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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 5 months

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Everybody Hurts

Chapter 18

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Next chapter: 12/27

Word Count: 7.9K

Masterlist

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

The following Friday, you rode from school over to Trusty Transmission, the garage where Eddie worked. You’d never been there before but this morning, as Eddie snuck up behind you, arms around your waist and gentle kisses against your shoulder while you were getting your coffee for work, he’d informed you that your car would be ready and asked if you could stop after work to pick it up.

He seemed pretty excited about it and honestly, so were you. You loved riding with Eddie but it would be nice to have your own set of wheels, a sense of independence to go wherever you wanted without having to make a call and ask a favor. Your bike worked for anything in town while the weather was nice but if you wanted to head to the city for anything, you would need a car or a ride.

You caught sight of Eddie’s van as you hopped off your bike, placing it in the rack just to the side of the entrance. The building sported brown siding with a red roof, the name across the front in red as well, and multiple garage doors out front for cars to be pulled in for service. To the left was a parking lot where, you assumed, cars waited for their turn. Being the only mechanic shop in Hawkins, it had to do decent business, leaving no one any other option.

As you pushed open the door to a world of dirt and oil and metal, you were pleasantly surprised to see the garage was bright and clean. Large windows along the sides allowed plenty of natural light to cover the space as well as intense fluorescent lighting overhead. A car lift sat in the center and mechanics covered in black grease worked on cars throughout the place with a sense of productivity. A faint smell of oil hit your nose while the sounds of motors and tools echoed loudly throughout.

“Hey there, sweetheart, can I help you?” asked a man in dark blue coveralls, wiping his hands on a rag as he approached. He looked to be about fifty, salt and pepper dotting his dark beard and short hair. His name, Dave, was stitched in red across the front.

“Yeah. I’m actually looking for Eddie.”

Eyebrows rose up in interest, an amused smile crossing his lips, “Oh, so you’re her.”

“Sorry? I’m who?”

“Munson’s girl,” he grinned knowingly. “The one he’s putting in all that free time for. The little Honda is yours, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, heat warming your extremities. like sitting in front of a fire after hours in the cold, at being referred to as Munson’s girl. Did he talk about you like that at work? He had to have talked about you enough for this guy to think you were his girl.

“Man, he’s been working crazy hours to get that thing back in shape, staying long after his shift is over. You must be something pretty special for him to do all that work for free.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d see the day Eddie Munson finally settled down with one girl. I don’t know what the hell you’ve done to him, but it’s definitely for the better so keep it up, alright?”

“I…I’ll try,” you stammered. Had Eddie really spent hours working on the car? You’d just assumed it had taken so long because he’d fit it in where he could. Had it needed more work than he’d told you? You had never wanted him to give up that much time for you.

“Come on. Follow me,” Dave said, waving his hand and you trailed behind him, following him up to a black pick-up, familiar coverall clad legs with two black boots sticking out of the bottom. “Munson! You got a visitor!”

Fingers free from their usual chunky rings wrapped around the front bumper of the truck as he rolled out from beneath it. You were horrified when an audible whimper escaped from your lips at the sight of him. A black bandana was wrapped around the top of his head, smashing his bangs flat to his forehead, damp from sweat, the rest of his hair in a low bun to keep it out of his face while he worked. Grease stains, like strokes of paint crossed his cheeks. He was dirty and grimy and Jesus Christ, he was so damn hot. You wanted to pull those coveralls down and climb that man like a fucking tree.

“Prom Queen,” he grinned, catching sight of you, and you swore your heart would batter its way right out of your chest. “You made it!”

“Uh…yeah…I…I did…” you stammered. What the hell was wrong with you? You’d seen Eddie after work before. He often picked you up from school. But by that point, he had usually cleaned up, his hair was back down like usual, and the coveralls were gone. But for Christ’s sake, they were coveralls. They were literally called that because they covered it all so why were you so damn turned on?

“You wanna see it?” asked Eddie, hopping to his feet, eyebrows wiggling excitedly.

Yes. Yes you did, so goddamn much. Your eyes roved over his backside as he turned to set down the wrench and then pulled a rag from his back pocket, wiping his hands down before tucking it back in. Then this man had the audacity to undo the top buttons of the coveralls, dragging them down, allowing them to hang off of his waist before knotting the sleeves around the front.

“Fuck, it’s hot,” he muttered, the back of his forearm running across his forehead.

“Y…yeah…”

Eddie’s head turned slowly, a wicked smile curving his lips up on one side like a semi-colon when he caught you, panting after him like a dog in heat. You swallowed, surprised your tongue wasn’t hitting the floor. He stepped into you, invading your space with the tang of mechanical parts, the smoky aroma of the Camels he smoked, and the delicious damn musk that was just essentially him all the time.

Head tilting, his fingers grabbed onto a lock of your hair, working it between the pads, “See something you like, sweetheart?”

You nodded, “Very much.”

He chuckled, the sound like a shockwave straight to your center as he leaned in close, nose coasting along the skin of your cheek, lips tickling the shell of your ear, “Fuck, the way you’re looking at me right now, I want to kiss you breathless but I don’t want to get you all dirty.”

“I don’t mind dirty,” you whispered, eyes slipping closed.

“Mmm, that’s right. My girl likes to be dirty for me, doesn’t she?”

There it was again. His girl. The very sound of those words rolling off his tongue, his nose brushing your skin, did things to you that you could not begin to describe because they were things you had never felt before in your life. You considered yourself a feminist. You didn’t belong to anyone but yourself but fuck, when he said that, it was a sledgehammer crashing through everything you’d once thought about yourself because you wanted to be his, completely.

“Yes…” you breathed, losing sight of everything else but him. There were no sounds, no smells, nothing but Eddie.

“As much as I want to bend you over the hood of this truck right now, I don’t like to share. Can’t have the other guys getting a look at what is for my eyes only.”

You blinked, eyes going wide, suddenly remembering that you were not alone. You were in the garage, in the middle of the day, surrounded by his co-workers. What in the hell were you doing? Seriously, this man made you lose all self-control. The old you never would have let yourself get like this out in public. Of course, Cam had never given you a reason to feel like this anywhere, not even in the privacy of your own bedroom.

“Shit. Yeah. Sorry. Obviously, you don’t want to kiss me or anything in front of all the guys at work. I…anyway, didn’t you want to show me the car?”

Eddie’s tongue ran over his lower lip before he gently pulled it between his teeth, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb ran across your cheekbone. He smiled, soft and warm, a cozy blanket cocooning you, and then leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. It wasn’t the all consuming kiss your body craved, the kiss that made you feel like he was devouring you, taking every breath from you until you were left fighting for air. It was tender and sweet, like a hug when you needed one the most, chicken noodle soup when you were sick, it was happiness in the form of a kiss.

“Darling, I don’t give a shit if all these guys see me kissing you,” Eddie told you, his fingers winding through yours. “They’ll just know how very sexy and hot as fuck my girl is. Let ‘em wish they could only be half as lucky as me.”

With a wink, he pulled you behind him, smirking at his co-workers as they watched the two of you with interest as you headed out of the building and into the lot that you had seen when you first arrived. You made your way past a handful of cars in various states of repair before he swung his arm wide to display your little Honda.

Your jaw dropped open, “Eddie…oh my god…this isn’t…is this even the same car?”

“Yep. Same old beater my uncle’s had for years but all fixed up now. I replaced the head gasket, sealed up the oil pan, put in a new battery, and got you some brand new tires.”

“But the paint…it’s…it looks brand new.”

The little Honda absolutely shined candy apple red under the glare of the afternoon sun. The rust spots were long gone. It no longer looked like a used car that needed love. It looked like it had just been driven off the lot. You couldn’t believe the amount of work he must have put in.

Eddie’s lips pressed together as he toed the gravel of the lot with the tip of his steel toed boot and shrugged, “It was just some paint. Not a big deal, really.”

“But it is a big deal,” you told him, beaming from ear to ear. “It’s a very big deal. I never expected you to put so much time into it. I…Eddie, I don’t know how to ever thank you for this. It looks amazing.”

He smirked, lips pouting preciously to the side as he took a step into you, backing you into the car, “I mean, I could think of a few things.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. How about you come to my place tonight?” he suggested and your heart skipped a beat.

“Really?”

He hadn’t invited you to his place yet and you hadn’t wanted to be pushy. He’d been staying over at your place quite a few nights and that was wonderful. But you couldn’t deny that you were dying to see where he lived, where he called home, to get a close-up look at all the personal pieces of Eddie.

“Really.” His hands covered your hips, pulling your body flush against his. “I can make you dinner and maybe we can come up with a way for you to show your undying gratitude.”

“You’re going to make me dinner?” you asked, surprised.

“Please. Don’t sound so shocked. I’m a grown man. I’ve been on my own for eight years. I think I can manage to cook something. It might not be fancy but I know the basics of working a stove.”

“Well, okay then. You know, I think a man cooking is very sexy.”

“Oh, do you? Maybe I’ll have to whip out my apron.”

“As long as that’s the only thing you’re wearing,” you teased, palms resting against his firm chest, knowing you were probably getting grease stains all over your clothes but not caring in the slightest.

“I am a very bad influence on you,” Eddie growled, his tongue darting along your lower lip, causing you to gasp.

“Very,” you agreed huskily, hands running down, over his stomach and hips, slipping into the back of his coveralls to squeeze his denim covered ass.

“Son of a bitch,” he grunted, forehead pressed against yours. “You are trouble. You’re going to get me fired, woman. The boss won’t think highly of me fucking you on top of a car in the parking lot.”

You giggled, “Guess I should get going then.”

Eddie reached into his pocket, holding up your keys, “Take your brand new car. I’ll bring your bike back to my place and I’ll see you later, okay? I get off at five and we can continue this then.”

“Can’t wait,” you grinned, kissing him once more before you pranced excitedly to your new set of wheels, causing that rumbling laugh from Eddie that you loved so much.

___________________________________________________________

The warm breeze of the day swept through the car as you drove home. You’d laughed when you’d turned the car on to find AC/DC playing, a little surprise from Eddie. The cassette case sat on the passenger seat, a note from him in black Sharpie that read, Because you can not only name three songs but could write their memoir.

Along with that cassette, he’d included a bunch more ranging from Whitney Houston to Metallica to Tupac, another note sat with those, reading, For my girl who appreciates true talent. Your stomach flipped over again at those two small words, my girl, pleased at the way they sounded, at how it felt to be Eddie’s, to feel like he was proud to show you off, to let everyone know you were together. Maybe it wasn’t very strong woman of you but you didn’t care. You could be a strong woman while enjoying belonging to someone.

You would never make yourself less than for anyone else. You would never forget yourself in your efforts to keep someone else happy. You’d done that for far too long in your relationship with Cam. Maybe you felt so lucky that a guy like him had ever noticed you. Maybe deep down you didn’t feel like you could ever do better than Cam. But you knew now that he wasn’t the perfect guy you’d thought he was and you definitely knew you could do better because you already had. Cam wasn’t in the same ballpark as Eddie. Hell, he wasn’t even in the same time zone.

Eddie stirred feelings within you that you hadn’t known you could experience. He made you feel wanted, desired, and taken care of. You would never be able to truly convey how much it meant to you that he had put all that work into fixing the car, that he’d even taken the time to fill it with cassette tapes he thought you’d like.

Cam was all about grand gestures, buying you a piece of jewelry or taking you out to the most expensive restaurant. But life wasn’t about the grand gestures because those came far and few between. It was about the little things, like leaving cassette tapes, getting your coffee ready in the morning, leaving you a little note to find in your teacher bag when you got to school that read, I’ll be missing that beautiful face until tonight. Those kinds of gestures cost nothing but meant so much more.

Especially considering that now, looking back, you were certain that most of those gestures were done from a place of guilt. Cam had been trying to cover his own ass, to keep you from becoming suspicious of his extracurricular activities, his late nights at work, his out of town meetings. And it worked. For far too long, you hadn’t questioned a thing, believing your marriage was rock solid when, in reality, it had been on shaky ground for years.

Cassie was probably not the only one. You remembered catching him kissing Rachel Litmore at one of his friends, Timmy's, epic parties. You’d been looking for him and what do you know? There he was, in the backyard, the two of them pressed together against the big oak tree, his tongue down her throat.

Oh, he’d promised you that it had meant nothing. He’d been so drunk. Rachel had tricked him. He was too intoxicated to know what was going on. Hell, he’d even said that he thought it was you. Bullshit. It was all bullshit. It had always been bullshit and you should have seen that way back then, long before you ever walked down the aisle and promised in front of all of your friends and family that you would spend the rest of your life with him.

But no, you’d convinced yourself that it was a mistake. Cam loved you. Of course he did. He always told you how much you meant to him, how you were the only one. You didn’t think that had ever been the case. How many more had there been for the man who always had to feel like the most important person? How many women did it take to satiate his need to feel desired?

You pulled into your driveway, pushing those thoughts away because Cam was your past and Eddie was your present. You hoped he would be your future, too, and you didn’t want to dwell on what had been. You wanted to dream about what could be.

Making your way to the mailbox, you pulled the front open, reaching in to grab the stack of envelopes. Leafing through them, you headed up onto your porch, unlocking the door, dropping your backpack just inside. Walking into the kitchen, you dropped the envelopes on the counter as you looked through, pausing when you saw a cream color envelope with your name and address embossed on the front.

You slid your finger under the flap, breaking the seal, slowly exposing the thick cardstock inside. Beautiful pale blue paper with silver writing:

Ms. Cassie Jones and Mr. Cameron Campbell request the pleasure of your company at their nuptials

Saturday, the 21st of September

1 o’clock in the afternoon

The words began to blur in front of you, your stomach rolling sickly. Your fingers opened, the invitation slipping from them and onto the counter. A throbbing began behind your eyes and you slipped them closed, inhaling slowly through your nose in an effort to keep your lunch from coming back up. You splayed your hands flat on the counter, your entire body trembling with rage at the cruelty of two people you once would have called the most important people in your life.

You snatched the phone off the wall, punching in your sister’s number. Kim would know what was going on. In fact, you couldn’t believe she hadn’t told you about it when you’d spoken a few days ago. Why wouldn’t she warn you that this was coming? A heads up would have been appreciated instead of the gut punch you received when you opened that envelope, just another blow dealt by them. As if running you over hadn’t been good enough, they just had to put the car in reverse and crush you all over again for good measure. Make sure they didn’t miss any pieces on their way to their happily ever after.

“Hello?” came Kim’s voice down the line, slicing through the fog of disbelief and anger.

“Kim?”

“Sis?”

“How could you not tell me this!?” you demanded, fingers wrapped around the cord so tightly that the rubber was digging into the tender flesh of your hand.

“Tell you what?”

“That Cam and Cassie are getting married in a few months!”

“What!?” You yanked the phone from your ear at your sister’s earth shattering shriek. “What in the hell do you mean they’re getting married? How do you know?”

“I got a goddamn invitation in the mail today!”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me. That is so fucking low,” seethed Kim. “Just when I thought they couldn’t sink any further into the muck, they prove me wrong.”

“Do they really expect me to attend this thing?”

“No! Obviously not. They don’t actually want you to come. They just wanted to rub it in your face. Look at how happy we are since you left. I’m sure Cassie is just tickled, showing you that he actually loves her because he’s marrying her. Well, newsflash to that trashy bitch, he married you too. It’s only a matter of time before he gets bored and does the same shit to her. Jesus Christ, the ink on the divorce papers is barely dry. Those two didn’t waste a minute and in a few months? They must have already been planning this thing because you know Cam isn’t doing anything small. He never passes up a chance to show off.”

“I…I don’t understand any of this. Why do they keep wanting to hurt me? I’m not the one who did the betraying here!”

“Because they’re in denial. They don’t want to be the villains in this story so now they can say, see, we’re in love. We’re so in love that we couldn’t help our feelings. We’re getting married and spending the rest of our lives together. We didn’t want to hurt anyone. We both love her but the heart wants what it wants. We even invited her to the wedding but she just can’t find it in her heart to forgive us.”

“No. How could I…how could they…Jesus Christ! How could anyone actually expect me to show up to this thing? They really think I would come, sit and watch the two people who stabbed me in the back pledge their lives to each other, and be happy for them?”

“No. Look, I’m not saying any of it makes sense. But this stinks of two people who are doing everything they can to rid themselves of their guilt, make themselves feel better about the shitty things they’ve done. You know what you should do? You should show up. They’d never expect that,” Kim snorted.

“Are you insane? Kim, I am not going to their wedding. The very thought makes me want to puke.”

“Yeah, but just think about it. They’re trying to rub it in your face that they are so happy while picturing you all alone, miserable, crying your eyes out. But you’re not. Show up with your new man. Show them how you’ve moved on, how you don’t need them. Show them how they haven’t taken anything from you and, in fact, your life is better off now. Show Cam exactly what he lost, what he chose to throw away in exchange for that inferior piece of garbage he’s got now.”

“Kim, no. I can’t do that.”

Your sister made a sound as if trying to dislodge a hairball, “And why the hell not?”

“Because it’s petty.”

“They’re petty! You don’t have to go and be a bitch. You just go and smile and hold your head high. You don’t even have to talk to them. But, come on, just imagine them up there, stumbling through their vows as they try to ignore that you’re sitting right there. Imagine Cam fumbling through his words because he can’t get over how you’re so much hotter than Cassie and what the hell was he thinking? Imagine him losing his mind because your new guy is so much hotter than him.”

“You don’t even know what Eddie looks like,” you sighed.

“I don’t have to. I’ve heard you talk about him. Am I wrong?”

Your cheeks blazed with heat, your teeth worrying over your bottom lip, “No. You’re not wrong.”

And it was true. Cam had nothing on Eddie. Those steel gray eyes couldn’t hold a candle to Eddie’s, like deep pools of top shelf whiskey that she wanted to drown in. His close cropped blond hair could not compete with Eddie’s soft, tousled waves. Cameron Campbell did not come close to Eddie Munson, not even in the same universe.

“Talk to Eddie. From the way you’ve described him, I bet he’d find an opportunity like that quite fun,” your sister chucked. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to see that.”

“Cam wouldn’t know what to do with a guy like him.”

“But I bet you do,” cackled Kim.

“You’re so wrong,” you laughed, shaking her head. “You enjoy revenge just a bit too much.”

“No. I enjoy revenge on people who hurt my sister. That’s my job, babe. Nobody messes with my family.”

“I love you, psycho.”

“Love you too, pushover.”

“Alright, speaking of my new man, I have to get going. He’s making me dinner tonight at his place and I have to get ready. Oh, and I get to drive my new car over there. He got it all fixed up and gave it a new paint job. You wouldn’t believe it if you saw the before and after. It looks brand new!”

“Sis, I am so happy for you. Eddie sounds like an amazing guy. He’s already done more for you in a few weeks than Cam did in a decade. I can practically hear the happiness radiating off of you over the phone. You deserve this, sis. Seriously.”

“Thanks. I am pretty happy.”

“So, when are you bringing him home so we can meet him?”

“Kim, I gotta go.”

“Hey! When do I get to meet this tall, dark guitar player?”

“Love you, Kimmy. Bye.”

“Don’t you hang up!”

___________________________________________________________

“Welcome to my castle, fair maiden!” Eddie bellowed loudly as he swung the door open to his place, ushering you in with a dramatic sweep of his arm.

A loud laugh erupted from you as you saw he had actually donned an apron for the occasion. It read It’s no sin to get my sauce on your chin, with a saucepan and spoon full of liquid. Of course Eddie would have an apron like that.

“Love the apron,” you told him, dropping your purse onto a chair just inside the door.

“Yeah?” Eddie’s teeth flashed brilliant white. “Well, if you like my spaghetti sauce, you’ll absolutely love…” He brought both hands down in front of him just in case you didn’t get the very obvious meaning behind the message.

“Got it, thanks.”

He shrugged as he waved and you followed him into the kitchen, “You’re the one who said you wanted to thank me for the car. I mean, that would be an excellent show of gratitude.”

“Duly noted,” you chuckled, leaning over the pot simmering on the stove, inhaling the aroma of spices. “This smells amazing. Is that…did you make spaghetti sauce?”

“I did,” he stated, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the counter. “I learned from my Uncle Wayne. He’s not a gourmet chef or anything but he can whip up a few things and his spaghetti sauce is way better than some Ragu from a jar.”

Your eyes moved around the house, eager to soak in as much detail as you could about the man in front of you. This was his sanctuary, his space, and you were itching to see what treasures you would come across in here that might give you just a little more of a peek into the enigma that was Eddie.

“Your house is nice,” you commented. “Want to give me a tour?”

Eddie pushed off the counter with his hands, “Okay. The bread’s got about six more minutes and the sauce needs to simmer a bit. Well, kitchen as you can see. You walked through the living room when you came in.” He moved through the archway of the kitchen. “Dining room and there’s a half bath just down that hall, along with the door to the garage.” Taking your hand, he led you up the stairs, pushing open a door to the right. “This is a bedroom but I use it for my instruments and amps and shit for now. Across the hall is another bedroom where I stuck my old bed from the trailer. Occasionally, if one of the guys gets shitfaced or something they’ll crash. Next to that is the bathroom and then…” He pushed open the last door on the right. “This is my room.”

Your hand curled around the frame of the door as you looked inside. The bed was covered in a black blanket. The walls were a deep red where they weren’t covered in posters of various metal bands from Iron Maiden and Black Sabbath to Judas Priest and Metallica. A large Corroded Coffin banner hung along one wall, a dark red guitar with crackles of black paint proudly displayed underneath. You slowly stepped inside, making your way over to it before turning back to him.

“Is this guitar special? Do you still play it?”

Eddie’s hand came to the back of his neck, rubbing, “No. I don’t play that one anymore. It uh…it kind of saved lives, I guess. I don’t know. It just felt wrong to play it anymore but it also felt wrong to get rid of it so it sits there.”

You glanced over your shoulder, confused. “The guitar saved lives?”

“I mean, yeah? Kind of. I don’t know. I guess maybe I did it because I was the one playing it but it…you know, I really should go check on that sauce. Red is a bitch to get out when it boils over.”

He turned on his heel and walked out suddenly, leaving you standing in his bedroom. You looked around you, wanting to stay, to get a closer look at all the things on his nightstand and his dresser. But it would be weird if he went downstairs and you just remained up there. He would definitely think you were snooping. So, with a sigh, knowing you’d gotten a small piece of a much larger picture once again, you followed him back down and into the kitchen.

Eddie turned his head at the sound of your feet across the linoleum floor. With a smile, he gestured for you to sit at the dining room table, a small round wooden table with four chairs. The top looked like it had been well-loved, possibly a hand-me-down, notches dug deep into the wood in places. Your finger ran along one, feeling suspiciously like it could fit one of Eddie’s large rings. You imagined him sitting in this exact spot, anxiety running through him as he tapped or pounded his finger against the tabletop.

“Your house is really nice,” you commented when Eddie approached with a big plastic bowl covered in a towel.

He snorted, “Thanks, I guess.” He shrugged, calling over his shoulder as he headed back into the kitchen, scooping pasta and then sauce onto a plate. “I mean, I don’t really have that Home and Garden vibe going on but it works for me. You know, if you’re into nerdy shit, heavy metal, and thrifting for furniture.”

“Oh, I love thrifting!” you exclaimed just as he was setting one plate in front of you and another across from you. “You can find really great stuff that other people just planned to toss out in the trash.”

“Well, that explains it!” Eddie proclaimed with a chuckle. “Wine, beer, water, or pop?”

“Umm, wine if you have it.”

“White, okay? It’s just the box shit. I keep it around for the girls.”

“Fine with me.” He made his way back into the kitchen so you called loudly, “And explains what?”

“Why you’re into me,” he answered, setting a glass in front of you before taking the seat across from you. Eddie lifted his fork, twirling pasta onto it and shoveling it into his mouth with a smile, his eyes lighting up mischievously. “I’m the definition of thrift store, baby. I’m the trash that was sitting on the side of the road and you decided to save me from the dump and load me in the back of your car.”

“Eddie…” you groaned, sipping on your wine. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” he asked through a mouthful of garlic bread.

“Talk about yourself like that, like you’re not worthy, like you’re not an absolute find. You’re not garbage. And if you are thrift store, you’re the priceless antique that someone tossed in the pile without realizing its true value. And I am thankful that they did because then I just happened to get lucky enough to find you.”

“Damn sweetheart, you’re gonna make me blush.”

“I’m serious. Eddie, you know, if you would just tell me what happened back then then maybe I could…”

His fork hit the plate with a clatter and he sat back, dropping his napkin in his lap, “Prom Queen, we talked about this. I can’t tell you that. I will tell you anything else you want to know but not that, baby. You told me you could handle not knowing everything.”

“No, I know I did,” you said quickly, bringing your glass to your lips, taking a long swig. “And I can. It’s fine. I just thought…never mind.” It wasn’t fine but it had to be. Eddie wasn’t going to share with you. You swallowed down another drink of wine, pushing back the disappointment. “Anyway, I got an invitation to Cam and Cassie’s wedding today in the mail.”

Eddie sputtered, almost showering you with his beer. His hand came to his mouth, he swallowed slowly, and set the bottle down onto the table. Folding his hands, he leaned in, that little furrow appearing between his eyebrows.

“Are you shitting me?”

“Nope. Not shitting you. They’re getting married on September 21st. Didn’t want to waste any time I guess.”

