021 chevrolet corvette with the number plate gracing it in all its glory ‘MIY4 13’.
you scoffed as atsumu’s smirk widened.
“so, ya gettin in or what?”
“into what? my one way invitation to death?”
atsumu snickered as he led you over to the passengers seat.
“i won’t kill ya, i promise.”
you looked back at him, handsome and sharp features making your eyes soften.”
“well, it’s not like i’ll be able to yell at you if you break that promise.”
“exactly.” atsumu grinned as you climbed into the luxury vehicle. the soft leather padding of the seats welcoming you as your weight shifted onto them.
you glanced around the interior as your eyes were met upon. various lit buttons caught your attention as a screen switched on as atsumu opened the drivers door. you were certain the car had way too many features but that’s what made it a luxury vehicle you guessed. the sleek black and red complimented interior was admired by you as atsumu watched your eyes dance around the car. his eyes softened as you visably relaxed a little more. your hand hooked across the firmly threaded seatbelt as you pulled it around you.
you looked at atsumu who’s smirk seemed to have faded. instead, a soft grin was painted across his face as he helped you click the belt securely in place.
“don’t kill me miya.”
“i’ll do my best.” he winked at you before pressing the start engine.
mentally chanting your last prayers, you accepted the position fate had put you in and did your best to stop the stirring of butterflies in your chest as atsumu placed his hand on the back of your headrest and pulled out.
well fuck.
as if he wasn’t attractive enough before, he sure as hell was now. your eyes widened and heart picked up it’s pace as the scent of atsumu’s signature cologne flooded your senses.
his sharp jaw and focused eyes, pointed in the direction of the rear window as he successfully pulled the car out the space. moving his hand back onto the wheel, atsumu turned to smirk at you as you gave him a pleading look. before you could open your mouth to speak, the setter slammed on the accelerator and the engines picked up its volume as your head was thrown back a little as the car sped out the garage exit.
“you little shit!” you cussed out as atsumu laughed as you sped onto the highway through the city.
“ya love the thrill don’t lie.”
“i’m not lying!” you protested as the flashes of bright lights flew past the window.
atsumu smiled as his right hand found its place on the middle of your thigh.
“miya!” you hissed as atsumu tilted his head momentarily your direction.
“ya can call me atsumu ya know?”
“i don’t want to!”
“for such a genuine person, yer so full of shit sometimes.”
you huffed as you gave up letting atsumu’s touch encourage the stir inside of you. you turned and glared out the window at the passing scene as atsumu hummed in satisfaction.
a few more moments of comfortable silence went by, nothing but the sounds of cars zooming past and the soft hum of atsumu’s own car’s engine.
you frowned and bit the corner of your lip as you peaked towards the blond whose eyes were fixed on the road.
“so,” you began, resulting in the player's eyes to flicker your way for a millisecond. “why are you so hooked on me?” you questioned.
you held your breath as you finally voiced the concern that had been playing on your mind for a while. you rarely had moments of privacy with the man despite his infatuation and demand to be around you.
“am i not allowed to be?” he challenged teasingly as he sqeezed your thigh slightly.
you wanted to force his grip off of you, you really did, but something about it felt so natural you just couldn't.
“miya.” you sighed and shook your head.
“atsumu.” he corrected as you turned to face him properly.
“look, you’re just my type. that’s all there is to it.” he replied simply,as if it was no big deal to him.
“and just what exactly is your type?” you quizzed as you pulled up at a traffic light.
slowing the car to stop for a while the light was red, atsumu turned his face to look at your own before he flashed that boyish grin you’d unknowingly grown rather fond of.
“you.”
and with that, the world threw you back into fast motion as the green light flashed, highlighting his face before he hit the acceleration again making your eyes widen.
“atsumu…” you sighed quietly as the adrenaline brought more life into his eyes.
it wasn’t that you hated atsumu. it wasn’t that at all. he was just someone you didn’t see yourself seriously with. someone so out there and demanding of the world. you had always envisioned yourself with someone a little more down to earth, someone with a stable job with a lowkey personal life, a person who took life at a comfortable pace. you had never seriously considered being with someone like miya atsumu. someone who demanded the world's attention, dominated every scene he was put in, who took life at the speed the highest the accelerator would go. someone so big, so bright. you never imagined someone like miya atsumu would take interest in someone like you. you were opposites stuck in an entanglement of professional lives.
out of every person in the world, the universe had decided miya atsumu would become the man who ticked the boxes to your unknown standards. you just hated to acknowledge it.
pulling off the highway, atsumu drove through the less busy roads as your apartment complex came into vision. half of you wanted the ride to be a little longer, but the other half of you couldn’t wait to lock yourself in your apartment away from the man who caused turmoil inside of you.
atsumu hummed as he pulled around the back of your complex. the roads were quiet and the soft lights of other buildings gleamed off the vehicle as the golden light flooded through the tinted glass of the windows, pulling attention to the boyish, but charming features of his face.
you sighed as he pulled the car to a stop and let the engine settle down. you stayed like that for a moment as the two of you sat there packed in the quiet parking lot.
“listen, I meant it, i really do like you.” he said as you studied his eyes for any signs of him being ingenuine; you couldn't find any.
your eyes softened as you leaned on the headboard.
“miy- atsumu.” you began quietly as his eyes admired your form. “it’s not that i don’t like you or anything, it's just- i don’t know if you’re my type.” you confessed as your heart hammered against your chest.
“well, you just called me by my first name, that’s gotta count for something right?”
you looked up at him and locked your eyes into his honest ones. you sat up and turned to face him as he took both of your hands into his.
“look, i get it, i’ve been annoying since day one-”
“-annoying is an understatement.” you cut in as atsumu playfully glared at you.
“rude. anyways as i was saying, i might’ve come across as a little too strong from the start, but there's just somethin’ about you. i just can’t seem to leave ya alone.” the blond confessed honestly as his warm, calloused hands held yours tightly.
“atsumu, i just don’t know.” you shook your head as he held onto your hands tightly. “i just don’t know what i’m looking for.”
“let me help ya find it in me then.” he pleaded softly, a small grin tugged at his lips.
you cast your eyes down to where your hands were being connected by him. the stir in your chest sped up as your heart was slamming against your chest at this point.
“atsumu i just-”
cutting you off, atsumu pulled your hands away from each other as he moved one up towards your jaw to cradle your face gently. dark golden eyes melting at the sight of you close up, atsumu pulled your face in closer to his and your heart just wouldn’t let you pull away. his lips finally met your own after what felt like an eternity and it was if yours were made to fit against his.
his hand moved towards the back of your neck as he encouraged you to move closer. you leaned closer letting your own hand find its way against atsumu’s broad chest.
the kiss deepened as you gave access to the setter’s tongue as he dominated your movements. small gasps and whines were heard in the silence of the parking lot as neither of you had it in your to pull away. atsumu’s hand was securely at the back of your neck with the other gripping your waist as you groaned at the slightly uncomfortable position.
pulling away, the two of you breathed heavily as you leaned back in the expensive leather seat as atsumu stared at you softly.
“what the fuck was that?”
“our first kiss as a couple.” atsumu teased but failed to stop the wide smile spread across his face.
“who said anything about being a couple?” you shot back as atsumu found your hand once more, lacing your fingers together tightly.
“your body language. you kissed back.”
“i-”
“msby setter miya atsumu as yer boyfriend, wow, arent’cha just the luckiest!”
you playfully hit his chest as he laughed.
“keep it up and that’ll be ex-boyfriend.”
atsumu’s eyes lit up as he grabbed your hand again and held it tightly.
“so ya admit it! i’m yer boyfriend!”
you giggled seeing how genuinely excited he was over it.
“for now.” you hummed as he pouted slightly.
you cupped his jaw and leaned to press a soft kiss to his cheek causing heat to rise to his face.
“let’s just, take this slow though okay?”
“don’t tell me that while sittin’ in this car.” he joked as you groaned against him.
you leaned back looking back into his bright eyes as his gaze softened.
“i’m kiddin’, we’ll go as fast as ya want, and i promise not to kill you on the way.”
you snickered as the blond beamed at you.
“i’m holding you to that.” you smiled as atsumu pulled your face in closer once more. leaning forward to better prepare yourself, you allowed yourself to melt into another deep kiss with the man you would now call your boyfriend.
you never saw yourself being with someone who took life at a fast pace. someone who demanded the world’s attention without verbally calling for it. you never saw yourself falling for someone like that.
but here you were, with the man who ticked all of those boxes easily. the type of man you insisted wasn’t your type, turned out to be the blueprint for your exact type; you just weren’t aware of it until miya atsumu insisted you did.
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++TAGLIST! @crescenttooru @miss-angel-ash @sarahvvictoria @babierin @fxncyoomi @s0utien @toobsessedsstuff @omibaby @kenkodzu @sugabeaniee @lovesunas @slutawara @bunny-on-crack @shouyouorange @memorableminds @whootwhoot @yikes-buddy @sweetsamus
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hyungieyoongi · 3 years
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Spotlight: “Run Away to You” Part 3
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You knew it was just a matter of time before someone figured it out.
Your carefully constructed reality was about to shatter.
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader
Word Count: 2.0K
Genre: Angst + Fluff (there’s a hug and everything there is fluff on the horizon!!)
Series Masterlist: Run Away to You
Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.
Part 2 // Part 4
---
You blinked your eyes a few times to adjust to the brightness of the morning as the sunlight streamed into your room through the crack in your curtains. Your eyelids felt heavy with exhaustion. Glancing at the clock on your nightstand, you let out an audible groan at the time. It was 9:30 a.m., meaning you had slept for four short hours, your brain and restless thoughts refusing to let you sleep until the early hours of the morning.  
After you were finally able to stop the onslaught of tears last night, you sat with Marianne on your carpet and told her everything that happened: colliding with Yoongi at the corner store, the fight in your apartment, and how he comforted you during your panic attack. When she asked about the phone call from your old number, you simply played her the last voicemail Yoongi left you, letting his words sink in on their own.
“Shit,” Marianne breathed out.
“Tell me about it,” you agreed.
Your head was pounding, making you feel like you were suffering a hangover this morning from the lack of sleep combined with the many tears you cried. You went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, hoping the scalding hot water would burn away the memories of everything that had transpired.
You decided to avoid looking at either one of your phones, old or new, when you got out and dressed. Instead, you decided to try and convince your neighbor to let you take her dog on a walk. You desperately needed some company and fresh air to clear your head.
Donning the black hat on the hook by the door this time, you locked the door behind you. At the end of the hallway, you spotted your neighbor holding her little black pug in her arms, peering slightly over the railing at the end that looked out onto the sidewalk and street below.
“Hi there, good morning! What’s going on?” you asked, hoping your attempt at cheerfulness was convincing.
“You have to see this. There are cameras all over the place! The landlord had to come to shoo them from the stairwell and elevator this morning. Apparently, someone famous was sighted here yesterday, and now they’re looking for someone they say lives here? It’s quite the scene down there,” Susan let her pug down as she told you the news. He came bounding over to you, expecting to be showered with cuddles and kisses. Instead, you stood frozen in place, taking in everything Susan had just said.
“Cameras? There are cameras down there? In front of the building?” you asked.
“Yes, dear, isn’t that strange? I wonder if we have a celebrity in our midst!”
You let out a cough, giving Susan a fake excuse that you forgot a jacket so you could leave, ignoring her pug yapping at you for attention.
You were back in your apartment before Susan could question your odd behavior, grabbing your phone that you blatantly ignored when you woke up this morning.
You opened Twitter, going straight to the trending page.
The picture at the top of the list was blurry, but you could clearly make out two figures. It was a picture of you and Yoongi, walking to your apartment from the store. It looked like it had been taken on a phone camera, probably from the park across the street. Someone had to have recognized Yoongi, and now, there were cameras outside your apartment complex.
The picture causing a frenzy didn’t show your face, your hair covering your profile. You scrolled rapidly through some of the comments, people speculating about who the “mystery girl” was that Yoongi was with yesterday.
You knew it was just a matter of time before someone figured it out.
Your carefully constructed reality was about to shatter.
---
Yoongi’s phone was vibrating nonstop on the bed next to him. He tried to ignore it, shoving his face further under the thick comforter, hoping whoever was trying to reach him would just give up eventually.
When it started to vibrate incessantly once again, he finally glanced at the screen, fully prepared to yell at whoever woke him up.
An old picture of you filled his screen, one that Yoongi took when you first started seeing each other. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder after a long day of filming. You looked so at peace, one of his sweaters that you stole from his closet wrapped around your frame. He had snapped a photo, setting it as your contact photo, smiling at it every time you called.
He had never changed it.
Yoongi immediately sat up when he realized you were calling. He assumed he would never hear from you again, that the chapter between you two was officially closed. This time for good.
He answered on the third ring, but didn’t say anything, waiting to see if the call was an accident.
“…Yoongi?” his heart lurched at the sound of his name.
“Yes?” he asked tentatively, his voice rough with sleep.
“I need help. There’s a picture…of us. Together. I tried to call Marianne, but she didn’t answer. Yoongi, I…I don’t know what to do. I need help,” Yoongi waited, holding his breath, “I need you.”
He threw the covers off himself, already heading toward the door of his bedroom. You sounded so scared.
“I’ll come get you. Tell me where you are.”
---
Yoongi had given you careful instructions over the phone, his voice calm and calculated. You were supposed to wait in your apartment until exactly 10:30 a.m. and head down the back staircase to the alley behind your building. A car would be waiting for you there.
He told you to wear a mask and act casual, like you were just getting into a rideshare car. Be invisible and inconspicuous.
A black SUV was idling in your alleyway. You opened the backseat door on the driver’s side, shutting it quickly behind you.
“Miss Y/L/N?” the driver asked, turning around to face you. He had a kind smile, eyes slightly crinkling in the corners from his upturned lips. You nodded once.
“Good morning, I’ll be driving you to Mr. Min’s location. He requested that we send this particular vehicle because the windows are tinted for maximum security. Please make yourself comfortable.”
“Thank you,” you said, relieved.
Despite the driver’s assurance, you turned your head away from the window as the car passed the hoard of photographers outside of your building. They seemed to be getting restless with the lack of people coming in and out of your complex. You were grateful to be heading as far away from there as possible.
The car eventually reached a gate, the security guard waving the car forward once it checked the license plates. You pulled into an underground garage. You weren’t familiar with the building; you figured that Yoongi and the boys had moved within the last year as their label continued to grow.
The driver cleared his throat to get your attention.
“Mr. Min would like you to take the elevator, the one just there, ma’am,” he said pointing to the nearest set of silver doors, “to floor 16. He will meet you there.”
“Thank you, you honestly saved me today,” you told him with a grateful smile. He gave you another crinkle-eyed grin.
“It’s nothing, really. Give my regards to Mr. Min.”
“I will.”
The elevator lurched upward toward floor 16, and you realized you had no idea what to say to Yoongi. The doors opened, and you were startled when the man in question was pacing in front of the elevator doors, looking frazzled as he evidently waited for your arrival.
His head snapped toward the open doors when he heard the “bing” of the elevator.
“You made it,” he said simply when you walked toward him.
“Thanks to you,” you replied. “Yoongi, I can’t thank you enough. I know this is the last thing you probably expected today, but I appreciate it more than I can tell you.”
If you weren’t mistaken, there was a pink tinge on his cheeks at your words.
“We have a strategy meeting to get to. The label has some, uh, concerns about the photo.”
Your heart sank at his words, but you realized it was time to stop letting your emotions about the situation run the show. You were potentially going to be forced back into the spotlight you had tried so hard to stay away from. It was time to be professional about this.
“Right. Of course, lead the way,” your tone had become formal, sickly sweet and stiff. It felt unbelievably awkward after spilling your heart out to him yesterday. But you knew your place–you were just part of his label’s damage control problems for the day.
He turned on his heel, leading you down the long hallway, shoes clicking against the tile floor. You followed a foot behind him, wanting to give him, and you, space.
In the meeting, you gritted your teeth, your hands balled into fists underneath the table as you listened to a group of label management and the public relations team discuss what messaging, if any, to put out. Would it be better to let it die down on its own? Release a statement saying Yoongi was visiting an “acquaintance”? There were dozens of options they went through. Yoongi’s eyes kept straying to look at you, but your eyes stayed on the clock above the PR analyst’s head across from you.
When they started discussing whether to release your identity, however, you decided enough was enough. You stood, Yoongi watching your every move.
“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but I would feel more comfortable if my publicist was contacted before any decisions are made regarding the release of my private information,” you had worked in this industry, too, and hell, you weren’t going to let these people dictate your life. “As you can imagine, this has the potential to have far-reaching consequences on my own livelihood. It would be best to take no further action until she is in this room with you. Otherwise, I will be forced to contact my attorney.”
The room was silent.  
“Until then, I’ll take my leave. Thank you,” you left with a flourish, the adrenaline leaving you as soon as you made it into the hallway. You didn’t know where you were going, you just couldn’t stay still, your feet carrying you away from the room and the murmurs going on inside of it.
“Y/N, wait,” Yoongi called after you. You sped up, hoping there was a bathroom or something nearby that you could go hide in until Marianne showed up. “Stop walking,” Yoongi’s voice was stern.
You paused mid-step, turning to face him with a blank expression.
“Yes, was there an update from your strategy meeting since I left?” Yoongi rolled his eyes at your comment.
“Y/N, stop, I know what you’re doing. You’re shutting yourself off. I don’t blame you for standing up for yourself back there. But please don’t act like I wanted any part of that meeting,” Yoongi said, defending himself. Your confidence deflated slightly.
“Fine,” you flinched at how harsh you sounded. “I’m sorry. God, all I’ve said to you in the past 24 hours is ‘I’m sorry.’ And I am. I just…this is all…it’s a lot. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, let alone under these circumstances.”
“My studio is a few floors below us. Come on, let’s get out of here while they figure it out,” Yoongi instructed. He walked past you, but you reached out, hand encircling his wrist to stop him. Your skin burned where it touched his.
“I wasn’t ready for any of this again. It’s all too much, too soon. If people find out who I am, my whole life will change, Yoongi. I-I don’t know if I can handle that.” Yoongi didn’t say anything, so you pulled your fingers away from his arm, expecting him to continue on his way to his studio.
Instead, he wrapped you tightly in his arms, pulling you close against him. He smelled like mint and coffee, and you closed your eyes at the familiarity of it, warmth blooming in your chest.
“It’ll be okay,” Yoongi mumbled, cheek pressed against the top of your head.
Enclosed in the comfort of his embrace, you decided to believe him.
Part 2 // Part 4
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Taglist: @loveyoongles @agustd-2020 @delacyrose224 @crispychanniee @sunshinejunghoseokie @jinsearthh @alpacaparkaseok @sheebaba @diamonddia-mond​
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corysmiles · 3 years
Note
tiny streamer au angst: tubbo, tommy, wilbur, and phil get recognized on their own a fair amount, but the four of them all together has lead to a lot of fans. tommy gets a bit overwhelmed with so many big people
omg yes I didn’t even think about how fan interactions would go but it gives so much angst opportunities :]
Little Streamer AU hurt/comfort
cw// language, (cut for length purposes)
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It wasn’t uncommon for the sleepy bois to be recognized on their own but now that they had talked about their meetup on Twitter some people were going out of their way to try to meet them.
