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ncitygirls · 3 years

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forgive - hyunjin x f reader

angst, fluff, smut, royal au, 4.1k

to die just as one graduates to motherhood is the tragic fate of countless women of your time. though there is no shame in falling victim to eve’s curse, one does feels a deserving sense of pride in their ability to look the devil in the eye and turn one’s cheek. to crawl through the forest of death and drag oneself towards the light. many are denied the privilege of survival. living is a sign from the heavens that perhaps there is a reason for such trials. that strife is a lesson in one’s journey, a meaning to life.

but to die before bearing your husband a son is a fate you would readily accept in place of the dark nothing you nearly surrendered to. the thought drifts into your mind the moment your greatest trial and grandest reward shifts in your arms, your daughter’s wails slowly rising in pitch and frequency as you smile loftily at her bundled form in your lap. she sings a song most would call unbearable. the screech so shrill, it pierces through even the most impenetrable guard. but never through you. you could continue to find peace in the deafening sound had it not been for your husband. your dear, sweet husband.

your king.

your king, whose presence thus far escaped you. that is until he asked, just a decibel louder than the wailing infant, “could you please settle her, sweet?”

“oh,” you glance at his rigid form, across your living quarters, to find his pretty scowl trained on his heir, only softening when his eyes meet the familiar orbs of his queen. “my apologies, hyunjin. is she distracting you?”

“no,” he breathes, allowing his head to fall back on the loveseat, his sculpted cheek puffs. “it’s just annoying.”

“it?” your eyes quickly return to him, only to be met by the back of his morning paper. “i do hope you are referring to the sound itself and not to your child, my love?”

“does it matter?” he sighs, realising moments too late that the room has stilled. “my dear, i did not mean to offend.’

“of course not, your highness,” ah, ‘your highness’. you call on the title in the times you wish to hurt him most. “she is but a child, of course you meant her no offense. i ask for your mercy, sire.”

“i sense hostility in you.”

“shall I call on a nurse for you, your grace?” he wonders for a second what the reason could be before you readily come to his aid. “it is most unlike you to use sense of any kind.”

“that was out of turn-”

“me? my king, you believe it is i who is out of turn?” hyunjin knows there is no answer to such a question. because yes would present grounds for annulment and no would mean he is wrong. and kings cannot be found in the wrong. “not the new father who refers to his daughter as ‘it’? of course it is not he who is speaking out of turn, not when he is a king.

“when he is a man.”

“ah, ‘men are the source of all the world’s ailments’, must we hear excerpts from your manifesto again, my love? it is only noon,” he assumes you hear only humour in his tone and decides to take it a step further. “is it in your plans to fill the house of hwang with women just to spite me?”

“oh,” you breathe, smiling softly as he watches, “is it a son you desire, hyunjin? is that what you want?” his eyes squint as he watches his love rise to place his only heir in the cot before you glide over to him, sweetness vanishing from your eyes as you succumb to your wrath. “you want a son, king hyunjin? then give me one.”

“leave us.” the servants standing by flee the room, quick to abandon a maid who halts as hyunjin blocks her path. “take the child.”

she takes a hurried step towards your child before she is stopped once more. “take my child and i will take your hand.” the poor girl is quick to abandon her king’s direct order before fleeing the scene, closing the door as she departs.

a biting silence takes the place of the bodies that once filled the chamber, thickening every corner of the room. minutes pass before hyunjin realises you have no further interest in him. “if it were not for the fact my heart beats for you, my beloved, i too would take my leave.”

“your heart? is that what beats in your chest, hyunjin? a heart?” he scoffs, unbothered by the deflection masked by your jab. “kings are meant to rule, not jest. do not humour me.”

“was your tea cup mistaken for a bedpan?”

“i almost died, jinnie!” he withers as you tremble, your eyes misting as you try to find someone resembling your beloved in the man sat across from you. “i almost lost my life bearing you the heir you prayed for, only for you to treat her with the same regard one does a child born in illegitimacy.” he wishes to deny it, and you see it too. but your eyes are alight and hyunjin swears he sees his end in them. “she is your child, hyunjin. and should she be your only, she will wear your crown with pride and rule as well as any boy ever could.”

“i know that.” your scoff stung like a strike to the cheek and winds him like a blow to the gut. “i do. y/n, i swear it to you.”

“then perhaps you should act like it.” he finally sees what fuels your rage and rests behind your eyes: disappointment. “you cannot love me and not my kin, jin. i won’t allow it.”

“my love,” he reaches for you but you repel, moving instead to the babbling baby. “you mistake my desire for a son as a lack of joy for my daughter.” pulling your hands from the sides of the cot, he dwarfs them with his own. “i love her with everything i have in me. i swear.”

“had my father received me as you did our child, i would not believe that to be the case.”

“forgive me, my love.” you’re quick to cast your gaze elsewhere, ignoring his puppy eyed plea. “i will pray the heavens take mercy on me, but i need you to first. please believe me when i say i love her. i do. she is half of the greatest woman to ever walk this kingdom, i worship her.”

“then why? why the cold shoulder? why treat her this way?” he suddenly finds himself unable to answer, opting instead to rock the baby, basking in her glow. with a soft sigh, you raise a hand to his cheek, offering him reprieve as he burrows into your palm. “what troubles you?”

“nothing, my love.” your disbelieving gaze sends his shoulders south, his whole frame sagging. “it’s just my dealings with the courts.” of course. the courts. “i spent every night bowed in ceaseless prayer. i prayed for your health, for your life, for our child. i prayed until bruises formed on my knees, my love. and still i prayed. but as i prayed for my family, they prayed only for my successor, for a boy.” though you find it impossible, he manages to lower himself further. folding himself into you, almost in two, hiding his long face from view. “once I caught wind of their talks with the lord, i condemned it. i condemned any prayer against my wishes but the court can do as they please in their solitude and i know we do not rule on fear but after her birth, for the first time in my life? i wished we did.” it was inexplicable, the difficulty you had beholding an enraged hyunjin, the skin curving around his knuckles and jaw as they tightened with every word he uttered, your heart tightening in kind. “i wanted to make heads roll, to end them for the disregard they paid my child, my family, my wife.” it starts to make sense now, his grinding teeth and red rimmed eyes. his late and sleepless nights. the nights hypnos granted him even a slither of reprieve were spent clinging to you, a cold sweat soaking the sheets, puzzling you beyond belief. it all makes sense. “the courts have filled me with doubt. they warned of foreign enemies who would hear of our heir, of our girl. that they would see her as a sign we are weak, that we are lesser.”

“but how can they speak in such a way? we are ahead of such things.”

“my love, you must see past the likes of lord kim and baron han. the rest of the men in my court are old, and stuck in old ways. our nation has not seen a queen on the throne since the likes of my widowed great, great grandmother.” his hands cup your face, bleary eyes blinking back the tears his heavy words summoned. “i love you, y/n. and i love her. all i want is for you both to be safe. but i live in constant fear that i cannot keep you safe with enemies outside our walls and evidently within.”

“hyunjin, my love,” he settles at the soft spoken call of his name, the loving address soothing his forlorn heart. “i will burn the court to the ground before they bring harm to my kin. or to you.” it is not unlike you to let your anger consume you. in fact, it is but a facet of what made him fall in love with you. what continues to bother him is the fact he was not the first to make such a bold promise. “my love?”

“fret not, my queen,” his nimble hands gather his daughter from her cot, his lips pulling in a soft grin as the child gargles, reaching up for him. “it is just, with my brains and your ferocity, i believe this hwang might be the greatest queen- no, ruler levanter has ever seen.”

“forgive me, my love,” the apology fills the space to his left, from where your temple rests on his shoulder, fingers toying with his undershirt. “but you do not suggest that this girl will be inheriting her brains from her father-”

“watch your mouth.”

“watch it for me.”

“careful,” he warns, dropping his lips to yours for a brief peck before withdrawing but an inch, “i might just give you that son you asked for.”

“careful, or i might just let you.” your rebuttal has him fanning your lips with a breathless chortle, urging you to rise to the tips of your toes and connect your lips to his once more. when you withdraw, he follows, resting his forehead on yours, smiling softly as your eyes meet. your voice is barely a whisper as you enquire, “what do we do now, my love?”

“now, i will handle the courts,” huffing, hyunjin places a kiss to the crown of his daughter’s head, smiling as he does. “i am afraid you will just have to handle everything else.” the regret in his words do not match the smirk on his lips, though he confesses, “i do not envy you, my love.” placing the baby in the cot once more, he pulls you into his chest, resting his cheek at the uppermost point on your head. “but i will keep you both safe. i put my life on it-”

“sire,” you warn, leaning up to kiss his neck. “your life is no longer yours to wager.”

“is that so?” hyunjin only grins at your assured affirmation. “my queen, is there anything that is mine in this kingdom?”

“me.” even after all these years, hyunjin is undone by you. from your matter of fact utterance, a breathless admission of submission to your glowy eyed gaze, eyes shining with pure adoration. “i belong to you.”

“you do?” he sighs when you nod, the small bounce of your head forcing his own head up and down. his eyes and hands slowly trail down your arms stilling at your fingers. slipping his digits between yours, he raises them to his pouted lips, slowly pressing each one with a kiss so soft and so sweet, you nearly jump as he speaks. “and these? do these belong to me?”

“yes, sire.”

“good,” he breathes, joy flashing behind his eyes. “and what about this?” he whispers against your lips, his plump lips tangling with your own. only after playing with your tongue, sucking on the muscle and swallowing your whines does he ask, “is this smart mouth of yours mine?”

“all yours.”

he nods in agreement, fingers gliding down the side of your neck, dusting over your chemise to cup you over your stay. only to find you bare. “were you that hastened to join me for tea?”

“no,” you laugh, hitting his chest as he pulls you closer, enjoying feeling your near bare chest on his. “i breastfeed.” you love your king. for as slow as he is, he is twice as loving. you watch realisation dawn on him not once but twice, a slight pout stealing his lips, exaggerated by their natural downturn. “what is it?”

“i just,” he stops, laughing to himself. “i just realised these-” he cups your tender breasts, thumb barely dusting the sore nubs. “-they’re no longer mine.”

“hyunjin!” his laughter picks up before it stills, the sleeping princess nearly awoken by the delight of her parents. “no, they’re on loan.”

“that’s fine.” he sighs, ducking his head to kiss the center of your chest. “i’ll wait.”

“i’m proud of you.”

“thank you,” your pride does not last long, as he lowers his hands to cup your ass and pull you flush against him. through your chemise and slip, you feel him. all of him. he deftly slips his tongue between your gasping lips, filling your mouth in ways that force your panties to dampen, the fabric soaking with every roll of his hardening cock to your aching slit. “but this is mine,” he reminds you, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “do you understand?”

“y-yes.”

“yes, who?”

“yes, your grace.”

“good. now, go get a nurse for the princess.” the king proclaims, emphasising his point with a firm slap to your ass as you almost sprint out of the room. as you return with the nanny, you feel your heart swell to almost double its size. you find hyunjin by your daughter’s basket, a soft lullaby floating in the air as he gathers her in his long, folded arms. you watch him pass her to the nanny, his fingers passing over her puffed up knuckle, in awe of her inherent daintiness. “sleep well, my dove.”

you fear he might have forgotten you as the two leave and he stares in quiet longing. you finally approach him as his sniffles begin. “hyunjin?”

“i have missed her.” he whines, wet eyes cast skyward, guilt staining his face. “i have been a terrible father-”

“no.” your scold has his gaze falling, his shining eyes searching your frowning face. “not terrible. never terrible. just a little distant.” you soften as he nods, understanding pouring into him as you craddle his face in your palms. “you know now.”

“yeah,” he agrees, leaning to press a wet kiss to your lips. “please forgive me, my love.”

“there’s nothing to forgive.” you hum against his pouting lips, moulding your mouth with his as you try and tear him from this spell of despair. “come sit,” you whisper, guiding him towards his original seat.

when he lowers into it and feels you lower in kind, though to the ground, he frowns deeply. “i-” he stalls as you palm him through his slack breeches, fingers gripping him through the fabric. he grinds up into your closing fist, eyes squeezing shut as you momentarily silence him. the peace is short lived as he moans, realising what you’ve done to him. “i wanted to pleasure you.”

“and you will,” you quickly assure him, smirking when his frown deepens. “once i pleasure you.”

“fine.” he concedes, crossing his arms as you unfasten his breeches. you glare at him through your lashes until he huffs, stiffly raising his hips to allow you room to lower his garments down his thighs. “is there anything else i can do for you, mrs hwang?”

“that is all.” you chortle, fanning the reddened, leaking head of his cock. the sound forces a smile on his face until your tongue glides against his glistening slit. he almost chokes when you gaze up at him suddenly, eyes full of too much love for one king to fathom. “you just relax, okay?”

he can barely make himself nod as he fills your sight with his lovesick smile. “i don’t deserve you.”

“i know.” you rise to your knees to swallow his retraction, enjoying the lurid way he melts under the touch of your lips and palm. you offer languid strokes up and down his length, thumbing at his slit as he practically dribbles down himself. “jinnie, you’re making a mess.”

“‘m sorry.” the whine isn’t worrisome, but rather his second admission of guilt. with a gentle shake of your head, you raise your unsoiled hand to his lips, smearing your mingled saliva across his chin.

“i like you messy,” you admit, watching his eyes glaze over at your confession. “you’re always so proper now. you were never like that.” you squeeze him tighter at his base as you speak, dragging up the length of his cock, forcing a mewl from his throat as he releases his bitten, spit slicked lip. “remember when you were still a prince, and i just a lady?” he nods dumbly, head rolled to the side as drool pools on the corner of his mouth. “you used to fuck me in the greenhouse as it rained on a starry night. and behind the guards’ stables. even in the old maid’s quarters-”

“tha-that’s because we couldn’t anywhere else.”

“true,” you tut, wiping his chin as he fucks up into your closed fist. “yet now the kingdom is yours, you only ever fuck me in the castle.”

“but i always fuck you well.” when you just smile his hips falter, brows knitting as you massage his tensed thigh. “say it.”

“say what?”

“that i always fuck you well.”

“you do fuck me well,” you knowingly half agree, pumping him in your tight fist before he grabs your wrist. only a few seconds pass but the small fire ignited by your defiance burns for an eternity. the warm embers blazed to a full village fire when you squeeze at his base, moving to restart your ministrations. hyunjin only scoffs, clicking his tongue with a soft shake of his head. “a king’s ego should not be so dependent on his queen-”

before you can finish, his fingers cling to the base of your neck, squeezing in a way that traps the words in your throat. he feels you swallow, his dark eyes watching how you struggle to breathe. it’s dizzying. the way he eyes you, flitting between your expanding chest and gasping mouth. he presses the back of his hand to your chin, tilting your lips toward his mouth as he leans in. “it seems my ego rests on the mocking words of my smart mouthed wife,” he whispers into your open mouth, sucking softly on your bottom lip. “so, my queen, mightn’t you humour me? tell me that which i desire to hear.”

“you-” he senses an unfitting retort on your tongue and tightens his grip, marvelling at the delicious way your eyes roll back. he only loosens when theu water, gleaming in pitiful surrender. “you always fuck me well.”

“like i will now.”

“li-like you will now.”

“good,” he grins, proud of your slow but gratifying progress. helping you stand, hyunjin gathers the hem of your chemise in his fists, hiking it up to your waist before placing the fabric in your waiting hands. he feels for your undergarments, fingers gliding along the soft skin of your belly, purposely missing the waistband of your panties. he watches your breathing change with every long second he teases you, missing your sex in obvious ways. when you whine he only tuts, watching a frown kiss your features. “it’s not nice to be kept waiting, is it?”

“no,” you mumble, jutting out a full blown pout. “please touch me, hyunjin.” you too can sense your lover’s utterances before they are ever fully realised. like now, when he smirks, knuckles dusting over your throbbing heat. “properly.”

your emphasis has him chortling, the sound delighting you in ways you cannot explain. how long had it been since you had him like this? warm and open, delighted by the trivialities of foreplay. excited by your pending coitus. it brings a sudden joy to your heart, and, to your husband at least, an inexplicable grin to your bitten lips.

“what tickles you, my love?”

“i just missed you.” you confess, not too dissimilar to his earlier realisation. “i want you happy always.”

“oh,” he breathes, finally pinching your panties and sliding them down past your ankles. “one can feel nothing but joy when you are near.”

“is that so?” you hum as he pulls you to his lap, his thumb dipping into your soaking cunt before slow dragging it along your swollen clit.

“it is so,” he affirms, offering soft pecks to the taut skin of your neck. “it’s why i married you.”

“really- oh,” words stick in your throat as he dips a lone finger in you, his thumb still circling as he presses against your walls. your lips find his in your daze, somehow still embarrassed by the awe with which he regards you. your hips roll against his cramped hand, chasing the beginnings of a tightening coil in the base of your belly. “you’re still infatuated with me?”

“always.” he removes himself without leaving your lips, swallowing your taunt as he guides you onto his awaiting cock. time stills for a moment as you adjust, brain whirring as you both realise the time that has passed since you had him like this. your throbbing walls clamped around his pulsing cock. the subtle tremor of his thighs as you sink onto him, buttocks resting in his waiting palms. he offers a gentle squeeze, one of comfort and question. “can you move?” you nod against his skin, damp forehead pressed to his as he guides your motions with gentle tilts of his wrists. his tongue slips into your mouth, readily lapping at your own as you wrap your arms around his neck. his hands rise to your hips in time, guiding you with a firmer grip, enjoying the slow rock of your hips on his aching cock. he feels you squeeze around him as he sucks on your tongue, his thighs shaking with a looming orgasm. he pulls you in closer, lifting you inches in the air before leaving your slippery lips. before you can even think to protest, hyunjin snaps up into you at a steady pace, enjoying the mewls he conjures from you.

“jinnie, i’m- i-”

“it’s okay,” he groans, on his own verge of release. “it’s okay, my love. let go.”

and you do. moments later you let go, loudly soiling his lap and favourite loveseat as he fucks into your soaking cunt. seconds later he follows you, head thrown back as he releases in you, fearful of nothing but the stained upholstery as he thanks the lord above that you are his wife.

“you owe me a new chair.” he says suddenly, still panting as you pepper soft kiss along his shoulder blade. “and new breeches.”

“it is you who is to blame, sire.” he watches with a raised brow as you rest on his knees. “you always fuck me so well, how could i help myself?”

“ah, right.” he folds when you laugh, the sound forcing his hands upward, along with the corners of his lips. “forgive me, my love.”

“i love you.” you whisper instead, settling against his chest as you both ignore the compromising position you’re in. “so much.”

“and i you,” he swears. “always.”

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opheliadawnwalker3 · 3 years

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The Watching

Author’s Note: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor’s fic swap. I picked @sherrybaby14 :) Hope you like it hun and Merry Christmas!!

Synopsis: Reader has been dating Thor for about a year and is celebrating her first Yuletide on Asgard. But she’s unprepared for certain traditions that are expected of her. Or that these traditions also involve Thor and his companions.

Contains: strong sexual content, cunnilinguous, penetration, threesome, voyeurism, some audience participation, fluffy holiday cheer

Wacchinsrinn- Old Norse means “The Watching”

*****************************************************************************************

You stand in the elaborately decorated banquet hall, carefully nursing another full goblet of Asgard’s famous honeyed wine. Thor had left you alone, mere moments before, no doubt to personally welcome his people to the Yule celebration. In the corner, several Asgardian citizens play musical instruments and the rest are either drunkenly dancing, feasting on delicious foods or laughing uproariously. Eager faces are painted with intricate symbols and there is much joy and carefree energy in the air. Normally, you’re not such a wall flower, but being surrounded by Thor’s fiercely lively people is a whole new experience for you. You had already witnessed the burning of the wooden Yule wreath earlier and had cheered with the others when it was sent hurtling down the hill and fell among the stars. In the corner of the vast hall stands the Yule tree, decorated not with the colored glass balls you were accustomed to, but small statues of previous kings and mythical creatures. After seeing the God of Thunder for over a year, you were overjoyed to hear him say that he wanted to finally bring you back to his world. His kingdom.

It happened to be close to Christmas, but other than the typical mandatory bland office party and receiving a few Christmas cards, you really had no other plans. Why on Earth would you ever pass that up? The chance to not only see the place he grew up in, but to be among his people and culture. His friends and-

“Well, well...don’t we look fetching this evening?” A sly familiar voice utters behind you, erupting a subtle heat across the back of your neck. Turning, you see Loki, sharply donned with tailored green silks and a gray pelt clasped around his shoulders. Instead of his usual absurdly large golden horns, a delicate golden crown balances at his temple.

You raise your goblet to him. “You clean up rather nicely yourself.”

Loki tilts his head, keen emerald eyes slowly trailing down your body and you could almost swear he could see right through the crimson silk of your gown. His lips curl into a devious smile and your heart flutters against your will. “Do enjoy the festivities...mind the honeyed wines. They are much stronger than the tepid liquors served on Midgard.”

You roll your eyes as you defiantly take another sip. You would be lying if you said, you weren’t already feeling buzzed. The warmth that spreads across your cheeks, that familiar light headed feeling. You would have to pace yourself. You can’t make a fool out of yourself at your first Asgardian Yuletide. And you were here with Thor for God’s sake. You didn’t want to humiliate him or yourself.

A loud clang sounds near you and your attention is momentarily drawn to Volstagg, one of Thor’s infamous Warrior’s Three, laughing boisterously as he picks up his dropped axe. No doubt, in the middle of a drunken retelling of old battle stories.

Lips brush the shell of your ear and you automatically tense up. Your breath hitches as slender fingers ghost over your bare shoulders.

“I look forward, to seeing much more of you later.” Loki purrs huskily into your ear and you are rooted to the spot. His alluring voice holds dark promises. Your brows furrow in confusion and before you are able to ask just what he means by that, Thor’s voice cuts across the room. You look over to see him cross the room with jovial presence. His bright blue eyes crinkle with happiness at the sight of you.

Loki withdraws from you completely and you let out a sigh of relief. The wine...it must have been the wine. You would have to drink water to spread it out.

Seemingly unbothered at Loki’s closeness, Thor smiles warmly as he slips his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss. You sigh, relishing the comforting feeling of his lips and presence as you pull him in closer. For the past year, Thor had been a beacon of light in your boring, mundane life. He would entertain you for hours with tales of his childhood, battles and stories about his time with the Avengers. He made you feel exciting just by being in his presence. Feel incredibly safe just by being in his strong embrace. He never left you wanting whether physically, mentally or emotionally. You only hoped you did the same for him.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Thor’s deep voice rumbles against your mouth.

“I am. I just wish we could-”

“Ah there’s the lovely couple. Starting Wacchinsrinn a bit early are we not?” You recognize Fandral’s charming voice sounding next to you. You pull back from Thor slightly with a raised brow.

“Wacchinsrinn? What’s that?”

Before the smaller roguish blonde can answer you, Thor laughs and quickly begins to lead you away from the two men. Confused, you look back to see Fandral and Loki exchange knowing smiles.

“What on earth was that about?” You ask, setting your now empty goblet down on one of the long wooden tables. Funny, you hadn’t even remembered drinking it all.

“Just Fandral with one of his jokes. Pay the scoundrel no mind,” Thor replies playfully before spinning you around wildly among the other dancing patrons. You wish to press him further but a mixture of the otherworldly alcohol and contagious euphoria around you, causes your curiosity to melt away and you gather your skirts to join the dance.

**********************************************************************************

About an hour later, Thor leads you down the hall by the hand. You stumble a bit and giggle with tipsy merriment as he turns the corner to open a pair of grand ornate doors. You tilt your head in confusion as you take in the lavish yet unfamiliar chambers within.

“Hey this isn’t the same room, you showed me earlier. This isn’t yours, right?”

“You’re right, Y/N. This is our room.”

“Ooo our room you say?” You tease as you take in your surroundings, Thor walking in behind you to shut the doors. Inside the chamber was a large king sized bed with a full canopy and intricately carved designs in the wood. The sheets were golden and there was a table set with trays of cheese and fruits and silver pitchers no doubt filled with mead and wine. But that wasn’t what caught your eye. You look back at Thor whose looking down at you with an expression you can’t quite decifer.

“What’s with all the chairs pointed facing the bed? Kind of an unusual arrangement, isn’t it?”

“It’s for...Wacchinsrinn.”

“There’s that word again. What is it?”

Before Thor can respond, there is a low chuckle and suddenly Loki appears next to you.

“Oh dear, you haven’t told her. How irresponsible and devious of you, brother.”

“Hush, Loki.” Thor looks down at you and brings a massive hand to cup your face. “Please forgive me, Y/N. I didn’t want you to worry or feel pressured to do anything.”

“Although it is an Asgardian tradition. I don’t believe Y/N wants to be the cause of the King’s refusal to uphold a tradition maintained for thousands of years.”

“Not the time, Loki...”

“I disagree. I think it’s the perfect time...”

“No he’s right. I’m not going to stand in the way of you upholding your kingly duties. Whatever you need to do, I’ll support you.” You encourage, placing a hand on Thor’s arm.

“How touching, but your amorous participation is very much required.” Loki interjects with a dangerous smirk and Thor sighs, clearly conflicted. You look back and forth between the pair.

“My what participation?”

Before Loki could reply, Thor raises his hand in front of him.

“Loki, leave us.”

“Oh, I think not. This is all rather entertaining for me.”

“Leave now.” Thor’s tone is tense and clipped and you can’t help feeling a little nervous. What is going on? Why all the secrecy? And what exactly is expected of you?

“So tense, brother. Perhaps you should have her tend to you first and help get those bothersome...kinks out.”

Thor says, nothing, merely glares at Loki, before the latter sighs in reluctant surrender.

“Very well, I suppose I could check on the rest of the rabble and see if they are ready to bear witness.” And with that, Loki disappears, leaving you and Thor alone once more. You look up at the god and cross your arms.

“Thor just tell me. What’s the tradition?” Your eyes widen briefly when you think back to all of the those Viking and Pagan shows you watched in mild preparation for the Yule celebration.

“I won’t have to do an animal sacrifice will I?”

Thor smiles and shakes his head as he brushes his fingers along your jaw. “No animal sacrifices will be required of you, I promise.”

“Okay...then what is expected of me?”

Thor pauses for a moment in quiet contemplation, gathering his thoughts before he eventually sighs. “On Asgard, the act of coupling is a merry and happy occasion. Asgardians do not view such an act with such...modesty as on Midgard.”

You nod, following along and very curious as to where this is going.

“And so...the notion of sharing such a joyous act with others...is considered...a generous gift.”

You eyes widen slightly as the realization begins to wash over you. “And when you say sharing...you mean...??”

Thor gives you an embarrassed smile. “Those closest to us shall bear witness to our union.”

“So...your companions are just going to watch us?”

“If that is agreeable to you. It is not uncommon for them to join in should all participating consent.”

You chew on your bottom lip and cross your arms. “So that’s what everyone has been referring to all night.”

“Yes.”

You contemplate for a few moments more, weighing your options in your head. You should be appalled that your boyfriend just sprang this on you, royalty or not. But you just can’t find yourself to be angry. On the contrary...the idea is intriguing. You’d always been fascinated by the thought of voyeurism. Whether watching someone else or being watched yourself. But you’d never had the courage to explore it. There was even once an incident where Hawkeye accidentally walked into the room while you were riding Thor at Avengers Tower. Instead of being embarrassed...you only clenched tighter around Thor’s cock. Even felt a pang of disappointment when Hawkeye quickly left the room with amused apologies. Maybe this was your chance to finally explore one of your fantasies.

You finally look back up at Thor, his handsome face etched with worry and concern.

“Okay.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. I want to do this. For you, but mostly for me,” You admit, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. You see a flash of green in the corner of your eye and Loki appears next to you, holding two goblets full of wine. He gives you an impish smirk as he holds one out to you.

“How about a little more wine to take the edge off. Perhaps numb your defenses a bit,” Loki drawled as you eagerly accept the wine. A little liquid courage never hurt anyone. Thor watches you carefully as you take several large pulls of the sweet wine, embracing the numbing warmth that pools down your body.

“Are you sure about this ,Y/N?” Thor asks softly, his usual booming voice now quiet with uncertainty.

You set your now empty goblet on the table next to you and give him a confident smile. Sure, you felt emboldened by the wine, but you also felt very eager for what lays ahead Thor reaches up to cup your jaw with both hands, his bright blue eyes melting any doubts you might have had.

“Because if you’re not, then damn the traditions. I will never ask you to do anything you’re not ready for. We can leave now, go back to Midgard and celebrate your traditional Christmas.”

You feel your heart swell with appreciation and adoration and you turn your head slightly to kiss his fingers. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course I will. You mean more to me that anything.”