“Those fucking assholes. Jesus, that’s goddamn low, man. I can’t believe they had the balls to send you an invitation.” His fist slammed down onto the wood, the plates clattering, you jumping. That same hand instantly opened, reaching over the table to cover yours, thumb running over the back of it soothingly. “Sorry. I’m sorry. That just pisses me the hell off. I just, Jesus, are you okay?”

You shrugged, offering a small smile, “Yeah? No? I don’t really know.”

Eddie’s head tilted forward, eyes trying to catch yours, his own wide, almost vulnerable as he asked softly, “Do you still love him?”

“No,” you stated, shaking her head. “No. Any love I felt for him died as soon as I realized he’d been cheating on me for a year. It’s not that. I mean, I will always care about both of them in some weird twisted way because they were such a large part of my life for so long. But it’s not even that. It’s just that I don’t understand how two people who I trusted with everything, two people who I thought cared about me, loved me, are so willing to hurt me again and again. They claimed they couldn’t help their feelings but to send me an invitation? To rub it in my face that they’re together and happy after everything? Why?”

“To make themselves feel better. To say, see, we’re not the assholes everything thinks because we’re in love. And to say they invited you but you couldn’t be the bigger person and come, which is all a bunch of bullshit and anyone with half a brain cell could figure that out.”

Your fingers ran over your brow bone as you chuckled, “You sound like my sister. Kim said something very similar.”

“Sounds like a smart girl.”

“I don’t know about that. She also said I should go and take you as my date to rub it in their faces.” You rolled your eyes, guffawing at the very idea, finishing off the last of your wine. “Can you imagine?”

Those plush lips pooched out as he raised his hand up, finger pointing directly at you. You did not have a good feeling about whatever was going to come out of his mouth next.

“Actually, I think that’s a damn good idea,” Eddie said, only proving your fears correct. “I say we do it. Why not? I think I have a suit jacket up in the closet from…well, a funeral. Let’s do it. Let’s go and have the best damn time. Why not?”

“Why not? Eddie, are you kidding me? There are a million reasons why not.”

“Like what? Because he’s an asshole? Because she’s a raging bitch? Because they wouldn’t like it if we were there? Well, maybe they should have thought about that before they invited you.”

You rose from your chair, coming around the table, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Eddie, they did not actually want me to come. We both know that.”

“They sent the invitation,” he sang, his chair moving along the floor with a scrape as he pushed back from the table. Large hands covered your hips, pulling you into him. “Besides, I really do want you to come.” There was that mischievous grin again. “I mean, it’s vitally important to me.” Those hands traveled, cupping your breasts as he rose to his feet. “Maybe the most important thing to me.”

“Eddie…” you breathed when one of his hands slid into your hair, tangling the locks between his fingers, tugging it back. His nose and lips moved up the side of your neck.

“Come on, Prom Queen,” he urged, rocking his hips forward, his already hard length providing sweet pressure that had you moaning. “Let’s go to that wedding.” Teeth scraping the skin of your jaw, hand kneading the fleshy mound of your breast through your top. “Let him see how stupid he is.” A nip at your earlobe, tongue slipping along the shell of your outer ear. “Let me show him how very glad I am that he’s so fucking dumb.” Fingers slipping underneath your top, dragging over your stomach, pinching your nipple between his fingers until you cried out. “Because now this is all mine.”

Then your shirt was off and his lips were claiming yours, tongue dominating yours, hands massaging your breasts. You groaned, the sound swallowed, hands gripping the lean muscles of his biceps as you met his kiss with the force of the desire currently pulsing between your thighs. You rose onto your toes and Eddie’s hands came to your waist, lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

Fevered kisses, gasped breaths, and then you were on your back on his couch and his lips were everywhere, your body buzzing, nerve endings burning, held open to the open flame that was Eddie’s lips, tongue, and teeth. His hands grabbed onto the waist of your shorts, pulling them slowly down your legs, that beautiful mouth worshiping every single inch of skin as it was exposed.

Kisses to your ankle, your calf, his hand wrapping around it and nudging it over until it landed on the floor, opening you to him. You groaned roughly when his mouth laid over your lace panties, a slow exhale, warm breath brushing over your most sensitive parts. Your hand tangled in his long locks, pulling his head back and away.

Eddie’s eyes, molten chocolate, burned into yours as that lower lip jutted out in the sweetest little pout, annoyed that he had been stopped. You rose up onto your knees, grabbing onto the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head. Your hand came to his chest, pushing him back against the arm of the couch.

“What did you stop me for, baby?” he growled, his finger hooking into your panties, pulling you toward him. “I was gonna make you feel good, make you forget all about those assholes.”

“Mmm, and I am looking forward to that, but I believe I still owe you a thank you for the car,” you reminded with a smile, your fingers working his belt buckle, coming free with a clink as you slid it from his jeans, holding it up and dropping it to the floor with a thud.

“Oh yeah?” One eyebrow raised, those lips curving up on one side as you unbuttoned his pants, the purr of his zipper as you slid it down.

Eddie lifted his hips as you grabbed onto the loops of his jeans, pulling them down and off, leaving them in a heap on the floor, quickly followed by his boxers. Sitting back on your heels, your tongue ran along your bottom lip as you took in the sight of his engorged cock, the tip glistening with wetness already as he sat, one leg against the back of the couch and one on the floor, spread and ready for you.

“Like what you see, baby?” mused Eddie, head shifting to the side, brown locks falling across his face, those deep brown eyes watching you intently.

“Very much.”

You settled yourself on your stomach between his legs. Reaching out, you took his length in your hand, velvet fingers moving along his rigid shaft. Eddie’s eyes fluttered shut at your touch.

“Fuucckk…” he groaned.

“Feel good?” you inquired, your grip becoming firmer as you pumped him with your palm.

“So good, sweetheart…so fucking good…”

Bolstered by his reaction, you flicked your tongue across the tip, delighting in the hiss from between his teeth that followed, his hips bucking up, reactively searching for your mouth. Keeping your hand around the base, you wrapped your lips around him, working as much of him as you could inside the warmth of your throat.

“Jesus Christ, yeah, baby. Just like that,” Eddie praised, bucking up and into your mouth, sending the tip of him hitting the back of your throat until you gagged. “Love that goddamn mouth. Looks so pretty wrapped around my cock, princess.”

You hummed around him as his fingers dove into your hair, guiding you up and down. Wetness pooled in your panties, pleasure racing through you at the knowledge that you could make him feel this good. You’d never had a man react to your touch the way Eddie did and you found it was a powerful aphrodisiac. You swore you could get off just from the sounds that you were capable of drawing out of him. You just wanted to make him moan, growl, and curse again and again.

You released him from your mouth to run your tongue along the underside, the thick vein that ran there. Continuing to work him in your hand, you lifted his cock up just enough and then you did something you’d never done before. Hesitantly, you ran her tongue over one of his testicles.

“Jesus fuck!” Eddie cried out, his entire body tensing for a moment. “Fuck baby, do it again.”

You eagerly complied with his command before taking one of the heavy sacs into your mouth carefully, remembering your friends talking about how sensitive they were, how guys loved ball play but you had to be gentle. The sounds that Eddie was currently making let you know that whatever you were doing was right as you sucked softly before showing the other one the same attention.

“You’re like goddamn magic…jesus…fuck me…baby, I’m so close…” he gasped, guiding your mouth back to his cock.

You took his length in again, hollowing out your cheeks. Your hands came to his thighs, the muscles tense under your grasp. Eddie’s hips rocked helplessly, his head collapsed back against the arm of the couch, sweat slicked tendrils of hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks. He looked so goddamn beautiful on the verge of losing control and all because of you.

“Fuck yes. Don’t stop, baby. Don’t stop. Right there. Jesus. Fuck. Shit. Oh my god,” Eddie muttered, his grip on your hair tightening as he roared, back arching up and off the couch before he painted your throat with his release. “Holy shit…that was…holy shit…”

You smirked, swallowing him down, before crawling up his body. Hovering over him, you tenderly pushed pieces of hair from his face, your heart aching at the sight of him, completely blissed out, peaceful, happy, a small smile on his lips as he looked up at you.

“You are so beautiful,” you whispered, thumb tracing his bottom lip.

“I thought we went over this,” Eddie teased. “Sexy, sweetheart. I’m sexy. It’s much more manly.” He snatched your hand in his, pressing his lips to your fingertips. “But thank you. Now, I have something that I started before I was so rudely interrupted that I am dying to finish.”

“Oh, by all means, don’t let me stop you,” you laughed.

“Sweetheart, the goddamn U.S. Army couldn’t stop me.”

He leaned into you until you had no choice but to lie back on the couch, his lips claiming yours once again. Calloused fingers, a guitar player’s fingers slid along your skin, down your side to hook into your underwear.

Just as Eddie was dragging the lacy fabric over your hip, the entire room lit up with a flash of lightning that was quickly followed by a rumble of thunder so loud that it shook the house. It took you a moment to realize that Eddie was frozen, his hand on your outer thigh, and that hand was trembling.

“Eddie?” you asked softly, your own hand cupping his cheek, turning his head to you.

His eyes were wide, no longer molten chocolate, those brown pools were defenseless with fear. Plush lips were parted, quick ragged breaths sounding between them. You didn’t know how you knew but you knew he was back there, wherever there was, the place of his nightmares and something about the storm had set him off.

“Eddie? Hey. It’s okay,” you assured, sitting up, your arm coming around him, his body shaking, like the lone leaf on the tree, fighting to survive the bitter winter wind.

You pulled him to you, his body collapsing against yours as if he were a rag doll, an inanimate object incapable of movement. You snatched the blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping it around the two of you. Just holding onto him, you rocked gently back and forth in an attempt to soothe whatever was aching in him.

Eddie whimpered, soft moans, his eyes slipping closed, head shaking back and forth. He was scaring you, again, but you knew you wouldn’t get anything out of him now. He was in the midst of it, all but gone to you, his body was with you but his brain was somewhere else entirely.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’ve got you,” you repeated again and again, trying anything you could think of to make whatever this was better for him.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“No. No. You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I fucking hate lightning…that place…red sky and lightning…” He groaned, burying his face against your neck like a frightened child.

“That’s okay. Fuck lightning.” You ran your hand over his hair, your other one gripping his arm tightly, keeping him locked against you. You had no idea what place he was talking about. Red sky? The fire? Was there a storm the night of the mall fire?

“Don’t…don’t leave me, please.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Eddie. I am going to stay right here with you, okay? I’ve got you. You’re safe. You’re going to be okay.”

“I’ll never be okay…”

Your eyes slipped closed, a tear slipping down your cheek, your heart aching for him, the things he’d seen, the things he’d been through, the things you would never get to know and could therefore never truly be able to help him with.

Chapter 19

Taglist: @tlclick73 @bebe07011 @eddiesguitarskills @witchwolflea @nailbatanddungeon @emilyslutface @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @corrodedcoffincumslut @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @katethetank

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alfhildr-the-word-weaver · 2 months

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I must say, it's pretty poetic that I've gotten to season 6 of Vampire Diaries right before another solar eclipse happens in America. I certainly didn't plan it, but it does feel like my timing is very appropriate with this one. I do have questions about the accuracy of the eclipse portrayal in the show, though. I mean, a solar eclipse did in fact happen on May 10, 1994, and it was visible across much of the country, so that much is accurate. But I don't think Mystic Falls would've had quite as good of a view as they show it having. For reference, here's a map of the May 1994 eclipse path (credit: timeanddate.com):

And, if you'll remember, Mystic Falls is like two hours from my old hometown just a stone's throw north of Lynchburg, Virginia, as seen on the locator spell map (this one's all over tumblr, forgive me for not remembering what blog I grabbed it from):

So if you zoom in on the timeanddate map and pick somewhere closeish to there:

It looks like Mystic Falls would be getting a little over 77% coverage or so. It's also worth noting that the '94 eclipse was an annular eclipse, not a total eclipse like tomorrow's eclipse. That still means that the moon went directly in front of the sun, but it does mean that it was small enough/far enough from earth that you didn't quite get full coverage of the sun (thanks to weather.gov for the nifty graphic):

So, I'm not positive whether it would've looked quite as dark as was shown in the show:

Although, I must admit, in this video I found on youtube of the '94 eclipse, (part of me is shocked to find footage from then but I know I shouldn't be like yes they had cameras in the 90s) it actually looks more similar than I expected it to look, but I imagine it was most likely filmed within the path of totality:

youtube

But also, when Kai takes Bonnie to Portland, don't they see the eclipse again there? I couldn't find that clip on youtube just now, but Portland barely had any eclipse--only 42-43% coverage, so it would've been way milder of a visual effect, barely any dimming in the sky noticeable without eclipse glasses.

The funny thing is, the area where I live is going to be sitting right around 80% coverage tomorrow. I was lucky enough to get to travel to Missouri for the 2017 eclipse to get into the path of totality, but I'm afraid that it hasn't worked out for me to do so this year, which is immensely disappointing to me as an astronomy enjoyer, but I do still plan to go to an eclipse party and I'm going to start saving to try and get to Spain for the next total eclipse in 2026, which is going to be right around my 30th birthday (screaming). Anyways, it isn't great, but here's my best picture from the '17 eclipse:

I didn't even have a smartphone yet then, because despite it being 2017, I was somewhat of a luddite, so I had the purple flip phone I so stubbornly clung to and a point-and-click Nikon, but I still think this picture is pretty cool for what it is. Here's the zoom in so you can really see that ring of fire (and my shaking hands doubling the image):

Obviously you can find thousands of better eclipse pictures online, but that one's still special to me because it's mine. Anyways, I'll report back with smart phone pictures from whatever I see of the 80% total eclipse tomorrow to compare and contrast with Mystic Falls's 70% annular eclipse of the 90s, because from what I've heard it's going to be much less impressive than full totality was, but I've yet to watch a partial solar eclipse, so I'll just have to find out. Also, if you happen to have any vampiric loved ones trapped in a magical prison dimension who you need help freeing during the eclipse tomorrow, let me know and I'll see what I can do! ;) Hahaha. Anyways, happy eclipse everyone, and may we all possess sufficient self restraint to avoid eye damage (says the woman who has looked at the sun unprotected so many times and is probably going to go blind because of it some day. I know what I've done lol. Don't be me.)

#posts where I actually feel like I'm using my blog as a blog #Solar Eclipse #Solar Eclipse 2024 #Solar Eclipse 1994 #The Vampire Diaries #TVD 6x02 #is where the screenshot's from specifically #Damon Salvatore #Bonnie Bennett #Eclipse History #nerding out over the eclipse in the vampire show #it's also funny to me how two eclipses in my lifetime are so close to my birthday. I think it probably means I have magical powers ;)#May 10 1994 #that's two years and change before I was born #April 8 2024 #I'm so tempted to ditch all my responsibilities and drive south to totality but it's an 8 hour drive and I'd have to leave at like 4am #if it was a 4-5 hour drive to totality I'd do it. but I think a 16 hour round trip would kill me and I didn't have the good sense to plan #or book a hotel in advance or anything and everything in totality will be booked up for sure. and tonight is the night I would need to be #in a hotel anyways so. missed that boat. I mean I could go now and just drive through the night. but ugh. I just. ugh. I can but I can't yk #anyways everybody says that the Vampire Diaries writing quality drops off around here but I'm still loving it so far #it's incredibly frustrating sometimes but like. it knows how to give me The Feels(tm) and so I'll let it jerk me around all it wants #I would personally prolly want to stay in the prison world for at least a little bit to get to enjoy that eclipse from a bunch of angles th #like that's a rad as heck day to get trapped on imho. Love me a good eclipse #i ramble #even in the tags I ramble #Youtube

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asksds · 11 months

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Part 1 | Next

Previous events

((This page was pretty much exclusively asset-flipping from the Clip Studio Asset Store. Materials used: City | Sky | Rain, the latter two get regular use across the entire thing.))

((MOM HOLY FUCK it's finally here!! I'll ramble a bit about it under a Readmore - but this one is 17 pages so more than 2 weeks of updates to look forward to! Yay! Return back to regular asks is nearing!))

((This really was such a particular roadblock for me and I think I have pinpointed 2 big reasons as to why it took THIS long:

I'd been thinking about it and layouting it in my head previously for years pretty much, and if you're an artist you know that overblown expectations like that can rarely be met by reality. Not getting to execute it like I imagined was a little frustrating so that made it harder to work on it

Turns out I was just helplessly overworked/kinda burned out from my job lol. The only time I could really get down to work on this was when I had any longer vacation, and we had a gigantic project at work spanning like 2-3 years that really went into overdrive last year with me pulling 10-hour-days for months basically. That left me no time and energy to really do anything else in the evening, and I'm pretty sure that impacted me until now since I could only finish this entire thing when I had another vacation and finally like...felt relaxed enough to draw?? and have fun doing it?? and have IDEAS?? It felt like I hadn't had ideas or motivation in years so that was a nice surprise, but also abolish jobs man I just wanna draw OCs and their shenanigans...

I'm really glad it's done, it did contribute to my posting anxiety to be honest where I felt bad posting anything because in my head I was like :( People will get mad if I do something else instead of work on this (ridiculous but you know how brains get. Like mate I drew a bunch of things for con prep and got too guilty to post any of it aaah) + for dramatic effect I didn't want to spam too many other asks inbetween which is why that grinded to a halt. Either way, it's done, it might not be perfect, it might show that it has spanned a very long time via some style changes between panels but what matters is that it's finished and I'm happy with it! If you read this (kudos) hope you enjoy, hope you have a great day and upcoming week, stay safe and hydrated in this hellweather, and remember the joy of creation because it's what makes life worth living!!))

#envy arc #comic

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acertainmoshke · 2 months

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WIP Intro: After the War

A 31-year war tears apart the lives of everyone caught up in it…

Humans

Madeleine was only a baby at the start of the war and her first memory is of the day her mother was drafted as a soldier. Their relationship was mostly letters until her mother was killed 6 years later. The children were only allowed to play in the yard so they were close enough to run inside. School was held intermittently, and they took masks to protect them from the poison gas attacks that would ruin their health anyway. Everything in her early life was overshadowed by the need to destroy the enemy, fueled by grief and propaganda. She signed up to fight the day she turned 16 and never looked back, although she ended her 10-year tour physically and mentally broken and her son born soon after showed the damage of the poison.

And now it’s all over and Madeleine has nothing at all and, worse, is expected to live side-by-side with the hated enemy in exchange for a larger pension.

Elfin

Aletha was 30 when the war began, still a youth in school with big dreams and first loves and wild rebellions. By the time her class graduated 5 years later, every one of them was drafted to fight. They were used up until their bodies were useless and then abandoned with no resources left for a safety net. Aletha was lucky by then to have found love with another soldier who supported her when she could no longer fight, and to have a lovely daughter in this time. But on the final day of the war, hours before a peace treaty is signed, her husband is cut down. She has no one else; her own parents and brother were killed in bombings years before. And she has nothing of her own, no way to survive and support her child. Unless…

Unless she agrees to move to enemy territory with people she hates. But it has to be better than starving.

Werewolves

Werewolves no longer had a homeland of their own, and the diaspora stretched across the world in every place. Violet was born to a large werewolf family amid a close werewolf community in a small human factory town. There wasn’t much future there, really; every adult worked in the factories. There was barely enough food. But the children played together and the woods stretched for miles. Until she was 6 and the fearful whispers began because some wealthy werewolves they had never met were funding the elfin enemy. And then soldiers came and told them they had to leave. The rest of Violet’s childhood was spent in a place that didn’t want her, moving frequently because of attacks or local disdain. She grew up like this and married like this and had her sons like this…

…and then the war ended. And her mother’s dying wish had been that she return home if she could, and it wasn’t like this land had ever done much for her. Even her husband’s refusal to join her didn’t deter her from taking two babies to a land she barely remembered and where no one wanted to hire her and she could only afford rent if she participated in a program to foster “peace” among enemies.

Vampires

Everyone knows vampires are reclusive and few live outside their homeland, but Sellie was an exception. She had a happy elfin community in the small town where she lived for over a century. Even once the fighting began and the High Vampiric Committee allied with the humans, many of her neighbors stood by her. That didn’t stop the new laws that said she wasn’t welcome. The transition to human lands was hard but she made it, living in the cheapest possible place in the third largest city. But she made a new community there among her human neighbors.

But now the war is over and her home has suddenly become the setting for the “peace exchange” program of bringing former enemies together. Sellie herself has no enemies, but her longtime friends are moving to avoid contact with the newcomers and she can see the explosion coming.

Mers

Kellop barely knew there was a war, although she was 17 at its start. The mers were always separate, neutral, keeping to themselves. She had dreams and she achieved them. She grew up and found a family and had a child. And then the war came crashing into her life in the most violently dramatic way. The fact that both humans and elfin offered meager resources for displaced mers was no comfort when they shattered her home and killed her people without even trying to. But there are only so many times one can rebuild before accepting that moving to a war zone with an army protecting it might be safer.

Kellop’s family, ressigned to raise their daughters in a land of smog and concrete, found themselves bouncing from city to city and finally, after the war but with no home to return to, they land in a subsidized program where everyone is an ally but no one is their friend.

Everyone

Five people from different worlds, all with war torn lives, find themselves living as neighbors. And they’ll have to reconcile that or be destroyed by it.

#moshke writes #writeblr #Yes I’m starting a new wip #Yes I really hope I don’t immediately give up on it

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lobster-tales · 1 year

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Beat the Daylight

Sequel to Face the Noise, an Arcane Rock Band AU

Rating: M

Chapter 19: The Final Round

Summary: Battle of the Bands Round Three

This work is available here on AO3. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18

Vi barely remembered Caitlyn leaving that morning: just her twinkling phone alarm, the rustling of sheets, Caitlyn brushing her lips across Vi’s cheek and murmuring, “I’ll see you there, my love.”

When Vi actually woke up hours later, her body protested, muscles sore from the fight. She stretched as much as she could, examined herself in the mirror. Eh, the makeup artists could cover up that bruise. Maybe not that one, though. Definitely not that one.

“Good morning,” Lux said, already pouring her a cup of black coffee as she entered the kitchen. “You good, by the way? You kind of disappeared last-” Her eyes landed on Vi’s fresh bruises and widened in horror. “Holy shit. Did you get in a fight?”

“I won a fight,” Vi clarified with a smirk.

“What is it with your family,” Lux muttered. “What happened? Who was it?”

Vi’s smirk folded in on itself. “Uh… Sevika.”

“... Wait.” Lux’s fingers itched towards her phone. “That was you? You’re the reason that she’s not-” Lux gasped. “Vi! That’s cheating!”

“That’s not how it went down, I swear!” Vi glanced at the clock. “Come on, we gotta go. I’ll explain in the car.”

Once Lux heard her out, she did sympathize, if not begrudgingly. “At least Jinx still has Viktor,” she pointed out.

Vi hadn’t even thought of that. She wondered if her sister knew the details of the fight, that it was her who knocked out Sevika. Her mind conjured up an image: not of Jinx, but Powder, nervous, standing backstage holding Viktor’s hand, a stuffed animal dangling from her arm.

She couldn’t deny the hope inside of her. Lux’s presence in their lives had changed so much, given them a bridge between each other. For so long, Vi felt like Jinx was a stranger, but the way Lux talked about her made her feel like she knew her. And really, maybe she did. Maybe Powder had become Jinx long before she left. Maybe loving Jinx would be just as easy as loving Powder had been.

Reporters crowded the backstage door. Vi pulled up her hood and put on her sunglasses, but Lux kept herself visible, even with the messy bun and lack of makeup. “I don’t care,” Lux said with a shrug. “They already don’t like me.”

She held her head high as they rushed past the flashing cameras. One of the reporters called, “Luxanna! Is your relationship with Jinx real or just a strategy for the contest?”

Lux threw up her middle finger in response.

As the door closed behind them, Vi pretended to be horrified. “Miss Crownguard!” she said dramatically. “That was not very ladylike.”

“Fuck you,” Lux giggled, jostling her shoulder.

Vi only got a quick glance backstage, but didn’t see Caitlyn. She was probably in the booth overworking some poor sound technician.

The makeup artists gawked at the sight of Vi, admonishing her for getting into a brawl, or at least not doing well enough to avoid getting hit. Lux suggested that it would add to her stage persona, but they waved her away.

The TVs above showed the stage, the staff scurrying across as they prepared for the show. Vi knew she should be nervous, but for the first time before any show, she felt completely cool. Mel’s words from the day before had eased her fears, and especially after defeating Sevika, Vi felt untouchable.

“Hey,” Vi said to one of the makeup artists. “Is Caitlyn in the booth?”

One of them removed a radio from their belt and asked.

A technician’s voice crackled, “No, she’s not here. Team, eyes on Miss Kiramman?”

Another voice answered, “She hasn’t come in yet.”

Lux shot a worried glance towards Vi, who already had her phone out. The first few calls went unanswered. “Shit,” Vi muttered under her breath. “Shit, shit. Lux, you try-”

Vi’s phone rang.

“Oh, thank-” Vi breathed in relief as the name ‘Cupcake’ flashed across the screen. She answered the video call, raising her phone screen so that Caitlyn would also be able to see Lux as well. “Cait?”

But the screen was black. They heard some shuffling, a muffled whimper. Vi’s voice trembled. “C-Caitlyn? You there?”

The camera moved, showing shaky shadows. A voice echoed from the shifting darkness, unaccompanied.

It’s me Hi I’m the problem, it’s me

“What?” Lux whispered. “Powder?”

“Jinx!” Vi couldn’t hold back the accusation from her tone. “What’s going on? Where’s Caitlyn?”