They all loved seeing fans of course, but Tommy hadn’t really realized just how few of his fans were actually tiny.
He thought people knew about his size and that people who watched him were the same, but when people approached them looking for him specifically and they were 100x taller than he was, he started to feel a little queezy.
Tommy usually didn’t mind human’s but as more and more people showed up to see him he started to feel weird under their studying gaze.
With his friends it was fine but when people tried to grab him out of Wilbur’s hand or touch him for photos he got overwhelmed.
However, his bigger friends didn’t even seem to notice or care, they just posed for pictures with their fans and let Tommy be manhandled by people he didn’t even know. Tommy tried to be okay with it he really did, but sometimes they squeezed just a bit too hard or moved too fast and it made him want to curse them out until they dropped him.
It was when they were at the beach that Tommy finally broke down. They were hanging out and talking when a somewhat small group of fans came up out of nowhere.
They were pretty young and looked kind enough, but as soon as Phil greeted them one of them squeaked at Tommy and pulled him out of Wilbur’s hands.
“Awe Tommy you’re popular,” Phil chuckled as Tommy was cooed at by the young girl.
He vaguely heard his friends laugh at him but Tommy could barely breathe as he was touched. Her prodding fingers and bright smile filled him with overwhelming fear.
His mind was cycling through panicked thoughts while trying to push the hands away. His whole body yelling at him that he wasn’t safe.
He felt the fingers squeeze around him and he let out a weak cry as his friends continued to pose for pictures.
His breathing became forced while the laughter around him got louder and louder and he felt himself being not so gently shoved into another one of the fan’s hands.
“Hey I think he’s crying,” he heard a soft voice warn and immediately the laughter came to halt. He felt his body be shifted into another pair of hands and pulled his legs close to himself with a sob.
“Toms are you alright?”
It was Wilbur.
He knew his friend wouldn’t hurt him and that he was safe in his gentle hold, but the warm feeling of skin underneath him did nothing to soothe his fear.
“Please...put me down Wil,” Tommy whispered.
Wilbur raised in his eyebrows in shock at the teen and whispered out a small “huh?”
Tommy tried to push Wilbur’s hands away from him and cried, “Put me down...please put me down.”
Vaguely he heard Tubbo shoo away the fans before he was gently placed down onto the beach chair Phil had brought with them. The thin colorful fabric felt so much nicer than the hot skin of human hands.
“What’s wrong Tommy are you okay?” Phil asked cautiously as he knelt down in front of the shaking boy.
“It’s too much...,” Tommy whispered quietly, “I- they were touching me and I- I just...”
“Oh mate,” Phil sighed as he stood up from the sand.
Tommy saw blurs of movement through his watery vision until something stilled in front of him. When his eyes were finally clear enough he saw that Wilbur was sitting on the sand in front of the chair, staring at Tommy nervously.
“...I’m sorry Toms,” Wilbur sighed, “we should’ve noticed that you didn’t like that shit.”
Tommy nodded slowly but still sat stiff on the chair.
“We shouldn’t have let them touch you, I know I wouldn’t have liked that,” Wilbur muttered, “I’ll make sure no one else does that...I promise.”
Wilbur was met by a sad smile from the tiny before he held his hand out tentatively.
The teen eyed him cautiously but reached his hands forward to pull the large hand into a hug. Wilbur just let him lean against it, not closing his fingers over the boy like he usually would.
“I’m sorry for being so sensitive big man,” Tommy whispered.
Wilbur shook his head with a tight frown, “No don’t apologize for that shit. You’re allowed to have boundaries, you know.”
Tommy nodded absentmindedly before reaching out a hand towards Wilbur’s thumb, pulling it towards him so the human’s fingers were covering his body.
Instead of the overwhelming heat from before, the hand felt calming and safe.
“Is this okay Toms?” Wilbur asked softly.
The only response he received was Tommy snuggling into the side of his hand, which he took as a sign to wrap his other hand around him. Like this he could keep Tommy safe from the world, anyone who wished to hurt his brother, intentionally or not, would have to get through Wil first.
“I’ll keep you safe Toms,” he comforted, “I promise.”
He pulled Tommy close to himself while the teen curled up in his hands. A small hand patted Wilbur’s palm appreciatively.
“Thank you,” Tommy whispered with a warm smile, “...Dickhead.”
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blazedgraysons · 4 years
Text
Love Don’t Cost A Thing
Grayson buys you a car, Twitter stans are mean, and Grayson’s really good at making you feel better. 
A/N: this is part 1 of fics I wrote a month ago, forgot about and finally finished. this started out as a simple fluff and idk what happened. also let’s pretend that Grayson still has a wrapped porsche because I could totally see him wanting to match. 
Word Count: 3K
Warnings: horribly written smut and a lot ofme pretending I know about nice cars
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God, some bitches will do anything for clout nowadays.
Honestly, when will Gray wake up and realize she’s just with him for his money?
What a fucking gold-digger.
Gold-digger.
That word rings around your head as you continue to scroll through the replies from Grayson’s latest tweet, each one nastier than the last. You sniffle, wiping your tears and locking your phone, before turning to look at your boyfriend through the bedroom window. He’s outside talking to Ethan excitedly over a car, not just any car but a 2021 Porsche 911. A car he bought just for you.
He had approached you earlier this afternoon with a broad grin. As easily excitable as he is, this didn’t feel out of the ordinary to you, so you simply raise an eyebrow while continuing to sip your coffee.
“Are you finished with your final yet, Y/N ?” He whispers out of caution that you might still be testing.
“Two more questions, then I’m all yours baby. What’s wrong?” A sense of worry washes over you since you know he wouldn’t interrupt you unless it’s crucial. He’d grown accustomed to your new routine since the pandemic began. After asking (begging) for you to quarantine with him, he soon realized that the time he thought you two would spend together was taken up by quizzes, essays, and exams as you finished up your senior year of college. While he was more than willing to take second-place to your studies, he was a little antsy for you to be finished.
“Nothing. I just wanted to show you something out in the shed.” Now, this you do roll your eyes at. While you were occupied with studies, he was out in that godforsaken tiny shed almost every day. Secretly, you were glad Ethan had foregone the bed idea because that was the only thing getting him to come to bed to you every night. You assure you’ll be out in a few minutes and shoo him away to finish the test that will ensure your bachelors.
Only twenty minutes later, you feel as if a crushing weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. You crack your neck before sighing and closing your laptop, elated that the four years of your undergrad were finally behind you. You pull out your phone before remembering your promise to Grayson. You walk out the back kitchen doors and turn the corner, not expecting what was behind it.
Your mouth drops. Sitting in front of you is a shiny, white Porsche complete with a giant red bow on the hood. Your boyfriend sits on top of the back seats, dressed in a blue button-down and black slacks. Grayson’s beaming as he holds a bouquet of roses out towards you. You try to think of something, willing anything to come to your brain, but shock leaves you speechless so you start tearing up instead.
Grayson, mistaking your tears for anger or sadness, is by your side in a minute.
“Angel, what’s wrong? Do you not like it? I wanted to wrap it to match mine, but Ethan said it was a bad idea. But- but we can always go to the dealer and switch it out if you don’t like it or I can -“ He stammers, immediately worried that he had disappointed you. You cut him off with a deep kiss, relieving any worry that was flying through his brain as he grabs your waist to hold you closer.
“No, it’s perfect. You’re perfect. Everything’s perfect. But why?” You question.
“Well, I wanted to do something special for you since you finished school today. And since we can’t travel anywhere, I figured this was the next best thing. You’ve worked so hard these past four years, Angel; I just wanted to show you how proud I am of you and how much I love you.” He explains, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Your heart melts at this. While you had expected maybe a five-star dinner and hopefully some marathon sex, you had no idea your boyfriend would do something so extravagant for you. Never in your wildest dreams did you believe someone would care for you like this, and adoration begins to fill your entire being.
“Grayson, I- I don’t know what to say.” You’re astounded, and every time you look at the car, you’re speechless again.
“Hopefully that you like it. It was kind of expensive.” He jokes, now reassured that your silence is a good thing and not out of anger. You swat his chest before wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. Just as his hands start to slip towards your ass, you pull away from him.
“Thank you, Grayson. For the car, for letting me stay here, for everything. I don’t deserve you-“
“Don’t start with that.” He cuts you off, leaning in so your foreheads are touching, “You do plenty for me, and if we’re honest, I don’t deserve you. You’re beautiful, intelligent, funny. There’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for you, and you can’t change that.” Before you can even respond, you notice Ethan making his way out through the back door.
“Yo, what are you two still doing out here? Don’t you have reservations at six?” He yells out, towel over his shoulder and obviously not expecting the two of you to be interrupting his future tanning session. You turn back to your boyfriend, confused as Grayson sighs exasperatedly and looks up to the sky.
“I haven’t told her about that yet, dickhead.” Grayson yells back to his brother.
“Well, can you hurry up? I want to lay out for a bit, and the weather app says it’s supposed to rain at four.” Ethan asks. You can’t help but giggle, knowing Ethan’s just oblivious to the very intimate moment you and Grayson were having. Grayson huffs, annoyed that his brother is ruining his plan before turning to you.
“I booked us reservations at Il Cielo.” Your eyes widen at the mention of your favorite restaurant.
“But how? It’s been booked for weeks. We couldn’t even get in for my birthday.” You question.
“The owner’s daughters are fans, so I promised a couple pictures tonight in order to get a table. Now go get dressed, we can take your car if you want.” He explains. Images of you two dressed up while Grayson drives the new Porsche fills your mind and you slightly shiver. Grayson, raising an eyebrow to your reaction, leans down for another kiss with you. Right when Grayson’s tongue enters your mouth is when you hear the fake-retching coming from the other twin.
“Bro, go away!” Grayson groans, holding you closer to him. You’re both leaned up against the car as you turn to watch the interaction between the two siblings.
“Fine. But first, let me get a picture of the happy couple. You’d kill me if you didn’t get to flex how good of a boyfriend you are.” He says, grabbing his phone. Grayson moves to argue, but you silence him, posing for the camera instead. You both smile, looking happier and more in love with each other then you’ve ever been. And you can’t help smiling wider when you see the tag and pictures on Twitter.
It only took a few minutes before the hate comments started flooding in. You had set your phone down for a quick shower but returned to notification after notification. It was non-stop dm’s, tweets, and even responses to IG photos from 2016 about how you weren’t good enough for Grayson, how you were just using him, and how he would eventually find someone better.
Usually, you could just ignore it, turn your phone off and turn a blind eye to the negativity spewed at you. But you were already emotionally overwhelmed, and you couldn’t help the small part of you that agreed. What had you done to deserve a man who could drop thousands of dollars on you at a whim? You weren’t impressive, weren’t an influencer or a model, just an average girl who managed to catch his eye.  
Your phone screen starts to blur as tears form in your eyes. You try to stop the burning feeling in your throat. Still, fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks onto the screen as you start sniffling, falling victim to your deepest insecurities. You were so caught up in yourself that you hadn’t even noticed Grayson making his way down the hall.
“Y/N, are you almost ready? We have to leave for the restaurant soon.” He yells towards his room, making his way to you before noticing your sobs. You look up at him before sniffling again, feeling sorry that he had to see you like this.
“What's wrong, Angel?” He asks gently, moving to sit next to you on the edge of the bed. He wraps an arm around your bare shoulder, careful not to move the towel you had wrapped around you from your shower.
“Nothing, it’s nothing. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready.” You attempt to reassure, moving to wipe the tears from your eye. You wince, noticing how unbelievable you sound even to yourself, and you can already tell Grayson is unconvinced.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He asks. You nod, not meeting his eyes, looking down at your lap instead. He softly grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his intense stare. “So, what’s wrong?”
“God, it’s really nothing. Some fans on Twitter had just tweeted me some stuff and -“ Before you could even finish, he’s grabbing his phone to look at the replies, nostrils flaring as he reads what fans had mentioned you in.
“It’s honestly nothing, G. I was just being overdramatic.” You promise, wanting to drop it at this point and continue with the perfect day you two were having.
He’s silent for a second, which worries you more than anything since he always has something to say. You rub his thigh, trying to comfort him before he grabs your hand.
“You know none of that is true. There is no one better, never will be. My future begins and ends with you.” He whispers, sounding even more hurt than you. You stare at him widely, dumbfounded at the bold confession Grayson just dropped on you. Taking your silence as disbelief, he moves your hand towards his mouth so he can start kissing your wrist.
“Believe me when I say, Y/N, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. “ He growls, dropping your wrist to move in front of you. “What can I do to get that through your head?”
With that, he grabs your head roughly, bringing you into a hot kiss. You immediately whimper, wrapping your hands around his neck to pull him closer to you. His tongue slides against yours desperately as he rips your towel off you, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder.
You pull away from each other, panting with desire and trying to catch your breath as Grayson goes down to suck warm, wet kisses onto your neck.
Moaning his name, you move to unbutton his shirt shakily while he continues to move down your neck to your chest. You shrug his shirt off before scratching your nails down his chest as he takes one nipple into his mouth.
Twirling the other nipple in his fingers, you arch into him before he’s switching to the other one and repeating this process. He continues like that for a while until you moan and whimper underneath him, trying to grind up into his lap.
“Grayson, please. Touch me.” You mewl, hips bucking when he drags a finger through your slit. Grayson sucks the mess off his finger before looking down at you darkly, hazel eyes turning a deep brown. He kneels down, spreading your legs and placing his large hands on your hips to hold you down. He places soft, open mouth kisses on the apex of your thighs and meets your gaze before speaking again -
“Mine. You’ll always be mine. Nothing can change that.” He promises. You clench around nothing, feeling like you could cum just from his words of reassurance. He notices how you react and sharply inhales.
“Fuck, so pretty.” He breaths out, and you’re not even sure you’re supposed to hear that, watching Grayson lose himself in the desire to express how deep his love runs for you.
He spreads your lips apart with two fingers before licking at your clit softly. He licks it again before pulling you towards him with a long, slow lick watching as you fall apart.
You already knew this was going to take no time on your end, but watching his intense gaze on you causes you to produce more and more wetness, to the point where you feel like you’re leaking onto the mattress.
He stops at your clit, circling it a few times with his tongue before taking it into his mouth. He suckles on it, watching as you fall back onto the mattress with a high pitch whine.
“Grayson.” You moan shakily, moving to get closer to his mouth.
You start rolling your hips onto his face, grabbing your tits to ground yourself somehow. Your moaning consistently now, not knowing how else to convey how good he’s making you feel other than with high-pitched sounds.
He places his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to him, and starts making out with your pussy, savoring every sweet drop that comes out of you. He sucks harder before pulling back and rubbing at your clit with two fingers.
“So good, Angel. Perfect for me.” He gasps, lips swollen and red. His mouth is dripping, and he shakily runs a hand through his hair before diving back in.
He focuses on your clit this time, sucking hard while reaching to slide two fingers inside of you. He drags them back and forth, feeling you clenching down hard on him.
“Grayson, I’m so close.” You moan, getting louder and louder as he continues to flood your body with pleasure. He sucks on your clit even harder before dragging his fingers against a specific spot, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed with white-hot pleasure. You scream as your orgasm rolls through you in shockwaves, simultaneously pulling away and trying to get closer to him.
He doesn’t take his mouth off you and groans loudly at how your pussy pulsates in his mouth. He notices he’s grinding in the air and presses a palm down to relieve some of the pressure in his pants.
You lay there with an arm over your eyes, taking ragged breaths trying to calm yourself down. Grayson finally removes himself from you and goes up to lay next to you, stroking your hair and moving your arm so you can look at him.
“Never has a man ever made me cum that hard.” You mutter. He laughs at that before he turns to kiss you softly, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips and tongue. His kissing grows sloppier and sloppier until he’s slotting himself in between your thighs.
You reach down to unbutton his pants and pull them and his briefs down as far as you can until he leans back to remove them altogether.
He gets back in position, kissing you some more while his rock-hard cock brushes up against your thigh. He grinds into you as you pull away from him.
“Gray?”
“Yeah.” he murmurs hotly, continuing to grind into you.
“Fuck me, please.” You purr.
He breathes shakily and lines up with you, rolling his hips into you slowly. You both moan at the first thrust, his guttural and deep and yours high-pitched and whiny. He slowly grinds into you one, two, three times before picking up and thrusting into you properly.
He grabs one of your legs, placing it over his shoulder, allowing him to reach inside you deeper. He speeds up, overwhelming you with the relentless snap of his hips.
“Grayson.” you cry as he reaches down to rub your clit. He groans, unsure whether to look at your aroused eyes, your bouncing tits, or how effortlessly his dick enters and leaves your pussy. He tries to look at all three before groaning, “So fucking hot, Y/N.” He leans down to kiss and suck at your neck before growling in your ear, “Don’t give a fuck what anyone says. You’re so perfect for me. So wet and tight.”
At this point, he’s speaking incoherently. So overwhelmed by how well you’re taking him that he’s saying anything and everything that comes to his brain. That doesn’t stop his words from going directly to your clit, and you moan loudly at his words, begging for him to fuck you harder.
He does as asked, and it isn't until he leans down to kiss you again that you feel your second orgasm hit you like a freight train. You cry out while you dig sharp nails into his back, riding out your orgasm as he continues to pound into you. His thrusts stutter as you clamp down on him like a vice. He continues to roll his hips while cursing lowly into your ear.
“Cum for me, G. Please. I need it.” You whisper while scratching lightly up his back, hoping this will edge him on to finish. Sure enough, his hips stutter as his dick swells before hotly cumming inside you.  He groans out loudly, rocking his hips slowly into you before coming to a complete stop. He lays down on top of you, grabbing a blanket to cover the two of you.
You run your hands through his hair as he softly kisses your forehead.
“I love you, no matter what. Don’t listen to Twitter.” He confirms, sleepily. You hum in agreement, kissing his neck as a response.
“I love you more.”
You both are quiet, the silence lulling you to sleep before Grayson is rapidly jerking himself out of you. You look at his wild expression, concerned.
“Fuck, I forgot about our reservations.”