“Then I want to do this. I’m happy to do it.”

Thor leans down to press his lips to yours once more in a sweet gentle kiss to which you eagerly reciprocate. Next to you, Loki chuckles as he takes a sip from his goblet.

“Not to break up this touching little moment, but the others are getting restless.”

Thor reluctantly pulls away, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“Then we shall not keep them waiting.”

The potent alcohol flows within you, but something else pools within. Excitement and pure unadulterated desire. Loki chuckles and you feel his hands on your hips as he presses in close behind you. Surprised, you look up to Thor for guidance, but he merely stares at the pair of you with a calm unbothered expression.

“And will you allow any of the witnesses to enjoy her as well?” Loki insinuates, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I myself, am curious if she tastes as good as she looks.” Your breath hitches and your heart begins to pound harder at his carnal implications.

Thor smirks and gestures down to you. “That is entirely up to you. If you desire another, then it shall be done.”

You let out a soft gasp, completely taken aback by this turn of events. But certainly not upset at the prospect. You would be lying to yourself if you never thought about how alluringly charming and attractive Loki is. So very different from your Thor, yet enticing all the same. When will you get another opportunity like this?

“Yes...I...I want you both.”

“Very well, then let them all in and we’ll begin the Wacchinsrinn.”

Loki presses a brief kiss to your neck, before gracefully leaving the room. You feel your nerves beginning to flutter in your gut, battling against your arousal and the tension in the air from the possibilities.

Thor steps up to you and carefully traces his hand down your front. Your nipples harden through the thin silk and you lick your lips.

“Who...who will be watching us?”

“The Warriors Three, Lady Sif, Loki and Heimdall will watch from the Rainbow Bridge since he cannot personally attend. But do not be nervous. You are perfection. This is a gift not only for my companions but us as well.”

You take a deep breath, heartbeat speeding up when you hear approaching footsteps and the large ornate doors open.

Fandral walks in first, his eyes drinking you in. “Ahh lovely, Y/N...you look ready for your first Wacchinsrinn. Tell me, has Thor prepared you properly? Because if not, I offer you my services. I’m told I’m quite talented in such matters.”

“Oh do settle down, Fandral. She has already chosen me to help...alleviate the tension. Do enjoy your seat, though.” Loki retorts playfully as he unclasps the fur from around his shoulders.

Fandral winks at you as he gracefully drops in his seat. “Well I suppose that silver tongue has its uses after all.”

The combination of alcohol, nerves, and your excitement for things to come, make your skin tingle with anticipation.

Lady Sif follows close behind, dressed elegantly in a fitted gown of midnight blue. Her usually tied up long hair, hangs down her back in loose curls. She takes her place in the middle seat and crosses her legs expectantly as she gives you a small encouraging smile. She gives a side eye to Volstagg, who decided to bring a large turkey leg to the ceremony, as he sits next to her.

“Honestly...must you eat even while we bear witness?”

Volstagg lets out a good humored laugh as he takes a bite of the roasted meat. “What is the point of enjoying such stimulating entertainment without filling my gullet? No point in doing things half way, I say.”

Hogun silently joins the group and crosses his arms, his stoic face betraying nothing. Thor stands tall and acknowledges all who are present.

“Now that we are all here, its time to begin. We thank those closest to us in sharing this moment. May this gift offer you many blessings and good omens on and off the battlefield.”

“And what a gift it is,” Exclaims Fandral, holding up his own pint of mead.

“Hear, hear!” Volstagg agrees excitedly. Sif and Hogun remain silent, but their subtle expressions hold a keen interest.

The Warriors cheer and you can’t help but smile at the almost absurd nature of it all.

“My desired and I shall drink from the cup and then proceed with Wacchinsrinn,” Thor exclaims as he holds out another goblet will only half full. The both of you drink from it and Loki takes the empty goblet away. Thor wastes no time undressing with unwavering confidence and leans down to capture your lips in a hungry kiss.

“It is time to be worshipped, like the goddess you are,” Thor purrs in a husky voice against your lips as his hands trail down your waist. His pretty words and deep tone makes your thighs clench together as your pussy throbs.

You feel Loki press in close behind you and he carefully pushes your hair off your neck. Their closeness is intoxicating. “But first you must bare yourself to us,” Loki whispers lowly in your ear as dexterous fingers make swift work of the clasps on your shoulders. The top slips down revealing your breasts and you gasp when Thor’s hands begin caressing with eager, calloused hands. Loki grips your hips as his mouth traces a tantalizing path up your neck.

Your fingers tangle in Thor’s blonde locks when he lowers himself to capture a pebbled nipple in his mouth. His mouth is hot and he licks and nibbles your breasts. You’re suddenly feeling very flushed, your skin scorching under their ministrations.

You feel Loki’s teeth against your throat and he chuckles into your ear. “You should think yourself fortunate. Our great grandfather would often bend his women over the table in the banquet hall during Wacchinsrinn. For all of Asgard to see. This way is far more...intimate.” With that he grabs your chin and kisses you greedily.

After a few moments, the two men lead you to the bed. Thor sits down first and pulls you back between his spread legs. His cock full and hard against your back. His kisses you once more and you feel his hands slide up your thighs, taking the crimson silk of your skirts with it. You lean back against his thick muscled body and stare up at Loki, who remains at the foot of the bed fixed with an expectant sneer.

“Would you like Loki to taste you? Allow him to thoroughly ready your body for me?” Thor questions as his fingers reach your eager cunt beneath the silk. You moan, your hips raising slightly to feel every caress of his fingers. He chuckles arrogantly and you hear the lewd sounds of his fingers easily slipping inside you.

“Well...it seems she’s already quite ready. We may not need your services after all, Loki,” Thor exclaims playfully, displaying his fingertips already soaked in your arousal.

“That may be brother, though I should like to hear it from her lips that she does not desire my mouth on her delectable quim.” Loki replies as he slowly pulls the green tunic over his head with smug ease, revealing his pale yet toned upper body. Both men know you’re not saying no at this point. In fact, no, is the farthest thing from your mind.

You give him a mischievous grin as you beckon him with just the crook of your finger and Loki obliges, crawling up between your spread thighs with a dangerous smile. He looks as though he may just devour you whole.

When his mouth meets your cunt, you immediately relax back against Thor, enjoying every sensation as Loki unravels you. His tongue glides along your slit with expert ease, rolling and flicking over your throbbing clit. Thor’s beard tickles your bare shoulder as he nips the skin and caresses your breasts. You felt trapped between the two brothers in the most heavenly way.

“How does she taste, Loki?” You hear Volstagg call out and your eyes snap open. You had almost forgotten you were being watched. You bite back a whine when Loki raises up slightly, your cunt already missing his mouth.

“Better than the finest of delicacies on Asgard. She truly is a delicious well of vanilla and honey.” Loki brags and your breath hitches when his lips immediately return to you, wrapping around your clit and gently sucking.

“I knew it. Pay up Fandral,” you hear Volstagg boast and Fandral sighs as he drops a few coins in his companions outstretched hand.

Beneath you, Thor undulates his hips into you and your cunt clenches tightly, wanting to be filled.

“I can feel Heimdall’s ever watchful eyes upon us. He is thoroughly enjoying the sights as well. He wonders if you would like my cock deep inside you with my brother’s mouth still upon you.” Thor whispers softly into your ear as he pinches a nipple.

Between Loki’s adept mouth and Thor’s touches and carnal words, you can barely form words of your own. But you manage just the same.

“God yes. Please, Thor...” You mewl pathetically as your thighs twitch around Loki’s shoulders. His fingers massage and squeeze your spread thighs.

With that, Thor raises your hips and lines your soaked entrance with his tip. Loki raises his head slightly to follow your cunt. His piercing green eyes staring up hungrily at you. Being worshipped by these men...feeling several pairs of eyes on you at once...its all very intoxicating.

“Lower yourself upon me. Let me feel you clench desperately around me.” Thor commands softly against your temple, his hands gripping your hips and holding you above him. You nod eagerly and you sink down onto him completely. Your pussy is dripping and more than ready, yet Thor’s thick shaft still stretches you slightly and the pair of you moan loudly. Loki chuckles against your flesh, sending vibrations over your clit and making your cunt tighten around Thor.

“By the gods...your grip is always so exceptional. I could just feel you squeeze me all day, though I’d be fighting the urge to drive into you with everything I have.”

“Move her skirts. We would like to see too,” Lady Sif commands from her seat. You briefly raise your eyes to meet hers and her expression is heated and very much satisfied.

“As the lady commands,” Thor agrees as he rips the silk away, baring the rest of you to the room.

You mewl loudly as Loki begins to speed up his tongue, sucking at your clit a little harder. Your fingers reach up to tangle in his dark tresses as he brings your body closer and closer. Your hips roll atop Thor and you continue to mercilessly squeeze his cock sheathed inside you. That familiar icy hot numbing sensation spreads over you as your body climbs higher and higher towards the peak.

“She’s definitely close. Such a sweet thing, they’ve barely had to touch her,” Fandral observes smugly.

“True, but I still bet that she will last through the night.” Lady Sif replies with subtle arrogance.

“Ah, shall we bet on it then, Lady Sif?”

“You have nothing I want, Fandral.”

“How about if I polish your armor for a full moon?”

“What, and let you leave spots all over my-”

“Will you two stop your incessant blathering? She’s about to fall and I would like to enjoy it in its entirety,” Hogun finally quips in with a surprisingly gruff voice.

You cry out as Loki’s mouth unravels you, causing your cunt to pulsate tightly around Thor. He grips you atop him as he hisses into your ear.

After a few more languid licks of your slit, Loki finally sits up from between your thighs and pulls you into a deep kiss. Your inner walls tighten around Thor yet again when you taste your own juices on Loki’s lips.

The room erupts in applause as the Warriors clap and cheer wholeheartedly.

“A good first round, I’d say!” Volstagg exclaimed as he slams his empty goblet upon the floor in celebration.

“I agree. I think Y/N is fully warmed up now. We’re going to need much more wine and mead before we proceed forward.”

“And more bread!” Volstagg adds, tossing an empty turkey leg upon his plate.

“I wonder if Y/N, will allow Loki to continue to tend to her,” Lady Sif muses aloud.

At that, Loki finally pulls away from you, licking your bottom lip with an imperious smirk. “I will of course, perform as such, should she require it of me.”

Thor laughs, clamping a hand on Loki’s bare shoulder. “Well down, brother. But I should like you to sit this next one out for now. I wish to ravage her myself this time.”

“Such a bore...but I will concede for now.” Loki sighs snidely before lightly touching your jaw and leaving the bed.

With Thor’s cock still buried inside you, you look up at him with an impish expression. “So, there’s more to Wacchinsrinn? We’re not finished yet?”

He brushes his lips against your temple as his hands tighten on your hips. “Oh no, my love. We go until you cannot go any longer. When you have had enough, then we will stop. But I know you and....I know you have several more hours in you.”

As he thrusts up into you again accompanied by the supportive cheers of his companians, you smile, truly feeling full filled for the first time in a long time.

From his post on the Rainbow Bridge, the ever watchful Heimdall smiles at the glorious sights before him.

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#thor x reader au #thor x reader smut #dark! thor x reader #thor oneshot #thor odinson #thor x you #thor x y/n #thor smut #smut fic #loki x reader #loki smut #loki x you #loki x y/n

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nerdzzone · 3 years

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Only For A Moment: October + November [part one]

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: September

Note: I was originally going to post this as one longer one shot, but I’ve split it into two. I haven’t finished writing the last part of the series yet and I’ve had a really bad and busy week so I haven’t had much time to work on it. It’s planned out, I just need to write it, but posting November as two parts gives me more time to finish it.

Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on this story. The support has been amazing!

-----

October 2020

"Hey," I greeted Chris as I poked my head around the door of his office. "Are you busy? Can I talk to you for a sec?"

He put down the script he was reading - something for a project he'd be starting as soon as the pandemic allowed - and nodded his head.

"Sure, what's up?"

I moved into the room, feeling strangely nervous about what I was about to ask.

"How would you feel," I started. "About me going to New York for a weekend for work?"

He raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised by my inquiry and I rushed to assure him a bit more.

"They sent all the protocols that would be followed along with the job offer and it seems like it would be as safe as it possibly could be these days and I would drive up, not fly, so that would cut down on the chance of exposure a bit too," I assured him. "But I know that there's always a risk at the moment and it affects you and Gray too so I won't go if you're at all concerned."

Chris was smiling by the time I finished my long explanation and I felt a glimmer of hope that he wouldn't shoot down the idea immediately. I missed working and while Chris at least had 'A Starting Point' to focus on and various scripts to read through, I'd been completely out of work for months and I was ready to get back into it.

"Whitney, you don't need to convince me," he assured me. "I trust you. If you think it's safe and you want to do it then go for it."

"Okay, thank you," I let out a breath of relief. "I really do want to do it. I miss working."

"I know what you mean," he agreed. "What's the project?"

I couldn't hold back my grin as I answered that question.

"I get to go hang out with your friends," I informed him. "It's a promo shoot for Sebastian and Mackie's new show."

"Aw, man! That's great," Chris laughed. "Would you mind if I tagged along? I won't get in the way, I'll stay out of the photo shoot, but it would be nice to have a change of scenery."

"You wouldn't be allowed to come to the photo shoot at all," I warned him. "That was part of the protocol - no guests - and I don't know how many places are open there right now, there might not be much for you to do."

"I can keep myself entertained," he shrugged before flashing me a smirk. "We can leave Grayson with my mom, it'll be nice to have an adults only weekend."

"That would be nice," I agreed, matching his smirk as I followed his train of thought. We did fairly well making sure we got some quality time together, but we had to be quiet and quick and we always had the threat of Grayson interrupting in the back of our minds. "It's just a one day shoot so we'd have the Sunday together too."

"That's great," Chris grinned. "It'll be nice to get away."

"It will," I agreed, walking around his desk to lean down and capture his lips in a kiss. "Our first romantic getaway."

He slid his arm around my hips to keep me close as he smiled up at me.

"I can't wait."

November 2020

Leaving Grayson was harder than I anticipated. Considering I used to leave him with Chris every other week, I thought leaving him for a weekend would be easy, but I was a weepy mess. I held it together in front of Grayson so that he didn't get upset too - even though he was completely unbothered as he skipped off into Lisa's house - but once we got in the car, I let a few tears slip.

Of course, Chris teased me about it, but there was something in the way that he slipped his hand in mine and squeezed it reassuringly that told me he was feeling it too. We’d all adjusted to our new normal and Chris and I had really embraced having Gray by our side all the time so while two days was not a ridiculous amount of time to be apart, it felt like a momentous occasion. However, after giving ourselves a few minutes to wallow in the sadness, we agreed to do our best to push those feelings aside. We deserved a weekend away. No matter how much we loved him, parenting twenty-four/seven for almost ten months was hard work especially while trying to build our new relationship.

By the time we arrived in Manhattan in the early evening, our melancholy mood had shifted. The drive, spent playing silly little car games like ‘I Spy’ and singing cheesy duets, had put us in a wonderful mood and kicked off our weekend nicely. It was a fairly long drive though so I let Chris check in while I scampered off to use the restroom in the lobby. He had the keys by the time I found him again and when we got up the room, I was shocked. It was a fancy hotel - Marvel did tend to be quite generous when it came to accommodations - but it wasn't until we walked into the room that I realized we had the penthouse suite.

"Holy shit," I gasped, looking around at the luxurious space and amazing view out over Central Park. "This has to be a mistake, there's no way Marvel would pay for this!"

"No, they wouldn't," Chris smirked as he dropped our bags and moved over to the bottle of champagne that was already chilling in an ice bucket. "But I would."

"What?" I giggled. "What are you talking about? We already had a reservation booked in my name."

"Yeah, and I upgraded it," he grinned. "I just paid the difference between the room Marvel booked and this one."

He popped the champagne and poured it for us before coming to join me at the window and handing me a glass.

"You didn't have to do that, Chris. This is a pretty nice hotel, I'm sure whatever room they booked would have been fine."

"Oh yeah, it would have been fine," he shrugged. "But fine isn't what I'm aiming for this weekend and since we can't do much outside of this hotel anyway, the least I can do is make sure we have a good room."

I was looking forward to getting back to work, but suddenly I wished that I didn't have to as the idea of a romantic weekend hidden away in our gorgeous suite seemed like the best thing in the world. But, I knew we wouldn't have come without an excuse, so I tried to focus on being grateful for the time that we did have together.

Slipping my arm around his waist and stretching up on my toes, I pulled him in for a kiss, trying to convey my gratitude and excitement for the weekend.

"Well, I can think of several things we can do in this room that will keep us very busy," I teased once our lips parted again. "We better get started now or we might run out of time..."

Chris chuckled as he took a sip of his champagne, but shook his head.

"Not yet, Winnie," he denied me, despite his raspy voice. "Why don't you take that champagne and run yourself a nice bath while I order us some room service?"

I felt a frown slide onto my face and I would have been embarrassed at my childish pout had I not been so confused about him turning me down.

"Why?" I asked. "I would have thought you'd be raring to go now that we can finally enjoy ourselves with no interruptions..."

"I am but I want to enjoy it,” Chris informed me, leaning down to nip at my neck before letting his lips hover next to my ear. "I want you relaxed and well-fed so I can take my time while I make you scream my name over and over and over."

His low voice sent shivers down my spine as his plan for the night sent a wave of arousal through me. My mouth suddenly felt dry and my brain forgot how to make words as I choked out an 'okay' and took myself off to the bathroom to do as he'd instructed.

When I wandered out into the living room area of our suite almost forty-five minutes later, I was thoroughly relaxed. Wrapped in a very fluffy white bathrobe that was at least two sizes too big for me, I announced my entrance with a contented sigh. Chris looked up at the sound and let out a laugh.

"What?" I giggled, striking a pose as I had a good idea what he found amusing. "They only had one size."

"You look adorable," he grinned at me. "C'mere, let me top up your drink."

I did as he asked, walking over to where he was sitting and noticed the cart full of food that was next to him. He'd ordered my favourite - mac 'n' cheese - and I felt a rush of love for him when I saw it. A lot of people had teased me over the years, insisting that it was more of a child's dish - something not refined enough for an adult’s palate - but it had always been one of my top choices and I was touched that he'd remembered.

He'd ordered a steak for himself and we both eagerly tucked into our meals, eating until we were almost painfully full and just barely saving enough room for the peanut butter cheesecake that he'd ordered for dessert. That was another favourite of mine and I got a stern warning from Chris - as I moaned through every mouthful - that I needed to control myself until we'd had a chance to digest our large meal. I bit back a smirk, almost tempted to continue my noises of pleasure just to antagonize him, but I reluctantly decided to behave.

After we ate, we curled up on the couch with something meaningless on the TV as we recovered from the large meal. We were half-watching it, half just basking in the contentment of our full stomachs until Chris eventually decided that we'd waited long enough.

My feet were draped over his lap as we lounged and I felt his hands slowly move from lazy stroking the tops of my feet to higher up my ankle. At first, I didn't pay much attention as I mindlessly scrolled through my phone, but as his hand trailed higher up my leg, his intentions became more clear. I fought to keep a straight face as I continued to ignore him even as his hand slid up to my knee. He kept it there for a few moments, rubbing his thumb against my skin, but he quickly lost his patience as I continued playing it cool. Letting out a soft growl, he returned his hands to my feet and with a swift tug, he moved me down the couch.

"Chris!" I giggled as my head slipped from the arm of the couch onto the cushion where my bum had been moments before. "What are you doing?"

"You were ignoring me," he smirked. "So, I took matters into my own hands."

"Maybe I was reading something important," I teased. "You're so rude."

He pulled again, moving my hips up onto his lap.

"I'm rude? We're on a romantic getaway and you're starin’ at your phone."

"Well, maybe you weren't being very interesting."

He chuckled at that, but shook his head.

"You're such a brat," he scolded. "Maybe I should just flip you over and teach you a lesson."

He moved a hand down and pinched my bum to emphasize his point and I gasped as a wave of intrigue flooded through me. Using the back of the couch for leverage, I pulled myself up until I was sitting on his lap, but the positioning was a bit awkward so I shifted and straddled him instead.

"I'm not sure if a spanking from you would be much of a punishment..."

My words made his eyes darken as his hands rubbed up and down my thighs.

"Oh, really?" He questioned and I nodded with a smile. "Well, that is very interesting information to have."

"I'm surprised you haven't brought it up before," I teased. "Since you're such an ass man."

"Shut up," Chris chuckled before forcing me to do so by pressing my lips against his.

It started off as a sweet, playful kiss, but the mood of anticipation between us quickly transitioned it into something more.

His hands moved from my thighs up to my hips as I let mine slide behind him - one rubbing the soft hairs on his neck as the other held the back of his head, keeping it firmly against my own. Our lips parted, letting our tongues bump and glide against each other and I felt a fire started to burn inside of me already.

Our position and the fact that I was wearing nothing, but a bathrobe meant that there was nothing between us other than Chris' jeans. I was pressed bare against him which became apparent when he used his firm grip to pull me even closer towards him. A gasp fell from my lips at the friction the denim caused and Chris pulled back to grin at me.

"Does that feel good?" He pressed my hips forward again as he asked the question and my eyes fluttered shut as I nodded. "Then keep going."

He titled his chin to capture my lips in another kiss as he loosened his grip on me, but his instructions had been clear. Taking matters into my own hands, I started rocking my hips slowly against his enjoying the sparks I felt every time I rubbed against him. I could feel him harden, the bulge underneath me growing bigger with every pass of my hips, and the feeling had me moaning into his mouth. I almost stood up - I almost pulled myself off of his lap and dragged him to the bedroom as my body craved him and wanted him inside me - but I remembered what he'd said. He wanted to wait, to take it slow and savour the experience so, with a smirk to myself, I continued my actions with the knowledge of his growing arousal only adding to my pleasure.

As if Chris could read my mind or feel my misguided sense of control, he tightened his grip again and pressed me even harder against him. I moaned at the sensation, pulling my mouth from his as my head fell backwards. I tried to find something to focus on, something to help me regain a morsel of self-control, but nothing in the room could distract from the pressure that was building quickly as the rough material dragged against my clit. A part of me was embarrassed to be rubbing myself against him like this, but with each thrust of my hips, a much bigger part of me grew too desperate to care.

Taking advantage of my exposed neck, Chris latched his lips onto the skin, nipping and sucking gently before tracing kisses up until his mouth was beside my ear.

"You're almost there, aren't you?" His voice was low and the way my fingers dug into the back of his neck was all the answer I could muster as his hands forced my body to keep up the steady rhythm. "I bet you're almost soakin’ right through my pants. You're so needy. Go on, Winnie, take what you want."

A whimper fell from my lips as his words sent shivers down my spine. My movements, supported by his hands, became even more frantic as I felt my release building to a peak and after a few more shifts against him, I let out a strangled moan as I crashed over the edge.

Chris continued his mumbled words of encouragement as his hands continued to force me to move until I melted against him and let my head flop onto his shoulder. My breath against his neck drew goosebumps up on his skin and I placed a soft kiss on them as I fought to control my breathing.

"How're you feeling?"

I sighed softly in response to Chris' question, fighting to make my brain function enough to form words.

"Wonderful," I purred into his ear after taking a moment to compose myself. "But I'm really dying to have you inside me..."

Without another word, Chris used his grip on my hips to lift me off his lap and onto my feet. My legs felt shaky from the strength of my recent orgasm, but they held me up as I stared down at Chris, a bit stunned by the fast movement. He looked up at me for a brief moment before raising an eyebrow and nodding his head towards our bedroom.

"Do you need me to carry you?" He questioned, his tone laced with sarcasm as he clearly noticed the quiver in my legs. "Or can you walk?"

I giggled and playfully rolled my eyes, but turned towards the bedroom. Trying to regain some semblance of power in the situation, I undid the robe that was still tied around my waist and let it fall to the floor. The action left me completely naked as I walked away and I heard a growl of approval from Chris followed by the sound of him jumping to his feet behind me. I scampered off with him hot on my heels, but he caught me in his grasp when I was a few feet past our bedroom door.

He easily lifted me off the ground and I let out a squeal as he tossed me onto the bed.

"Wow," I giggled as I flopped onto my back, leaning up on my elbows to look at him. "That was a graceful landing, real sexy."

Chris smirked as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"You're always sexy," he insisted, moving to the bed and crawling over me. "I can't get enough of you."

Before I could respond, his mouth was back on mine. I smiled against his lips and took a moment to run my hands over his toned muscles, but quickly moved them down to the belt on his jeans as I was eager to get things moving. Almost immediately, he pulled away with that damn smirk still on his face.

"Not so fast," he warned. "I said we were going to take our time."

"We already did," I whined. "Please, Chris, I want you so bad."

He dipped his head and kissed along my jaw until his lips hovered by my ear.

"And you'll have me," he assured me. "Eventually."

I let out a groan of frustration, but as he trailed his kisses lower until they reached my chest, the groan became one of pleasure. A hand slid up my side until it was level with his head and while his mouth captured one nipple, his fingers pinched the other. I gasped and arched my back up towards him, desperate to be as close to him as possible.

His actions started off soft. His fingers and lips worked in a gentle, almost teasing way that had me almost ready to whine for more, but just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he increased the pressure. His fingers pinched and tweaked one as he nipped the other and the sensation had my hips pressing up against him almost of their own volition. He chuckled as I lifted a leg to hook it over his hip, pulling him down in an attempt to find any friction as he moved to rest his chin between my breasts.

"You're so impatient," he teased. "I'm not gonna fuck you yet."

His voice was thick and rough from his own aroused state and it only made me more desperate.

"Please, Chris..." I whined. "Why not?"

Chris let his teeth graze against my skin briefly before moving further down my body, my question apparently going unanswered. He kissed his way over my stomach, an affectionate smile appearing on his face as he watched the muscles under his mouth quiver and twitch from his actions. It appeared he was intent on taking his sweet time and I really was about to start begging again when he finally settled between my thighs, pulling my legs to rest over his shoulders.

A snarky comment about him taking so long was on the tip of my tongue, but any attitude I was feeling disappeared as he pressed his tongue against me, licking upwards until he settled against my clit. I couldn't hold back the moans and gasps that poured from my lips from the sensation and for a moment, I worried I was being too loud. However, from the way Chris' fingers dug into my ass to lift me higher against his mouth, he seemed to find it encouraging.

He was focused and determined, his lazy mood from moments earlier seemingly gone and I wasn't complaining as I was already practically dripping on to the bed with need. He knew my body almost better than I did and the way his lips were locked on just the right spot, sucking with just the right pressure was driving me wild.

In a few mere minutes, I was already teetering on the edge, but when I gasped out a warning to Chris, he instantly pulled away.

I lifted my head as I let out a growl and scowled down at him - the cocky smirk on his face only adding to my annoyance.

"What the hell, Chris," I huffed. "Keep going!"

He kissed my thigh as I felt an almost painful ache between my legs.

"Patience, Winnie," he warned me. "You need a lesson in patience."

The overwhelming feeling I felt in response to that comment was frustration, but there was a hint of intrigue as well. I was at his mercy, being teased and toyed with until he decided otherwise and I'd be lying if that knowledge didn't turn me on even more.

"Do you-" I gasped as he blew against the wet place his mouth had been moments before. "Do you want me to beg?"

"It wouldn't hurt," he grinned. "But there is something appealing about the thought of seeing how long I can keep you like this..."

That idea filled me with dread. As enticing as my helplessness in this scenario was, the thought of it lasting more than a few minutes seemed painfully cruel.

"No, please don't," I pleaded. "Please touch me, Chris. Please, please. I need it so bad."

He groaned, letting his forehead rest against my thigh for a moment before looking up to meet my eyes.

"The way you say my name when you're like this drives me crazy."

He moved his hand to flick his thumb over my clit and his name fell from my lips again as a desperate whimper. That seemed to be all he needed to hear as he quickly attached his mouth back to that sweet spot.

Instantly, my hands shot to grip his head as mine fell back against the pillows. He held down my hips that were pushing up towards him, desperate to increase the friction, but it didn't matter. I was so close already, so worked up from his previous actions, that it took no time at all for the pressure he'd built up inside me to boil over as I finally found my release.

As always, he coaxed me through it, only moving back when he was sure my orgasm had faded. By the time it was done, my chest was heaving and Chris dragged himself off the bed, giving me a moment to catch my breath as he rid himself of his jeans and boxers. I smiled at the sight, but I was in a daze. My whole body felt like jelly from the two amazing orgasms I'd just received, but that didn't stop me from the moment of clarity that hit just as he was climbing back over me.

"Wait! Condom."