“She’s mine now,” taunted Jinx.

The camera focused on a chair, where Caitlyn sat bound, a cloth gagging her. A pink smile was painted over the material.

Lux’s jaw dropped, unable to process what she was seeing. Vi felt like her heart had stopped. “What- what are you doing? Let her go!”

Still obscured from view, Jinx said, “If you ever want to see your little girlfriend again, then you better forfeit the contest.”

“No,” Lux breathed. “No, Powder, how could you…”

“Don’t do this!” Vi begged. “Just- We can talk about this, Powder, Jinx! Tell me where you are and we can talk this out. Please!”

Jinx said, “Your choice.” And the call ended with a click.

☆ ☆ ☆

Caitlyn struggled against her bonds, illuminated by the TV’s glow. Blue tinted camera footage was playing, with twin lenses like a set of eyes. Onscreen, Jinx played with dolls, alone in her graffitied studio. The footage had been edited, lines trimmed. She repeated, “That’s right, Ezreal. She’s mine now. And if you ever want to see your little girlfriend again-” The video skipped, fast forwarding to where Jinx held up one of the dolls and imitated Lux, saying, “Thank you, Jinx! You’re my hero!” And she made the dolls kiss.

The video paused, and Silco stepped out from the darkness, Caitlyn’s phone still in hand. “I ought to thank you for the convincing performance, Kiramman.”

She lurched towards him, but the bindings held tight.

Silco’s chuckle was the blade of a knife. “I do hate to keep you from your team, especially in their hour of need, but you understand, child. I never lose.” Before he exited, he switched the TV to the concert stage, and purred, “Enjoy the show.”

☆ ☆ ☆

Jinx refused to spend this round locked up in the dressing room. Who gave a shit if Fissurefolk watched from the backstage rafters, especially when there were only two of them left?

Her painted nails clicked against the railing. Viktor was like stone beside her: together, they were twin gargoyles that leered over the altar.

Seraphine was center stage, cameras focused on her as she recapped the contest. Images played on a screen behind her, referencing various social media posts, starting with Viktor’s departure from Hextech. She covered the tense press conference, the first round and Fissurefolk’s victory.

The recap skipped straight to the second round, and Jinx wanted it to stop, remind Seraphine that she was missing so much of the inbetween: Lux finding out about her past and accepting her anyway, how her friendship with Viktor really started growing, and, of course, the girls’ night. But instead, she watched herself perform, saw the moment where she and Viktor decided to play the remix against Finn’s wishes, and his fate was sealed. She watched Lux sing for the first time, felt that same surprise and desperate want all over again.

Then the flood of social media posts about her and Lux’s night out. In the moment, Jinx had been so consumed with showing off Lux, that she didn’t even realize that it went both ways. Lux kept making eye contact with the photographers, smirking. And when she looked at Jinx, her expression was pure adoration, stars in her eyes.

“... but regardless of what these two had going on,” Seraphine was saying. “It’s no surprise to anyone what happened next.”

Ezreal leaving the band. Finn’s disappearance, Margot’s resignation. Jayce’s dramatic plea in the rain, Viktor refusing to show. And finally, the announcement that Sevika was injured and wouldn’t be performing.

Two months. That’s really all it had been. It felt like years had gone by.

The TV cut to an ad break. Jinx realized she had a white knuckle grip on the railing and let go. Viktor glanced her way and rested an easy hand on her shoulder.

“Strange,” he mused.

“What?”

“Caitlyn’s not in her usual spot.”

He was right. During the first two rounds, Caitlyn always lingered just offstage beside the stage manager. Jinx searched for her in the shadows, but found nothing. An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.

The lights dimmed. A contemplative synth swept over the crowd. Fog rolled down the stage, illuminated by a soft blue glow. Silhouettes moved into position, and Jayce began a beat.

A center spotlight focused on Lux as she sang,

Dying sun burns in the night I watch it glow and it’s so hard for me Speaking darkness out of spite Coercion and then caving in Wrap me in my bitterness

She looked ethereal, glitter shining on her cheeks, the satin material of her dress reflecting the blue stage glow. She moved with a steady grace, mournful eyes matching the lyrics.

Give it up I’m complacent Just enough to escape this Heretics wouldn’t phase me

Lucid trust I don’t want it Palms are rough when you promise Fire lies when you’re honest

Lux clung to the microphone with both hands, raising her head skyward, above the crowd.

It’s hard to lose and wonder why You pressure in increments

The song intensified, Vi clawing at the guitar as she swayed in time. Lux’s voice drifted above the sound, lost in the haunting melody.

Like a slow moving coup Memories dissident When I am holding you

Jinx was impressed with the somber mood of the band, their dedication to the song. Even Jayce committed to the intense sorrow.

But when the song ended, and Progress Day just gazed listlessly out at the cheering crowd, Jinx finally put it together: this wasn’t part of the act. Something was wrong.

As the applause died, the band members exchanged empty looks with each other. Ekko gave a decisive nod, and picked up his mic. “Thanks. Thanks, everyone. And thank you for your support through this whole journey. But um… We actually have an announcement.”

Jinx seized Viktor’s wrist, holding her breath.

“Unfortunately,” Ekko said. “Progress Day has decided to-”

“Wait.” Vi seemed more surprised than anyone that she had spoken, but cleared her throat and said into her mic, “I um… I actually have one more song.”

Seraphine stumbled out from backstage, clearly rushed out by the stage manager. “And uh, which song will you be playing from your setlist, Vi?”

“None of them.”

A confused murmur traveled through the audience.

Seraphine considered the band nervously. “You-you do realize that if you play a song that isn’t on the setlist, you and the rest of Progress Day will be disqualified from the contest?”

“... I do,” said Vi. The band huddled in the middle, arms on each other's shoulders as Vi spoke to them. They returned to their instruments with a grim determination, Lux shouldering her guitar as Vi took the mic.

Ekko switched his keyboard to the traditional piano sound, playing a gentle string of notes. When the instrumental repeated, Lux joined in, plucking at the guitar so as not to overwhelm the sound.

Backdropped by the pensive intro, Vi said, “This song is for my sister.” And then she sang,

It doesn't hurt me

Lux and Ekko backed up her vocals,

Yeah, yeah, yo-ooh

And Vi,

Do you wanna feel how it feels? Yeah, yeah, yo-ooh Do you wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me? Yeah, yeah, yo-ooh Do you wanna hear about the deal that I'm makin'?

Vi stretched out her arm to a camera. Powder realized that Vi thought she was in the dressing room. She was singing to her, for her.

You It's you and me

On the chorus, Jayce launched into a slow beat. The music built in intensity, Vi’s vocals taking the lead.

And if I only could I'd make a deal with God And I'd get him to swap our places Be runnin' up that road Be runnin' up that hill Be runnin' up that buildin' Say, if I only could, oh

Ekko and Lux echoed the last line,

Say, if I only could, oh

Vi grimaced against the music, her emotions clear and raw on her face and in her voice. It almost hurt Powder- no, fuck, Jinx. Her name was Jinx. Damn, but it did hurt to hear that pain, so viciously displayed. The pain that she didn’t even know Vi was holding on to anymore, pain that she thought had been fueled by anger or resentment. But the source of this pain was neither of those things: it was love. All this time, it was love.

After Vi repeated the chorus, she belted out the notes of the bridge.

Say, if I only cou-ou-ou-ould, yeah-eah-eah!

The song’s passion rose to incredible heights, each one of the band members fully dedicated. Then they fell away as the song drew to an end, leaving only Ekko and the piano, and Vi, as she sang delicately, in such contrast to the power she had just shown.

It doesn't hurt me Do you wanna feel how it feels?

As the final notes faded, Vi’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “I love you, sis. All of you. And I’ll love you no matter what.”

A haze clouded her senses, like she was lost in a fog. Powder was vaguely aware of the crowd, their impressed if not confused applause. Something was tugging on her arm: Viktor. “Jinx,” he said, trying to get her attention. “Jinx, we’ve won.”

Somehow, she made it to the stage. Somehow, the mic ended up in her hand. Seraphine gave her a clumsy half-hug, attempting to make up for how caught off-guard she was. “Wow,” she said awkwardly. “This is uh, quite incredible. How do you feel, Jinx?”

Who? Powder met her eyes, barely able to focus. “I have a song, too.” Weird, the voice almost sounded like her own.

“Oh!” Seraphine’s sparkly eyes darted from the sound booth at the back of the concert hall to the stage manager madly waving her hands backstage. “Um, well… sure. Ladies and gentlemen, performing their um… encore performance, give it up for… Fissurefolk!”

Progress Day had slipped offstage during the celebration, and now lined up like shadowed sentinels to watch them claim their prize. Their instruments lay discarded around them, tombstones in the graveyard. Powder smiled wistfully at the white guitar covered in animal stickers.

She whispered to Viktor, and he took his seat at the DJ booth, sliding the mask over his face. Powder stood center stage, the mic trembling in her fingers. She had never performed in front of this many people before. Or had she? Why did this seem so familiar? Why did it feel so strange?

“This song,” her voice said. “Is for my sister.”

The hall darkened to match the muted instrumental. Viktor’s booth emitted its own light, the spined eye symbol of Shimmer Entertainment casting a watery glow. Phone lights glittered from the audience, making Powder feel like she was lost in a sea of stars.

She was silhouetted against that murky glow, but as she sang the first few words, she felt herself illuminated by a spotlight.

I had a dream I got everything I wanted Not what you'd think And if I'm being honest It might've been a nightmare

Viktor added in a muffled beat.

To anyone who might care

Some spell controlled her, moved her body in time with the music.

Thought I could fly So I stepped off the Golden Nobody cried Nobody even noticed I saw them standing right there Kinda thought they might care

She stilled, worked up her courage. She knew what she had to do.

I had a dream I got everything I wanted But when I wake up, I see

Powder turned to those sentinels, to the shock of pink in the shadows. Vi jolted at the eye contact.

You with me

And she sang just to Vi.

And you say "As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you Don't wanna lie here, but you can learn to If I could change the way that you see yourself You wouldn't wonder why you hear

A tiny, wistful smile played at the corners of her mouth as Powder sang,

'They don't deserve you'”

From so far away, she couldn’t read Vi’s expression. The other two were standing beside her, Ekko and her beloved Lux. She wanted to look at them, too, but some impossible force kept her focus on Vi. It was a sense, a gut feeling, that Vi needed this. She needed her eyes, her attention, her comfort.

But as the second verse began, Powder became aware of them, the audience. They were watching her, all of them, waiting for her to stumble, waiting for her to mess it up. He was watching somewhere, his one amber eye hot with rage. A word caught in her throat, and then another. Whispers echoed from sharp teeth, intensified by fear.

The mic landed on the stage with a thump, and Powder was soon to follow, falling to her knees. Someone called her name: which name? Which one was she right now? She held herself, overwhelmed by the anxious storm that buffeted her. Tears came, sharpened by quick gasps. Fuck, she was doing it again, she was fucking it up again, just like every other time in her life. Why couldn’t she do this one thing right, why couldn’t she stop her curse just for one, necessary moment? Why did she have to be such a-

And then a calloused hand rested on her shoulder. And then all she could hear was Vi’s voice, right in front of her, amplified by the microphone.

As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you

Powder finally lifted her head. She knew Vi’s face better than her own, knew the tiny scars on her eyebrow and upper lip, the constellations of freckles, every piercing, every tattoo. She had been there for every single one. And her smile: she hadn’t seen Vi’s smile in so long, but it greeted her like an old friend.

Don't wanna lie here, but you can learn to

Vi’s hand drifted down her arm, grasping her fingers as she guided Powder to her feet.

If I could change the way that you see yourself

Her bruised knuckles brushed so gently against Powder’s cheek, wiping away the tears there.

You wouldn't wonder why you hear

Her voice choked out the last line, smiling through her own tears.

'They don't deserve you’

Jinx crashed into her arms, but Vi was strong, too strong to be knocked over. They crushed each other in the embrace, burying their tear-streaked faces in each other’s shoulders. Nothing else existed, the rest of the world orbiting the sisters as they held tight, neither wanting to let go.

Powder was the first to whimper, “I’m sorry, Vi. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” Vi murmured into her inked skin. “I’m sorry, Powder. Jinx. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The world must have continued around them, because at some point, Jinx realized the music was gone. She became aware of the crowd once more, who remained dead silent, unsure how to react to the sudden display.

Vi recognized it, and pulled away, her hand still holding Powder’s. She gave her a reassuring smile, squeezed her hand and raised their arms, fists locked together in victory.

And the crowd exploded into applause.

Vi embraced her again, and Powder saw Lux, running towards them from backstage, Ekko trailing behind while Jayce went to Viktor. When Lux collided with her, Powder seized her waist and hoisted her into the air, twirling around in delirious laughter. She kissed her, not hungry or wanting but relieved, hopeful.

Over her shoulder, she saw Viktor, the mask hanging haphazardly off his brow while Jayce captured his mouth in a searing kiss.

Then Powder went to Ekko, hugging him tightly, breathing in his musk and remembering the warmth of her best friend and first love. He held her close, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Pow,” he said, and she knew he was crying too. “It was all my fault.”

“No,” she said, pulling back. “No, I’m sorry. I never should have left you behind.”

And then she was back in her sister’s arms: held, protected. Lux, Ekko, Jayce and Viktor crowded around, burying her in warmth and love. Her family, almost all of them. Except for-

“Where’s Caitlyn?” Powder asked through her happy tears.

Vi froze, surprised. “You… you took her hostage. You sent me a video call where she was tied up.”

“What?” Powder read their faces, the pain that was there now. “No. No, I didn’t.” In a moment of uncertainty, Powder looked to Viktor. “Did I?”

“Mmm I think I would have noticed if you took another hostage,” Viktor said. “Vi, did you see Powder’s face in this call?”

Vi frowned. “No, but I heard your voice. You were singing this song, ‘hi I’m the problem’ or something.”

“I didn’t,” Jinx said louder, trying to back away from them.

“Silco,” Viktor muttered. “Your studio, Fishbones. He must have-”

A flash of movement drew Jinx’s attention backstage. She only saw the glow of the single amber eye, and the glint of steel, aimed at Vi’s back.

“No!” Powder screamed, flipping her position with Vi as the gun went off.

☆ ☆ ☆

Chaos erupted. The audience surged with panicked screams. Jayce and Ekko took off after him, their footsteps thundering across the stage.

“Powder!” Vi cried out, pulled her close. Lux fell to her knees beside her, a hand over her mouth in horror. “No, no.” Vi’s hands were sticky with liquid, but she was too afraid to look. “Powder…” But the body moved back, revealing that Powder was completely unharmed. Vi could only gawk at her. “Wh-what? But how?”

Powder reached behind her shoulders, and when she brought back her hand, it was stained pink with paint. “I was scared he’d pull some shit like that, so I swapped his guns this morning.”

Lux let out a sharp, relieved gasp, and Vi felt the prick of fresh tears.

Viktor, still standing nearby, jerked his chin towards backstage. “Come. You probably want to get to Silco before Jayce and Ekko do.”

The stagehands had scattered, leaving a clear trail. Jayce and Ekko stood together, facing someone. Vander, his back against a wall, his thick arms grappling Silco in a chokehold.

“You’re here,” Vi said in surprise.

Vander grunted, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Vi stalked forward, ready to pummel Silco into dust, but a voice stopped her.

“Let him go.” Jinx’s voice was quiet but commanding, and Vander obeyed.

Silco staggered towards her, arms outstretched. “Jinx,” he breathed. “You’re okay.”

But instead of embracing him, Jinx seized his jaw in her fingers. “Where’s Caitlyn?” she hissed.

“Safe,” he said, impossibly calm even now. “In the hotel basement. No harm would have ever come to her.”

He was telling the truth, Jinx knew it. But one truth could not soften so many lies. “You played me.” Her painted nails dug into his gaunt cheeks. “Why, Silco? Why would you do that?”

“I had to secure our victory,” he winced at the pain. “By any means possible. You don’t understand, Jinx.”

“I understand everything. I know about your side bet, Silco. I know that if we had won, Mel would have to resign from the Senate.”

Vi shared a gasp with the group, startled by the news. But Silco’s surprise twisted into a mad grin. “You do understand,” he said. “We did win, Jinx, they forfeited.”

“Fuck the contest!” she snarled. “You put my ass on the line, my contract! And you lied about it, you lied to my face!”

“... I’m sorry, Jinx. I only did it to protect you.”

“Protect me from what? My family?” Her grip loosened, the hurt weakening her, causing her fingers to tremble. “You lied about that, too. You said they never came looking for me, that they didn’t want me anymore…”

Silco gently pulled away, his face solemn. “They never came for you, Jinx, they came for Powder. I knew you weren’t that girl anymore, that you had been reborn.”

His bony fingers caressed the side of her face, and it took every ounce of will in Vi’s body not to snap his wrist.

He continued, though, uninterrupted. “They don’t know who you really are, but I do. I know what you’re capable of. And I love you for it.”

She said in a quiet voice, “You never loved me.”

“No, Jinx. I swear-”

“You only loved what I could give you.” Her spine straightened, eyes stormy. She took a step towards him and Silco instinctively backed away. “You only loved Jinx because she was your heir. You didn’t want a daughter, you wanted a legacy.”

“That’s not-”

“And all I ever wanted was to be accepted, and you took advantage of that.” Her hands clenched into fists at her side. “You took advantage of me, you betrayed me. What kind of father betrays his daughter?”

“I never meant-” He jolted at the touch of the wall behind his back.

“You don’t care about me,” she continued. “You don’t care about Zaun, either. All you care about is power, that’s why you wanted an heir. So your name could live forever, so you could live forever. Well guess what, Silco?” She seized him by the front of his maroon shirt, hissing quietly into his face, “I’m not your heir anymore. I’m not your star, I’m not your idol, and I’m not your fucking Jinx.”

With that, she spun on her heel and left him.

The band loomed around Silco, ready to tear him apart. But Vander held them back. “Let the authorities deal with him,” he said, nodding to the concert hall’s security team.

Vi and Lux found Powder backstage, tucked away in a corner as she grounded herself. “Pow?” Vi asked. “You okay?”

Powder jumped into Vi’s arms just like she had so many times growing up, squeezing her tightly. “I am now,” she whispered. “Come on, let’s go get your girl.”

#lightcannon #vicait #jinx #arcane #vi #rock band au #battle of the bands au #my fic #face the noise #beat the daylight #have the tissues ready this one's a tearjerker #kind of intense be emotionally prepared

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engbergeurovacay23 · 10 months

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Wednesday: A Day Trip to Toulouse and Cycling for Eric!

Hello! I am writing this from the Barcelona airport on Thursday afternoon, while we wait to board our plane to Munich. I will, of course, fill in all of the details from today, our travel day (and us running into two member of the UAE Emirates professional cycling team in the Barcelona airport lounge, including the U.S. time-trial champion!), in the next post, but for now, I want to tell you all about Wednesday!

So, on Tuesday evening, after the frustrations with Les Bains de Couloubret and my general needs to get to a slightly larger town where maybe I would see some smiling faces, I decided the kids and I would book a train journey to Toulouse. I also had an ulterior motive: going to the Repetto store. So, the train trip to Toulouse in 2 hours each way, and I did have some work I really needed to get done, so taking the train was going to be a win-win: I could work and the kids could read, and we could go see another French city!

When Eric and I came to France about 12 years ago, we were in a region in the north, near Switzerland, called the Jura. I also have been to Paris, once, with the kids, in 2019. But, I really have not explored much of France. So, going to Toulouse was exciting to me. And, the reason I wanted to go to the Repetto store is that, not only are they a pointe shoe manufacturer (though, when I used to dance en pointe, and not very well, I did not wear Repettos) but they are an amazing shoe brand for everyday wear. I have one pair of Repettos that I got on Ebay a few years ago, but the are slightly too small. I wanted to go into a Repetto store and actually figure out, by trying on shoes, what size I actually need. So, this was my motivation. Then, I could Ebay the Repettos I wanted, rather than pay the very high retail price.

Soooo, Eric also had some big plans for Wednesday. He was going to rent a road bike and bike up to the top of the Ax-3-Domains ski area! He used to ride on the road a lot (in fact, he rode across the U.S., which most anyone who is actually reading this already knows) and he raced in college for the Claremont Colleges team when he was at Pomona. But, since Cece was born, he has in effect given up rode bicycling and only mountain bikes. But, he was planning to have a big road cycling day on Wednesday and dust off that ascending technique.

Our train to Toulouse was at 8:17 a.m. This meant we needed to leave our place by 8:07, since we were just a few minutes up the road from the train. We made it with about 8 minutes to spare ;) I was not sure what the French regional trains would be like, but our train was very nice! I should have even brought my computer's power cord, because there were outlets! Anyway, en route to Toulouse, the kids both read the whole way and I worked on a post-grant report I needed to turn in by August 1 (and on the way back I wrote two recommendation letters and did a re-read on a journal article I was asked to review--and I beat that deadline by 8 days! Look at me!). In all, we had a great train ride. The Toulouse train station, however, was quite hectic. It appears to be under construction. When we arrived at 10:15, we took a brief stop at the "Toulouse" sign, which is there to promote the fact that the Rugby World Cup is coming to Toulouse in the Fall. We walked from the train station to The Bookshop, an English-language bookstore. The kids plopped right down on the floor near the children's shelves and proceeded to examine books they might be interested in. I am a real sucker for book shopping. I feel like, if they're asking me to spend money on books, I will say "yes." And say "yes" I did; they both chose two books. The woman who was working, when I asked where there were luggage lockers nearby (like we used in Madrid) said she wasn;t aware of any, and this corroborated the somewhat sketchy info on this I saw online. She offered to keep my backpack while we walked around for a few hours. I took her up on that! The shop would be closed for an hour-and-a-half midday (a common practice, we've perceived, in Spain and France, but mostly in smaller towns), but that worked well with our timeline. We targeted a 3 p.m. return to the bookstore.

From The Bookshop, we started our few-minute walk to the Repetto store, and encountered a Swatch store, Now, Cece has been asking for an analogue watch of her town since her birthday in May. I told her if she thought hard about what she wanted, and if she was consistent in thinking she needs one and is ready for one, I would get her one. When we were in Madrid, we went into a Swatch store and she fell in love with a blue one. I told her she had to think about it for a few days and then, if she was sure and would be assiduous in caring for it, we would get that for her, but that it would be a big responsibility. So, long story short (haha, is that ever the case with me?), she got her Swatch in Toulouse! She was so thrilled. She literally bounced into the store and back out. We asked whether there was a nearby crêperie they'd recommend and indeed there was, right around the corner. So, crêpes for lunch was up next!

We went to the Crêperie St. Georges and, while their TripAdvisor reviews are not stellar, I cannot express enough how pleased we were! The setting was incredibly picturesque, on a lovely square with a patisserie right next to it with coffee-sipping people out front, including a man who appeared to be the quintessence of bespectacled French-ness, reading probably some arcane book of philosophy. And the kids' indeed got two kinds of crepes to share: one savory (chicken and cheese) and one sweet (apple). They were pleased as punch and ate all of both. I got a Norwegian salad, with salmon and tomatoes and potatoes. It was also excellent. So, yes, we ate our fill ;)

From there, we did go on down to Repetto. What a delight to see! It turns out that only a few varieties of their shoes come in a half-size, which is what I need (36.5). So, I tried on a few styles in that size, and the 36 plain, just to be absolutely sure, since this was a one-shot deal for me. They had some styles on sale and there was a very cute two-tone blue pump that I loved and was in my size, and half-price! And buy it I did! Because there was a wall of pointe shoes, the kids felt very ballet inspired, and did some plies and tendus while we were there. The sales woman was so nice and friendly and kind. It was definitely a "win" to visit Repetto.

Honestly, by this point, we were getting a big ragged. We walked a bit more and went into a few more shops, including the Toulouse installment of Galleries Lafayette, a big department store we'd gone to in Paris at Christmastime, where their decoration were just mind-blowing! By the time our perusing of clothing stores was done, it was time to go back to The Bookshop and get our backpack. We did--and then, right back to the train station we went! We were a bit early, so we sat outside, then walked to get the kids a "train snack," and then they posted our platform and we went to it. We boarded the train at 3:49 and, whoosh, we were off! Back towards Ax-les-Thermes. As I already noted, I had a super productive train-trip work-wise, and that was much-needed.

Eric picked us up at the train station and went directly to Les Bains de Couloubret. And, guess what? We were foiled again! The boys' swimsuits did not pass muster! I mean, this is what they are looking for. Why, you ask? I have no idea at all! Just "regular" swim trunks are a no-go! If any of you reading this has a sense of why their swimsuit protocols are so tightly delimited, please let me know.

Because Les Bains de Couloubret would apparently forever remain just a dream for us, we ended up going on a drive, up the col (English: pass) that Eric cycled up after he cycled up to Ax-3-Domains ski area. Yes, after not road biking for many years, not only did Eric do one mountain-top ascent, but he did two -- and his stories of the struggled and exhaustion he encountered had the kids in stitches! The climb to the second ascent he did--one that actually was in the Tour de France back in 2014 and won by Chris Froome-- went by the street our place was on, but we kept driving up and up and up, past one or two more ski areas, on these teeny-tiny, narrow (but very well paved) roads. When we got to the peak, it was very cold up there, but that did not both the high-mountain cos and goats at all. We ended up descending to see "what was on the other side," but discovered we could not loop back around to Ax-les-Thermes another way that made sense time-wise, so we had to backtrack back up to the col, and down to our place. It was a driving adventure, for sure. Eric was, how shall we say, le tired, very le tired, after so much cycling ;) But he really enjoyed regaling us with stories of, and showing us, what he did.

