#living a fanfic appreciation lifestyle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kodydrs · 7 months

Text

The Vice Admiral’s Daughter - Portgas D. Ace (|||)

a/n: part 3!!! idk why but this part was honestly the hardest to write and idk why bc i always right smut. um, anyways, this is gonna have like 1 or 2 more parts and then it’s done 🫶🏻 and i’m back to other fanfics (i have an iceberg & franky one sitting in my ideas box). feel free to send in asks / requests, and comment & reblogs are appreciated!!

warnings: ace x fem!reader, pirate!ace x marine!daughter!reader, fxm, 21!ace, 19!reader, oral (f & m receiving), (slight) fingering, cunnilingus, smut, mdni, i’m bad at tagging, not proofread (it’s never proofread)

ib: tagged in earlier post

request: yes / no

You’re awoken in the (very) early hours of the morning a few months later when you’re back at Loguetown. The transponder snail that sits beside your bed feels like it’s screaming in your ear and you groan into your pillow.

‘Hello?’

The voice on the other side comes over clearly, and you’re almost motivated to hang up right then and go back to sleep.

‘Hey sleepyhead.’ Ace laughs quietly. ‘I’m surprised you picked up. Did I wake you up?’

‘No.’ You lie through your teeth, rolling in your bed. ‘I was just walking my fish.’

‘Oh. That’s good… Have you missed me?’

You’re silent on your end of the line, and you can hear Ace’s smile drop.

‘Ace? How did you get my number? It’s private.’

You hear his laugh crackle over and it warms your heart a little.

‘Don’t worry about that. I just need you to come into town. To that bar we met at last time.’

‘The Smog Cutter? That place has been closed for a few months. It’s all abandoned now.’

‘I know, but I really need you to meet me there. Please.’

You groan again, weighing out your options before inevitably agreeing.

You don’t bother properly changing into clothes. Instead you just throw a shirt over your bra and shorts before running out of the house and into the township.

Ace is standing outside of the Smog Cutter. You hadn’t lied when you said it was closed and abandoned. The paint that used to decorate the front of the building had long since peeled off, and you could barely read the name of the place.

‘So that’s where you live?’ Ace said, looking at where you’d come from.

You’re out of breath when you reach him, but you stand up straight with your hands on your hips.

‘Well yeah. It’s the Vice-Admirals house aswell.’

‘They do live well, don’t they?’ He scoffed. You give him a sideways look as you both walk into the empty tavern.

‘Did you just call me out here to make comments on my lifestyle or what?’

‘…I missed you.’ His smile stretched and you’re met with piercing blue eyes looking straight at yours. ‘And I wanted to talk to you.’

You freeze for a second before giving him a “are you fucking serious” look.

‘Why would you “miss me”?’ You ask, sitting on one of the counter stools.

‘Because you’re special. You could’ve turned me in at any point, but you didn’t. You’ve talked to me. And the second time we met, you drank with me and made me laugh. And we’ll forget about the 3rd because that was a little messy, but besides the point. But the point is you’re special and i can’t get you out of my head.’

You listen to him closely, finally breaking a soft laugh at the end.

‘Careful, Fire Fist. You’re making it sound like you’re in love with me.’ He blushes and looks away, and you realise at that moment what he’s trying to say. ‘Oh. Oh.’

‘What on earth do you mean “Oh”?! I just poured my heart out to you and your reply is “Oh”?’

‘It’s an “Oh”, as in “Oh. The Vice-Admiral's daughter was correct in thinking that Portgas D. Ace did in fact want to take advantage of a 17 year old girl that night.’

‘Well, duh. But that only because you said-‘

‘Oh just the fuck up.’ You grinned, grabbing his chin and pressing your lips together chastely.

It takes Ace a minute to register before he relaxes into the kiss, being quick to add more fervour. You wrap your arms around his neck and he steps off his own seat and stands between your legs. He wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he continues to return your kiss passionately.

‘This is stupid.’ He whispers, trying to pull back from the kiss slightly. ‘We should stop. You have no idea how much trouble you’ll get in if we’re caught.’ He smirks, knowing he’s about to get a reaction.

‘Oh. But my warnings for the past 3 years have been ignored? Seems a little unfair.’ He chuckles and rolls his eyes.

‘Fine. But I’m being serious. This is dangerous. What happens if your dad finds out?’

‘He just won’t find out.’ You’re quick to reply, and even quicker to lean back into the rejoicing your mouths. Ace grins, pulling you impossibly closer. You take the opportunity to deepen the kiss. 3 years seems long enough for a starved man. He sighs into your mouth, pulling back to see your slightly dishevelled look.

‘You look so beautiful right now.’

You smile, lightly nipping at his jawline.

‘I want you so bad, Portgas D. Ace.’

He brings a hand to the back of your head, guiding your face back up to meet his lips. He bites down on your bottom lip, inciting a moan from you.

‘That’s not helping. I’m gonna go crazy if we keep doing this.’ He groaned, leaning over you so your back was pressed against the counter, one hand holding him up. ‘But god, do I love you so much. I’m gonna marry you someday.’

‘A bold statement.’ You whisper as he begins to explore your neck and collar. ‘Especially to make to the Vice-Admiral’s daughter.’

He grins and nods.

‘Well, you know me, princess. I like to take risks.’ He winks, coming back up to capture your lips once again. Sweet noises drip from your mouth and they all go to Ace’s dick as he slowly grinds his hips against yours. His free hand moves from your hip down to your ass, grabbing at the clothed muscle. Your own hands run up his forearms, then down his torso til they’re resting just above the waistband of his shorts. Teasingly, you grab his belt, holding him like he isn’t as close as possible.

‘Cheeky.’ He hisses, littering kisses over your shoulders. ‘Don’t make me fuck you in an abandoned bar.’

‘It’d be awfully fitting though, wouldn’t it?’ For once, it’s your voice that drops to a seductive tone. Ace groans lustfully, pressing his forehead against your skin. You bring your hand up to pull on the hair on the back of his neck. ‘Come on, Ace. Please fuck me in the bar.’

He feels himself fold right there and then. All sense of dignity fell out of him faster than he dropped to his knees for you.

‘You’re gonna be the death of me.’ He sighed, kissing your stomach. Wanted hands followed slowly after him, tracing the bumps of your spine. He kissed each of your thighs, biting lightly then smoothing the wound, littering your skin in love bites.

Your back’s digging into the counter as he decorated your body, even with your arms keeping you stable. Calloused fingertips trace your inner thighs, parting them slightly. Black eyes meet yours, the pirate leaning back to look at you.

‘You’re so hot from down here.’ He coos, resting his chin on your stomach.

‘I could say the same about you.’ Your hand finds its way to his face, caressing his cheek. ‘You look good on your knees.’

A fire lights in him, hotter than the one already there. You’re so unbelievably attractive, and he can’t even begin to process how he’d come to be blessed enough to get you.

Your thighs are once again littered in kisses, marks all along your inner skin. Your lips are slightly parted as he gets closer to your core. The only thing obstructing him is your thin pajama shorts. Your eyes met again and neither of you need to speak to know what he’s asking. You nod, holding your breath as your soft, pink folds are exposed. The hand on his cheek moves to his hair, running your fingers through his soft black strands. His eyes don’t leave yours as he takes the final step, his tongue flicking out to taste you for the first time. You gasp, mouth open and your head back. Ace smirks, lapping at your folds, then slipped a finger inside you, watching your wetness already coat his digit.

‘Ah fuck.’ You moan lowly, harshly massaging your breast through your top while the other tugs at his hair. A groan from Ace sends vibrations to your clit, stimulating your core. He smirks against your cunt as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, finding your sweet spot. You’re a whimpering mess in a matter of minutes, and you can feel your legs threatening to buckle beneath you. As if he can tell, Ace adds another finger, stretching you more as he thrusts increasingly deeper and eats you out.

‘A-Ace.’ You cry, tears threatening to spill. ‘I’m gonna cum.’

You’re holding his hair so tight you’re sure you’d have pulled some out by now, but it’s the last of your worries. His grin grows wider, feeling you pulsating around his fingers increasing his own arousal.

‘Cum for me, baby.’

Euphoria washes over you by his command, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back.

Touching yourself for the past 3 years had surficed, but this was by far the most intense orgasm you’d spent in your entire life, and all it took was Ace’s mouth and fingers.

Ace continued to lap at your folds, tasting and milking you through while you shake and shudder in pleasure.

‘Are you alright?’ You nod slowly, taking a moment to look down at him while you struggle to stay up. He chuckles softly, pulling back to look at you. ‘Quite the climax, aye?’

‘Shut up.’ You pant, pulling him up to his feet so you can kiss him again. You cringe slightly at the taste of yourself on his lips, but it’s so hot that you ignore it. As you’re making out, you run your hand down his torso, letting your fingers drag over his abs, then past his belt til you’re delicately palming his erect cock. He groans into your kiss, his body already trembling slightly from both your touch, and the adrenaline.

‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to.’ He whispered, holding your wrist. You’re quick to shake your head, pulling away. His hair is messier than usual, and he looks absolutely divine like this.

‘That wouldn’t be fair.’ You pouted, putting on a sad girl act. You hold his shoulder and turn you both around so it’s now his back pressed against the counter. ‘Plus, you mustn’t think I love you enough if you think I’m going to wait another 4 months to give you head.’

His gaze is one of surprise, but then a soft smile emerges.

‘You think I’m gonna disappear again?’

Your foreheads are pressed together, and you slowly begin to stroke his dick, watching his breathing change.

‘Please don’t lie to me and say you won’t.’

He laughs lowly, hands finding your hips.

‘I promise I won’t leave. Not now that I have you. Do you trust me?’

‘No.’ Your reply is plain and harsh, but yours holds more truth than his. ‘You’re a pirate, Ace. You’ll need to leave whether you want to or not.’

He shrugs, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips and holding your gaze.

‘True. But I meant more in the long run. I’m not going to leave you if you’ll be mine.’ He feels your smile against his lips, and it makes his heart flutter. You peck then quickly before lowering yourself to his knees.

‘I’ve been yours since Day 1, Fire Fist Ace.’

A shallow gasp escapes as Ace’s breath hitches, focused on your movements as you undress him. You’re working slowly, teasing him as you pull him free of his shorts. His hands slide round your face to your scalp, holding your hair back in a makeshift ponytail. A hum escapes at the slight tug. Eyes lock as your tongue pokes out in kitten licks against his tip. His reactions makes your insides giggle. His eyes roll back and his hands shake, hips leaning forward at your subtle touch.

‘You’re so sensitive, baby.’ You tease, peppering kisses down the length of his shaft. He just groans as you moan, your hand wrapped around him to pump rhythmically.

‘That’s because-‘ He’s cut off temporarily by a squeeze to his base and your lips pressed to his tip.

‘Because what-‘ You whisper, finally letting his cock slide into your mouth.

He shakes his head quickly, taking a deep breath to try to steady himself.

‘Because I’ve been avoiding other women since I saw you.’ A moan fills the bar, his dick plummeting deep into your throat. Your face lights up and you feel your heart melting at his confession. With an internal smile. you quicken your pace, stroking where your mouth can’t reach. Your other hand rests on his thigh, running your hands along the skin to keep him calm.

His fingers are digging into your scalp, holding your hair tightly as his hips involuntarily thrust forwards to meet your rhythm.

‘Oh fuck… I’m yours.’

You can hear your own muffled moans bouncing off the walls, and you should probably be concerned about who else can hear them. But that doesn’t matter when your boyfriend that you aren’t going to see for another long while is with you.

Ace’s breath becomes ragged, his other hand coming down to your cheek.

‘You feel so good, princess.’ He releases a long, low moan, his climax shuddering through his body. Your gag reflex kicks in as the fluid shoots down your throat, but you swallow it nonetheless. Common courtesy as he’d done the same for you. He’s shuddering in pleasure and relief while you milk him through, not releasing him until you’re sure he’s done.

You laugh quietly to yourself, pressing a few kisses to his thighs before standing and kissing him softly.

‘Are you still alive?’ You whisper, holding his waist. He gasps, heart racing and shaking, but nods.

‘Yeah… I’m alive.’

‘Good.’ You reply, pressing your foreheads together. ‘Do you need anything?’

‘Maybe water in a minute.’ He laughs, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

‘Mkay.’ You hum. ‘You lie down in one of the booths and I’ll get you a drink of water, ok?’

A weak attempt of helping him to the seat is made before you’re running off to the abandoned kitchen to look for cups. Ace’s eyes follow you as you run, filled with love and gratitude. You’re back in only a matter of seconds, 2 glasses of cold water in hand. You help him drink some of his water before taking a sip of yours and laying beside him.

‘Better?’ You ask, watching his carefully while love clouds your vision.

‘Much.’ You nod slowly, lips pressed together in a line.

‘Can I hug you?’

Ace stares at you with a raised eyebrow.

‘We just gave each other head and now you’re asking if we can hug?’ It’s a dumb question, you knew. But you’d have much rather asked and he’d said no than just “attacking him” and it’s not being reciprocated. You shrug and he just laughs, opening his arms to welcome you into his embrace. A welcome you take very quickly. Your face is quickly buried in the crook of his neck, feeling his breath fan against your skin.

‘If I was to sleep, would you still be here when I woke up?’

There’s a long silence between you both, and it makes the last event feel like a fever dream. It’s a silence that answers your own question.

‘You should come with me. To sea, I mean.’

You sigh, holding him tighter like he’s about to escape.

‘I can’t, Ace. Not right now.’

He hugs you just as tightly, twirling your hair around.

‘I promise I’ll be back soon. Ok? And then someday, I’ll come back and I won’t leave you.’

You’re not quick to respond, but a simple nod seems to suffice.

‘Ace.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I love you.’ You whisper, feeling your eyes start to droop and sleep start to take over. ‘And I’m really glad you manned up and asked me to be yours.’

Ace smiles softly, pressing his lips against your forehead for a long second.

‘I’ll make sure I never stop reminding you.’

You’re unsurprised when you wake up in your room the next morning, no sign that you’d even left (mind the slightly open window). There was a tinge of sadness knowing it would be a long while before you saw the pirate again, but you smile, tracing the marks he’d left on your body. These were the marks of your first time.

taglist: @rotin0

all rights and reserves are copyright to kodydrs on tumblr. this material is not to be copied or translated onto any other platform or media.

261 notes · View notes

slasherhoe87 · 10 months

Note

Happy Monday honey𓆩♡𓆪

I was wondering if you could write a drabble of Michael Myers where you're dating him and he doesn't know you're into men with balaclava's, until one day he's on your laptop for something and he comes across your tumblr page that is full of guys with balaclava's on and something crawls into his mind.

Maybe smut and Michael being dominate <3

Thank you angel🥰

No problem Megan ❤. Ok!... I'm doing this one before work because I feel so guilty about not getting around to writing any of my other requests yet 🙈🤦🏼‍♀️ (I will get to them, I promise!)

OG/RZ/Peepaw Michael Myers x f!reader

18+ for graphic smut, con noncon, implied violence

Michael indulges in his s/o's balaclava kink:

You had been enjoying a cup of spiced tea on your worn-in recliner, scrolling through Tumblr on your laptop, simping over art and fanfics of dangerous men in masks and balaclavas.

You had always had a kink for masked men but until now it had only been "standard" horror movie masks, such as Jason's, Ghostface's, Vincent's wax mask, Leatherface's and especially your Michael's expressionless alabaster mask. Only recently had you come to appreciate the simplicity of the humble balaclava - Ghost from Call of Duty was the catalyst of this new attraction and you jumped head first into the rabbit hole of art and fiction of morally grey or downright psychotic men with toned bodies, balaclava'd faces and piercing eyes that burned through you with carnal need right down to your core.