Chris cursed under his breath before hopping off the bed and quickly rifling through his bag. He found one - which I knew he would as I'd reminded him several times to pack them so we wouldn’t be caught without them in a moment like this - and returned to the bed.

"Hurry," I panted. "I need you."

A quiet growl rumbled from Chris' chest as he quickly tore open the condom wrapper and put it on. I was still sensitive from our previous activities, but as soon as he was on top of me again, I was pressing up towards him. He filled me with an almost insatiable need and it seemed his patience was also thin after being so hard for so long as he slid inside me with impressive speed.

I groaned from the sensation of him filling me so quickly, but any discomfort quickly shifted into pleasure as he rocked his hips against mine. My fingers dug into his shoulders as my legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer as he quickly established a steady rhythm. As much as he wanted to take his time, his restraint was clearly waning as he kept up a vigorous pace. My over sensitive state and his purposefully angled thrusts, hitting all the right nerves with just the right pressure, had me writing beneath him as I basked in the sensation.

Chris was always rather vocal, but as his moans, grunts and whispers of filthy commentary grew louder and more unrestrained it became clear that he was also edging closer and closer to his peak. His hips snapped with more ferocity and all I could do was hold onto him tightly, giving him all the control and riding the waves of pleasure he was causing.

“I’m close,” he groaned, his voice strained as his breath hit my neck.

Unable to form words, I made a noise that I hoped would convey my agreement and his movements seemed to become even more pointed and more deliberate. With every thrust, he made sure to rub against every sensitive spot inside me and moments later, I felt my release hit me. It felt like every muscle in my body tensed as I quivered and clenched around him, a sound leaving my mouth that was so lustful and unrestrained that I could hardly believe it was coming from me. He gasped out a moan of his own from the sensation of me coming around him and quickened his pace through my orgasm until eventually he stilled, the sound of his pleasure echoing through my ears.

Once we had both recovered, Chris rolled off of me, pulling the condom off and disposing of it in the garbage can next to the bed before he settled on his back, chest heaving from exertion.

I let out a happy sigh as I curled into his side and his arm wrapped around me, pulling me close.

"That was amazing," I smiled, placing a kiss against his chest.

He chuckled, squeezing me even tighter as he answered.

"See? Patience. It makes everything better."

I nipped at the skin underneath my mouth.

"Shut up."

He leaned down to place a kiss on the top of my head and I smiled.

"I love you," he practically whispered in the darkness. "I'm so glad we get this weekend together."

"Me too," I agreed. "I love you too."

He squeezed me closer again as we laid there curled up in each other, basking in our post-orgasmic glow.

No one had ever made me feel the way that Chris did. I’d never felt as safe with anyone, I’d never felt so able to let my guard down, and the physical aspect of our relationship clearly benefited greatly from the closeness that we shared. It was an amazing feeling to know that we were so in tune with each other and that there was so much room to explore the things that made us feel good and, despite being fully satisfied for the time being, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to other things I would be interested in delving into as I drifted off to sleep.

November [part two]

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99 @mjey12

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans smut #chris evans fic #once bitten/more hearts #only for a moment

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joontier · 3 years

Text

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1; report iv

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, romance

warnings: swearing

word count: 2.5k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist] @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) | navi. | m.list

Your phone blares at exactly 6:45AM, and a memetastic image of Chohee lights up your phone screen as you’re brushing your teeth. When you swipe to answer the call, you don’t even manage to get a word in when Chohee chatters you out of your sleep-deprived soul.

“Just as practiced, I’m punctual, and you’re late.”

Garbling out a reply about how it’s still five minutes prior to your agreed time, you tap your toothbrush loudly against the sink, likewise spitting out the foam from your mouth. “Fine, just hurry because I’m starving!”

Being the gold-hearted person that she is (although that fact is not known to the public), your best friend had offered you a ride to the building where you’re scheduled to take the Korean Medical Licensure Examination today.

The moment you settle yourself on the passenger seat, she greets you with a cheery “Good morning!” - one that was too cheery this early in the morning, and all the more way too cheery for a certain Kim Chohee. The two of you share a look and you lean in for a hug. “Hey, we’ll do just fine, okay? We’ve been studying our asses for this.”

You don’t let go at once, looking up at her with a kissy face. She pushes your head backwards with a disgusted expression, keeping your face at an arm’s length. With an unattractive snort, you lean back in your seat, laughing your ass off at your poor attempt to lighten the mood.

“Seriously, _______, I know you’ve been lusting after me for years even when you’re well aware of my ‘strictly beef’ diet,” Chohee states, dusting your imaginary germs off her shoulder. Turning on her Benz’s engine, she checks her reflection on the rear-view mirror before driving off.

With both your hands occupied with the sandwiches you’d ordered from Subway, you use your pinky to connect your phone to play some Mozart via bluetooth. You try not to talk much about the test, knowing it will only cause unnecessary anxiety on both your ends.

As Chohee leans towards you, you tilt her sandwich in her direction, letting her take a bite from her sub. “Hey, what’s an abscess again?”

“Isn’t that more commonly known as boils? Built up pus within or below the surface of the skin?”

Kim Chohee chokes on her BLT.

“Pus?” she repeats, swallowing her bite with great strain. “Seriously? While I’m eating a sandwich? Couldn’t you be more subtle perhaps?”

Equally just as surprised as she was, you narrow your eyes at her. “We’ve been studying medicine for the last six years! It shouldn’t be a surprise by now...and besides, we’ve heard and see a lot worse too...Would you rather have me say purulent exudate then? And waste my precious saliva on a six-syllable word rather than the common term for a liquid form of inflamm-”

“Okay!” Chohee throws an arm up in defeat. “Sheesh _______! Don’t I deserve at least some gratitude for driving you to our exams?”

“Plus we’ve already seen a cadaver too, which was supposedly one of the peaks of our med-student lives! What’s all this hype about some viscous mass on the surface of the skin?”

Your best friend peeks at you from her peripheral vision, absolutely mortified. You love it.

“Can you please remind me how we became friends in the first place?” Chohee shakes her head and increases the volume of the player as the droplets of rain start pouring down the windshield. “Anyways – I was meaning to ask the histological meaning of it.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, recalling your notes, “well, it’s a localized collection of neutrophils and necrotic debris. Basically, it’s a suppurative inflammation which is associated with pyogenic bacteria and characterized by edema fluid admixed with neutrophils and necrotic cells. Staphylococcus aureus usually produces abscesses because it’s coagulase positive and coagulase helps the production of fibrinous material that localizes the infection.”

As soon as you finish, silence takes over the car, and suddenly, a sniffle comes from Chohee’s side. With a matching frown, you best friend looks at you with shiny eyes. “Oh _______, what would I do without you?”

With still half an hour to spare, you decide on relieving your bladder first before all the toilets get occupied later a couple of minutes before the actual exam. You take your time with it, even managing to put some effort in fixing your hair in clipping your fringe back so as not to eliminate all distractions possible during the exam.

While looking through the large panel windows on your way back from the comfort rooms, you spot a familiar face – the last person you’d want to see on such an important day. Perhaps your prayers weren’t loud enough to actually reach heaven.

There Jeon Jungkook was at the end of the hall, walking like a newly-canonized saint in all his glory. Most (if not all) of the female onlookers stare at him as he passes by, with Jungkook seemingly unbothered by their unwavering attention. You aren’t one for exaggeration, but these women look like they’re willing to worship the ground he walked on.

Your nerdy, anti-Jeon Jungkook ass quickly hides beside a nearby locker, not wanting to be ‘graced’ by his presence, just as some girl coined a few moments ago as she headed to the toilets with her friends, collectively gushing over the boy.

The popular kid turns to his right and you swore you’d never prayed harder and faster than any other time in your life. Your room assignment was just the one by the corner...and if he could just make a few more steps and head straight to the next classroom a-and...nope. It’s official. The universe loved shitting on you.

Jungkook enters room 132, the very same numbers indicating your room assignment for the licensure exam. You ball up your fists in your spot by the lockers, releasing all your pent-up frustration in the simplest and least violent way possible: a long, tedious exhale.

Gathering up all your self-control, you re-enter the classroom with an inward grimace, desperate to not have Jungkook’s eyes meet yours. He’s looking for a seat, and with all the back rows already occupied, he’s stuck with picking one from the first two rows.

He’s already stood near the seat you’ve picked and you bore holes into the back of his head with your fake telepathy, silently ordering him to pick a chair on the other side of the aisle instead.

Just as you had not wished for, Jungkook plops his huge ass backpack on the chair next to yours. You tread back to your seat as discreetly as possible, avoiding his gaze at all times as he rummages through his military backpack. What the fuck is in that thing in the first place? You won't be surprised if he manages to pull out a whole microwave inside – and yet funnily enough, he can’t seem to own a single damn pencil.

As you were minding your own businesses (hopefully it stays that way for the rest of eternity), you catch the other students discussing surgical cases last minute.

“Hey, which artery is the one for transection for an epidural hematoma?”

“Was this the kid that got hit by a fastball in the head?”

“What happened?”

“Poor boy got hit in the temporal area during a baseball tournament. Remained conscious during the rest of the day but during the same evening he gets a severe headache with vomiting and confusion. When they got to Severance he got scheduled for immediate surgery for epidural hematoma.”

“That sounds awful…”

“I’m not sure which artery it was again though…”

If that were the case...then it’d be the transection of a branch of the middle meningeal artery...but then you wouldn’t want to answer that out of the blue and get mistaken for being too snoopy…

Instead, you reach for the bottle of water by the legs of your chair, likewise hearing the same answer coming out of Jungkook’s mouth in a whisper. Huh. You raise a brow. Well, there was a major chance he knew the case since he came from Yonsei too, just as you had speculated from some of your roommates who seemed like they came from the same school after mentioning Severance Hospital.

The group continue discussing their answers when this girl, who had an obnoxiously unnatural high-pitched voice, approaches Jungkook.

“Jungkook-oppa?”

Oppa? OPPA?!

You wanted to throw up. This girl looked at least two-three years older than him. At the least. Guess Jeon was really more of a fuckboy than Chohee would ever admit. “We were just discussing something and we’re really unsure of our answers, maybe a smart oppa like you would know?”

With as much discretion as you could muster, you adjust in your seat, leaning a little bit towards their conversation as you eavesdrop like the nosy person that you are.

“The surgery was a transection of the meningeal artery,” says Jeon nonchalantly like it’s the most basic thing in the world, still scrolling through his phone. Silence ensues after that. That’s it?! He’s not even going to bother explaining-

Jungkook exhales as he puts his phone down. “Epidural hemorrhages result from a rupture of one of the meningeal arteries, as these arteries supply the dura and run between the dura and the skull. Plus you said temporal area right?” he asks, facing one of the guys.

“The artery involved is usually the middle meningeal artery - a branch of the maxillary artery, as the skull fracture is usually in the temporal area. Since the bleeding is of arterial origin, symptoms are rapid in onset even though he seemed normal for a few hours. If they didn’t bring him to the hospital that same evening, he could’ve had tentorial herniation and would have eventually died.”

As much as you hate to admit it - you’re beyond impressed. Chohee always stays true to her word, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was still a jerk for clearly cutting the line at the subway.

The girls coo over him, praising him over how cool he looked by explaining his answer. Jungkook settles back on his seat like he hadn’t just perfectly given an on-point pathological explanation for a neuro case.

The group continues their review, until they’ve come to another question they’re unsure of. “Jungkook-ssi, would you know where the rupture of a berry aneurysm of the Circle of Willis would likely produce hemorrhage?”

With only ten minutes left, you’d usually be preparing yourself mentally but this group and Jungkook’s intervention has you all ears once more. Nothing wrong with some last minute review, right?

“It’s the subdural space.”

Wow. Okay, quick and close but wrong. Impressive wit though.

You open your mouth to say something but you hesitate as it dawns on you that you really aren’t part of this group and you’re not the one being asked. Jungkook not missing a beat gets a collective ‘ooh’ from the group, who’s clearly impressed at how quickly he’s answered the question.

Meanwhile, your conscience is making you contemplate on your earlier hesitation with the voice of the angel on your right shoulder telling you it isn’t right to let the wrong answer pass just like that, especially on a day like this. The devil on your left, however, tells you otherwise. You go with the former.

Amongst their murmurs of mutual praise for Jungkook (you bet this man is rejoicing inside with all the attention he’s getting, despite looking nonchalant), you take a deep breath and say the correct answer, voice coming out louder than expected.

“Excuse me?” another ‘spectator’ says, jutting her chin towards you.

“I said,” you look up at her, “it’s actually the subarachnoid space.”

“Are you sure?” she retorts.

Seriously? Just because you’re not some fuckboy jock who smolders at all boobed humans means you can’t be sure with your answer?

“Hey! I know you!” Someone exclaims from the side, causing everyone to turn their heads toward him, “You’re the foreigner valedictorian at SNU!” Similar to their earlier praises directed towards Jungkook, the same dudes marvel at your most recent accomplishment. You give a shy smile in return, quietly thanking the stranger for the sudden confidence boost.

“Jungkook-oppa is also the valedictorian at Yonsei.”

Well, that didn’t last for long...somebody has always got to rain on your parade. You won’t allow this girl though, not today.

You purse your lips, collecting your thoughts first before explaining it to them. “Subarachnoid hemorrhages, although they are much less common than hypertensive intracerebral hemorrhages, but the former are...more often than not...resultant of a rupture of a berry aneurysm.” You pause momentarily when someone drags his seat closer to yours, “Go on please.”

“Right, um...berry aneurysms are most commonly found at the Circle of Willis, usually by the junction of the communicating artery and the cerebral artery. Chances of rupture increase with age and cause marked bleeding into the subarachnoid space and produces severe headaches.” The same dude earlier blinks at you, urging you to explain further, “uh...additional symptoms may include vomiting, pain, stiffness of the neck, and papilledema. Death may follow rapidly as well.”

A few from the people gathered around your seat clap their hands, along with compliments and offers along the lines of marriage and organ swaps.

Someone mentions seeing the proctor approach the room and the group immediately disperses, everyone rushing back to their seats as quickly as possible. A middle-aged man enters, tells everyone to bring out their pencils and place their stuff by the platform, then momentarily leaves for the restroom.

Jungkook fishes through his bag, turning each pocket inside and out over and over again. There’s no way this kid actually-- “Shit, where did that pencil go?” he murmurs, going through his bag once more. Looking away, you bite your lip to stop yourself from snickering. Jeon Jungkook is definitely on a different level.

As expected, your entertaining seatmate calls you and asks for a pencil. With a deceivingly enthusiastic nod, you retrieve a pencil from your case just beside your chair. Your life after meeting Jungkook at the subway had finally led to this moment. He clears his throat and you figure it’s signaling the coming of another obnoxious comment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, this wasn’t meant for you,” you look at him with the most apologetic look you can muster. Then you look at him, down then up, just as he had done back in the library, you smile widely before winking at him, making him hand your extra pencil over to the guy sat next to him, “Thanks, babe.”

Jungkook scowls hard and you rejoice inside your head, making sure that your face doesn’t register the slightest bit of jest. His scowl however, does not last for long. “Hmm, you’re the girl from the library, right? Smart and feisty...maybe you are my type after all,” he murmurs, tongue poking his cheek. You scoff loudly, scrunching your face in disgust. “No thank you.”

“Oppa,” the girl’s shrill voice calls him one more time and you face forward to freely roll your eyes. If you aren’t mistaken, there’s even a hint of mild annoyance on Jungkook’s features. “Don’t mind her, oppa. You can have my extra pencil instead.” She tsks. “Some people just don’t know when to quit.”

At least she got something right this morning: you don’t know when to quit.

#jungkook x reader #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #bts au #bts fic #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #doctors au #bts series #jeon jungkook

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writingchalamet · 4 years

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In The Hills

An Upperclassman finds himself intrigued by a lower-class seamstress. Their worlds collide when they literally bump into each other at a May Day parade.

A/N: I spent 15+ hours writing this yesterday only for it to be deleted so it probably doesn’t have the same spark as when I first wrote it which really bums me out. Also thinking of making this a multi-chapter story so let me know if you want a part 2 :)

The sun beamed down on the grassy hills, lighting up every fleck of grass in its path. The wild flowers growing in the meadow bursting with vibrant colours, pink, purple, blue and whites. The flowers growing being the first real welcoming of spring. The temperature slowly rising to a comfortable level, unlike the winter just gone. It was May Day, a day for celebrating the welcoming of Spring, towns everywhere gathered together to celebrate the good weather and traditionally danced to increase fertility.

Timothée Chalamet atop his horse was riding through the village on his way to his parents estate. It was along the dirt road that he heard the distant bustle of music and laughter. Curiosity only rising, he turned his horses tracks grasping the reins and tugging him in the direction of the sound. He rode uphill until he came across a large wooden pole erected from the ground, pieces of colourful ribbons hanging from the top and into the hands of the young ladies of the village. The men playing instruments and the girls, dressed in white danced in a circle around the May Pole. He stared for a moment then caught sight of a girl, her hair cascaded down her back in curls, her smile was bright, laughing as she clutched hands with the other girls jumping around. She was beautiful.

Feeling intrigued he hopped down from his horse, allowing her to roam around. And strolled over to stand with the men, clapping and singing along. Not long after an older village lady shouted out for the boys to join the dance. Timothée stepped forwards joining the group in there circle, stood holding hands with two young women, both giggling at the likes of the handsome man. He spotted her across the circle, a small pit of envy growing in his stomach as he saw her holding hands with two other men. The song began again and the group began to move in circles, occasionally spinning and raising their arms. The circle broke and couples began pairing off to, performing a hand touch dance, before spinning and switching partners. The songs pace sped up as did the dancing. You could hear the breathlessness from each person as they passed.

Timothée not completely concentrated on what he was doing took a step backwards, bumping into another dancer, rather vigorously sending her to the ground. It was then that he heard her laugh for the first time, sounding like bells in his ears. He vastly lunged forwards offering his hands out to her. It was then that she turned her head, and looked up to meet his gaze. It was the girl he had been somewhat fixated on. She took his hands graciously still laughing, and he pulled her into a standing position.

“Miss are you alright, are you hurt?” The secure feeling of his hands on her elbows making her feel more at ease. “I’m very well sir, thank you, and I apologise” bowing her head into a submissive nod. He lets out a sigh of relief, “nonsense, It is I that is at fault, I stepped to forcefully and bumped into you” His eyes were full of guilt realising he could have really hurt her. “May I ask your name miss?” hopefulness rang in his voice.

“Of course sir, Y/n, Y/n L/n” He let the name sit in his head for a moment, his mind reeling over and over. Beautiful, he thought. He offered his arm out to her which she took cordially. They began to walk away from the group, the buzz of the music and laughter fading as they got further away. She looked up at him almost as if she recognised him from somewhere. “And what might your name be sir” she spoke with hint of curiousness, trying to piece together where she might recognise the gentleman from. she was sure she had seen him pass through the village on his horse before, but he never usually stops to engage with anyone.

“Timothée Chalamet, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance” He took one of her hands in his, raising it to his lips. Although she wore a sudden blush across her cheeks, they soon went pale again at the realisation of who he was. “Chalamet, as in Lord Chalamet’s son?” Her voice was muted the shock coursing through her system. She had been seen tantalising with the Lords son. “Yes Lord Chalamet is my father however I do not live on the estate, I wish to lead my own life, Do you know the cottage at the far end of the village, on top of the hill?” She nodded in response “That’s my house” she let out a short breath, the shock still in her system.

“Well I bet your family would not approve of you talking to the likes of a girl like me” She muttered with her head hung low. A soft hand was placed delicately under her chin to raise it back to meet his eyes. It was then she felt her body melt away, his orbs swirled a pale green colour with hazel flecks towards the centre. She was gone. “I do not care for my families title, nor their opinions or their ignorance. I’m a man that simply wishes to exist, I am unbothered by the socialist way of life, and all the high society has provided for me is a name. Everything else I have done I’ve worked for myself, without the help of my fathers money. I will be no part in their charade.” He spoke bluntly but with passion. She just let out a short breath. It seemed they had gotten closer while he was talking, she could practically feel his breath on her skin.

Politely taking a step backwards a simple “I see” fell from her lips confirming her understanding to him. She took another step backwards pulling away from him completely, brushing off her dress, and fixing the loose curls that had stuck to her damped skin from the dancing. He smiled as he watched her, taking note of her little mannerisms. “I would love to have you over for tea, do you have the time tomorrow afternoon?” She stood there dumfounded by his bold question, why would he want to see her again.

“I do yes, I would first have to ensure that my mother will be home to take care of my sisters of course, but..” Her sentence trailed off, her head still reeling at the question. “Where can I find you?” He queried. This part she wasn’t looking forwards to, admitting the poverty her family came from. “Do you know Mill Lane?” he nodded encouraging her to continue. “Mine is the cobble house with a large wagon in the front yard.” She smiled at him “Oh yes I believed I’ve passed it before, is the wagon your fathers?” he asked plainly, genuinely intrigued to know more about her.

“Yes he’s a costermonger, he trades potatoes from the local farm in the surrounding towns” For the first time she spoke confidently, proud of her family, which was a lot more than he could be of his. “Wonderful, and your mother, you mentioned you have sisters?” stepping closer again showing her his interest.

“Myself and my mother are seamstresses, we work at the Hepsketh dress shop, and yes I have two younger sisters, Maeve and Eleanor who I take care of while my parents are working. I also have an older sister she’s away working as a housemaid for the Lord of Buckinghamshire.” She spoke more clearly this time, detailing her love for her family in her tone.

“Well I must come and introduce myself tomorrow, before I take you to tea” he flirted, eyes boring into hers. He couldn’t help himself, he had somehow become infatuated with this girl within the ten minutes they had been talking. She shook her head laughing a little at his boldness. She looked back up the hill and noticed how far away they had strayed from the group.

“I apologise for leaving so soon, but I must be going Sir, I left my sisters up there with my friends and they’ll be wondering where I’ve gotten to” He caught her hand once more before she turned away completely. “It was a pleasure meeting you, miss L/n, I look forwards to seeing you again” he raised her hand once again leaving a light kiss on her knuckles. She soon felt the tingle shoot through her at the touch. “It was lovely meeting you Mr Chalamet, I’ll see you on the morrow.” She spoke softly matching his tone, before turning away and running back up the hill to her friends.

He stood and observed for a moment as she reached her friends, hearing the faint squeals and giggles emitted from their mouths. Her friends carefully brushed away hairs that had blown in her face and fixed her dress, they all turned to face him, another set of squeaks coming from the girls. He saw two young girls running towards her, she fell to her knees and embraced each girl in her arms. A look of love upon her face, she rose, taking the girls hands and began dancing once again. He was in awe of her. He found his horse again jumping on, tugging the reins in the downwards direction back to the dirt road. His head turning once more to catch a glimpse of her before she was completely out of sight. He sighed as she went out of view and followed back to the road leading to his families estate.

The noise was almost constant in your house. The loud cheerful buzzed through the walls of the small house. Although you didn’t come from much you came from love and a hardworking family. Each member doing all they can to ensure the families stability. You wandered into the kitchenet area where your mother was preparing a lunch. She didn’t quite believe you when you had told her you met a fine gentleman yesterday. She was a kind woman but was never very trusting of the higher class, they only wished to humiliate and belittle us, in her mind.

You had dressed this morning in the nicest dress you owned. Blue with white frilly details along the neckline and bust, It accentuated your femininity, you although had rolled up the sleeves, which your mother was always smacking your wrist for, to make it easier to work in. You had wished just once though that you would be fortunate enough in this lifetime to wear a dress and grand as the ones you helped sew at the shop. Mrs Hepsketh was one of the most acknowledged dress makers in the county, often getting orders from Lady’s and socialites. You just helped sew them together.

A roar of laughter and screams emitted from the front garden where your two sisters had been playing, chasing and hitting each other with sticks. You walked out to stand in the doorway, keeping an eye on them, they had always been quite boisterous, a trait they must have picked up from your father. Your older sister and yourself were always quite contented with books and sewing, something that the girls had always turned their nose up to.

“who’s that! Look at the carriage!” “I think he’s coming to our house!” their words jumbled together stumbling over one another only adding to the chaos. He’s coming. A sudden burst of nervousness and excitement washed over you. Running back into the house you fixed your hair and flattened your dress. “He’s here mama, he’s on his way, how do I look” With frantic eyes you turned to your mother who still seemed completely un-phased. “Lovely” She said without looking up from her dough and rolling pin. You let out a puff of air, taking a seat on the sofa and pulling out a book, as if to look unfathomed by his arrival.

“Mama there’s a man here to see y/n!” - “mama his name is Timothée he wants to take y/a to tea, mama look!” The girls’ voices once again jumping over one another, making it hard to clearly hear what they were saying. Into the room steps Timothée with a garland of flowers in her hands, a timorous smile on his face. He looked towards you lifting the flowers slightly. Your mother finally looked up from her dough, flour all over her apron, with a shocked expression on her face. “Oh my dear boy, do come in, what was your name again?” moving around the small table stepping towards him, bowing her head in acquaintance.

“Timothée, Mam, Timothée Chalamet” It was at that moment that your mothers eyes practically gouged out of her head, her jaw almost hitting the ground. “My Lord” She bows her head again dropping into an awkward curtsey, Timothée took your mothers hand raising her from her position. “Please, non of that is necessary, and please call me Timothée, I’ve never been fond of such formalities.” He smiled at your mother softly “Ti-Timothée alright, can I get you some tea my boy” you sensed your mothers nerves dropping the more she spoke to him.

“No I’m quite alright thank you, I was hoping to take Y/n out to tea, if it didn’t bother you” The timidity reflected in his voice, unsure of what her answer would be. “Of course, she’s right over there” directing his attention fully to you. He stepped towards you nervously. Offering you the flowers still in your seated position. “These are for you” handing over the flowers, “Thank you they’re beautiful” inspecting them closely admiring the beautiful array of colours. “not as beautiful as you miss L/n” he spoke quietly, almost afraid he’s offed someone. “awww” erupted from both your sisters mouths. You stood up and sent them a short glare warning them to stop. “Maeve would you put these in water for me please” directing your words to the elder of the girls. You handed the flowers over to the girl, walking over towards the door taking your shawl and wrapping it around your shoulders.

You kissed your mother on the cheek but didn’t have time to stop the assault Eleanor was making towards Timothée. Tugging at his trouser leg looking up at him with wild eyes “Are you going to marry my sister?” You blushed shooing her away from him “I apologise-” you were interrupted, “maybe if she’d have me” Your eyes widened in shock, your younger sisters giggling and your mother looking heart-warmed. He held out his arm for you again beckoning for you to take it. You looped your arm though his, saying a final ‘goodbye’ to your family before exiting. You look up to Timothée the sunlight bouncing off his skin, making him look more undeniably handsome. There sat at the front of your house, a peculiar yellow coloured, two person carriage.

You noticed his horse from yesterday, her hairs looking even more ginger in the light. He held out a hand for you and aided you stepping into the coach. He followed pursuit, pulling the reins into his hands giving them a snap, encouraging the horse to move. You looked back at your humble house again, seeing your mother and sisters in the doorway, your sisters still shouting their goodbyes as you drove away.

The yellow carriage followed the road, up hill to the south of the village where, Timothée’s cottage was. He charmed you the entire journey there, his constant flattery was something you’d have to get used to. You soon pulled up to the cottage, colourful trellis travelling up each side of the house, splashing the walls in colourful flowers. The carriage came to a holt. Timothée jumping down and walking to your side to help you down. Soon two members of staff came out un latching the horse from the carriage and pulling them both away following down the side of the house, which you can only imagine where the stable is kept.

“Your house is beautiful sir” looking up at the larger house in awe. The light stone walls accented beautifully with the flowers travelling up the house. “Thank you, lets go in, I’ll have Marian prepare some tea” taking his arm again you followed him into the house. Stepping inside a lounge area, paintings hung on the walls, a hand carved clock sat atop the fireplace mantle. The decoration of the room felt quite romantic. Oak furnishings filled the room. “ Please take a seat, I’ll go fetch Marian” he left the room contently, eyes lingering on you a little longer. Your own eyes fell on a painting hung on the wall. A portrait of Timothée, you wandered over, reaching your hand up, gently tracing over the delicate brush strokes. It was beautiful, they accented the hazel flicks in his eyes and even managed to capture his half smirk perfectly.

You stepped back abruptly hearing footsteps re-enter the room. “Oh that old thing, my father had that done for me, a sort of ‘gift’ for me leaving the families fortune” He scoffed and nodded his head in the direction of the chairs sitting in the room. You followed his gaze and seated yourself in one of the armchairs.