We got back to our place and had a wide variety of leftover for dinner. We needed to exhaust our supplies before flying to Munich.

Then, we did a quick post-dinner hike, down the steep and tree-canopied trail. The hike bike up was a doozie! That is all for our Wednesday!

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xxsycamore · 3 years

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Hi!! Could I request the gun/knife play for Leonardo? Thanks!!

Of course you can! 💗💗 I think that this might be my favorite so far from the challenge, really took my time writing it too. Also, thanks for specifying that you want this along with dialogue prompt 30, thus we’re making it a threesome 👀👀

KINKTOBER DAY 26 - Sharing a Taste - [ COMTE/MC/LEONARDO SMUT ]

Rating: E

Word count: 3985

Relationship: F/M/M; Comte de Saint Germain/MC; Leonardo Da Vinci/MC; Comte de Saint Germain/Leonardo Da Vinci

Tags: Spoilers of Comte's real name; Swearing; Smoking; Alcohol; Polyamory; Threesome - F/M/M; Knife Play; Blood Play; Knife Cuts; Mild Blood; Mild Painplay; Mild Masochism; Blood Drinking; Come Eating; Vaginal Fingering; Cunnilingus; Dirty Talk; Double Penetration; Double Penetration in One Hole; Creampie

Check my masterlist here! You can also find all my works on AO3 under user xsycamore. In my profile you can find my Ko-fi if you would like to support me!

Written for my Visions of Temptation Kinktober 2021 challenge. [DAY 1] [DAY 2] [DAY 3] [DAY 4] [DAY 5] [DAY 6] [DAY 7] [DAY 8] [DAY 9] [DAY 10] [DAY 11] [DAY 12] [DAY 13] [DAY 14] [DAY 15] [DAY 16] [DAY 17] [DAY 18] [DAY 19] [DAY 20] [DAY 21] [DAY 22] [DAY 23] [DAY 24] [DAY 25]

DAY 26 - Knife play + “Why don’t you two settle it with a competition and I can be the judge?”

Sweet clover scent descends to the ceiling in little puffs, before dissolving into the air; a raspy humming is getting mixed with the sounds of the gramophone playing nearby. It's an ungodly hour, one that sends to bed even those undependable on sleep - when normally, the parlor is full of residents in the evenings, amusing themselves in tabletop games or simply watching and chatting from afar.

Now that they have the room to themselves, Comte, Leonardo and their lover, MC, allow themselves to act more openly around each other and spend their time how they like it the most.

MC watches Comte's lips move as he speaks, hypnotized, as she barely has it in herself to pay attention to his story anymore. The bliss engulfing her senses is making her melt further into Leonardo's embrace.

The latter has her laid comfortably across his lap and upper body, as he occupies one of the red leather armchairs in the parlor. His long legs are stretched out as he keeps an arm cozily around the waist of his girlfriend, extending the other towards the ashtray on the table and briefly tapping his cigarillo on it, once, twice, and bringing it towards his lips again. He keeps the conversation flowing, albeit with short replies - the rumble of his chest only succeeding to lull MC further as she ghosts her fingerpads on Leonardo's neck in answer.

Her half-lidded eyes watch Comte lift his glass of whiskey to his mouth, taking a small sip, enough just so he can wet his lips and give yet another turn to the conversation as another memory comes to mind.

MC's attention quickly withdraws from Comte's lips as goosebumps cover her skin due to a sudden sensation. Without her noticing, Leonardo's hand has dropped lower on her belly and underneath her skirt, toying with the hem of her underwear - and, in another second, slipping inside.

This naturally doesn't stay hidden from the blond, who is sitting directly opposite them and thus having a good view. His golden eyes sharpen as he shoots a knowing gaze to his friend before following the movement of his hand over the fabric.

Such perverse is not foreign between the three of them, hence the atmosphere barely shifts from its tranquil course. Knowing Leonardo, MC can expect to be fingered to a quick orgasm without the man losing track of the conversation in the slightest - and she'd enjoy every second of it. There is a certain trill in observing her two lovers test their own composure as the night continues to roll on. MC is not sure if Leonardo's goal is to bring her to a dripping wet mess, or to tease Comte by putting him in the position of a voyeur. It's not the first time she's found herself the object of their rivalry, recalling all too well how it feels to be on the opposite side of that table and in Comte's lap, as he gently strokes the bare skin of the inside of her thigh.

In terms of seduction, she isn't one to back down without a fight either, often provoking them in her own ways until she finds herself pressed between them and muffling moans in a richly perfumed collar. More and more prurient images come up in her mind as she sucks on a breath and interrupts their talk.

“Why don’t you two settle it with a competition and I can be the judge?”

She can see Comte abandoning his unfinished sentence and curling his lips in a knowing smile. He doesn't have to guess twice to know what his lover is referring to, taking note of her body language as her legs begin to tremble under Leonardo's ministrations.

Putting out his cigarillo and drowning the remaining contents of his glass, the Italian readjusts MC in his lap as he sits up straight in his seat.

"At least someone here knows how to have fun. What do you have in mind, cara mia?"

Comte huffs out a small laugher at how the first part was obviously directed at him. Seeing that whatever or not MC has something in mind to suggest, she likely won't manage to get it past her lips, due to her eyes being glued at Leonardo bringing the fingers that were inside her to his mouth and sucking on them clean. He, however, has a good suggestion.

"It's been awhile since we last threw daggers. The board is all set and ready on the wall behind us, too."

Leonardo is busy holding MC's gaze as he slips the two digits out of his mouth, bringing them slowly to MC's mouth to kiss. He doesn't spare as much as a glare in Comte's direction as he speaks up in his raspy voice.

MC is not sure what to picture when one of her two lovers uses the word "awhile". Judging by how in-shape they both are at throwing knifes, she'd think as recently as months. But it could as well be centuries since they last participated in the sport. The level of skillfulness wouldn't let it out the least.

"Bring it on."

Leonardo leans against one of the parlor's mahogany walls with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches Comte take his turn.

The blond takes a dagger from the set he dug out earlier, and steps into position at the negotiated distance. Two pairs of eyes follow the movements of his gracious hand, sleeves rolled up, as he makes final adjustments to his hold. Calculating that a full spin would be too much, his fingers move from gripping the handle of the dagger to gripping its blade instead. His chest swells with a breather before he holds it in, making sure that he is remaining completely still, and then, he throws it at the target.

Bullseye. A confident smile spreads on his lips as soon as he hears MC's cheering exclamations.

Leonardo pushes himself off the wall, rolling his own sleeves up as he exchanges a challenging look with his friend. They switch their positions.

Spinning the dagger between his fingers, Leonardo makes a quick study of its weight. It only takes him a few seconds to decide on his throw, and in shortly he positions his index finger on its spine.

MC watches him with growing curiosity, keeping her tone to a whisper as if she comments, mostly speaking to herself than anything.

"He is going for a no-spin throw."

Comte watches the scene with amusement, enjoying the sparkle in MC's eyes, accompanied with the hyper-fixated amber gaze of Leonardo. In another second, the blade is set flying in the air, in a very linear motion.

Not only does it perfectly lands bullseye, it also manages to knock off the blade Comte previously stuck in there.

Such a masterful throw must be deserving of ovation, and surely, seeing MC clap her hands enthusiastically is the biggest compliment Leonardo could take.

"Heh. That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Leonardo taps Comte's shoulder while switching positions again and the latter only replies with a chuckle, taking two steps backwards this time.

"Don't be so sure of yourself now, amore. We have three more rounds."

He draws an imaginary line with the tip of his shiny shoe in the ground before him, letting Leonardo know of the added distance this time round. It adds to the thrower's difficulty when measuring the force needed, but Comte figures it out relatively fast. His dagger makes an almost full spin before landing just shy of the center of the rings.

"Not bad."

Once all daggers are thrown, MC walks to the target excited to calculate the score. Adding up the points of the two distinguishly engraved set of daggers, she widens her eyes in disbelief.

Leonardo comments, being more on-edge to compete with him the more the difficulty increases. His next throw lands a little further from the center than Comte's, but knowing him, once he corrects his mistake and gets the hang of it, he would be a tough opponent.

The two men hum as they hear the quiet sound of her counting under her breath the score once again, as if to make sure, and they approach just in time for her to turn around and announce the result.

"It's a tie!"

Golden eyes meet golden eyes as they both chuckle at the same time at how caught up into the competitive air they've gotten there for a second. When this really is nothing to be surprised about, even given how many times underestimation of one has been the doom of another in those friendly face-offs. But what about the reward?

Leonardo scoots over to her side to snake an arm around her waist. His breath fans over her earlobe, sending a shiver down below, creating the urge for her to rub her legs together.

"Now, what are we going to do with you, bambina?"

It’s like he read her thoughts just now. MC parts her lips as her breathers begin to fall heavier, her hand resting over Leonardo’s, face turning just briefly to the side but not quite meeting his eyes. He remains behind her, half-leaning against the wall and anticipating her reply. The silence doesn’t stay for long, MC’s gaze finding Comte’s in order to make sure he is listening too.

"It's a tie, so, it's only fair the two of you share my body equally."

An amused chuckle reaches her ears the same moment all her senses get occupied by the feeling of Leonardo's thick, calloused fingers finding the space between her legs, for the second time tonight. The man is relentless when it comes to using his hands on her. As if she is his favorite toy, her perfect little pussy being his first to-go place to put his hands every time they're not occupied, in those late night gatherings. Whatever it's a board game or a talk over a bottle of expensive alcohol, Leonardo would always slide one big, roughened hand over the oh-so soft skin of her thighs and then toy with her swollen center.

She has to admit that as entertaining it feels to take the challenge of keeping a sharp mind in a round of poker or to maintain coherent thinking while sharing a strong drink, the best part is when they step into the part of the night while all games are revolving around pleasure.

Which one is it right now? The lastly spoken words still echoing in her head and the lascivious memory of watching them compete over her still fresh in her head, she wonders if she'll get true pleasure any time soon.

Failing to notice just when Comte has moved closer, his chuckle is rich and hinting of a certain anticipation, his tone sounding almost strained, needy.

"Easy for you to say, ma chérie. You're dealing with two purebloods here… I've told you many, many times - by nature, we're very unwilling to share."

Pulse quickening, MC wonders if Comte's sharpened senses would be able to pick the rush of blood under his gentle fingerpads as he caresses her wrists. His words might have been a warning to her, but they're also a warning to the man standing behind her, as the two's eyes lock again.

"Hah. By nature, Comte, the toughest one is the one who gets to have a taste."

Hearing Leonardo's words, another chuckle pries out of his lips but this time it's shorter, sounding a tad more dangerous. Once it fades, MC feels strangely on edge - and it proves to be reasonable, because in a flash, Comte swings his fist somewhere over her frame and behind her, as if aiming at…

When MC opens her eyes again, she can see that Comte simply meant to pull one of the daggers off the target board.

This time it's Leonardo's turn to laugh, whether or not the gesture has managed to alarm him - though, MC is sure that he'd react faster than she could blink if that was the case.

"We're both going to have a taste, Leonardo."

His tone is stern despite the following trace of a smile on his lips, as he leans forward. A quick peck is placed over MC's lips by his own, as if apologizing for startling her. Then, he quickly moves upwards and finds Leonardo's lips. It's nowhere as gentle as he was with her, she can hear it - perhaps mixed with a hint of fang, judging from Leonardo's groan.

"Bastardo furbo…"

It must be that Leonardo thinks it’s the perfect time to revive the movement of his fingers that are now slipping just past her entrance to dip into the dripping wetness. MC can still hear him addressing the blond in his own “endearing” way. There has to be something else hidden behind it, something to deal with the dagger that Comte now shifts in his hands.

Having a taste…

Along with a moan escaping her lips, MC's lidded eyes widen anew as she searches for Comte's hand to grasp with both her own.

"Y-you want to have a taste of my blood, right?"

Comte's curled-up lips already aim for her own before the last syllables could be spoken out loud.

"Our clever little girl. Could it be that our blood-lust is that obvious?"

Leonardo all but yanks her head back by the hair, in a way that is still gentle somehow, in order to plant his hot mouth against the column of her neck.

"I'm not going to pretend I don't want it. Cara mia, only if you'll let us."

Attempting to hold her mouth shut as a loud moan threatens to escape, she continues to grasp Comte's dagger-occupied hand, driving it closer to herself, hoping that he'll get the hint. Gods, she wants this, she wants to let them feed on her.

"Use your words, ma chérie."

"F-fuck! Abel, Leo, please, take what you need from me, make me yours, ahh, I-I'm coming!!"

They both hold her upright in a tight embrace as kisses from both lovers rain on all exposed places of her skin, Comte's quiet encouragements as he lets Leonardo finger her to completion. The last of her moans are drank down by a greedy mouth before the man standing in front of her falls to his knees.

Getting the cue, Leonardo gently lifts one of MC's legs, allowing more access for Comte to lean in and shove his face into her leaking cunt. He licks her clean, just as he does with Leonardo's fingers, before withdrawing to gaze up at MC's lovely face.

"Now, my dear, I'm going to run this blade right here… until it draws blood. Tell me, are you content with that?"

The very tip of his nail draws a line on the delicate skin of her thigh, making MC buck into his touch as if his finger enough would be able to tear her apart and make the blood he so-craves spill.

"Yes. Do it, please."

Leonardo makes sure to hold her nice and steady, indulging himself in another playful comment.

"Could it be that our little principessa fancies a little bit of pain?"

If she didn't knew Leonardo any better, she'd guess he is enjoying doing this to her - but the delicate yet firm hold of his hands is telling volumes of how fragile he feels her to be, as if asking alone is his way of making sure. The tenderness of his heart is making her want to turn around and give him a kiss, nice and properly, in a way they still haven't a chance to kiss tonight.

Feeling the illicit way his hardness all but rubs against her ass, she considers denying him the kiss a little longer after all. It could be Comte's mischievousness rubbing on her, but she swears nothing makes Leonardo cuter than being needy.

"Yes… I love it. I don't mind it at all, please do it."

It's all Comte needed to hear in order to cease the stasis and comply with her wish - the wish of all three of them. The silver edge of the blade glistens in the low light as he shifts it in his hold, lining up its sharp edge to the paper-thin skin of MC's thigh, so hot in comparison to the cold metal.

Both purebloods feel a tell-tale tingle deep within as the scent of blood rushes into their system. Lust and thirst both start running wild as Comte refuses to waste a single drop of blood that may threaten to spill over and run down the curve of her thigh. Before such even has a chance to form, he catches it with a lap of his tongue.

The sound of Comte moaning in awe of her taste drives a part of Leonardo mad, but a far greater part of him wants to help blow away his mind completely by shamelessly adding to the pleasure…of both of them.

"You already know what makes blood taste the sweetest, Abel."

Without a second to give way to a coherent thought to form, MC shudders instinctively in excitement over this implication. Still being held open with one leg in the air, Leonardo makes a quick work of his garments and in one precise, deep thrust, he sheaths his fully-hard cock inside her tight, wet cunt.

Her moan tops over the ones of both men as suddenly pleasure overwhelms them all and spirals throughout - from where his cock pierces deep inside her, a coiling sensation of another quickly building orgasm calls. It's greatly provoked by Comte's merciless sucking on her thigh as he continues to drink down the blood that rushes into his mouth, slurping noises filling the room as he blindly moves a hand down to palm over his own bulge. Due to the pleasure that MC feels increasing tenfold, the sweetness of her blood flowing in his mouth increases as well, locking them into a cycle of utmost sin.

It makes her cum on the spot, barely tied together syllables resembling her lovers' names spoken as she coats Leonardo's cock with a new emission of juices, hearing him groan out a curse under his breath.

With one last loud suckling noise followed by a wanton groan, Comte withdraws his crimson-painted lips and swirls his tongue over them to collect every last drop. Composure long crumbled to dust, there is an almost dangerous gleam to his eyes as he brings himself to his feet. The kiss he presses on her nearly-drooling mouth is almost forceful in its nature, driven by vampiristic lust one faces when drinking the blood of their beloved. In this moment, Comte desires nothing more than to become one with her - to claim her further, but to do it in a way that is most affectionate. So he puts all his might in getting out of his pants as soon as possible.

The slow drag of Leonardo's cock inside MC halts, preparing for making room for Comte's as Leonardo breathes out small emissions of hot air against her sweat-lined nape, sending additional shivers all over. He praises her quietly, scandalous words in his mother tongue egging her on further to accommodate their lover's cock inside her needy, wet pussy, just like she's done many times for them. It's not long before MC feels Comte pocking at her already stuffed entrance, making his way inside with a slow push.

Once he bottoms out as well, he carefully handles MC's weight into his own hands, gesturing to her to put her arms around his neck. Leonardo keeps his hands around her waist nonetheless, making sure their girl is securely held up in their embrace as they make love to her.

Their hips start thrusting in unison, the coil in MC's belly tightening to an impossible to bear degree as she braces herself for another body-shaking orgasm.

"I-I want…together…"

Comte seems to be back to his more controlled self because the elegant little smile is back on his lips, his eyes shining with adoration as he kisses over the shell of her ear.

"That's our good girl. Are you going to come for us?"

MC shuts her eyes tightly, brows knitting together as she summons her strength to do something she's meant to do ever since the first drop of blood colored Comte's mouth. She finds the discarded dagger and grips it - by the blade, clutching it in the palm of her hand until a hiss of pain leaves her lips.

The dagger falls from her hand with a thud on the floor beneath, a rivulet of blood starting to drip down.

She rises her hand and reaches behind to where Leonardo's breath fans over her nape, and shoves it on his face, palm-first - in a wordless, wanton message - drink it.

Leonardo doesn't wait for a second invitation and presses his tongue flat against her delicate palm, lapping at it with vigor. The moans he emits are now even more honest, their rumble coming from deep in his chest and resonating within MC, bodies pressed one in another. It's true that she could give him his sharing of the reward in another couple of minutes, upon moving into a more comfortable position, likely in their next round, but all is meant to be fair tonight. So she indulges into driving him crazy like that, knowing full-well that it would trigger his orgasm almost on the spot.

Seeing that both his lovers are on their limits, Comte lets his head fall on MC's shoulder as he picks up the speed of his thrusts a little, stimulating the two of them simultaneously.

Their moans mix together, MC desperately trying to inform of having reached her limit, but she knows - they got her, they're there to follow her into the pits of pleasure.

"L-Leonardo!!! Abel!"

As the orgasm hits her, she feels hot spurts of cum filling her insides to the brim. The seconds stretch out to make it feel as if they're going on forever as hips buckle and hands grip harder on her skin.

The sinful sensation of their mixed pleasure leaking from her abused hole only sends new shiver down her core, but her heart beats with content. The desire to kiss them, to keep kissing them forever, fills her, and she angles her head to meet firstly Leonardo's lips, then Comte's.

Their shared kiss is just a little messy, perhaps not unlike the rest of their endeavors, but none cares. Carefully settling her down on her feet again, MC falters like a newborn fawn, making them laugh as she earns herself a couple of apologetic kisses.

"See cara mia? Sharing a taste only makes us greedy brutes. We need to think of a better way to settle things between us..."

Comte snorts, mumbling out a "talk about yourself" under his nose. With one hand on MC's waist, he leans down to put the other on the back of her knees in preparation to scoop her up in his arms - only to be stopped by Leonardo who does the exact same on his own, making MC yelp as the gravity slips right beneath her feet.

"You two are unbelievable…"

MC shakes her head, still a little dizzy from their doings, in the best way possible of course. And I'm unbelievably lucky to have you all to myself, she thinks, but refuses to say it out loud in fear it would further stroke their egos, or worse, result in another friendly fight. Seeing the two typically mature men behave like that with each other, she feels like she is having a glimpse of their old days.

Yes, definitely very lucky.

"You said something, cara mia?"

She chuckles at the involuntary slip of her tongue, only nuzzling further into Leonardo's chest as she lets him princess-carry her to the bedroom.

"I was just saying that I love you both, that's it."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @leonardoism @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @thehappycat123 @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @theuwuisunreal @ravenarld @kyokirigiri-22 @kimmy-banana @btarinana @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @trishtori @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @judgemental-seal @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @toxiicmoron @ikemenlover24 @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @fun-ghoul-neela @salty-fed-up-bitch @coornn Please let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#Ikemen Vampire #IkeVamp #Ikemen Vampire Comte #Ikemen Vampire Leonardo #Ikevamp Comte #Ikevamp Leonardo #Ikevamp fanfiction #Ikevamp smut #VISIONSOFTEMPTATION2021 #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp leonardo

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restapesta · 3 years

Note

hi emina! happy last week of no school ♥♥

15. “Finally. Missed you so much.” but make it sort of in front of other people??🙏🙏🙏 if u want. it's okay if not, too!

MONDAY

---

ian (1:11 AM): it's hot as fuck here. can't sleep.

ian (1:12 AM): also, lip snores

mickey (1:12 AM): that's what you get for leaving me

ian (1:13 AM): drama queen, i only left this morning. be back in just a week.

ian (1:13 AM): why are YOU awake?

mickey (1:14 AM): fuck you, just a week. 🖕🖕🖕

ian (1:14 AM): 🙄

ian (1:14 AM): go to sleep

mickey (1:15 AM): you woke me up???

ian (1:15 AM): doesn't matter. just go to sleep.

mickey (1:15 AM): probably not

ian (1:16 AM): ???

mickey (1:17 AM): can't sleep without you

incoming call from ian (1:17 AM)

---

TUESDAY

---

mickey (11:22 AM): college bitch still pissed at us for waking him up?

ian (11:25 AM): isn't speaking to me. bitched about it to fiona the entire morning.

ian (11:25 AM): "can't go a night without him." blah blah

mickey (11:25 AM): fuck him. wyd right now?

ian (11:27 AM): helping Fi with the moving shit.

ian (11:27 AM): you?

mickey (11:28 AM): lunch with tami. bitching about lip.

ian (11:29 AM): 😌

ian (11.29 AM): that same lip is currently screaming my ear off to get off the phone.

ian (11:29 AM): keep bitching, my love

mickey (11:30 AM): tell him to fuck off.

mickey (11:30 AM): also, call me when you're done

ian (11:31 AM): 😘

mickey (11:31 AM): 🙄🖤

(12:57 PM) incoming call from ian

(16:44 PM): incoming call from mickey

(21:44 PM) incoming call from ian

---

WEDNESDAY

---

mickey (09:06 AM): come back home, im bored.

mickey (09:06 AM): Fiona doesn't need you for an entire fucking week.

ian (09:10 AM): 😬 just five more days

ian (09:10 AM): Fiona says hi!

mickey (09:11 AM): I'm horny, this is stupid.

ian (09:12 AM): handy-dandy hand 😁

mickey (09:12 AM): 🖕🖕🖕🖕

mickey (09:13 AM): ...something to work with?

ian sent a link (09:14 AM)

mickey (09:15 AM): you did not just send me the benefits of a cold shower, you bitch.

ian (09:16 AM): loveeeeee youuuuuu

mickey (09:16 AM): 🙂🔪

incoming call from ian (12:33 PM)

incoming call from ian (17:29 PM)

incoming call from mickey (00:12 AM)

---

THURSDAY

---

ian (08:12 AM): I'm horny.

ian (08:13 AM): mickey

ian (08:13 AM): MICKEY

ian (08:14 AM): babyyyyyy

ian (08:14 AM): pleaseeeeee come on, you're not sleeping rn

mickey sent a link (08:16 AM)

ian (08:16 AM): i deserved that.

mickey (08:17 AM): handy-dandy 🤛

ian (08:17 AM): hate myself at this moment 🙂

mickey (08:17 AM): 🤭😘

ian (09:44 AM): coffee on facetime?

incoming call from mickey (09:45 AM)

---

FRIDAY

---

ian (14:22 PM): sorry for the ghosting

ian (14:22 PM): Fiona's been killing me with the whole apartment cleaning shit

ian (14:23 PM): And Lip's hiding from her so he's always with me.

ian (14:23 PM): i know it's been a day.

mickey (14:25 PM): well, well, look who decided to text their husband finally

mickey (14:25 PM): it's been a whole day, ian.

mickey (14:26 PM): we are no longer on speaking terms.

ian (14:26 PM): 😲😨

ian (14:26 PM): i'm sorry.

ian (14:26 PM): i miss having breakfast with you.

ian (14:27 PM): i miss sleeping with you

ian (14:27 PM): i miss kissing you

ian (14:28 PM): and doing other things with you 😏

ian (14:28 PM): miss you so fucking much.

ian (14:28 PM): mick?

mickey (14:30 PM): ugh fine, you sap

mickey (14:30 PM): call me

incoming call from ian (14:31 PM)

---

SATURDAY

---

incoming call from mickey (18:55 PM)

ian (19:24 PM): phone sex is cool, but we should try sexting 😳

mickey (19:26 PM): i don't need a reminder of your disgusting ass dick anywhere on my phone.

ian (19:26 PM): hm? 🤔 not what you were saying ten minutes ago.

ian (19:27 PM): you sure you ain't ready for round two? 😏

ian (19:27 PM): bet facetime sex is even better.

incoming call from mickey (19:28 PM)

ian (02:22 AM): i miss you. i really fucking miss you.

---

SUNDAY

---

ian (08:02 AM): flight is at 10

mickey (08:04 AM): i'll be waiting for you when you land.