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souichieatr · 3 years
Text
wanna be yours, ch2
suna x freader , foxy boy
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where in which two opposites fall in love
a/n: for everyone who commented on the posts youve been added sorry i cant reply <//3 if you're interested in being in the taglist send me an ask, i was thinking of making a playlist for the au would anyone be interested? lmk !! sorry if there are any mistakes or if its bad this is my first writing <3
ch1. this voice im hearing rn? , hey bestie
word count: 2,090
the first song- The Ghost of You- my chemical romance
second song- I Bet on Losing dogs- mitski
third song- Crybaby- destroy boys
pocketing her phone after reading tendous message, she opens the door waving to a couple friends and offers friendly smile taking her seat. a pair of pale green eyes follow her. after yesterday suna did a little research about her y/n y/l/n the bassist and youngest in the band called 4u, she has quite a big following on twitter, she's really nice and interacts with the fans. looking at her now you can't imagine her on stage suna thought. breaking away from his thoughts as the teacher walks in. spouting for about what feels like hours and the students taking notes, finally lunch approaches. y/n jumps from her seat grabbing her case she walks to the third year hallway. waving to her friends they walk to her, tendou wrapping his arms around her “y/n!!!!!! i missed you” laughing as she hugged him back “tendou!!! i missed you toooo.” she turns to the grey haired male, “semisemi!!” she says giving him a hug, he rolls his eyes and hugs her back “and ushi!!” she turns to the brunette to which he pats her head “good afternoon y/n.” as they go to the lunch room to grab their lunch, they walk to one of the music rooms they usually occupy. a beep from her phone grabs her attention seeing her friend atsumu asking if him his twin and their friend can join for lunch, “hey guys you dont mind if atsumu and his friends come join us?” she says setting down her case against the wall. “nah you can invite them, atsumu is our biggest hype man” tendou says, grabbing his drum sticks from his back pocket. texting him its cool she goes to unzip her bass. “oh ms lady ive missed you” she says hugging the instrument, “i can't believe you two and always wanting to play, dont yall have any other hobby?” semi says, grabbing the schools given guitar setting the speaker up for y/n. tendou gives a scoff “semisemi dont act like you hate hearing us play i see you listening to our covers alllll the timeeeee” he says “yeah semi besides we have a concert soon and it wouldnt be bad to have an audience” y/n says walking to semi to connect her bass to the speaker when the door opens, entering is atsumu in the middle, osamu on his left, and a mystery guy in the back. setting her bass down running up to the blond “tsumu!!” giving him a hug “y/n!!” he hugs her back, she waves to osamu, who shes met on an occasion. looking towards the dark haired guy she walks up to him, noticing shes seen him somewhere. “youre suna right? we're in the same class?” she says giving him a hand and a awkward smile, nodding at her words. “hope its okay im here” he says taking her hand giving a slight shake. “nah dont worry its nice to have a different face, seeing tsumu is getting boring” turning around to the male. “what she means to say is we could use practice in front of new people” the grey haired male says giving a small laugh when tendou scoffs at him, both guys walking towards the small group. “this is semi and this is tendou” she says introducing them. when the introductions are over the two males go back to setting up, y/n walks the newcomers to the sitting area “here you guys can sit, im sure you all know ushijima” on hearing his name he looks up from his name giving a small head bow. they all sit “any recommendations tsumu?” y/n says walking to her bass making sure everything was good, looking towards the small group. “y/n you know my favorites” atsumu says stealing one of his brothers onigiri. y/n laughs and rolls her eyes, turning to tendou “anything you wanna try tori?” tendou looks at her with a smile “y/n lets show semi whatweve been working on” hearing this semi looked at them “what do you guys mean? what did you two do” y/n chuckles at the grey hairs doubtful expression “mr semisemi you know your favorite mcr song” when she sees him nod she continues “me and tori learned it” she says pushing him lightly. semi looked at her with wide eyes then at tendou, looking at semi tendou flicked his drum stick between his fingers with a nod. “wow semi cant believe you, we spent so much hours perfecting a my chemical romance for your sap self and he doesn't believe us y/nie i might
” tendou says fake sniffing. the little group in the back beyond confused, atsumu clearing his throat “have you three forgotten us already, wheres our show” ushijima nodding his head “yeah why are you guys being so vague” tendou snickers “dont worry you three and wakatoshi we have decided to play a new song or well cover i should say” “yeah and its semi’s favorite band you know the one that he wears on his shirts?” ushijima looking towards the girl after hearing her statement he nods. “okay can we play now ive been waiting to show my skills and get our lovely semi's opinion” y/n says removing her pick, both boys giving a ‘yeah’. finally tendou does the countdown. suna looks at all three of them with slight excitement in his stomach, ‘is this a new song im going to hear?’ before he could think of anything else, semi started playing a few chords by himself and y/n starting to add her own strums then tendou adding drums. sunas eyes widen at how well all the sounds blended together, freezing in his spot when semi started singing, when hitting the chorus y/n joins him. suna looking at her, he felt like he had been put in a trance, feeling like theres a spotlight on her when she starts nodding her head seeing her tongue sticking out when stringing the instrument. towards the end you can see y/n lose focus and her eye twitches, ending the song she sighs. “hey sorry about the end” waving to the guys to her left with a frown. hearing applause from the group the frown doesnt last long. “WHOOO!!!!! THAT WAS MY BESTIES GO SEMI! GO TENDOU! GO Y/N!!” atsumu gets up and yells. “that was so good what the hell that was yer first time too?” he says going up to the group, high-fiving y/n. “i mean me and tendou practiced together but semi basically has every song by them memorized but together? yeah our first.” tendou getting up to get his water that was next to ushijima. semi joining the fake blond and the girl, patting her on her back “that was a good first for us i can tell you and tendou worked hard, we're definitely adding it to the set list.” getting a laugh from both of them semi walks to the small group. “hey man that was really good, you have a nice voice” suna says as semi approaches, semi turned to him surprised “oh thank you im glad you enjoyed, do you listen to our stuff?” he says taking a seat next to him. “ive recently just started, i hope that doesnt sound too weird” the dark haired suddenly getting a little embarrassed, chuckling “its not weird i promise, well its good you listen to us or im sure it would've been awkward to just be here” nodding along to what he said. tendou going back to the drums “are you cowards tapping out now?” “COWARDS?!?!” y/n yells back turning around “i am no coward tendou satori i'll make you eat those words semi get over here” she said grabbing semis attention and shooing atsumu back to his seat. chuckling as he sat back down, turning to suna “howd ya like em? theyre good huh?” suna rolling his eyes “im not going to help inflate your ego tsumu” “yeah tsumu yer big ego is not cute” gasping to their remarks “you guys are so mean to me, i introduce you to nice music and even the artists and this is the thanks i get” before any could respond tendou starts clicking his sticks. starting this one is tendou with a slower sound, y/n entering second then semi with vocals. y/n leans down to mess with something by her foot turning a notch noises like static come out adding to the music, coming up fast she starts adding her vocals complimenting semis. pressing on the box she leans down as more noises come out. atsumu leans over to sunas ear “thats a pedal that holds other sounds and can help stretch other sounds” suna giving him a nod. towards the end y/n reaches down to the pedal again adding a distorted sound before adding her last bit of ‘oohs’ before the song ends. everyone clapping as the members stay still for s bit before y/n dramatically bows “youre so welcome lovely audience” she says blowing kisses to them, laughing at her atsumu jumps up and down pretending to be a crazy fan “oh y/n you were so go
od i love you y/n!!!” y/n laughing at him. “hey atsumu what about me!” tendou asks swinging his hand “howd i do?” “oh tendou you were so good, i love you too tendou!!!” he says swinging his arm back. tendou satisfied with his response nods his head, “and with that lets play one more i still want time to actually eat before we play again later.” “yeah lets try ‘crybaby’ we haven't done that in awhile” semi says getting in position.“remember y/n you do the verses” y/n nods clearing her throat “go tori” she says and tendou starts the counting again. starting the counting fast he gets one beat then y/n starts off with singing, swinging her bass back she grabs the mic. suna cracks a smile nodding his head a little as he remembers this song on their youtube, atsumu whistling when y/n dips down her mic as she sings, letting the boys have a solo in between verses she bobs her head. the last few seconds of the song she swings the instrument back as she steps on the pedal creating feedback, as semi goes to vocals she starts getting a solo with tendou playing, y/n leans forward and her and semi sing the rest of the song. after the last note they all look out of breath. clapping for them again letting them catch their breath, y/n starts laughing “i forget how hard that song is towards the end” laughing with her tendou nods “its literally the last 50 seconds that get the hardest” “alright lets clean up” semi says laughing at both of their bored looks they send him. finishing up they all go to the group whove are talking among themselves. sighing as she sits y/n takes the seat next to suna, “so howd you like the songs?” she says with a smile “they were good though i only recognized the last one” he replies, “tsumu told me you started listening to us recently so i thought or well semi thought wed show off a bit with our best song being that” she says with a smile grabbing her bottle. a small smile appears on his face “oh hey tsumu told me youre like really good in your classes and i really need help in history and since we have that group project coming up do you wanna pair up?” she says setting her bottle down grabbing a bag of chips. “yeah i dont mind as long as you actually do something and i can help you study if your grade is that bad” he says. “thatd actually help me out a lot i really appreciate it” she lets a breath out. after that the two spent all lunch just talking, the conversation coming easy for both of them. hearing the bell ring y/n hugs her friends and walks with suna to their class, pairing up in the project the teacher had given them in their period. after class before y/n rushed out she passed him her number with a wink “text me for the deets foxy boy.” ‘foxy boy? suna thought to himself shaking his head texting her with a simple ‘hey its suna’ and heading home.
facts !
during lunch when suna and y/n we're talking the followed each other on twitter
semi was really touched they learned the mcr song
the 4u concert is at a small venue but no one really cares about the other groups going there
osamu and atsumu almost started fighting over the onigiri until suna said something about ushijima being right there
atsumu was watching suna and y/n talking
osamu actually really enjoyed being there during lunch
—taglist
@applekenm , @xhanjisungiex , @astronomyturtle , @sirachano0dles , @yn-tingz , @killmepls-uwu , @bakugouswh0r3
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chibicalzones · 3 years
Text
𝐚𝐨𝐛𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐬𝐚𝐢 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦
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⋆° where you transfer schools and join your new high school’s dance team!
...these are also just my personal headcannons if the volleyboys were a dance team instead in which some may or may not be from personal experiences :D 
i was gonna do a fukurodani one first cuz @myhaikyuudump​ ‘s post triggered smth in me but i’ll probs make this into a series!
warning: mentions of bullying but it’s not explicit 
post made by: alex 🍒 
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— oikawa
he’s been part of the school’s dance team ever since he was a freshman, which not many can do, and now since it’s his last year, the coach granted him the role as dance team captain 
he loves being captain if that means he can boast about his team that much more, plus he takes his duties pretty seriously 
is literally the type to put “aoba johsai dance team” “ajdt 2020” “dt for life” in every single one of his socials - instagram, twitter, facebook, etc. everyone needs to knows he’s on dance team
as much as he loves his team, they’re more known for and primarily train in hip hop, and he’s part of the handful that is classically trained in ballet
so when competition season rolls around, everyone would be part of the large hip hop dance category that they’re a shoo-in to win, but oikawa and a few others would have to compete in the small categories with 3-5 people in jazz, contemporary, and lyrical. which are usually extremely competitive!
so he’s over the moon to have you part of the team! not only do you blend in with the team so perfectly, he believes that you’re what the team needs to finally win in a category besides hip hop since you’re hands down so talented! 
that way, he can spend his time at nationals actually dancing and not just watching almost the entire time
out of all the members, you probably spend the most time with oikawa 
you expect just as much because you’re both the in the same dances, which is practically every dance. but you honestly do enjoy his company since you and him have a lot more in common, have a similar childhood, than the rest of the members 
oikawa used to dread summer practices and camps but you makes it so much more bearable
would drive you to and from dance practices every day 
all the time that he spends with you, he secretly lets you in on the “behind the scenes” action on being an officer and what he does all year long 
because he’s 100% sure you’ll be captain your third year as well 
is secretly anticipating the national dance pageant so you and him can win Mr. and Ms. Dance together 
— iwaizumi 
he’s co-captain of the entire team but he’s like the unofficial hip hop team captain because oikawa sometimes can’t handle the energy during hip hop practice and iwai just knows the counts better 
he only joined dance team because oikawa dragged him into it but he needed up really liking it by the end 
has casually danced and took some classes over summer to fill his time before auditioning and the odds were in his favor
absolutely loves the friends that he’s made through dance team and is definitely the type to still keep in touch with the alumni after they graduate
he always gets a center moment in every single hip hop dance they do through the years whether it be for competition, concerts, rallies, events - people go wild whenever he’s center!
when you did some research on the school and it’s dance program, you did some snooping on the members page and after watching countless dance videos, he’s the first one that you notice
but meeting him in person was quite intimidating the first time. it took you a couple of weeks before you could actually have a conversation with him with just the two of you
since you hang out with oikawa during dance practices and oikawa hangs out with iwaizumi, you end up hanging out with him a lot too. so you eventually ease up to him
you may be comfortable with oikawa more, but iwaizumi is the one that constantly checks up on you
all these years, he’s seen what oikawa has been through and he sees that in you. he really worries for you because he knows how exhausting it is to be a new member and constantly having to work your way up so you can eventually fill the holes once the third years leave
always takes you off campus to eat lunch or go somewhere to eat after school so you’re energized for practice later that day
he’s the first to give you his number and makes it clear that you can text or call him if you ever need anything
— matsukawa
didn’t expect people to know him for dance team but he’s surprised he’s pretty famous around school
known for the tricks and flips that he does during all their routines 
actually has really good musicality but whenever he choreographs a piece for the group, he doesn’t know the counts 
talks so causally to the coaches as if they were friends but isn’t a kiss up 
thinks summer practices are too tiring and offers everyone to go to his place after to cool off 
strangely enough, you got along with mattsun faster than you did iwaizumi 
when the team started to learn their large hip hop routine for competition back in the summer, you were having such a hard time learning the dance because your body just wasn’t used to moving your body that way
and you didn’t want to bother iwaizumi or oikawa because you knew they’d be too busy looking after the whole team
so during the group’s free time, he would play the music over and over again and practice the dance with you, carefully going through everything section by section 
even gives you an extra key to the dance room so you can practice before school 
you can always count on him for help on any of the dances you’re in together 
yells the loudest whenever you’re on the floor / stage. even when he’s watching from the wings
always tries to make each moment of his last year fun!
— hanamaki
joined the dance team his second year but turns out to be an awesome dancer and makes friends oddly quick
one of the few that auditioned to be part of the smaller group pieces for compeitions and got in
gets a killer turn section and always squeezes in a triple to transition into the floor during improv
despite only dancing for such a short time, agencies have come in contact with him to see if he was interested in signing under their talent agency but he always resigns because that just isn’t for him
all the third years have a solo except for him because he didn’t feel like it was fair that he wasn’t a “third year senior” and that someone else deserves it more
like you!
is amazed at how gorgeous you dance and knows you’ll be gracing the floor with your talent, getting all those gold metals, plaques, and trophies!
he might be a little jealous over you but seeing you being so passionate over the sport makes him work even harder to make himself — and the team — better
absolutely does not and cannot tolerate other people’s bullying towards you. he just doesn’t understand how or why people felt the need to be rude towards you. and have the audacity to voice it out.
one time when he caught a group of dancers from another school talk bad about you, saying nasty things that obviously weren’t true, he snuck behind their back and said in a low voice, “you know those aren’t very nice thing to say” and looks down on them until they run away scared
also deletes any hate comments on the team’s official social pages before you could read any
the very first time you perform your solo, he buys you a bouquet of flowers to give to you afterwards
and then during the end of the year dance concert, he watches you from the wings performing your solo for the last time and he starts to tear up because he’ll definitely never forget this year where he was able to watch you grow
— kindaichi, kunimi, and kyotani 
your #1 support group 
and fan club!
absolutely loves watching you dance
they all joined the same year you did and they’re all slightly jealous of you because damn, how can someone be good at literally everything
it’s almost upsetting >:( but they love you too much to actually be mad
they just have such a deep appreciation for you and what you bring to the team as a whole even though they don’t show it that often
learns a lot from you
when they first watched you dance contemporary and ballet, that inspired them to practice extra after hours so they could be ready for when they have to audition for dances later on the year
the goal is that the trio will be good enough by the time their third year hits and they’ll be the ones on the floor with you performing all the small dances
ever since you guys first met at orientation, you were all attached to the hip in and outside of dance. basically on the same playing field for next three years in terms of fitting in with the team
you’re not in the same classes but you guys all study together at the library on sundays because that’s your only day off
one time, the team was at a competition the same day as your birthday and they paid the announcer to say something like, “happy birthday to our best friend, dance your heart out!” right before they played the music for your solo
and during their last year, they’ll all gather around in the wings as they watch you perform your senior solo for the last time and silently cry together because they’ll really miss you
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sada-siva-sanyaasi · 4 years
Text
Stains - Part 4
Series Summary: An artist goes through a lot of things, sure, but having to deal with her ex on a constant basis wasn’t something she signed up for.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern!AU)
Warnings: None.
Words: 979 words.
A/N: Words under the cut.
Series Masterlist / Twitter Profiles | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | 
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Peter sighed as he watched Y/N talk in hushed whispers with the new guy, who didn’t even bother introducing himself, and giggling like a child, her flushed cheeks annoying the heck out of him. “Where the fuck are Wanda and MJ oh my God.” He groaned, shoving some French fries into his mouth when the door to the restaurant opened.
It was not who he wanted it to be.
The last four men he wanted around them walked in, their coats in their hands as they seated themselves a table away, barely noticing Peter and Y/N. he sighed to himself as Bucky and his friends got some drinks and kept talking, remaining unaware of his presence, or so he thought.
“You’re so stupid,” Y/N giggled suddenly, a little too loud for Peter’s comfort as his face turned red, watching her bite her lip and nod to whatever it was the guy, was saying. “Of course I’m stupid, I have an oaf for an older brother sitting at home that I bear with, stupidity tends to be contagious.” He grumbled, chugging his beer.
Y/N chuckled and turned to Peter, leaning forward and ruffling his hair. “Where the fuck are the girls, Parker?” She said softly, and Peter swatted her hands away, scowling. “Peaceful, wherever they are. Why do I always have to put up with this shit?” he looked around and froze the moment he saw Bucky stare at Y/N, his jaw clenched and grip on glass tight.
“Oh fucking hell,” Peter groaned to himself, rubbing his face and stuffing his mouth with food. Peter was beginning to hate his birthday more and more as time passed. The moment his phone rang he stood up and rushed out, sighing in relief.
“Wanda where the fuck are you guys?” Peter hissed, biting back other curses. “We’re nearly there, why are you talking like you got a stick up your ass, oh my God?” “Because Barnes and his bitches are also in the restaurant and Y/N is almost completely wasted and latched onto an idiot.”
Wanda cursed and talked to MJ, before turning back to Peter. “We’re two minutes away, don’t worry.” Peter sighed and pocketed his phone, before walking back in, only to wish he didn’t.
Y/N and Bucky were facing each other, while the others were trying to hold them back. Y/N grabbed Bucky’s collar and seethed, “Why do you not leave me alone and just mind your own fucking business?” Bucky kept glaring at her and said, “You were getting too fucking loud and annoying for me to even drink in peace, you’re the one who needs to leave us alone.”
Y/N huffed and let go of his collar, before picking up a glass of water and splashing it on his face. Gasps echoed in the restaurant as Peter rushed inside, grabbing Y/N and pulling her away. “Y/N what the fuck is wrong with you?” He whisper-yelled, and turned to Sam, who was trying not to laugh.