“How do you take your tea mam?” You heard pleasantly from the woman stood next to you holding a tea tray. “lemon or sugar?” she insisted placing the tray down on the table in front of you. “please call me y/n, and no thank you I take it plain. Thank you” You smiled at the woman assuming it was Marian that Timothée mentioned earlier. She gracefully poured two cups and handed the china over to you. You took it thanking her again with a subtle nod.

“You are excused Marian, Thank you” Timothée utters smiling at the older woman. You took a sip and diverted your eyes back to him. “How do you like it?” he smiled genuinely happy to be in your company. “It’s lovely thank you, Sir” - “Please just call me Timothée.” you nodded your head again submitting to his request.

“Do you not feel lonesome living here all alone” The words rushed out of your mouth afraid of causing offence. “I’m never truly alone, I have Marian and my books keep me company just fine” he laughed easing your nerves. “What books do you like to read, I’m reading Shakespeare to my sisters at the moment, trying to teach them how to read” Your eyes lit up at the mutual love for reading. “Well I do love Shakespeare, Washington Irving has always been a favourite of mine.” He smiled looking towards you for your approval.

“what’s your favourite work of Shakespeare?” he questioned you, intrigued to know more. “It has always been sonnet 116. It’s just so emotional.” you carried on reciting the sonnet. “Let me not to the marriage of true minds, Admit impediments. Love is not love, Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no; it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests, and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks, Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.” You spoke clearly and passionately. The words seemed to roll off your tongue with ease. You noticed him staring at you with a soft expression.

“That was beautiful.” he responded, he couldn’t quite find the words to express how he felt. “You are beautiful” the words fell from his lips before he could stop them. A blush crept up to your cheeks, feeling suddenly very hot, you rose to your feet and walked to stand by the window. You looked out at the view. You could everything from up here. The hills, the village and distantly the trees lining his families estate.

He stood up and walked towards you taking your hand in his. “forgive me if I have overstepped, I just can’t help but speak my mind” You blushed again, this time grazing your fingers over his knuckles, in reassurance. “No forgive me sir, no one has ever called me beautiful before, I’m just unsure of how to respond, to ones remarks” You let out a breathy laugh. “I refuse to believe no one has ever called you beautiful before, what about your mother?” He gushed over you “No she’s a woman of few words” You smiled dropping your head to look at your feet. There his hand slid under your chin again listing it to meet his eyeline.

“Well you are beautiful, thank you for coming, I wasn’t sure you’d still want to attend” he changed the subject to avoid your disagreement with his comments. “Thank you for inviting me, my mother didn’t believe me when I said a young man was coming to take me to tea, It wasn’t until you walked through the door that she realised I wasn’t just fantasising” He smiles in return laughing along with you at the thought.

“Well I’ll have to come and visit you more regularly so she doesn’t forget me” he smirked, looking much alike with the painting that stood behind him. You giggled shaking your head. “You want to see me again?” you quizzed him, trying to find a logical explanation as to why. “Of course, do you not wish to see me” He replies slightly offended.

“Yes of course, It’s just that I know your mother has you lined up to marry several Ladies in the county, and I do not wish to be a distraction, they would not approve of your flirtations towards me.” glancing out the window staring down at the tree barrier of his parents manor house, from across the village.

“I have said before, I do not care for my families title nor any of the women they may wish me to marry. That is why I moved away from the estate, I want them to see that I am capable of making my own decisions. They bare too much ignorance towards anyone of a lower class, their shallow mindedness has led to them losing a son. I do not need their approval of anything, and you are far better and kinder and more beautiful than any socialite they could ever find.” He finished his rant with a puff of air. “I apologise for going off like that, they just anger me that is all” dropping his head slightly, not wanting to meet your eyeline in case of judgement.

“I have never met anyone more passionate than you Timothée.” His head turned slightly giving you that one sided smile. You look towards the clock and notice the time. “Oh my, I am sorry but I must be going father will be expecting me” Pulling away walking to the back of the door where Marian had hung up your shawl. “Of course I’ll get Johnson to take you home at once, I won’t be a moment” He stepped out of the room before you could protest. You took one last look at the room soaking everything in one last time before you left. You didn’t know if you really would be able to see him again.

“He is preparing the carriage now, miss L/n” He strides towards you again taking your hands in his “I am so pleased you came today” his hands were clammy and notably warmer than your icy ones. “Thank you for the invitation Mr Chalamet” He loved hearing the way his name rolled off your tongue. You heard the carriage outside and followed Timothée out towards it. He once again offered his hand in his gentleman like manor and helped you step into the carriage.

Just as the horse started pulling away you heard him shout “When can I see you again?” smiling his hand shading his eyes from the sun. “You know where to find me Sir, Goodbye!” You hollered back to him giving him a final wave. You sat back in the carriage and let out a relaxed breath, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin. You looked over at the view of the village, as the cart slowly trucked its way downhill. You felt a sense of comfort, you had never before clicked with someone, or had someone speak to you with as much passion and drive as Timothée had expressed. Something about him just felt right.

#timothee #timothée chalamet icons #timothee fanfic #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothée x reader #timothée x you #timothee x you #fanfic #timothée fanfic #fanfiction #imagines #timothée chalamet imagines #timothée #timothée chalamet #little women #imagine #timothée imagines #timothee imagine

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heat0death0of0the0universe · 4 years

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i gotta talk about Narrative Telephone

I. Fucking. Love. It.

when my extreme dislike of second-hand embarrassment takes a loud backseat i can fin so much that i love about it.

but what i love most isn't the humor. or even the continued critical role content. no, i love the allegory and the metaphor of the whole concept.

all my life i loved the concept of watching time move forward. seeing evolution, hearing language change, watching cultures rise and fall. but what i dont like is time and the fact that im along for the ride. id rather watch evolution, not be step 48801 of a process with no end. and sadly most media and general public doesn't like watching time change. no one wants too see how the English language evolves with a rise in Spanish speaking folks and pop culture creating new idioms and words. everyone would much rather watch something with the same animals with the same people walking the same cities speaking the same language, albeit maybe with a few more neon lights and holograms to make you feel like its in some vague ~future~. but narrative telephone gives me the change i like to see. i can finally feel like im watching a story going through the times and changes of a culture.

im gonna need to explain a little more. what better way than to show off all the current episodes.

episode one is simple, pumat and the big bad wolf. the sorry starts with pumat on a stroll through the woods. he finds a talking wolf and they fight. the story ends with the pumat eating a nice mushroom and wolf stew. but the changes to the story are what get to me. i love ashley, trust me i really do. but in this context, she’s basically the dark ages. everything crumbles and the story follows in the crash. this point is when the more brothers grimm tales and nonsense folklore are added in. people dont like the night, so the seen changes to match. suddenly the wolf not only speaks, but has a beak! the fighting through being somewhat vague in the original story now is lost to time and is none existent. taliesin builds off it, changing it ever so slightly from a garbled to a more of a warning story. a story that reflects a change in a cultures thoughts on the woods. when everything was all writings and giant building the woods where just a place to rule over and harvest, but after the fall now its returned to the unexplored. the place of fey and monsters that should never be explored at night. marisha adds winter and gives it just the smallest bit of added context. a man in the woods during night before might have been seen as mad or crazy, but a man scrounging for some mushrooms in a dead forest in winter isnt tempting fate, he’s struggling to live. a shift in view also makes it so that the beaked magic wolf is just as weakened by the winter, and is easily turned away by just a voice. sam is..something. if ashley is the dark ages than id say sam is like a renaissance. specifically a very drunk renaissance. the kingdom was risen and is filled with hubris and pride.its gained a very “man falls for his hubris” greek vibe to it. pumat has gone from scavenging to walking unbothered by cold dead winter. the kingdom has lost its enjoyment of strange creatures, monsters are still around in legend, but most have been replaced with magical people, with a clear rise in “person in an animals skin” tropes. the original fight has been mostly lost, now the story is that of a magic hunter who eyes the mushrooms taken by pumat and gives a chuckle and permission to continue exploring the woods unimpeded. pumat eats just the mushrooms, which now have gained the lupine taste, and the vague description of “he became something more” giving the idea of some sort of curse for his nature. Laura has added back the wolfs anger, but removed the suspicion of pumat. the curse is still in the end of the story though. this could be a change into more of a forbidden fruit trope. because pumat still trusted strange mushrooms in a dead forest with a magic guardian, he paid the price. travis is a sort of close to modernization of the story. its the point in time when its nonsensical nature and magic was viewed as weird and convoluted. similar to when we look at older myths with long intricate plans and think “nice story, but poor pacing”. liam goes for the “granddad telling stories by the fire” vibe. the tale has died down and is being co-opted for new use. now the rather dark tale has turned into more of a children's storybook with messages like not to trust strangers and to not do drugs being tagged on.

ep. 2: jesters ability to say 1000 words a second. pickadors plume is a story in a story. a story about gaining a treasure through a complex and detailed series of events with lots of loaded lore about the world with no clear description of what the treasure truly is. liam is the first few generations. the generation close enough to the original to try and remember, but not enough to keep every detail. the best example is of the ending, where the treasure should be. humans love rewards, so a story with a vague reward isnt enough for people. in liams generation transition to the griffon, travel, and fruit specifically being the treasure begins to lay its foundations. since this is already so long i will also mention that the transition from stone shaped like a heart ---to----> stone shaped like a hut could be an example of a changing dialect and language. sam, travis, and marisha are clear evidence of a shift in culture. jesters complete backstory wasnt introduced till now. and in it comes the cultures want to explain this event. humans love simplifying, but we also love to describe things. if we want to, we will add words just as much as we remove them. the dialect changes just as much. the new word of “schtupping." has either replaced or become a synonym of the word fucking, the name of the plum as even changed too. the treasure has gone from “lost to time” to “there is treasure, i just wont name it”. but fret not, for the mystery aspect is still in the story. for now everything will disappear like it never happened, or did it? though travis specifically specifies that you keep the treasure. humans love rewards, it was gonna come back eventually. matt is the sorta an enlightening moment in the society. at the very least its the point in time where people who know geography and history say “wait, that layout doesnt make any sense”. taelisan and ashley are the beginning of the end. the slow fall into the dark ages. the story becomes vague and small. slowly becoming more of a statement and less of a story. the society is forgetting large chunks and its bleeding out into other legends. there maybe a sort of thanksgiving/ christmas sort of event spawned from or because of the myth, but the story itself isnt going to live every far (hence why its ending in a dark age and not somewhen else)

Ep. 3: boy do humans enjoy rich’s, love, and drama. sam’s story comes from a society that warns against wanting what you wish for without expecting some strings attached and features a evil ruler to boot, just so they can date the legend. the story of a delivery boy who invents a pair of glasses to see through objects and uses them to win rewards and gives them all to a rich woman that only loves him for the money, and really loves the prince. matt changes the story so the two are already in love. but also changed it so that it was the greed of the prince and the wife that lead to the heartbreak rather than the delivery boys naivety. travis changes delivery boy from a clever inventor to just already owning the glasses. both matt and travis with there respective fictional cultures are showing how humans like to remember the stuff they liked in a story, so when they forget when something specifically came in, they just fill in the blank and assume its always been there. travis specificaly begins the stories slow march to a less heartbreaking story by adding a joke to help give the couple a more flushed out relationship. this is also the shift in cultural perspective. the antagonist began his life as a evil prince, but now is simply a rotten neighbor. this could mean the myth was co-opted to fit a better role, possibly after the removal of monarchy or just of a specific bloodline.the rich wife becomes just the wife, no money involved. this is also the beginning of what a full fledged re-write of the story. now the delivery man has gone from giving up to still being in love with the wife and now even standing up for himself. (possibly a mix of when the story was of a prince and used to promote the common folk to rise up against the kings, leading to the theory of a removal of the crown). ashely...oh ashely. this moment in history atleast solidifies the love between them, and even brings back delivery husbands inventor skills. liam is the slow clawing climb back up out of the collapse. he’s still very much in the collapse of the kingdom. but aleast its just before when begin to solidify into the new meta of the era. laura and taelisin’s era is a complete re-write after the collapse of the society. the focus has moved to more of a folk-hero style legend about rising above through theft and cheating (could mean that after the collapse the culture around theft changed from crime to fighting to survive. the antagonist has really changed from being the bad guy to just in the love triangle. the society seems to agree with every polyamourous person when we all say “this how drama triangle could have been avoided if you guys all just got together”. marisha’s only real change a more modernization from “specticals” to “goggles” and that the culture either wants to make half-orcs feel more inclusive or just really dont like goliaths and changed it.

ep. 4: deargodfinallyigottheneedtowritethisoutofmysystemsoletsspeedrunthisshit. liams story is an analogy for the horrors, pointlessness, and sacrifics of war. but over time the story shifts from a “we did this to ourselves” narrative to a “an outside force did this to use”. this shifts the goal from a need for peace to a need to protect everyone for the sake of the many. ill write more later but dear god i my hand might fall off soon

#cr #critical role #narrative telephone #telephone

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poptod · 4 years

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Who The Stars Belong To (Joe Mazzello x Reader)

Description: You’re an angel. Congratulations! Now you’re a fallen angel and you crash land through the roof of a building and right into a man’s apartment.

Prompt: Innocent Notes: I don’t usually do fics with real people. I wrote this one a very long time ago and never finished it, but it’s been a bit since I’ve posted (I’m working on something) and this was the best of my unfinished fics :) I mixed a LOT of religions into this. I hope I don’t offend anyone - I myself am not highly religious, but some of my beliefs are in here. Gender neutral. Word Count: 8.7k

I am a storm. I am an oncoming battle, the thunders of a thousand wars, of a million bloodshed plains. I am the breeze of summer and the wisps of winter frost. I am a god beholden to you but nothing to your universe. And in the dead of night, I am your savior.

All you knew was life in the heavens. Being God’s messenger had its perks and all that, like getting to know a lot of the higher archangels, but you would never know what the earth held. Stories were your staple, and other than God’s word, it was what you existed on.

Before you knew it you were hurtling down to earth a hundred miles an hour, watching your home in the stars disappear from view as your eyes became human. The light of God faded away, the guidance disappeared, and you could feel your halo burn into the sky, dissipating into the darkness. Though panic pulsed through you, fresh blood appearing through once empty veins, your expression was calm. As you pounded an imprint through the clouds as you fell through them your wings began to burn, and you became a falling star, a child’s wish to never be granted.

Once your back hit the hardness of ground, you blacked out.

Drearily you opened your eyes, feeling for the first time something you knew to be pain. It floated all throughout your body, caressing you gently and holding you in a grip so unfamiliar. Your throat burned, eyes tired, and your back ached. Shoulders tense and knees stiff you sat up, letting your vision fully develop.

White walls, firm and rigid in their position, surrounded you. To your right was a glass wall, letting you see the massive buildings outside. They seemed to stretch to the sky, clouds drifting lazily by. Gulping you grasped at the sheets around you, clenching with sore fingers at the roughness they had. To your left was a closed door and an open door, one leading to something that just had to be what you’d been told was a bathroom, and the other one with jackets hanging off it.

You tried standing up, feeling bile fill your mouth at the feeling. Was that normal? No matter - you stood, watching as the world began to spin.

That’s funny, you thought to yourself, before promptly blacking out with a nice, thick thud on the floor.

Upon waking up again, the light above you was dimmer than before, and looking to your right, night encompassed the sky. Blinking slowly you turned your head back to the ceiling, trying to get yourself to at least sit up. You were back in bed, you noticed, with white and blue sheets and blankets once more surrounding you. Grasping at the sheets you pulled yourself up, pulling your legs closer to you from their straight position.

From outside the closed door to your left came noise, a banging of pots and a curse. You raised your eyebrows, having never heard them before, but knowing them nonetheless. It was required information, as an angel. Which you guessed you were banned from being for a little while.

What you might’ve done wrong filled your head, but no matter how far back you went you couldn’t think of a thing. You’d done everything asked of you. Every single thing, even if you thought it to be morally wrong, even if you wondered why you had been chosen for the job, you did it. No questions. No hesitation.

Watching yourself in the mirror across from the bed, you tilted your head curiously to the left. You weren’t supposed to look like that. You were supposed to be… angelic. Strong. A storm, with the power of thunder and the will of hail. That was your form. Not this, with its’ flimsy hair, odd eyes, and dull skin.

Another curse from the other side of the door. You turned, watching as the handle jiggled. For a moment you remained unbothered, before very quickly realizing if this was a menacing force you didn’t have your angelic powers. Not to your knowledge in the least, and testing them out wasn’t really an option. If you used them for anything but official use then they would be taken away.

The door opened, and a man holding a plate came in, a concentrated look on his face, auburn hair falling over his face. He looked the least menacing thing you’d ever seen, and your shoulders relaxed. As the door shut behind him he looked up, smiling awkwardly as he walked forward, setting the plate on the small table beside the bed. You looked at him expectantly, still confused in all essence of the word.

He seemed just as confused, glancing to the side, unable to keep your eye for more than two seconds.

“You’re, uh. You should eat,” he finally said, gesturing with his head towards the plate on the bedside table.

You didn’t need to eat, right? Whatever eating really was it looked awful. Well, you knew what eating was. Sustenance to keep humans going, meant to distract them so they didn’t reach their full potential. Too much time spent doing stuff other than getting food, or getting means for food, would’ve been disastrous.

You must’ve been too quiet for too long as he kept going.

“I made pasta. I’m not great with food, but it’s not awful, I promise,” he chuckled, shifting his weight in his anxiousness. You kept staring. He cleared his throat. “Maybe you could tell me what happened to you?”

“What?” You asked, further confused.

“You know,” he said, clearly excited that you could talk, “why you fell through my roof.”

“What?”

He now looked exasperated that you only knew one word.

“You fell through my roof. I tried to take you to a hospital but you begged me not to. Said you’d, uh, ‘put the fear of god into me,’ if I did. Neat trick you did with your eyes, too,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. He seemed to be more relaxed, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“… details?” You asked further. He paused.

He’d just been home after a late night trip to the store after realizing he was completely out of Windex when you arrived. First was a whistling sound, and he looked up, wondering curiously what it could be. His first thought was that New York was under attack, but quickly proven wrong, you crashed through the roof of his apartment, going through the one empty floor above him, landing in his living room.

Staring at your crumpled form, surrounded by broken wood, dust, and concrete, his mouth fell open, dropping the two bottles of Windex in his hand. The most astonishing part was the fact that you were moving. That, and the giant cuts running down your back, bleeding openly and dripping all over his carpet. The one other surprising thing was the fact that you were entirely naked.

Stumbling only for a moment, he dropped to your side, helping you stand.

“Holy shit, okay, uh,” he breathed out, “what happened to you?”

“Arrghhhh,” you slurred meaninglessly.

“Never mind. Let’s get to a hospital, fast,” he said, and before he could even ask his brain to make the movement for a step forward, your hand was grasping the collar of his shirt, bundling the material in a tight fist, pulling him towards your face.

“I will tear your body apart till nothing remains but your soul and you will remember why you fear God,” you said, and in the moment he heard your voice in double, watching as your eyes rolled up into your head, the red veins glowing against stark white.

“Okay,” he replied immediately, almost dropping you.

He omitted many of these details when reporting this to you, not wanting you to believe him insane.

“You crashed through my roof, and I tried to take you to the hospital but you, uh, obviously said no, and after that you blacked out, so I put you to bed. Hoped you would wake up,” was what he said.

“Of course I did,” you said, miffed, turning to face your reflection once again. It looked… wrong. Where were your horns?

“Not… not of course. That fall tends to kill people,” he laughed nervously.

You swallowed, feeling your saliva burn down your throat. Pushing the sheets off of you you tried to stand once more, watching as the world began to swing into a dance once more. The man stood with a ‘woah there,’ holding his hand over your torso in case you fell. With lazy eyelids your head fell onto his shoulder, not quite fainting but halfway there.

“You’re pretty adamant about this whole standing thing, huh?” He said with a grunt, trying to help you stand on your own.

“I am stronger than the bones your king breaks,” you mumbled.

“I don’t - okay, you’re not hungry, so let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, heaving you across the room and into the bathroom.

The lights blared painfully against the mirror, reflecting directly into your eyes. You moaned, hiding your eyes behind eyelids and his shoulder. Behind you water rushed, falling into the silver and white tub. He sat you down on the toilet, making sure you would stay there, before leaving, promising he’d be right back.

You leaned against a nearby wall, eyelids drooping over burning eyes as you waited for him to return. The water continued rushing, filling the room in a warm haze. You watched as the mirror fogged.

With a creak the door opened, and he came through with a tight smile, putting a towel and a fresh set of clothes on the counter.

“I didn’t want to wash you or anything while you were out. Would’ve been a bit weird,” he mumbled, shutting the door behind him, sticking his hand in the water to test it after.

“Where’d I get these clothes?” You asked in a whisper, and he barely heard you over the water.

“Oh, uh, they’re mine. Yours were ruined.”

“I had clothes?”

“… Yes?”

“Lying is a sin punishable by an eternity of hellfire,” you muttered.

“Okay you didn’t have clothes. Happy? I was just trying to spare you the embarrassment,” he snapped, turning off the water. He glanced at you and in a second, his anger fell from him. “Let’s get you in.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling the shirt off your torso and throwing it into a corner of the bathroom. After that he tapped your hips, looking up at you expectantly. You cocked your head to the side, your brow furrowed.

“Lift,” he said, his face reddening with blood. Your nose twitched and, bracing yourself against the lid of the toilet, you lifted your hips. Off came two sets of pants, which confused you greatly.

“Why was I wearing two pants?” You asked, grasping his shoulders tightly as he made you stand, your legs failing you almost entirely.

“That was underwear,” he explained patiently, setting you gently in the warm water. You curled up, pressing your knees to your chest, feeling your rough skin brush against you uncomfortably. With bright eyes you stared up at him, watching him grab various bottles from the counter.

With a cup he poured water over your head, and a pleasant feeling washed over you as it ran down your back and over your eyes. He pressed two fingers to your forehead, tilting your head slightly so it wouldn’t fall into your eyes. He did this two more times, fully soaking your head before popping open a bottle. Out of it poured a white mixture, one he rubbed up against his hands before reaching for you.

You cringed backwards, baselessly fearing what it could’ve been. He paused, drawing backwards and explaining himself.

“It’s to wash your hair,” he said, and as you let him rub it into your scalp, you heard him whisper to himself, “what happened to you?”

You didn’t answer, assuming he didn’t really want an answer, and simply enjoying the pleasure his hands brought. As he dug deeper into your hair you keened upwards into it, letting your eyes close. He let his hands run the full length of your hair once, then twice, before rinsing his hands and pouring water over you to rinse the shampoo from you.

“Enjoying yourself?” He teased as he opened up another bottle. You waited as he turned the bottle upside down, pouring it now over your shoulders. From its cold temperature you shrunk, still letting him do what he thought he needed to do.

He rubbed the white soap into your skin, over your shoulders and neck, up into your cheeks. That was the most enjoyable part - letting him cup your jaw, one hand on either side as his thumbs rubbed your cheeks. Eventually he had to stop, gently washing your nose and forehead.

The silence clearly made him uncomfortable you noted as he washed the dirt off your arms. You, however, didn’t mind it in the slightest.

“Just one more,” he said, holding up the last bottle. You nodded.

This time, unlike the first time, he combed it through your hair. Relaxing into his touch you closed your eyes, once more leaning into him. You couldn’t trust him, not in any way, but…

“Feel better?”

You nodded.

The two of you tried to get your feet to work but they refused, and your wet body flopped uselessly into his arms.

“Sorry,” you said, noticing his own clothes getting soaked.

“It - it’s fine,” he stammered, his face growing hot and red. He held you up, grabbing the towel with one struggling hand and wrapping it around you. Half shivering you sat on the edge of the tub, watching as he leaned over you, draining the sudsy water away.

Eventually, all dried up and in fresh clothes that smelled very specifically of him, you sat on the bed eating the cold pasta he’d given you.

“I can warm it up you know,” he said, watching you eat by the bedside.

You shook your head, the food still hanging out of it. He shrugged, excusing himself for a moment, and coming back with a thin, silver block.

“What -“

“I thought you might want to watch a movie or something,” he said, setting it down and opening it.

Oh, you thought to yourself, marveling at the bright screen. I’ve heard of these computers.

Typing on the board he pulled up a website, clicking quickly on a movie and settling in beside you.

“If you don’t like it I can change it,” he said, allowing you your space on the bed.

White Christmas came up on the screen. The quality was grainy but colorful, the music wonderfully melodic. Music wasn’t a common thing in the heavens. That is to say, the music of the stars would hardly qualify as the music humans knew on earth.

As the movie came to a close he shut the laptop, sliding off the bed, the computer beneath his arm.

“Get some sleep,” he said, watching you shift downwards so your head lay on the pillows. You didn’t really need to sleep, you wanted to tell him. You never had, but for some reason you wanted to close your eyes anyway. As you did, the creak of the door signaled his leave. In the silence of night you wondered how long you’d be allowed to stay.

You didn’t wake again till the next day was halfway through. The man told you so, telling you it was 12, and with your confused face in return, he began to describe time.

“I really don’t understand why you don’t know this stuff. Are you sure we can’t go to a hospital?” He asked gingerly, his head tilted downwards but keeping your gaze.

“If you take me to a hospital -“

“You’ll turn me inside out. I know, yeah…” he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “Listen, I’m having friends over tonight. I think it’d be best if you just stayed in here. It’s a bit hard to explain, but I think it’ll be safer, okay?”

Slowly you nodded, half understanding that all you needed to do was stay in the room you were in. You were patient. Millenia of listening to Gods’ slow voice allowed for that.

“They’re coming over in about an hour. This,” he grabbed your wrist, latching a clock around it, “will tell you when that is.”

Examining the silver band, the light above you reflected into the glass, making you shut your eyes tight.

“Don’t do that,” he grumbled, pulling your wrist away from its position.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s fine. You hungry?”

You shook your head, knowing that you didn’t need to eat. You really, really, really didn’t need to eat, but your stomach growled loudly, your eyes widening as you stared down at it.

“You have no idea how your body works, do you?”

You gulped. How could he ever had found out?

With a sigh he helped you stand, and with his arm around your waist and yours around his shoulders, you limped to the door, heading out into the hallway and the rest of what you presumed was his home. It was nicely lit, with mostly white walls and rather comfortable furniture. You sat on the couch, watching him intently as he prepared some sort of food for you again. He finished, setting the plate in front of you.

“You eat it with your hands,” he told you, already assuming you’d never seen a sandwich before. He went to leave, but you grasped his wrist tight, forcing him to face you. Jarred by your strength his mouth hung open and he gaped at you, confused and alarmed.

“Thank you,” you murmured, staring directly into his eyes.

“Uh… yeah. ‘Course,” he stammered, wriggling free from your lessened grasp. With wary eyes, darting to you in fear, he left the room. Nose twitching, you grabbed the sandwich with your hands, taking a massive bite.

By your last bite, you still hadn’t seen him, but the door had been knocking for several minutes. As time continued the knocking got louder, more furious, till voices came as well, demanding that the door be opened. Pounding footsteps came from the hallway, rushing through the living room till the man, auburn hair flying as he ran past ran straight into the door, ramming his chin against the wooden door.

“Fuck! Ah, sorry, give me a - uh,” he turned to you, still jiggling the door handle, “room?”

“There’s room,” you replied.

“No, go to the bedroom!”

“I can’t stand!”

“What’s going on behind there?” Came the voice behind the door.

“One second guys, just, uh,” he helped you to your feet, “getting dressed.”

“I don’t mind you being naked,” another voice said, drawing a belt of a laugh from the man behind the door.

“They’re… joking,” he mumbled to you, kicking the door open and setting you down on the bed. Though rushed, he tucked you in, fluffing the pillow and quickly turning out the light. Disgruntled, you fidgeted under the covers, keeping your eyes open as you listened to the voices outside.

“I heard two voices,” one of them said, not your man.

“You’re crazy,” the other said.

You buried your nose under the covers. They continued their conversation, talking about things you couldn’t understand, things you knew you would get if you just had your angelic powers back. They allowed you to understand the non-understandable.

“Do you usually eat naked?” One of the men asked, and in an instant you recalled your nearly all-the-way-eaten sandwich.

“No,” your man replied quickly. “That was from a while ago.”

“Someone’s sloppy.”

“Yeah, Jesus Christ, clean up after yourself!”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that when I see him next,” your man said with a laugh.

They resorted once more into language you couldn’t understand, a switch clicking in the room and then the sound of many voices emanating from the living room. Your chest felt restricted, and your stomach still empty, so you dug yourself deeper into the sheets, hoping the uneasy feeling would soon cease.