---

It had only been a week. A week filled with phone calls and text messages and a whole bunch of facetime—but, fuck, it had been a week.

Did Ian really have to go on and visit Fiona alone with Lip? Was it really that necessary for him to travel all the way to the alligator land just so they could help Fiona switch apartments? Mickey didn't see the point of the long-ass trip to Florida just so Ian could complain about how humid it was and how it was a blessing he didn't share a room with Lip anymore.

Mickey missed him. He missed him a lot more than he thought he would, and he really should've considered the fact that he and Ian spent most of their time together. They may have been apart before for long periods of time, but it was hard to tear them away from each other nowadays.

So maybe it wasn't that much of a surprise he'd had a hard time adjusting to the empty space of their apartment and the coldness of their bed. The lack of dad jokes during their long rides at work and the unmistakable scent of Ian that had been slowly fading and was almost gone now.

That was Mickey's excuse for not doing laundry. He didn't wanna lose Ian's smell from their home. The sappy excuse would probably work with Ian, he thought.

And even if it didn't, Mickey could distract him from his annoyance in other ways.

Airports sucked.

Being in an airport, waiting on Ian and Lip with their family of twenty thousand—or six, whatever—sucked even more.

But the plane had already landed and it would be just another couple minutes before Mickey saw his husband for the first time in a week. Before he wrapped his arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. He didn't even give a shit if anybody saw him and thought how big of a fag he was.

Husband. That was the only thing on his mind currently.

"They should be here already," Tami said, bouncing Fred up on her hip.

Debbie shrugged from beside Mickey, one hand tightly holding onto the redheaded girl between them. She was fisting the fabric of Mickey's jacket, and it made Mickey smile. It eased the anticipation a little.

Who was he kidding? There were swarms of bees in his stomach, poking and stinging. He felt slightly nauseous.

"I think I see Lip!" It was Liam who exclaimed.

Mickey didn't see Lip.

But he did see the redhead trailing right behind him, a suitcase in his right hand, recently bought for the trip. His hair was ruffled, and his eyes were sleepy, the jet lag probably hitting him in full swing.

Still, the green orbs Mickey missed so much lit up the moment he noticed Mickey, the corners of his mouth twisting up into a wide smile.

Mickey wasn't any better. He could feel the grin stretching across his face involuntary, yet he did nothing to hide it. Nothing to stop it from spreading. He didn't care to hide the excitement he was feeling upon seeing Ian for the first time in a week.

A week.

His legs moved on their own accord, and in what felt like no time at all, he was engulfed into a hug, Ian's long arms circling him—it was familiar; comfortable, and warm.

"Fucking finally," Ian choked out against Mickey's hair, his lips pressed to the top of his head, cradling his body gently. "I missed you so much."

Mickey tilted his chin up and their lips connected in a brief kiss. Just a peck that turned into a couple more, all loud on the pullback, their limbs still wrapped up in each other.

"Missed you more."

They stared into each other's eyes longingly for a couple of moments—it was probably too soft and sappy for them, but who gave a shit? They hadn't seen each other in a week.

What interrupted them eventually were a few short coughs, as if somebody was clearing their throat.

Mickey glared at Lip, practically forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the man he was holding.

"We done with the reunion or you guys wanna continue making out in the middle of the airport...?"

Ian was the one who flipped him off, finally disentangling himself from Mickey so he could greet his siblings properly and pick Franny up into a long hug. It made Mickey frown, the loss of contact. He forced himself to endure it, though—half an hour of a ride longer and they'd be home alone, free to do whatever the fuck.

Still, as soon as they were done with the obligated reunions and the questions about Florida and Fiona, Ian found himself next to Mickey again, gripping Mickey's palm and intertwining the fingers with his own.

Who gave a shit if anybody was looking? Who gave a shit if Lip was rolling his eyes at the obvious display of affection or if Carl was making obnoxious kissy faces at them as if they haven't been married for a while now—Mickey saw none of that shit.

All Mickey saw was Ian.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #shameless #shameless us #fanfic #*ficlet #AHHH THIS WAS DIFFERENT?#i liked writing it #I HAVE A LOT OF ASKS RN #so the content will keep coming :)#also thank you for the ask ❤️❤️❤️

296 notes · View notes

darkmulti · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your blog! So hard to find a non con writers! Ignore the haters, just keep doing what you love! You’re not alone!

So happy to see your request open! I’d like to request a NON CON where Mafia JK fell in love at first sight with innocent reader and bought her in an auction. He is obsessed with her so he marries her and deflowered her, stuffing his thick manhood in her and. JK has a bloodplay kink. He wouldn’t stop fucking her until she passed out everyday. Milking her dry from orgasms. Thank you 💜

-> Thank you for the reassurance❣️

⚠️: BLOOD PLAY, NON CON, human trafficking, virgin reader, physical, mental & emotional abuse, little/innocent!reader, ddlg-ish, manipulation

“Get the hell up, you have to get ready.”

The man kicked you in your stomach and grabbed your arm, pulling you upstairs to the bathroom

“Wear this dress and fix up your face.”

He left the bathroom and you quickly jumped into the shower

Today was the “big day”

You were being auctioned off

Obviously, you were terrified and nervous

However, your current “owners” said that if someone doesn’t buy you today, they’ll make your life a living hell

They were hungry for money and if no one wanted you, you would’ve been a big waste of their money, time and energy

Well, not really — they just needed to blame someone for their lack of success

Plus, you’re the first person that they’re selling

They kidnapped you when you were walking home from the train station

You didn’t have much family nor friends which kinda made you the perfect target

You cooperated with your two “owners” because you didn’t want to get hurt

Yet, it still happened anyways

They’d often kick you, or slap you, or pull your hair

Nevertheless, you didn’t complain because you wanted to stay out of trouble

When you finished getting ready, your “owners” tied your arms and legs together and threw you into the trunk

The auction event was big

You could tell that you this event had plenty of rich and powerful people just by looking at all the cars

Your owners took you inside through the back door and told you to fix your hair

Once you did, they dragged you behind the stage and made you wait there for nearly 3 hours

There were other girls lined up in front and behind you, half looking terrified and half looking excited

In those three hours you overheard some girls talking about a certain man they wished to be bought by

Those were the girls who were “excited”

They were talking about how they went “all out” to impress him

You tend to not judge people but, you couldn’t help yourself

Who the fuck wants to be sold to anyone?

You couldn’t wrap your head around their thought process

They were practically gushing about this mafia guy who was supposedly young and handsome

Even if he was, why the hell would you want to be someone else’s property?

You muted their voices so you didn’t have to hear their nonsense and soon enough the auction started

One by one, girls and boys went up on stage and the bidding started

You were surprised because some of those girls got sold for only a couple hundred bucks

When it was your turn, your owners basically dragged you on stage and held you wrist as tight as they could so you couldn’t run

“A young, ripe, virgin finishing up university. Starting bid, $50,000.”

One by one, people raised their auction paddles and offered more for you

Your owners went wide eyed after the bids started increasing by $10,000

You eventually passed 1 million and were near 2 million

Random old men were raising their paddles higher and higher, determined to buy you

Eventually one of them had enough and said “5 million dollars!”

The room went silent and your owners were about to say “sold!” when someone interrupted and said “10 million dollars”

Even your mouth dropped

10 million?!

The man stood up and walked closer to the stage

Your two owners recognized him and started bowing multiple times

“S-She’s all yours, Mr. Jeon! Thank you so much. Please take her.”

This was the first time you saw the two males scared and nervous

And it kinda frightened you

It took a lot to scare those two but, this guy did it effortlessly

So, what in the world would happen to you?

You got dragged off stage again and the auction continued

You were dragged into a private room where the man who had just bought you gave the two men 10 million in cash

7 brief cases stacked on top of each other, full of hundreds

The two males happily accepted and let you go with the man

He didn’t want to stick around for the event so, he pulled you out of the building and pushed you into the car

“Anders, drive us home.”

The car ride was silent in the beginning

You’re eyes were glued on the window and his were glued on his phone

About an hour later, you fell asleep against the window and he noticed

He slapped you across the face and pulled you’re body away from the door

“What’re you sleeping for? You did absolutely nothing today. Do you think you’re some kind of princess? Do you think can sleep wherever you want whenever you want? Keep your eyes open. If I catch you sleeping again, I’ll make you regret it.”

Tears gathered in your eyes and you couldn’t hold it in

You started to sniffle, making Jungkook look over at you

“Shut up! If I hear you cry, I’ll force you to walk all the way home, barefoot”

You covered your mouth with your hand and lowered your head

After taking a moment to breathe normally, you apologized

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows

“How do you know my last name?”

“I heard my owners call you by that na-”

Another smack on your cheek, this time a little harder

“How dare you call them your owners?!”

Your eyes held so much terror, and it was a turn on for Jungkook

That was the moment he realized how much control he had over you

You were so naive and innocent, it made him want to ruin you

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jeon! I didn’t realize! It was an honest mistake.”

“Just wait until we get home” he muttered under his breath but you were able to make it out

You were terrified and rightfully so

Once you got home, Jungkook didn’t have any mercy on you

You were running from him, not knowing where you were going

You ran upstairs into a large bedroom and locked the door

“Please, don’t hurt me!” You cried, clutching onto the top of your dress that he ripped apart

You thought he was on the other side of the door, calming down but the closet door busted open and there he was

You tried to open the room door but he was faster and pulled you back onto the bed

“Already causing so much trouble for me, little one.”

He hovered over you

“I’m sorry. I’m scared. Please, don’t kill me.”

You started to cry under him

You looked so precious, begging for your life

He couldn’t resist

He took off his suit and ripped your dress open

Underneath, you were wearing a red and black lace lingerie

He let out a low growl before attacking your neck and marking you all over

“Wait! Sir! Please! Mr- agh! Mr- Mr. Jeon! No! I’ll give you money! Please! I can give you all the money in my bank account if you just let me go! $59,000 is all I have! I can-”

Jungkook started to chuckle against your neck

“59,000 dollars? That’s all? You expect me to set you free after you give me 59,000 dollars?”

He laughed right in your face which broke your heart

It was your hard earned money

You hated to see someone discredit your hard work just like that

You frowned and got tearful

“It’s all the money I have.”

You said in a quavering voice

Jungkook looked at you

You were dead serious

“I bought you for 10 million dollars and you want me to set you free for $59,000. Anyone with a brain would deny that offer.”

He slapped you again and continued on

Jungkook sucked your neck, breast and chest; leaving dark, purple marks all over

“Wait! Mr. Jeon, I-I’m actually waiting till m-marriage.”

“That doesn’t matter, anymore. You’ll be getting married to me, anyways.”

“No! Please!”

Jungkook pulled down your underwear and rubbed two fingers up your slit, making you shiver

“So pretty. I can’t wait anymore.”

He pulled out his thick shaft and you started to panic

“No! No, no, please! I don’t want this! I don’t want to do this, please!”

He spat on your opening for some lub and pushed his whole length in harshly

You groaned in pain when he did but couldn’t fight back

Your hands were against his chest but, pushing him off wasn’t easy

He started thrusting inside of you at a cruel speed, causing you gasp really loudly before wailing

“Hey! Stop! Please! It hurts!”

Jungkook pinned your wrist next to your head and fucked you deeply

After hours of fucking, cum and blood covered his cock and the bedsheet

He smeared the blood and cum mix all over your body

“Look at you, covered in your virgin blood mixed with my cum. You look so pretty.”

You were mumbling incoherent words, unable to think straight

He forced three orgasms out of you, of course you weren’t able to think straight

Sweat covered your forehead and your tight hole was leaking cum and blood

He pushed in one more time and began fucking you hard

You were squealing under him, telling him to stop yet he slapped your ass and grabbed your throat

“Your cunt seems to love my cock. That’s why you’re cumming so much around me. So stop telling me that it hurts because I know it’s a lie.”

One more deep push and you both came together

He laid down next to you and pulled you onto his chest

“Next week, you’ll officially be mine.”

You weren’t listening

Because you were passed out

It was your first time and he had made you cum at least 17 times

It would be surprising if you didn’t pass out

Jungkook didn’t lie when he said that you’ll be his in the next week

He made one phone call and whoever was on the end of the line planned a huge wedding in a week

You woke up one day and were forced into a white gown

Once you put the pieces together, you had a panic attack

You were getting married to this man you’ve only known for a week

You were being so uncooperative to the point where Jungkook had to come to you and set you straight

He quickly fucked you back into submission and made you get ready for your wedding

After your wedding, loads of fucking

You guys didn’t even show up to your reception party because Jungkook could not stop fucking you

And it continued like this for a very long time

You weren’t sure how you were still producing cum

Every morning, every night, sometimes in the middle of the day, he wants to have sex

It’s not like he’s slow or gentle either— he’s aggressive in bed, it’s tough to handle him

You usually end up passing out and even that doesn’t stop him

The next morning you wake up tired and sore however, he wakes up needy and wanting more

Sometimes he’ll fuck you hard enough to make you pass out right in the morning

Even when he comes back from a mission, he still has the energy to fuck you

You just don’t understand

For weeks, you can’t walk straight because of him

And it hurts to put any sort of pressure on your lower abdomen

Despite all of that, you still love him

After all the manipulation and brain washing he’s done to you, he’s convinced you that you’re in love with him

And that you won’t survive without him

You’ve been craving for love and attention for your whole life and Jungkook was finally giving some

Why would you want the person who makes you feel loved and appreciated gone from your life?

Jungkook used guilt tripping to make you stay with him

Not to mention, taking advantage of your toxic past

Stockholm syndrome ending for the win 🥇

Sorry for any mistakes!! Have a good day<3

#jungkook smut #jungkook yandere #non con #bts smut #mail: 📭

433 notes · View notes

helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

What is Real? (Adrenaline Junkie Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: PTSD, memory loss, swearing, angst, panic attack

Word count: 3,509

You opened your eyes to the dim sunlight pouring through your curtains. You tried to move your arms to push yourself up, but strangely your right arm felt incredibly stiff. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you looked down at it. Nothing was off about it, so why was it so stiff? It made no sense.

With great difficulty, you slowly maneuvered your legs over the side of your bed. Everything felt incredibly stiff, especially your right wing, and your head felt like it was filled to the brim with cotton. Groaning, you heaved yourself off the bed into a standing position. You wobbled slightly on your feet, but you steadied yourself with your nightstand. What was with you today?

Hobbling out of your room with a steadying hand on the wall. You let your wings thump and drag across the ground behind you. You didn’t have the energy to hold them up and your right one felt very off. You should ask Philza to brew you a potion of healing and maybe ask him why you woke up like this. Were you in for a really bad molt?

Stumbling your way down the hallway and dragging your feet, you almost fell over a couple of times. The stairs were going to be a massive pain if you could barely walk down the hall. Your body lurched forward as your foot caught the edge of a rug. You yelped as the ground quickly met your face, your arms not cooperating when you tried to move them to catch yourself.

Feeling a stabbing pain in your nose, you laid there for a little bit hearing the door next to you swing open. Without looking at him, your scratchy, muffled voice called out.

“Wilby, thank god you’re here. Can you help me up? My legs aren’t working today for whatever reason. I think I’m gonna molt soon.”

He gently pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you in a hug, smooshing your face into his shoulder. You pulled away slightly to look up at him. He was smiling widely at you and his face looked blotchy. Wilbur never cried in front of anyone, so naturally you were incredibly worried for your older brother.

“Wil, are you crying?”

He just pulled you into another tight hug. Hissing in discomfort, you felt him push on your sore muscles.

“Wil, as much as I love you, can you please let me go? Everything feels really sore.”

He pulled away again, giving you a little confused smile. “I’m so sorry, do you want me to take you downstairs? We can get Dad to make you a potion.”

You returned his smile. “I’d appreciate that. But can you carry me? I don’t wanna move anymore.”

“Of course.”

Chuckling, he turned around and crouched gesturing for you to get on his back. A few unsteady moments later, you were successfully on Wilbur’s back and started your much quicker journey downstairs. You rested your cheek on his back and hummed in content. You found comfort in hearing his heartbeat, even if it was beating faster than usual.

Quickly reaching the couch, he gingerly put you down on it and made sure you didn’t lay on top of your wings. They sprawled behind you over the back of the couch.

“Stay right here, I’m going to get Dad.”

He walked outside with large strides, leaving you by yourself in the living room. You closed your eyes and pondered why today was so strange. First, you couldn’t move this morning. Second, Wilbur, your collected older brother, was crying. Third, Philza was up and outside. Usually he’s basically unresponsive in the mornings. He would never be up and about this early.

Opening your eyes when you heard hurried footsteps rushing toward you. Why’d you get déjà vu? Why did you feel so… so scared? Your panicked eyes landed on your dad running towards you with all your brothers following suit. You relaxed seeing your family. But why did they look at you with relief and tears in their eyes? Even Technoblade looked relieved.

Philza landed on his knees next to the couch before placing a gentle hand on your cheek. His worried blue eyes scanned you and he stared at you with a gentle smile.

“...Hey hun, how are ya feelin’?”

“I’ve had better days. I just feel really stiff, I think I’m going to have a bad molt this year.”

Your brothers looked at each other with confusion. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, Philza crinkled his brows. “Hun, do you not remember what happened? You-”

Tommy interrupted, “You died. SOMETHING KILLED YOU AND YOU RESPAWNED. HOW DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THAT?”

Flinching back, you deadpanned. “Gremlin, I think I’d remember if I lost one of my lives. My entire body feels like shit, but I sure as hell didn’t die. That’s just absurd.”

Philza gently grabbed your wrist and pulled down your sleeve. Instead of the usual three red hearts that were etched into your skin, only two stared back at you. You stuttered as your brain processed what you saw. You... died? How? Why couldn’t you remember your own death?

Your thoughts were interrupted as Philza spoke up. “You died, (y/n).”

“I… How?”

Philza pursed his lips together. “You were killed by The Warden. You were out mining.”

You looked at your hands. “Who’s The Warden?”

“It’s a mob that usually spawns in subterranean caves. We’re not exactly sure how you died, but… but you died down there, (y/n). You lost a life.”

You took in a shuddering breath. How could you be so damn careless? Were you falling back into your dangerous stunts phase? Did you get yourself killed? Why couldn’t you remember anything?

“Hun, do you want me to get you a potion for the stiffness?”

“...Yes please.”

“Tommy, can you please go get them a potion of healing? WIlbur, can you get a glass of water for them?”

Without a word, Tommy and WIlbur ran out of the room, leaving you with Philza and Techno. The piglin hybrid wouldn’t even look at you. Philza ran a comforting hand through your hair as he waited for your brothers to return.

When they came back, Wilbur helped prop you up so you could drink the potion and water. They soothed your scratchy throat and you felt your body fill up with warmth. It was always nice to drink a healing potion when you were hurt. Most of the stiffness and soreness that was previously rooted deep in your muscles was alleviated and you felt some of your nerves melt away. Now only your right wing was sore. You stretched, feeling a tugging sensation on the skin of your back around the base of your right wing.

“That’s better. I think I’m going to go shower, I feel absolutely disgusting.”

Not giving your worried family any room to argue with you, you swung your legs over the side of the couch and shakily stood up. Philza tried to help steady you, but you wove him off. If you were weak enough to die, you thought, you needed to prove yourself to your family that you were strong. You needed to do things yourself.

As you were shakily making your way up the stairs, Philza was following you, probably making sure you don’t kill yourself again. He was fussing over your wellbeing, you did just die and you were acting surprisingly calm about it.

“At least let me help you preen your wing.”

“Dad, I can preen my own wings. I’m 17.”

“I know hun. I just want to help you.”

“Dad. I can do it myself, I’ve been doing it alone since I was 10, and I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.”

Without giving him any more room to try to convince you, you closed the bathroom door in his face. You understood and appreciated that he was worried about you, but you needed to do things on your own if you were going to prove your strength to your family. You were angry that he thought you couldn’t do a simple thing by yourself. You could still hear him breathing from the other side of the door.

Peeling off your jacket, you ran your fingers along your left wing. The feathers were more out of place than usual, you must’ve gotten pretty fucked up by The Warden if they were this messy. After about 10 minutes of frustrated preening, you twisted your torso around slightly to reach for your other wing, but you couldn’t see anything. Why couldn’t you see anything? Your wings were large enough for you to completely wrap your body in them twice and then some, so it didn’t make sense to you.

Turning around to face the wall across the bathroom mirror, you spread out your wings and craned your head around to look at your right wing. Your eyes were met with a featherless nub that matched your skin tone. An ugly, discolored scar covered the entirety of the right side of your back. Without warning, memories flashed in front of your eyes at rapid fire.

A monsterous being towered over you, standing completely still. You held your breath as it just stood there. It walked away so you started to walk away. Everything lit up as you started to run from the thing chasing you. Blood pounded in your ears as panic engulfed your entire being as you tried to fly away, but you were caught. It effortlessly swung you around as it screamed. You felt your wing rip from your body and you flew across the cave. You couldn’t breathe. What did you do to deserve this?

“../n).”

You reached around to feel your wing, but you only grabbed the bone sticking out of your body. You felt anguish as you realized that you just lost a limb. You watched it drag your wing into the depths of the cave, leaving you completely and utterly alone as you slowly died.

“...(y/n)..”

You were crying in pain as you felt everything that happened crash down on you all at once. You laid there for what felt like hours as you sobbed and dry heaved. You prayed to whatever god was above that you would be put out of your misery soon. You felt as your body slowly got colder and colder. You were drifting in and out of consciousness. You couldn’t breathe. Please, for the love of god, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it sto-

“(Y/N).”

You saw a hazy figure in front of you. You felt someone’s hands gripping your shoulders in a firm grasp, you thrashed about trying to get out of it’s grip. You saw the monster that took your wing from you. The thing that killed you. You threw your arms about blindly in a desperate attempt to land a hit to try and get it to let you go. The only reason it let you go in the cave was when your wing was torn off, was it going to take your arms too?

You felt a smack as your hand collided with what you guessed was its grotesque face. It yelped and jumped back, releasing its grip on you. Its yelp strangely sounded like your dad’s voice. Your mind was probably playing tricks on you, your dad wasn’t here. You needed to get out. You scrambled up to your feet and bolted. You weren’t going to get killed again, especially by that thing.

“(Y/N)!”

How did it know your name? More importantly, how was it talking to you? You were probably still in the cave bleeding out as your delirious mind turned stone into the comforting walls of your home. You were probably imagining hearing your dad’s voice in a last chance to comfort yourself as you neared your impending doom.

Running down the hall, you made your way to the stairs. You couldn’t jump over the banister, you would probably break your legs again without both of your wings. Your vision was tunneling as you only focused on how to get out and away from the monster. When you were halfway down the stairs, you saw Tommy sprinting up to you looking panicked. No one deserves to die in the way you did, especially not him.

“Oh my god, Tommy we need to get you out of here, it’s coming for us.”

He grabbed your shoulders and bent over to look you in the eye, “(y/n), whatever you’re seeing is not real, you-”

“We need to go now!”

He was cut off as you grabbed his hand and drug him down the stairs. You could hear the thing coming closer. It started to come towards you and Tommy. You yanked him along with you as you reached the living room and sprinted towards the front door. You could taste the freedom. It tasted sweet.

Right as you grasped the door handle, you felt Tommy wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back. What the fuck, did he want to die?

“Tommy, if you don’t let me go now, it’s gonna get us. Please, you don’t wanna die the way I did.”

He said nothing as he turned you around and blocked the doorway with his body. The monster turned the corner and entered your sights. You’d be damned if you let Tommy die. You were determined to protect him even if you ended up dying a second time.

You puffed up your wing and shifted your body into a stance that you hoped was threatening. Pushing Tommy behind you and shielding him with your wing, you harshly glared at it.

“You fucking bastard, ya here for seconds? Was my wing not enough for you? Well, I’ve got bad news for ya, I won’t let you kill me again. I won’t let you near my brother.”

“(Y/n), it’s me,” it croaked out in your dad’s voice and started to slowly walk towards you, holding its arms up. Why wasn’t it shambling like it did in the cave? You felt more fear well up in your gut as you stepped back.

“You’ve got a lotta audacity to use my father’s voice against me. I’ll rip you to shreds if you step any closer to us. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.”

It stepped back, it’s mouth impossibly frowning more as more drool pooled from its mouth. Tommy wrapped his arms around yours as he bound you to his chest. Thrashing, you desperately tried to get out of his hold.

“TOMMY WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? DO YOU WANT TO DIE? THAT THING IS RUTHLESS, IT WILL TEAR YOU APART LIMB BY LIMB JUST LIKE IT DID TO ME. DO YOU WANT THAT?”

He once again said nothing. You felt your hair on the top of your head start to dampen. You heard more footsteps running to you. Techno and Wilbur appeared behind the monster. They looked absolutely terrified. Were you going to watch your older brothers die?

Your chest heaved as you looked at them with wide eyes. “Tech, Wil please, for the love of god run while you still can. It’s in front of you.”

They glanced at each other before Wilbur grabbed the monster’s arm. You screamed in horror as it looked at him. To your confusion, Wilbur wasn’t grabbed. He just gently led the monster away into the kitchen.

“I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU TOUCH A SINGLE HAIR ON HIS HEAD, YOU’LL MEET A FATE WORSE THAN MINE. I WILL MAKE SURE YOU SUFFER MORE THAN I DID, YOU GODDAMNED FREAK.”