“I’m sorry about her, she’s definitely wasted.” Sam nodded, offering Bucky a handkerchief as he wiped his face furiously. “What is your deal with dumping drinks on me, Y/N?” He yelled, and she glared right back.
“What is your deal with faking a relationship for a year and dumping me for your side chick who looked like your ex, Barnes?” Pietro slapped a hand on his mouth as he turned away, and Bucky flushed a bright red, choking on air.
Steve put an arm around Bucky and pulled him away as Sam said, “Well, uh, that’s… yeah. I guess we’d better get going.”
Peter nodded and started picking up their things, when Wanda and MJ walked in. “Wanda,” Pietro breathed out, his eyes widening as Wanda paid him no mind, calmly pulling Y/N into her arms and rubbing her back soothingly.
MJ helped Peter by shooing the stranger away and picking Y/N’s things, when Y/N perked up to turn and glare at Pietro. “You know I thought you were just being nice,” she sniffled, wiping her nose. “Why did you have to wish me and Peter happy birthday today? It got fucking ruined!” She hiccupped, her head falling back onto Wanda’s shoulder.
“And you!” She hissed, making Steve and Sam jump as Bucky stayed silent, staring at her. “Take this cheating piece of shit’s side here too! I started this, right? I’m the reason why he played me like a joke, right? I’m the reason why he kept crying about his cheating ex and did the exact same thing to me! I hate you all!”
Wanda sighed and MJ said, “I’ll take her to the car, Peter get your stuff.” He nodded and MJ slowly pulled Y/N away from Wanda, saying, “Alright baby, let’s get you home.”  Y/N chuckled to herself and wrapped her arms around MJ, singing Baby by Justin Bieber under her breath.
Wanda waited until they left, before sparing the men a last glance. “Wait, Wanda,” Pietro started, grabbing her hand as she turned to leave. “Not now,” she said, pushing him away, and walking to the door.
“It’s good to see you again, little one.” Pietro said, and she paused near the door before walking out. Pietro sighed and turned back to Bucky, who kept staring at the spot where Y/N was moments ago, his face unreadable. “I want the pictures and videos taken here gone, call up Stark if you have to.” He muttered, running a hand through his hair and walking out just as the manager rushed over. “Is there any problem sir?” He said, and Sam scoffed.
“Yeah, about an hour ago. Let’s go.”
-
The next day, Y/N woke up with a major hangover and a buzzing phone. She looked over and her eyes widened as she read the message, her mouth falling open in a silent scream.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
Taglist Open!
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rina-writes · 4 years
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Leaked
Summary: When your nudes get leaked by your ex, you worry about how this will change Grayson’s perception of you.
Warnings: Revenge porn/manipulative ex, protective Grayson, fluff (tw marked within story)
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The view was blurred as you tried to stop the tears from pouring out of your eyes. You let out another shaky breath, trying to anchor yourself despite feeling a million miles away.  You could barely see the large green palm trees fluttering against the blue sky.  It just looked like waves and shimmers.  The Dolan household was an oasis for you.  A safe place created by the twins themselves when Grayson first invited you over after your third date. When Ethan heard you lived in a studio with a roommate, he jokingly suggested that you move into Grayson’s tiny house. Grayson was half serious when he agreed to it.  You hated to think that the next time you sat in this spot, you would be reminded of your dirt bag ex and the pictures that would ruin your life forever.
You let out a sigh and put down your paint brush.  You were done painting for today, for sure.  Your plan was to paint his backyard and give it to him to put up.  He and Ethan were planning on making an office and you wanted to give him a personal gift.  Your “short break” to look at social media turned into revealing the worst thing that has happened to you in a very long time.  With your creativity dashed and your nerves set ablaze, you decided to focus on the real issue:  how you would tell Grayson.  
Grayson wasn’t exactly innocent.  While he was the type of guy that liked to be in a relationship before being intimate, he had plenty of practice.  You could see his experience in the way his hazel eyes with darken and a smirk tugged on his full pink lips anytime he realized you were in the mood.  Sure, he had rippling abs and cut arms because he wants to be the best version of himself.  However, he would be the first to admit that being able to toss his girlfriend over his shoulder and ravish her with ease was a great perk as well.  
You also knew that Grayson knew that you weren’t innocent either. At the same time, you never sent him any sexy pictures or videos.  The raciest text you sent was probably something like, ‘I wish you were in bed with me.’ It probably never occurred to Grayson that you would be into that kind of thing.
tw: talks about manipulation by ex-partner
To be honest, you don’t know what came over you back then. Sending naked pictures was something everyone knew was risky and dangerous.  Your ex had a way of persuading you to do anything. He pried on your insecurities and desire to be loved, coaxing you into things that made you uncomfortable under the familiar, but sickening logic of “if you loved me, you’d do it.” Then, he would berate you for doing exactly what he said.  You shouldn’t have been surprised that he would one day threaten to post these pictures.  He often told you he would send it to your family or to your coworkers whenever you did something he didn’t like. Sometimes, you were happy he left you for someone else. You knew that he would never let you break up with him and would punish you if you ever managed to get away.
tw end
You were incredibly grateful that you met Gray about a year later.  He showed you what it felt like to be cared for and loved.  He helped you to push past your insecurities and help you find new things to boost your confidence, like painting!  He was always in tune with your emotions. It was good and bad because it meant that sometimes he could sense something wrong before you were ready to tell him. You had a feeling this was going to be one of those issues.
As if right on cue, Grayson knocked on the door of the patio to get your attention. You glanced back to see a sheepish grin on his face.  He had been filming with Ethan all day.  At first, he felt bad for abandoning you on your day off.  You reminded him that you enjoyed your ‘me’ time and would be happy to get some time to paint. You hadn’t told him about your surprise so, you knew he was worried that you were secretly feeling neglected.  You had to shoo him from the pool area multiple times as he kept “forgetting” things he left around you. 
You widened your eyes and blinked a few times to hide your tears.  You smiled widely as he sat next to you. You thought you did a pretty job of looking composed.
“Have you been on Twitter all day?” He teased, gesturing at the phone in your hand as he leaned on your the top of your lawn chair.
“What, why?” You asked, alarmed, immediately clicking the button to lock your already locked phone. 
Your serious expression took him by surprise and Grayson narrowed his eyes.  He held your chin and analyzed your face.  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that something was wrong.
“Babe, did something happen?” He asked, frowning, his thick brows making his eyes deepen.  “I was just teasing you about not painting…”
“Oh…” You shifted uncomfortably, pulling away from him.  You tried to discretely push your phone under your thigh.  “Sorry, I guess I’m a little jumpy.  You know, work has been tough.  Really needed this vacation.”
“Don’t do this…” Grayson said, slumping his shoulders, letting go of your chin.  “I know you’re lying. I don’t like when you hide things from me.”
“I don’t know…” You let out a shaky breath.  “I don’t know if I can tell you right now.”
He smoothed your hair out of your face and kissed your forehead.  “You can tell me anything, when you’re ready.”  He put his arm around as he sat in the chair next to you.  “I just wish I could help you now.”
The moment your nose met the crook of his neck, the tears started pouring out of you like a river.  He held you tighter, his body hardening as if literally becoming his rock.  He pulled you into his lap and your sobs became uncontrollable the moment your cheek hit his chest. Your tears were soaking his tank top and you were sure it was getting on his bare shoulders as well.  But, Grayson never stopped holding you.  Eventually, you calmed down and just rested your head on his chest.  He rubbed your back and said nothing.  You could hear him breathing deeply as if trying to calm himself down.  He hated seeing you distraught, especially since it was rare.  Like him, you tried to be cheerful around those you love.  So, if you broke down, it had to be something terrible.  
“Promise me that you won’t change how you see me…” You said softly, finally looking at him.
“Nothing would make me do that.”  Grayson said, grabbing your chin and resting his forehead on yours.  He quirked an eyebrow,  “Well maybe not nothing… If you killed Ethan, it would be kinda rough.”
You gave a soft laugh.  You needed that.  You reached over behind Grayson, to the previous chair you were sitting in to grab your phone.  You unlocked it and handed it to him.
His breath hitched as he scrolled to read the email.  You closed your eyes, feeling them stinging with tears again.
The email was filled with multiple pictures of you almost completely naked.  You were usually wearing underwear, but even that didn’t cover much.  Most of them didn’t have your face, but someone could probably tell it was you.
“Is this from your ex?” Grayson practically growled.  You opened your eyes to see his jaw set and his eyes wild. 
“Gray…”
“Is that bastard blackmailing you?!” He yelled.  “What the f*ck... I’ll kill him.”
“Calm down…” You said, resting your hand on his chest. “I don’t want to make him upset. We haven’t come out publicly, but I’m sure he’s sending this because he knows you and I are together.  If we piss him off,  he’ll post these photos and your fans will be retweeting that you’re dating a slut.”
Grayson stared at you in disbelief. He grabbed your shoulders tightly, and your wince made him loosen his grip.  His eyes searched your face for a moment as though his brain was also thinking of the right thing to say.  
“Y/N, I don’t give a flying f*ck right now about what anyone thinks.” His voice was deep and firm.  
You could tell his blood was boiling, but he was trying not to scare you. Let’s face, Angry Grayson was definitely more fun to enjoy when the anger was not targeted at you. He knew that and often tried to be gentler around you. 
Grayson continued to speak, “You have no right to feel ashamed. Everyone has taken photos to feel good about themselves.  You trusted him with this. Now, he is using it to ruin your life because you decided to date someone better? F*ck that guy.  I’ll kill him.  NO, we’ll sue him and then I’ll kill him.”
“Grayson…” You hugged him tightly.  
He hugged you back, cradling you in his arms gently.  “I’m so sorry, baby.” He whispered, his voice become gently again as he nuzzled your hair.  “I’ll call our lawyers at the management company.  They will know what to do.”
“Thank you.”  You choked out, getting emotional again at the sound of lawyers.  How could you be so stupid? How did you let it get to this point?
“We have to work quickly.” Grayson said, standing up still holding you in his arms, your cellphone pressing into your back as he kept a hold of it.  “I worry that if you take too long he will leak a few to scare you.  We gotta loop in E and see if he can help us out too.”
You sniffled.  You forgot that Ethan would know too.  Ethan who viewed you like a sister.  Oh god, would Grayson tell Lisa and Cameron too? Would the entire Dolan family now view you as a scamp?
“I’m so sorry, Gray.”  You apologized again.  “I feel so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be!” Gray said, carrying you into the house.  “You’re beautiful, baby.  I don’t blame you for wanting to show it off.  I just wished I could have met you before that prick.  Then I’d have pretty pictures and one less face to smash in.”
He gave you a grin and despite the deep, gnawing sadness in the pit of your stomach, you managed to smile back. He kissed your forehead and you closed your eyes a few more tears rolling down your cheeks.
“I love you, baby.  I got this. Trust me.”  Grayson said.  “I won’t hurt you like he hurt you.”
You kissed his cheek.  “I know.”  You had always known, but this solidified it.
400 notes · View notes
terreisa · 3 years
Text
Love Down the Line: Chapter 5
The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn't really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma's teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn't come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, AO3
~*CS*~
Cincinnati, May 12th
“Emma, sweetheart, how’s the tour?  Are the fans nice?  Have you been able to go sightseeing anywhere?”
“Are you getting enough sleep?  You didn’t on the last one and you were basically a zombie when you got back.  Did you pack that melatonin I dropped off?  What about your meals?  You’ve been eating something green everyday right?”
Emma rolled her eyes at Mary Margaret and David’s unending questions.  While they’d never formally adopted her they were as close to having parents as she was ever going to get.  She absolutely loved them but sometimes they drove her nuts with their worrying.
“The tour is going pretty good and the fans are great as always.  No sightseeing since this is the first day of rest we’ve gotten so far and I don’t really feel like leaving the room.  I packed the melatonin and I’m getting as much sleep as I can and I’ve eaten green things.  Sour apple rings count right?”  She stifled a laugh at David’s spluttering and Mary Margaret’s attempts to calm him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.  Tink’s been on a health kick lately and has been making us drink these smoothie things with more vegetable juices and leafy greens than frozen fruit and Killian refuses to eat fast food so we’ve been stopping at actual restaurants or he’ll cook for us on the bus.”
At the mention of his name Killian popped his head through the doorway that connected their rooms.  One of the greatest perks of having him on the tour was no longer having to share one room with both Ruby and Tink while Will got an entire room to himself.  Of course Will hadn’t been as enthused about having to share for once.
“Need something, Swan?”
“Oh, that’s very thoughtful of him.  You have been trying to be friendly with him, haven’t you?  I know you were hesitant at first but Ruby has nothing but nice things to say about him and he’s been through some tough times.”
“What’s he been cooking?  And what kinds of restaurants?  Some of those places can be just as bad as fast food and he might not know it.”
Emma was extremely glad that it was only Mary Margaret and David that were on speaker.  Though she wouldn’t have put it past Killian to have heard everything they said with the way they were just shy of yelling into their phone to make sure she heard them.  As it was he could probably tell they were talking about him from the heat she could feel in her cheeks and ears.  She waved him off from her spot on the bed, turning slightly so he could see the phone she was holding.  His eyebrows shot up before silently apologizing and ducking back into his room.
“You guys really need to chill out.  Everything’s going great, Mary Margaret, and it’s early enough that we’re still getting along.  And please stop analyzing what I’ve been eating, David, you’re a sheriff not a nutritionist.”
They both hemmed and hawed but it had been that way since she’d started going further than fifty miles outside of Storybrooke to play her music.  At first it had been annoying and unwelcome until she’d realized that that’s what people did when they cared about someone.  The Nolans were second to none when it came to worrying and being overprotective out of love.
“Then, as a sheriff, is he being respectful?  And I don’t just mean with you and Tink.  He’s not trashing hotel rooms or causing disturbances in the cities you’ve been playing at has he?  I’ve read about some of the trouble he’s gotten into-”
“David, you didn’t!”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Online, stuff online!” David corrected impatiently. “I’m not going to illegally pull a file on someone, no matter how much I want to.”
“So you’d rather rely on gossip sites?” Emma hissed lowly, not wanting Killian to overhear any part of her conversation at the moment. “I thought we’d agreed to not look at those after that one article made you both join Twitter just to berate the author and the site.”
“Hey, now, I got rid of it after that,” Mary Margaret said defensively, “I’m only on Instagram now.”
“I only promised to not look at stuff about you,” David grumbled. “A man with a very public history of causing trouble joins the band on only the good word of one person?  I have the right to be concerned.”
She bit back her sigh of frustration.  As much as she didn’t like David’s attitude she couldn’t help but understand, seeing as she’d felt almost exactly the same way in the beginning.
“Yeah, you do, but I’m not too worried about it and you shouldn’t be either.  You should be more worried about what Ruby’s going to do to you when I tell her you don’t trust her.”
Their twin gasps had her grinning.
“That’s cold, kiddo,” David grumbled.
“Just like your lasagne will be once word gets to Granny,” she said, snickering. “Look, everything’s going great and will keep going great unless you keep sending bad vibes my way.”
“Bad vibes?” Mary Margaret asked with a smile Emma could hear in her voice.
“Yup, the baddest of vibes, ones where I end up with laryngitis or the bus gets a flat in the middle of nowhere or my guitarist breaks their hand and can’t go on tour.  Oh wait, that’s already happened.”
Killian took up space in the doorway once again, his eyebrows high on his forehead.  She shook her head at his unasked question but didn’t shoo him away again. 
“According to Ruby it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her and that it could be the best thing to happen to you.  She has been very forthcoming about what Killian going on tour with you might end up becoming,” Mary Margaret said smugly.
“Wait, what do you mean?”  David asked confused as Emma scrambled to end that conversation before it started.
“Would you look at the time?  I gotta go!”
“Emma, sweetheart-”
“I’ll call you guys in a few days.  Love ya, bye!” With a huff she ended the call and dropped her phone onto the mattress, knowing she’d only postponed the inevitable gossip session Mary Margaret wanted to have with her.  She looked at Killian, who was still lurking in the doorway, “Yeah?”
“Not to be nosey-”
“But you’re going to be anyway,” she groaned, “You heard your name and you’re curious.”
He chuckled and strode into her room, settling himself on Tink’s bed, leaning back against the headboard, “You would be too.  Especially when you have a tenuous hold on a gig and the person who decides your fate has mentioned your name and then not long after is discussing ‘bad vibes’.”
“You think too highly of yourself,” she said dismissively. “I was talking to Mary Margaret and David about how terrible your cooking is and that it’s been giving my stomach bad vibes.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Swan,” he said with a shake of his head, “If I recall correctly you had three servings of last night’s fare.”
She rolled her eyes, “Just replenishing the reserves I used up during the show, Jones.  The stir fry wasn’t that special.”
“I see,” he said seriously, rubbing his hand thoughtfully over his chin, “I guess I’ll strike it from future meal options, wouldn’t want you to have to force yourself to eat it before complaining about it to others.”
“That’s not-” she huffed, knowing he’d called her bluff, “Whatever, you know it was great.  That’s what I was telling them.  David was all upset that I might not be eating what he considers a balanced diet.”
He chuckled, “And the bad vibes?”
“They worry too much and I basically told them they’d be jinxing me if they kept it up.  I don’t think Mary Margaret believed me and I know neither of them will relax until the tour’s over,” she sighed, flopping back onto the mattress and staring at the ceiling.
“Is this the same David that inspired you to learn guitar?” Killian asked casually but she could hear the hesitant caution in his tone.
“Yeah, him and Mary Margaret, his wife, kinda latched on and never let go, not even when-” she paused, still unwilling to share her whole messed up story with him, “things got really rough for me.  They’re pretty much my parents in every way without actually being my parents, including getting all up in my business and then nagging me about what they find.  You know how it is.”
“I wouldn’t, actually,” Killian said softly.  She sat up on her elbows and he gave her a self-deprecating shrug, “Mum died when I was eight and my father left when I was ten.  Spent a few years living with a distant cousin until things got straightened out.”
She blinked at him in shock.  Not once, in any interview or magazine profile had that part of his childhood been discussed.  They had only ever mentioned where he’d gone to school before he’d dropped out when the Realm of Jewels started getting big.  At the time, when she’d been devouring every piece of media she could when it came to her favorite band, she hadn’t paid attention to that lack of detail.  It hadn’t mattered then and while it still made no difference to her it did go a long way in explaining why she felt like she had known him for years instead of weeks.
“You, uh, got adopted then?” She asked hesitantly as she sat up, needing to know if he’d had the same heartaches as her or if he’d been one of the lucky ones.
“Er, not as such, no-” he looked up at the ceiling, his Adam's apple bobbing as his hand rubbed at the back of his neck, “First my brother was granted civil rights for adolescents, essentially cleaving himself out from under the burden of our father.  Once he proved he could support not only himself but me as well he became my legal guardian.  He had just had his seventeenth birthday the week before.”
“Seventeen?” she breathed, “And you were fourteen.”
His head snapped back down, his eyes wide and his voice a little unsteady, “You really must have been quite the fan if you still remember that bit of trivia.”