A few more minutes clutching your stomach and it did not. Perhaps something was wrong with you? You knew very little about the complexities of humans. Maybe you needed to eat more. So, on shaky legs, keeping your arms on the bed you stood, being mainly supported by your arms. Stumbling you made your way to the wall, walking beside it towards the door. He had said not to leave the room, but something felt wrong, so terribly wrong, that you were sure he wouldn’t mind. Your logic was so: he would, most likely, prefer to find you wobbling into the living room rather than to find you dead on the bed. Could you die? You weren’t sure, but chances weren’t a thing you were ready to take.

Walking through the short hallway you kept your hands pressed to the wall, coming up behind the couch that three men now sat on, a large screen on the wall turned on to some sort of entertainment.

Which one was him? None of them were facing you, and you didn’t know if humans all looked the same. Supposedly they didn’t, but to someone like yourself who wasn’t accustomed to their faces, maybe they would all look similar. You went by hair color. The man in the middle had golden hair - that wasn’t your man. The one on the left was taller, with brown hair. On the right was the auburn hair. You tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to look up at you, fear and surprise burning right into your skin through his eyes.

His shock brought the other two from their entrancement with the screen, turning to see you as well. For a moment, everything was silent. They stared at you, you stared right back.

“Give me a moment,” your man suddenly said, jumping over the back of the bed and all but dragging you back to the hall.

“I feel wrong,” you said before he could get angry. He furrowed his brow, confused, but listening. “My chest aches. I feel empty here,” you said, bunching up the shirt you wore and pointing to your stomach area.

He sighed, an exasperated sound, his head falling to your shoulder.

“You’re thirsty,” he finally told you, pulling you with a more gentle touch back into the kitchen and sitting you down on a barstool. He went to grab a glass from the cupboard.

“So, uh, going t’ introduce us?” The blond asked, his voice deep and strange.

“Uh, this is, um,” he tried to say, realizing as he made eye contact with you that neither of you knew each others’ names.

“Mal,” you answered for him. It wasn’t your full, true name, as giving your whole name would give them power over you. That was something you couldn’t find yourself ever doing.

The two men on the couch looked at each other then burst out laughing, making you tilt your head slightly to the left, confused.

“Joey, you could’ve just told us you had a one night stand thing going on, he can join us,” the blond laughed, slapping the taller man on the shoulder. You looked back at your man, supposedly ‘Joey,’ with wide, bewildered eyes.

“Okay first of all, not a one night stand,” he glanced at you, “he’s just a… sick friend.”

“He?” You asked.

“She?” He tried out, but it didn’t help. A silence stretched as both of, utterly perturbed, stared at each other.

“Should we go?” The tall man asked, pointing back at the blond and then himself.

“No, it - it’s fine,” Joey stumbled, handing you a glass of water. “Mal just needs sleep.”

You nodded along. Whatever was happening could be discussed later. He tilted the glass to your mouth, and you opened it, allowing the water to slip through.

“Make sure you’re not breathing when you drink,” he whispered in your ear, quickly jumping back to the couch between his friends. You did as told, almost choking on it but swallowing nonetheless. Feeling your back hurt you stretched, reaching your arms for the ceiling. A sudden burst of pain flooded through your spine, electrocuting your head and tingling through your fingertips.

You let out a strangled, quiet cry, holding your shoulders with your hands. Joey turned to you in a flash, looking at you over the edge of the couch.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Probably,” you answered, shrugging, and gesturing to the screen when he wouldn’t turn away from you. Hesitant, he turned back, watching the delightful characters running around.

Every now and then, over the next few hours they’d go back to the kitchen, grabbing brown bottles from the fridge and downing them rather quickly. You watched from your seat patiently.

“You want one?” The tall one asked, moving to hand you one.

“Uh, that’s probably not a good idea,” Joey stopped him before you could make up your mind, pulling the tall man back by his arm. The man just shrugged, smiling at you, and popping open his own bottle.

“How’d - how’d you two meet?” The blond asked, and by that point you realized that the drink must’ve been doing something to them. They swayed in their stance, their voices clogged and speech dumbed.

“He - she, uh, fell… on the subway. Helped him - her - uh, them, up,” Joey responded, swirling his drink.

“Wait, wait wait,” the tall one turned to you, leaning in close and examining you. You remained rigid. “Are you a guy or a girl?”

“I am the heavens personified. I don’t fall into binary categories that you assign to know the others genitalia.”

All three of them laughed at that. You, on the other hand, found little humor in it. By the end of the evening the three of them became so intoxicated on whatever was in those drinks that you had to convince them, very sloppily to stop, which in the end, they finally acquiesced.

They insisted you come sit with them on the couch, trying to pull you from your seat.

“I want to avoid walking,” you informed them curtly, trying to get them to stop.

“Alright-y then,” the blond said, suddenly lifting you out of your seat and carrying you, laughing and giggling with his friends as he sat you on his lap on the couch. Awkward and confused you shifted, getting comfortable with where you now were.

“Okay okay so - Mal insists on no more drinks, so umm… no drinking games,” Joey slurred, holding his fingers out and counting ‘no drinking games’ on one.

“Beer pong!” The tall one suggested. The blond knocked him on the head as Joey laughed.

“Drinking is literally the main thing in that game, Gwil,” the blond wheezed out. Ah, you thought, so the tall one is named Gwil.

“Uh, Mal knows like, nothing about being alive,” Joey started, and you couldn’t entirely disagree. “So something simple?”

“Truth… or dare,” Gwil suggested in a dramatic whisper, pointing to the blond as he said truth, and to Joey when he said dare.

“What are we, seven?” Joey asked, sticking his tongue out in disapproval.

“You said simple!”

Both Gwil and Joey continued arguing as the blond whispered in your ear, telling you the rules of the game, keeping his voice low to avoid being heard by the other two. You listened intently, leaning into him. In turn, he kept his hand around your waist, keeping you from sliding off.

“Alright, fine!” Joey finally conceded, throwing his hands up in the air. “Do you know how to play?” He asked, looking at you.

You nodded.

“Wow, I’m surprised,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“I just taught him,” said the blond.

“Her,” Gwil corrected.

“Both!” Joey added.

“Or neither,” Gwil and the blond said at the same time, and the three of them broke into childish laughter again.

As it died, Joey asked, “what were we talking about again?” which really only spurred the laughter on further.

The rest of the night proceeded in similar fashion, growing calmer as the drink went through their systems. You never did get to play that odd game.

“Stay the night, won’t you?” Joey asked them, but they refused, saying they got a hotel room in the city.

“Besides,” the blond added, “looks like you’ve got plenty of company.” Along with this he wiggled his eyebrows, winking. Gwil snorted, saying his good byes along with the blond and shutting the door.

“Joey -“

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, stumbling only slightly as he came over to you. Arm wrapped round your waist he helped you up, walking you through the hall, into the room, and into the bathroom to sit you on the toilet seat.

“I’m not dirty,” you stated, watching him rub his face with water running from the sink faucet.

“Should change your clothes anyway,” he said with a sigh, drying his hands and helping you out of his shirt. “Ah shit,” he mumbled, suddenly remembering you needed another pair of clothes to get into. He left the room to look for clothing, door wide open, as you sat half naked on the seat.

Curious as to what your back looked like, hoping desperately that maybe if you just looked you’d get your wings back, you stood shakily, grasping the counter to turn around and look at yourself in the mirror.

Down your back ran two massive tears, open and cracked with blood. Surprised, you reached to touch them, shrinking away from your hand when you did so.

“Jesus,” Joey breathed out, standing in the doorway of the bathroom. You turned quickly to him, wondering if you’d done something wrong. “They must’ve cracked open when you were with me and my friends.”

“What?”

“They looked a little more put together when I last saw ‘em,” he explained, turning your back to him to examine them further. “Not bleeding at least. God…”

His finger traced the outline of them, causing spikes of pain to run through you whenever he got too close.

“You’re sure about the hospital?” He asked.

“I will -“

“Yeah, okay,” he interrupted you, getting your point without your threat. For a few moments more you let him touch you, gently trying to see how bad it was. “I have bandages,” he said as he withdrew. You turned around expectantly.

He sighed, bending down and opening a door underneath the sink, pulling out a long, thin cloth, all rolled up. Slowly, aware of your careful watch, he wrapped the fabric around your chest, starting right beneath your arms and going down to the end of your ribs.

When he finished you grabbed his wrist, tugging him down to you.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, slowly realizing that that was just how you thanked people.

In silence he undressed and dressed you, wondering to himself if you’d ever be able to dress yourself. Would he have to teach you? You, on the other hand, were thinking about his friends. They all felt oddly intimate.

He put you to bed after that, brushing the short hair out of your eyes, noting quietly to you that it had grown slightly longer.

“It sure grows fast,” he said, pulling the sheets over your bed. He made to leave, stopped by your grip on his wrist once more capturing him.

“Where do you sleep?” You asked quietly.

“On the couch.”

“Is that comfortable?”

“Yeah, I think it is,” he said with a shrug.

“Alright,” you murmured, releasing him and tucking yourself back into the blankets. He smiled, patting your shoulder and leaving the room.

Routine proceeded from that day on. You would wake up by afternoon, and he would force you to eat and drink, every so often leaving his home, but never telling you why. On those days, he’d usually come back with bags, and oftentimes would help you with bathing.

“You need to learn how to do this yourself,” he told you one day, rubbing soap into your cheeks and neck.

“I like when you do it,” you responded, making him choke on his breath.

“Whatever you want,” he responded, his words rushed out.

One morning when you awoke, he wasn’t there. First you called for him, as he usually noticed when you stirred, but you earned no response. You then stood, walking with a nice cane he’d gotten you a few days ago. ‘Just for now,’ he said, ‘’till you heal.’ Still, no sign at all of him, except a note taped to the door. You couldn’t read it, as all you could really read was Enochian. So you sat. And waited.

It wasn’t long till the sound of his key at the door came, turning the gears of the lock till it opened, revealing him and a man behind him.

“Mal, hey,” he said, opening the door to allow the man behind him in before closing and locking it. In a small motion you waved at him. “This is my friend, Rami. Say hi Rami.”

The man, Rami, glared at Joey (who you’d learned recently was actually named ‘Joe’) before approaching you with his hand outstretched.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, waiting for you to make a move. Hesitating only a second, you slapped his open hand.

From the kitchen Joe snorted, laughing at what you’d just done.

“What?” Looking up at Rami, he looked equally amused and confused.

“You’re supposed to shake his hand,” Joe explained, waking over and demonstrating the proper greeting movement with his friend. Slowly you nodded, shaking Rami’s hand, feeling the warm roughness of his palm.

“You may call me Mal,” you said, looking him in the eye. He chuckled, nodding.

“He’s flown in from L.A. to stay a few days. I don’t -“ he turned to Rami, “- did you get a hotel room?”

“Not yet, but it shouldn’t be a problem getting one if need be,” he said, setting his bags down near the door.

“I only have one bed, but I guess someone could share,” Joe said with a shrug, pulling two beer bottles out of the fridge and relaxing next to you, Rami on the other side of him as he turned on the television.

After a while of being rather annoyed by a plot you couldn’t understand, you nudged Joe, telling him so.

“Take this,” he said, handing you his laptop. “Go wild.”

You fiddled with it, grabbing your cane and walking back into the bedroom. Sitting on the bed you opened it on your lap, immediately coming face to face with a search tool. If Joe had only known what you would do, he would’ve never handed you the laptop, as this was most definitely one of the worst decisions in the world. Instead, he left you to your own chaotic devices, and the first thing you looked up was ‘do i need to eat?’, which lead to ‘how do human organs work,’ to ‘what are sex organs,’ and, one can guess where that led.

Eventually that led only deeper into the Internet, to what drugs were, into drug arrests, and every sinful thing put on the news, to odd songs about sex and drugs simultaneously, and movies about rockstars.

“Hey, you doin’ okay?” Joe asked, his hands on either side of the doorway, leaning into the room. Silently, you turned the computer around to a headline reading, ‘Florida Man bites off his brother’s penis after he walks in on his brother having sex with his cousin on his favorite Dragon Ball Z blanket.’

“Jesus Christ, I can’t leave you alone for two seconds,” he grumbled, shutting the laptop and tucking it under his arm.

“It’s been an hour,” you reminded him helpfully. He ignored you.

“Rami can’t find any affordable hotel rooms, he needs to stay here for the night. He’s got a room for tomorrow onwards,” he informed you, helping you up and back into the living room, setting his computer on the bar counter.

“I told him I can sleep on the couch but he won’t listen to me,” Rami said, tapping his fingers on the back of the couch, watching as you sat on a barstool.

“Absolutely not. I won’t stand for it,” Joe responded, flopping onto the couch to sit beside his friend.

“Then where’s your friend going to sleep?” He asked, gesturing to you.

“We’ll work it out. It’s late, you’ve got work to do in the morning,” Joe said, tugging Rami off the couch and pushing him to the bedroom.

“Right, of course Mom,” he grumbled as the door shut loudly behind him. You simply watched, stoic and silent, as Joe returned into the living room, hands on his hips.

Mumbling mostly to himself, he helped you over to the couch.

“Are we sleeping together?” You asked as he stood. Stammering, he attempted an answer.

“Uh - sort of I guess? I mean, you - you don’t have to, you’re always talking about how you don’t need sleep, but I still think you should, not necessarily with me, but I just mean you need to sleep, and I guess since there’s only the couch left you could sleep there and I’ll just… sleep on the floor?”

“Is the floor comfortable?” You asked.

“Um, not really?”

“Then sleep on the couch,” you said, pulling the back cushions out to make room for him.

“Uh….”

You patted the couch and, stumbling only a second, he sat beside you. Reaching behind him, you grabbed a pillow from off the edge of the cushions, setting it up for his head on the end of the couch. Gently, you made him lie down, wrapping him up in a blanket hung over the back. He stuttered something incoherent, watching and only protesting mildly as you stood, taking the short trip to the light to turn it off. Setting your cane down, you crawled in next to him, pressing your body against his in the tight space.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said, his voice cracking as you put his arm around you for your own comfort, “where did you come from? Do you even remember?”

“I was an angel,” you answered honestly, fully believing that he’d take your word. What you didn’t expect was for him to hold back a laugh, looking down at you.

“Really?”

“I fell from heaven. My form changed. I’ve never been to earth before now.”

“Well that certainly explains a lot. If it was believable,” he muttered, shifting under the blankets you’d gotten to be more comfortable.

“It’s the truth. I am bound by ethereal powers to never lie so -“

“You could just as easily be a person lying,” he interrupted, now unwilling to meet your eye.

“Ask me a question about God, or the world... something you’ve always wondered,” you tried, hoping he’d ask something you knew about.

He waited, his head now facing fully away from you as he thought. Outside a storm grew, but the only thing you could think about was him.

“Which religion is right? Is it the Christians?”

“All of them are right. Every god or goddess to ever be told of exists. They congregate every now and then. I sit by Gods’ side during those meetings. The god Jewish, Muslim, and Christian people believe in, that is.”

“What happens when we die?”

“Whatever you think.”

“What?” He turned to you.

“If one believes they will become the clouds, they will become the clouds. If they believe nothing happens, they die. Their consciousness is wiped. There is a heaven, reincarnation, and a hell, but not much happens in hell.”

“Wait, what happens in hell then?”

“I haven’t been there often,” you said, recalling the last time God had a meeting with their son. “Lucifer is actually rather calm. It’s just… imagine if a bunch of criminals and people who thought they were awful were put into one area. There isn’t any torture or demons, just people who believed they were going to hell.”

“Okay, lots of questions about that -“ he laughed, “- so it’s basically Afterlife Australia?”

You shrugged. In honesty, you had no idea what Australia was, but he was probably right. You trusted him as far as you could.

“And if someone who was a good person, but just really hated themselves and thought they would go to hell, would they go to hell?”

“That’s what the angels Kiraman Katibin, Phanuel, Nakir, and Abathar Muzania are working together for,” you said, and in that moment you realized you probably shouldn’t be trusting this information to a human. Nonetheless, you continued. “They… judge, sort of. Like Ma’at and her 42 judges for Egyptian afterlife, for those that believe in that.”

“… interesting.”

He left it at that. You snuggled in closer, his breathing grew harsher, but the both of you fell into easy sleep. By morning, he awoke first, jostling you awake when he reached for a note on the table. Leaning over to look, your cheek resting on his shoulder, you asked what it said.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, his face warm. “Jus’ that he’s left already.”

“Oh.”

“God, I need to get off my ass,” he muttered under his breath to himself. He stood, stretching his hands to the sky, before releasing the tensions with a deep sigh. Plodding into the kitchen, he turned on the sink, pulling down another glass and drinking from it once it filled to overflow. You picked the cushions back up off the floor, putting them back into place.

Making his way back over to you, he collapsed back onto the couch, relaxing into the cushions.

“Really hoping you don’t kill me for saying this, but I’m half convinced you’re insane,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. The whole situation with you was clearly stressing him out - even you could tell.

“How may I settle these worries?”

“Prove it. But if you’re fallen, you probably don’t… have any powers, or whatever.”

“I have scars down my back from my wings,” you reminded him.

“It could just as easily be that you were tortured, badly, and to cope with it you’re imagining that you’re an angel. All this information you’re giving is just personal beliefs. Stuff you could look up on the internet.”

“I… don’t know if I have any power left,” you said quietly, and your heart began to ache, weighing heavily through your body. Your touch possibly had power - humans loved to touch. It was essential to their lives. Maybe, just maybe, your touch had power.

“You think of ways to get the truth. I’ll make breakfast,” he said, grunting as he stood and patting your knee.

You sat, the crackle of frying eggs in the background as you buried yourself in thoughts. Your wings and halo were gone, you knew that for absolute sure. The feeling of them leaving you, how it tore you from yourself, stretching and pulling till it finally ripped, burning as everything you knew evaporated away. What was left when all was taken from you? Even your eyes, the ones that allowed you to look upon Gods, that let you return home and fully see the truth, the heavens and all that you loved, they were gone too.

Your soul. You still had that, didn’t you?

Grabbing your cane from the fallen position it had taken on the floor, you came to stand behind him, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned down the heat of the stove, turning around to face you, jumping back when he saw how close you were.

“I still have my soul. I’m… I’m not sure what I can do with it, but,” you looked up at him, eyes glittering a very suddenly bright blue, a change from your usual color, “can I try?”

“Af-after breakfast. Eat something first,” he stammered, grabbing plates from behind him, filling them with the eggs and toast, before setting it down on the table and sitting down. Your nose twitched once, but you sat down across from him, eating what he’d prepared, all the time wondering what would happen.

As the two of you finished he grabbed your plates, and from then on, essentially ignored you. Dodging you, not speaking to you, telling you to get more sleep, all of it you knew was more of an avoidance of the subject of your soul. In your weakened state, there was little you could do but let him force you to sleep.

So you slept. Into the next week, you slept. By the second day when you hadn’t woken up Joe began to worry, sitting at your bedside, making sure you were still breathing. Every evening his friend Rami would come over, asking where you were, and he would say you were sleeping.

“You should take them to a hospital,” he said, worry lacing his tone though he did not know you.

“I want to, but whenever I suggest it they pretty much make death threats.”

By the time you woke up, he was prepared to call the hospital, and Rami had already left, heading back to L.A.

“What are you doing,” you asked, monotone as you sat up, watching him about to dial the number on his phone.

“You’re awake!” He exclaimed, dropping his phone and rushing to hug you. “I thought you were dying!”

“I can sleep for extended periods of time. It’s to accommodate for my life span,” you informed him curtly, your arms plastered to your side as he squeezed you.

“That’s called a coma,” he spoke right into your ear, sighing as he released you, sitting beside you on the bed.

“Sounds like your problem.”

“It certainly feels like it. Why didn’t you warn me?”

“You were trying to get me to sleep, so I did.”

He glared at you, mentally noting to himself that you were petty in a very special way. Helping you out of the bed, cane forgotten, he kept you upright, leading you into the living room and onto the couch. From there he fed you, made sure you drank, and suggested a bath. You agreed.

Hoisting your arm around his shoulders, the two of you made your way slowly to the bathroom. There he did the usual; undressing you, filling the tub with warm water, and pushing up his sleeves to his elbows. Helping you into the tub, he sat on the edge, pouring shampoo onto his hands.

“You’re sure you’re okay with me doing this?” He asked, still unsure about the whole nudity you had.

“It seems to me you’re the only one bothered by it.”

“Wow, okay. Called out,” he said, chuckling to himself. “The tea is scorching.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said with a snort, still smiling to himself as he rubbing the shampoo into your scalp. You let yourself enjoy it, pushing into his touch with a blissed out expression.

“You should join me,” you mumbled as he pulled away. He halted, staring wide eyed at you.

“I should what?”

“Join me,” you repeated, watching carefully as a sudden smile grew on his face. He turned away, shaking his head, but still smiling in a dumbfounded way.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, ignoring your request to rinse his hands, “considering how little you know about human etiquette. Wouldn’t be too surprising if you never visited earth.” He mumbled his words, voicing his thoughts in an airy fashion.

“If you would just let me show you -“

“Mal,” he interrupted you, facing you with a sudden seriousness. “If souls are real, and if what you’re saying is real. Don’t you think it’d be dangerous? I don’t know what you’re planning, but using your soul has to be dangerous.”

“Might be. I need your trust,” you pleaded. “I will go to great lengths to get it.”

“Why?” He asked simply, tired of wondering quietly.

“Just for a moment, believe me,” you asked of him, and he nodded. “As an angel, we are built to never make our own decisions. God’s guidance is bright, and our halos blind us. Physically, we can trust no one but our God. When I fell, I… I was left alone. No longer blind, but able to make my own decisions, but in the way that I’d never done that before, I was still blind. Wh-What I’m trying to say is, I’m not built to trust anyone other than God. Joe, I trust you.”

Sometime in the middle of your speech he had stopped breathing, staring at you as unmoving as you usually were. Knowing his silence was filled with his thoughts and not his passiveness, you waited, watching for his movement.

“Okay,” he said. “Prove it.”

Moving slowly, you sat on the edge of the bathtub, naked as the day you fell from the sky. You reached for him, starting at his hand and moving up. Breathing unevenly, he kept his eye on your hand as it moved, up to his shoulder and up his neck, resting on his cheek. Pushing your other hand underneath his shirt, you came up to where his heart would rest. Closing your eyes, you let your head rest on his shoulder, pouring all the energy you could right into where your hand was.

In an instant you could feel his heart beat harshly through his skin, fast and powerful. Intaking a deep breath, you continued to try to intertwine your souls, or to at least let your own soul burn through his skin, enough to leave a mark. Anything to prove yourself.

As you withdrew he finally began to breathe again, taking deep breaths as you drew your hands back into your lap. Slowly he raised his shirt, having felt the intensity of what you’d just wrought, showing a soft golden glow emanating from his chest. His breathing started to pick up, growing faster as he realized you were telling the truth.

“I -“

“Don’t scream,” you said as his mouth opened wide.

“I wasn’t gonna scream,” he said, his voice choked and tight.

“… do you believe me now?” You asked softly, looking up at him earnestly.

“Don’t think I have a choice,” he murmured.

As his breathing slowed, an urge ran through you, one you allowed. Hesitantly, you moved closer, resting your forehead in the crook of his shoulder, closing your eyes and relaxing your muscles. He wrapped his arms gingerly around you, letting you lie still in his hold, running his touch down your spine.

“You’re really an angel, then?” He whispered, a rhetorical question you both knew the answer to: yes.

“I was. I’m human now. I belong to you,” you mumbled against his skin, your lips warm from the heat radiating off the soft skin of his neck.

“You belong to yourself, now. No one can take that away from you, especially not me.”

You remained silent, contemplating your words as you matched your slow breathing to his, your hand pressed against his chest.

“I want to belong to you.”

Moving from your position against his shoulder, you met his eye, close enough to feel his breath. He waited for you, patient as your gaze flickered from his lips and back up to his eyes.

“I need to be yours,” you murmured, leaning further in, a distance he met you in the middle for.

It was a strange sensation, his lips moving against yours - alien and familiar all at once, and when he pulled you closer to him you could feel yourself melting. Your chest shuddered with the force of your emotion, one you might’ve identified as love, had you known the words’ meaning.

I love you, he murmured against your lips, loathing to part from your warmth, but the desperate need to speak his mind overpowered his hate. You hummed when he kissed you again, cradling his jawline in your hand and rubbing your thumb over his cheek just as he’d done to you.

And in every way you allowed yourself the comfort of belonging, just as he held tight the reverence you gave him.

#joe mazzello x reader #joe mazello imagine #joe mazzello #female reader #male reader #gender neutral reader

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spiltscribbles · 5 years

Text

Hamilton Friends AU | The One With The Engagement

Notes: Okay so this is so late, I beam the craziness f this summer. But a huge Thank you to the ever lovely @aswithasunbeamwho prompted me this perfect Friends episode to write in a Hamilton AU. You’re an amazing soul and I hope you enjoy<3<3

“Your face looks weird.”

“Rude.”

“Just an observation,” Angelica, as appraising and blunt as ever, chides at Alexander with a probing finger to his cheek. In turn alexander just scowls her way and sticks out his tongue for good measure.

“She is correct my friend,” Lafayette, currently trying to balance a fifth book on his head after proclaiming that yes, in fact he is as graceful as any of those fucking Disney princesses, tacks on. “As if your face has gone all goopy permanently.”

“It’s like you’re staring at Eliza even though she’s not here,” Hercules clarifies with a shrug.

“You’re all awful people and I don’t know why I’ve ever agreed to be your friend.” Alexander huffs.

“We’ve gone and made him all sour,” Peggy snorts and Laurens begins to mimic his peeved off expression in-between his own cackles.

“Awful!” Alexander reiterates. “Awful, awful people.”

“Answer the question at hand loser,” Peggy charges on, standing up from the sofa and swinging her weight to her left hip, defiant. “Why do you look so eerily unbothered, so, un-Hamilton like. For Pete’s sake even when you’re happy you look like there’s a hundred different things that are annoying the fuck outta you.”

“Harsh.”

“Accurate.”

“Fine,” Alexander twists his lips in annoyance of getting caught out. “If I tell you lot you better swear on everything you own that you won’t breathe a word.”

“Mysterious,” Laurens leers.

“It is Burr, he has died a most awful death! This is the source of your happiness, no?” Lafayette accuses.

“Ah, erm…. Not quite yet?”

“Well get on with it then,” Angelica scolds with no real heat. “Some of us have actual lives to get too.”

“”Drag race is on tonight and me and Ange have got a bet going.” Peggy explains.

“Which I will win,” Angelica sniffs.

“Fine, fine,” Alexander harrumphs, long acquainted with the larger than life personalities of all the Schuyler sisters, his heart contracting and stomach swooping once thinking of one in particular. Of her long, dark hair, and impossibly bright eyes, and the way her smile makes it feel like Alexander’s floating in midair.

Eliza.

She’s quite literally the most beautiful, brilliant, strong willed and even stronger hearted woman he’s ever known. She’s everything Alexander wishes he was and nothing but wonderful. He knows that, is positive, even if he concedes that she in fact is not an angel sent from the heavens above. Eliza’s not perfect just because Alexander swears she is. He knows that she is a bit of a clean freak, that she can get neurotic if plans aren’t followed through exactly as she had laid out. He knows that she was brought up oblivious to her insane level of wealth and that sometimes it takes full blown arguments for her to speak her mind instead of trying to spare him or anyone else of their feelings. Alexander knows all these small quirks and he doesn’t care because they only make him love her all the more. He loves Eliza more than the sun and stars and all the galaxies above combined, he loves her so much that somedays Alexander thinks his chest might crack with it.

But it never does, and she’s always there, and what they have is everything Alexander has ever wanted, and Eliza is someone who he never thought he could have. All this to say that he has absolutely no doubts in his mind when he pulls out the small velvet box from his trouser’s pocket and opens it to reveal the sparkling engagement ring he’s spent months saving up for.

“wholly fuck,” Peggy balks, scurrying closer to snatch it out of Alexander’s grasp, Angelica right on her coattails.

“No way!” Laurens crowed the same time Lafayette let out a strange, indecipherable squeal that Alexander is almost positive was only partially in French, partially in English and then a hodgepodge of other languages he’s never even heard before— all the books cascading down to the wooden floors in a crescendo of thuds.

For his part, Hercules just begins to tear up with a stiff lip and quivering hands. “Get the hell outta here.”

“You guys don’t like it,” Alexander asks with a shit eating grin.

“Don’t be cheeky dork,” Angelica reproves, never taking her eyes off the ring, swatting at Peggy to give her a chance to hold it.

“Don’t speak that way to your future brother-in-law,” Laurens snickers, claps Alexander on the back with an encouraging hug. “I’m so proud of you Ham, you’ve finally found the one.”