Your hoarse screaming was interrupted as Tommy squeezed you against his chest tighter. Techno slowly approached you, making sure that you saw his every move, and bent over to look you in the eye. Tommy’s arms tightened around you, scared that you were going to lash out at Technoblade.

“(Y/n), The Warden isn’t here. You’re home, you’re not in the cave. You’re safe.”

You studied his face. Was he even real? Was any of this real? He looked real. Then again, everything around you looked real.

“I… Tech, are-are you real? Is any of this real?”

Techno pulled you out of Tommy’s arms and pulled you into his own tight embrace. He pressed a hand on the back of your head and pushed your face into his shoulder, rocking you back and forth. Your forehead tickled where you felt the end of his braid brush against your skin. You started to sob into his chest.

“Tech, I was so scared. I… I thought I was gonna die again. Please don’t let me die.”

“The Warden isn’t here, (y/n). I’m real. The house is real. You are home. No one else is here besides Dad, Wilbur, Tommy, me, and you. You’re safe. We won’t let you die again.”

He repeated the same things over like a mantra. With each reassurance, you felt yourself calm down. Techno’s soothing, monotone voice gave you something that wasn’t too overstimulating to center your focus on. You cried until you didn’t have any tears left to cry. Even after you were done crying, Techno continued to rock you back and forth, caressing your hair on the crown of your head like he did when you were kids.

The voices in his head have been screaming at him nonstop since he saw that they had lost a life earlier in the day. They were telling him that he was stupid for letting you go mining alone. That he was a failure for letting you die alone. He couldn’t hear his own thoughts. He could only attempt to comfort you while trying to ignore the voices.

Tommy stood stiff at the door watching you two. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do. His older sibling was always calm and collected. He’s never seen you react like that. He’s never seen you so terrified. You were always the one to comfort him, never the other way around. You were there to give him hugs when he scraped his knee as a child. You were there when he’d have nightmares. You always made sure that he was alright. He was truly stumped.

Meanwhile in the dining room, Philza sat at the head of the table staring blankly at his folded hands placed in his lap. Wilbur had pulled up a chair to sit next to him, rubbing his back in small circles. The two didn’t speak to each other. Instead, they were listening to your heartbreaking sobs as Techno’s deep voice rumbled lowly underneath your sobbing.

Wilbur didn’t know how to comfort his dad. Hell, he didn’t know how to comfort himself. His little sibling just died, forgot about it, and remembered it in the span of six short hours. Your death must’ve been traumatizing if you were reliving it. He didn’t know how to comfort you, he always was the one, besides Philza, to comfort you when you were upset as a kid. He felt completely lost.

Philza remembered how he felt his heart drop when he heard you start to scream from the other side of the bathroom door. The instinct to comfort his child overpowered his rational thought as he opened the door. He found you curled in on yourself on the ground with your only wing tightly wrapped around you mid panic attack. He asked you multiple times if it was alright to touch you, but you never responded. You just kept your eyes screwed shut. He was crouched in front of you trying to get you out of your trance before he decided to put his hands on your shoulders. That made you finally open your eyes. He tried to give you a smile, but you started to flail your arms. He dodged the best he could, but your movements were too erratic and you ended up smacking him across the face.

He felt so scared for you when you ran away from him in a panic. He thought you were going to hurt yourself when you reached the stairs. He felt like someone tore his heart out and stomped on it when he realized that you were afraid of him. You saw him as your murderer. When you started to threaten him, he saw just how terrified you were of dying again. How terrified you were of him killing you. You didn’t react when tears started to slip down his cheeks. He didn’t care that you were threatening him, he cared that his own child was terrified of him.

At the moment, you were slowly fading out of consciousness in your brother's hold. You felt completely drained physically, emotionally, and mentally. You barely registered Techno picking you up and carrying you up the stairs to your room, laying you on your bed. He even covered your wing with your blanket.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added to the series taglist): @acecarddraws @goldenstarofthunderclan @ravennightingaleandavatempus @dirtydiavolo @immadatmostthings @hee-hee-haw @jackalopedoodles @m1lkmandan @vanhakirja @im-a-depressed-gay @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @questioning-sanity @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @kakamiissad @lifestylesleep @speedymaximoff @sun-shark-tooth @camisascam @yeiras-world @jayistrash

#sbi x reader #platonic #sibling reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #angst #tw: ptsd #tw: swearing #tw: panic attack #tw: depersonalization

733 notes · View notes

alluringjae · 3 years

Text

queen of hearts - sjn

summary: for the first time, one of your star students hasn’t been fetched right after class. but when she finally does, you weren’t expecting such a fine man to be her father.

pairing: johnny x female reader

word count: 5.5k

genre: fluff, romance, comedy | ceo and single dad!johnny + ballerina!reader + modern day!au

warnings: mentions of an absent parent, johnny being an overthinker, sexual innuendos (ten saying dilf hehe), slight explicit language, technical terms of ballet, a mini reference to mean girls

author’s note: sooo i came in touch with my former dance life, which led me to write this. there are links for the variations i used; their names are underlined when they’re mentioned. i am going to get technical with ballet terms here (even when my ballet knowledge decreased), so to any dancers reading, i really did my best, so please don’t come for me or do correct me for any mistakes.

although one character and her dance background, plus the name of the setting, are real, everything else about it is still a work of fiction.

i miss dancing, no cap.

leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Ballet student and teacher by day, a soloist of the Korean National Ballet at night.

This was your daily routine, and it wasn’t the typical 8-5. But it’s debatable whether or not it was worse, because you’re always going overtime. That’s the thing when you’re an overachiever. Nonetheless, you loved what you do. It’s the lifestyle you gradually built since your preschool days.

Mornings on the weekdays were mostly vacant since all the kids were still in school. You’d start at 10 am for a warm-up class for the company. Before you delved into teaching and assisting, you’d train right after your lunch break. Partnering class, en pointe class, 1-on-1 sessions with choreographers, self-practice, then the company night class, that’s the organization of your week.

Now adding the teacher title, you mostly handled kindergartners to 5th graders in the academy aspect of the company. Your first teaching class would start at 1 pm. It’s when the younger students who finished their morning classes zoom into your assigned dance studio. One class would last an hour and a half, then you have a 30-minute break in between another class with the older kids. Their lesson repertoire was more strenuous due to the added across-the-floor lessons and jumps. Water was always your best friend, water refilling stations located everywhere in the company building.

You wouldn’t say you’re a strict teacher, but you weren’t shy to correct anyone from wherever you stood. You’d lightly align their arms or back properly so your students were working on the correct body parts. Compared to the other teachers, a lot of students enjoyed your kind yet frank approaches. Your former students, who’ve already gone to the higher levels, missed your lively presence and wished repeatedly that they want you back as their teacher.

“Teacher (Y/N), I miss you so much! Teacher Ten is so intense. I get the jitters especially when we’re en pointe on the floor.”

“Teacher (Y/N), Teacher Sicheng and Teacher Seulgi scare the heck out of me during partnering class. Especially when I tried to lift my partner, I keep losing focus because of Teacher Sicheng’s never-ending comments!”

Not to be sadistic, but you’d simply laugh at their minuscule complaints. Even if they’re struggling in the academy, those comments were directed to fix their techniques if they wanted to breakthrough.

“Kids, you’re going to be fine! They wouldn’t say or do those things just because they wanted to. They’re here to push you to the next level, like how I used to do with you. It’s a cut-throat industry after all.”

This was always your reply, bittersweet and truthful. Not everyone makes it, unfortunately, so if you’re really striving, you’d do whatever it takes. Throughout your career, you’re relatively impressed with how far you’ve come.

Trainee at 17, Corps de Ballet at 18, Demi-Soloist at 21, and Soloist at 23.

You’ve been a soloist for 4 years. The final stage, which was to become a principal dancer, is your running goal. Becoming a soloist was praiseworthy enough because you’ve seen so many give up in the Corps, but claiming a spot as a principal dancer has been the ultimate dream. Since you’ve watched Swan Lake for the first time at 4 years old with your parents, that’s where you found a passion for dancing and the stage. Here you are years later, practicing numerous variations daily, performing in opera houses, and mentoring all these gifted kids.

Your last class with elementary kids, which began around 5 pm, reached its end once all the students curtsied in front of you and scurried to their mothers or their nannies. The remaining plan on your agenda today was the company class at 7:30 pm, which exceeds the average hour and a half. It’s worse during show season. There have been times everyone went beyond midnight to polish every scene from head to toe.

Currently, there’s no upcoming show for the public, though the annual summer recital for the students was around the corner. Selected members of the company were chosen to perform individually in it, which was both exciting and intense. It’s also because it’s an evaluation on whether you’d get promoted in status or staying put. You’ve partaken in 3 recitals in the past, two of which elevated you from the corps and demi-soloist ranks. The recent one, however, didn’t change your soloist ranking.

It was a major first in your career in ballet, and after finding out the result of the latter, it emotionally pained you. Recalling how much soul you put into that piece, the rejection from your artistic director clenched your heart. Though in time, you moved on from it and viewed it as a stepping stone. Also, Sicheng and Ten personally stormed your apartment to pull yourself together with wine and pizza after going on a short leave.

Since you were trainees, Sicheng and Ten were your best friends in and outside the company. Working daily to occasional barhopping, that’s your youth summed up. It wasn’t because you didn’t like the girls you’ve worked with (though a lot of them were fake and bitchy), but these two were frank and humorous as hell. Together, you’d help each other with your goals rather than be competitive. Over time, Ten leveled up to a principal dancer for 2 years running while you and Sicheng were still soloists. The way you’d watch Ten take all the big roles, that’s where you want to be one day.

Back in your last teaching class, the entire dance room was vacant. Since it’s mainly used for ballet classes, you’d either run through anything you’ve practiced from the company classes and polish it or warm up a little bit more.

Except for today, this was the only free time to sew a new pair of pointe shoes because your current ones were dead. Dead in a sense that the hard shell turned soft, which won’t be able to support you when you’re up on your toes. You’re not taking any risks of minor injuries especially when you’re in the current lineup of company members performing for this upcoming recital again. You have to prove to everyone that you deserve a position as a principal dancer.

As your legs sprawled in a half middle split, your sewing equipment laid in front of you like you’re about to perform surgery, a tiny girl stood by the ajar studio doors. In her neat bun and holding on to her small duffel bag, you’re convinced everyone has gone home already since it’s quite late.

You may have your priorities as a company member, but she was still your student.

“Minji!” You shouted her name, speedily waving your hand. You’re not one to have favorites, though you couldn’t help wonder how extraordinary she was. She’s always taking charge in demonstrating the lessons to everyone and improving every session in the 3 years she’s joined the academy. “Come in! Come in!”

At age 7, she’s gotten taller through the years, above the average from how you see it. She must have amazing genetics. Her legs sauntered in seconds to you. Sitting down across you, she marveled at your setup. Specifically, at the fresh pointe shoes.

“Are those yours, Teacher (Y/N)?” She perked up, caressing its soft fabric and playing with the mini bows of the drawstrings.

“Yes, it is, Minji!” You answered while trying to insert the thin thread through the small eye of the needle. “Why are you still here? Is your nanny stuck in traffic or something?”

“My nanny went on sudden leave, so my dad’s the one fetching me. But I think he’s running late from his job.”

Oh, this was a first to know about her father. In all the years she’s been your student, you rarely caught sight of him, even in recitals. Maybe he sat in an unknown section, but you’re pretty much acquainted with all the parents of your students. Even if some were snobbier than the rest because they wanted their child to have more stage time, you still got to know them out of respect. Quite odd, if you said so yourself.

After deep concentration, the thread triumphantly passed through the eye so you tied the two ends of the thread in a double knot. Seeing as Minji attentively watched you, you tasked her to cut the ribbons of your shoes according to the trail of pencil marks. This was so she wouldn’t cut it too short or too long. While she did that, you hammered your shoes against the floor to soften the hard front, bending the shank back and forth so the arch of your feet could move without difficulty later.

Minji wasn’t expecting such loud sounds, her entire body shaken awake. Her facial expression was priceless, explaining to her, “Once you get your first pointe shoes in a few years, this is one of the basic things you need to do so your feet won’t hurt too much while dancing.”

“Will you be there to teach me how to make my pointe shoes?”

“Absolutely! Come to me first then I’ll mentor you all that I know.”

The process of sewing and breaking new pointe shoes engraved your mind since your adolescent years, with changes along the way. Inspired by some tricks from your former teachers, but there were some differing rituals you followed. There’s no definite process of it, just as long you’re comfortable to dance after.

With your feet, you stepped on the hard boxes of the shoes to soften it more, creating a popping sound. Followed by sewing your elastic bands in. For your ribbons, you liked to burn the edges with a lighter so the thread of it won’t run. Kindly asking your cute assistant for the lighter beside her, you scanned the edges back and forth the flame. In seconds, the edges had a distinct mark, fully closed. From there, you slid your feet to your shoes to make final sewing adjustments. Sewing your ribbons took you another few minutes, plus adding superglue inside the shoe so the shoe won’t collapse when it unstiffens and scratching the shank with a cutter so you won’t slip later while dancing.

Voila, the final product is done! Hopefully, it can last you a week at least.

“Wow, Teacher (Y/N), it looks pretty!” Minji applauded, collecting the mess you’ve both made to dispose of later. You, on the other hand, gave her your thanks once you applied some bandages on your big toes and put on your toe pads. Slipping inside the shoes and tying them, you rose up back to your feet and headed to the bar to break them in. From plies-relevésto forced arches, the shoes gave you the sensation that they were an extension of your feet. The ease flowed through, meaning you were ready to practice your variations.

While you stepped your shoes in rosin for friction, your curious student moved to the front where the mirror lied to watch what you’ve prepared.

“What variation are you dancing to?”

“This is the Gamzatti variation from La Bayadere.” You replied, tapping the play button on your phone and racing to your position on the side. Talking a short ballet walk, you strongly prepared your arms before the music of the orchestra takes off.

This variation consisted of a lot of jumps and turns. Grand jetés, attitude turns, chaîné turns, you needed a lot of core control and proper spotting so you won’t get dizzy. The thrilling music lessened your nerves because you enjoyed learning this piece from one of the principal dancers, smiling and letting the music guide your legs. Once you nailed 3 consecutive grand jetés, the variation ended with a sus-sous and the wrists of your hands flicking upwards.

Holding it for 5 more seconds, you landed back on your feet with heavy breathing and a need for water. But before you could, small claps and cheers from Minji in front erupted. Momentarily, you’ve forgotten her presence because dancing solo puts you in your own space. You’d never let anyone take you away from it.

“Teacher (Y/N), that was wonderful! Are you performing that in the summer recital?”

Yikes, she’s right but she wasn’t meant to see it yet. Solo performances from the company members for the recital were top secret, only unveiled during the production rehearsal. Well, you didn’t think this through, but you didn’t mind.

“Can you keep a secret?”

Time ticked a lot faster today, only 10 minutes left until the company class on the ground floor whereas you were in the second. Just a few steps down the stairs away, yet Minji was still here. You only presumed that within your hour break, her father could’ve made it already. But maybe he’s stuck in traffic or at work.

“Minji, my class starts soon. Have you contacted your father?”

“I already texted him earlier, but he hasn’t responded. This happens often, he’s a busy man.” She bowed in front of you suddenly. “I’m sorry, Teacher (Y/N) for the hassle.”

“Oh no, please!” You shook your hands so she’d stop. Because this situation was relatively new, you were unsure of how to handle it. Or that was until you remembered what Ten texted you earlier. “Minji, the blinds of the main studio are going to be lifted so anyone from the outside can view us practicing. Would you like to watch until your dad gets here?”

With her insistent nodding, she situated herself in one of the seats in the front row. When you entered the main studio, your two close companions already carried a metal barre to the center and leaned towards it while observing you walking to them in your flat shoes.

“I see we have a bit of an audience here.” Ten glimpsed at the young girl, astonished by the many dancers prepping and chatting away with their cliques from the glass barrier.

“Her dad isn’t here yet, and you did say the blinds were up today. Might as well give her a show while she waits, you know.” You lifted your right leg to the top barre, stretching it with your arms.

“Hmmm, shouldn’t her dad be more cautious though? It’s getting late and it’s a Thursday. Doesn’t she have school or something?” Sicheng pointed out, discarding his muscle tee to straighten out his leotard.

“That’s not my business though. She’s just my student, and since she’s still here, I have to entertain her while she waits.”

Before your friends said anything back, the artistic director of the ballet company strutted her way to the center of the room. It’s a common rule here that once she entered, everyone must be silent to listen and race to any free spot in the numerous barres spread out if they haven’t.

“Alright, everyone. We’ll do the typical barre, then before doing across the floor exercises, I’ll be requesting those performing solos already in the recital to dance any variation tonight as another evaluation on who deserves to perform twice.” She eyed the pianist directly beside her. “Proceed first with two demi-pliés then one grand plié. Don’t forget to do the port de bras of each position.”

As the live piano music played, your focus was divided. Partly properly executing the exercise while your artistic director roamed each barre area, partly thinking about what variation to perform. This was a first for the company, and everyone was just stunned to hear the breaking news. It’d be nice to get an extra opportunity to showcase to people your potential.

30-40 minutes flew by quickly. As the guys carried the bars to the side to clear out the floor and the girls changed to their pointe shoes, the artistic director ordered all the performers of the recitals to stand in a line in front of her. Everyone else was seated around the room, so the interested eyes of everyone were on you. There were 10 performers, half are from the corps and the other half are either demi-soloists or soloists. You and Sicheng stood beside each other, internally shaking with nerves under the intimidating eyes of the artistic director. She used to be a principal dancer for the Stuttgart Ballet in Germany before moving back to Seoul, making her undeniably capable of leading all of you.

“Okay,” From her seated position observing the 10 performers, her finger pointed at you directly. “Ms. (Y/L/N) (Y/N), you perform first.”

Your nerves intensified and more sweat streamed out your upper body. Even if going first felt more relieving, no one was ever brave enough to perform individually in front of the esteemed artistic director. Principal dancers aside from Ten that you’re close with were intimidated when they have 1-on-1 or partnering sessions with her. But anyhow, in less than 2 minutes, you’d be done. This wasn’t the first time she’s had your full attention either, so you’ll treat it like the other individual performances you’ve had.

You smiled to yourself when the other soloists left you alone, while you gave the name of the variation you’re dancing to the pianist. Running to the side to put on a practice tutu, the artistic director asked, “What will you be dancing for us tonight, (Y/N)?”

“I’ll be dancing Queen of the Dryads from Don Quixote.”

The last time you did this variation was 3 years ago during the recital that didn’t change your position as a soloist. Even if this variation hurt to think about for a while, it was still one of your favorites to watch and do. Moving on, you could only muse how powerful and beautiful you felt at that time. This isn’t an easy piece to perform in your opinion. Yet according to the members of the company, this was their favorite solo of yours.

As the starting notes unfolded, you took a deep breath and elegantly walked into the frame. You only wished you wore your fake crown again for this. Minimal smiling and light arms, you imagined yourself as an actual queen who captured the eyes of many. In this case, your fellow seniors and juniors held their breaths at the captivating sight of you.

Off you go into a series of glissade jeté developpé on relevé at elevating heights, then a fouetté arabesque and another arabesque on relevé before ballet walking again to the side to dance across the stage. Sissonne to the front, right developpé to the front on relevé, pique to prepare for a single pirouette, you gracefully did a chassé to the front twice and stood on your toes with a sus-sous.

Doing it a few more times, the climax of the entire variation was nearing. Returning to the center, you took another deep breath and lifted your left leg for the Italian fouettés. Spotting to the front and back while maintaining your balance, the variation approached its end with lame duck turns, posing with your arms were positioned at a 45-degree angle, your back slightly arched and your left leg doing a tendu derriére. Your eyes reflected at the mirror in front, surveying your alignment. Once your 5-second hold was finished, you properly put your arms down and closed your back leg into 5th position.

The applause from everyone in the room roared, Ten and Sicheng wolf-whistling even for more support. It’s a usual thing every time any of you perform individually, and no one minded it. The artistic director grinned, giving a quiet clap from the front before calling out the next performer, who was from the corps. Bowing to everyone hastily, you paid more attention to spot your student by the window. She was smiling ear to ear, waving both hands at you.

“You did amazing, Teacher!” She mouthed. Hearing words of praise from members was one thing, but hearing them from students was another. You’re so used to watching them and giving them your compliments that you often forget that you’re a dancer first before a teacher. Seeing them all delighted, saying that it motivates them more, showed that you’re doing a great job teaching them. You’re a reflection of what you pass down, and all you want was for them to be the best they could be.

From her jolly expression, a tall masculine silhouette hovered a part of the window. Her instinct of giving a brighter smile when the hand of said silhouette patted her head then carried her duffel bag again, that could only mean one thing. Excusing yourself to the artistic director, you stepped out to bid your goodbye and maybe meet her father. Minji and the tall man were about to leave the building if it weren’t for your breathy voice calling them out.

“Seo Minji and Mr. Seo?”

They stopped their tracks. Minji was fast to react, familiar with your voice and racing towards you for a sweaty hug. Meanwhile, your focus shifted once the masculine silhouette came into full view. You finally understood why Minji’s growth spurt spiked up, noticing that he was taller than Sicheng.

The top buttons of his shirt were off, yet he kept his formal blazer on. His hair was a bit tousled, some strands falling in front of his forehead. He must’ve run here. Peeking through were some roots of his scruff growing. His eyebags were almost as dark as his brown hair. Yet by the way his Rolex remained spotless, you blatantly assumed that he was more than well-off. Especially when the ballet academy was one of the most prestigious ones in Seoul.

Out of all the parents you’ve met, none of them appeared youthful like him.

“Teacher (Y/N)?” Thanks to Minji, you moved your staring eyes away from him. This was another first, since meeting only the fathers of your students wasn’t your norm. Meeting young-looking fathers, to be specific.

“O-Oh,” You ate your words, suddenly blanking out. “You’re leaving me without saying goodbye, Minji? Not polite of you.”

“My father was rushing right after watching your performance, and I don’t know why.” She responded, her finger scratching the top of her head in confusion. Speaking of said father, his strong presence appeared right in front of you. The wrinkles of his forehead creased while his eyes barely looked at yours.

“Uhm,” His fingers toyed with his Rolex. “I apologize for my tardiness. I got caught up in work and all, plus her nanny le-”

“Mr. Seo.” You halted his rambling, already aware of the situation. Like father, like daughter. “It’s fine. Minji loved watching us practice while waiting, and she wasn’t a bother either. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Phew.” He swiped an imaginative bead of sweat from his forehead, displaying his relief with his playful nature.

At age 23, Johnny Seo started his own company in the fashion scene and it grew internationally in the coming years. Then when Minji unexpectedly joined the picture, he’s been multi-tasking to make ends meet. Lately, as a CEO, he has had meetings and conferences on a daily. So, his position as a single father was always tested. It worsened when he rarely has proper time to spend any time with Minji unless it’s the weekend or late in the evening. Breaking it down, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to meet you. It was more like he couldn’t when his schedules were packed from head to toe.

Having the guilt of taking your precious time, “Seriously though, I am sorry for being late. Her nanny resigned suddenly, and I have no time to find her replacement.”

“Mr. Seo, again, don’t worry about it. As her teacher and a company member, I am practically here 24/7 so it won’t be a nuisance at all if this happens again.”

“Thank you so much, Teacher (Y/N). That is your name, right?” He planted his palm on his forehead, stressed. “Being a single parent is hard. I am always forgetting things.”

A part of you couldn’t restrain from feeling sorry for his struggle. Taking care of a child should be the work of both the mother and father, not one of them being absent. You’ve feared this would harm Minji, but she’s a strong girl.

“The fact you didn’t forget to fetch Minji despite the late time is still something to be happy over. I’m not a parent or anything, but parenting, in general, is a challenge.” You added an insight, patting the head of the young girl beside you. “Cut yourself some slack, Mr. Seo. I’m sure Minji still loves you, right?”

Minji shouted a big yes, now clinging to the leg of her father. “It’s okay, dad. Really.”

Over the years, Johnny has been doubtful of his parenting skills. He was an only child, and he struggled to ask for guidance from his own parents due to the shame of having a kid at a young age. So, he’d ask for help from his other friends and co-workers. No matter how many times they’ve reassured him that he’s doing well, he’s an overthinker who always reflected on the bad scenarios. There’s also that pressure to find someone who can fill that absent position not just for Minji, but for himself too. No matter how many girls he’s asked out or been set up with, he failed in the love department badly.

It’s the soothing way you voiced out your truth that made all these negative thoughts running through his head freeze briefly. Over the past 3 years since Minji started ballet, she always had a great story about you to share. One of them was how ballet made her a lot happier because of your influence. If he had at least an hour of his day to meet any of his daughter’s mentors, it would’ve been you.

“Do feel free to call me Johnny instead.” He casually introduced himself, taking his hand out for you to shake. “Mr. Seo makes me feel like I’m at work right now.”

Despite his informal approach, you understood his intentions and returned the action with a promising smile. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Johnny.”

“Pleasure is all mine, Teacher (Y/N).”

Earlier, the nerves from performing in front of the artistic director died down fast. But for some reason, they rose back up when you’ve spoken to this man in a matter of minutes. As someone whose feelings don’t flourish in a single glance, why did this man specifically deliver you such a strong effect?

If it weren’t for Ten calling for your name by the door, you would’ve held on to Johnny’s hand longer, which would’ve been inappropriate. Letting go first, this was your cue to return to your class.