As you took another sip of your tea you felt a presence to your left. Turning your head in that direction you see Michael standing motionless as a statue at the base of the stairs just staring at you. Top half of his overalls off of his torso and tied around his waist, mask slightly askew.

Instead of shrieking and jumping like you used to when you were not so accustomed to his sudden, silent appearances you smiled and got up from your seat.

"Did you have a good sleep, baby?" You ask as you place one hand on his chest and the other on his strong shoulder.

You receive nothing in return except for his blank gaze upon you, those darkened eyeholes of his mask as eerie as ever.

Not detoured by his normal silence and seeming disinterest, you give him a peck on the cheek of his mask and head into the kitchen to make him some lunch from yesterday's leftovers.

You hear the tv switch on as you pull out the ingredients to make a sandwich with the leftover chicken. As you begin slicing the cucumber you pause for a second to see Michael watching true crime again. You always wonder what goes through his mind when he sees the crimes of other killers. Is he impressed, unimpressed, indifferent, intrigued? Does he learn anything? You guess you'll never know unless Michael just one day decides to break his self-imposed silence.

xxxxxxx

Later that night you're turning your little house upside down looking for your laptop. You were so sure you had left it on the coffee table in the living room but... you guess not? You didn't blame Michael as he had never shown interest in the laptop before, and its not like you could ask him now anyhow as he was out butchering people to death. Yes, you are aware at how desensitised you have become to murder and death. Loving Michael forced you to accept his lifestyle - fast.

Huffing in annoyance you stomp over to the door leading to the garage, knowing for a fact it won't be there but its the only place you haven't looked yet. You push open the door and flick on the light, ready to immediately switch it off again because you hadn't been in the garage all day.

However, when your eyes fell onto the workbench, there your laptop sat surrounded by empty candy wrappers.

"Michael... what the hell" you mumble to yourself in confusion. You can't say you were really mad at him for using the laptop because he was more than welcome to. But you were just confused as he had never shown interest in it nor did you think he knew how to use it.

Scooping up all the candy wrappers you chuck them into the trashcan beneath the workbench and try to start up the laptop. You were met with nothing but a black screen. "Damn. Battery's dead"

You looked at the wall clock and decided to just call it a night. No Netflix for y/n tonight - insert sad face.

Closing your laptop you make for the door when you hear glass smashing from what sounded like the kitchen area.

Heart jumping to your throat you quickly flick the light off and hide under the workbench while looking at the door which lead into the living room. Surely Michael wouldn't smash in the back door?! He had a key and had stopped breaking into the house since the two of you started a relationship. That was a whole year ago!

Before you could think anymore, a pair of legs slowly walked past the garage door and into the living room. You couldn't get the clearest view of the intruder as only a small lamp was on in the living room - the rest of the house was dark.

Your panicked mind only presented 3 options for you to take:

1. Get out of the house and run to the neighbors

2. Either stay where you were or get upstairs and hide while waiting for Michael to return.

3. Get to your cellphone upstairs and call the cops.

Well.. the house keys for the front door were upstairs too and you didn't want to run out of the back door as you were barefoot and there was no doubt glass everywhere. You wouldn't get very far at all with cut up feet before the intruder catches you.

And you didn't exactly want the cops anywhere near you and your home for Michael's sake. So that left option 2. You just had to get upstairs... lots of places to hide and wait for Michael. You also come to realise that you absolutely needed to get Michael a cellphone for emergencies like this. A simple text in this situation could save your life. Why didn't you think of that before, stupid!?

Mentally shaking yourself from your delaying thoughts, you take a deep breath as silently as you can and creep towards the door. You sit on your haunches for a moment, straining your ears to listen for any sign of the intruder when you hear some soft movements from the dining room. Perfect. If you move now you'll have a chance to get upstairs without being seen.

As silently and quickly as you can you scuttle to the - thankfully - carpeted stairs. Just as you're about to take the first step you hear a crashing sound coming from the garage which sounded very much like hard plastic hitting a concrete floor. Your laptop. You must not have put it far enough back onto the workbench when you rushed to switch off the light.

You know for your own sanity you shouldn't have, but you did - you looked back to the dining room entrance.

And there staring at you from in the dark, illuminated only by a bit of moonlight stood a tall figure in faded black overalls and a... balaclava??

Shrieking you turn back around and make for your bedroom - intending to lock the door and climb out of your window onto the veranda's roof and to make your escape.

Your hear his heavy footfalls behind you, closer than what you would like as you scramble to the top of the stairs. Fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins like a raging river.

Michael where are you? I need you! You internally shout as tears begin falling from your wide, frightened eyes.

As you reach the top of the stairs a large, warm, calloused hand grabs your ankle painfully and roughly causing you to yelp. You try to kick at the man with your other foot but he throws his entire weight onto your body causing the air to be knocked out of you.

You cough while hitting at his shoulders and head with all your might but it doesn't seem to affect him at all.

He grabs you by both your arms and hauls you up onto your feet before swiftly turning you around to be pulled flush against his solid frame. You kick and scream as he takes you towards the bedroom where your panic rises even more at the prospect of what he might actually have in store for you there.

"No please don't! Just take anything you want, please! But just don't hurt me"

You are met with silence as the two of you enter the bedroom. He pauses in front of the bed and the tears stream out of you even harder. Your sobs finally overtake your screaming.

Suddenly and without warning you're flung towards your floor length mirror with your potential assaulter and murderer firmly placing his body flush behind yours. His eyes boring into your own through the mirror.

And that's when you see it. The man had positioned himself in such a way that the moonlight pouring through your window would reflect onto his masked face.

Your sobs instantly quietened as you saw one stormy grey eye heatedly gazing at you through the balaclava opening and one... scarred milky one.

Michael?

"Michael?" You tentatively ask as you sniffle - your struggling subsiding.

He nuzzles your neck and cups your breast, giving it a firm squeeze. You know that hand. You know it well.

Before you can think further, you're picked up and flung onto your bed, the old mattress squeaking in protest at the sudden weight.

Your mind gets whiplash at how suddenly your body responds to this new information and turn of events.

Michael climbs on top of you, not sparing you from his full weight. He straddles your hips, his bloodied hands gripping your wrists tightly above your head. His head is tilted to the side, eyes dilated and dark.

Your breathing has quickened, your nipples pebble and the juncture of your thighs moisten.

A sudden slap to your face causes you to gasp in surprise and before you can think on what just happened your thin spaghetti-strap tank is being torn off of you and you're being flipped onto your stomach as if you weigh little more than a feather.

"Mich--" you start but are stopped from finishing your question when a piece of your torn tanktop is stuffed into your mouth.

Your teary eyes widen when you feel your poor pajama bottoms being ripped off of your goosebump laden body too but immediately close when you feel thick calloused fingers run up along your wet slit from clit to ass.

You moan into the fabric in your mouth as two of his fingers push past your folds and into your eager hole.

You can hear Michael's heavy breathing as he roughly pumps his digits in and out of your slick cavern before adding a third and eventually a fourth.

Your muffled moans get louder and louder as your body squirms beneath his invasive ministrations. You feel so deliciously stretched out by his four long, thick fingers that your eyes begin to tear up again.

Your loosened hole clenches at nothing as Michael pulls out. You turn your head as best you can to see him behind you and moan once more as you view his balaclava in the moonlight. He takes both his thumbs and stretches your abused hole open as much as he can, admiring your slick, velvety tunnel.

You grip the sheets in anticipation as he releases your flesh and reaches for the zipper of his coveralls pulling them down far enough to reveal his glistening, red, swollen, massive member.

You mewl at the sight and wiggle you bottom in eagerness and want.

Michael obliges by roughly pushing your head back down into the mattress and without any indication rams his heavy, weeping cock into your needy pussy.

You scream and grip your sheets harder as he sets a brutal and unforgiving pace - no slow buildup or sensuality for this one. You can scarcely take it. Tears stream down your cheeks, saliva pools into the fabric stuffed in your mouth and your ass and hips jiggle and ripple with every brutal thrust.

Michael's hand leaves your smushed head and grips your hips in bruising force.

Your room is dark and quiet save for the sound of slick skin slapping against slick skin, grunts of exertion and muffled mewls and moans.

Just when you think you can't take anymore, Michael goes deeper and harder, stretching you wider with his monstrous girth, the tip of his cockhead punching against your cervix in exquisite pleasure-pain.

Your cheeks are hot and red, tear stained. Drool has finally broken past the fabric in your mouth and is dripping onto your sheets. Slick is running down your thighs as your loosened hole just cannot contain your shared juices any longer.

Michael leans forward to squeeze your breasts before pinching your nipples so hard you feel your pussy release a new spurt of moisture.

You want to tell him you cannot take anymore. Your body is turning to jelly, the pleasure plain is becoming overwhelming - every nerve of yours is on electric fire and if you produce any more drool you'll surely choke on it.

Michael leaves your breasts and instead begins his cruel ministrations onto your swollen, throbbing clit.

You begin to feel the tightening in your core, your lower abdomen tenses and you can hear Michael fast approaching his own orgasm too if those quiet gasps and slight jerks in his thrusts are anything to go by.

And finally with one hard slap to your clit and one final deep, bruising thrust inside your wrecked cunt you scream out your orgasm into your tanktop. Your abused pussy quivers and clenches around Michael's pulsating cock as it spurts out its thick ropes of cum within you.

Michael's breaths are heavy and laboured behind you as he pulls out. You hear the sopping squelch and feel the gush of liquids flow out of your red, raw, gaping cunt which is trying in vain to clench and hold onto all the juices that now pouring onto your bedding.

Your jellified arm slowly pulls the now sopping fabric from your mouth before you look behind to Michael. His toned and scarred chest is heaving and glistening with sweat. His eyelids sit low from satisfaction and his fingers idly circle your hips where they lie.

"You saw my.... interests on Tumblr didn't you? That's why you did all this tonight, right?" You ask lazily as you roll onto your back and look up at your still masked lover.

Michael tilts his head and continues to stare at you in silence. He reaches for the base of the black mask and pulls it off of his head and shakes out his dark blond curls. He tosses the mask onto your chest and disappears out of the bedroom.

You shake your head and smile to yourself as you clutch the balaclava.

You will always love Michael best in his signature white mask, but a bit of fun in a balaclava from time to time will certainly be a treat.

Perhaps you can show him all of your other kinks now too, seeing as he seems happy to indulge you. And maybe he has some of his own?

You get up to go enjoy a nice hot shower. Sore and stiff, but very very happy.

@megangovier20 hope you enjoy it girl. 😈

Not proof read as I did this before work.

#michael myers #og michael myers #rz michael myers #peepaw michael myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #michael myers x y/n #slasher smut #slasher #balaclava #halloween #halloween 1978 #halloween 2018 #rz halloween #slasher fucker

262 notes · View notes

communicationthroughlyrics · 9 months

Text

Master List

18+, Men and Minors DNI- Do not repost works without permission!

WLW, Celebrity Fan-fiction. Heavy use of song lyrics for themes and storylines, and I don't like to write short fics. This is my first fanfic blog in a long time- I appreciate reading everyones comments on my work! Focused on Scarlett Johannson and her characters, Elizabeth Olsen, AJ Cook, Blake Lively, etc.

Bonus points to those who can guess all the lyrics being used :]

Current Series: I Like Your Blood On My Teeth Just A Little Too Much (ScarJo)

ONGOING

You’re a former military, career oriented security executive who has made quite the living for yourself- but it has always been lacking. Your non-committal attitude has led you down a playgirl lifestyle, never really settling. What happens when your new boss throws you a curveball, and as a result? You end up hopelessly involved with a Hollywood starlet. (Warnings: Smut, Strong Language, Violence, Stalking, Death Threats, Implied Abuse/Sexual Abuse, Flashbacks to War/PTSD)

*More warnings will be added as I write*

Ch. 1 - Are You at One, or do You Lie?

Ch. 2 - We’re Hiding Like a Shadow in the Dark

Ch. 3 - All This Money and This Pain Got Me Heartless

Ch. 4 - Fuck Around and Damn Near Die in it

Ch. 5 - You Pulled Me Under Just to Save Yourself

Ch. 6 - You Blame Me for Everything You Hate

Ch. 7 - Fall Down Before Me, I Want You on Your Knees

Ch. 8 - The Weight That’s Crushing can be Relieved

Ch. 9 - I Have a Growing Fear and You’re Not Helping Me

Ch. 10 - I Pulled Off Your Wings, Then I Laughed

Ch. 11 - Army Green Was No Safe Bet

Ch. 12 - Whisper on a Scream, Doesn't Change a Thing

Ch. 13 - Digging Up the Dirt, You Get to Meet All Sorts

Ch. 14 - I Just Want You to Know Who I Am

Ch. 15 - The Only Thing You Brought Is Psychological Warfare

Ch. 16 - You're Gonna Get What's Coming to You

View the Story Board for this pic HERE

______________________________________________________________

One Shots, Drabbles and Stuff

S.J. - You Hold Your Hands in the Air, Screaming My Name

S.J. - So Fucked Up, From the Way That You Touch - Pt. 1. Pt. 2.

E.O. - Our Fire When We're Together, Mixed With Paranoid Manners

N.R. - I Got a Secret, So I'ma Drop ‘Em to the Floor (Christmas Fic)

W.M. - Easy to Love (FLUFF)

J. J. - It's Time to Let Her Know What You Need - Pt. 1 Pt.2

62 notes · View notes

terrainofheartfelt · 1 year

Text

Gossip Girl Appreciation Week | Day 6: AU

The Grossly Indulgent Pop Music AU I will never write:

Inspired by one of the only Jonerys fics I like.

Not quite a fic, but not not a fic, here’s an unhinged idea that grabbed hold and wouldn’t let me go. The music is a loose jumping off point of inspiration, in that all the characters have one or two artist equivalents. I use their music as the characters’ work in this universe. So it’s like an AU of pop musicians’ lives, but not really, since I don’t know their biographies, just their music. It’s fanfic, you know how it is.

Enclosed beneath the cut you shall find: dairfair, negatively painted jenny/damien & chair, some positive jenate, and a inkling at my newest ot3 vanessa/aaron/serena. And lots of opaque music references.

image sources: (x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

Blair and Serena come up in a lab-grown pop girl group in their teens (sample track here), but break off for their own solo acts after a few years. They have a friend breakup after that. Diss tracks are written. (Inspo: Honey & Bad Blood) the final (supposedly) proverbial nail in the coffin of their friendship is when Blair marries record label exec Chuck Bass.

(Needless to say, Chuck is a piece of shit. Living off family money and power, using his title to back young women artists into a corner. Blair thinks she conquered the beast by putting a ring on it but, well, you know.) (While Jenny Humphrey is coming up she’s one of the artists Chuck harasses. She refuses to sign with his label and tells him to fuck off.)

The rumors as to why their girl group break up run wild, and they mutate with each tabloid run, growing more and more ridiculous, but, like many rumors, they did spring from a small seed of truth.

Blair was ambitious, and always used the act as an opportunity to set herself up for a solo career. Serena was her best friend, but whereas Blair had to work hard at everything that came with this job, it was like Serena didn’t have to try at all. She was the darling of the interviews, of the fans. The favorite on the covers of magazines and music videos. Serena was getting solo offers since their debut, but turned them down, until she didn’t.

Their group toured with a team of dancers, also all carefully selected by the label. Nate Archibald was one of the fan favorites, and the label quickly paired him and Blair together for publicity. Blair was always just a little more invested than Nate was. He wasn’t even sure if this career, this lifestyle was what he wanted, but Blair was more than sure, was constantly working to get ahead. But the label kept them together, until they figured they could pair Nate with Serena instead. (And Nate didn’t fight it, because he’d always carried a torch for Serena anyway).