Alexander gives his oldest friend— the man he once thought would’ve been his forever if they hadn’t had such contradictory views on what that meant— a watery smile. “thank you Laurens, but don’t get too excited, Betsey’s still gotta say yes.”

“She’s crazy about you,” Peggy says airily, waving off his worries with a lazy hand. “Of course she’s gonna say yes.”

Alexander bites down on a smile, casts his gaze to the floor so to hide his reddening cheeks. He’s still in such disbelief that this is his life. He’s got the world’s greatest friends, an amazing job that he actually enjoys, and now he might actually get to keep the dream girl. So far away from the lonesome days and hard nights of St Croix. Far away from dying mothers and flighty fathers and cruel brothers who never bothered to keep in touch. This, right here, these people, Eliza, the Washingtons, hell even Burr on a good day… They’re his family, the people he’d die for and who he’s sure would die for him too. What a strange feeling that is, to love and be loved. How strange it is that he gets to keep this sense of belonging, of balance.

“God, now enough with the sappiness,” Peggy gripes. “I can see it on your face Hamilton, and just because you’re technically my brother now doesn’t mean I won’t beat your ass if I feel like it.”

“Charming,” Alexander deadpans.

“I thought so,” Peggy says with a magnanimous grin.

“So what’s the plan? How are you gonna pop the question?” Hercules interjects from where he’s now examining the rose gold band and round cut diamond accented with sapphires.

“I was planning to take her to that really posh French restaurant near fifth avenue that Laf showed us. Bets loves hearing me speak French,” he explains with a wink.

“My people’s language does arouse a certain, how do you say, sultry emotion.” Lafayette leers.

“For the love of God stop talking about having sex with my baby sister.”

“Right, ahem.” Alexander concedes. “Well after that I was gonna order us a bottle of her favorite, ridiculously priced champaign.”

“We use to drink it when we’d summer in our villa in the South of France,” Peggy explains, totally impervious to how fantastical that sounds to Alexander.

“Friends with too many rich people,” Hercules mutters morosely, handing the ring off to Lafayette, face scrunched up in displeasure all the while.

“Do not hate us for our good fortunes mon grand,” Lafayette sniffs. “Especially now that Alexander is considered part of our lot after he and Eliza’s inevitable union. One that is written in the stars mind you.”

“What’s written in the stars?”

Alexander’s heart stutters to a rapid staccato just as soon as he sees the door to the apartment swing open, revealing a disheveled, but radiant Eliza strolling through, one perfectly manicured brow kinked.

Before Alexander can take a breath, Lafayette impulsively stuck the ring— the symbol of his undying love and eternal devotion to Eliza— into his fucking French, snail eating mouth.

“Gross,” he hisses, to which Lafayette just tossed him the bird.

“Ah, the fact that Thundermist is totally beating Vivian October tonight,” Peggy blurts out in a totally high pitched voice. Jesus fucking Christ half of them work in politics and the other half are lawyers, save for Hercules whom’s perfectly content as the head of Ralph Lauren merchandize. But still, Alexander expected that they’d all be better at lying than this pathetic display!

He’s subsequently shown up the moment Eliza flickers her gaze towards him, a knowing smile blooming across her face that makes Alexander’s heart ache with want. He supposes it’s more the person who they’re all lying to rather than the act itself.

“You and Ange need to stop making everything a competition love, it’s teetering on ridiculous.” She toots, tosses her and Alexander’s mail to the counter before excepting the peck he can’t help but offer her.

“You know how daddy is with his horses,” Angelica argues. “It’s in our blood.”

That just makes Eliza role her eyes, totally fond, before she excuses herself to change out of her pencil skirt and red bottom heals.

“Hey is there paint on your top?” Laurens asks, brows furrowed.

“Oh yeah,” Eliza blushes. “The kids had arts and crafts today at the orphanage and wanted me to help out so I just set all the paperwork to be done tomorrow instead.”

“THat’s my top!” Angelica squawks, affronted.

“It’ll come out,” Eliza shoos her off with a lofty tip to her head.

Once she’s shut the door on her to change, Alexander cuffs Lafayette on the back, hard.

“This is the love you show me after I successfully kept your little romantic gesture a secret,” he harrumphs.

“Now I’ve got your French cooties all over it!” Alexander hisses.

“Many a men and women would have died to get my delightful French saliva within a ten mile radius of them.”

“We really need to talk about your ego one of these days,” Peggy snorts.

“I have Adrien as my wife and you lot are blunders in love, I shall not permit any judgment from any of you.”

“Hey, I’ll be joining you in that marital bliss soon enough,” Alexander contends, totally giddy smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

“Gross,” the remainder chorus in varying degrees of exasperation, dosed in pride.

Alexander’s really never had the best luck, most especially when it was the romantic sort. Before Eliza he’s never had a relationship that lasted over six consecutive months, or one that he didn’t constantly feel as if he had to garnish a facade of brilliance and magnetism that he’s never truly felt he had any right to own. Before Eliza Alexander never was able to picture himself settling into the domestic sphere quite so willingly. Never thought he would’ve yearned for quiet Sunday mornings in bed where Eliza’s head was propped up on his chest, and the early morning light would cascade atop her cheekbones and lips and glimmer in her hair. Those mornings where all Alexander could focus on was counting the quiet breaths she would let out and plotting out all the ways he could always make her look so at peace and lovely. Alexander never thought he would ever want the house in the suburbs with a large yard and rose gardens and everything his mother had tried to give him when she was still here. Alexander never had wanted it until Eliza came and he realized he could have it with her.

He remembers one particularly pitiful night towards the end of L2 when he had just cut ties with Cornelia Lotts because he had woken up that morning and had just not found her as interesting as the night before, which obviously meant he had drunken himself silly at some sleazy bar and tried picking up someone knew, just for the fun of it. Instead he was met by Angelica’s expectant, irritated glower once he was three drinks in, telling him on no uncertain terms that the reason his love life sucked so hard is because he always went for the obscenely wealthy and tragically pretty folks that always infested ivy league institutions. The same folks with too large egos and too little self worth to ever consider having an actual relationship with someone outside of their social circle— A circle that the Schuyler family were the crown jewels of is what Angelica didn’t have to say but Alexander heard in screaming clarity all the same.

“Fuck you.”

“You wish loser.”

That was when she tugged him by the ear to get out of the city with her for the long weekend to clear his head. When he slept in her family’s country home upstate. When he had stumbled downstairs in the middle of the night to be face to face—for the first time— with the sister he’s seen millions of pictures of and heard even more stories about by a beaming Angelica. The one who had just spent the year after graduating Yale in the peace corps. That was when Alexander’s heart had first swelled and he was a goner.

“Eliza.”

“Yes love,” Eliza smiles up at him through her lashes now, so many years detached from their first meeting. Years composed of unrequited crushes and tentative laughs that morphed into a strong friendship and shy words of sincerity. Eventually leading them to first kisses and first nights and all the in-betweens Alexander’s never gone through with any other relationship. Nothing else felt as vital, as permanent, as the one he shares with Eliza. Nothing else felt like it deserved his efforts in quite the same ways that he’s always known Eliza has. Nothing else has made him experience this distinct sort of want.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she giggles, mouth partially hidden from the lip of the flute of champaign she’s nursing. “Is everything alright deer? You look a little pale.”

Alexander’s throat closes up and he rinses his hands with anticipation.

“Yeah, yes. Everything’s Perfect Bets, it’s been perfect for a while now… Honestly ever since you agreed to actually go out with me. You. You make things perfect.”

Eliza doesn’t answer him in so many words, just cups her hands around hiss face and kisses him nice and thorough. Alexander wonders if how she makes everything inside of him go golden with every press to the lips will ever fade.

He seriously doubts it.

“Now, let me get this out, okay?” Alexander begs, squeezing her hands with his own and kissing the tops of each of her fingers gingerly.

“Oh, Andre.”

Alexander’s heart stills and the breath from his lungs escapes— It feels like something awful and freezing has just clutched his heart and rinsed it dry.

“No, Alex—- I’m Alex.”

That only makes Eliza role her eyes at him before nudging her head to where a ridiculously handsome, obviously well off man stands.

“Oh, yes…. erm that is Andre.”

“Maybe he won’t see us,” Eliza offers before he’s lead directly to the recently vacated spot besides them by a completely oblivious host.

“Maybe he’s blind now?” Alexander says hopefully.

“Lizzy Schuyler is that you?”

Alexander curses every ounce of bad luck he’s somehow accumulated before standing up to exchange awkward pleasantries and spending the remainder of the night refraining himself from knocking Andre/s lights out every time he stares a tad bit too longingly towards Eliza for his liking.

The pampered bastard.

Still inwardly fuming while drinking his morning coffee, Alexander was accosted by someone cuffing him on the back of the head, hard.

He isn’t surprised to turn around and Find a surly looking Angelica glaring at him, hands on her hips and mouth curled in a distinctly predatory fashion.

“What happened last night Hamilton?”

“How do you know something happened?”

“Well when I gushed to look at Liza’s hand this morning, instead of a rock on her finger she just looked at me like I was insane! I had to pretend I wanted to read her palm.”

“So confirming the insanity suspicion then?” He asks owlishly.

“Hamilton!” She says in a hiss.

“I couldn’t do it, okay.” Alexander snaps back, waspish.

“You chickened out,” Angelica accuses, depositing herself on the sofa besides him in the small cafe and snatching the muffin from his hand.

“No.”

“Then what? You changed your mind? My baby sister not good enough for you?” She needles, prickly as he’s ever seen her.

“Don’t be ridiculous Anne.”

“Then wh—“

“Andre showed up,” he blurts with absolutely no tact.

“No fucking way,” Angelica gapes, dropping the aforementioned muffin.

“I’m cursed aren’t I?”

“Kinda,” Angelica consoles with a pout, cradling his head on her shoulder.

“Ah oh, not a good sign.” Hercules observes once taking a seat with his own latte.

“Hamilton’s cursed,” Angelica informs him, matter-of-fact.

“Why this time?”

“Because Eliza’s fucking perfect ex-fiancé somehow showed up last night with his own date and sat there besides us looking all handsome and waxing all poetic and reminiscing about how he and Eliza were caught fucking in her childhood bedroom her sophomore year of college and making her laugh and I couldn’t get a damn word in edgewise!”

“Oh not the thanksgiving story,” Angelica winces.

“So I reckon you didn’t propose?”

“I was gonna do it tonight instead, but thanks to Mis babble mouth over here,” he elbow checks Angelica. “Eliza most definitely suspects something is up now.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that you apparently committed some sort of horrendous crime in a past life.”

“Who asks to look at someone’s hands!” Alexander hurls.

“People who think their sister was just proposed to!” Angelica defends.

“It’s fine you guys, we’ve just gotta throw her off the trail a little. Make her think marriage’s the furthest thing from your mind.” Hercules placates.

“Yeah, yeah Herc, you’re right.” Alexander nods, is thrown to alert the moment the cafe��s bells chime— indicating a new customer— and it’s Eliza’s soft timbre that rings in his ears.

“I swear, I don’t care what Laf says, French people are total weirdos.” She sheds off her jacket and assumes the seat in Alexander’s all too willing lap. “I walk into his place to pick up some papers I left there and the first thing he wants to see is my hand to see if it’s proportionate to his.” With a huff, she grabs the coffee mug from Alexander, face scrunching up adorably at the excessive amount of sugar he always mixes in. Totally oblivious to how his heart is pulsing and his face is infused a bright red.

“Oh— Hah, how weird,” Angelica titters awkwardly.

“Why do you sound so strange Ange?”

“No she doesn’t,” Alexander quickly pipes in.

“Yes…. She does.” Her brows furrow, the smallest dent between her eyes telling Alexander that she’s suspecting something. “What’s going on?”

“We were just reading this article in the New Yorker is all,” Hercules explains, saving all their asses. “It’s making her worry about her relationship with Mr Big.”

“His name’s Church, stop comparing our lives to Sex In The City characters,” Angelica admonishes with no heat.

“Whatever Miranda.”

“So what’s this article that’s got you all frazzled Angelica?” Eliza asks worriedly.

“It’s about marriage,” Alexander answers instead, seeing his opportunity and plunging for it.

“Marriage?”

“Yeah, just about how it’s a total scam. I mean think about it Bets, legally timing yourself to another person? Doesn’t that sound Orwellian to you? A ploy by the government just to get our money and to keep us in check if you ask me.”

Eliza’s frown somehow, impossibly, sinks deeper.

“That’s not what you think Alex, is it?”

“I mean, ah yeah—“ His voice most certainly does not screech like he was a character from Saved By The Bell. “I mean you know me Eliza. I mean marriage didn’t keep my dad around for my mom.”

He can’t believe he just used that card on her. He totally deserves to go to hell for that one.

“It doesn’t always have to end up like that hon.” She cards a hand through his hair, kisses his cheek gingerly. And yeah, eternal damnation here Alexander comes.

“Eliza like 60% of all marriages now days ends in divorce,” Angelica contends. “Can you even name a couple that hasn’t been separated at least once.”

“Our parents,” she sniffs.

“But is it worth taking that chance,” Alexander says, reminds himself of how happy she’ll be tonight after he pops the question, when Eliza shakes off the hand that’s trying to lace their fingers together.

“Yeah, Yeah Alex I do think it’s worth that chance! And you know I do!” She starts to get up now, properly mad. “I mean don’t you guys want to promise yourself to the person you love in front of all your nearest and dearest. Be bound to someone so intimately and permanently. To get to show off your love to the world to see!”

“Sounds kinda selfish to me,” Alexander counters and Hercules and Angelica mumble their agreements.

“Okay,I’m running late for work.” In a cloud of carefully concealed fury, found in the pinch of her shoulders and downturn of her lips, Eliza collects her bag and jacket before storming out. A quiet fury in total opposition to her sisters’ brash words and ear shattering shouts.

Alexander yet again reminds himself of her beaming face when she doesn’t dip down to give him the customary kiss goodbye.

“This’s gonna workout just fine.”

#Hamilton #Hamliza #Eliza Schuyler Hamilton #Alexander Hamilton #Spilled Ink #Friends Meme #aswithasunbeam #SPILT ink #friends AU

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taestfully · 5 years

Text

You go to Disney with them

Request: @tatasfather said: hi! could you please you do a reaction of bts going to disney with you for the first time? i think it'd be really sweet :) thanks & love your blog!

A/N: This is too cute! Going to Disney with the boys would be the best thing ever. Hope you enjoy, love! ❤️

Seokjin

You and Jin had done just about everything there was to do at Disney. You rode the rides, posed with Mickey and Minnie, took the obligatory picture in front of Cinderella’s castle, and had bought an unnecessary amount of Disney merchandise.

But you soon noticed that none of those things were what Jin loved most about Disney.

What he really loved the most was the plethora of places to eat.

“Okay, so what to try next...” Jin muttered as he looked over a map of the park. He was walking slightly ahead of you, allowing you to watch him as he scanned over the map. You giggled.

“I feel like we’re on some mission.”

Jin turned to glance back at you. “It’s Disney,” he insisted. “You can’t come here and not try all of the yummy food!” He was facing front again as he lead you along through the sea of people in search for the next stop. “I guess you could consider it a mission.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, thought he couldn’t see it. “What, a mission to make me so full I’ll feel like exploding?” Jin shot you an eye roll, smirking. You sped up to match his pace and looked over the map in his hands. “Where are we going anyway?”

“The Candy Cauldron,” Jin told you as he pin pointed it on the map with his index finger. And the two of you finally arrived there after serving through the crowd and some more whining on your part.

“Jin...” you whined. “I’m so full. Are you really wanting to eat some more?”

Jin smiled at you and grabbed your hand as he began to lead you in. “Of course! I mean, food is one of my favorite things!” He took that moment to stop and kiss your cheek. “My other favorite things are Disney and you. So glad to have all of them out together.”

Despite yourself, you smiled. And even after being so full you thought you’d never eat again, you enjoyed the rare experience of being at Disney with your amazing boyfriend.

Yoongi

“Oh come on, Yoongi! Just pose for one picture, okay?”

Yoongi shook his head. “No way! I’m not taking the picture.”

You huffed. “Why not? Everyone has to get at least one picture with Mickey and Minnie while they’re at Disney.”

“Okay then. Go over there and get your picture made with them. I’ll stay right here.”

Your rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s stubbornness. Why wasn’t he wanting to take one measly picture? You crossed your arms as you stared him down, thinking of a way to get him to do what you wanted. It dawned on you then. Maybe he was was scared of them? It wasn’t like it was totally uncommon for people to fear other people dressed up in big giant animal suits. You giggled, making him give you a funny look, as you thought about your cool, nonchalant boyfriend getting scared over something so little.

“What is it?” He asked you.

You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your mouth. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just think it’s funny that you’re too scared to go take a picture with a mouse.”

Yoongi scoffed at you. “I am not,” he insisted, his grumpy expression reminding you much of a pouty child.

“Hmm, I’m not convinced,” you feigned. You grinned victoriously when he groaned in defeat.

“Fine, I’ll take the picture.” Yoongi surrendered and began to walk towards where Mickey stood.

You giggled as you got your phone ready. “Love you!”

Yoongi shot you a look, but then smiled. It was amazing how he’d do anything for you.

Hoseok

You and Hoseok were that couple at Disney. The couple that was so unabashedly in love that it bordered being obnoxious. The couple that the older couples would look at with nostalgic fondness. The couple that people would see and wish to have what the two of you did.

The couple that walked around the whole singing Disney songs at the top of your lungs.

You really didn’t care what anyone thought of you, you were just happy that you got to spend a day with your boyfriend at an amazing place like Disney. You and Hoseok were having the time of your lives riding every ride at the park, taking cute and goofy pictures with the Disney characters, and stuffing your faces with all the tasty treats you could’ve only gotten at Disney.

“(Y/n),” Hoseok spoke, smiling softly when you looked at him.

“Yeah?”

“We’re coming here for our honeymoon.”

He said it so casually yet it made your heart flutter. You blushed. “Really? So that means we’re going to get married someday?” You knew deep down that Hoseok was the one. He was your Prince Charming and you were his Cinderella. You had no doubt that you wanted to live happily ever after with him, yet hearing him say something like that, made your heart soar. He wanted to be with you forever too.

“Of course!” Hoseok took your hand in his as you continued to walk through the crowd, Cinderella’s castle coming into view. “I know I want to come back again. With you. On our honeymoon. Heck, I want to come back here as many times as possible! I’ve had too much fun running around singing Disney songs with you.”

You giggled, blushing at his words. You loved his eagerness and his excitement about life. He was like literal sunshine. “I want to come back too.” You sighed happily. “Even of people stare at us like we’re crazy.”

Hoseok chuckled.

Namjoon

The two of you spent a lot of time at Epcot, soaking up knowledge and fun facts about other countries across the globe. You expected that Namjoon would’ve liked that part of Disney the best.

You both walked leisurely whilst hand in hand, discussing the things you both found interesting. “You know,” you started, looking at Namjoon. “I think this might be my favorite place at Disney.”

Namjoon nodded and smiled. “Mine too. It’s fun yet educational.”

You giggled and began to swing your interlocked hands. “I thought you’d like the educational part of it.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, since you’re such a nerd and all.” You winked at him. You laughed when he scoffed, playfully pretending to be hurt at your words.

“Well, this nerd knows how to have fun too.” Namjoon grinned and you chuckled.

“I know! And besides, I think nerds are attractive.” Namjoon smirked at that. “Now come on, we have to go to Spaceship Earth!”

Namjoon allowed you to lead him along, happy to be spending a day with you at such a wonderful place like Disney.

Jimin

You had always loved the Disney princesses. As a child, you’d imagine yourself as one, pretending to live in their enchanted world where there was magic and dashing princes. You considered yourself one of the biggest fans of the Disney princesses, but after spending the day with your boyfriend at Disney, you realized that he was a bigger fan than you were.

“Babe,” Jimin grabbed your arm. “You have to take a picture of me with Snow White!”

You giggled. “You’ve taken a picture with almost every princess in the whole park, you know.”

“So?” Jimin quirked an eyebrow at you. He handed you his phone and walked toward where Snow White stood. She gave him a sweet, sparkling smile.

“What kind of pose should I do?” Jimin asked you. You shrugged.

“I don’t know. Just smile for the picture!”

Snow White posed for the picture, her form prim and proper. Her hands were clasped loosely yet delicately across her chest and her foot extended out with her toes pointed. Jimin didn’t know how to pose, so he copied her. You had to stare for a couple seconds because if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was the princess. You snapped the photo and extended his phone out for him to take.

Jimin looked over the picture. “Aw, cute! Thanks!”

“Look at you, Jimin. You’re a natural. I think they should hire you on as a princess.” You chuckled when you saw Jimin blush.

Taehyung

Taehyung spent most of the day looking through the lens of his camera. He was constantly snapping pictures of you doing every little thing - riding the rides, walking around the park, talking with the princesses, and even eating - and you wondered if he’d ever put the camera away.

“Tae, this is supposed to be a fun day at Disney, not a photoshoot.” You turned around to find him with his camera poised and ready to capture yet another picture. You rolled your eyes and you heard the camera ‘click’.

Taehyung looked back over the photo, seeming unbothered by your comment. “A picture of you rolling your eyes. This is definitely the most accurate pic of you.” He chuckled when you swatted at his arm.

“I’m serious,” you told him. “Let’s just enjoy the moment.”

“I am,” he replied. “I’m enjoying making pictures of my favorite person at my favorite place.” Taehyung took a moment to look away from his camera to smile at you. You blushed.

“Well, how about enjoying being with your favorite person at your favorite place in a way that’s not through the lens of your camera?”

Taehyung pursed his lips and looked up at the sky, mulling it over before shrugging. “All right, but you have to let me take one more picture, okay?”

“Tae...”

“One picture of you in front of Cinderella’s castle and I’m done.”

You sighed and relented, allowing him to whisk you away to where the large castle stood. He positioned you in front of the castle and smiled. “I want to keep the memories we made today,” Taehyung said sweetly, kissing your cheek before backing up to get a good shot.

You smiled both for the picture and for the fact that no matter what, you enjoyed spending the day with your amazing boyfriend.

Jungkook

You felt sort of cliché as you sat atop the ferris wheel that over looked all of Disney Land. There you were, with Jungkook, stuck up at the top as you gazed over the ground below that seemed to be light years away from your spot on the massive ferris wheel. The lights were vibrant as they contrasted the night sky. You giggled. You were literally living out a scene from a cheesy rom-com.

You saw Jungkook turn to look at you through your periphery. “What’s funny?”

You shook your head, smiling. “Nothing,” you said with a shrug. “This whole moment is very romantic. I mean, it’s just the two of us...stuck on a ferris wheel at night.”

Jungkook’s eyebrow quirked at that. “And?”

“It’s kind of cheesy.”

He laughed and you watched the way his nose crinkled like it always did when he was particularly tickled at something. “Oh, is it now? So I guess if I leaned in to kiss you right now, you’d think it’s too cheesy?”

You chuckled as he scooted closer to you. “You’ve got to do the thing first.”

“What thing?”

“That thing where the boy pretends to stretch and conveniently puts his arm around his date’s shoulders just to get their attention right before closing in for the kiss. Then it would be cheesy.”

Jungkook hummed as he nodded. “Okay then,” he said before scooting away from you.

You laughed at him, reaching for his arm to bring him close to you again. “Hey! Don’t move away!”

“What? I thought you didn’t want me to be cheesy.” He was teasing you.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. Now get over here and kiss me!”

Jungkook laughed as he stretched an arm over your shoulders, bringing you close before pressing a kiss to your lips.

It’s been 10+ years since I’ve been to Disney

#btscreatorsnet #kpopwonderlandtag #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts #bts army #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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redhairdontcare732 · 5 years

Text

Fangs Fogarty X Jones! OC

Author’s Note: Slight backstory, Jean Jones is the twin sister of one Jughead Jones. Oh, I also don’t own any characters except for her, nor do I own any picture/media used!

Jean’s POV:

“Girl, you’re delusional. Everyone can see the way that you two pine for each other except for you two airheads”, Toni groaned. My other friends nodded vigorously in agreement from their various spots in the student lounge. Cheryl was perched next to Toni on the loveseat they shared, Betty on the opposite end of the couch I sat on, and Kevin in a chair nearest to my end of the couch.

“I am so beyond tired of this discussion. There’s nothing left to say TT, Fangs does not see me that way! I’m so over you guys ganging up on me about this”, I snapped back. Ever since the Southside students had been moved to Riverdale High I not only had to deal with Toni’s incessant meddling into my relationships (or lack thereof) with one Fangs Fogarty, but now Kevin, Cheryl, Betty, and all my other northside friends had hopped on the bandwagon. When Jug and I found ourselves at Southside High, I was immediately drawn to the Serpent gang and was accepted much faster than my dopey brother. I clicked with all the young Serpents, but instantly found myself falling for a certain tall, dark, and handsome Serpent. Fangs and I were definitely closer than myself and any of the other gang, but to my extreme disappointment I’d never felt like he viewed me as anything other than a friend. I mean, he was naturally a very flirty person, and I was a notorious cuddle bug so it was only natural that I would end up in his arms or lap more often than not. Honestly, I pretty much ended up in everyone’s lap at some point, evidenced by the way my legs were draped across Betty’s lap at this very moment.The way he acted around me was no different than with any of the other young serpents. According to everyone else, he was just as obvious as I was with his “feelings”, but I think that they all just saw what they wanted to see. Confiding in Toni about my feelings was turning out to be the biggest mistake I'd ever made.

Thankfully, I was saved from whatever snarky comment Cheryl was clearly thinking up by Jug, Fangs, and Sweet Pea walking into the lounge. My friends knew better than to say anything in front of the boys, but for good measure I shot them all a death glare. The guys all settled in, greeting everyone; Jughead perched himself on the arm of the sofa Betty and I shared, giving her a quick peck in way of greeting. Sweet Pea sat on an empty chair near Toni and Cheryl (or as I called them, Choni), and Fangs took up the spot between Betty and I. I lifted my legs so that they were laying across the handsome boy’s lap instead, who responded by casually throwing an arm over my shoulder. Instinctively, I scooched in closer to him, finding comfort in his broad chest as his arm began to trace delicate circles on my bare shoulder.

“And how are my favorite people doing on this fine day?”, he asked, looking around at the group. I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies I felt bubbling up in my stomach at his gentle touch. I also avoided looking at any of my annoying friends; I didn't even have to look to know that they were giving me that stupid look. Everytime Fangs and I made any type of physical contact (which was often, given our personalities) they all sent the same smug look. It made me want to smack them. As if they knew everything about our friendship just because they were around. Please. Although, I found it difficult to be too angry when the guy I was secretly in love with was sitting so close to me and rubbing his fingers up and down my bare arm.

“Jean?”, I heard my twin speak up, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Mhm, yeah?”.

“I asked you if that's my flannel”, he stated simply, eyebrow raised. I looked down to the flannel I'd grabbed this morning and tried around my waist, and shrugged.

“Probably”, I replied, unfazed. Cheryl rolled her eyes.

“Classy”, she said teasingly as I felt the soothing vibrations of Fang's chuckle on my side.

“What? It was the closest shirt available. You guys know I don't do mornings”, I shot back good naturedly.

“Oh please, you wouldn't care what you wear regardless of the time of day”, Toni laughed. I giggled. It was true; I was notorious for my extensive collection of oversized t-shirts and ripped jeans, and I often could be found wearing my twin’s clothes (much to his annoyance). Today I was found in a pair of simple black leggings, a white oversized long-sleeved shirt, Jug’s flannel, and my favorite pair of old worn out converse hi-tops. I couldn’t care less about makeup, and my hair was thrown up in my usual messy bun with a bandana tied around my head in order to keep the mass of dark hair in place.

“It’s true Jean, I swear you couldn’t actually be bothered to pick clothes that were actually flattering if you tried”, Cheryl snottily replied with a strange spark in her eyes that I didn’t trust. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.

“Uhm, ouch Cheryl. That was kind of harsh”, Betty chided as Kevin nodded.

“Yeah, I personally love her personal brand of comfort chic”, he defended. I smiled at him, reaching across the space and grabbing his hand to squeeze.

“Thank you Kevie!”. Cheryl rolled her eyes once more before checking on her nails.

“Well, all I’m saying is you have a banging body, and I wish that you would show it off more”, she soothed. “In fact, I’ll bet you $100 that you can’t dress like you actually care for one week”. My eyes widened in surprise.

“You Northsiders are freaking nuts”, Sweet Pea commented, shaking his head. Fangs nodded from beside me.

“Seriously Cheryl. A hundred bucks just for changing her clothes? Why can’t you just let Jean wear whatever she wants?”, he asked , tightening his arm around me. My heart fluttered and I felt my face flush a little.