“I must head back inside, Johnny. Don’t sweat on fetching your daughter late, though she is still a student with school the following day. Right, Minji?”

Minji nodded as Johnny kept that mind, knowing where he has to improve next. “Yes, Teacher (Y/N). Thank you again, sincerely. I’ll definitely see you again in the coming days until Minji has a new nanny.”

“That’s no problem with me at all, Johnny.”

Soon as Johnny held his daughter’s hand to exit the studio and you were re-entering the studio with an impatient Ten, he swerved swiftly as if he forgot something.

“Oh by the way Teacher (Y/N), I saw your whole performance awhile ago. I was blown away, you deserved the applause.”

Although you could only distinguish his silhouette, you didn’t suppose he watched you from head to toe. Most parents or nannies would’ve dragged their kids out of the studio once they find them like they were on a tight schedule, so this was novel to experience. That performance showed your prime too.

“Thank you, Johnny. See you again soon.”

Giving a final nod, you led yourself back to the studio, not bothering to acknowledge the erupting heat on your cheeks and entire body. Not to sound narcissistic, but compliments weren’t foreign to you. You’re conscious of the hard work that you put in your talent and if they pointed out your greatness, why would you deny it? However, receiving one from Johnny was like gearing your engine with new fuel.

Before you could try to reject these harboring feelings, Ten was fast to pick up on it. You cannot hide anything from this man at all because body language was like another language he’s fluent in (aside from the other 5). Unlucky for you, the saga continued.

“You’re so into dilfs, (Y/N)!” He shrieked in your ear, nudging your shoulder repetitively. He placed things in his own way, yet they always shocked you because it was so inappropriate. Typical Ten for you.

“Shut up, Ten!” You objected, watching the other performers. You’ve improved in ignoring his remarks over time. That was until Sicheng sat down beside you after his solo and got up in your business. That placed you in the middle of boys from the water sign clan of astrology. They just loved getting down to your love life, going raunchy and whatnot.

“Who’s into dilfs, Ten?”

“A Miss (Y/N) beside you, who met Minji’s dad awhile ago, was basically eye-fucking him.” Ten elaborated, planting his elbows on your leg and gave you a sneaky glare. “Minji’s dad is fine as fuck, guys! I’m telling you, like a literal god! I’m surprised this is the first time he showed up here after 2-3 years?”

“How come (Y/N) is always getting students with good-looking parents? Especially the single moms.” Sicheng slumped his shoulders, attempting to get your attention too. “Is he that hot, (Y/N)?”

“Yah.” Sighing with annoyance, you’ve given up trying to appreciate one of the corps dancers with her rendition of Dulcinea from Don Quixote. “Don’t speak of Johnny like that. You barely know the man, yet you talk about him so unprofessionally."

“Oh, Johnny is his name, huh?” Sicheng sing-songed, bobbing his head. He’s certainly going to stalk him later on social media, you felt it in your chest. Like it was ESPN or something.

“Talking about being unprofessional, yet you’re here referring him as Johnny, not Mr. Seo.” Ten barked back, his lips pursed and one eyebrow lifted.

Just as soon as you could retaliate, the artistic director’s velvety voice boomed the room.

“Alright, thank you to the performers. I will deliberate with the staff and principal dancers over the weekend, and let you know the results on Monday. Now please, let’s proceed to the center.”

Everyone began to spread out on the wide floor, snatching a good position so they could monitor themselves in the mirror. Maybe you’ll defend yourself later after class because now, you needed to beat everyone else and have a crystal-clear view of yourself doing these following exercises.

In the meantime, Johnny was in the middle of driving Minji home. He had a designated chauffeur, but he gave him the night off because he wanted to spend time with Minji. Around this time, she’d be sleeping soundly, but instead, she’s boosting with so much life. She hasn’t even eaten dinner yet, which was the first thing on Johnny’s agenda now.

Playing Coldplay in the car, Minji belted some lyrics from her favorite songs while Johnny smiled to himself while listening to her attentively. Taking a breath, her thoughts reverted to her fantastic ballet teacher and shared them with her father.

“Dad! Don’t you just think Teacher (Y/N) is so cool? Ugh, I want to be just like her when I grow up.”

“Oh, to become a ballerina like her, you have to work hard every day and memorize lessons fast. Are you up for it, Minji?”

“Absolutely, dad! I want to pull off perfect jumps and turns like her one day!”

In the other after-school activities Johnny enrolled Minji in the past, none of them compared to the passion she had for ballet. Her work ethic was alike to Johnny’s: if they want something, they’ll do whatever it takes to make it possible.

Aside from being a star student in her school, she’s aiming to be a star ballerina. Being the supportive father he is, Johnny was on board to do what it takes to make it happen. Unlike his parents trying to mold him into the next heir of their company, he’s all ears to the dreams of his daughter. His only dream for her was to be live long and happy, not to merely pass on anything.

Johnny lost so much in his young life, so he doesn’t want to lose Minji in any way. As much as he loves his profession, he wanted to be an active father as much as time allowed it. He mostly received complaints from others that he’s not prioritizing his time well, but after hearing your kind words, this heavy weight on his shoulders decreased. All this doubt started to vanish after meeting you for the first time.

“Dad! Isn’t Teacher (Y/N) so beautiful?” Minji honored whilst gazing at the twinkling night sky. “She loves what she does and shines at it.”

Johnny was accustomed to his female co-workers throwing themselves at him due to his attractiveness, more than flattered even to have them feeling weak for him. Yes, there were times he used it to his advantage, some he frankly turned down.

However, the radiance you carried whether you’re dancing or not was something Johnny couldn’t cease wondering about. Unknown to him, he’s the one getting weak. Behold, an unlocked first for the confident CEO.

“Yes, Minji. I do think Teacher (Y/N) is absolutely beautiful.”

470 notes · View notes

chrisevansmaid · 3 years

Text

Virginal

Summary: You go to a beach town in search of losing your virginity. The server at dinner is extra cute but it's also young Chris evans.

*this pic is from chris’s twitter*

MUST BE 18+!!!!

I see everyone saying this, so 18+ pleaseeeee. Begoneeeee youngins

Pairing: Chris Evans x female!reader, Young!Chris Evans x minor!reader, (Name inserted but you can switch it to yours)

Word Count: 3393

Perspective: Reader

Warnings: SMUTTT, p in v, mentions of smoking weed / dab pen, oral sex (female receiving), FLUFF AND ANGST, high sex, lowkey rough sex, dirty talk, degrading dirty talk, EXPLICIT sexual content, age gap, minor having sex with non-minor (17F with 20M),

Authors note:

FIRST FIC YAY!!!!!! Don't be mean pls <3.

I’m really bad at tenses so if it keeps switching from present to past tense sorry. The only grammar corrector I’m using is grammarly so if something doesn’t make sense oopsie, I’m too lazy from spending a while on this fic to go anal and analyze every sentence for errors.

Okay so… I’m a pisces which basically means I can never stop daydreaming. Also the backstory is lowkey gonna be my backstory lol. This is how I wished I lost my virginity plus make it Chris evans.

*THIS IS NOT BASED OFF OF CHRIS ITS FULLY FROM MY IMAGINATION*

Idk I'm bored and it's summer so I have nothing to do. YES THIS IS ABOUT A MINOR BUT IN MY STATE THE AGE OF CONSENT IS 16 SO CHILL.

18+ PLEASE STOP READING NOW IF YOU ARE A MINOR

So I’m a virgin. Not because I am a prude or anything, but it never worked. I like to self diagnose so my conclusion is I have vaginismus. That is basically rolled into my cervix/vagina clenches up whenever I try to have sex so no dick fits in and if anything does fit it's incredibly painful. It's not a matter of being turned on cus I could have Niagara Falls in my panties and it still wouldn’t work, trust me. Even being fingered was awful and I’ve been fingered like 10 times and none of them were enjoyable. My sister says I’m just really tight. Idk. I can finger myself and it's good-ish, I mean how far up can you reach with your own hand?

But I’ve had enough of being a virgin and I just want someone to blow my back out. Preferably some sexy older guy. And because I’m sick and tired of having an untapped pussy I’ve devised a plan. I am going to the beach in a week or so and I am going to find the guy who I had my first kiss with and have him fuck me. Or some other hot guy I meet. But to make sure my inhibitions are lowered and my vagina doesn’t clench from nerves I am gonna get a little high before.

1 week later.

My mom, stepdad, and I arrive at the beach and it is so pretty. I love this beach. It brings back so many good memories. I am rooming with my childhood friend, Sarah, and she knows I want to get fucked. We’ve snuck out before and we are so excited for this week. I take a picture of the beach and put it on my Snapchat story with my location tagged. This will let my first kiss know I’m near him so he can hit me up to fuck me.

The day goes by kinda slow because all I could think of was walking up and down the boardwalk trolling for hot men. Finally, night comes and all the families that are at the beach go to dinner. I was kinda bored but then our server came. He was something else.

“Hi my name’s Chris and I’ll be your server tonight.” Ugh. Even his voice made my whole body warm up. His greenish blue eyes stared into my soul as he took my order. His dirty blonde hair was perfectly quaffed and the way his black shirt hugged his biceps was absolutely sinful. Okay yes, he was probably in his early twenties but who said I was ageist. If anything an older man would know how to fuck a woman better than any stupid high school senior that I would meet.

I got up to go to the bathroom and saw Chris on my way. We locked eyes and didn't break contact until I went into the bathroom. As I stepped out of the bathroom I saw him again. It looked like he was waiting for me. His body was leaned up against the wall across from the bathroom I had just exited. He stopped me and said “Call me.” and handed me a piece of paper. Before I had a chance to say anything he turned and I was watching his perfect ass walk away.

I went back to the table as if nothing happened. I don’t think anyone noticed my uncontrollable smile. Throughout the dinner, I could not tear my eyes away from our sexy server. I think Sarah noticed but I was gonna tell her about it when my parents weren’t right there. We finished dinner and all went back to the beach house. When we got back I told Sarah and she was so shook. We were racking our brains on what I should text Chris. I didn’t want to come off too strong but also I wanted this man to fuck me. So we settled on:

“Hey”

Yes. I know it's lame but he’s older defffffinitely older and I can’t act too young. Ugh, I am so scared of his response it's absolutely killing me. Sarah, two other girls that came to the beach, and I decide to go out for ice cream. At least ice cream would take my mind off waiting for a response. As we wait in line I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out and it’s Chris.

“I thought I told you to call me” His response is very bold but for some reason, it only intrigues you more. Immensely more. I show Sarah and she smiles.

“Guess who’s getting her wish tonight.”

“Oh my god,” I respond. “What do I say?” I am literally so scared that he will think I’m too young or too much of a child.

“Um, don’t say anything. Call him.” Sarah says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Do I actually call him? I’m literally getting the worst knots in my stomach and now I have to shit and I’m literally so nervous over a phone call. I am not a spontaneous person. AT ALL.

“Okay, I’m gonna call him.” I say to Sarah after literally pondering this for 5 minutes.

Oh god. This is so scary. I tell Sarah to get me a vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and I step out of the line. I go to the walkway near the ice cream shop away from the crowd so I can hear better. I dial his number and put the phone to my ear.

It rings like 3 times and he picks up.

“Hey.” He says and his voice is even sexier than I remember.

“Hey.” I literally didn’t know what to say and I am pacing up and down the sidewalk.

“So you must be the hot girl I gave my number to.”

“And you must be the sexy server.” Some wave of confidence came over me and that was the best response I could come up with.

“So what’s your name?”

“Olivia and if I remember correctly, your name is...” I paused to let him fill in the blank

“Chris.”

“Chris, that's right.” I wanted to come off like I didn’t hang onto every word he said and so I played it off like his name wasn’t already filling my fantasies.

“So Liv, when am I gonna see you again?” He asks and this caught me a little off guard that he would jump straight to the point but I guess why prolong the inevitable.

“I don’t know, when are you free?”

“Can I pick you up tonight around 12?” Ugh yes. My plan was filling out nicely.

“Sounds great.” I mean what else am I supposed to say?

“Send me where you’ll be and I’ll pick you up then.” His assertive tone was a panty fucking dropper.

“Okay. See you then Chris.” I’ve picked up from my previous male experiences that if you say a guy's name he’ll be more inclined to fuck you. I mean I totally pulled that out of my ass but I wanted to sound like a confident vixen, not some 17 year old virgin.

“Bye Liv.” The way he made up a nickname for me had me reddening in my cheeks and warming in my core. I say bye and hang up. As soon as the call ends I’m running back to Sarah and telling her every little detail. Okay, I really needed to get back home and shit.

Sarah, the other girls, and I go back to the house and hang out for like an hour, and then it’s 11 and all the parents are asleep. I need to start preparing. So I take a phat shit and then shower even though I showered before dinner but I need to wash off my nervous sweats. I shave everywhere and when I get out I lotion my entire body, put on my sexy lingerie, and douse myself with perfume. I do my makeup but it’s simple and of course waterproof. I text Chris the address of the beach house but tell him to pick me up a couple houses down. I tell Sarah she needs to sneak out with me so if we get caught I can pretend me and her were just hanging outside the house. Sarah and I sneak out the back and bring her cart. I take a couple hits to calm myself down because god forbid I tense up before he can get his dick in. It's like 11:55. God my stomach is in knots.

It’s 12. ‘Oh god’ I think to myself. I see a white range rover pull up at the end of the block. I say bye to Sarah and walk to the car. I see his face. Oh, fuck still sexy. I open his car door and jump into the passenger seat.

“Hey.” I say

“Hey, Liv.” He says back. Him saying that little nickname he gave me is so much hotter in person. So so so much hotter. I think he knows what it does to me because his lips curl into a smirk. “Let’s go for a drive.” Chris says.

“Okay, I’m down.” I say back and kinda rethinking saying ‘I’m down’ because he is definitely rethinking how old I am.

We start driving around and talking and thank god the radio is on to fill any silence there could be. It’s on the country station and him liking country music is literally another added bonus. Then When it Rains it Pours comes on and I say “Omg I love this song.”

“Really?” He says back. “I’ve never met a girl as pretty as you that actually likes country music.”

“Are you kidding? I love country music.” I say back not noting he just called me pretty. We mindlessly chat for like 20 minutes and Chris pulls the car into an empty parking lot that overlooks the whole beach town.

“This is so pretty.” I say in awe of the gorgeous view. I can see from the corner of my eye that Chris is just looking at me.

“Not as good as my view.” He says back in a soft tone that has me melting to the floor of the car. I look back at him and we sit in silence just staring into each other's eyes. I glance at his lips and they look so kissable. They are the perfect amount of plump without being too big. When I look back to his eyes he is still staring at me. His lips almost form a smile and he grabs and cheek and kisses me. It’s even better than each and every one of my fantasies. I grab the back of his neck and kiss him even harder back. Before I know it the kiss gets more rushed and Chris is running his hands along the curve of my back. Our lips are crashing into each others with fervor like no other. He pulls me into his lap and he ruts his hips upward. He takes his left hand and moves the seat back and starts kissing down my neck. His lips leave little bite marks and he reaches my bosoms. He pulls my tank top down and pulls my breasts out of my bra and sucks on my right nipple as he pinches the left. Soft mewls leave my lips and he stops to look at me and the rush of cold air sends goosebumps across my skin. He leans up and kisses my neck and leaves marks all the way to my ear lobe and whispers “Before I fuck you until you can’t remember your name, How old are you?”

Forming words is harder than I imagined so between pants I say back “17.”

“Perfect” he whispers back while still biting my neck. “Come here” he says as he opens the door. I hop off him and outside the car and see the tent forming in his pants. He picks me up and wraps my legs around him and pins me against the car door. He bites my lip and I can’t imagine anything better than this moment. While still mounted on his he opens the door to the backseat and lays me down. He gets on top of me and shuts the door behind him. He ruts against my core and his jeans rub against the soft fabric of my athletic shorts. Although my mind is completely fixed on his engorged cock a thought forms in my mind. What if he thinks I’ve done this before? What If I’m so bad he doesn’t even speak to me again? These thoughts completely cloud my mind and Chris notices.

“What's wrong?” he says as he pulls away. I glance at his bitten lips and pant trying to form words.

“Nothing just, I... I’m a virgin.” I blurt out. I am so scared I ruined the moment but his expression only intensifies.

“Oh well we just can’t have that now can we?” He says back and his lust blown pupils grow darker and he kisses me with such intensity my thoughts completely leave my mind. I could get drunk off the taste of him. Chris breaks the kiss and rips off his shirt showing his perfectly chiseled abs. I felt them through the cotton but seeing them right in front of my eyes makes my mouth open. My lips peak into a smile and he picks me up and places my back closer to the car door. He rips off my shorts and starts kissing down my neck to my navel and I run my fingers through his hair. My chest rises and falls quicker as his lips reach my red lace covered mound. His teeth grab the waistband and he pulls off my panties.

He inhales and says “So sweet.” His husky voice vibrating against my core. His kisses dance around my thighs. As more sounds leave my mouth Chris bites my skin. His hands hold my legs open as he licks down my folds. His tongue flickers across my clit leaving me trembling. I had never felt this way from anyone ever. My fingers run through his short dirty blonde hair and my nails dig into his scalp leaving crescent shaped indents. He slips his middle finger through my folds as he sucks on my clit. His fingers curl up hitting a spot I never knew existed. A feeling in my stomach starts intensifying and spreading through my entire body and I tremble in euphoria. Chris finger fucks me through my first ever orgasm. I shut my eyes tightly and when I open them Chris is staring right at me. I grab the hair on the nape of his neck and pull him back up to kiss me. I can taste myself still on his tongue as the material of his jeans rubs against my sensitive bud. His fingers pinch my nipples as he slips his tongue between my lips. I reach down and feel his throbbing cock through his pants. As I rub with the palm of my hand, throaty moans leave his mouth. Nothing was stronger than my desire to be fucked raw by this sex god. I pulled away from the kiss and say as I stare deep into his eyes “Fuck me Chris.” My words are efficacious to him.

He licked his lips like an animal locked onto his prey. “Don’t have to ask me twice.” He pulls down his jeans and takes his cock out of his boxers. I have seen a dick before but never that big. My mouth almost dropped to the floor. He pulled a condom out of the back of the seat and wrapped it around his cock. He pumped his dick a few times before running the head along my sodden folds. “You ready?” I had never been more ready for anything in my entire life. Unable to form words I nodded my head. Chris pushes his cock into me slowly. I gasped at the feeling. I wasn’t as tight as I usually was but it still stung. Each inch stung a little more until he bottomed out into me. He stilled. His breath was hot on my ear as our breathing synced. I gasped again as he pulled his hips back. I reached down and pulled him back into me.

“Don’t hold back.” I said. I wanted this to be as enjoyable for him as it was for me. Chris pulled out and thrust back into me again. The groans that left this throat made my pussy clench around him. He picks up his pace and pain turns into pleasure. My legs wrap around his thighs and I’m pulling him into me.

“You dirty little slut. So needy.” He whispered into my ear. The sound that escaped my lips drew him deeper in like a moth to a flame. Chris drives his cock into me faster so that all you can hear is breathy moans and the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin. Chris moves his hand to my throat and squeezes. I try to moan but they catch in my throat and I look back at Chris. His mouth is agape and he is staring deep into my eyes. He thrusts so deep my eyes roll back and I have to shut them. He grabs my chin and pulls my face to meet his. “Look at me. Don’t look away. I want to see your face as I make you cum on my dick.” His cock is hitting places he didn’t even reach when fingering me. Another orgasm rips through me and my body trembles harder this time. Chris fucks me through my orgasm and just as I regained my mental awareness I could feel another one coming on. Chris squeezes harder on my neck as he sucks on my hardened nipples. He bites my skin and takes his hand from my neck and reaches between our sweaty writhing bodies and pinches my clit. A guttural moan leaves my throat as another excruciatingly intense orgasm takes over my entire body. I can tell Chris isn’t far behind because his thrusts become sporadic and he puts all his body weight into his last thrust and stills. The noises he makes me wish he was still fucking me. He leans down to meet my lips once again but this time it is slower and more gingerly. He pulls his dick out and lays down on top of me.

We catch our breaths and I say. “Wow, that was.. fuck.”

Chris softly laughs and says “Who knew a 17 year old could have me in the palm of their hand.”

“Who knew a however-old-you-are would take my virginity.” I say with a smile on my face.

“I’m 20, I probably should have told you earlier.” He says looking a little guilty.

“Don’t worry it would have only turned me on more.” I laugh back and our lips join in a soft kiss.

Chris and I look at the dashboard and see it's 1:30 am. “Shit I should probably get home before my friend worries too much.” I say looking back at Chris and he nods. We sit up and reach down for our clothes. I reach for my underwear and Chris snatches it from my hands.

“These are mine now.” Chris smirks.

“Fine.” I put on my shorts and pull my top back on. Sadly Chris covers his humongous biceps with his shirt. I lean in and meet Chris with a kiss. We get back into our respective seats and Chris looks at me with a dumb smile.

“Why are you staring at me?” I say with a giggle.

“Oh, nothing.” Chris says and his smile only looks more like a 6 year old who just stole a cookie before dinner. I mean technically he did just steal something but that's beside the point. Chris puts the car back into drive and turns around to back up.

As he drives me home there's more small talk but then he asks “How long will you be in town?”

“A week,” I say. Chris’s dumb smile returns. “Okay, what's that smile for?”

Chris looks at me and says “I’m just excited to fuck you every night this week.”

#chris evans #cevans #firstfanfic #yay #excited #chris evans fanfc #chris evans x reader #young chris evans #chris evans x female reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine #smut #fluff #beach #stranger smut

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bebepac · 3 years

Text

Six Sentence Sunday 10.17.21

Another Sunday Funday is upon us! Work still has been crazy, but I did work a little bit less in this past two weeks, not by much. Fortunately I have got some writing done, we’ll unveil that in a few. Sorry I’m not posting as much as I was, but I hope I can start posting more soon.

As always, I know tags can be crazy, but here’s what chapters I’ve posted in the last week or so.

University Student Ellie: Skipping Across The Pond

Greek Meat: A Family Vacation Part 2⛱

Thanks for the tags @mrsnazariowritesagain and @khoicesbyk

A/N: Mia’s 🌎 World took a turn I wasn’t planning on, if you enjoy the weird on Netflix, it has a Locke & Key meets The Flash sort of vibe. Both have episodes dealing with mirrors, and there is some influence there.

Here’s my new /old stuff I’ve updated. I did let our good pal DW take first chair on a couple of things.... You’ll see.

Original post : 10/17/21 at 3:03PM EST.

The Rotten Apple 🍎

Their Hidden Pain one shot / Creepy Campfire Tale 2021

Pairings: Liam x Riley / with past pairing Riley x Drake

The Book: TRH

Status: Still in the writing process

"I haven't seen you since the day you locked me in here. That was over five years ago. What do we owe this honor, King Liam?"

Liam stepped forward, his eyes revealed nothing in that split second before he punched Drake.

Drake hit the floor rubbing his face for a moment, spitting out blood. Of all things, Drake laughed.

"We've really got to stop meeting like this Liam."

Liam grabbed him, pulling him up from the floor before he hit him again.

"You think this is a joke?!"

Drake laughed harder, as the hits continued.

"My daughter! All these years…."

Drake was barely conscious after Liam finally had tired himself out from hitting him. Bastien stood only watching as he had been instructed to do.

“What does this have to do with……” Realization flashed into Drake’s eyes.

“She’s not your daughter is she? She’s my daughter. Ellie Walker.”

Liam’s eyes finally revealed his pain.

“Don’t you call her that!!!!”

“It’s who she is!!!!! This fucking monarchy, they can’t even be honest with the King. These are the people you surround yourself with King Liam. They knew the crown needed an heir, so they let you two believe…. You had already conceived one. But you didn’t. That’s so ironic, I really did beat the King of Cordonia to the promised land. Your precious Ellie, is not yours. She’s mine.”

“She’s nothing like you Drake!!!! Nothing but light and love has surrounded her life since she was born.”

Drake laughed again.

“She’s nothing like me? When have you ever known a tree that is rotten to produce good fruit? And I’m the delusional one on medication? Just you wait, King Liam. Just you wait.”

The Antique Mirror

Mia’s 🌎 World / Creepy Campfire Tale 2021

The Book: TRR x The Freshman

Pairings: Mia x Jaiden (TRR MC x M!OC) / Chris x Emily

Status: Still in the writing process.

The old woman shook the money in her hand one more time looking at Jaiden. He glanced at the money and then at Mia. Mia wanted the mirror and he wanted to make her happy.

“We’re keeping it.”

Jaiden and Mia took the mirror home, cleaned it and painted it and the next morning Jaiden hung it in the bedroom.

“You could even use it like a vanity mirror.”

Mia loved that idea. But it seemed a little too much. He’d find Mia staring at herself in the mirror for hours at a time, almost entranced by it.

Several Weeks Later

She sat that evening looking at her reflection, softly brushing her hair when she noticed it. Her reflection had a smirk to her lips. But Mia wasn’t smirking.

Mia put down the brush, as did her reflection, but the smirk still remained. Mia touched the side of her face as did her reflection, feeling her face was not in a smirk.

Peering closer at the mirror, Mia’s reflection winked at her.

“What are you?” she asked.

Mia reached her hand to the mirror, when her fingers touched the glass the eyes of the reflection changed glowing red.

It grabbed her arm pulling her inside the mirror. Mia passed through the glass feeling it cold standing up on the other side of the mirror.