“Maybe I was,” she said softly.  She dropped her gaze to where her hands were balled up into tight fists in her lap, “Must have been nice.  Living with someone that actually wanted you.”
“It was but then there were times where it wasn’t,” he gave a deep sigh and when she looked up he was staring down at his own hands as they played with denim over his knees. “Liam had been my hero my entire life just being my older brother.  When he became my guardian I felt as though I had to push myself into perfection to live up to what I thought he expected of me.  I’d already started drinking by that point but it didn’t truly become a problem until I was sixteen.
“I knew Liam was disappointed but he had no idea how to help me and I’m not even sure I would have accepted it had he offered.  Instead he proposed a compromise of allowing me to play with his newly formed band if I curtailed my drinking substantially.  It worked, for a while at least.  I’d been playing for quite some time on my own but with the camaraderie of the band and the discovery of actually enjoying writing songs I found an outlet for all the feelings that I’d been trying to drown with the drink.  For the first time since Liam had assumed my guardianship I felt as though he was my brother again, not just my beleaguered caretaker.”
Emma wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.  She didn’t want to inadvertently come across as judgmental by commenting about his drinking but she would have given anything for some relative to have saved her from any one of her foster homes and done whatever they’d ask in gratitude.  Though, when she thought about it, Mary Margaret and David were practically the next best thing and she’d given them plenty of teenage attitude at the time.  Especially when it came to the year she would give anything to forget.
“Did he throw a fit when you decided to quit school for the band?” She asked, hoping to steer the both of them into less painful and mine filled waters.
He looked up with a small grin, “It was his bloody idea.  Liam didn’t want to leave me to my own destructive devices and since the band had been steadily building momentum he was loath to relegate shows to only weekends and holidays while I was in my final year.  He put it up to a vote with the others and they agreed.  And since I didn’t have a licence yet and therefore couldn’t do my share of the driving I spent my time on the road reading anything and everything I could get my hands on.  I’m fairly certain I got a better education that way than I would have otherwise.”
“So is that why you guys were the Jolly Rogers first?  A bunch of pirates driving all over England to pillage seedy pubs for fame and fortune?”
“Something like that,” he chuckled, his grin widening.
She grinned back, feeling somewhat proud that she’d been able to somewhat keep herself from completely depressing him with her curiosity.  As much as she’d obsessed over him when she was younger she was surprised by how much she actually didn’t know about him, even though she’d just berated David for taking gossip as truth.  There was a part of her that itched to know more about him, the real person and not the persona she and millions of fans thought they knew.  Their little chats on the bus and in the small bits of down time just weren’t enough and suddenly she had an idea on how to fix that.
“Alright, where to Jones?”
“Er, what?” He asked, his confusion at her non sequitur furrowing his brow.
“I’ve never been to this city before and I know you have so you are now my de facto pirate tour guide.”
“Swan,” he sighed, though his smile was growing by the second, “I’ve only been here twice and both times I only had a few hours to explore, which back then was usually as many bars as I could get to before sound check.  I’m probably the last person that should be leading you around this fair metropolis.”
“Too bad-” she jumped up off the bed and began looking for the shoes she’d kicked off as soon as they’d walked through the door earlier that morning, “Google ‘things to do in Cincinnati’ and pretend that you know what you’re talking about.  Then I’ll pretend to be impressed like every other time you think you’re being all too cool for school and worldly.”
“Too cool for school?” Killian repeated incredulously. “What are you, twelve?”
“Twenty-eight,” she said absently, grinning triumphantly as she extricated one shoe from under the desk and spotted the toe of the other poking out from under the bed Killian was sitting on.
“Twenty-eight and apparently have no idea how to stroke a man’s ego so he’ll want to do ridiculous favors for you,” he muttered.
She looked up at him sharply and got an eyebrow wiggle in return.  With a huff she sat back on her bed to slip on her shoe, “I don’t need to stroke a man’s anything to get him to do stuff for me.”
“Oh, really?” He asked incredulously. “And what pray tell do you do?”
Gladly rising to the challenge she straightened from her bent position she subtly arched her back and blinked owlishly at him, nearly grinning in triumph at the way his mouth parted slightly and he sucked in a breath.  She did let a small smile grace her lips as she pointed to the shoe under the bed.
“Can you grab that for me first?”
He nodded, a little slack-jawed, and as soon as he bent over the side of the bed she relaxed her posture.  When he came up with the shoe she was waiting with her hand out, her brow raised and a shit-eating grin all in place.  At his look of indignation she kind of wished she’d had her phone ready to get a picture of it.
“That’s- that’s bloody manipulation, that is!” He spluttered, slapping her shoe into her palm.
“Ooo, someone’s got their panties in a twist.  All I did was ask you to get me my shoe,” she said innocently, putting the shoe on. “Come on Tour Guide, show me the good stuff.”
“Unbelievable,” he growled, but he was shaking his head and smiling.  He stood and moved back to his own room, shouting through the open door, “I expect you to pay for whatever unique culinary delight we’ll inevitably be trying.  Fool me once, Swan.”
“Shame on you,” she cheerfully called back.
Making sure she had her phone and room key she shot off a text to everyone who needed to know where they were going.  It was a request from Regina that she had chafed at and ignored at first, until she began being recognized in the streets and the paparazzi had started following her around.  After one incident that had had her holed up in the backroom of a used bookstore with a dead phone, no one’s number memorized and a show that had been only a couple of hours away Regina had put it in her tour contract that she had to be in contact at all times.  She still chafed at practically being under her manager’s watchful eye like a toddler but she and Regina both agreed that it was better than being saddled with a handler instead.  At her insistence Ruby, Tink and Will were also in the group text so Regina wouldn’t try to hound them about her whereabouts thinking they could be hiding her.
Her phone chimed as she debated whether or not to put on a sweatshirt or her leather jacket.
Rub a dub: you know you could leave me out of this now right?
and ease up on the guilt trip I’m taking you on?  no way! She responded, deciding on the sweatshirt and tying it around her waist.
Rub a dub: jokes on you, girly, i’ve got a front row seat
to what? She sent, suspicious and wary about what Ruby could mean.
Rub a dub: if you’re asking you’re not ready to know yet.
Emma glared at her phone for a moment before sending multiple texts demanding Ruby to explain herself that all went unanswered.  She growled in frustration and turned to glare at Killian who was once more leaning on the door jamb, chuckling.
“Ruby’s being an ass,” she gave as an explanation, shoving her phone in her back pocket.  Then she got a good look at what Killian was wearing, “Is that a Reds hat?  I thought you didn’t know the city that well.  Why do you have a hat for their team?”
“Oh, you’re a big baseball fan then?” He asked, clearly surprised.
“David is, I’m more of a fan of the way the pants fit.  Plus the Reds had that jersey with no sleeves last year.  Arms like those tend to stick out in a girl’s memory,” she said dreamily, remembering just how well the players wore those particular jerseys.  Then she mentally shook herself and nodded at the hat, “You didn’t answer my question.”
His lips quirked in amusement, lightly touching the hat’s bill and then the sunglasses that she hadn’t noticed hanging from his shirt collar, “I’ve found that it’s the easiest way to blend into the crowd.  When we were at the height of… everything it was hard to even step out of the hotel without getting mobbed.  Liam discovered, quite by accident mind you, that people didn’t expect to see us dressing ourselves down and to be fans of the local sports teams.  Unfortunately it means I have a wide array of ball caps that one would consider quite a collection if they weren’t solely for a practical use.  If I had a choice I would have donned the hat from Pittsburgh but I’m not quite sure what rivalries are predominant in this city and I’d prefer not to be verbally insulted over the wrong choice.”
Emma gave a surprised laugh.  Just minutes before they’d been having a somber conversation that could have dragged the rest of the day down.  Instead they were joking around about baseball and overzealous fans.
“Should I put on some super elaborate disguise too?” She looked up at him with a teasing grin. “I could get a wig or maybe some of those glasses with the fake nose and mustache attached.”
Killian snorted, “As entertaining as that would be I think you’ll be fine, love, as long as you don’t wear the red leather.”
Feeling offended for half a second she begrudgingly agreed with him.  Her red leather jacket was her signature look, she’d worn it for all three of her album covers and went out on stage wearing it for the first half of the show.  It was as much a look as it was a kind of armor, one she’d been wearing for much longer than she’d been famous for it.  Having Killian tell her not to wear it, no matter how practical the advice was or that she’d already decided on a sweatshirt, had her suddenly feeling vulnerable.
“Do you… um, do you have a hat I could borrow?”
He looked at her for a moment before nodding and moving back into his room.  She followed, shoving her hands in her pockets to keep from hugging her middle to keep herself steady.
As much as the room was identical to hers and Tink’s, the boys’ room looked like a tornado had run through half of it.  There were clothes strewn across the far, unmade bed, a rifled through duffle bag under the window, and a tray of mostly-eaten room service food on the desk.  In sharp contrast the closer bed was tidily made, a small orderly stack of books and notebooks on the bedside table closest to it.  Killian was sorting through one of the drawers of the bureau near the foot of it.
“We’re staying for one night and you put your stuff in the drawers?” She asked incredulously, moving closer to his nightstand to see what books he was reading.
“If it makes any difference-” she looked over at him and saw that he had the bill of a red hat clenched tightly in his hand as his gaze darted between the nightstand and her, “I only unpacked enough for the two days we’re here.  Er, looking for something, Swan?” 
“Just wanted to see what you were reading,” she said cautiously.  Feeling that she’d accidentally hit on yet another touchy subject she stepped back and waved her hand towards the bureau, “But that’s not important, you really took the time to unpack stuff for only two damn days?  Do you also set all your stuff out on the bathroom counter with a ruler to make sure it’s all lined up perfectly?”
“Do you want to stand here nit picking my travel habits or do you want to go explore the city?” Killian asked pointedly, stepping forward and holding the hat out to her though she could see the tips of his ears turning pink.
“Fine, let’s go-” she grinned, grabbing the hat.  Catching sight of the logo on the front she held it up with a sigh, “Really?  Red Sox?  Is it because I’m from Maine?”
“Would you rather wear the Yankees cap?” He challenged.
She shuddered, adjusting the snaps so it’d fit, “Never.  David would kill me if I was photographed in it and I’d never be allowed to step foot in Storybrooke again.”
“Do you have a preference then?” He looked back at the drawer, “As I said I have quite the array.”
“This is fine,” she said, trying to sound like it was a burden when she really didn’t care.  Grinning she put on the hat, pulling her ponytail through the opening in the back.  When she looked at Killian for approval he was watching her with a half grin on his face, “What?  Did I somehow put it on wrong?”
“Nothing of the sort, Swan,” he said softly.  Then his grin widened “Shall we?”
“Lead the way, pirate guide.”
What followed was a day unlike any Emma had ever had on a tour before.  They roamed the streets of the city with Killian making up facts about the various things they saw and their history as she egged him on, resulting in ridiculous stories that had her laughing until she was crying.  To her delight they ended their excursion sitting in the upper tier at a Reds game, thoroughly enjoying themselves as just two faces in the crowd.  Though, when it came time for the kiss cam she found she was surprisingly disappointed that the camera hadn’t been trained on them.  It wasn’t until they’d returned to the hotel and spent an hour moving back and forth between each other’s rooms before parting ways for the night that she figured out what Ruby had meant about having a front row seat.
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tybaku · 3 years
Text
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30691259/chapters/77712440
Midoriya Izuku finds the incarnation of beauty and divinity sitting at a window of a hole-in-the-wall café just a few blocks away from home.
Or: An artist in search of inspiration unexpectedly finds a new muse.
Chapter 2: Him
Bakugou Katsuki finds himself standing at the foot of an altar fit for something more than a god at a quarter to 1.
The day is bright and clear, and the sun is hot on his head and shoulders. It’s too early to be out here, and yet too late, and there was already a thin crowd formed, curled around the centerpiece like a halo, or a crown. Katsuki shifts where he stands, dark eyes never leaving the piece of art on the bricked alleyway wall. He barely breathes.
He had been dragged here not out of his own accord, directly after a nearly two hour long elective class that was nothing but a bore, despite it sounding vaguely interesting down on paper.
“Analysis of Modern Art and Media 101” taught by Aizawa Shouta had been a bust of a class to choose, and each time Katsuki attends he wonders why the hell there is more of the same damn class, judging by the fact there was a 101 tacked on at the end of the name, and also it was probably the most soul-sucking class he was taking this school year. Katsuki doesn’t even care about art!
And yet, he’s still standing here. He’s standing here in a dingy, dirty back alley and gawking up at this piece of artwork like some kind of fool, his hands curling up inside his pockets. There’s a red warmth to his face that isn’t from the afternoon sun, and vaguely he thinks, maybe he could learn to care about art. Maybe he could learn to care because of this and this only.
“It’s me,” Katsuki says, not fully aware of his surroundings, or the murmurs that trickle about the little sea of people in the alleyway that are witnessing the same thing he is.
Because it is him, it’s the best version of him he’s ever laid eyes on. It’s a perception of him so pure and human, and flawless to the point where it’s perfection is debatable, and he has to take another look at it to really see what’s there. He’s wrong, the painting isn’t perfect, but it’s authentic. It isn't flawless, but it’s him, really and truly him; near flesh as it can get with its graffiti lines and colors and shapes.
Katsuki doesn’t want to look away.
Kirishima, the very guy who had brought him out here to view the godly offering on the wall, then pats his shoulder and grips onto him. “It’s you, man. Your mentions are sky high,” he says, eyebrows raised and obviously impressed. He shakes Katsuki a little when he becomes the victim of a dirty looking side-eye, wearing a little frown. “What?”
Katsuki shrugs his shoulder harshly, effectively shooing his friend off. “The hell you on about, shithair,” he says more than he asks. Kaminari’s head then pops up from beside them unexpectedly, with Ashido right on his toes, smiling from ear to ear. There’s a mischievous little glint in their eyes that they share unabashedly, and Katsuki sneers at it.
“Oh, you haven’t heard? You’re trending!” the other, less important blond exclaims, fishing out his phone to wave it around in Katsuki’s face. “Well, more like the art itself trending, but people are recognizing you! Tagging you in the pics on Insta, at’ing you on Twitter, linking you to this one art blog and shit like—” Kaminari only stops when Katsuki starts to bat his hands at him angrily, irritated at the fact he didn’t understand a word he was saying.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Kaminari makes an ugly looking face like he took a whiff of something foul, but Katsuki smells sweet as hell, thank you very much; his shampoo and conditioner have black and white charcoal in them. “Dude do you even check your phone like, ever? This”—Kaminari waves giant circles in front of Katsuki’s portrait as Katsuki himself mumbles a quiet I mute that shit during class—“is trending. Trending.”
Before Katsuki could tear one into him, Ashido pats at her friend’s shoulder, squeezing herself into the terrible excuse of a conversation. “I think he gets it, babe. What Denki’s trying to say is that this”—she gestures to the painting—“is gaining a whole lot of traction right now, not only because it’s stunning, but because the artist is literally one of the biggest deals in Japan right now. Deku’s like, hot-hot. He’s practically famous in the modern art scene, and he just painted your portrait without you even knowing about it. Do you really have no idea how huge this is?”
And, no, Katsuki doesn’t know, since there wasn’t even a reason why he would know in the first place (again, that modern art class sucks, and even though Aizawa-sensei was good enough of a teacher, Katsuki sometimes thinks even he didn’t want to be teaching it from the way he talks and lectures so tonelessly, a whole new level of bored flat) so the only thing he can do is blink, and blink, and glare as he tries to take in this new information.
It’s weird, isn’t it? Katsuki has never heard of this “Deku” guy, despite his supposed status, and suddenly he’s got a whole mural dedicated to him by the guy? He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with any of this, and he can’t even bring himself to be angry about it. He’s just confused, out of place, and so damn flattered that it’s absolutely ridiculous. Someone painted his portrait and painted it well. It should feel freaky, because it is; it’s an unfathomable situation, but it doesn’t really feel anything less than nice. Really damn nice.
“Oh my god,” Kaminari gasps suddenly, the back of his hand hitting the top of Ashido’s chest in exaggerated shock and disbelief, “do you guys know what this means?”
Katsuki’s eyes find their way back to himself. His profile is sharp and frustrated. Kirishima gasps, eyes blown wide in anticipation. “What?” he asks Kaminari quickly, ever the little worrywart of their group. Katsuki raised an eyebrow.
Kaminari goes smug, a little warp appearing in his dumb smile. “Kats-kun here’s got a not-so-secret admirer,” he sings in a tease, wiggling a little in place.
Despite the weird feeling curling in his chest, Katsuki scoffs at the claim, rolling his eyes. “More like a stalker,” he says, but his so-called friends outright ignore him, and turn their attention to, well, him.
Ashido giggles in delight, clapping her hands. “Oh that’s so true, there’s no way this isn’t a romantic thing! I mean, he even got Kats’ little pouty glare right!” she exclaims loud enough for everyone in the alley to overhear, like an idiot.
Katsuki narrows his eyes, and he swears one of them twitches. “My what,” he says more than asks.
Kaminari decides to take the mic, like a dumbass. “You know that thing you do when you get all frustrated about something and you try to pout, but it looks more like you wanna commit first degree murder or something?”
Katsuki doesn’t have any chance to maim him for the explanation he has unfortunately asked for, because Ashido is shrieking again, grabbing Kaminari and holding him close to her in excitement. “Oh my gosh, you’re so right! This is so romantic!” she draws it out annoyingly, before it becomes a straight up whine. “That’s so unfair! Why are you getting romanced and not me?”
And it’s not his place to say, so “Because Spikey has no balls,” stays trapped in between Katsuki’s grit teeth.
Sero then miraculously appears from somewhere behind Kaminari, a muffin and even Shinsou in tow, and Katsuki groans up to the sky when instead of saying something useful he decides to say, “They got that little beauty mark on his cheekbone too,” with a stupid smirk.
Blinking tiredly, Shinsou adds on “That’s some attention to detail,” like it means anything. “Though they missed most of the other ones.” He starts to unwrap his own muffin, peeling back the thin paper with his teeth. Katsuki wants nothing more than for him to choke on it.
“Hanta! Hitoshi!” Kaminari yells, as if the pair of them weren’t standing barely three feet from him. He reaches over and happily pulls Shinsou under his arm as Sero stalks over to Ashido. “Where you’ve been! You missed the big reaction!”
Sero lifts his hand. “Getting a muffin,” he says flatly.
Shinsou nods in agreement, humming in amusement. “Bet he blushed like a flower.” He takes a bite out of his muffin as Kaminari laughs and jokingly goes to bite at the bread.
And if Katsuki goes a little warm in the face at the dumb claim, it’s no one’s damn business. “What the hell does that even mean,” he snarls unkindly, crossing his arms.
Shinsou unwraps the other side of his muffin with his hands this time, and actually allows Kaminari to take a small bite. “I said what I said,” he shrugs, unapologetic.
“Oo, new slur dropped.” Ashido wiggles her pink eyebrows. Sero snorts, and Kirishima laughs amiably at her.