It wasn’t the first fight between the friends, nor the last, but it was the big frisson that they couldn’t come back from. The group held on for another album, but it was clear that they couldn’t go on. Blair and Serena signed solo contracts, and Blair got close with Chuck Bass, and that was the final straw for Serena.

Nate tried to stay friends with both of them through it, but he was also coming to the conclusion that he didn’t want to keep up this lifestyle. He quit performing to go to school, and he found his niche teaching dance to kids—not at a university level, not with the intention to make future professionals, but just to young people looking for something to love. It suits him, and he becomes a reality check for his two high profile best friends. Or he tries to be, but their lives keep pulling them away from New York, so he sees them less and less.

(The other two members of the group move on to other adjacent things. Kati founds her own fashion label—available in Targets everywhere!—and Iz becomes a judge on one of those America’s Got It Factor Talent Shows).

Post girlgroup, Serena runs a Kesha-like life, pop hits made for club dancing. Her character is much more glittering and reckless than Serena might prefer to be, but she’s in the game so long that it sort of – becomes her from time to time.

Serena works tirelessly, keeps trying to break out of her brand of the out of control party girl, but her label, the one she was brought up on, founded by her maternal grandfather, wants her to keep making what sells. Her brother Eric tries to fight her corner, but he’s only a junior employee. After a handful of solo albums and years of endless touring, she burns out. Eric gives her a place to be and rest, and she tries to figure out what the hell she’s going to do. She wants to make more music, but of what?

Blair is taylor-esque, clinging to her brand of The Good Girl from her teen career into adulthood. The reputation and her general effervescence add sparkle to the Bass brand, clean it up a little. It’s a symbiotic business relationship, until it isn’t.

Chuck progressively tries to exercise more control over the music she puts out, to the point that Blair just…doesn’t. Her last album under the Bass label is the one she released with tracks that allude to their relationship, her victory lap for landing the billionaire bachelor whale, as it were (Style, Wildest Dreams, Wonderland, I Know Places). She’s more clever than some give her credit. For example, the tongue-in-cheek “Blank Space” belies an artistic self-awareness. Which is why, even though they aren’t in the same genres, Jenny Humphrey respects her.

Speaking of Jenny: the Humphreys!

Rufus Humphrey, frontrunner of the early 90s outfit Lincoln Hawk, enjoyed a good run when his kids were little, then a less lucrative run as a solo artist, before he finally settled into producing. He runs a small, proud independent label with his old bandmate, and they pride themselves on supporting talent that the bigger corporate labels pass over. Both his kids, Dan and Jenny, make music with him.

They grew up playing piano, then graduated to guitar, then spiraled on from there. Dan joins his first band when he’s sixteen, playing keys for his best friend’s big sister’s band. Ruby Abrams and her bandmates affectionately call him an honorary lesbian, and after gigging with them for about a year, Dan comes out as bi. (his three sisters: Jenny, Vanessa, and Ruby, are already out)

His best friend Vanessa is also a musician. She tries to go the classical route, wanting to usurp her parents’ and her sister’s expectations, but ultimately finds her happy in the indie folk niche that Rufus curates. (Think Lucy Daucus & Maya Hawke) Vanessa’s favorite instrument is bass, but she can find her way around a keyboard or guitar.

Jenny is the real prodigy, though. She has her guitars and piano and even a mandolin, but she’s restless at sticking to just one sound, so she experiments with them all. Fulfilling, absolutely, but it’s a long time before she puts out a full length record.

Dan and Jenny’s parents break up while the kids are in college. With Rufus touring as much as he was when they were young, Alison did the heavy lifting raising them, and now that they’re grown she kind of – has a Mom Drop. She moves back home to the Bay Area, and Dan ends up following her to California, needing to get out of New York and get some distance from his dad.

Jenny stays in New York, taking classes, making music. She starts dating a much older artist—he’s not on her dad’s label (which is part of the appeal) —but he has a complimentary sound. After the mess that was her model gf Agnes, Jenny is hoping for something steadier, but that’s not what it becomes. Being with Damien Dalgaard, darling of the Guy with Guitar genre, ends up being more of a mindfuck. (John Mayer. Damien’s basically John Mayer.)

Rufus tries to put his foot down (even though Jenny’s an adult) and Vanessa tries to help, but it’s one of those things where the toxic relationship just has to run its course, even if it puts Jenny into major spotlight for the first time. It’s rough on her, but she makes it through and out of the relationship. And, at least she comes out of it with enough material to graduate from EPs and make for her first full length album: Badlands.

Jenny starts out this au Halsey-like, but evolves her sound back to her rock folk indie origins, a sound like Julien Baker.

Meanwhile, Dan tries his luck as a musician on the West Coast, immersing himself in the scene there. He joins the roster of another band, and has enough skill to make income as a session musician to cover the difference, which leads him to another band. He still tries writing, but he’s so busy making other people’s music come alive that he doesn’t get far.

At one concert or another he bumps into Serena van der Woodsen. She’s fun, and smart, and stupid hot, and more miraculously, she is into him. They date for a while, but her life in the spotlight as a partying popstar gets more and more chaotic, and Dan can’t keep up, and he’s not really sure he wants to. The break up amicably, but it still stings enough to generate some songs, ones he doesn’t have time to record.

He keeps dating around. Serena sets him up with one of her friends, an actor, Carter Baizen, but he works so much too that it doesn’t go anywhere at the time. And then, there’s Georgina,

At the beginning, Georgina the heiress from Bel-Air just seems like another in a line of innocuous bad decisions Dan’s made since moving to LA. She’s crazy, but she’s hot, and fun, and it’s a good time until it fizzles out.

Then, months later, when Dan’s offered a spot in a backup band for someone, Georgina shows up at his door, pregnant.

The Milo plot unfolds, Dan steps away from his music, works only on what will pay bills and keep life stable for the baby. Georgina flakes, and flakes, until she doesn’t, until she decides to tell Dan the truth about Milo’s paternity and take him with her, all the way back to her parent’s mansion in Connecticut.

After everything, his parents, Serena, Georgina, everything going on with Jenny, Dan just kind of…breaks. He deflates, struggles, holes up in his crummy apartment on the eastside of Los Angeles until Vanessa bullies him into coming back to New York.

Being around each other again helps the Humphrey siblings reset. Jenny is already promoting Badlands, and Dan becomes her roadie, proudly cheering her on from the sidelines, even while the contents of her lyrics are absolutely gutting.

He keeps trying and failing to write, until both V and Jen tell him that he’s trying too hard to “make it into something.” Jenny just tells him to write and see what comes out, and however it sounds, it sounds.

So he does. It’s not quite the folk his mother raised them on, or the 90s rock of their dad, or the punk that Dan’s been a support player in all these years. It’s softer than that, but more jagged too. But he plays a demo for Jenny and Vanessa and keeps on going.

Jenny is a big believer in using songwriting as some sort of “exorcist.” Spit out all the bad shit, pour it into a song, put it into a vessel that doesn’t hurt you anymore. Dan’s style is a little bit different from his sister’s. She’s braver than he is – is okay to take her emotion and throw it out into her singing, but Dan thinks he might not be that tough.

For example, the stuff about Milo, Dan can’t even say it directly. He writes about it sure, but it comes out a mess, until he’s not sure if he’s talking about himself, or Milo, or even Georgina. He can’t even bring himself to mention either of them by name, just names a song after an approximation. Georgia. He also writes his first of many storytelling songs: You Missed My Heart.

He gets enough positivity from the demo for a record deal, and the leading single, Motion Sickness, does better than Dan thought it would. He says it has to be because there’s more residual interest in one of Serena van der Woodsen’s exes than he thought. Jenny and Vanessa share a look, because he really is that good though.

And after years of work behind the curtain, Dan Humphrey is getting vested interest in his own songs, and what’s more, he’s written something worth singing. Stranger in the Alps launches an entirely new phase of his career, and, as it turns out, his personal life.

Blair doesn’t travel in the circles of the mid-level artist, but at a festival, purely by chance, she ends up in Dan Humphrey’s car.

It’s not Dan’s first festival gig, but this is definitely the biggest, and the best spot he’s ever gotten in a lineup. The true sign that he’s on the up and up, though, is that he’s provided transportation.

After sound check before his gig, he’s herded back to his car, to go back to his hotel before he goes on later tonight.

But then this girl gets in with him.

Blair had had it with her handler (her husband’s goon), and paparazzi were starting to catch the scent—as far as the public knew, she still had the perfect fairytale dream marriage—so she co-opted this nobody indie guy’s ride as her getaway car.

Dan’s bewildered, and irritated, but also kind of charmed. It’s a nice break in the routine, accidentally kidnapping a princess of pop.

He invites her to see his set, which she scoffs at, but she googles him as soon as she’s back in her hotel room. And then, she pulls strings so she can watch his set from backstage. (He covers “I’m on Fire,” and she absolutely does not think that it’s hot).

They have a drink in the green room after, and don’t stop talking until a festival staff person kicks them out because the venue’s shutting down for the night.

AND SO IT BEGINS.

She arranges for him to see her headlining set, and then after, she asks him what he thought, and he tells her. Like, actually tells her. She’s a good artist, with talent, but she keeps dumbing it down, and why?

He essentially says she’s better than this, and she tells him to fuck off, and tells him that just because not every single one of my songs is about angsting alone on the bedroom floor doesn’t make me shallow, Humphrey. (and that’s his Moment.)

She’d been after compliments, some vague idea that he’d be blown away by how good she is, and she’d get a positive review for once. Which is so stupid, why should she even care what a nobody like Dan Humphrey thinks?

But he is not a nobody, not anymore.

She looks him up after the festival. His star is definitely rising. A child of nepotism, his father was in a popular band in the late 80s and early 90s, and so Dan and his little sister grew up close to the business. Humphrey’s been in a couple bands since he was sixteen (started young like her), but after those broke up, and a couple lost years that google can’t account for, he released a solo album and just like that, people are paying attention, beyond just the indie bubble.

Blair recognizes his sister, Jenny Humphrey, and even has one of her albums saved in her library. Not something Blair would make, but it’s decent.

She digs a little more, trying to figure out those lost years, but comes up empty. She does find, however, that Humphrey famously dated Serena a few years back, Google is rife with paparazzi photos of them in LA. And he accused her of making shallow music? Serena’s solo work is nothing but her belting about parties and drugs and sex to heavy beats. Club music. Music to have parties, drugs, and sex, too.

Finding out his history with Serena is enough for Blair to write off Dan Humphrey as a hack, an aberration. A way to pass the time at a festival gig and distract herself from her own life.

But, Blair finds Dan Humphrey is becoming increasingly unavoidable. He’s doing one talk show appearance while she’s at another studio a few floors up. He’s moved back to New York, he tells her, just until he goes on tour again. He invites her to a show, at some dive in Brooklyn she’s never heard of. For that, she nearly doesn’t even go.

But then, she does.

For security reasons, she sneaks in the back, aided by her assistant Epperly, and watches from the closet that counts as a backstage. It’s an acoustic set, and Dan plays arrangements of his solo album (that she absolutely did NOT listen to), plus some covers. In fact, he covers one of her songs. “Blank Space,” mashed up with “Stand by Me.” He introduces it by saying, “I really love the melodies in this song, I think it’s just really good melody writing.” And it feels like…an apology.

They keep meeting up, but now, it’s on purpose, not accidental. They’re both in New York for the time being anyways, Dan is getting some rest before the European leg of his album tour, and Blair is supposed to be working on a new album before her own, but she’s got…nothing. Less than nothing. And Chuck knows that, which means it’s harder and harder to have him around.

Besides, there’s no rule that she can’t have friends. Honestly, with how her career is, she doesn’t really have any. There’s Epperly, and Dorota, maybe Nate. She’s married, but she’s not sure she would call Chuck her friend.

She and Dan though, they have a real connection. And they can be just friends.

Since she has absolutely no new songs to record, she leaves for Europe a couple weeks early, she tells Chuck it’s to visit her parents in Paris and get inspired, but then, at the last minute, she changes her itinerary, and goes to Dublin instead, where Dan’s first gig is.

Blair’s been letting herself and this friendship live in plausible deniability, but as she’s learned more about Dan, about the kind of person and artist that he is, she knows that isn’t really his thing, and when she appears at his show in Dublin, he refuses to let it go, and Blair, worn thin by…literally everything else, can’t keep up the denial anymore, and tells him to bring her back to his hotel.

It’s a mistake, it’s such a mistake. Blair’s life is already precarious enough as it is. Chuck’s label owns her contracts, her catalog, and basically her. She’s been over and over it, and can’t see a way out. She wanted to be on top, and that was the price.

But, Dan.

Being with him feels like waking up after spending her entire adult life asleep. She’s excited about music again, about making something. She writes, then hides it all away, because she can’t record songs about being in love with someone else on her husband’s dime.

She has her tour, and Dan has his, but they meet on every overlapping date. Sometimes she’s so tired after a concert all she has energy to do is sleep in his arms, but even that stolen time feels sacred.

When their tour legs end, Dan tentatively asks if it’s the end, but she really doesn’t want it to be.

He’s back in New York City at first, so that’s easier, and harder, because Chuck is there too. Thankfully, Blair’s sales were high enough that she’s in his good graces, and when she slips away it’s easy enough to say she’s working on something new. She practically sees cartoon dollar signs flash in Chuck’s eyes when she does. How she ever thought that this could be her happily ever after, she’ll never know.

She and Dan talk about that, about living in stories and wanting fairytales but being smacked down by real life. She tells him that she doesn’t feel like she belongs to herself anymore, how she doesn’t want to write anymore if it means that Chuck will profit off it, but if she walks away, all those things she believed, promised, sung, was all of it for nothing?

She wrote love songs about Chuck, for Chuck. Her life’s work is tangled up in him, and she’s not sure she wants to pull away from all of that, much less if she even could.

Dan tells her about Milo, about loss, about the shadow his father cast and how hiding in it was safe so he didn’t try to break out of it, but now he’s out. He talks about loving his parents but resenting them for not staying in love, and resents himself for falling out of love in the past.

“What did you do about it?” she asks him.

He waggles his eyebrows at her, and reaches behind him to grab his guitar.

It’s unfair, she knows it’s unfair. Blair comes to rely on Dan too much, to center her, to hold her, to love her even when it’s not his place. But she keeps going to him, and he’s always there, arms open.

He’s writing about her. She knows before he even tells her. She can sense it sometimes, when he’s looking at her, and she just knows he has lyrics running in his head.

But it’s unfair. He’s bicoastal, going to and from LA for gigs and appearances. When he’s gone, Blair does her own, always beginning and ending with paparazzi shots of her on Chuck’s arm, smiling like she’s still in love with him. Her heart belongs to someone else now, but she’s afraid she’s in too deep to break away.

In the meantime, Dan, Jenny, and Vanessa come back to their roots: each other, and decide to do a project together, write an EP (boygenius. It’s boygenius). They have a fair mix of songs, and all of Dan’s lyrics are fed by his relationship to BLair, that he’s told no one about, but it bleeds out of everything he writes. They’re approaching an impasse, he can feel it, but selfishly, he wants to avoid it as long as possible, to keep her as long as possible.

In addition to his EP with Jenny and Vanessa, Dan has a deal for a next record, and a handful of songs to put on it already. When he’s in LA, he’s working on his own music, and when he’s in New York, he’s either working with Jen and Vanessa, or he’s with Blair.

But it can’t last. Blair is feeling the pressure from Bass Records, and if she were to get caught in an affair, or separate from Chuck, Chuck would hold her catalog hostage. Her entire life’s work wouldn’t be hers anymore. And maybe Dan’s right when he says that she can’t stay with her husband, but she’s right when she says she can’t leave him either.