“I just want to see what it would look like if you actually put in effort. Obviously you are gorgeous either way”, Cheryl replied, not bothered in the least. “Also I truly don’t think that you could actually rise to the challenge”.

“Oh I absolutely can. I just don’t want to”, I practically spat, crossing my arms. Jughead snorted.

“I beg to differ sister dear. You practically live in my clothes, and I’m the only one here who actually has to deal with your grumpy ass in the mornings. There is absolutely no way you could go an entire week without rolling out of bed and leaving like ten minutes later” he challenged.

“Okay, super not appreciating you hopping on the bandwagon traitor”, I grumbled. “Also I had to share a womb with your fat head for 9 months, I think you can deal with sharing your shirts”. I felt Fang’s arms encircle me from the side and I snuggled further into his embrace gratefully.

“Don’t worry mamita, I think you look great everyday”, he whispered into my ear. I shivered involuntarily at his pet name for me, hoping to God that he didn’t notice.

“Okay, say that I did decide to take you up on your ridiculous offer. What kind of terms are we talking about?”, I countered. In all reality, Jughead and I could really use the hundred bucks given Dad’s current situation. Everyone thought that we were doing fine, but without an actual income things were getting pretty tight around the Jones household. Not that I’d ever admit that out loud to anyone other than Jug. Cheryl crossed her legs and placed her now folded hands over one of her knees, looking more like a business shark than any highschool sophomore had any right to.

“The terms are this: You have to come to school everyday with clothes that are actually yours, no stealing from your brooding brother or one of the other guys. Clothes borrowed from any of us girls are acceptable. No sneakers, no combat boots, no oversized anything. You have to actually style your hair, and you have to actually wear makeup, including lipstick, everyday for one week”, Cheryl rattled off. My jaw dropped.

“Jesus Christ, how long have you been thinking about this? That is way too many rules!”, I exclaimed. Cheryl returned to examining her nails, unbothered.

“Oh, and at least one of the days you have to wear a skirt”, she added. I leaned down, elbows on my knees, and narrowed my eyes once more.

“If I’m gonna go to that much trouble, I expect at least $200”, I countered. Cheryl leaned back in her seat, slightly considering. Suddenly, she stood up and stuck her hand out to me. I too stood and met her halfway across the space.

“Deal”.

“I have to say, I think this entire this is stupid, but I am pretty stoked to see this whole thing play out”, Sweet Pea chuckled. I flipped him off, smiling sweetly. Jug rolled his eyes.

“Of course you are, you don’t have to live with her”, he complained. I frowned at the two.

“Does no one have faith in me?”, I questioned looking around the group, met with averted stares and awkward silence. “Oh you guys suck! I can so totally do this!”.

The next day:

Okay this deal was officially going to be the death of me. As much as I really wanted that $200, sacrificing my precious sleep was not as easy as I had anticipated. I had to wake up a full hour earlier than I normally did, and there was no amount of coffee in the world that could counter such a travesty. Despite the fact that I felt like I was going to fall asleep at any moment, I couldn’t help but be proud of the outfit that I’d chosen as I shut down my bike and prepared to walk into school. After the terms were set for the bet I practically begged Toni to let me raid her closet, seeing as our styles were the closest out of all the girls. I loved Betty to death, but the girl’s clothes were a little too Leave to Beaver for my taste, a single piece of Veronica’s wardrobe cost more than my entire life so she was out, and there was no way I was going to Cheryl for help. To my slight surprise, I’d found plenty of outfits in TT's wardrobe however, my favorite of which I was wearing today.

My current ensemble consisted of a pair of my favorite pair of high waisted, ripped skinny jeans with a pair of fishnet tights underneath, a pair of black heeled booties, a black crop top, and a flannel (which was actually mine) tied around my waist for comfort. My waist-length raven locks were curled lightly, falling in waves around my face with half of my mass of hair tied up in a bun at the crown of my head. My makeup was pretty bomb if I do say so myself. I’d opted for a shade of burgundy eyeshadow that matched the deep matte lip I’d found with a winged liner. Though on the outside I’m sure I looked confident, in all reality I was kind of freaking out at the prospect of what everyone would say today. Cheryl’s bet was so public I was certain I would be subjected to all kinds of taunting and opinions from my friends. Mentally, I steeled myself for whatever comments were sure to be directed towards my sudden wardrobe change.

For all my mental preparation, I could never have predicted the reaction from my friends as I entered Riverdale High, coffee in hand. Betty and Jughead smiled lightly from their position near our lockers, silently supporting me. Bless them. Cheryl and Toni shot me smug looks from where they stood, Cheryl even clapping lightly in potentially mocking support (it was always hard to tell with her). Archie looked confused as always, and Veronica and Kevin appeared to be nearly drooling at the stark difference in my fashion choices. But by far the most surprising reaction came from the Serpent’s youngest dynamic duo. Sweet Pea and Fangs looked downright shocked to see me this morning, jaws dropped practically to the floor. I felt my face heat up marginally at all the eyes on me, but I maintained my nonchalant facade as I strode over to my friend group.

“Morning everyone”, I mumbled, tired. I wandered over to Kevin, wrapping my arms around his tall frame and leaning my head on his chest, eyes closing. He immediately began rubbing my back comfortingly.

“Tired this morning are we Jeanie?”, I heard him laugh from the confines of his strong arms. I turned around in his arms and leaned my back against his chest, groaning dramatically.

“We might as well start an IV of straight espresso into my veins”, I complained.

“Alright, if no one's going to say it I will. Jean looks fucking hot”, Sweet Pea, exclaimed looking around at the group incredulously. I felt my face blush furiously, but I rolled my eyes in a futile attempt to hide it. Fangs elbowed his best friend hard while glaring at him.

“Eww dude, that's my sister”, Jughead moaned, scrunching his nose in disgust. Betty, in turn, slapped his arm and threw him a pointed look.

“Don't listen to these Neanderthals, Jean, you look beautiful as you always do”, Veronica intervened. “Doesn't she look beautiful Archie?”.

Poor Archie still looked as confused as ever, but he straightened up when Veronica not-so-subtly pinched the ginger boys bicep.

“Uhmm yeah Jean, you look beautiful as always. It's just uh, different you know?”, he stammered while rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I mean...it's just uhm..”. I'd known Archie as long as Jughead, and I knew that whenever he was feeling awkward (which was literally all the time) he rubbed his neck like that. Deciding to save him from himself, I interrupted his rambling.

“Yes Arch it is different, because a certain red-headed syrup heiress decided that if it's different enough it apparently is worth $200”, I said while smiling not so sweetly at Cheryl. “But honestly guys, it makes it pretty difficult to visualize my well-earned winnings with you staring like that. So can we please go back to our daily lives and leave my clothing choices out of it?”.

Sweet Pea opened his mouth to respond just as the first bell rang out through the halls. I smiled with victory as I held out my arm for Fangs so we could walk to our first period class together like we did every morning. Today though, he seemed out of it and took a few extra seconds before snapping out of whatever was holding his attention and linking his arm through mine. Seeing his dazed expression I frowned and asked,

“You okay Fogarty? You seem out of it”. He looked down at me and threw me that megawatt smile that caused my insides to melt and my legs to turn into jelly.

“I'm fine mamita. Now come on let's get to English”, he replied. He squeezed my forearm in reassurance, and we began our walk down the halls.

A few Days later: Day 6 of the bet.

“For the record, I've never thought you guys know what your talking about, but now I'm certain you're crazy. I mean he's barely even spoken to me all week for Chrissakes!”, I sighed exasperatedly. Once again my relationship with Fangs, or more accurately my lack thereof, was my irritating friends’ choice of conversation topic. Currently we sat in the lunchroom waiting for the other subject of this ridiculous discussion to arrive with his tall friend. I silently prayed that he would arrive soon and spare me from hearing any more of the gang's insane theories about his feelings.

“Please Jean, spare me the dramatic will-they-won't-they crap”, Veronica declared dramatically. “You're too smart for that, and besides Fangs hasn't taken his eyes off you all week”. I wrinkled my forehead in disagreement, ready to tell her exactly where she could stick her bougie New York opinions, but before I could open my mouth to speak Betty interrupted gently.

“Seriously Jean, he normally can't tear his eyes off you but in the last week it's like he's got them practically glued to your face”, she interjected. I shook my head; now I knew the girls were clinically insane. Normally Fangs and I hung out often, both in school and out, but for the last few days the raven-haired serpent had been notably absent from my side. I don't know what I did to piss him off, but I figured whatever it was that I should give him some space to work through it before confronting him. Not gonna lie though, I missed his goofy personality and stupid jokes. I hoped that whatever problem he had with me would sort itself out soon, because I was really starting to miss my best friend.

“Guys I'm seriously as over it as a person could possibly be with this discussion. For the last fucking time, just drop it”, I practically hissed. Never one to back down, Veronica opened her mouth to respond, but thankfully the boys came and sat down at our table before she could get anything out.

“Hey Jean, last day of torture. You excited to go back to dressing like a sloth again”, Sweet Pea teased as he took the open seat next to me and Fangs the seat across from me. Dishearteningly, I received only a simple nod from Fangs before he turned his attention to his lunch. Shaking off my extreme disappointment I shoved Pea lightly.

“Shut up Sweets, you're just jealous that I met you and got to know your real self before you knew how hot I was”, I taunted back grinning. He smirked back playfully.

“There's always time doll”, he joked and winked at me. I full on laughed at his stupidity, while Jughead walked up behind him and smacked the back of his head before taking the seat next to Betty.

“Man for the last time, quit saying shit like that about my sister. Especially during lunch, people are trying to eat”, he whined. I shot him a look and motioned to Betty.

“I'm on it”, she said before smacking him upside the head. I nodded in appreciation and Jughead glared at his girlfriend and I.

“First of all, you're a moron Jones. And secondly, your sister is hot so learn to deal with it. At least I'm kidding, she's been getting looks all week and I'm sure they aren't being all gentlemanly about their thoughts either”, Sweet Pea said plainly. I felt my face blush lightly at his comment. It was true, for the past week I'd gathered much more attention from guys than I was used to. I wasn't oblivious to the looks I'd received in the past few days, and truthfully I was more than ready to leave their wandering eyes behind when this whole thing was over. Today was particularly bad seemingly, and I was willing to bet anything that it had to do with the outfit I was wearing. It was the second to last day of the bet, and I begrudgingly decided to wear the skirt Cheryl had included in the rules. I wore a simple black pleated skirt, fishnet tights underneath, with a white v-necked white long sleeve shirt and a pair of Toni’s knee high heeled combat boots. I’d figured out on day 3 or so that Cheryl found my naturally wavy curls acceptable as long as I added some defining gel and made it look like I’d actually combed it, so today my waist length hair was all on full display. My makeup was similar to the rest of the days: winged dark eyeliner, minimal bronzer/highlighter, and a dark burgundy matte lip. I’d put this day off until nearly the end because I didn't have a single skirt in my wardrobe and had to borrow one from Toni. Problem was, I was significantly taller than the pink haired serpent, and the skirt rode up my thighs much more than hers. I subconsciously shifted in my seat to futilely attempt to pull my bottoms down a smidge. My attempt did not go unnoticed by Veronica's eagle eyes and she smirked my way.

“Calm down girl, your outfit is fine. Good lord you'd think you've never worn a skirt in your life”, she said with an air of exasperation. I flipped her off daintily, smiling innocently in her direction. Sweet Pea and Betty laughed, while Jug simply shook his head and took another gigantic bite of his burger.

“Well not that I'm not loving this debate over my appearance, but I'm gonna go. I've gotta meet up with Kevin to talk about our history project”, I stated, standing up to leave. As soon as I turned to leave I found my face jammed into a hard chest, causing me to stumble backwards a bit. I looked up to see the smug face of one Chuck Clayton looking down at me with a look like a cat that caught a canary.

“Hey there Jean, looking fine today. Loving the new look”, he practically purred, looking me up and down. I physically gagged in response. He had been one of the worst of all the guys that had suddenly taken notice to me this week.

“Fuck off Clayton”, I spat. I moved to push past him, but he blocked my path with his arm.

“Woah woah, no offense princess. Just wanted you to know how much we all appreciate the looks you've been serving this week”. His attempts at flirting were becoming more aggressive as the days went on. He was so pathetic; he would've never debased himself to speak to me before, so the fact that he was now so relentless in his pursuit of me was utterly disgusting to me.

“Screw off Chuck, she's not interested”, I heard Betty snarl from behind me. My friends were evidently feeling much like me. Sweet Pea had turned and stood next to me in a protective stance with his arms crossed, Betty and Jug looked as disgusted as I'm sure I did, and even Fangs had looked up from his lunch to glare menacingly at Chuck. My heart lurched at the darkness swirling in his normally chocolate brown eyes and the way his strong jaw was clenched tightly. It was nice to know he still cared, even with the unfortunate circumstances.

“What's the matter Cooper, finally realizing that you missed out on all this action?”, Chuck replied, unfazed.

“I think I heard my sister tell you to fuck off Clayton, I'd listen to her if I were you”, Jughead growled from across the table. Normally my twin preferred to let me fight my own battles, because let's be honest he wasn't exactly the tougher of the two of us, but I knew he was still not over the whole Chuck and Dark Betty fiasco from our birthday. I turned towards him to give him a reassuring look, but as I did I felt a hand creep up my skirt and cup my ass tightly.

Skin crawling, I whipped around and found Chuck's remorseless face looking at me with his lip caught between his teeth. I cocked my arm back to take a swing, but before my fist connected with Clayton's someone else beat me to the punch. Literally.

“DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER”.

Fangs was all over Chuck, punching him repeatedly and screaming. Chuck was on the ground, Fangs on top of him, and the two rolled around hitting and shoving one another. I'd never seen Fangs like this before, he was almost scary in his intensity. Shocked, I stepped forward to try and break them up.

“FANGS, STOP! CHUCK GET OFF OF HIM”, I yelled helplessly. Sweet Pea grabbed my arms as I made a move to try and pry the two off of one another. He shook his head.

“No, let them go. This has been brewing for a long time”, he muttered. I gaped at the tall boy.

“No, are you kidding me?! He's gonna hurt him and they're going to get suspended!”, I shouted, struggling against Pea's vice grip. As I struggled, I saw Weatherbee enter the cafeteria, making a beeline for the two boys. I managed to wrangle my way out of Sweet Pea's hold and attempted to grab Chuck away from Fangs. As I got my hands on his arms, he reared his fist back and I felt all the breath rush out of my body when his elbow caught me in the stomach. Doubled over, I heard a number of voices swimming around me. Weatherbee's angry demands, Veronica and Betty's frightened voices, and Chuck's irritating excuses. But most of all, I heard a low, soft voice in my ear frantically trying to get my attention.

“Mamita, are you okay? Jeanie?”, Fangs soothing baritone hurriedly questioned. I leaned on his strong shoulder and his arm found my waist. I looked up to his gorgeous face and was immediately horrified to find that he had a large bruise blossoming under his right eye. His eyes were wild as they searched mine scanning for any signs of injury and he still hadn't fully caught his breath. In any other scenario I might have swooned at his fierce features. I brought my fingers gently to his cheek, eyes swimming with tears that I refused to let fall.

“Your eye…” , I murmured as he brought his hand up to grasp mine against his cheek, deep mocha eyes boring into mine. He looked as sad as I'd ever seen him and I felt my heart break nearly in two at the sight. The deeply distressed expression didn't belong on his normally cheerful, handsome face.

“Mamita..”, he softly began to reply.

“Clayton, Fogarty, Jones, my office. Now”, Weatherbee demanded while walking out of the cafeteria and down the hall. Steeling myself for whatever consequences were coming our way, I straightened up and grabbed Fangs hand as we followed Weatherbee. I internally hoped that he wouldn't pull away from me like he had for the past week; after all that just happened I don't know if I could deal with the total rejection of my best friend. I really needed him in my life most days just to make it through in this nightmarish town we called a home, but in this moment I needed him more than ever. Thankfully, Fangs seemed to be on the same page as me. His strong, rough hand gripped mine tightly, almost as if he were afraid if he let go I may disappear. I squeezed his hand in reassurance and nodded curtly as we found ourselves standing in front if the principal's office. Weatherbee motioned at Fangs.

“Alright Mr. Fogarty, you're first, step into my office”, he barked. Fangs squeezed my hand near painfully, and his other hand balled into a fist as he shook his head.

“No way I'm leaving her out here with that asshole”, he practically growled. I cast my eyes downward, heat rushing to my face. I was so worried about Fang's well being that I had nearly forgotten why he was even fighting with Chuck in the first place. Bile rose to my throat and my jaw clenched tightly as I remembered the feeling of his hands on my ass, and I whipped my head suddenly towards Chuck. Judging by the way he slightly recoiled, the disgust and anger I felt was apparent on my face. Fangs brought me back down to earth by rubbing gentle circles on my hand with his thumb. Weatherbee seemed to consider Fangs’ outburst for a moment before relenting.

“Very well. Ms. Jones, Mr. Fogarty, in my office please”, he sighed.

Once we were all settled in and seated, Weatherbee folded his long fingers together in front of himself and leaned forward on his desk.

“Well Mr. Fogarty, what do you have to say for yourself?”, he questioned. Fangs looked down at our still intertwined fingers for a brief moment before answering.

“Clayton was harassing Jean sir. I had to step in before anything else happened”, he stated carefully, his face becoming an emotionless mask.

“Harassing?”, Weatherbee repeated. “And you felt like the answer to that was violence?”.

As I listened to Fangs being lectured, I internally wondered if his nonchalant facade was the result of many interactions like this one with authority figures over the years. As I faintly heard Weatherbee and Fangs speak I felt a wave of sadness and guilt wash over me. Fangs was in this situation because of me and that stupid bet that I had made with Cheryl; I felt tears spring to my eyes at the realization that he would likely be in more trouble than either Chuck or I. Weatherbee wouldn’t care how he stood up for me, or how perverted Chuck was. All he was going to see was the jacket he wore and punish him based solely on that. My hands balled into fists, and I stood abruptly.

“Principal Weatherbee, none if this is on Fangs. Chuck grabbed me inappropriately, and basically assaulted me. Honestly, if Fangs didn't step in I would have done much more damage to him. What he did was disgusting, and Fangs was just defending me against that pervert!”, I exclaimed loudly. “I hope Chuck gets expelled for what he did, but at the very least you should let Fangs go, because not one bit of this is his fault!”.

Fangs and Weatherbee looked at me, surprised by my sudden outburst. Fangs had an expression on his face that I couldn't quite place as he peered up at me from where he still sat. His tanned features displayed emotions something akin to amazement, and truthfully, if we weren't currently under interrogation from our school's principal I would probably have grabbed his gorgeous face and kissed him. Thankfully for me, we were in the presence of the man doling out punishments and I would be spared the awkwardness of explaining to my supposed best friend why I was aggressively making out with him.

“Is that true Mr. Fogarty? Did Mr. Clayton touch Ms. Jones inappropriately without her consent?”, Weatherbee asked. Fangs was still staring up at me with that beautiful look, not hearing a word Weatherbee said. I elbowed him lightly.

“Uhm yeah, basically that's what happened. But it wasn't Jean's fault sir. Clayton is the one who should be punished”, he said quickly after shaking his head like he was clearing his thoughts. Weatherbee leaned back in his seat as he looked as if he was actually. considering what we'd said. My heart raced as he rubbed his face in thought; I know our principal wasn't exactly perfect, but I hoped to every deity I could think of that he was smart enough to see what had truly happened. After what felt like an eternity, Weatherbee finally spoke up.

“While it's very… noble of you to defend Ms. Jones's honor, I'm sure you know that we don't condone violence here at Riverdale High”, he started while looking at Fangs. “I will punish Mr. Clayton accordingly for what he did, but you cannot expect me not to reprimand you for your role in what occurred either. So, Mr. Fogarty you will serve one week of after school detentions starting today”.

Fangs nodded, and I felt myself let out a breath I didn't know I was even holding.

“As for you Ms. Jones, I want to assure you that Mr. Clayton will be suspended for his actions. I encourage you to let me or another staff member know if anything like this happens again or if you feel in anyway unsafe here”, Weatherbee continued while turning his attention to me. “If Mr. Clayton continues this kind of behavior, I won't hesitate to get law enforcement involved”.

I nodded, thankful for Weatherbee's sudden outpouring of good judgement. He dismissed us from his office and Fangs and I walked quickly away and out to the halls. Once there, Fangs pulled me back by my hand, which I hadn't even realized he was holding until now. He gently brought his hands to my face and his deep brown eyes scanned my face once more.

“Mamita, are you sure you're fine? I mean, he didn't hurt you did he? I swear, I'll kill him if you're hurt”, he seethed. I brought my hands up to my face, covering his much larger ones.

“Fangs I'm fine, I swear”, I promised. I looked deeply into his darkened eyes, trying to convey my sincerity through my own eyes. He seemed to consider my words for an eternity before he sighed in relief and brought his forehead to rest on mine.

“Okay”, he murmured. Butterflies running rampant through my stomach, I allowed myself the briefest moment of contentment before I brought my hand sharply up to his arm and slapped him. Hard.

“Ow. Jean what the hell?”, he whined rubbing his arm slightly. I glowered at him.

“Why on Earth would you do that Fangs? I could've handled Chuck just fine on my own, but no you had to go ahead and put yourself at risk. You know Weatherbee already hates the Serpents! You could've ended up being kicked out!”, I raged, glaring at the handsome teen in front of me. He frowned.

“Oh so what I'm just supposed to let him get away with groping you? Fuck that Jean, that asshole got what he deserved. Actually, you know what, no he didn't because I should have been kicking his ass long before today”, he practically growled. “All week I've had to put up with his disgusting, repulsive comments about you and your body and I'm honestly not a bit sorry for what happened today. In fact, I wish Weatherbee would've shown up just a few minutes later so I could've gotten a few more swings in”.

“Who the hell cares what Chuck thinks? Everyone knows he's a pig!”, I spat back.

“I care! Okay? I do”, he seethed. “No one should be able to look at you like that, let alone make comments. Everyone knows that you're….”

He cut himself off abruptly, shaking his head and I raised my eyebrow.

“Everyone knows what Fangs? I mean I'm just as pissed at Chuck, but Sweets said that his has been ‘brewing for a long time'”, I said placing quotes in the air for emphasis. “I don't see what the big problem is!”. He huffed.

“The problem is that these stupid northsiders can't take a fucking hint. The problem is that I should be the only one who gets to look at you like that. The problem is that you're to god-damned hot for your own good, and I can't stand that everyone now suddenly sees you for the beautiful bombshell that you are before I…”.

My heart hammered against my chest like thunder as I took in his every word searching for answers. During his little rant Fangs had walked closer and closer to where I stood with my back against the lockers. Never one to back down, I stood firmly in place while I anxiously wondered if he could possibly mean what it sounded like.

“Before you what?”, I questioned breathlessly. His eyes widened, and he looked almost scared. It was like he hadn't intended for that last part to come out of his mouth, and he was desperately trying to find a way to shove the words back in. “Fangs?”.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot and hung his head down before muttering something I couldn't quite hear. I raised an eyebrow once more, utterly confused.

“What? I couldn't hear anything you just said”, I murmured. Fangs looked up at me with a heartbroken expression that left me reeling with the desire to comfort the normally upbeat serpent. He sighed and looked away before answering again in a slightly louder voice.

“Before I could figure out how to make you mine”, he said finally. I felt my stomach drop to my feet as I stood still as a statue trying to process what I was hearing. “I've been trying for months, racking my brain for anything that would give a dipshit like me a chance with a girl as badass, smart, funny, and completely fucking gorgeous as you, and I've come up short every time. Ever since you walked into the cafeteria at Southside High, I've been waiting for the right moment to confess how I feel to you, but I always end up chickening out. And then this whole bet fiasco started, and suddenly every guy could see what I've seen since day one: that you, Jean Marie Jones, are the single most beautiful girl in Riverdale. I couldn't take it and I'm so sorry that you found out this way and I'll completely understand if you don't want to speak to me ever again but please just…”.

By the end he was rambling, fumbling for words and tripping all over them trying to find a way to apologize. My heart lurched at the possibility that even after all of the events of today, and pretty much everyday since we met, everything would suddenly be lost if I let him continue. I felt more emboldened than I ever had, and I did the one thing I could think of to stop his rambling before he took back anything he said. A rush of confidence overtook me. Hands shaking slightly, I grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him into me, lips brushing together for the briefest of moments before I tore myself away.

My eyes were closed as I leaned backwards and I felt a rush of fear overwhelm me. What if I had completely misjudged the situation? What if he didn't want me that way? Oh God, what if I'd made the biggest mistake of my life and our friendship was ruined forever? I didn't have much time to worry however, because soon I heard Fangs breathe my name and I felt the sweetest sensation in the entire world.

Fangs smooth, strong lips were back on mine as he pressed me back into the row of lockers and kissed me with an intensity like I'd never felt before. I felt sparks of electricity in each spot where our bodies met, and I found my hands grasping at his strong, chiseled jawline as my lips furiously locked with his. I poured all the emotions that have been building ever since I met the handsome, sweet boy into our embrace. His hands roamed my hips and squeezed my body deliciously. I tugged at his thick, raven locks and he moaned into my mouth, causing my entire body to feel like it was on fire. His big hands gripped my waist tightly as his tongue teased the entrance of my mouth, begging for the entrance that I readily granted. Our tongues battled for dominance as our hands roamed each other's body, exploring the places that only our eyes were privy to before.

Though I felt like I could go on kissing Fangs forever and never tire of it, eventually oxygen did become an issue and I had to pull away from our heated session. Fangs appeared to be on the same page as me, and our foreheads met in the middle to lean against one another for support. I sighed in complete bliss, smiling as I caught my breath. I finally ventured a look to the beautiful man in front of me, and was elated to find that his face was a mask of utter peace. I'd thought his strong features were handsome before, but now I decided that there was nothing more stunning than the look he now wore. Gone was the tough, brooding serpent facade he put on for others, and gone too was the goofy, happy-go-lucky guy that I'd fallen for these past months. Fangs looked wholly, dare I say, happy. His deep brown eyes were alight with sparks of joy, his rugged jawline was relaxed, his plump lips still slightly red and swollen from our previous activities, and his sweet smile was one I'd never been blessed enough to see before. I vowed right then and there to do everything in my power to make him look this way as often as possible.

“So does this mean I get to say you're mine now?”, I questioned gently, a small part of me still fearful of rejection. Fangs chuckled breathlessly before placing a tender kiss to my forehead, and pulling me into a crushing hug. I settled against his broad chest as my heart crashed in anticipation, awaiting for his response.

“Mamita I have been yours since the day we met”, he murmured fondly into my hair. I sighed in relief, but pulled back after a few moments to look up into his eyes.

“So you think I'm the hottest girl in Riverdale?”, I questioned teasingly. His face flushed slightly at my words, but his eyes never wavered from mine.

“Mamita I think you are so much more than that. You're the kindest, smartest, funniest, and most genuine woman I've ever met. And yeah you're hot, but you're also the most gorgeous girl that I've ever laid eyes on”, he confessed softly. I felt my knees go weak and my stomach erupt in butterflies. Slightly embarrassed, I cast my heated cheeks downward in an attempt to conceal my blushing face. Fangs was having none of that, hooking gentle fingers under my chin to bring my face up to meet his loving gaze.

“That's part of why it was so hard for me not to kill all the asshole guys that were making comments about you this past week. I had to avoid you because there was no way I was going to be able to handle all the looks and whispers sent your way”, he continued. “The idea that they could trivialize all your worth and make it all about the way your ass looks in your new clothes or the way your chest was out on display was infuriating. You're worth so much more than your body, no matter how fucking sexy it is. And believe me mamita, I think you're really, really God-damned hot”.

“How did I get so lucky to find a guy as perfect as you?”, I pondered softly. I pecked his lips once more as a silent appreciation for his beautiful words.

“Please, I'm the lucky one Jeanie”, he replied quietly. I rolled my eyes.

“I can't believe this all started because of one of Topaz's freaking skirts. Maybe I should start dressing like this more often”, I joked semi-seriously. Now it was Fangs’ turn to roll his eyes. He placed an arm around my shoulder and we began walking down the hall towards our bikes.

“Mamita, I think you're hot no matter what clothes you choose. As long as these other guys get the message that they can look but not touch, I couldn't care less what you wear”, he stated confidently. “Although…”

He leaned down to speak to me closely, lips teasing the shell of my ear and making me shiver.

“... I wouldn't mind if you saved that skirt for just the two of us. After all, that damned skirt is the one that finally got me my dream girl”.