Katsuki has terrible friends, he decides, and they all can go burn in the under. He shoots them all a heavy glare they all ignore in favor of oohing and ahhing at his portrait. Shinsou looks over at him after a quick inspection of the piece. “So,” he starts, giving up the rest of his muffin to Kaminari’s grubby little hands, “what’re you gonna do?”
Katsuki raises an eyebrow, expression and stance slanted slightly to the right as he crosses his arms over his chest and cocked out his hip, leaning most of his weight onto one foot. “Hah? The hell you talking about?”
Shinsou blinks plainly at him. “The graffiti, genius. You think it’s weird, right? Figured you want to beat the guy’s face in for painting you without permission, or something.”
Katsuki frowns. Shinsou isn’t wrong really, or at least he shouldn’t be, but Katsuki doesn’t feel like violence was the answer here. (A shocker, he knows, but can you blame him? It’s like wanting to punish the Earth for rotating, or the sun for setting at the end of the day. Punishing the moon for moving the tides, and many other metaphors Katsuki can’t think of at the moment.)
He doesn’t want to go about this the wrong way. Beating his admirer’s (damn it, he means artist, thanks a lot Pinky ‘n Sparky) face into a pulp is definitely the worst approach he could possibly take. There ought to be a better, and much more appropriate option, shouldn’t there? What exactly should be done in this instance? What could he do?
There’s only one thing, really.
“I’m gonna find him.”
It’s easier said than done in a weird way, tracking down Deku. He really is a popular and well-known young artist, and his art is plastered practically all over every social media you can think of. He’s got his fair share of admirers and haters, and critiques of his more professional work (he’s not just a street artist like Katsuki had first assumed a few days ago, he’s actually got even better pieces than Katsuki’s portrait, if you can believe it) range from big art magazines to small internet influencers. There’s all kinds of stuff about his artwork, including videos and articles.
Deku’s work speaks to all kinds of people, he finds out.
Though unfortunately, there isn’t any public information about the artist himself. In fact, Deku is a pseudonym, and there is virtually no personal information pertaining to him anywhere. His identity is kept closely underwraps, and any interviews with him are all written word (Katsuki knows this because he has scoured all of Youtube trying to find a video with Deku, and has come up empty handed). Katsuki has absolutely no method of contacting him about the alleyway art, and no way of finding him about town.
Pushing his laptop away an inch, Katsuki sighs and takes a sip of his coffee. He’s hit yet another dead end on this art blog in his search for Deku’s damn contact information. It’s terribly frustrating at this point, because he’s so close it’s ridiculous. He’s pretty sure he’s figured out who Deku actually is: Midoriya Izuku, a journalist who looks to be based here in Musutafu, and the guy whose blog Katsuki’s been snooping through for the past three days.
The guy’s got a plethora of articles and photography on a number of different artists, but according to the internet, he’s more known to be a Deku enthusiast, and most of his material stems from Deku’s artwork. In fact, he’s already got an article up about Katsuki’s portrait, dated three days ago. That was the first giveaway.
If you look through Deku’s official Instagram, Katsuki’s portrait (titled Musutafu Delight, after the side of the café it was painted on, but Katsuki ain’t gonna call it anything else but his portrait) was posted bright and early at 7 in the morning three days ago, and Midoriya’s article on The Canvas about said portrait was posted not ten minutes later. Awfully speedy for someone who is allegedly not even the artist of the piece, no?
And if you read through Midoriya’s blog and Deku’s written interviews, the connection between them becomes even more glaringly obvious due to the fact Midoriya writes his articles similarly to the way Deku does in his interviews, so much so that it couldn’t possibly be counted as a mere coincidence. Their wording and phrasing of things is near exact, and their pools of vocabulary are closely shared.
Plus, you’d have to be an idiot to not see where the artist’s pseudonym comes from.
“Deku can be derived from the same kanji as Izuku. It’s literally the same,” Katsuki had explained to his stupidly incredulous group of friends, who dismissed his “theory” on Deku’s true identity like the bunch of morons they were. The only one who seemed even halfway convinced was Sleepy, and even then he just looked amused at Katsuki’s frustration trying to map out what he was talking about to the rest of the group in his overly simple terms.
Anyway, Katsuki had little to no doubt about Deku’s real identity, but that didn’t exactly mean it made finding the guy any easier. Seriously, what kind of a dimwit doesn’t even put down their email on their own goddamn blog?
Deku, apparently.
Katsuki sighs once more before sipping what was left of his coffee and exiting out of Midoriya’s blog with a dull click. Without any other clear leads, there wasn’t much he could do in regards to finding the guy, and he rather not run himself ragged trying to do so all at once. He could always chase his tail looking for Deku later, since he wasn’t really getting anywhere anyway. Such a damn shame.
Unexpectedly a throat clears, and Katsuki looks up halfway prepared to throw a scowl at Kirishima’s stupid little smile (Katsuki told him specifically not to bother him today since he had so much shit to get done, which may or may not have been an excuse to keep on internet “stalking” Deku, as Sparky and Sleepy so eloquently put it), but finds a completely different stupid little smile he doesn’t recognize by a long shot.
It’s a guy with a scatter of freckles all over his face and green highlights in his curly black hair. He has big round eyes and a healthy pink glow to his cheeks. In short, he’s cute, but he carries himself like a wounded animal, a shy and skittish little thing. He looks like a big dork in his glasses and sweater splattered with paint at the hem.
“Hi,” the dork says in a sort of sigh filled to the brim with nerves as his fingertips flinch around the little ringed book he carries in his hands.
Katsuki quickly fits a frown onto his face, intentionally standoffish to lure this four-eyed man away. Somehow, it doesn’t work, and instead of being deterred by the attitude he was putting on, the man sits himself down in the empty seat in front of him, a wobbled smile on his lips. Katsuki narrows his eyes slightly, annoyed but impressed by the gall of the nerdy looking guy.
“Uh, my name is M-Midoriya Izuku, I’m a full time artist and journalist and”—the guy shifts in his seat and lets out a huge huff—“wow, you are super pretty up close.”
Katsuki blinks, and promptly blushes like a flower. (Thanks for that, Sleepy.) He didn’t take Deku for the bold type.
“I, um. That’s not what I—Well, yeah I did mean that, you are very pretty—uh, handsome, but that’s not what I—”
Scratch that, Deku definitely wasn’t the bold type, just the “doesn’t think before speaking” type. Fortunately, Katsuki was well acquainted with those types (i.e. his friends), so he doesn’t find it as annoying as he would've. Plus, Deku wasn’t saying anything bad, he was complimenting him.
“You’re fine,” Katsuki has to cut him off from his quick paced rambling. Every word had sounded like it was stuffed into the last, jumbled and nearly indecipherable.
“You’re Deku, right? I got your message,” he smirks in a tease as he leans back casually. Spikey and Pinky were going to freak when Katsuki told them he found Deku, and Sparky was going to eat his words. (Midoriya isn’t Deku, his ass. All the clues were right there. In plain sight.)
Deku stops, and then color bursts into his face. “How did you…” he drifts off, speechless for the first time since he sat down. Katsuki raises his brows and then holds up a finger in a hold on gesture, clicking his laptop awake and opening up his history tab. He turns the screen so Deku can see all the websites he’s visited in the past three days.
At a glance, it’s obvious everything is related to Deku and his artwork, but Deku’s lips downturn in confusion and Katsuki has to explain. “It’s research. Was trying to find the dork who painted my face on the side of the café,” he says as Deku gives a little squeak. Katsuki clicks the most recent tab and opens up The Canvas, aka Deku’s blog.
“You said your name was Midoriya Izuku? Full time artist and journalist? Izuku can be read as Deku, meaning either you are Deku, you work with Deku, or you’re some freak obsessed with Deku. Your pick,” Katsuki finishes before turning his laptop back toward him and clicking it to sleep.
Deku only gapes at him, eyes wide and shining in something Katsuki could only describe as awe. “You’re amazing,” he says in a certain way that entails he was talking before thinking again, and weirdly enough, Katsuki feels an unexpected warmth in his chest because of it.
“Bakugou Katsuki, by the way. And I ain’t a snitch. It’s obvious you wanna keep your identity a secret. Just knowing I’m right is enough. Did’ya want something from me, Freckles?” Katsuki lolls his head to the side, staring Deku down and ignoring the tingling in his hands.
Deku startles slightly, one step behind and still mouthing Bakugou under his breath like he was trying to familiarize himself with it. Weird, but cute in a way. Deku shifts around in his seat, fiddling around with his fingers in his lap. “Oh well, um. It’s nice to meet you, Bakugou-san, and I, uh…actually had a proposition for you?”
Katsuki wrinkles his nose, but nods at him to continue.
Deku gives him a shy little smile, one that crinkles the tiny freckle above his top lip. “Would you like to model for me?”
3 notes · View notes
springday-aus · 4 years
Text
Rich Kid!AU with Suho [Junmyeon]
moodboard link 
Group: EXO 
Member: Suho / Kim Junmyeon
Genre: romance + lowkey reality check 
Type: Bulletpoint AU 
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: Suho has a black card and what else was I to do with this information? 
yes, I am making Junmyeon into one of those rich ass fuckboys
you know the ones I'm talking about
the ones that have an endless amount of cars
(and prob names them)
the ones who you can literally tell has not worked a day in his life
despite having so much money, he's dressed like a hobo
but it's like the branded shit
like Supreme or Gucci or Chanel
(and whatever else is trendy)
so it’s “fancy”
unless he's gotta go to like a charity event that isn't really for charity
then he's like in a suit
hm.... when he gets dressed up
he gets dressed up
anyways
let's start from the beginning
he inherited his money from his parents, who inherited it from their parents, who inherited it from their parents.. and so on and so forth
so the Kims have like a shitload of money
like
LOADS
like "I can swim in my own money" loads
except he tried it once when he was a kid
lots of paper cuts
also the gold coin thing
wow did that hurt
it was not a fun day for rich kiddo Suho
and this is very stable money, i.e. old money
so you can only imagine the amount of people who are practically kissing their asses to get partnerships and whatever else rich people want
oh my god, when his mother was supposed to get married—it was chaos, literally every man was throwing themselves at her feet
tsk, tsk, tsk—it was just sad
don't get mixed up, their parents are happy together
or at least they seem like it
lowkey it was an arranged marriage and, like all rich people, his parents like to call it a "partnership" more than a “marriage”
anyways back to Suho
if he's being honest about this whole thing, he doesn't know if he really wants to (or is going to) inherit the family business
he’s not even an official heir 
he has an older brother and Suho has watched enough dramas to know that the older ones are most likely to inherit the family business 
so what is he supposed to do? 
sure, they've been showing him what he's supposed to do
but does he actually know what he's doing?
or if he wants to do it?
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
he's been living the same life he's been living since he was born
wake up, eat, shop, go home, sleep
yo, speaking of which
he legit cannot stop buying anything—he sees it, he wants it, he buys it
you know those ugly ass Gucci slippers
yeah, he got those
he bought two of them because they came in two colors
he wore them each like once and then it was never seen again
granted, he was shopping with Taehyung, one of his company managers who Suho had taken underneath his wing
Tae literally encourages people to buying stuff they don't really need
but like
he can afford lots of impulse buys
it's not like he's doing anything else
okay, that's a lie
he's also working at the office, but does it really feel like he's doing anything?
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
anyways, let's get back to his horrible shopping habits
this is very important because this is how you come into the picture
he was out one day with Sehun, walking around one of the major shopping centers
just as they were leaving
there was a protest outside one of the department stores
the CEO had like 50+ charges of sexual assault and he was just let off
and wow
these people were angry
so where do you come in?
you….. you were in the front….
with a loudspeaker….
saying some things that…. no one should be saying with children present….
anyways
you were one of the people who’ve organized the event
because this asswipe was still working and got off with a warning from all of these assault charges????
you were not going to let this go
hence why you’re in the front, with your loudspeaker—spitting facts and roasting this man in front of his business
yeah, y’all were a bit of a smallish crowd
(a group of about thirty people)
but anyways
Suho saw you and
wow
his interest has been piqued
you were cute—yelling into your loudspeaker and your fist in the air
you have so much passion
Sehun has obviously noticed Suho had been staring at you for quite some time 
it’s hard not to notice
just as Sehun was just going to push Suho in the order direction, that shitty CEO steps out
and……. in front of you……
you remained calm, letting his douche canoe spit as he rambles on about how these women were all over-reacting and that you were an idiot for spending your free time here and that you were nothing more than a liberal snowflake
at this point, people were all recording on their phones but this man clearly didn’t care and just went ham on you
and as he pauses to breath, you take your chance: “I’m the snowflake and yet you’re the one who needs to chill”
you see the anger just explode in his eyes and, as he continues to yell, he raises an arm
just as he was about to swing at you, Suho steps in
right between you and the CEO, blocking you and grabbing his arm
Suho: “and what is it that you think you’re doing?”
CEO: “let go of me”
Suho: “and let you hit this stranger? aren’t you just embarrassing yourself even more?”
for the first time, you can see him flush with embarrassment as he realizes the eyes and the cameras that are on him
but then he snarls at Suho: “who the hell do you think you are?”
Suho smiles, but it’s as fake as this man: “I’m heir to the Kim business, I could make you disappear in two phone calls, would you like me to show you?”
he freezes, before yanking his arm out of Suho’s hand and walking off
muttering something about millennials
he finally turns to you, as the crowd starts to disperse
Suho: “are you okay?”
You: “I could have handled myself, pretty boy”
Suho: “you think I’m pretty?”
**cue Sehun facepalming on the sidelines**
you sigh, tired from him already: “I can’t deal with this right now, that asshole is still out there and I’m not resting until he’s resigned”
you turn away, not even bothering to listen to his response and immediately head off
Sehun: “you really managed to blow that opportunity”
Suho: “shut up and drink your milk tea”
later that day, he may or not have used some of his family’s money for something other than meaningless shit
he was looking you up—you’ve done a lot of things and you have so many achievements
as well as enemies
yikes
he’s seen a lot of these people at the Kim’s charity auctions
and at business meetings
and the parties his family throws at their party mansion
oof—this is not looking good for him or these people
so what else does he do?
he does a bit more digging on you
is it creepy? yes
should he be doing this? probably not
so what does he find?
your fb, instagram, twitter—all the social media you’ve got
this is what happens when you have a lot of free time and you’re rich 
he’s not really sure these accounts are your personal accounts though
there are pictures of you and the causes you’re involved with
but they’re not about you
he will admit that he’s very impressed with all of the things you’ve done
you’ve managed to make some major changes
environmentally, socially, and lawfully
(local laws ofc)
it wasn’t done without a lot of damages and enemies
but (from what he’s seen) you’re tough
next week, you’re leading another protest against a makeup company because of their false claims of being cruelty free
and their microplastic beads that’s polluting the ocean
and the high water demand due to the large amount being used in their products
jesus you have retweeted so many scholarly articles
and they’re like 40 pages long
Suho doesn’t think he’s read this much since college
(well his family paid their son’s way through, but you get what I mean)
he makes a note to shop there on the way sometime next week
just do he can see you again
the next week passes, more slowly than Suho had thought
as it comes, he goes ham on his shopping trips—he’s going to ALL the makeup department stores
never really buying anymore because he’s too busy on the lookout for you
he says it’s a “business trip”
(ignoring Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Jongdae + Sehun’s side eyes)
these people are really kissing up to his asses
literally getting up to his face and trying so many products on his faces
it’s like the spongebob episode when all those perfume people are spraying shit in his face 
yeah... imagine that 
his vision is getting blocked and his face is getting caked with every passing hour he spends
just as he was about to give up
the days roll around 
and he finally spots you outside the shopping center with your loudspeaker and protest signs
you’re in a group circle, talking with some other people 
who Suho is going to assume are other organizers
he manages to kind of sneak over as y’all are discussing 
you were discussing the main points and what the game plan was
Suho was just…. there…. 
you didn’t even know until everyone was dispersed to their positions
Suho: “so what can I do?” 
your eyes narrow at him: “pretty boy?” 
he smiles, so stupidly bright: “yeah” 
you eye him up and down: “are you lost? don’t you have a department store to get to?” 
Suho: “this is a department store” 
You: jesus christ 
You: “okay, in case there was another misunderstanding on my abilities, I can handle this” 
Suho: “I understand, I just want to help” :) 
you nearly growl at him, what an idiot 
you don’t realize you’ve been staring at him for a while, until a friend of yours steps up next to you and give you a little nudge 
your friend whispers to you: “he’s a Kim, his involvement would mean more exposure” 
you let out a deep sigh and shoo her away to deal with the stragglers who’ve just joined 
You: “do you know why we’re here?” 
Suho: “false claims of the makeup being cruelty free?” :)
You: “lucky guess” 
You: “okay fine, we’re gonna be here for a couple of hours—he’s arriving soon and then he’ll leave, just as he always does and we’ll have to rally in case he gets aggressive”
Suho: “okay, got it” 
he gives another smile and is so compliant, you figure he’ll be here for a bit and then leave 
but, to your shock, he’s there the whole you’ve been there
which is like two hours longer than the others were supposed to be there 
and even after the whole thing, he asks you what else is coming up 
with another push from your friend, you reluctantly share the information with him from your organization’s website and facebook group and all this other stuff
but let’s be real, Suho already knew some of this stuff due to all of his internet stalking
it doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate you sharing the information tho 
anyways 
he comes to the next one—just as you told him from last time 
and the other one
and another one
eventually, he just makes it part of his schedule to come and help out
at first, you didn’t really think he would show up
and when he does, you asked why
Suho: “I have a lot of free time”
somehow you don’t doubt that
the more he’s been coming, the more interested you were
not in the sense that “oh he’s so attractive for fighting for these causes alongside with me” interested
it’s more of the “what does this sneaky motherfucker want” interested
so you do some digging and it only confuses you more
shouldn’t be fighting his brother for that heir position for the Kim Incorporation?
why is he so interested in being part of this fight that involves… well, him?
isn’t he worried we’ll start attacking the Kims?
a lot of the other organization members notice it as well
because I mean, have you seen him?