She can’t even record new music for the label either, because everything new she’s written is covered in Dan. She even wrote a song about that. She is covered in him.

But Dan has his own wounds, and they make him push, and push, and self sabotage, and after one gruesome, draining fight, Blair calls it off.

In the meantime, Jenny and Vanessa are doing work of their own, on their music and on themselves.

Vanessa plays her solos up and down the east coast, through the Midwest, and back in New York. Through Rufus, she meets Aaron Rose, a jack-of-all-trades of sorts. Like Rufus, he was a musician first, but mostly works now as a producer. They hit it off, and after working on a thing or two, they start dating, but only casually. After several years and multiple musical acts, Aaron’s star as a producer is rising, and he’s working with bigger and bigger names.

Jenny is still healing from all her garbage (Agnes, Damien, etc.), and the music helps, and the project with Dan and Vanessa does too—it’s an excuse to reconnect with each other, and she becomes close to two of her favorite people again. It helps. As does the therapy, and all the other things she does.

One such thing, recommended by her therapist and her parents, is to do creative things that are outside of her purview as a musician. She’s always sort of been into fashion, so she gets into sewing, into designing her own looks. And when that’s not active enough, she puts in time at the dance studio in Brooklyn where her mom used to teach, where she took classes once upon a time.

She isn’t interested in lessons, or classes with other people, but the owners still know her, and love Alison, so they’ll give her solo studio time when she asks for it, and one afternoon, one of their new staff walks into the wrong studio.

Jenny kind of bites his head off, but he kind of likes that. He says his name is Nate, he’s the new hire to take over the beginner classes. And — he’s hot, obviously, but Jenny is on permanent hiatus in that department. Not that that stops her from looking.

But after that first meeting, Nate is just always around, and Jenny doesn’t really want to deal with all the shit that having him around kicks up within her, but she likes hanging out with him, so she tells him – firmly – that she only wants to be friends, and he respects that. What a thing, to have a guy respect her boundaries.

She keeps putting it all in her music, Turn Out the Lights doesn’t make the same splash as Badlands, apparently people care less the more distance she puts between herself and Damien, but Jen decides she’s okay with that.

Reeling from another heartbreak that Dan can’t really talk about, he puts it into his music, in the EP with Jen and V and in his new album. His sophomore solo album, Punisher, comes out to a great reception. Well, great within the small circle of people who actually know who he is.

The gigs that began with his debut keep rolling in, late night shows, radio appearances, festivals, and now mixed in with those are engagements for his act with Jen and Vanessa. To his surprise, people are interested in that music because of him. He doesn’t know how to feel about that. If you ask him, Jenny and Vanessa are way better at what they do than he is.

Dan’s public profile grows bigger and bigger, but Blair can’t be happy for him, because it makes him increasingly unavoidable. She refuses to listen to the new music he releases, she’s afraid it’s too cruel towards her, or worse, it’s too kind.

But, just like their accidental first meeting, she stumbles across a single he put out after the new album. Typical Humphrey. A goddamn overachiever, kept on writing even after the album was done. She didn’t mean to see it, but she was scrolling through All Songs Considered, and there he was, talking about Audrey Hepburn, of all things.

There’s this line in the movie Sabrina, where she says “I have learned to be in the world and of the world, and not just stand aside and watch.” And that’s really what this song’s about, about falling in love with a person because they’ve taught you how to live, how to appreciate everything the world has to offer. And there’s – there’s a tremendous amount of joy in that, but there’s also fear, because gaining that now means that it’s possible to lose it too. So – I guess this is sort of trying to reconcile those ideas within a song.

Blair listens to “Sidelines,” and it makes her so angry that she scribbles off a song idea of her own, because he still doesn’t get it. He meant her while she was in the middle of running away, so why won’t he just let her run?

She worries fleetingly about getting caught, because Audrey is her thing, and Dan knows that, but Audrey is a ubiquitous enough icon that no one but she would ever make the connection. He’s good at that, Dan is, of coding a message to her that only she could understand. It’s the same skill that makes him such a good writer.

Blair writes songs because she can’t help it, but she won’t record them. A new album would mean adding to Chuck’s empire, and the thought of Chuck owning these songs too, the only things of Dan she’s allowed herself to keep…she can’t stomach the thought of it.

She’s stayed with him to protect her work, but now her work is dead on arrival because of him, and that’s really what drives her decision to divorce Chuck.

She has to do it carefully, of course. She sets up a place of her own to go to in New York, moves in all the things that mean the most to her. Puts her notebooks in a safety deposit box—just to be sure. And, finally, she reaches out to her mother, to get a recommendation for a divorce attorney familiar with entertainment law.

On a first impression, Cyrus Rose doesn’t look like much beyond a short, ebullient, overly cheery middle-aged man, but Blair quickly learns that when he’s practicing law, he turns into a bulldog. He fights for her and for her work so fiercely that for a little while, Blair lets herself believe that it will all come out her way.

But there’s all the media coverage, and it paints her out as a bitter, gold-digging, ungrateful woman, villainizing a man who doesn’t deserve it. It pisses her off to no end, but Cyrus tells her to hold her silence, and she trusts him, so she does.

In the end, Cyrus is able to get her out of her marriage and most of her contract with Bass Records. She’s not destitute, she still has her family money, and a comfortable settlement, but Cyrus is ultimately unable to save her music. Bass will still own her masters, and the residuals from those masters. It’s that that breaks her heart the most—more than how quickly Chuck turned the media cycle against her, more than how many people followed his lead, more than the evidence Cyrus discovered of his multiple affairs, of his mismanagement of the company—but that her work cannot belong to her, that hurts the most.

But, bulldog that he is, Cyrus digs out a loophole. Since going solo, Blair has been the prime writer of all her songs, which gives her the legal right to rerecord her masters. So while she can’t stop Chuck from doing whatever he wants with her old work, anything she makes now can be entirely within her control.

She just has to find someone willing to work with her. And who she trusts enough to work with.

Worn out, Blair retreats from the public eye, it’s lonely, but thankfully, not too lonely.

The divorce process set Blair to looking back at lots of her life, at things and people she wishes she had handled differently. After she privately filed her petition, she reached out to Serena, and, miraculously, Serena answered.

Before anything else is fixed, Blair and Serena’s friendship is fixed. They reconnect, because everything they’ve been through, together and apart, has made them want to focus on what matters, and what matters is each other.

They talk all the shit through, Blair’s marriage, Serena’s struggles, their respective creative blocks. They start appearing in public together, and the tabloids gobble that shit UP.

Serena is working on a comeback record of her own, her first since burning out with her grandfather’s label. It’s zany, and bright, but doesn’t shy away from the heartache she’s been through. It’s so incredibly her, that Blair can’t help but love it. She loves it, no matter that the liner notes give credit to a Dan Humphrey on a few tracks

Free from Bass Records, Blair wants to work on a new album, but she’s unsure of where to begin. Serena offers to introduce her to this producer she’s been dating (out of the public eye for a change), Aaron Rose.

Blair doesn’t quite know what to make of Aaron, of his music, of his open relationship with her newly restored best friend, but she looks up his previous acts and thinks…maybe working with him could be the change her sound needs.

Dan is moving in—if not the same—adjacent circles to her. Enough so that she can’t get him out of her head, can’t get over wanting him. She spills the whole thing to Serena, who she knew was also Dan’s ex, but didn’t know that they were still friends. Serena tells her to stay optimistic, Blair says Serena just thinks that because she’s okay sharing a boyfriend.

Her engagements have been sparse, she’s not wanted many, and not many have wanted her, but Austin City Limits is still on her calendar. In the promotional materials, they highlight her on one stage, and Dan’s band with Jenny and Vanessa on another.

She doesn’t intend to seek him out, but fate conspires against her, and they end up thrown into the same green room. Again.

Dan doesn’t want to want her anymore. His career has forward movement and even if the music he makes is about her, the people who like it don’t know that, nor do they care. They care that it’s good. His career is good, he’s been dating Netflix Original darling Carter Baizen for months now, happily and uncomplicatedly. (Serena put them in touch, then one dm led to another, and it’s nice). Not that Carter doesn’t have his own damage—no one in LA is without damage, but they can forget about their damage with each other. It’s not love, but it’s not not love.

Dan doesn’t want to want her anymore, But, oh, he does.

They nearly miss their calls—his set, her soundcheck—while talking (well, talking, fighting, kissing, then talking some more). But they fulfill their contracts, and just like it started three years ago, they end up backstage after their shows, drinking, and talking, and talking until a harrowed stage manager is begging them to leave.

Dan sets a limit, makes himself go back to Jen and Vanessa, instead of going home with her, but he says he’s going straight to New York after this, and asks if she’ll be around.

Blair says yes.

After the divorce, Blair sold off the real estate she’d kept from her marriage. It was all too haunted, too high up, too far from reality. While looking for a new place, Epperly showed her a listing for a remodeled carriage house in the West Village; Blair would have bought it sight unseen if anyone but Epperly had been there.

Back in New York, Dan invites her to a secret acoustic show he’s playing near NYU. She goes, of course, and this time, when she asks him to come home with her, he says yes.

It takes time. For them to trust each other, and reconnect. But they do, and Blair feels like her life is finally making sense.

She and Dan take one day, one step at a time, in secret, for both their sakes, and meanwhile, she, Epperly, Cyrus, and Aaron negotiate a new contract with Rose Records.

Her best-friendship, record deal, and love life all fall into place, and then Blair is writing like never before.

Aaron is….unconventional, and doesn’t let her push him around, which she finds infuriating, not for least of which is the direction he wants to take this album. She fights it at first, but if she really does want to make a departure from the pop princess songs she was generating, maybe following down his path is not the worst idea. And if she hates it, then she can just walk.

It’s still pop, but it’s bigger, less bubbly and more….glittering. It’s….darker isn’t exactly the right word, but like she’s not trying to be the Good Girl anymore. It’s just crafting a record that’s hers, one song at a time.

She offers Dan the option to co-write, more than once, but he turns her down. Not because he doesn’t care, but because this is the first time the music she’s making entirely belongs to her, and he doesn’t want to get in the way of that.

“Church and state,” he says one late night in her cozy house on Cornelia Street.

“And which one’s this?”

“Church,” he answers immediately before kissing her. “Obviously.”

Speaking of church and state, and despite their expectations, they’re able to keep them out of the public eye. Blair’s friends know, and Dan’s family knows, but no one else does. By some miracle, they keep out of the tabloids. Blair keeps working on her album, Dan keeps working with his sister and best friend. They go out into the world and make music and go home to each other at the end of the night.

Blair and Aaron Rose make a surprisingly good time. They finish the album fast, and nine months after Blair’s divorce from Chuck and Bass Records, reputation drops.

She has a whole slew of promotions to do for the release, but that midnight, she and Dan open a bottle of wine and listen to the whole thing start to finish. (“Church and State, honey, I’ll listen when it’s done,” he’d said). He’s a fan.

She and Aaron were both intent on it not being a “divorce record,” but it is about her, exploring who she is as a person and an artist after her carefully constructed life fell apart, and about the love and truth she found in the wreckage. It's not a divorce record; she never point blank references Chuck, or their marriage, but the argument could be made that there’s a rebuke against him in every track. Even in the love songs she wrote about Dan, her writing of him is an antithesis of who Chuck was as a partner. The most pointed tracks are even able to claim plausible deniability. There are some people on the internet, though, who criticize the single “Look What You Made Me Do,” as a phrase habitually used by abusers, to which Blair says (in private, of course): “Yeah, that was the whole fucking point.”

The album doesn’t out perform her Bass releases immediately, but no one denies that the Queen B is back, she charms on late night shows, radio spots, and a months-long tour kicks off with high sales. There’s another legal fight about her having to pay for the right to perform her own songs on the tour, and as infuriating as that is, Blair is restored at having herself as an artist back.

Of course, to the public, the addressee in many of the songs is a mystery. Who is “Gorgeous” about? Or “Dress”? Or “Call It What You Want”? Many a pop culture think-piece is written on the topic, but no one guesses right. The most popular theory though, since they appear in public so often nowadays, is that Blair is dating Serena. It turns out to be a pretty good cover for keeping their real relationships private, so they play it up.

(sidebar: in the effort to hold of the Divorce Record allegations, Aaron had her tweak the bridge in Gorgeous, the original lines she demo’ed for him were: you make me so happy it turns back to sad / there’s nothing I hate more than what I can’t have / guess I’ll just stumble on back to my man / unless you want to take me home)

(It’s actually a testament to the loyalty and restraint of the people around them, because Blair and Dan are shit at being subtle while they’re together. )

Speaking of the people around them, it’s a bit hilarious how their lives all intertwine and overlap. There’s Dan’s sister, who’s hated Blair’s ex-husband for years, and who’s now decidedly not dating Blair’s ex-boyfriend. (“Just friends,” she and Nate insist to anyone who even comes close to asking, but Blair thinks they doth protest too much). And there’s Blair's best friend who was her former nemesis and Dan’s ex but is now dating Blair’s colleague and producer. Speaking of her colleague and producer, Aaron—who just so happens to be her lawyer’s son—he’s also in a poly-relationship with Dan’s best friend and bandmate, Vanessa Abrams. Vanessa who, on more than one occasion, Blair has caught giving Serena the eye, and vice versa.

They are all kind of a mess, but Blair finds she loves it that way. Her supposedly pristine life had been fake anyway. She much prefers this.

She and Dan keep their relationship a secret through her stadium tour and into awards season, when they decide to finally come out of the shadows.

“I’ve never really come out before,” Dan jokes, “everybody just already kinda knew.”

They pick the American Music Awards as the event. Blair gives him one last out in the limo ride over, but he doesn’t want to take it. He’s not ignorant of the public attention and pressure she lives with, but he loves her more than he’s afraid of that.

He gets out of the car first on his side, then comes around to open her door and help her out onto the red carpet. She kisses him as soon as she’s on her feet, limo door still open, cameras flashing in front of them.

The internet loses its collective mind. Intrigue suddenly sprouts up around this unassuming sad boi indie artist. Streams of Punisher and Strangers in the Alps hit all time highs. Dan’s been represented by his dad this whole time, but now Rufus jokes, “I think I can’t afford you.”

To ask him if his life has changed is stupid, of course it has, but his focus doesn’t. Dan’s attention is always only on the music. On the music, and on Blair.

Every year, Vanessa orchestrates a benefit show at one of their old favorite clubs in Brooklyn. It’s usually just Vanessa, Jenny, and Dan, but once she’s earned the trust of Dan’s sisters, Blair appears too. People go feral for a bootleg when they hear through the grapevine that she covered “A Case of You,” with Dan on the dulcimer.

For two people who love playing music, and love playing music together, they don’t do it in public very often. It becomes something that they save for just each other, and only occasionally will they perform together in public. Dan plays on Blair’s NPR TIny Desk once, and once for WFUV, they do a cover of “Dust to Dust.” it’s OBSCENE. sex in the studio amirite

The dark corners of the internet (fangirls) start looking a little too closely at their lyrics, and it’s only a matter of time before a fan tweet theorizes that Blair Waldorf had an affair with sad boi indie guy while she was married.

Chuck jumps on the rumor, plays it up in an attempt to smack Blair down after the success of her latest record. He calls her a cheater, a gold-digger, all the accusations he floated during the divorce and more.

In response, Blair releases a single. She wrote it while she and Dan were first together all those years ago, and kept it for her. At the time, she never planned on letting it see the light of day, she wasn’t even sure she would share it with Dan. But where she is now, she feels happy and safe in sharing this piece of her soul.

When she drops “ivy,” it's a confirmation of the rumors, but unapologetic. Comedians applaud her gall on late night shows. She was accused of having an affair, and she said, yeah I fucked him, and I wrote this ballad about it.