#fangs fogarty imagine #southsideserpents #riverdale #riverdaleimagine #jugheadjones #fangs fogarty #jealousy #fangs forgarty xreader imagine #fanfic #archie comics

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peachymilkis · 7 years

Text

Metamorphmagus (Hogwarts!Taehyung)

Imagine that Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks had a daughter instead of a son. And the daughter is placed in Ravenclaw. Now, what happens when this metamorphmagus runs into the notorious Hufflepuff Heartthrob?

Genre- Fluff/Angst

1//2//?

word count- 2.4K

“Yah, Y/N, calm down! Your hair is turning bright red!” Your good friend, Lily Potter, gently touched your shoulder, causing you to flinch and calm down. Your hair finally returning to its normal color. As you calmed, you noticed that everyone in Hogsmeade had turned their attention to you. “Shit. Let’s just go.”

You dragged Lily out of Hogsmeade and made your way back to Hogwarts. “I’m really fine, Y/N. It was just a stupid crush. I’ll get over it eventually,” Her voice quieted down.

“I hope.”

“Look, Lily. You’re my best friend. Of course, I’m pissed off right now! He knew you liked him and he played you. Jisung’s a fucking idiot.” You ranted, feeling more angered and annoyed as you talked and thought about Jisung making out with some Slytherin. You couldn’t help it, Lily was like a little sister to you. She was family. Her along with her brother, James, and her parents, who treated you as one of their own. Lily let out a small sigh and grabbed your hand into her slightly smaller one.

He wasn’t worth it anyway. I’ll find someone better.” She let out a cheeky grin, causing your mood to lift a bit, your hair turning a light shade of blonde. “Sometimes, I just wish I got my dad’s werewolf genes. My emotions show so easily with just my hair, it’s frustrating, really.” You both laughed and made the rest of your way towards Hogwarts.

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You hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before due to the fact that you had stayed up in the Ravenclaw common room all night, learning about muggle culture through a cellphone that your grandmother had brought you from the muggle world. You suddenly had a huge interest in muggle music and dancing. But luckily, you didn’t have much work to do and you had a free study period so you took the opportunity to take a nap in the library.

“Hyung, I can’t do this. I’m never gonna pass that Potions exam.” Hoseok groaned as he slammed his head against the wooden table. Taehyung let out a deep, breathy laugh. “Not if you keep slamming your head against hard objects. You’ll lose brain cells for sure.” Hoseok glared at the younger one. “It’s easy! Let me show you,” As Namjoon began to help Hoseok with his potion dilemma, Taehyung let his eyes roam through the vast library. His eyes immediately finding your sleeping figure a few tables away.

“Yah, Jimin. Don’t you know her?” Jimin looked up from his book and in the direction Taehyung pointed to. Jimin’s eyes squinted a bit, trying to get a more clear view of the sleeping girl. “Yeah, that’s Y/N Lupin. Her family is quite famous. Her father was Remus Lupin, a werewolf. And her mother was Nymphadora Tonks, a metamorphmagus. Her parents died when she was a month old. They were killed by a Death Eater. Rumor has it that she’s a metamorphmagus like her mother was.” Everyone at the table had quieted down to hear Jimin’s little summary of your life.

“Wait, Y/N’s a metamorphmagus? That would explain the different hair colors!” Jin nearly yelled out, causing you to flinch awake and look around the library to find out who made such a noise. The guys quickly acted normal but still peeked over towards you. Your hair becoming a lighter red in annoyance of your disturbed sleep.

“Whoa. Her hair changed color!” Jungkook whisper-yelled, his eyes as big as a frightened bunny.

Disturbed and unable to fall back asleep, you gathered your things and started walking out of the library. Without realizing, your face started resembling features of a cat as you glared at Mr. Filch’s cat, Mrs. Norris. You always had a hatred for that cat, as did the cat with you.

You realized as you heard a few gasps from students nearby that your face must’ve been transforming so you quickly ran out of the library and made your way into the nearest bathroom, which happened to be with Moaning Myrtle. Well damn.

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The next day, as you walked with Lily and James down the halls, you could hear whispers about you. Metamorphmagi are very rare so of course people would gossip. You let out a groan as you let your head drop down while you walked alongside the Potters. Not watching where you were going, your head collides against a strong surface, or more like a strong chest.

“Whoa, are you alright?”

You quickly look up and lock eyes with possibly the prettiest pair of eyes you’ve ever seen. Your face feeling like it’s heating up, you quickly look back down. “I’m fine, sorry., I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You internally panic as you see your hair started to change into a pinkish color. You quickly grabbed onto Lily and James and began walking away. Taehyung smiled softly as he watched you speed walk away.

“What the hell, Y/N! You bumped into one of the cutest guys in the school, yet you have no idea who he is?” You had practically infuriated your Gryffindor friend. “Look, Lily, he was surely cute but I’ve legit never seen him before.”

“Aren’t you partners with Park Jimin in Potions?” Lily suddenly asked. You let out a slow nod. “Yeah, what does he have to do with anything?” Lily sighed exasperatedly. “The guy you bumped into is Kim Taehyung! He’s one of Jimin’s best friends!” Your mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as you brain processed the information. “So he’s one of the two Hufflepuffs that are always around Jimin?” Lily nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!” You laughed at your friend’s behavior. “You do realize your father is practically one of the greatest wizards of all time yet you’re a huge ass loser, right?”

And that caused Lily to put a spell on your mouth to shut up.

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After the day you ran into Taehyung, you began seeing him and hearing about him more and more every day.

“Oh my God, did you see the way he ruffled his hair?”

“He looks like a Greek God.”

“His hair looks so shaggy and long, I want to pull on it.”

You rolled your eyes as you heard the girls behind you speak, your hair probably turning some green shade as you continued writing notes in Charms class. Coincidentally, you happened to be in Taehyung’s line of sight and would often catch him staring in your direction. You just figured he was zoned out. He seemed to look lost, almost like he was in his own little world the majority of the time.

You thought nothing of it and continued to write down your notes.

After class, you were on your way to find one of the another friend of yours, Victoire Weasley, but your destination was hindered by the girls who were drooling over Kim Taehyung earlier.

“Yah, Morphie.” You flinched at the nickname given to you but immediately put up a front of unbothered and annoyed. “May I help you?”

“Why was Taehyung staring at you in class? Did you lure him with one of your morphie tricks? Did you make yourself prettier just to get him to like you?” You scoffed at their assumptions, which lead into a fit of laughter. Your hair turned red from how subtly pissed you got. Your laugh immediately coming to a halt and your face wearing the most stoic expression it could muster.

“First of all, I’ve never spoken to Kim Taehyung. Second of all, I like the way I look enough so thank you very much. And third of all,” Your stare became so menacing, you watched as the girls cowered back a bit in fear. “Call me ‘Morphie’ one more time. I dare you.” Your face grew scales, your eyes becoming more snake-like as your tongue became that of a snake’s. You hissed at the girls and they immediately ran. Your face returned to normal and as if nothing had even happened, you continued your way towards your friend.

What you hadn’t noticed was that Taehyung managed to witness the entire encounter with a look of shock and adoration.

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“And she was all like, ‘Don’t ever call me Morphie again.’ And his face transformed into a snake-like face, It was crazy!” Taehyung had told his group of friends what he had encountered yesterday. All the guys seemed really into the story. Hoseok’s face immediately turning into one of pure horror at the mention of the word, snake.

“So those girls were trying to call out Y/N just because you spent the entire class period practically drooling over her?” Suga scoffed at his younger friend’s actions. “Girls are scary,” Jungkook stated with an almost terrified look on his face. The rest of the guys agreeing. “With the way Y/N defend herself, I’m surprised she wasn’t placed in Slytherin or Gryffindor,” Jimin said with a light chuckle.

The other guys agreed as well. “It’s because she’s freakishly smart. I hear that she even beat Namjoon Hyung during the last few recent tests.” Namjoon groaned. “We don’t talk about that!” The table was filled with laughter and joking around.

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Soon enough, winter break came and you managed to convince you grandmother to let you stay at the Potters’ home for the vacation. You always enjoyed staying with the Potters. One, because Harry and Ginny were your godparents so they treated you as a part of the family. And two, because Harry would tell you stories about your parents back in the day.

A week into the vacation, you noticed that a certain shaggy-haired, puppy dog-eyed boy lived a few houses down from The Potter household.

You had decided to take a walk and feel the fresh winter air nip at your face. As you walked down the street, you were suddenly hit with a snowball. You gasped at the sudden contact, not knowing where it came from. You looked to your left, which is where the hit came from and realized that someone was hiding behind a snow covered car.

Upon further examination, your eyes widened as the hair sticking out from the top became familiar. You immediately began walking away. Just as you were a few feet ahead, another snowball came in contact with your back. You internally groaned and turned around. You bent down to pick up some snow. You compressed it with your small hands into a ball and threw it in his direction. You landed a hit straight on his head. “Ow!” He groaned as he jumped up from behind the car. You took the opportunity to make another snowball and fling it at his chest. He came out from hiding, acting as if he had been shot. Your soft giggles filling the air as he dramatically fell to the ground, still clutching his chest.

“I have been shot. Oh, goodbye cruel world! I will enjoy a peaceful life… after.. m..y… d...ea..th.” And with that, he dramatically ‘died’ in style. Your giggles became full blown, stomach-hurting laughs, Taehyung swore he’d never heard something more precious.

Immediately after that, the two of you became close. You both hung out when you could and sent letters to each other in the middle of the night. You talked about anything and everything. You like that Taehyung was dorkier than he let out to be. And he loved that you were so kind yet confident when it came to protecting yourself. But soon enough, your break came to an end and it was off to school again.

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You decided to sit with Lily and Victoire during lunch in the Great Hall. You had told them about your encounter with Taehyung and how you two had become ‘friends’. Was it safe to say that? You never really established what kind of relationship the two of you had become.

Taehyung had as well told his friends about his encounter over the break with you. They were all ecstatic. “You should invite her to sit with us!” Jin exclaimed happily as he realized you were nearby. Taehyung’s cheeks immediately reddened. “N-no she looks comfortable over there with her friends. She might not want to sit over here.” The boys exchanged knowing looks.

“Hyung has a crush on Y/N~!” Jungkook sing-songed a little too loud for Taehyung’s liking. HIs face and ears reddened even more. “No, I don’t!” He exasperated. “Then invite her to sit over here,” Yoongi stated with a smug grin on his face. Taehyung groaned yet he was still hesitating.

“Ya Y/N!” You were surprised to hear your name being called as you looked up and saw that it was Park Jimin. He seemed to be waving you over. Your eyes widened slightly as most people turned their attention towards you. You excused yourself from your two friends and hesitantly walked over.

“Hey, Jimin, long time no see.” You decided to act normal as you made it to the table. You glanced at Taehyung to see him looking down, his ears were poking out of his hair and you could tell they were tinted a bright red. Jimin smiled his infamous eye smile that had the girls all swooning.

“Yeah, how have you been? We heard you had befriended this puppy over the vacation.” Jimin said, in a tone that was almost teasing. Taehyung finally looked up shyly and smiled at you. “Hi Y/N.” You giggle, your own cheeks dusting pink. “Hi, Taehyung-ah.” The guys at the table giggled. You realized your hair was turning a light pink color again and you tried your best to calm down your emotions. “A-anyway, we were wondering if you wanted to sit with us? Maybe? I mean, you don’t have to. We were just wondering- if you know, you wou-” You cut off Taehyung’s rambling with a short, ‘I would love to’, which had him just as flustered.

You still couldn’t believe that the entire school thought of him as a cool guy heartthrob.

this is just part 1 so i hoped you enjoyed and please tell me what you think of it!

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as-be-low · 7 years

Text

Time Has Changed Me, Chapter 2

What Sleep Can Come?

I wake in dreams, a route with vision Poorly end of made decisions Of the fears I'd slain that now have risen With such unrest what sleep can come? Such Unrest—Brown Bird

Stanford Pines fidgeted with the pen in his hand, twirling it between his fingers as his other hand gripped his hair. He couldn’t believe it. He’d found Stanley. Or rather, his mother had done so after he’d broken down and called the woman after who knows how long, but those details were unimportant. He’d been trying to contact his brother off and on for years with no success. He’d looked through countless records and found nothing on Stanley for over a decade. Save for a few mentions of convictions and various bench warrants from years prior, his contacts in the shadow government had even come back empty-handed. It was as though he’d stopped existing altogether. For a long while, he’d been certain his brother had died.

That probably would have been my fault, had it been the case. No, that was wrong. If Stanley had just listened to him, then none of this…unpleasantness would have ever happened.

Regardless, you were still the one who pushed him through.

It had been an accident.

Accident or not, it changed nothing. Hadn’t he been the one to say that before? Stanford had sent his brother into a realm of unimaginable horrors for three long years, and it was up to Stanford to make it up to his brother, even if it was almost six years later.

We’re probably even, as it stands. The ugly part of his mind offered. He squashed that thought with a grimace. Ford doubted they’d be even for a while yet. The nightmare realm couldn’t have been a walk in the park. It couldn’t have been that bad for him if he agreed to come back. Fiddleford was only there for a few seconds, and we haven’t spoken since.

“Oh, shut up.” He growled to the empty room. He wished he could’ve gotten rid of his conscience too when he out in that metal plate. He’d gotten rid of the dream demon, but it seemed like his personal ones were there to stay.

Ford didn’t have time for this nonsense. His brother had called him—actually called him—and agreed to come. This time, he wasn’t going to let things go sour. The portal was gone—every single bit of it had been destroyed—and he’d managed to contain and dispose of the rift he’d creating upon restarting the damned machine.

This time, he was going to do his best to make amends. He’d make sure he did. Starting that night, Ford would begin to clear out his guest room, which currently served as extra storage for various experiments. The entire house had become extra storage space for his equipment, if he were honest with himself. After taking care of the rift, he’d thrown himself headlong into everything he could. He had a stack of papers waiting to be published that would probably last him the rest of his life. Anything to keep his mind elsewhere.

Anywhere but the dazed, haunted look in his brother’s eyes when he finally stumbled back through to home. Anywhere but the resigned look of disappointment he’d worn, followed by the look of confusion that appeared a few days later. Stanley had kept his head down and his mouth shut, and, only a few days later, had hopped into the Stanleymobile and left. It was disconcerting for Ford to suddenly feel this level of concern for his brother. It had become near impossible for Ford now to not know where his brother was and to remain unbothered. He’d assumed his brother was fine before. He couldn’t tell himself the same lie anymore. Stanley was not okay. He couldn’t be, and, as much as it pained him to admit, he hadn’t been okay before. Not for a long time. Ford had gone through his brother’s sparsely filled duffel bag and the Stanleymobile after he’d…disappeared. There was nothing in that car wasn’t worn out, and judging by the sheer amount of trash he’d found stuffed under the seats, he’d had to have been living in it. He could only hope with a sharp pang of guilt that Stanley had managed to turn everything around once he got back home. He was resourceful. He had to have managed it.

Resourceful isn’t living out of a car.

“Shut up.”

Your brother was homeless for ten years, and he’s likely been homeless for ten more. Ford wanted to be sick. He haphazardly began tossing items into boxes, not caring if they entered with a crack. Everything would go right for once, and he’d damn well make sure of it. Fate could go fuck itself.

≈

Not for the first time that day, Stanley wondered why he was going through with this. He could easily just go on past Oregon, or turn around and wind back around towards New Mexico—no, he had a warrant out there. Maybe northern California. His expression soured. The entire state seemed to have lost its appeal after he ran into (and lost) Carla again. He guessed the child in the backseat was as good a consolation prize as any, though.

The child in question was idly kicking her legs back and forth while trying to look out of the backseat window—she was too short to see anything but blank sky. Granted, that was probably the most interesting part of this dull view, but she wouldn’t have known that.

“You holding up back there?”

“Yeah.” She hummed, still straining her neck to see. For a three-year-old, she was remarkably mellow. How was she so calm and patient? Stanley was pretty sure that wasn’t normal. He’d never been able to sit still like she did when he was her age. Granted, when he was her age, he’d had beaches and boardwalks and a small, cramped apartment to explore. Large though it was, she could only move so far in the backseat of the Diablo.

Maybe she would’ve been better off with Carla and whoever she was with now. His grip tightened on the wheel. Carla hadn’t wanted her or him either. If he hadn’t begged and pleaded and promised to take her, she wouldn’t even exist, most likely. With him, they at least had each other even if he was ruining her and they only had each other and and and that was better than her being nothing but what if it wasn’t? A frustrated hiss brought him back to his senses and he was surprised to realize that the noise was coming from his own mouth.

“It’s you and me against the world, Stella Pines.” He mumbled, glancing up into the rearview mirror to see a little grin directed his way. “You and me against everyone else.”

The closer the pair got to Gravity Falls, the more certain Stan became. He was certain this was a bad idea and that he should turn around. That he just had to swerve to miss a three-headed deer was only the icing on the cake.

“Fuck this town,” he whispered under his breath, ignoring the soft giggling behind him.

“You’re not s’posed to say bad words, Daddy.”

“Yeah, well, you’re supposed to be asleep. It’s nearly eleven.”

“You jus’ spun the car ‘round, like, a lot! I can’t sleep through all that and a really weird goat. Unless I dreamed the goat.”

“You definitely dreamed the goat.” Stan bluffed. Shit, had it been a goat? Knowing this town, it was probably both.

He eased the car onto the shoulder and leaned back against the headrest with a sigh. “Well, Daddy’s tired and he’s gonna take a breather for a minute to stretch his legs. You should try to go back to sleep, pumpkin.” He turned and stretched, his back popping as he looked into the dim backseat. His little girl’s eyes were already drooping.

“Eew! But what if the goat comes back?”

“If there was a goat, which there isn’t, I’d punch it.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

Stan chuckled. “Go back to sleep, honey.”

“ ‘Kay.” Stanley waited for her eyes to close and her breathing to even out before unfolding himself up and out of the driver’s seat and into the brisk night air. He was getting too old for this, he mused as he fumbled in his jacket pocket for a stale cigarette. Once lit, he took a long, slow drag, holding it in for a few seconds before letting out a shaky exhale. This entire situation was fucked less than desirable. Here he was, a few miles away from his brother’s house and surrounded by whatever that…thing just was, and just as unwilling to stay here with it as he was to actually go and see his twin. The twin who hadn’t wanted to see him last time, not really, but who’d apparently changed his mind, if his mother was to be believed. She probably wasn’t. Not really. Ford either, probably, since he’d sounded so strange over the phone.

A semi truck chose that moment to barrel past the Stanleymobile, missing Stan by what felt like inches. It was decided. They wouldn’t be staying here to get knocked off of the shoulder. They’d head the rest of the way to Ford’s tonight. He only hoped he’d be able to find his way in the dark. His high beams were out. Stanley flicked the spent cigarette butt out onto the cold asphalt and watched it splutter out before sliding back into the car.

“Devil you…don’t know anymore, versus the devil you know even less.”

It was a little past midnight, he supposed, when Ford heard a spluttering engine and the unmistakable sound of tires on gravel outside his kitchen window. He was suddenly glad he’d picked the kitchen to finish up some writing in (though, with his study packed full of his excess experiments, he really had no choice). He jumped up from the table, banging his thigh in the process, and headed for the front door, pausing. Should he open it now? Maybe it was better to wait for Stanley to knock first. Or maybe it wasn’t Stanley, but some lost traveller—

Ford heard the muffled slam of a car door, followed by the creak of the wooden stairs, and, in his haste, yanked the door open while his brother was mid-knock. Mid hesitant knock, Stanford noted.

“Stanley.” He breathed, suddenly winded. His brother’s hair had grown mangy and long, a far cry from the short-cropped buzz he sported when he’d seen him last. The unkempt mane seemed to have a life of its own, and was determined to break free from whatever he’d pulled it back with to fall into his face.

“I, uh. I see you’re still up, since you’ve got yer lights on, and all.” His brother mumbled as he shifted from foot to foot.

“I—Yes! Come in, come in!” Ford reached out to usher Stanley inside, but froze when the man recoiled backwards.

“Wait” Of course. Of course he wouldn’t want to touch him, he—

“I…I need ta get… something out of the car first.”

“…Yes, o-of course.” Though he tried to hide it, Ford found himself feeling lost. What could he need from his car that he didn’t already have on him?

Try his belongings, you knucklehead. But Stan didn’t look like he had anything else. If anything, he looked more tired and ragged than the last two times he’d seen him. His eyes tracked Stan helplessly as he watched him unlock the car and climb into the backseat, and again as he carefully re-emerged with a lumpy bundle in his arms, messily wrapped in what looked like an oversized blanket. Ford’s heart sank. He’s been living in his car again. Does he not have a bag? No he left the one here when he left, it’s probable that he didn’t come across another one—

Stan was directly in front of him and shifted the lump in his arms. “I uh, wasn’t quite sure what kid of welcome I’d get this time, and, well…”

Ford’s shoulders slumped. “Stanley, I’m sorry—”

“Could we move inside? Kinda cold out here.” Stan cut him off firmly. He looked somewhere beyond irritated, Ford noted with rising dismay.

“Right. Yes. I… Sorry.” Ford stepped back to let his brother pass through the threshold.

“Yeah, well. Anyways…” Stan looked around uneasily, his eyes scanning the cabin for anything peculiar. He’s probably wondering where I stashed the next monstrosity to get trapped in. Ford thought glumly, folding his hands behind his back.

Stan let out a tired, heavy sigh and glanced down at the makeshift bag in his arms—he’d need somewhere to set it down, of course, I—before speaking.

“Anyways,” he gestured Ford closer with a jerk of his chin. “I know you were just expectin’ me, but I got somebody I dragged along I figure you should meet, or whatever.” Ford’s eyes widened.

“Stanley, is this—”

“Go ahead.” Ford slowly, carefully, lifted the edge of the blanket. Pressed against Stan’s chest was a sleepy little face, which quickly scrunched up in annoyance and turned, trying to block out the light. Ford was dumbfounded. He’d never expected this. This was a baby. His brother had a baby. When did his brother have a baby?

“Where did you get a child?” Stan’s neutral expression quickly darkened.

“The Sears mail-order catalog. Where does anyone get a kid?”

“Stanley, I’m serious—”

“Her name’s Stella, thanks for asking.” Stan rolled his eyes, jaw set. Ford had the decency to look sheepish.

“Stella…Pines?”

“Of…What else would it be?”

“You decided to keep the S-name tradition going?”

Stanley frowned and hefted the little girl closer to his chest. “Hey, Stella’s a good name!”

“Daddy, you’re too loud. B’quiet, 'kay?” She fussed, causing Stan to pause and smile down at the top of her head.

“Sorry, sugarplum. Daddy’ll be quiet.” He whispered against her fuzzy curls. It was hard for ford to think of the word “daddy” applying to his brother, but his brother seemed pleased enough that it did. He suddenly felt uncomfortable watching their interaction and stood, stunned silent for a few uncomfortable moments.

“I—you probably want to but her to bed, I’ve set the guest room up for you, you—”

“Daaaddy, you saaid.” The little voice whined. Stan’s eyes lit up with mirth as they turned back downwards.

“Daddy’s sorry, baby. He’ll try harder, okay?”

“ ‘Kay.” Ford blinked. Wordlessly, he made his way upstairs, vaguely aware of the heavy footsteps trailing behind him. He flicked on the light switch and let his brother inside, watching the haggard man gingerly place his child onto the bed, smoothing blanket out around her. In this light, Stanford noticed how dingy it was. The little girl stretched out and yawned while his brother planted another kiss on her brow, lingering before moving back to him. Stanford didn’t notice the look he shot back at her over his shoulder as Stanley followed him back downstairs and into the kitchen.

“So… I guess I’m allowed to talk now.” Stanley let out an uncomfortable chuckle. Ford wasted no time in interrogating him.

“You have a daughter.

“I have a daughter.”

“I’m an uncle.”

“You’ve been an uncle, Poindexter.”

“I have a niece.”

“Yes, you do. Look, Poindexter—”

“I have a niece and Ma didn’t even tell me. You didn’t tell me—“

“Ma didn’t tell you because she doesn’t know, and I plan on keeping it that way.”

“You didn’t tell me, though.”

“Oh, what, was I supposed to work it into our weekly casual conversations?”

“Lee, that’s not—”

“Not what, Ford? Fair?” Stanley slumped back against his chair—when had they sat down?—and closed his eyes in an attempt to lower his hackled. “Life ain’t fair. I’ve learned that.”

“You left.” Ford couldn’t keep the accusation out of his tone.

“I had to, it’s not like you’d understand—”

“Then make me understand it, Stanley! I finally get you back for you to just...leave unannounced one day, and the next time I see you, you have a baby?! And you told no one?

” Stanley groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he let his head loll back.

“Look. Ford. I literally just got here. I’ve been driving for hours. I’m tired as shit. I almost wrapped us around some weird ass deer on the way up here, or maybe it was a goat. Jury’s out on that.” Can we please, please wait to hash this out later?”

Ford swallowed thickly, trying to work the lump of shame out of his throat. “Right. You’re—you’re right. You must be exhausted. If-if you like, I can show you to the shower, I’ve got an extra set of pyjamas I could lay out—”

“You don’t have to do all that.” Stanley shook his head, his eyes unfocused as he stared off to Ford’s left. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I insist. In fact, I already did it.” He had already done it. He hadn’t remembered that he needed to buy groceries, but he’d at least done this one thing right. He heard his brother let out a low sigh.

“Alright, then. Fine. Thanks, S—Poindexter.”

Ford couldn’t help but smile as he led his brother down the hallway. “As I said, I’ve already laid out the pyjamas and towels you may need, they’re beside the sink…” He began to ramble, hoping to talk over the whispers of uncertainty clawing their way through his mind.

≈

Stanford slumped as his brother shut the bathroom door, leaning against the adjacent wall. He was tired. More tired than he’d felt in a long while. Granted, with Stanford Pines, a level of sleep deprivation was to be assumed, but this…emotional exhaustion was something he hadn’t felt in a long while.

That’s not true. He knew it wasn’t. He just hadn’t acknowledged that he had feelings. He worked them away instead. It was likely that he’d felt this way for a while now, but now he simply had no choice but to acknowledge it. What had his brother gotten into for the past… Holy hell, he still didn’t know what his brother had been up to for the past two decades. He looked ghastly. Granted, the man hadn’t been a figure of healthy living when he’d…reemerged, but he at least hadn’t looked so flat. His brother was dull. As if whatever it was that had once made the man vibrant, Stanley had lost or pawned it along the way. Though maybe it could still be paid off? Wishful thinking on Ford’s part. Too much time had likely passed, knowing his luck. He wouldn’t be getting that back.

He decided to take comfort in the rushing sound of water running through the pipes and down the drain. He had his brother here now, and things would get better—he could ensure that, now that the man was close-by. And his daughter, too, he reminded himself. Unless he doesn’t want me to. Of course he’d want him to help. It was only logical. But logic and Stanley never really got along. Besides, He’d left before, and he could leave again. He was going to leave, just when things were beginning to settle and Ford was beginning to think that maybe, given more time, things really could be resolved, and he would wake up once again with an empty house and a patch of yellowed, dead grass where a car once sat.

Stanford slid down, grabbing his fluffy curls in his fists. Why did he leave? All Ford had wanted to do was make things work, hadn’t he realized that? That’s exactly why. A spiteful part of himself chimed in. He had tried. He’d given his brother the space he’d seemed to need, had tried to coax him gently out of the shell he’d built around himself, and had tried to appreciate the other man. Ford had kept the Stanleymobile running in the little spare time he’d afforded himself, parked well out of the reach of Steve and had performed quite a bit of maintenance work the car had desperately needed though Fiddleford could have done it better, only for the man to hop up and disappear without so much as a by-your-leave. Stanley had been so…spiteful. Could Ford blame him, though? Ford would’ve liked to think that had their situations been revered, he himself wouldn’t have been nearly so standoffish. It was an accident.

It wasn’t his fault.

None of this was Ford’s fault. It couldn’t have been. Stanley left when they were seventeen, and what he did in those ten years leading up to…the accident had nothing to do with Ford. Whatever mess his brother had gotten himself into in that time, he’d done on his own. And as for that time, it all could have been avoided if Stan had just listened to him. Most of this could’ve probably been avoided if Stanley had stopped to listen, if Ford was being honest with himself. His brow furrowed into a scowl. His eyes had trailed to the crack between the closed bathroom door and the threshold and had lost focus as he lost himself in thought. He shook his mind clear and trudged off, dragging himself off to his own room. Whatever else he was thinking, Stan had been right. It could wait until later.

I did a thing! Again!

#fanfiction #Gravity Falls #reverse portal au #stanley pines #stanford pines #angst #single dad stanley pines #stangst #THCM

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