(he is very attractive)
but also because this big name hot shot is at these small group protests, when he should be in a meeting or something
it doesn’t mean his efforts aren’t appreciated
he always gets the group things like food and supplies for strikes that last for longer than usual
for instance, you and your organization went to join teachers who were striking for a better contract with the school district
Suho came running with more posters, loudspeakers, shakers, coffee, sandwiches
the district teachers absolutely adored him—they even took pictures with him 
but, you will admit that it’s nice to talk to him, despite the differences in social class 
he likes talking to you too 
(maybe more than he likes to admit) 
it’s just 
you have this fire in your eyes 
the passion in your voice is clear 
and you know what you want and you go for it, without any mercy for anyone who gets in your way 
but you have that sensitivity and awareness and drive to help others that’s the whole point of you even being here 
he wishes he had that
but, these last few weeks
he actually feels good to help you out
whether it’s running for supplies or providing donations for causes you’ve told him about  
he feels purposeful
he feels good that he can help all these people and that his time is actually useful
and now, your organization is getting more exposure, which is nice
…. until the media gets involved and starts to paste Suho’s face on it
and that’s when you realize what he’s been doing
the Kim family had been using this whole thing as a reputation tactic
you feel stupid letting him into this
what you wanted to do was make a change for those who couldn’t advocate for themselves
and now all your hard work is being passed in the hands of some rich guy with way too much time on his hands
so, you did what you did best: dig some dirt on some filthy rich people
turns out there was a previous scandal with the family
they underpaid their staff
lots of people were getting low/little income and they were at a disadvantage because they were in a position where they couldn’t quit
when word got out, they said they would raise the wages
but some people say that these people didn’t
so you’re gonna find out—you snuck around their estate, talking to the staffers about the incident
most were unwilling to talk, but there were a couple of people who shared with you
they talked about they had medical bills, student debt, disabled family members, etc.
they had to work here and have to continue
apparently it was said that they would receive raises, but it isn’t livable—they only had 10 cent raises, but only after working for 5 years at a time
office workers obviously were higher up, but the servant staffers at the estate were taken advantage of
even after it was exposed, they didn’t really do anything about it
while you spent a couple of weeks snooping around
Suho had been at home
his parents were clearly upset because he’d been spending too much with the lower class
Mrs. Kim: “it’s good for our reputation, but you can’t keep spending your time with them”
Mr. Kim: “why can’t you be more like Dongkyu and spend more time in the office”
Suho: “I’m not even inheriting the company, why bother working?”
Mr. Kim: “of course you’ll inherit the company, alongside with your brother—it’ll be an even split”
Suho: “what if… what if I don’t want to inherit the company?”
Mrs. Kim: “what else are you going to do, if not a businessman?”
he doesn’t know why, but your face flashes in his head at that moment
in fact, you might get along with him better if he lost the inheritance
he wouldn’t be able to donate anymore
or get any supplies
maybe his support would be enough
the only question is to whether or not his family would cut him off
so, he speaks the truth
Suho: “I… I don’t know”
it’s been a couple of weeks since he’s seen you, so when he comes to the next meeting…
he was a bit excited
but when he comes
that fire is in your eyes once again…  but it’s towards him
Suho: “hey” :)
You: “so when were you going to tell me that you’re an absolute douche-bag”
Suho: “what?”
You: “your face is all over our hard work and now you get all the credit?”
You: “not to mention, you don’t say shit about all these people who you work with”
You: “also your family is garbage—really? underpaying the staff and lying about it?”
he’s…... speechless
on one hand, you’re right
and on the other…. you’re right
what is he really doing here?
is he actually making a difference?
you, on the other hand, you’re….
you’re amazing
you have been able to draw attention to all these issues
and you’ve been able to make these changes
you might not be filthy rich, but it doesn’t mean you don’t have any influence
Suho can’t really say anything other than…
Suho: “I’m sorry”
You: “you think that’s enough?”
Suho: “no, it’s not enough, I just don’t know what else I can say”
to be fair, you should be really pissed—you are pissed
but he looks so dejected
you remembered talking to him about his family ties and their family history… is not pretty
so you soften up a bit
just a bit
but only because it’s him
the one who always comes with a smile on his face
the one who comes with more than enough supplies because he wants to make sure everyone is comfortable
the one who hangs around you because he knows how tired you are
the one who stays and listens to you rambling for hours about a million different social issues
you put a hand on his shoulder
You: “you don’t always have to say it, sometimes it’s a matter of doing”
thanks to you, he decided to do something
for another couple of weeks he doesn’t see you
but you?
you def saw him
on the news
he got busy
he went on his usual schedule (like his parents wanted)
but this time
he wasn’t quiet about it
I’m talking about pointing out the environmental drawbacks of these products
calling out the people during the “charity” events
cutting of trade with those who don’t give fair wages
he’s even actually been trying to actually raise those wages for the servants in the Kim house 
(of course with the request of your help)
and wow
the news are just having a field day and eating it up
so that ultimately means his parents are seeing all of this
and what happens?
he gets cut off
he’s no longer inheriting the Kim fortune
Dongkyu is getting everything and he gets nothing 
but with your help, he’s a successful business consultant
turns out that business degree did do some good
he helps develop local businesses and the money he makes
not only goes to good causes
but also to help promote your organization
with the rightful faces on it
as for you two?
let’s just say, you’re a lot closer than before
seeing his drive to help others
the effort he makes to recover from his blissful ignorance
you’ve grown a soft spot for him
as for Suho
he’s glad he has you
you’ve made him a better person
made him realize all the different things he can do
you two working together + practically dating?
the organization members are eating it up
(and you’re pretty sure they were betting but no one would say anything to your face)
anyways
dating a former rich kid! Suho is a lot more fun than you would have thought before
lots of dates are at your (or his) apartment
mainly yours because he’s got a studio and has a roommate
(he is broke)
anyways
you spend a lot of time working on building cases against companies
it’s mainly work bc humanity is evil
but when y’all aren’t working
it’s cuddle timeeeee
you would put shows on, but y’all aren’t watching
you spend a lot of time in his arms
or him in yours
(he likes being a little spoon and isn’t afraid to admit it)
and, as his official partner, you are always supported by him
Suho: “WOO-HOO YOU GOT THIS ANGEL”
You: “omg it’s flipping an egg, I’m not receiving a medal”
it’s cute tho
and ofc you got his back
when he was kicked out of the house, you straight up wreaked havoc
all those people were spreading rumors, you shut that shit down
when he kicked out with nothing more than a duffle of clothes, you became his safe haven
you helped him get back on his feet 
found what he really wanted to do
and he was able to find someone really special
you ♡ 
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smutandfluffohmy · 4 years
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“Hey everyone!” You smiled into the camera wondering why you were doing this.
“Hi!” Felix smiled and waved at the camera.
“Hello guys.” Peter said at the camera. It felt weird being on the other side of the camera but the slow declining views your friends were getting snapped you out of it. “We’re being held here against our will.” Peter said as Felix rolled up his sleeves nodding his head, looking at the baking supplies on the table. 
“We’re going to make holiday cookies!” You beamed at the camera.
“I’m Jewish you don’t need me for this.” Peter said attempting to leave not wanting to be around Felix ‘I burn everything I make’ E-Boy.
“No I have Hanukkah cookie decorations!” You said as Felix dragged Peter back into frame.
“I’ll decorate the cookies!” Felix said leaning back into a back counter.
“No! You’ll make Christmas ones and Peter will make Hanukkah ones!” You said pushing Felix off the counter.
“What are you going to do?” Felix asks as he complied and looked at the ingredients in the table in front of him.
“I’ll eat them and read stuff while you bake.” You said and sit on top of the counter with your legs swinging beneath you. Sighing the boys look at the recipes in front of him and you open up a tab with a few fan fictions ready to read them.
“Okay this one is about PumpkinBat. Anddd from context clues I think it’s about Felix and I.” You said tugging your leg underneath you.
“Let me see.” Felix said leaning backwards to try and look at your phone. Showing him your phone screen he tried wiping off the egg that covered his hands to scroll through the page.
“Y/N it literally says who it’s about in the title.” Felix said poking the screen.
“Context clues my ass.” Peter laughed as he continued making his cookies.
“Language!” You said as you shooed Felix away and back to his cookies. Clearing your throat you started reading. “Okay let’s start! ‘Felix looked into Y/N eyes adoringly as the mornings first rays went through the window. He softly kissed her, wishing he could stay in this moment forever. Th-”
“First of all. I don’t know if you guys know this but the three of us live together and we see each other in the morning and Y/n has dried drool on her face every single morning.” Felix said poking flour covered fingers at the camera. Peter laughed loudly as he continued making his cookies.
“I do not! I look amazing in the morning!” You said laughing as the boys continued with their respected cookies. Timed passed and you finished reading the fic between Felix and you.
“This one is between Peter and I! Uu it’s a flower shop AU Io-” You started saying smiling at the camera.
“What’s our ship name?” Peter asked you as he stole some frosting to eat from Felix then promptly getting swatted at with a small spoon.
“Ermmm just Peter X Y/n.” You said looking at the tags trying to find any, Peter scrunched his nose. “You guys need to come up with a good ship name.” He said pointing at the camera with the spoon the was holding. Rolling your eyes you continued reading through the fic.
“And that is all!” You smiled tugging your leg underneath you waiting for the boys to say their goodbyes.
“Wait. You said you had one with the three of us.” Peter said confused speaking before he could think. “Yea you told us you kept getting tagged in one.” Felix said as he bit down on now of his burnt cookies.
“You don’t want to hear it trust me.” You said through laughter 
“Woooowww rude.”
“Trust me you don’t want to hear it.” You said again trying to avoid eye contact, feeling your face get red.
“I can’t believe the false advertisement.” Peter said with a coy smile leaning against the counter besides him. They kept poking at you to read it and when you refused they went to look for their phones.
You could hear doors opening and stuff being pushed down on to the floor ass they yelled from different parts of the house asking you to call their phones. After many pillows being thrown on the floor and grunting they finally decided to just take your phone.
“I can’t believe you lied to us like this.” Felix said reaching for your phone as you try to hide your phone under your leg.
“Fine fine whatever I’ll read it” You said throwing your hands up in defeat reaching for your phone and unlocking it trying your best to hide behind it. “I kept getting tagged in this one on twitter by Pumkinbat and ummm it’s about the three of us.”
“Living together?”
“Existing together?”
“No ummm it’s a smut about the three of us...” You said turning brighter red, when those words fell out of your mouth your two friends turned a light shade of pink. You read some of the sentences you had highlighted and by the end the three of you looked everywhere but at each other.
“Why would you read us that!” Felix said poking at his burnt Christmas tree shaped cookies.
“You could’ve read literally anything else.” Peter said meticulously putting on candy ornaments on his cookies.
“You guys forced me to! This was against my will” You said pointing at them with your phone. “It was borderline a hostage thing!” You said throwing a hand towel at Peter’s head, that missed him and hit him on his back. Awkward minutes melted away as the three of you started playfully bickering.
“Happy holidays!” The three of you yelled smiling into the camera as Peter tried playfully feeding you a dreidel cookie.
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Part 4: Dreidel & burnt Christmas cookies
Social media au: in which Peter & Felix are popular Internet personalities and you’re their behind the scene person. You have a crush on one of your friends and keeping the secret with fan accounts shipping you guys together isn’t making anything easier.
A/N: Happy Holidays! This one is a bit different but I hope you guys like it! (I just finished my semester so I’m just vining rn)
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“And that’s why-” Michael cut himself off. He turned slowly to stare at the group in the back of the room, all of whom were staring at their phones as they exchanged furious whispers. A few people closer to him looked like they wanted him to keep speaking but he kept his mouth shut. 
As the whispers continued he leaned over the podium and rested his chin in his hands. 
“Hey!” Someone yelled. “Can y’all shut up so he can continue?”
The group in the back froze and looked up as if just remembering that they were in the middle of a lecture. The other 100 odd students were all staring at them as they slowly put away their phones.
“Sorry,” one of them mumbled.
“So,” Michael drawled. “What’s so exciting?”
A few of them looked like they’d rather become one with their chair rather than speak up in front of everyone but one guy’s face brightened and he leaned forward. “Alex Manes is on campus.”
The lecture hall erupted into chatter. 
“Are you serious?”
“How do you know?”
“Bullshit!”
Michael held up a hand to quiet the room. “What are you talking about?” He asked the first student.
The guy responded by holding up his phone. From where Michael stood at the front of the room, he could just make out that there was a photo on the screen but he had no way of seeing what or who the photo was of. “My friend just sent me this picture. It’s Alex Manes and he was on the quad 10 minutes ago.”
“Holy shit!” A girl exclaimed as she held her phone up. “It’s on twitter!”
After that the class was lost. Michael sighed as he hung his head. Trust the sudden appearance of a honest to god rock star to disrupt a lecture on quantum mechanics. 
“Okay!” He raised his voice to be heard. The room quieted a bit. “Test is in two classes. My office hours are cancelled for today so if you have any questions come find me next week.” He paused then made a shooing motion. “Now go.”
They didn’t need any more encouragement. Within seconds, all of the 100+ students in his class were up and stuffing their laptops into their bags, a crowd forming as they all shot towards the door in the hopes of finding and seeing Alex Manes in person. 
A few students stayed behind to talk to him but Michael still made it out of the room before class was scheduled to end. The quick walk across the quad to his office took almost twice as long as normal because he had to keep dodging students. Normally, by this time of day most students were finished with their classes and the quad was fairly quiet but not today. The news that Alex Manes, possibly the hottest (in more ways than one) rock star on the planet, was on campus and had been seen on the quad was enough to send the students out in droves. Most of them had their faces buried in their phones, hoping for an update. Two of them almost walked straight into Michael as he tried to navigate the pathways. After the third did walk into him, Michael set off across the grass.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he entered his building, thankful that there were no students in sight. 
“What is going on out there?” One of his older colleagues asked as he peered behind Michael to see the crowds.
“Apparently a famous singer was spotted on the quad earlier and everyone’s hoping to catch a glimpse,” Michael answered absently as he hurried up the stairs to his office. He just needed to grab a few things and the long weekend stretched out ahead of him.
As soon as he pushed the door to his office open, he knew he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
“There’s about a thousand students not 500 yards away looking for you,” he greeted as he closed the door behind him quickly. Alex Manes grinned up at him from his own desk chair.
“I saw,” Alex held up his phone, twitter open. “How many do you think are going to look for me here?”
“None,” Michael replied shortly as he dropped his bag in the seat opposite his desk. “Regretfully, I had to cancel my office hours today.”
Alex made a mock regretful noise. “That’s a shame,” he remarked idly as he tossed his phone onto the desk and dropped his feet to the floor. “Now what are you going to do with your day?”
Michael grinned as he leaned over and braced himself on the arms of the chair, Alex’s hands going to his neck, his fingers already tangling in his curls as he pulled Michael to him. He meant to make a snarky comment but Alex beat him to it. Just as his lips parted to say something, Alex covered his mouth with his own, his tongue quickly slipping through Michael’s lips.
“Hi,” Michael said softly when they parted moments later.
Alex laughed. “Hi.” He nipped Michael’s lips gently. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you,” Michael promised as he kissed Alex again. “This is a nice surprise.”
“Hmm,” Alex hummed as he chased after Michael’s lips. They both dragged the kiss on, reluctant to part. “I’ve got the weekend free,” he whispered against Michael’s lips when they paused to catch their breath.
Michael pulled back slightly. “The whole weekend? All two days?”
“All four days,” Alex corrected with a grin. “I have to be in LA for a meeting Monday afternoon but until then I’m all yours.” Michael had to kiss him again. He couldn’t remember the last time they had so much uninterrupted time together. They’d been making a go of it long distance for a couple of years when Alex’s career really took off and he’d been forced to spend more and more time in LA. Ideally, Michael would have moved to join him but he was up for tenure at UNM and he couldn’t afford to change universities. 
“I hope you weren’t planning on doing anything while you were here,” Michael warned lightly. He started to kiss Alex again when Alex made a strange noise that made him pull back. “What?” Alex pulled a face. “Oh god, what?”
“This weekend.”
“What about it?” Michael arched an eyebrow. “Did you make plans?”
“Kinda might have made a promise?”
Michael stood up and leaned against the desk as he crossed his arms. “To who? For what?”
“To Maria, for-” Michael threw his head back and groaned. Alex grabbed at his shirt to pull him back down but Michael threw him a glare.
“No.”
“You don’t have to go,” Alex told him. “But Maria said Liz is coming back and I want to see her.”
Michael groaned again and gave in to Alex’s tugging. Instead of kissing him, however, Michael let his head drop onto Alex’s shoulder. “We get four whole days and you want to go to our high school reunion.”
“Want’s a strong term but yes. Look, we can do a day trip on Saturday, we don’t have to give up the whole weekend.”
Michael pulled back enough to shoot him another glare. “Between Isobel and Maria? Like hell will we be in and out of there in one day.”
Alex shrugged in concession. “Ok fine, we won’t. But we can try? Drive down to Roswell Saturday morning and leave early Sunday. Still gives us a day and a half now and some time on Sunday to just be at home.”
“You’re lucky I love you,” Michael kissed him lightly as he stood up and grabbed his stuff.
“That’s a yes?”
“Yes, fine, we’re going to our 10 year reunion.” Michael shook his head. “You can call Isobel and tell her.”
“Think she’ll let us stay at a hotel?” Alex grabbed his stuff and threw on his hat and sunglasses. As disguises go, it was pretty shitty, but they’d found on Alex’s previous visits that if they walked with Michael’s arm around him that people didn’t look too closely. No one expected their college professor to be walking around campus wrapped up in a famous singer. 
Michael didn’t deign to reply, he just laughed as he ushered Alex out of his office and down the hall. 
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Anonymous: Hey! 😘 Congratulations for your successful blog!! Could you write a reaction on how would Oneus' members confort their s/o as she is fat and she doesn't like her body? Thanks!!! 💓
A/N: Sorry for the super super duper long wait beloved. I sincerely hope that you enjoy this. Just know that I won’t be using the word “fat” in my writing just because that term seems a bit offensive to me, but I will write “plus-sized” instead. Nonetheless please enjoy this 💓💓💓💓
Ravn
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You and Ravn had reservations at an upscale restaurant. It was mandatory to dress up. That meant a dress and some heels would have to be your attire for the evening. Your enemies.
You ransacked your closet, hoping to find the best dress to wear. You wanted to find one that hid your figure, or whatever you would call this body of yours.
With no dress that fit your desires, you fell onto of your bed and pouted. You fought back tears that threatened to spill over.
Ravn soon entered, pausing to observe the situation before him. “Alright,” he started. “What’s wrong with my baby?” His tone of voice revealed that he already knew the answer.
“I’m fat!” You cried, pouting deeper.
“No,” Ravn countered, trying not to laugh. “You’re plus-sized. Thick, if you may. But, most importantly, you're gorgeous. Breathtaking. Ethereal. A goddess. You're meant to be a model. The modern-day Mona Lisa! The pinnacle of beauty! You're meant to be in-"
"Okay! I get it!" You tried to hide a smile. "I'm beautiful."
Ravn trapped you in his arms and kissed you sweetly on your cheek. A bright smile was present on his face. "And don't you forget it. Now get glammed up, we have an evening to spend together.”
Seoho
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Kiss. “And I love your tummy.” Kiss. “And I love your thighs, my favorite pillows.” Kiss. “And I love your small feet.”
You giggled from each innocent kiss to your body, squirming away from your boyfriend’s tireless affections.
As much as you tried to hide your insecurities from Seoho, you slipped majorly when you frowned on your body. You started saying every belittling statement toward it as you gazed at your reflection in hatred.
Seoho came home early and witnessed the entire thing. His heart broke bit by bit as he heard the hateful words you conveyed.
Now, here you two were, lying down on the bed as Seoho peppered kisses to each part of your body that you despised. And although you tried escaping from his tight grip, you hoped he didn’t stop anytime soon. Because the love he had for you overpowered the hate you had for yourself.