It isn’t pristine, or the most graceful thing to admit, but Blair is happy, and she won’t pretend to be sorry for being happy. She releases another album (Loneliest Time), then another (Lover), as does Dan (the more rockabilly Sleepwalkers). And three years after her divorce, they marry in a private ceremony with only their nearest and dearest in attendance. They keep the marriage quiet for six months after the fact. And, in the meantime, Blair sits down with Aaron to strategize re-recording her masters.

She starts with a single from her last record under the Bass umbrella. She’d written “This Love” about her and Chuck’s on-again, off-again relationship before he finally gave in and married her. On touring, she’d grown increasingly tired of it, she’d hated it for a while there. But her life and heart have come full circle, and now she can sing it with a new perspective.

When “This Love (B’s Version)” drops, she posts a set of photos on instagram:

The cover of the new single, which is a close up of her face, eyes closed, lips red, another set of lips kissing her cheek

The original photo used for the cover, zoomed out to see Dan kissing Blair’s cheek.

Another photo of Blair and Dan in their home at the West Village, forehead to forehead, facing each other.

A candid shot of Blair in the studio, wiping her eyes after tearing up while recording vocals.

Another candid of Blair and Aaron hugging once they wrapped.

Blair writes the caption of the post herself, which reads:

It’s funny how the meanings of songs can change as you change. When I first recorded “This Love,” I hadn’t even met the love of my life yet. I thought my big, magical, cyclical love story was done. Then, when I learned it wasn’t that magical at all, I couldn’t bring myself to sing the song anymore, its meaning had become tainted, hurtful. But then, after enough time, and with the right person, something amazing happened. I found a new meaning in it, deeper, happier, and it was like my life had finally caught up to what I had written all those years ago. These hands had to let it go free, but “This Love” has finally come back to me, and now I share it with you. xoxo, B

And CURTAIN

PS: this is how they announce Blair’s pregnancy when it happens

88 notes · View notes

velvet4510 · 2 months

Text

The Gaffer is an interesting character to me. His few scenes definitely show us that he is a gruff kind of guy who never shies away from making his opinion known among the gossips. Though he’s illiterate, he’s not stupid at all, and is actually very intelligent when it comes to all things gardening. But he also has very polite manners toward the gentry and is more than humble enough to “know his place” and be content with the simple working class life. He doesn’t share Sam’s passion for Elves and for learning in general. He’s perfectly fine with his lot in life and has no aspirations. It’s clear that Sam’s modesty, resourcefulness, and grounded sense are all inherited from the Gaffer.

Yet I’ve seen the Gaffer get a bit of hate amongst the fandom. Some dislike how he apparently calls Sam names like “ninnyhammer,” and some fanfics have taken this and ran with it to the point of depicting the Gaffer as a straight-up abusive father. Which…absolutely does not gel with Tolkien’s portrait of him at all.

It seems to me that the Gaffer is actually similar to Gandalf in his demeanor. When frustrated or exasperated, he calls people names, but in an affectionate way. And Sam obviously adores his dad, constantly worrying about his wellbeing back home. It’s clear they have a close and good relationship. Sam just does not seem or feel like an abused child. Maybe overly humbled, yes - the Quest does give him a much-needed boost in self-esteem - but not abused. Sam doesn’t have an abusive or unkind bone in his body; I really don’t think he would be as benign as he is, if he grew up with as cruel a role model as many seem to assume the Gaffer is.

Especially since Sam’s mom is clearly no longer around, and his older siblings seem to have all moved out, since Sam and his dad are the only ones who live in 3 Bagshot Row. So they seem similar to Bilbo and Frodo in that it’s been the 2 of them for a while, they have their own little lifestyle system that works for them, and they look after each other.

Notice in particular how the Gaffer often calls his son “my Sam,” which to me indicates he has great affection and pride for Sam. He even seems like he has that parental mindset of remembering and always seeing his son as his little boy, even when his son is all grown up.

The Gaffer also gives off the vibe of somebody who is actually much more open-minded than he claims to be. Yes, he’s a traditionalist and doesn’t like the idea of leaving home for anything. But notice how he fervently defends Bilbo and Frodo in front of the gossips. He’s not among those who disapprove of the Bagginses or call them “mad.” He’s very fond of them and will not speak ill of them. He appreciates how kind they are to him, and doesn’t see any harm in their unusual interests. And while he does drill an absolute sense of humbleness into Sam by saying things like “don’t get mixed up with your betters,” he actually doesn’t seem to mind that Bilbo taught Sam to read and write, even though Sam wasn’t “supposed” to be literate given his place in society. I feel like while he is set in his ways, he is also able to notice and acknowledge when something unusual has its benefits.

And let’s never forget that the Gaffer is also brave! He literally lies to a Nazgûl’s face to protect Frodo, claiming Frodo had already left when he hadn’t. Even if he didn’t know Frodo hadn’t left yet, it’s still clear he has no intention of selling Frodo out to this creepy guy. When push comes to shove, the Gaffer has some admirable courage inside him…another quality of his that Sam inherited.

I also feel great sympathy for him when I consider what that year must’ve been like for him. Imagine your son disappearing without a trace for 14 straight months, right after some creepy cloaked guy comes asking for your son’s boss. How terrified must that poor guy have been! It’s not much of a stretch to assume he was worried about Sam every single day, wondering if he was safe, if he’d ever see him again. How much sleep must he have lost because of his fears.

And of course, Sam names his fourth son after him. Another indicator that they had a genuinely good and loving relationship.

I really like the Gaffer and will always defend him. Let’s give him some credit. He’s a good guy. We primarily have him to thank, anyway, for raising Sam to be the amazing person he is.

#lotr #jrr tolkien #lotr books #lord of the rings #gaffer #gaffer gamgee #hamfast gamgee #samwise gamgee #hobbits #the shire #lotr analysis #nazgul #ringwraiths #black rider

19 notes · View notes

cocrante · 4 months

Text

I Start Over With You

[SOLANGELO FANFIC]

summary: After the great battle against the forces of Gaea, Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter had formed a long-lasting alliance. Everything had gone well, and everyone was ready to start anew. This included Nico, who, after confessing his feelings to Percy, was prepared to open a new chapter in his life—perhaps the happiest one the Fates had ever written.

note: the chapters will be updated every Wednesday. If you want to read upcoming chapters of the fanfiction in advance, I invite you to follow me on Patreon. Subscribing is not necessary, these chapters will be added for free on the platform on Mondays and Fridays. Following me there is just a kind and free gesture to support my work c:

nda. On this chapter I had some doubts. The fanfiction you are reading is almost ten years old, and there are many inaccuracies that may have been explained in later books. The thing about demigods changing tables seemed like something I had read, but now that many years have passed, I'm not sure anymore. For plot reasons, let's pretend they can do it.

Reblogs are highly appreciated c:

[CHAPTER 4]

SINCE THE WAR HAD ENDEND and the two camps had started to mix to learn new training techniques, the cafeteria had slowly begun to change like that of New Rome, although some who preferred the status quo wrinkled their noses at seeing demigods from other cabins sitting at different tables.

The first time was the evening when Jason declared that he wanted to stay at the camp, feeling finally in a place he could call home. That evening he abruptly got up from his lonely table and sat down at Aphrodite's one, causing surprise and dissent from some, but certainly the table of the goddess of love did not disagree with hosting the handsome blonde. That evening, there was a lot of movement in the mess hall, with demigods moving from table to table, making dinner more chaotic and lively. After making his offering in the fire, with no particular request or prayer, Nico returned to his table, preferring solitude and tranquility, but unfortunately not everyone respected his lifestyle. Jason was keeping him company, as he had promised to do more often during meals. "Did Aphrodite kick you out, Grace?" Nico asked with a hint of irony, taking a sip from his goblet. Jason tried to suppress a laugh. "If you want, I can leave you alone" he replied, picking up a warm loaf of bread. The boy in front of him raised an eyebrow, as if he would get up in response to an affirmative answer. "Do as you please" he grumbled.

"So—" spoke the son of Jupiter after a while, catching Nico's attention. "We'll see again tomorrow morning for training at the arena?" Jason asked, spearing some asparagus with his fork. Nico remained silent for a moment, staring at his friend's face. He had forgotten that he had promised to train with Jason the next morning. "Ah" he exclaimed embarrassedly. "No. No, I—I have something else to do" he muttered, looking down at his plate. At that response, Jason completely lost interest in dinner. He was now much more curious about what Nico had to do that was better than training with him. "And what would that be?" he asked, crossing his arms on the table. Nico frowned, as if he was really obligated to answer him. "It's none of your business" he replied abruptly, taking another sip from his goblet and pointing his eyes towards the table of the seventh house, always lively and sunny as only the children of the sun god could be. "You know that I'll find out anyway" Jason smiled wryly. After all, sooner or later, everyone in the camp would find out about each other's business, and with that kind of provocation, Nico grumbled. He valued his privacy, but agreed that the boy would find out from external sources and subsequently pester him with stupid questions. "Fine" he sighed, placing his goblet on the table. "I'm going for a boat ride" he shrugged, trying to seem as annoyed as possible. "Oh really?" Jason placed his hand on his face, surprised by that response. Everyone knew that for some demigods, certain elements were off-limits. "Yes, Jason" Nico snapped, rolling his eyes. "And with whom are you going?" the handsome blond boy whispered, getting closer. At that proximity, Nico moved back a bit with his back, feeling his ears grow warmer. "Will asked me" he curled his lips, as if to say what can I do?

"Ah" Jason exclaimed in surprise, turning briefly to Apollo's table, where his children were having fun and entertaining with poetry and pop songs. "I didn't think you liked blonds" at that phrase, Nico almost choked on a piece of meat, causing some demigods to turn their heads out of curiosity and one in particular from the seventh table to go and see what was happening in person. When everything seemed to have returned to normal, the boy who had almost fully stood up returned to his seat, laughing at a joke from one of his brothers, avoiding looking at the table of Ade's son. "What the hell, Grace!" Nico scolded him, spitting out what was left in his throat onto a tissue. "We're just friends, I think" he explained, moving the plate out of sight. He had lost his appetite. Jason nodded, wanting to believe him. "Well, then, we'll see you after your date?" he finger-quoted, causing a certain nervousness in the boy in front of him. "As you wish" he replied, hoping that promise would shut him up. "Great".

At the end of the dinner, some groups left the cafeteria, leaving the tables full of dirt to be cleaned by the camp's harpies. Many of the boys headed to the bonfire, where it was a tradition to roast marshmallows and sing campfire songs. "Aren't you coming?" Jason asked Nico, seeing him heading up the camp to go to his cabin. "No, I'm good" he replied, distancing himself from the overly noisy crowd. "Oh—" Jason whispered. Once again, he had hoped that Nico would join them to sing the song of the Minotaur. "Good night!" the boy raised his voice to be heard by Nico, who raised his hand in return without turning around. But Nico, distracted by his thoughts for the next day, had not noticed that a figure was getting closer and closer behind him. "Planning to bolt?" the voice whispered, making the boy startle and jump. Caught off guard, he searched at his side for his sword to unsheathe it, only then remembering that he had left it in his cabin. He turned around and let out an imperceptible sigh. "Hasn't anyone taught you not to sneak up on people, especially at night!" he scolded. "I could have skewered you" he lifted his eyes to the sky. "Oh yeah?" Will asked amusedly. "And with what?" he smiled, indicating the left side devoid of his sword. "You're lucky I left it in the cabin" Nico pressed his lips together to avoid saying something inappropriate. Years of wandering outside had taught him to sharpen his senses, it was just a coincidence that the sword had been left in the cabin. However, Will shrugged "You still haven't answered my question, though" continued the boy. "What question?" Nico sighed, curiously raising an eyebrow. "Are you making a run for it?" Will repeated, hoping to convince him to stay at the camp and sing by the fire. "Yes" he replied directly, resuming his path towards cabin number 13. "Come on! Everyone's there" Will followed him. "Correct" that was precisely the reason he didn't want to go there. "You don't have to sing" Will smiled, his teeth shining even in the dark. "I'll take care of that" Nico stopped, muttering some not very flattering words in his mother tongue. "What did you say?" the boy was curious. "I said I'm coming" he lied, but Will didn't know Italian. "But only for five minutes" and saying that, the two of them headed towards the bonfire.

Without too much fuss, the two sat down in the middle of the group. Nico greeted Jason with a nod, who smiled seeing that his friend had changed his mind, then seeing him close to Will, it all became clear. Nico, slightly embarrassed, sat down near the cabin led by Will, as the boy had insisted so much for him to sit beside him. Will passed some marshmallows for Nico to roast so he wouldn't get bored while the others sang. Nico thanked him, already toasting the candy, listening enchanted to the intoned voices of the Apollo cabin mixed with the off-key ones of the others. He was listening in particular to one voice, the only one he really liked: Will had a really beautiful tone, melodic, warm. Nico would never admit it, but he would have stayed listening to him sing for hours and even though the boy repeated that he was only good at treating wounds, Nico found that he was also good at many other things worthy of a son of Apollo. At the second song, Will decided to take a break and talk to Nico, who had ignored him all that time. "Are you having fun?" asked the boy. Nico looked at him, ready to give him an another negative answer, but seeing Will's sunny face, with that beautiful smile, he couldn't tell him that he was bored to death. "Yes" he simply replied, breaking the roasted candy off the stick. "Thanks for accepting my invitation" the boy whispered in his ear, with all that noise it was difficult to hear anything. "It will be the last time you convince me to do it" Nico replied in the boy's ear.

On the other side of the bonfire, Jason never took his eyes off the two. It was the first time he had seen Nico smile and laugh at a joke. "What are you staring at?" Piper asked at one point, noticing that her boyfriend had been silent the whole time staring ahead. "What do you think?" he whispered to the girl, leaning close to her ear. Piper remained perplexed for a moment, not understanding the question, then looked to where Jason was looking, stunned. "Since when can he smile?" she asked ironically, laughing to herself. "Is that Will he's talking to?" the girl asked, who had not yet found a way to learn the names of the members of the cabins. "Exactly him" Jason replied, bending his lips in a crooked smile. "They look really good together" the girl whispered, and Jason couldn't agree more.

[CONTENTS]

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20

#🖇️ : fanfiction #i start over with you ☀️☠️#solangelo #will solace #nico di angelo #camp halfblood #camp jupiter #fluff fic #percy jackson #pjo #pjo fanfic #riordanverse #writer on patreon

14 notes · View notes

merscylilith · 2 years

Text

Tenjiku's Characters Book

(Most of thesw i found in Twitter, so, i will give a credit and include their username on the picture)

Hint or what ? I never thought Sanzu would get along with other people (?) Hanma looks delicious btw.

Cutie Ran ,AAAAAAAAAAA. His braids !!! They are so cuteeeee. I was expecting Ran in ponytail while running, but jeez, he looks fabulous.

They are so wild ? As expected from Roppongi's Ruler. They are living in Roppongi, known for a party life city AND RICH RICH. Were their party really happened just like what have been pictured by fans in fanfic ? You know... but i dont think so, they probably want to invite random people from their gang and have some fun, from the infos of Rindou, the one that drink a lot and love being a Dj and want to be a club famous owner is Rindou, so, i think the party people is Rindou but got scolded by Ran because disturbed his peaceful life.

Haitanis might just have some fun with their gang, i cant imagine them with anyone other than their prescious gang. I got the vibes from them, that they only hanging out with someone that worth it. They are kinda have elite vibe.

Now, i see. It is Ran's idea for them looks urban and stylish. He love attention. We both like Yves Saint Laurent. He preferred living with modern lifestyle.

Rinnn, why you have to be so cute. So, he afraid of Ran because Ran kind of a moody person, that's so funny. He likes DJ and alcohol so, that would be understable for him want to have a club, a famous club. Roppongi is his favourite, he must be proud to be born in Roppongi. He drank an alcohol while Ran in dreamland, he is so naughty little boy, no wonder Ran got worried so much about him, that's make why he admired Kaku because Kaku is obedient little brother., that's cute.

Ran is passive person while Rindou is active person, Ran like being all by himself, and Rindou still in his youngest sibling moments.

Basically, me and Sanzu share a lot same thing. My blood type is AB, i like magenta pink , i like cheesecake too, i hate spicy too because it make me uncomfortable and fencing is for life. I decided to come in conclusion about Sanzu's behaviour. I did some analyze about him, he sweet, blunt and a bit naive (?) He mostly did everything that suit with his feelings and need. Just like my theory before, the Tokyo Revengers characters appreciate childhood friend more than bestfriend, which is happened between Sanzu and Baji. Sanzu is weird and clueless (?) He violent but naive. Not to mention his blood type is AB, which is considered as 4-Dimensional person in Japan ( or other country in Asia). I really wanted to know how Mikey furious about the hair. Sanzu didnt understand the weird thing he did.

What makes me really sad that Sanzu taking care of himself since he was kid, he learned everything all by himself by watching his surrounding. When he asked about hair treatment, it seems like he curious person that love to do thing that make him attracted, he got no one that cared or loving him as a good family member, Mikey got Shin and Emma, meanwhile, Baji has his mom to take care of him. He hate traitor but not Baji ? Because Baji is not a traitor. He leave Toman not betray, different from just like how Mucho did. Sanzu really value someone that understand and see the worth in him.

The way he said "im going to miss you" to Baji *sob*sob*, he must really miss Baji. (Ps : he really did use soap to wash his hair and became mess, he's so prescious, he trusted people easily when he got comfortable, just like how he with Mucho) i can see that he really adored Mucho as his 5th division Caption but he chose what he loved the most.

Haru, honey, tell me you were joking to give Mikey a wrapped hair.

This kid fought people 24/7 BUT at least, he beat some deliquents. Kakucho is the one that invited all the Tenjiku member, Izana might the one who command it, and use the exvuse , " yoi are my servenat so, be useful" , thrn, i can see the bickering between them. Please, it's so funny how Izana knew Haitanis want the attention from the crowd, and he never liked it, because they are typical of competitive in the one who looks "different" in the crowd. That's the reaaon why most of Tenjiku comes with different style. I think Wakui doesnt want to give us Kakucho's birthday because he want to keep the flows that Kaku threw every information about himself.

Izana whipped out his ass is the most funniest, oh my, i rrally love them being together.

Well, everything is a fun for Hanma. Why Izana and Kaku always at the top worst when it comes to "money", i means, Izana literally the leader and can be rich at the same time, not to mention his executives bring a lot benefit towards him, but on the other side, it shows that Izana didnt care about money at all.

Help? They cant live without teasing Kaku at least for once. If i were there, i will definitly did the same to Kaku, he really easy to tease.

Haru's birthday 3rd July 1990, Cancer ??? I like most of my cancer friend, they are so great to be with.

#tokyo revengers #kantou manji gang #tokrev #bonten #sanzu haruchiyo #tokyo revengers spoilers #kakucho #ran haitani #rindou haitani #hanma shuuji #kisaki tetta #izana kurokawa #mucho #tenjiku

318 notes · View notes

literaryspinster · 26 days

Note

I’m on ch 3 of your limoreau fic and I’m struggling a bit with the decision to make Powerlad racist, why does every story about Black people have to involve racism as a plot device?

I don’t believe it does. I just made that specific choice because one of the big themes of that story (and The Boys itself) is toxic celebrity culture, and I wanted to convey that theme in a way that felt somewhat high stakes without getting into big conspiracy territory or putting Marie through what Starlight went through (or any other sort of physical violence).

A privileged celebrity having their problematic nature exposed, only for their fans and those in power to go out of their way to protect them, often at the expense of the less protected people in their orbit, is something I’ve witnessed online multiple times, and as a Black woman it’s exhausting to see. I can only imagine what that’s like for those more directly affected. That’s kind of what I wanted to explore with that plotline.

I also don’t think racism is a thing that just exists in media to make Black people feel like they can never escape it. It’s an actual part of our lives. I’ve been disrespected and hurt on account of my race, and while the fact that that’s happened doesn’t define me, or even figure into my day to day life as much as it once did, it is something I’ve felt the need to grapple with in various ways, including through writing. I also address queerphobia and sexism but racism is what I feel the most equipped to unpack because it’s what I’ve dealt with the most in my interactions with people (I’m a part of the queer community but quite straight-presenting, and am not a part of a profession or lifestyle that’s heavily associated with men or manliness, so sexism isn’t something I tend to feel on a visceral level).

Furthermore, I believe racism is one of the ‘isms that speculative fiction actually tends to be the shyest about. I’ve watched plenty of mainstream content where sexism is addressed repeatedly, meanwhile race is never commented on in any way in spite of the cast of characters being racially diverse (The Beauty and the Beast remake is the example that stands out the most to me). Or I’ve seen white women dealing with sexism and only Black men dealing with racism while the Black women in the story are just kind of there (i.e. Outlander, a show I could not finish in spite of all of the praise it received). Or some entirely fictional creature or concept is meant as the stand in for racism. I understand wanting to read about different things, but I do believe that there’s a middle ground between making our stories entirely about race and just pretending that it doesn’t exist.

All that being said. Fanfic is meant for escapism, I get that. I wasn’t trying to make anyone feel annoyed or let down or anything like that, I was just doing what I always do when I’m writing a fanfic that’s not a complete AU, playing in someone else’s sandbox with someone else’s toys. The Boys is all about satirizing topics like public bigotry (and yeah, it’s a Gen V fic but the point of it was to imagine them in The Seven so therefore on The Boys). I’m not always a fan of how they go about it, but I do appreciate its point of view a fair amount more than something like South Park, or even the show’s own source material. I doubt I would have stuck with it for three seasons if that wasn’t the case. So when writing for a show that frequently lampoons racists and other types of ridiculous people, the decisions made with Powerlad came pretty naturally. If I’d known I’d be disappointing people to this degree (you aren’t the first to comment on this) then I would have maybe gone in a different direction. To be honest the criticism has taken the wind out of my sails a bit.

In spite of everything, the rest of the story is planned out and partially written. Even though the fandom is understandably in a bad place right now, I hope the way everything plays out feels rewarding to people who choose to finish.

#limoreau #gen v #the boys #marie moreau #i didn’t mean to write a whole novel 😅#fanfic

8 notes · View notes

brideofdiscord-rewritten · 10 months

Text

THIS IS A SIDE BLOG STEMMING FROM @atbussysparks! That is also me!! I will be attempting to re-write bride of discord

Respect for the original property goes to DisneyFanatic2362, writer of bride of discord. This fanfiction was not meant to be "better" but to be a love letter to the original author.

If you or your friend is into MLPFiM, please tag them in my posts!! I want new fans to be able to experience a modern take on a classic fanfic (⁠^⁠^⁠)

Others may write chapters, and I will reblog that! I will write them, but if someone has a better written chapter I'll reblog that instead

THERE WILL BE NO NSFW. While many people have been touched by this series, far too many have touched themselves to it.

I will omit some ridiculous examples of discord being emotionally or mentally abusive past the point in which he has fully developed as a good character. Instead he will face consequences for his abuse.

This is not a safe space for pro/comships. No questions asked

Spike will still have a crush on rarity, but spike being a romantic interest for adult ponies, or having his feelings reciprocated in any way will be removed from the story.

Music and silly corny early 2010s Disney channel humor will stay, unfortunately. BUT! WE WILL MAKE MORE FUNNY JOKES I SWEAR

No cursing within the story, and if they curse it will be subtle. Horse related. Replaced with @$#&*!?¥£€.

Hell, damn, frick, frack, crap, darn, dang, shoot, balls, loser, shut up, fools, doofus, dingus, and ugly are allowed.

The word "ass" will only be used 3 times. Make it count.

Topics such as death should be handled with care and emotions. It is okay to say stuff related to dying.

Characters can be LGBTQ, but explicit sexual references to ponys' relationships, homosexual or heterosexual, are not tolerated. these horses could be sequential hermaphrodites OR self fertilize through an asexual manner called parthenogenesis, and give birth by teleporting the baby horse from their stomach to the ground via magic nurses. But that's not for us to know.

SOMETIMES dirty jokes are allowed. Like, really subtle ones. BUT NO HORSES DO THE NAUGHTY IN THE PLOT. NEVER MENTION IT.

Please write zecora doing actual Hoo Doo. And respect it, as it is cultural magic. Where used to live people did not respect hoodoo and voodoo as actual lifestyles, and viewed them as Halloween gimmicks. In the same place, many black people practiced voodoo.

I'm sorry I will reference fat Albert. I used to watch reruns of it. Fluttershy will explicitly say "HEY HEY HEY" like in the damn YouTube vid. I'm sorry I loved fat Albert.

Rarity will have a daughter from a previous relationship, and the fully will not have that weird diet culture obsession.

Also justice for rarity what the heck did she do to deserve such a horrible life 😭😭😭

If Applejack's speech is funny y'all don't get to say nothing because I'm southern and i am clearly supreme in this area of expertise. She's probably Georgian but that's not my accent so suck it.

Bigots of any kind are not tolerated. Read my main account, (atbussysparks) about section.

And remember! This project was born of love for the original, appreciation of everyone involved with the creation of the audio drama, and the opportunity to make fat Albert references.

33 notes · View notes

skzhocomments · 9 months

Text

Careless Mistakes - Lee Know Oneshot Fanfic

Pairing: Minho (Lee Know of Stray Kids) x Violet (OC - story written in 2nd person)

Genre: angst, romance, very explicit smut, angry sex, enemies to lovers

Word Count: ~7.6k

Warnings: extremely sexually graphic, anal, the traffic light system, swearing, slight bullying, angst, crying, character is poor and starving herself, mention of eating disorder, probably others.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Minho or any other SKZ members’ true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad: click here and AO3: click here

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

---

Summary:

Your whole life has been uprooted after your dad unexpectedly passed away two months ago, leaving behind your younger sister you decided to care and provide for no matter what. To be able to give her the same lifestyle she was used to, you had to take up another job. Minho had no way of knowing that. For him, you were just an annoying stylist that kept messing everything up, making careless mistakes. You got tired of his antics, hearing him swear at you over and over again, so you proposed the most logical illogical thing: fucking it out. After all, angry sex is the best way to cool off.

---

"I swear to God, I'm gonna fucking kill her!" Minho shouted annoyed as soon as he got backstage, trying to tug his shirt back into the damn belt.

"Come on, man, don't be like that." Jisung tried to comfort him, putting his hand on his shoulder. "Just get over it."

"No! I told everyone countless of times I'm uncomfortable with my abdomen showing, what can't she fucking get? I swear, it's either intentional, or she's bad as fuck at her job and should be fired."

"Don't be so harsh on her, I'm sure she's doing her best. She's just new. She's been with us for what, 8 months?"

"She's doing her best, my ass. First, she gave me that tight ass necklace I had to rip off mid-dance because it was literally strangling me. Then she gave me those annoying boots with the impossible zipper, and I had to focus for half the performance to not continue barefoot. Then, the freaking sunglasses! Doesn't she know what choreographies we have? Unless she literally glues them on, they are bound to fly off my head! But that's nothing. Today she fucking topped it! If this is her best, then she should get the fuck out of this place, she's clearly not meant for it." He ripped off the earpiece, angrily.

"I understand you're annoyed, and I get you, but-" Jisung started, before getting interrupted again.

"Is Violet still here?" He asked a staff member, who pointed him towards the girl. He didn't hesitate to march over.

"Yo." He said shortly, annoyance in his tone.

"Hello, Minho. Great performance!" You smiled, complimenting him. "You danced really well and looked amazing on stage, as always. You're a great performer. You too, Jisung." You smiled at the boy following Minho sheepishly as well.

The antipathy Minho has been harbouring towards you for the past few weeks was unknown to you, so you didn't have any reason to believe that what he was going to say would actually be meant to hurt you. You just smiled as he started spitting venom at you.

"Yea, not thanks to you. What the fuck is wrong with you? Can't you read one simple instruction?"

Of course, he had no way of knowing that you've been having a really harsh time lately, that you indeed couldn't focus on your job that well considering everything that happened, that your whole life has been uprooted after your dad unexpectedly passed away two months ago and that you've been running on 4 hours of sleep as you took care of your younger sister and got a second job to be able to offer her the same lifestyle she lived until now.

He couldn't have known.

"I'm sorry?" You replied, tilting your head, confusion written all over your face.

Minho chuckled mockingly. "You're sorry? Did you even get what you did wrong, or should I spell it out for you?"

"Uhm... please. If there is anything I did that upset you that much-" you hated how your voice quivered, but you hated him a little bit more for acting like this towards you. "The necklace this time wasn't tight... and I didn't give you any more boots with zippers, so..."

You watched over at Jisung who was moving his hands around pointing to his blouse frantically. "Was... was it the shirt?" You questioned, remembering that you read one time that one of the members absolutely hated having his abs exposed. You were sure it was Changbin, but you really couldn't remember. The past few weeks were extremely hazy.

"Bingo! Your head is not totally empty! Well done!" He exclaimed, clapping mockingly.

"Uhm... Okay, I will note that down again and-"

"How come I have to tell you what's wrong after every single performance? Are you that incapable of reading the previous stylist's notes, or noticing for yourself?"

"You're right. I'm sorry." You replied, feeling your eyes sting. Everything was getting to be too much. Plus, it's not like you messed up all the time. Sure, he could dislike an accessory every now and then, but you had to dress him basically everyday. He seemed to forget that 6 days out of 7, nothing was wrong with his outfit.

"Sorry this, sorry that. Instead of apologising you'd better do your job right, or even better, quit while you're at it."

Before you got the chance to say anything else, he turned around and left.

You tried your hardest to keep your composure. You couldn't cry yet, when the room was still buzzing with people.

"Don't mind him too much, he's just been stressed." Jisung started, but you just shook your head and smiled.

"That's okay. He's right. I will do better."

"He's kind of an asshole, isn't he?" Jisung whispered, making both of you chuckle. "Thanks for today. I really liked my outfit."

"Thank you, Jisung." You smiled.

"I'll get going, see you later?"

"Sure." You smiled, feeling a bit better. Jisung did have a way of turning any battleground into a children's park, apparently.

"Violet, girl! Wanna get lunch? We have almost 2 hours until the next shooting starts." One of your coworkers approached you cheerfully. "The other girls are also coming, so I was just thinking we could all eat together. There's a sushi place not far from here and it's delicious!"

Lunch.

Right.

When was the last time I ate? You wondered.

"Oh, sushi sounds great!" You chuckled in a friendly manner. "I have to get something sorted out first, though, so you can go first. I'll join you all if I manage to finish in time." You smiled at your coworker, who nodded.

"That's too bad! Well, we're keeping you a seat, so feel free to come whenever you're done!"

"Of course."

Being alone in the empty room, you started rummaging through similar black shirts you could give Minho to change in.

Sure, he was right, but he didn't need to be such a jerk about it. You thought, reminding yourself of the unpleasant encounter. It felt so horrible having him shout at you and looking at you with so much hate.

You were in the wrong, sure. You knew you made a few careless mistakes. But he could've treated you a bit better, like you were a human being, not a punching machine for his verbal abuse.

Finally on your own, you let yourself sit down on the sofa in the corner of the room and cry, letting the tears fall down freely on your cheeks as you kept your head rolled back on the small cushions.