Leedo
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“Come sit on my lap, baby,” Leedo said, patting his thighs.
You chewed your bottom lip nervously. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just sit on the floor. It’s no big deal.”
Leedo pouted. “But I want you close to me.”
You were running out of excuses. You finally gave up and walked reluctantly to Leedo. Once you sat down on his lap, you were cautious of how much weight you were putting on his legs. You knew soon enough he’d tell you to get off.
“Why are you sitting so stiffly?” Your boyfriend questioned, furrowing his eyebrows. He pulled you to his chest, causing your body to fully lay in his lap. “Stay a while.”
You huffed. “Well, tell me when your legs get tired. Then I’ll get off.”
Leedo scoffed. “Babygirl/boy, you act like you weigh as much as an anchor. You’re fine where you are.”
“But-”
“No buts,” he said sternly. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, pressing you into his warm chest. “I want my baby close to me no matter how much she/he weighs. Understand?”
You couldn’t help but feel loved by his words and loving actions. You simply nodded your head as you snuggled into his embrace, thankful to have such an open-minded boyfriend.
Keonhee
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Keonhee plopped down on the couch with a content sigh. He opened the menu to you two’s favorite takeout place before speaking. “What would you like to eat jagi?”
You fidgeted with the strings on your hoodie. “Um...I don’t want anything actually.”
Keonhee gave you a stern look, already knowing what was going on. He sighed. “Jagi, you need to eat. You can’t starve yourself.”
“But all I’m gonna do is get fat!” You whined.
“You’re not gonna become fat, y/n,” Keonhee countered. “If you’re really worried about your weight than you can eat small portions of your food. Or even workout. I could help you.”
You blinked at your boyfriend, utterly dumbfounded. “Really?”
Keonhee tilted his head, shooting you a glare through his lashes. “Of course, y/n.” He lifted his head back up. “I want you to be happy and confident in yourself. So, if you feel the exact opposite, then I’d like to help you.”
A smile graced your face as you gazed at the man before you. “Thank you, Keonhee.” You grabbed his face and brought his cheek to your lips, pressing a big kiss on his face.
Keonhee’s eyes widened from the sudden affection but soon smiled widely, accepting such a lovely action. “Anything for you, my love.”
Hwanwoong
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“Baby, I’ve always been curious but had no way of asking this...” Hwanwoong seemed hesitant on what to say next.
“What is it, Woong?” You asked, continuing on running your fingers through his hair as you scrolled through Twitter.
He turned his head to look up at you from his position on your stomach. “How come you always wear baggy clothes? I’d really like to see your figure.”
You froze, your eyes wide as you focused on nothing in particular.
Hwanwoong sensed your change in attitude and quickly backpedaled. “Sorry. If that was too much of a personal question you don’t have to answer.”
“No, no,” you said quickly, shooing away his apology. “It’s fine. I just didn’t expect you to ask that.”
“Again, you don’t have to tell me,” Hwanwoong stated. “You don’t seem comfortable in speaking on this topic.”
“Well, no, n-not really.” You licked your lips. “It’s just that...I’m self-conscious about my weight.”
Hwanwoong sat up, placing his hands on either side of you. “But you’re perfect.” He knitted his eyebrows together, not comprehending how you could be self-conscious about such a thing. Despite the short amount of time you two have been a couple, he was head over heels for you already.
“To you,” you countered, caressing his cheek lovingly. “But, to me, I look ugly with all this weight.”
“Then, change it,” Hwanwoong stated simply. “If you don’t like your weight, do something about it. But, just know, I love you no matter what number is on the scale. And also know that I’ll support you always.” He took your hand from his cheek and kissed the palm of it.
You blushed despite yourself, smiling sheepishly. “I appreciate you, Hwanwoong.”
He bent down and kissed your forehead before placing it against yours. “And I appreciate you.”
Xion
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“Sweetheart,” Xion cooed, consoling you as best as he can, “we can have fun doing other things at the amusement park. Just because the safety bar couldn’t fit shouldn’t change anything.”
“But it does! It changed everything!” You yelled, capturing passerbys’ attention. You wiped your face clear of your salty tears. “Xion, you really wanted to go on that roller coaster! And then here comes your blob of a girlfriend who ruins your chance on going on it.” Tears welled up in your eyes once more. Your bottom lip quivered.
Xion grew serious, a very rare sight to see. “Listen to me, y/n. I could care less for that ride. I only care about being with you on this beautiful day. You know what? If you want to leave, we can leave right now. Cause, quite frankly, just being with you doing nothing makes everything right in my life.”
You sniffled. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Is it working?” He asked softly, carefully wiping under your eyes.
A small smile appeared on your face. “Yes.”
Xion smiles in return. “Good. Now, what would you like to do, my queen?”
You pondered for a minute before answering. “I think we should continue our day. Just because one ride was a bummer doesn’t mean the other ones will.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m very sure.”
So, joining hands, you two walked off, resuming your day together.
A/N: I love completing writings. It makes me feel like I accomplished so much. I hope you enjoyed this darling 💓💓💓💓
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scarletraven1001 · 5 years
Text
Chained
Summary: He was a prisoner behind the palace gates. She was the hostage of a mired society. Together, they find the will to escape their fates, and the strength to break their chains.
An Aladdin AU. Inspired by this beautiful NovAUmber art of @rutbisbe.
Rated M.
Also on Ao3.
8-8-8-8-8
Note: Hey, look who’s got another new story! While still writing so many others! LOL!
Forgive me. I couldn’t help it. The art was too good. The premise was so beautiful. My heart and soul were screaming for me to write this. And now, here we are!
I do hope you all enjoy this!
8-8-8-8-8
Chapter 1: The Escape
8-8-8-8-8
Run.
That one word was at the forefront of his mind, while his feet carried him manically, rapidly and euphorically away from the only home he had ever known.
His perpetual prison...
The Palace of Kuldahbar…
Sweat dripped down his temple, but not from the exertion, no, never from the exertion.
He was a machine, a boundless source of power and energy, and it was this unique anomaly in his physiology that had led him to such a life.
Run.
Run.
The gates were in his sight, for the first time since he could remember. The golden turrets teased him mercilessly, taunting him with how they seemed so close, he could just reach out and-
A sudden rustling in the trees a few feet away sent his senses into overdrive, and he panicked, tripping over his own legs in his haste, plummeting face-first onto a copse of bushes.
He caught himself mid-fall, his palm pushing against the grass to launch him into a perfect somersault, his trim body spinning in the air until his feet met the ground once more.
Run!
They could find out about his escape any minute now, and he was so close, so, so close…
The gates were just a few feet away…
RUN!
8-8-8-8-8
“Go to hell, you asshole. This couldn’t possibly be worth more than two zenals!”
Bulma huffed as she held a small loaf of bread in her hand, and she glared once more at the greedy baker who clearly wanted more than just money from her in exchange for a tiny bit of food.
“It is eight zenals, pretty girl. Take it or leave it,” he said, holding his hand out for the bread that he knew she would not be able to afford.
With a growl, she almost threw the bread back at him, and as she turned around, she could still feel the man’s beady eyes on her, watching her as she walked stiffly away.
She raised her hands to her head to adjust her hijab, the long shawl that hid her hair as was customary in Kuldahbar, making sure that not a single blue strand was hanging out.
Her blue eyes scanned her surroundings, desperate to find a woman selling wares, but unfortunately, the Grand Bazaar was a man’s world, and all she got were leering stares and catcalls as she frustratedly made her way through the streets.
She hated this place.
How she dreamed of someday leaving the thick walls of Kuldahbar, so she could find a better life for herself.
Bulma knew that she could be so much more than this, a street rat who lived in an abandoned tower on the eastern side of the city.
She sighed to herself as she saw her only companion, her cat, Scratch, make her way towards her, head tilted in question.
“Sorry, girl,” Bulma whispered as she leaned down so that the black feline can climb unto her shoulder. “I don’t have anything today. Looks like we’ll just have to find food through tougher means.”
Scratch simply meowed at her, and Bulma sighed again.
Her melancholy followed her all the way home, to the tall but haphazardly constructed building that stood alone on the top of a small hill. It was the remains of a shop destroyed by a fire, abandoned by its owners in the belief that the spot was inauspicious, causing them bad luck.
Their bad luck, was Bulma’s fortune.
She had claimed one of the top-most rooms, four floors up, and as she parted the flimsy curtains that served as her entrance to her extremely humble abode, she looked around at her belongings, all bits and pieces of things that she had found strewn around town.
Her bed was a cushion stuffed with cotton from discarded pillows, with blankets stitched together from random quilts that she had salvaged from other people’s garbage. She had two chairs that she had hammered together from excess wood from a nearby construction, hacked together with nails that she had literally picked up from a warehouse.
Her favorite part though, was the raised bit of concrete that were the remains of what seemed like a counter, which overlooked a large gap in a wall, giving her a clear view of the entire city.
At the very end of the horizon, stood The Grand Palace.
She smiled wistfully as she looked at the gorgeous structure, with its pristine white walls and sharply angled roofs. The intricate detailing on the edges of the gates called out to her, and not for the first time, Bulma wished that she had been born into a more prosperous life.
It would have been wonderful to be a princess, living in such splendor, with servants and guards at her beck and call, and a beautiful, soft bed that was made out of fresh feathers and silk.
Pulling her legs closer to herself, she leaned back, simply staring at the view.
“Someday,” she vowed. “Someday, my life will be different.”
8-8-8-8-8
It was another day in the marketplace, and Bulma was irritated.
She was trying so, so hard to make an honest living. But how was she supposed to make any progress when she was surrounded by crooks?
Granted, their Sultan was a horrible ruler, and his corruption trickled fluidly down into the very edges of society, so everybody in the horrible hellhole of Kuldahbar was a willing accomplice.
She was hungry, and Scratch was hungry, and they needed food.
The only option left was to steal it.
“Alright Scratch. Just like we practiced. Now, go,” she pushed the cat, and as she watched the small creature distract the shopkeeper, Bulma leaned down from her perch on top of a small wooden cart.
She had a small gadget that acted as extenders for grasping objects, and she used the scissor-like mechanism to reach forward, quickly swiping a loaf of bread and a piece of dried fish while the owner was angrily shooing her persistent pet.
After she had her items, she jumped off the cart, running quickly to crouch into a concealed corner, heart beating loudly at the adrenaline, even while she rejoiced at the fact that she finally had food again.
Bulma glanced back, and saw Scratch completely acing her ‘performance’.
She giggled. The black fur ball didn’t seem to realize that the show was over.
She pursed her lips, emitting a soft huff that only her cat could hear. This was their signal, and with that, Scratch happily moved, running back into their agreed-upon hiding place.
“Good girl!” Bulma greeted, and she happily ruffled the black fur below her cat’s chin.
She moved to put her stolen food into a small bag she had at her side, placing it beside an apple that she had lifted from another cart earlier.
Patting the dust off of her worn pants, she stood, and she was about to walk away when she heard the commotion.
“Thief!” she heard a deep voice yell, and panicked that she had been found, her wide blue eyes searched her surroundings for the expected angry shopkeeper.
Yet, there was no one threatening to bludgeon her for her theft, and now that she really thought about it, the screaming was a bit too far from her current hiding place.
Curious, Bulma peeked out from behind the wooden panels that hid her from view, brushing back the hair that had slipped out of her hijab.
What she found both amused and surprised her.
A man of slightly below average height was struggling cautiously against the owner of a nearby fruit stall. By his actions, it seemed as if he wasn’t even sure what to do, as he seemed hesitant, more confused than actually afraid of the humongous man who held him by the arm, a large sword poised threateningly over his covered head.
He had his back to her, but from what Bulma could see, he was dressed in rather fine clothes. His head cover was of what looked to be satin, and he wore a dark cloak that was trimmed in strips of golden silk. He had shiny metal bands around his arms, and his thin slippers were of fine leather.
“He’s a thief?” she muttered, watching as his head cover fell off his head, pooling around his broad shoulders in the struggle.
His hair was dark, swept up into the shape of furious flames, and his skin was a smooth caramel.
He turned her way slightly, and she gasped.
He had naturally-narrowed eyes that were open widely in his confusion, and plump lips the color of ripe peaches. His face was beautifully-angled, with a sharp jaw that led down into a strong chin.
“Wow,” she breathed, transfixed.
That was one fine looking man.
She snapped out of her staring, however, when she noticed that the hulking shop owner had lifted the sword, about to take a swing that would surely sever the man’s arm.
Without another thought, Bulma leapt into action.
8-8-8-8-8
It was all too much.
The smells, the sights, the utter chaos was beautiful, and he took in a deep breath, uncaring as his sensitive nose was painfully-assaulted by the mixture of sweat, spices and freshly-made food.
So this was what a street market was like!
He looked around at all the people hawking their wares, men of different shapes and sizes, selling fruit, jewelry, small metal gadgets, wooden spoons and earthen pots.
It was maddening!
He picked up the sharp scent of pepper and curry, the gentle aroma of white and green teas, the mouthwatering smell of sugar wafting from a nearby table filled with tiny cakes and bread.
He turned around, pulling his cloak tighter against himself as he listened to the clanking of metal pans, the arguments and haggling of people, the twittering of birds and the sound of horse hooves a short distance away.
The colorful rugs arrested his attention, and he moved closer to a particularly attractive one, a blue carpet with various colorful threads weaving into the tapestry, and golden bits of string hanging out of each corner.
It was only that morning, as he finally looked up into skies that were unobstructed by domed ceilings, that he realized how glorious the color blue truly was.
It was all so utterly confounding, but he was elated, overjoyed to be in the midst of all the uncontrolled disorder.
He moved past the carpets, and gazed confusedly at a pile of rounded fruits in different shades of orange, red and yellow. Were those all apples?
He was pulled from his wonderings when, in the midst of all the scents that were assailing him from all angles, a sudden whiff of something… strangely alluring… brushed past his nose.
It was a seductive mix of jasmine and springtime, of unmistakable beauty and strength, and he stiffened when every part of him went on high alert, his heart pounding in his ears.
He looked up, sniffing eagerly at the air, trying to determine the source of the incredible scent.
Up… up… up…
When the source of the scent became clear, his hawk-like eyes zeroed in on the roof of a small cart, a barely noticeable little structure that was due to collapse at any second.
A small black creature jumped out, but before he could follow it with his gaze, he spied a thin tool made of what looked like wood and worn metal begin to peak out, and, amused, he watched as the pincer-like edges caught onto a brown loaf of bread before quickly retracting.
It slipped out again, only to grab onto a small piece of fish, and a small smirk tugged at the sides of his lips when the person operating the gadget straightened, revealing a small head wrapped in cloth, followed by slender shoulders cloaked in a very worn-out brown vest.
A soft gust of wind blew past, making the cloth on the person’s head flutter, pulling with it a thick lock of silky, blue hair.
Blue hair…
The person turned, and his breath caught in his throat, the sight stunning him into motionlessness for the short second that it took for the person to jump off the roof and into the shadows below.
For the crafty person was a woman; a breathtaking woman, with wide, clear blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and plump lips pulled up into a grin, looking softer than the silk that he wore on his shoulders.
He stood on tip-toes, trying in vain to see where she had gone, and it was as he was desperately trying to find her with his gaze that a small boy moved beside him, apparently reaching for one of the small fruits.
Distractedly, he reached down, picked up a fruit, and handed it to the boy, who then took off with barely a glance back at him.
He took a step forward, intending to find the woman, but a heavy, large hand took hold of his arm, pulling him out of his daze.
“Oi, little man,” a gruff, angry voice said, making him turn to face the source.
A man who looked at least twice his size loomed over him, holding tightly onto his arm, close to the metal cuffs on his wrist.
“Yes?” he asked.
“You gave my fruit away. I expect payment,” the man said, and he noticed that the man had reached down, apparently trying to grab something hidden beneath his fruits.
He was confused. “Payment?”
“Ha!” the man cried. “Thief!”
He noticed several heads turn towards them, and a few gasps were heard from the surrounding patrons when the man pulled out a large, curved sword.
Confused, he tried to pull his arm back, but the man held tightly, lifting his other hand to raise his sword threateningly over his head.
He tried to pull back again, this time with a bit more force, and the movement made the cloth covering his head loosen, falling to pool around his shoulders.
With wide eyes, he took in the man who was turning redder by the second, who was screaming different variations of the word ‘thief’ at him, and he snapped out of his shocked confusion when he realized that the man was about to bring his sword down onto his exposed arm.
It took barely a second for his defenses to rise, as he felt his ki unfurl from within his chest, his spark of anger making the energy from inside him begin to burst forth.
His free hand began to gather up power, and he knew that this man was about to die.
“Wait!”a small voice called, halting both him and the large man, as both turned around to find who had spoken.
He felt his eyes widen, the ki in his hand dissipating into thin air.
It was the girl, the one with the blue hair and eyes, but now she stood with her hair fully-concealed, a sheepish grin curving her pink lips.
“Mister, thank you so much for finding my husband!” she cried, pulling on his free arm with surprising strength.
The large man seemed surprised too, as he let go of his arm, dropping the sword to the ground.
He recovered a second later, big eyes red with fury. “Woman, your husband is a thief! He stole my fruit!”
“Oh, he did! I am so sorry!” she cried.
Then, turning to him, she lifted a slender hand up to slap softly at his arm. “Habibi. Apologize!”
“What?” he asked, confounded.
The girl then turned back to the man. “He just got back from being a war hostage, see. He is very confused. Please forgive him!”
“But…”
“Here,” she began, as she dug into her bag, pulling out another red fruit. “Please take this as compensation. I will keep him away from your store from now on.”
The large man begrudgingly took the fruit, and with a grin, the woman grabbed his arm and began to pull him from the store and away from the prying eyes of the people surrounding them.
Completely confused now, he followed dumbly, and when they were finally out of sight of everyone else, she let out a relieved breath, releasing her hold on his arm.
“Wow. That was close,” she said, before she turned around and lifted her gaze up to his.
Her smile was so bright that it could have blinded him, but he soaked it up, stunned by the naughty sparkle that he spied in her eyes' blue depths.
“Hey. The next time you decide to steal something from the Grand Bazaar, at least make sure you don’t get caught, alright?” she said.
He just nodded, jumping slightly when something soft and fuzzy brushed across his foot.
“Here, Scratch!” she called, motioning for the small creature to stay beside her.
He looked up at her again, mouth gaping, as he tried to find his voice.
“Umm… thank you,” he finally managed, and he watched as the woman’s smile widened.
“You’re welcome,” she answered, before she held out a hand to him. “The name’s Bulma, by the way. And you are?”
He stared at her hand, and slowly, hesitantly reached out to hold it in his much larger grip.
Something akin to lightning rushed through his veins as he touched her, and with a gulp, he stared into her eyes, strangely finding the will to speak as he took in the mesmerizing shimmer of her gaze.
“My name,” he started. “My name is Vegeta.”
She giggled. “Nice to meet you, Vegeta.”
8-8-8-8-8
To be continued…
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