Suddenly, the door opened with force, and you jumped up in surprise, noticing Changbin walk in. You wiped your face as much as you could in the few seconds it took him to spot you, and you smiled at him.

"Sorry, just left my phone here. Didn't you go to lunch yet?" He asked, looking at you. If he noticed you've been crying, he didn't mention it.

"Oh, I just have to finish this quickly, then I'll eat something." You lied once again. You didn't need food, what you needed right now was to cut costs wherever possible to be able to afford your little sister's ballet classes.

You wished she didn't have such expensive passions, but as the oldest, it was your responsibility to take care of her and her interests when there wasn't anyone else to do it. Poor kid had it rough enough already. When your dad remarried and had a daughter with his new wife, she died giving birth to her, so she never even knew a mother figure.

You felt bad, so despite there being a 15-year age-gap between you and her, you tried to be there as much as possible.

"Oh, I see. Found it!" He exclaimed, grabbing his phone from the table.

"Have a nice lunch!" You exclaimed and waved at him, starting to sort through Lee Know's shirts again. You were so dizzy, it was getting hard to focus, but still, you somehow managed to stay awake and find more comfortable items that would fit him in the big pile of clothes brought by their sponsors, and then you sat back down on the sofa and took a small nap.

"Done?" Felix laughed as Changbin returned to the table, victoriously showing off his recovered phone.

"Yes! I left it on the table. It's good that no one took it." He chuckled.

"Yea, no one would've noticed someone taking a phone that's not theirs, since that room is always full, right?" Hyunjin asked as he took a small bite of the sliced vegetables.

"Oh, it was quite empty this time, though." Changbin said with his mouth full. "Besides Violet."

"Yea? Why was she still there? I thought the team went to lunch at the sushi place. Didn't she go with them?" Chan asked, curious.

"I know it's not okay to comment on people's bodies or anything, but didn't you guys notice that she's lost a lot of weight and looks rather... frail?" Felix asked the group of boys, knowing full well how drained of energy he was when he used to starve himself.

"She almost passed out last week during shooting." Seungmin said matter-of-factly, making everyone look up at him. "What? Is there something on my face?" He wiped his cheeks.

"What do you mean she passed out?" Minho asked, watching Seungmin closely.

"I said almost. She was in the hallway when I went to the bathroom, and I just saw her lean on a wall, and her knees gave in for a bit, so she fell."

"And?!" Jisung asked, mouth open.

"She said she was just very tired and brushed me off, and since I had to come back to do that 8-man shoot, I didn't really stay and chat." Seungmin shrugged and munched on the rice bowl in front of him.

"I'm a bit worried for her..." Felix said, looking down.

"She did look a bit dejected... but I'm sure she'll be fine, right?" Changbin touched Felix' shoulder, as always admiring how empathetic he was towards others.

"Yea, I will... talk to her!" Felix decided, resolve in his voice.

"So, what did you think about..."

The boys continued talking for a while about the shooting, their new music video and the upcoming busy schedule.

"Anyways, I'm done eating, so I'm gonna head upstairs and rest for a bit until y'all come." Minho stood up after a while, and started leisurely making his way back to the dressing room, set on laying down on the sofa and closing his eyes for a few minutes.

When he put his hand on the handle, he heard your voice through the door, and despite knowing that he shouldn't, he stayed there and eavesdropped. You seemed to be talking on the phone, not too loud, but loud enough for him to hear.

"Oh my God, that's amazing! I'm so happy for you, Mimi!"

You seemed excited.

"That's so great to hear! We have to celebrate this! I'll change my schedule to be free on Saturday, so let's eat some cake, what do you say?"

What would be so worth celebrating? And what schedule? As far as Minho knew, there wasn't anything planned for this weekend.

"Of course chocolate, what else, Mimi? Oh, I know, let's buy some meat and we can have a barbecue as well! We didn't have one in a while, did we?"

Barbecue AND a cake? Sounds like fun.

"Two new dresses? For the show?" You asked.

Minho raised a brow. He wasn't supposed to listen to other people's conversation. Should he just enter the room?

"300$ per dress?!" You exclaimed in horror. "Wow!"

He pressed the handle and opened the door, but you didn't notice him getting in, because you were crouched on the floor, as if you were in pain.

"No, Mimi, of course we're going to buy them. I'll figure it out, so don't you worry about anything! Look, my break is almost over, so I have to go. I will get home earlier today, at about 12 AM, but don't wait for me, and go to sleep instead, yea?"

Minho approached you slowly. What were you even going to do until 12 AM? And how is that early?

"You're such a strong girl! Love you too!" You said and ended the call, sighing. Your stomach was hurting, which made it difficult to stand up, and you were so dizzy. How were you going to work the next 10 hours?

"Violet?" Minho asked you, making you stand up way too quickly in horror. The dizziness got to your head, and you felt yourself almost fainting, your knees giving in. Before you fell, Minho caught you and he looked at you almost worried.

You knew better than to think he actually gave two shits about you. Your earlier conversation told you as much, anyway.

"Sorry, I didn't notice you come in." You said and moved away from his grasp.

"How was lunch?" He asked you.

"Good. Since you're here earlier, I found these clothes that you could-"

"What did you eat?"

"Huh?" You asked perplexed. Why did he care?

"What did you have for lunch?"

"Why?"

"Just curious." He shrugged.

"Rice and some vegetables." You lied with a smile. "What about you?"

"Where?"

"What?"

"Where did you eat?" I didn't see you downstairs.

"Oh, I brought food from home." You replied, not missing a beat. It was getting so easy to blurt out this kind of lies.

"What are you celebrating this weekend?"

"Is this some sort of interrogatory?" You laughed. "Nothing that concerns you. Can you try those clothes now?"

"... Sure." Minho replied, grabbing the shirt and the new pants you gave him, heading towards the changing room.

Just then, your other coworkers entered the room.

"Violet! You didn't join us after all!"

"Sadly." You laughed. "I had to find some new clothes."

"Did you eat anything?"

"I did, I brought something from home. Thanks for always taking care of me." You smiled.

"By the way, your sister's recital should be one of these days, right?"

"Oh wow, you remembered!" You chuckled, noticing that Minho still hasn't left the room. You shooed him away, but he seemed to ignore you, and started participating in the conversation.

"What kind of recital?" He showed you a shit-eating grin, happy that he was going to hear what he wanted to hear, after all.

"Oh, her sister is a little ballet prodigy!" One of your coworkers complimented. "She's sooo talented! Best of luck to her!"

"Oh, it was actually today, and she just called me earlier telling me she got the main role!" You smiled, boasting. You were very proud of your little sister for accomplishing this, after your dad's accident. His death was harder on her than it was on you, but she was taking it like a champion.

"No way! She's gonna be Cinderella?! Congrats!" She hugged you.

"Wow, Cinderella!" Minho exclaimed as well. "That's so cute! I wanna see her too, when is her show?"

"I don't know, Minho, I just found out 15 minutes ago that she got the role. Will you go change?" You smiled fakely.

"But Violet, isn't it super expensive?" Your coworker frowned. "Keeping her in classes, and I bet her costumes are going to cost you a lot..."

"Oh, indeed."

"You got a second job, right?" Your coworker further inquired, and you started feeling uncomfortable.

"Yea, I did."

"Poor girl. First you lose your dad, then you have to work this hard at such a young age... Let us know if we can help with anything, hm?" Your coworkers smiled as if they were pitying you, and you hated this. You didn't notice Minho's gaze, nor did you care to look. You indulged in the pleasantries of your coworkers. It wasn't like they were actually going to help you in any way, so you didn't understand why they were pretending to want to be helpful.

Minho eventually left to change without saying anything else, and all the boys soon returned to the dressing room.

"Violet, can I have a word with you?" Felix approached you with a small smile, and both of you headed to the hallway.

"What's up?" You smiled back, noticing that he was fidgeting, looking perturbed.

"I don't want to... bother you with my questions, but..."

"Hey." You put your hand on his left shoulder. It's not like you were friends, but he must've had a reason to ask you to talk privately. "It's okay, you can ask me anything."

"I... uhm... used to do this really bad thing where I wouldn't eat for days trying to lose weight, and..."

"Oh." Now it made sense why Minho asked what you ate today. They talked about you.

"I'm sorry, I know it's not my place to say anything, but I just wanted to let you know that you are already beautiful as you are, and you don't need to lose any weight, but if you want to, you should do it in a healthy way... Changbin-hyung even offered to go to the gym together, if you want..."

"Lix." You smiled. "It's nothing like that."

"Don't lie to me." He looked at you sadly. "I know you haven't been eating. I've seen how tired you are, and I was the same way..."

You felt bad, because Felix clearly went through something and used to have an eating disorder, so this conversation was probably really difficult for him.

"No, you're right. I haven't been eating, but it has nothing to do with losing weight." You furrowed your brows, sadness taking over your expression.

"Then?"

"I just... uhm. This is awkward." You chuckled, not noticing Minho coming out of the changing room on the hallway. "Rent, and my sister's ballet classes are really expensive, and now she will need two dresses for her show, so... I'm cutting costs wherever I can. I'm doing fine with eating once every few days, so don't worry about it." You smiled sadly, noticing Felix's gaze drop.

"You don't have..." he started, just when Minho talked a few metres away from you.

"What are you guys doing?" He grinned. "Violet, these clothes feel way better, I wouldn't have had a screaming fit if you found these first!" Minho chuckled loudly. He didn't want to make it obvious that he's heard your talk with Felix.

"Oh, that's good to hear. Shall we head back, then?" You smiled, and opened the door to the dressing room.

~two days later~

No fucking way. Minho thought, fighting every urge to roll his eyes after his bracelet fell off and he had to toss it out of the way on the stage. How come all the other members you dressed didn't have any problems with their clothes or accessories?

Once again, he returned to the dressing room fuming, complaining loudly to Jisung about you.

"Yo, Violet!" He shouted, seeing you relax on the couch.

"Minho, great performance as always!" You smiled, in a fake manner this time.

"Shut up, can you take this off?" He gave you his left arm, and you looked confused at his wrist.

"Take what off? Where is the bracelet?" You furrowed your brows.

"On the fucking stage. After it fucking fell." He replied, annoyed.

"No way!" You exclaimed, waiting for another meltdown like last time.

Fuck, you didn't have energy for this.

Thankfully, Chan approached Minho to talk to him about something.

"He's taking it out too much on you." One of your coworkers commented, making you nod.

"Right?!" You pouted, making her laugh.

"Maybe he has a crush on you." Another coworker said, clearly joking.

"Yea, in what universe?" You joined her laughing. "He's just an angry asshole."

"But Violet, you know what they say, sometimes the best way to let off steam is to have angry sex."

"Oh my god!" You slapped her arm playfully. "Don't say shit like that! What if he hears?" You looked anxiously at Minho, who, despite not being too far, seemed caught up in a conversation with Chan.

Thank God he didn't hear this. It would've been embarrassing as hell.

"If he hears, he might take you up on the offer." She laughed, making you roll your eyes.

"Anyways," your other coworker stopped the madness. "Let's go eat. Are you coming, Violet?"

"Oh, no. I want to rest for a bit before the next job, so I'm gonna stay here and sleep."

"Want us to buy you something, then?"

"No, thank you, I have some food in my backpack, so don't worry!"

You saw Minho turn away to look at you briefly, before he exited the room.

Soon, all your coworkers left as well, so you were left in peace. You've been waiting for lunch break to start and for everyone to leave the room for about two hours now, so you can finally sleep for a bit on the couch.

It's been getting harder and harder to stay awake, since you had really low energy levels after not having eaten more than an apple for 4 days now.

"Violet." A voice woke you up, and you opened your eyes, confused by your surroundings.

Oh, this is the dressing room. You realised, pressing your hand on your forehead. Your whole head was hurting.

"You're finally awake. I've been trying to wake you for the past 10 minutes." Minho chuckled.

"Why are you here?" You asked, your voice groggy. "Is it already 2?"

"No, it's barely 12:30. I was in the mood for some peace and quiet, so I thought I'd get lunch here. I bought too much. Wanna eat together?"

"Hm?" You were now fully awake, and smelling the food made your stomach hurt even worse. You were so hungry.

"Come, let's eat." He dragged a table closer to the sofa and started opening up a few containers with fresh food from the cafeteria.

It smelled great.

Minho gave you some chopsticks and a spoon and placed a bottle of water in front of you.

"This is really good." You smiled, tasting the chicken soup. After examining all the contents on the table, you realised that he only brought foods good for the stomach: chicken soup, fish, rice, apricots.

"I'm glad you like it."

"You... heard me and Felix the other day, didn't you?" You asked, avoiding his gaze.

"Mhm." He hummed. "I did."

"Thank you... but you didn't have to."

"Yea, I know. Not for my dummy stylist who messes up my look everytime and annoys the shit out of me, anyway." He shrugged.

"Yah, don't be like that!" You frowned.

"It's the truth though." He shrugged again, before bursting out into laughing. He really seemed to enjoy messing with you.

"When is Cinderella's ballet show?" He asked, looking at the food, as if embarrassed.

"What?" You asked, being taken aback by the sudden change of topic.

"Your sister's-"

"In 3 months."

"You're not gonna miss it if you're coming with us to the US, right?" He asked you, concerned. "You're coming, right?" He quickly added, as if scared to hear a negative response.

"Of course I'm coming." You chuckled. There was no way in hell you would miss an opportunity to travel through the major cities in the US with all expenses paid, while you got three times your salary. "And no, the show is exactly one week after we return, so I won't miss anything."

"That's great. Can I come see her too?"

"Wh-what?" You choked on your food, grabbing the bottle on the table and taking a big gulp of water.

"I'm curious, and I haven't seen a ballet in ages."

"They're all children, Minho. They won't be professionals like you guys." You chuckled.

"It doesn't matter. Get me a ticket?"

"Pfft." You laughed again. "Okay. Sure."

"Let me pay for her dresses." He blurted out, quietly, and you weren't sure you heard him right. Surely he wasn't suggesting giving you money.

"What?" You smiled, not knowing what to think.

"They are pretty expensive for you, but they don't mean anything to me, and I'd like to buy them."

"Uhm. Why?"

"Just because."

"Because of what?" You questioned further, looking at him in confusion.

"Because I want to. What do you want me to say?" He asked, annoyed.

"I don't... no." You denied his request, turning away to the food. Minho didn't insist further.

Once you finished eating everything, you felt more energised than ever, so you thanked Minho genuinely and felt ready to conquer the world. Perhaps it wasn't going to be such a shitty day after all.

After that day, every time you would have a common schedule with Stray Kids, Minho would either get lunch with you, or force you into coming with him to the cafeteria and buying you lunch.

You got used to his presence and his witty remarks, but he still annoyed to shit out of you with his dislike for various garments or accessories you would give him.

Tonight was the third show in the US, and all of you were in the large venue, preparing the Kids backstage.

The concert was amazing, but as soon as Minho returned, annoyance was once again plastered all over his face. You were not in the main room, so he went to find you, and you were resting in a quiet place – the stairs of the hallway for the Staff. No one bothered to come here during the concert.

"Violet!" He groaned.

"What is it this time?" You rolled your eyes, annoyed. Why did he keep disturbing your quiet time after each concert?

"My cap fell off, and my earpiece got stuck in the fucking earring you gave me!" He shouted at you, and you stood up, facing him.

You had enough.

You went right in front of him, your chests almost touching, while you looked into his fiery eyes.

"You know what, Minho? You're whining so fucking much, I should be the one to say that you annoy the shit out of me."

"Oh yea?" He said, as if threatening you. "If you did your job right..."

"Look, no one else ever has any complains, so what is it with you? 'My ring is too big!'; 'The hair clip is scratching my head!'; 'My pants are too tight!'. Grow the fuck up!"

He seemed taken aback for a second, before smirking at you. You never showed this much resistance before, and he kinda liked it, although he preferred... more obedient girls.

He was sure you're gonna be the obedient type, though.

"You're truly the worst stylist I've ever seen." He challenged you, still sporting the dumb smirk.

"You know what, Minho? Maybe my coworker is right."

"About what?" Minho tilted his head.

You must be crazy.

But he was so close to you, and his perfume mixed with his natural scent after sweating on the stage was intoxicating. He was too close.

Violet, stop. You tried telling yourself, but when did you ever listen?

"We should fuck it out." You said plainly, glancing straight into his eyes.

"I'm not sure you want that, Violet. I'm not sure you can handle me taking all my anger out on you like that."

"Try me." You said again, confidence lacing your tone, as he pressed his body on yours and pinned you up against the wall, kissing you hungrily.

Your kiss was heated, and you wanted nothing more than to fuck him right there, but it was too risky. Any staff member could come in the hallway and see you.

"What is your room number?" Minho stepped away from you, lust visible in his eyes.

"42. Are you coming tonight?"

"No, baby." He chuckled. "I'm going to send you a present, and you're going to come to mine at exactly 11:30 PM, wearing it. Number's 143. Yea?" His hand was on your neck, fingers brushing your skin gently, as his eyes expectedly looked at you.

"Mhm." You nodded, already feeling excitement pool down in your stomach.

"Good girl." He kissed you again, before turning around and leaving you there all flustered. He just knew you were going to be the obedient type.

No way.

When you heard a small knock on your door at 10 PM, you weren't sure what to expect. Opening it, you saw one of the room service ladies holding two luxury black bags.

"Miss Violet? I have a delivery for you." She handed you the shopping bags hastily, then left.

The first bag contained a small box with a pair of Louboutin red bottom black high heels. You weren't sure how you were going to walk on them, but they were pretty, and considering the brand, expensive as heck.

Maybe you could sell them after tonight to pay for your sister's dresses, after all. You still haven't figured that one out yet. Perhaps you should've taken Minho up on the offer two months ago and let him buy them, since he was going to shower you with such gifts anyway.

You curiously opened the second bag and pulled out a lacy see-through black underwear set, and the sluttiest tight black dress one could find. Wearing it on your body, you took the time to admire yourself in the mirror. It was a strapless neckline, the dress being tight around the waist and supported by your hips, after which the dress would split on both sides of your thighs, dropping lower only about a palm's length.

You certainly never wore such a slutty dress, and the lacy three-piece underwear set – specifically the garters of the set – were totally visible under it.

You only had to go up a few floors, but would it be even remotely appropriate to wear something like this outside the room?

Fucking Minho. You cursed, thinking of what a shit eating smirk he must've had ordering these clothes. You didn't even want to think of tomorrow's walk of shame.

When the clock showed 11:25, you grabbed a black trench coat which you were glad to have brought with you to the US, unaware of the weather, and hugged it tightly around your body, not wanting to risk being seen like the 21st century biggest slut.

You made your way towards the elevator and pressed the 14th floor, then found the third room in the hallway, 143, and knocked.

Minho opened it eagerly, but frowned at the sight of you.

"What's with that?" he pointed to your trench coat, making you snicker.

"You didn't want me to walk through the whole hotel dressed like this, right?" You opened it up, showing him that you indeed wore what he bought for you. It was maybe the boldest thing you've done, but you were too far gone and way too horny to care anymore.

Minho was an ass, but he was attractive, and he had a good side to him as well, noting that he took care of your meals for the past two months. Why not have sex with him too while you're at it?

He stepped aside to let you walk in, and as soon as he closed the door, the trench coat flew off your body, and your back was glued to the door, as he started kissing you eagerly.

A few seconds in, you understood why he picked a strapless dress. Minho started kissing your jawline, then moved on to your exposed neck, sucking and biting your skin harshly. You moaned in pleasure, not giving a shit about how much he was marking you. You liked it.

Your tits were the next to become completely exposed, as he almost tore the dress taking it lower. He didn't even admire the lacy black underwear, he just took it off hastily, and you wondered why he bought it in the first place.

He kissed your chest down to your boobs and bit the sensitive skin on them, making you groan in pain. When you put your hands in his hair to signal him to slow down, he just grabbed them and slammed them tightly against the door, so you couldn't move.

Despite your small whines, he continued sucking on your right breast, his hand having fun with your left boob, fingers massaging and pinching your nipple.

Minho moved his hands on your hips, his mouth still attached to your right breast, as his fingers found the rim of your lacy panties. He took them off swiftly, disconnecting your bodies as he sat down on his knees in front of you.

He looked beautiful.

Without saying anything, he spun you around and spread your thighs apart, connecting his mouth to your pussy.

"Fuck." You moaned, feeling his tongue drawing stripes along your core and separating your folds as he was forcing the entry.

After a while, he moved his tongue up, and started eating out your butthole. You let out a gasp in surprise, as you truly weren't expecting that, and you felt embarrassed. You never did any butt play with anyone else, and you felt insecure, so you tried to turn around, but Minho had other plans, as he gripped your thighs tightly and slapped your left butt cheek powerfully, making you groan in pain once more. His fingers and the hit were sure to leave bruises tomorrow.

When he sensed that you wouldn't move anymore, his right hand moved from your thigh to your clit, and he started massaging it just as his tongue entered your hole.

You didn't know your ass could feel so good, and his fingers working on your clit at the same time brought a powerful orgasm out of you, your knees almost giving in.

You were already a mess, but the night was just beginning.

"Violet, let me tell you how we're gonna work tonight." He started, but you already barely heard him, still trying to recover and to keep your legs from shaking and giving in. Minho also seemed to notice, as he stood up and pressed his body on yours.

You felt his bulge against your ass, and you wondered how good his dick was going to feel deep inside of you.

"We're going to use the traffic light system. Are you familiar with that?" He whispered in your ear, and you shook your head.

"No, I don't think so."

"There are three colours. Green means 'I love it, you can keep going'. Yellow means 'I am a bit uncomfortable. Slow down, but keep going'. And red means 'Stop. I can't take it anymore'. If you use red, we're done. You can trust me to stop. Okay?"

"Yea. Got it." You nodded, feeling his hot breath on your neck.

"Promise me you're going to use red if it gets to be too much. Don't force yourself to please me."

"... I promise." You replied, and you were grateful he was so insistent in making you feel good, not just chasing his own pleasure as most men you had sex with until now would.

Minho didn't let you have any other time to recover from the orgasm. As soon as he heard the magic words promising him you're going to respect your own boundaries, he turned you once more with your back against the door, as he kissed away the hurried gasps that were still coming out of your mouth.

He gripped your dress tightly and took it off you, then grabbed your wrist and took you in front of the bed, grabbing your hair to make you kneel down in front of him.

You watched expectedly as he unbuckled his belt, taking out his dick. Once again, knowing exactly what he wanted, he didn't miss a beat in forcefully sliding his whole length down your throat.

You choked on it, but he didn't care, he just kept guiding your head to suck him off and used your mouth like a fleshlight.

You started tearing up involuntarily and felt your saliva coming out of your mouth and getting everywhere on you and on the floor each time he would take his dick out to let you breathe for air.

You were so wet, you desperately wanted to be touched again, even if you just came less than 5 minutes ago, so you moved your right hand to your clit and started playing with it. As soon as Minho noticed, he pushed his dick as far as it could go in your throat, and chuckled lowly.

"You're so selfish you wanna get off again?" He laughed at you mockingly, taking his member out again and grabbing your chin, raising your head up to look at him. His eyes were dark and full of lust.

He yanked you from the floor and threw you on the bed, starting to take off his clothes.

"Off." He pointed to your garters, the only piece of clothing left on your body, and you obediently followed his orders, remaining naked on the bed while you waited for him to come to you.

You noticed a scar on his abdomen, and you wondered if that was the reason why he was so mad when you gave him a shirt that went too far up, but he didn't leave you much time to think, as he made his way over you and pressed his body on yours, kissing your mouth while he slid in you with ease.

"You fit me so well." He complimented you, moving his mouth to your neck and leaving love bites everywhere he touched, but after a few more thrusts, he pulled out of you and made you turn around with your ass in the air, and he started fucking you doggystyle.

"Fucking hell." You moaned, as you felt his powerful thrusts. Was it dancer's stamina?

Minho spat on your asshole and started spreading his saliva around with his thumb, massaging the entrance. You felt exposed, but couldn't complain as he put his thumb inside, starting to stretch your walls.

"Colour?" He asked, slowing down his movements momentarily.

"Fuck, green." You moaned again, just wanting him to start moving again. His finger in your ass felt good, something that truly took you by surprise, as you never envisioned yourself putting anything up there.

Soon enough, Minho swapped the thumb with two of his fingers, moving them in and out of you as his dick grazed your G spot every time he moved his hips. The stretch was getting a bit uncomfortable, but you soon felt another orgasm creeping in, and started gasping for air as you let go of that knot in your stomach.

"Good girl." Minho whispered, taking his fingers out of you and pressing his thighs on the back of yours, pushing you down on the bed. He seemed to know your knees wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

He moved in and out of your pussy a bit slower while you recovered from your orgasm, and with a last thrust, he took his dick out and rested on top of you for a moment, kissing your shoulders and back, leaving marks everywhere.

When your breathing slowed down after a few seconds, he repositioned himself, this time at your other entrance. His dick started pressing into your ass, and you felt a painful sting that made you close your eyes tightly.

"Minho, it hurts." You whined, feeling him push in.

"I know, baby, can you take it?" He asked you lowly.

"It's... my first time... there." You whined again, feeling hot tears staining your cheeks.

He was hovering above you, and with his tip inside, he brought his face closer to you and whispered.

"Colour?"

"Ugh." You groaned in pain. "Y-yellow."

Hearing you, Minho started pushing into you deeper and bit your right shoulder strongly, making you cry out in pain. The distraction worked, however, as your brain didn't seem to register which was more painful. You sobbed, but he comforted you, whispering sweet words.

"It hurts!" You cried out.

"Shh. I know, I know it does. You can take it, baby. I know you can."

He moved his hands on your inner thighs and spread your legs apart, allowing him better access.

"Oh God." You sobbed, feeling him bottom out into you.

He stayed still for a few moments before thrusting his hips back and forth, and you found that with each thrust, the feeling inside your ass was getting less and less unpleasant.

Minho brought his fingers and your clit and rubbed it quickly, as he was mercilessly fucking your asshole.

Being under him like this, with his dick in your ass and his fingers all over your pussy, you blacked out and let yourself experience a third orgasm that night, that was so powerful, you started squirting, something you've never done before. It was so good, it made you see stars. Your ass clenched around his dick, making Minho groan in pleasure.

"Such a slut for me." He grunted. "Do you like getting your ass fucked? Coming on my dick like that?"

You only whined in response, your mind no longer able to form any coherent words.

He continued fucking into you powerfully, before his own orgasm took over, and he cummed inside your ass and filled you up.

Minho plopped down next to you, putting your right leg on his hip as his fingers played with your ass, taking his cum out of it.

He spread it all over your pussy, and got it inside with his fingers as well, as he started fingering you. You rested your head on his shoulders, letting him have his way with your body, and you came for the fourth time that night, whining strongly.

Your body could no longer take it. Instead of letting you go through your orgasm slowly, Minho kept fucking you with his fingers, until you hugged his body tightly, putting your left hand steadily on his back and whispering a small "Red".

Minho stopped immediately, hugging you back.

"You did so well." He praised you. "I loved it so much, Violet."

You didn't have any energy left to reply to him, your body feeling weaker than ever.

You felt his weight disappear from next to you and a big blanket covering your body.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower then run a bath for you. You should also pee, to prevent any UTIs, okay?"

You still didn't hear him, but missed his presence next to you.

You don't know when he picked you up, but you started to become a bit more conscious as he helped you sit on the toilet, and he left the bathroom so you can have your privacy.

You started peeing, feeling both your holes burning up.

Then, you stood up, your legs shaking under your weight, and hopped into the bathtub, letting it fill with you inside of it.

Minho knocked on the bathroom's door after a while.

"Violet, can I come in?" He asked gently, and you replied with a small "Yes", your voice hoarse.

Minho came inside and made his way closer to the bathtub, gently caressing your face.

"Can I wash you?" He asked, and you nodded.

He let the water start draining as he took shower gel into his hands and started spreading it on your arms and body. He washed his hands off the soap and brought his right one down, brushing his fingers on your swollen private parts.

You winced in pain and placed your hand on his, wanting to stop him from touching you any further.

"I'm not going to do anything, Violet. Don't worry. I just want to wash my release off you." He said gently, and you just nodded, trusting him and letting him take care of you.

When he was done washing you, he grabbed a big, white towel and wrapped it around you, as he took you in his arms and put you back on the bed. You took the towel off, wanting to be more comfortable, when you noticed the new sheets.

"Oh, the bed was a mess, so I called reception to have them come and change them." Minho clarified with a smile after seeing your confused expression, making sure you were comfortable under the covers and laying down next to you. He was thoughtful, and you were glad he did that, as the bed was filled to the rim with your release and his.

You closed your eyes and fell asleep quickly, as Minho brushed his hand through your hair gently.

Minho woke up the next morning to a bang on his door. He quickly put on some pants and a shirt as he noticed you still sleeping soundly.

Opening the door, he saw Jisung.

"Man, you're going to miss breakfast if you don't hurry up!" He scolded his elder.

"That's okay. I'll order something later." Minho quickly brushed him off, wanting to do nothing more than to come back to bed next to you.

"Anyways, I think I left my Switch here, so I came to get it." He brushed past Minho, not understanding why he was pulling his arm to try and get him out of the room.

And then he saw you sleeping in his bed, naked under the sheets, and he went as red as a tomato. He literally ran out of the room.

"Oh my God, what the hell!"

"Quiet down or you're gonna wake her, idiot." Minho face palmed, finding it amusing how flustered Jisung became.

"What did you do to her?! She's all bruised up!" He exclaimed quietly.

"Nothing she didn't like, don't worry." Minho chuckled again. "Anyways, I'm gonna miss breakfast, and your Switch is not in my room, it's in Hyunjin's."

"Oh. Then-"

"Bye!" Minho waved before closing the door right in his friend's face, then returned to bed to see you still asleep. He was glad the commotion didn't wake you, as you seemed to really need to rest.

One hour or so later, you finally woke up, seeing Minho watching you stretch your limbs.

"Morning." He smiled.

"Hey." You replied, your voice even more hoarse than last night. He did a number on you, no joke.

"Slept well?"

"Mhm, I did."

"I'm glad, Violet. After last night, I'm no longer mad at you." He chuckled.

"Was that your hate fuck?" You smiled lazily, still trying to fully wake up.

"It was. Did you like it?"

"I did, but I don't think I can walk anywhere today..."

Your whole body hurt, and you were glad you had a day off before having to head to a new city for tomorrow's concert.

"Good that it's a free day."

"Mhm. Indeed."

"Do you want to see my love fuck next time?" Minho asked you, and you searched his eyes for any mockery. You were glad to see that you couldnt't find any.

"I do."

"Good. Let's go on a proper date, too." He said gently, petting your head lovingly.

"Okay." You smiled and grabbed his hand, kissing it. "Minho?"

"Yes, Violet?"

"Can you buy those dresses after all?"

"For your sister? Of course, love."

"I got you a ticket as well." You smiled at his choice of nickname, feeling your heart swell up with a new feeling.

"Thank you. I can't wait to go together." Minho replied, coming to kiss your lips.

~THE END~

33 notes · View notes