Mia shockingly looked around the world that was a mirror image of hers, as this other thing, that looked exactly like her, eyes changed from that sinister glowing red, to her normal brown, and was sitting in the outside world. In her world.

“I’m you now.” It said to her.

Below Ground Zero

Just The Way You Are: Chapter 17

The Book TRR x Perfect Match

Pairings: Liam x Riley / Hayden x Kai (Hayden!M x Kai!F)

Status: Still in the writing process.

Jaiden knew he was going to help get Riley into a support group so he started looking around and emailed a few counselors.

Janneth ran a group at a local church and asked him to meet with her.

“It’s noble you’re trying to help your sister in this way. But if she’s not ready for this, you can’t make her be ready.”

“I feel like we’re all walking on eggshells around her. She needs people who truly understand what she’s feeling, and though we’re all trying, we don’t know. We don’t know what she needs.”

“Let her tell you Jaiden. Sometimes it’s just silence, sometimes it’s just knowing if she needs something that you’re there for her. But I feel you're determined to get her here, is she leaving the house at all currently?"

"No."

"Then this shouldn't be the first place you bring her. Take her to someplace that she associates with happy memories like a place you two have been together, then start taking her to other places. Get her into a routine. This is not going to be easy for her or you."

It took several weeks of gentle nudges, but finally Riley was sitting in the support group in the back and the meeting was about to start.

“What if I can’t handle staying the whole time?”

“We’ll just leave Riley. It’s okay. But I think this will help you, and I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Unfurled

The Days The Earth Stood Still: Part 6

The Book: TRH

Pairings: Riley x Nico / TRR MC x M!OC / with past pairing of Liam x Riley

Status: Still in the writing process

Riley had already fed William and sent him to bed. She had just finished her second bottle of wine when he came through the door with Alex. Nico immediately sent Alex to his room so he wouldn’t see Riley’s level of inebriation.

“Riley, where is the party?”

He looked at the empty wine bottles sitting on the table, as Riley stood walking towards him, her gait wobbly.

Riley drained the remaining wine from her glass in one gulp, setting it on the bar.

“So, I’ve had a revelation.”

“I should take you to bed, you’ve had way too much to drink.”

“No need. I’ve never been so sure of something in my life.”

“Sure of what?”

“The biggest mistake I ever made in my life was marrying you. Thinking you actually loved me. But I can fix that. I want a divorce, Nico."

"No Riley. Baby, you don't mean that. Where is this coming from? We love each other. You love me, and I love you."

He kissed her lips softly pulling her close, gently playing with her hair.

She pulled away from his touch.

"You love me?!?!?!?!? Nico, I loved you. I trusted you. I chose you. I chose you over Liam!!!!! And you cheated on me. You have a five year old son with another woman. Nico do you love her?"

"Riley…."

"Do you love her?"

"Yes."

Being that she might actually have some free time, she quickly texted Drake.

Toga Party

The Book: TRR

And So We Met Chapter 2

Pairing: Riley x Drake / Riley x Liam / Liam x Hana

Status: Still in the writing process

Riley: My professor for my first class looks like he’s going to be a no show, Do you have time to meet me for hot breakfast in the dining hall if he doesn’t?

She hit send, putting her phone down, Drake was always fairly quick at responding back to her.

At ten minutes past the hour students left Riley thought she’d wait for minute eleven so there was no debate whatsoever. As Riley was heading towards the door, Drake texted back.

Drake: Can’t, my professor showed up. You're lucky! Doesn’t mean you can’t still go.

Riley: I know that. 😊 See you at lunch then?

Drake: I'll meet you at the Quad at 12.

Drake: ⚠️🍆👍🍋👀🔥🙈

Riley: What?

Drake: Dropped my phone!

Riley: Interesting set of emojis for teb2rneykkeyhtg4rh

Since Riley was glancing down at her phone she didn't see him, he tried to weave out of her way, at the last second she took one small step to the left putting her right in his path and he ran smack into her.

Professor Rys looked completely disheveled. His white button down shirt was untucked and there looked to be a smudge of brake grease on his shirt; a bit of it was also on the side of his face.

“Guess I missed my window, it looks like Miss Brooks? Why are you still here?”

“I gave it eleven minutes as to which there would be no debate. You could say you were here by ten minutes and thirty seconds, technically that’s still ten minutes. At least in my book. Minute eleven would make me leave.”

“Touche Miss Brooks.”

“You have a little brake grease on your face.”

He rubbed the spot where he thought it was and smeared it.

Riley laughed. “Now you made it worse.”

#bebepac writes #six sentence sunday #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trh fanfic #trh fandom #liam x riley #just the way you are #the days the earth stood still #mia's world #their hidden pain #trr au fanfic #play choices #choices fandom

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quindolyn · 3 years

Text

Midnight Walks || James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 4363

Note: Dedicated to 🦎anon from @/randomoutsiders blog. Where I live it’s already 84℉ so this completely feasible but if you don’t live in hell and it's still cold and wintery outside just push it back a few months.

Warnings: Insecure reader, like 2 sexual comments because I’m filthy, talk of men being pigs and not keeping their hands to themselves, lots of fluff, modern muggle au, monkey bars, public nonsexual stripping,

Masterlist

Part 2

There were ants in your bones, there must’ve been. Either that or someone was trying to feather dust their way out of them. Your entire body itched with the urge to move, to run, to scream and jump in the middle of the street. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what drove this overwhelming desire, perhaps it was some sort of primal reason coded into your DNA, alternatively maybe it was the sitting at your computer all day. One could only attend so many online classes before they went insane, and a decent way into your second semester and still no sign of going back in person anytime before the next school year. You were like a purebred who desperately needed exercise. It would’ve been a simple enough fix if it wasn’t already 10:17, the sun having set four or so hours ago, even though you lived in a pretty nice area you didn’t feel comfortable going out. Men were disgusting, and going out this late alone meant risking life and limb because too many men thought it was okay to touch what wasn’t theirs. Fucking toddlers. So instead you were forced to open your windows in attempts to replicate the natural breeze and try to find another outlet for your energy. You tried. You really did. Jumping jacks, planks, the few yoga poses you could recall off the top of your head, dancing around your house to your favorite songs, but the music didn’t feel like it usually did, even it couldn’t soothe the itching in your bones. You were fucked, simply and truly. Too energetic without the proper outlet. After none of those things worked you sat down to attempt to get some of your weekend homework done, but somewhere between ionization energy and confidence intervals you found yourself picking at your nail polish instead of paying attention to your work. Groaning you threw your head down onto your desk, wincing as the pain from the impact spread through your skull. Closing your eyes you tried to imagine it, the cool night air in your face, blowing through your mangled tresses, the thud of your feet against the pavement of the sidewalk, the feeling of the grass at the park tickling your exposed skin as you stared up at the cloudy sky, looking for stars. You swore you could almost feel it all, almost pulled into bliss when you were yanked from your reprieve by the buzzing of your phone. Groaning, you pulled your head up, it wobbled on your neck, as though it was loose and needed to be tightened. Had you wanted to you couldn’t have stopped the smile that broke across your phone when you saw the notification on your lock screen, a text from James. Can I call you? Sure. You typed out waiting anxiously for your ringtone to blare through your room. Instead you were met with another brief buzz. One second, Sirius is being an idiot. Another smile, smaller than the last, bloomed across your face, Sirius was often an idiot. Picking up your phone you pressed it to your ear just in time to hear James greet you. “Hey baby.” Loving James was potentially one of the easiest things you’d ever done, if asked you would've said it would be easier to stop breathing before you stopped loving him. There was just so much to love and as his voice tickled your ear you remembered one of the things you so loved about him, the sound of his voice. With two simple words he was able to soothe you, if only a little bit. But still the ache to be outside lessened a little. “Hi Jamsie.” You crooned into the phone as you shut down your laptop coming to the conclusion you were going to get jack shit done tonight. You distantly heard Sirius in the background but couldn’t make out any words, “Pads says hi.” James conveyed. “Hi Siri!” You yelled into the phone, you waited until the bickering and laughing on their side of the phone quieted before continuing, “Whatcha callin’ about bub?” “Missed you is all, was wondering what you were doing?” “Nothing much, tried to get some homework done.” James chuckled knowing how distracted you could get if someone wasn’t there to help you stay on track, “How’d that go?” “Not well,” You grumbled, “S’not my fault either, can’t focus. I just need some fresh air, I need to go on a walk but I can’t.” Flinging your body onto your bed and landing on your back you pulled the phone from your ear, turning it onto speaker and setting it on your belly, liking the vibrations against your body as James spoke. It was almost like he was there with you. “I’m sorry darling,” James knew exactly what you were talking about. Unlike a lot of men he wasn’t afraid to broach topics like these, he would sit and kiss your head if some guy at the grocery store had been a prick and couldn't keep his eyes or his hands off of your ass, or if one of the boys in your class had made an objectifying comment. He’d listen to you lament and apologize, on behalf of all men, for the disgusting things you were forced to deal with. He had learned a lot since you started dating, he’d always been a feminist but before you hadn’t really understood what that meant. His mother and father always made sure he was aware of gender biases and he’d heard stories of women being assaulted, harassed, discriminated against and perhaps it made him a bad person but when it happened to you, when you told him about these things it was different, it was worse, he couldn’t control the rage that bubbled up inside of him. You were (Y/N) (L/N), you were his, you deserved to be treated like royalty. No one got to disrespect you. He felt the pang in his heart when he pictured you holed up in your house, like a caged animal, desperate to get out. “I know, and I love you.” You responded, knowing he hated how you had to be afraid and cautious all the time. “I love you too.” “What were you doing before you called?” You asked after a beat. “Watching a movie with mom and Sirius.” A twinge of guilt twisted in your stomach, “Oh, you should go back to them Jamsie, I don’t want to keep you from your family.” James stopped himself before he could tell you that they’d already finished the movie as an idea hit him like most of his ideas hit him, suddenly and fleetingly. Remus once compared them to a freight train. “Okay angel, talk to you later.” “Bye, Jamsie.” He hung up immediately as the last syllable left your lips causing a frown to tug downwards at those aforementioned lips. Sure, you felt a bit guilty that he’d bailed on his mom and Sirius for you but you couldn’t help feeling a little sad that he was so ready to get rid of you the second he had a chance. Feeling all too familiar insecurity simmer from under your sternum questions popped into your head one after another. Did he really want to be with you? Was this all because he just pitied you? Were you just a substitute for Lily? Did his heart still belong to her? What did he even see in you? You couldn’t help but feel like nothing compared to her, she’s Lily Evans. And you’re, well you’re just not. Time had slipped away from you, you hadn’t realised how much until you felt your phone buzz against your stomach and saw that almost 15 minutes had passed since James had hung up on you. You only briefly noted the time before your eyes flashed down to the banner displayed across your screen, another text. Look out your window. Lifting your torso, propping yourself up on your forearms and twisted your head to see James’ smiling face plastered against your window, a huge, beautiful grin, stretching across his face. You could feel a matching one fan out across your face as you skipped to the window, pulling it open relishing in the cool breeze that let itself into your room. “Hey there handsome.” You joked. “Hey beautiful.” “What are you doing outside my window?” You were befuddled, wasn’t he supposed to be watching some Quentin Tarantino or equally violent movies that he and Siri liked? “I was thinking we could go on a walk,” He explained unabashedly. “A walk?” You asked, a blush blossoming on your face, creeping its way down your neck. “You wanted to go on one, yeah?” “I love you.” Was all you said in response, he caught you as you threw yourself into his arms, the middle of your thighs biting into the sill of your window, but you didn’t care. How could you? All you could focus on was the way his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close to him so he could bury his nose into your hair. “Love you too darling.” There was a part of you, an admittedly large part, that wanted to stay standing there forever but the cool evening air reminded you about how much you wanted that walk. Peeling yourself away from him you placed your chin on his pectoral, not considerably comfortable for either of you, but you were close to each other, and that’s all that mattered. “Come in.” “I was waiting for you to ask.” He winked, slinging one leg over the windowsill giving him room to maneuver his rather large body through the small opening, but James had experience fitting his body into tiny things (namely your cunt). “Are your parents home?” “No, everyone’s gone for the night.” “Why didn’t you tell me baby, I would’ve come over and kept you company.” You felt heat creep back up your neck to your face, embarrassed by the answer. Though your insecurities could swallow you whole when you were alone, they seemed trivial when James was actually there, staring down at you with so much love in his eyes. “Don’t want to be clingy.” The confession bringing even more heat to your cheeks. “Never, (Y/N), absolutely never. If anyone here is clingy it's me not you.” You corrected him, “You’re wonderful.” “So are you bub.” Reassuring you he brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “Now come on! Let’s get some shoes on you and we can go out.”

James was filling up an old water bottle he found in one of the cupboards in case either of you got thirsty when you entered the kitchen, shoes and socks in hand. Your boy smiled at you, twisting the cap of the water bottle on all of the way before setting it on the countertop and moving towards you. “Want me to put your shoes on for you?” “Yes please.” You nodded, grinning cheekily. His large hands found your waist, lifting you up and setting your bum onto the cool counter. Slipping the socks from your hand he knelt down to roll them over your feet, leaving a kiss on the inside of each of your ankles. “You wanna walk to anywhere in particular?” “The park?” You offered, handing him one of your tennis shoes which were a little beat up, but still a long way from needing to be replaced. “The one with the fountain?” “Do you know of any other parks within walking distance?” You snarked, swinging your legs, feeling the need to be outside return, faster and more powerful than before. “Guess not,” He grumbled, looking up at you with a playful smile so you would know he didn’t really take your sarcasm to heart. “Hey watch it!” He chuckled when you accidentally swung your leg a little too hard and knocked his left shoulder with your socked foot. “Sorry.” You apologized looking about as sorry as Sirius usually did when he was apologizing, which honestly wasn’t much. “There you go Cinderella.” He said, as he pat your thigh once he finished tying your laces, rising from his kneeling position. “You think you’re funny do you Potter?” “In fact I do (L/N).” He grinned, sliding you off the counter, onto your feet. “Shall we?” You offered your hand to him which he accepted like a true gentleman. “We shall.”

You were right, but then again, when were you ever wrong? Fresh air was exactly what you needed, the feeling of the wind in your hair, the twigs snapping beneath your weight, the solidness of the ground. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this alive. That was probably stupid but it was liberating to be out of your house, and on top of it it was nighttime too. You weren’t often able to be out this late because you usually didn’t have someone to go out with. You had almost forgotten how beautiful it was when there was no glass separating you from the moon and the stars. Despite the fact that his legs were far longer than yours James still had to speed walk to keep up with you. His heart swelled seeing you so happy and carefree as you strode unapologetically down the sidewalk. “Stop walking so fast.” He complained, finally matching your stride as he loosely looped his left arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible while still keeping the two of you moving forward. “Not my fault you’re a slowpoke.” You retaliated but nevertheless still resting your head on his broad shoulder. “It’s nice out isn’t it?” He pondered aloud. “It’s wonderful,” You agreed, closing your eyes and turning your face up towards the sky, trusting James to guide you safely down the sidewalk, “I’m sorry you had to ditch your mom and Siri to come be with me.” You apologized as another wave of guilt from earlier hit you. “I didn’t bubba, we’d already finished the movie when I called you.” “Really?” Your head perked up. “Mhm.” James hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me that?’ “Wanted to surprise you.” He explained and your heart soared, he really was indescribably sweet. “Well I was surprised.” “Good.” “What movie did you watch?” Wondering if your suspicions had been correct. “Forrest Gump.” He responded by popping his “p”. You laughed squeezing two of James’ fingers on the hand splayed across your stomach. “What?” “Nothin’, just thought you and Pads would’ve made your mom watch Reservoir Dogs or something.” “Come on, you know me and Padfoot (Y/N), nothin’ but a couple of softies the two of us.” “Yes, yes you are.” You responded completely seriously. “You were supposed to disagree, he whispered into your ear. “I cannot tell a lie.” “Hey!” He exclaimed in mock offense. “Come on I found the two fo you cuddling when I came over Wednesday, he was literally spooning you Jamsie. It was rather cute really.” James let you have the last word and the two of you were silent for a minute as you passed a house with a line of cars in front of it, stupid fucking people and their stupid fucking parties. You thought, thinking they’re more important than the rest of us, that it’s okay to throw a party during the middle of a pandemic. “There’s a pandemic going on people,” James muttered as you crossed in front of the driveway, as though he was reading your thoughts. You just nestled into him more. Once you cleared the super spreader house it was only a few feet before you turned the corner and your desired destination came into view causing a ginormous smile to practically crack your face in half. “Come on Jamie!” You giggled, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the street towards the park, not even looking both ways as you bolted across the street to the park. You’d always thought that parks and playgrounds and such looked a bit creepy after dark and while today was no exception you still didn’t think twice before bounding up the steps of the play structure. Laughing, you turned your face back up towards the sky as you reached down to slip your shoes and socks off, tossing them off the play structure onto the wood chips scattered across the ground. “You look beautiful up there.” You hadn’t noticed James approach you, but he was now standing at the foot of the play structure, looking up at you. “Come up here with me Jamie, please?” You pleaded, tugging on his arm. “How could I deny you anything?” “Simple,” You responded, “You can’t.” Pushing himself up onto the structure he tried to envelop you in his arms but you squirmed away, giggling. As you ran toward the slide at the opposite end of the playground he broke out into a run after you, purposefully keeping his strides short to give you the upper hand. Breaking out into a sprint as soon as your feet touched the ground you raced towards the open field, James hot on your heels. He chased you around the perimeter of the grassy clearing, the two of you yelling at each other and laughing until your lungs hurt when he finally caught you in his arms, trying to get you as close to him as possible. He loved the feeling of your body against his more than he loved life itself. Or even Sirius. “What should I do with you now that I’ve captured you?” He mused tauntingly, tightening his grip on you. “Well I know one thing you could do to me.” You murmured. “(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N), get your mind out of the gutter Miss,” “Make me.” You teased, wiggling in his grasp. “I know what’ll fix your attitude.” James declared, adjusting his so his arms were around your waist instead of one there and one wrapped around your shoulders. “And what’s that?” “A nice February swim!” He roared jovially, hefting you over his shoulder as he bounded towards the fountain located on the east side of the park. “Jamie!” You shrieked as you bounced against him, “Slow down.” “Sorry Princess,” He huffed once you reached the fountain, he carefully lifted you off his shoulder and sat you down on the ledge of the water feature as he kneeled before you, hands pressing against your thighs. “Come on baby, go swimming with me?” “Course.” You smiled as you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, throwing it somewhere over Jamie’s shoulder. You didn’t bother watching where it landed, too enraptured with the gorgeous boy on his knees in front of you. “You look gorgeous (Y/N).” He murmured, taking it the sight of your bare stomach and chest clad in a lacy lavender bra. “I let you see mine, now get your shirt off Potter!” You commanded impatiently, you loved James all the time, but you especially loved James shirtless. “Okay, okay woman, calm down, I'm moving.” He playfully chastised shrugging off his jacket which you just now realised was his varsity jacket, his last name emblazoned across the back of it. When he caught you staring at him he teasingly played with the hem of his shirt, rolling it in the tips of his fingers until you lightly kicked his bent knee. He then discarded his pants, throwing them and his shirt somewhere to his right, carefully laying his jacket on a bench a few feet away he was left only in his boxers and you took this time to appreciate how his skin shown in the moonlight, his darker complexion brilliant in the darkness of the park. “You wanna keep your shorts on? He lilted, moving towards where you sat on the bench encircling the fountain. You nodded in response, not wanting to be so vulnerable in such a public space. “Okay baby sounds good.” James leaned in towards you pressing his lips to yours before he scooped you into his arms before stepping into the fountain, even though it was warm ish outside the water of the fountain hadn’t had enough time to truly heat up because the water that lapped at his midcalf almost had him feeling bad for what he did next. Which was dropping you into the freezing cold water, keeping you upright by his hold on your shoulders before you were able to ground yourself on the floor of the fountain. With water sprouting up from the top and cascading down 4 smaller tiers reminiscent of bird baths, getting larger and larger in radius as they went down, cold water nipped at your skin. “Agh!” You shrieked, “It’s freezing!” “Calm down drama queen!” James snorted, “Little cold water never hurt anybody.” “Speak for yourself!” Screaming as James bent down to splash you with water you tried to run away resulting in you falling backwards onto your bum. “You okay baby?” James asked nervously bending down next to you, surveying your near naked body for any cuts or bruises. Your response came as you looped your arms around his neck and pulled him down, submerging the entirety of his body in the chilly water. He quickly pulled you down with him so that your head was submerged, your hair billowing out around you in the water. When you pulled back up to the surface your wet hair was plastered to your face. And though you were cold, wet, and maybe a little banged up your heart was aflame, this had been exactly what you needed, to run around like a little kid and lose yourself, if only for a little while. Glancing back down your jaw dropped, the light coming from the fountain walls made the shadows of the water reflect on James’ dark skin making him look even more beautiful, like something out of a book. He took your temporary lapse as an opportunity to flip you around so that he was on top of you, he thought you were always stunning but something about you beneath him made you shine like nothing else he’d ever seen. Taking good care to make sure your head didn’t bump against the fountain, and that your head was above water, he trailed kisses from your temple to your jaw. When he reached your chin the second freight train of the night hit him head on and he stuck out his tongue licking from the point of your chin, up your lips, the bridge of your nose, and up your forehead until he reached your hair line where he left one more gentle kiss. “James Potter!” You shrieked, a giggling mess, “What the hell?” He lifted himself off you so he could once again scoop you into his arms, “Come on my little water nymph, let’s get you dry, don’t need you getting sick on me.” “Think you should’ve thought about that before you dunked me into the fountain in nothing but my bra and shorts.” You retaliated to which he only rolled his eyes, before shaking his head like a wet dog. “I swear to God Potter, you’re a Golden Retriever.” “Hmh?” He asked, stepping out of the fountain. “Playful, loyal, energetic, smart.” You explained, planting a kiss on his nose. “Shaking off to dry like a fucking dog.” “You love me.” He grinned, like the thought was just now hitting him, like you hadn’t said it already multiple times that night. “That I do Potter.” You agreed as he set you down on the bench where he had laid his jacket, taking care to slip your arms into it one at a time he pulled it close to your body to keep you warm before coming up behind you, tipping your head back so he could wring the excess water out of it, taking this as an opportunity to kiss the hollow of your throat to which you hummed. Upon slipping on his previously discarded pants and shirt, an endeavor you watched very closely, not wanting to miss a second of how his muscles shifted underneath his smooth, taut skin, he sat down next to you. “It’s a beautiful night.” “That it is.” You agreed. The two of you sat there for a moment before James carefully stood up, “Where are you going Jamie? Too tired now, m’done playing.” “I know angel, come on, not gonna play, just get more comfortable.” He soothed, taking you by the hand and walking you over to a set of fairly new monkey bars. Picking you up from the bottom of your thighs he pushed you up and above his shoulders to sit on top of the monkey bars and you were reminded why it sometimes came in handy to be dating the captain of the football team. Swinging up next to you on the monkey bars he slid his arm around your shoulders, both of your legs meeting the edge of the cold metal at the bend of your knees, your bodies there down hanging off leaving the both of you on your backs staring up at the unusually starry night sky. “There’s Orion.” You lifted your arm to point out the constellation, “ Surprised we can see so many.” You marvelled. “It is rather pretty.” “‘Rather pretty’?” You gasped exasperated with the boy next to you, “It’s not just ‘rather pretty’, it's gorgeous!” You corrected with a huff, turning your visage back up towards the heavens. “Eh,” He shrugged, “I’ve seen better.” “I swear to God, James Fleamont Potter if you say ‘You’re prettier than any constellation’ I’m going to push you off these monkey bars.” A chuckle pushed its way past his lips as he brushed his lips along the part of your hair, “You know me too well don’t you (L/N).” “Yeah, I’ve got your number Mister.” James pulled out his phone to check the time, “Hey baby, it’s midnight.” He whispered in your ear, turning his phone screen so you could read the time. “Happy Saturday my darling boy.” “Happy Saturday Princess, let’s get you home.”

Note: I know in my initial ask on @/randomoutsiders you guys went home and more fluff ensued. Maybe a part two?

tagging: @randomoutsiders

#harry potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders era x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you

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creatingnikki · 3 years

Text

What 2020 has taught me

1. Those things that seem like content for sci fi or pure fiction are actually things that can happen. To the entire world. Like a pandemic. And to you. Like a seizure.

2. Everyone is sad. Everyone is struggling. In different ways and in different measures. Makes no one special. But you still get to feel sad for yourself and be compassionate towards others. But it's also okay to draw boundaries because you're everyone too. Remember, not special? You're sad and trying to deal with it too.

3. Every job you have will not add value to your life. It will not teach you new things or give you people you'll want to stay in touch with. Sometimes some jobs will only be a season of your life. Even if the season lasts for over a year. It's okay.

4. You know how you thought picking a college and picking a major and picking your first job and picking a specific industry were all the career decisions you had to make? Yeah, no. It's never a one time thing. You could have a job as a marketing strategist for two years and then want nothing to do with it. And then you'll have to make another decision and work towards it. So I'd like to call it moves. It's like chess. You always have to make a move. And it always has to be strategic, yes. But the truth is in your 20s it probably won't. Even if you try. And as long as you're trying, you'll be fine.

5. You may have different sorts of friends like the one you only talk to about kdrama with or the one you met when you went book shopping alone and the friendship is all about books really. That's normal. But irrespective of why and how you became friends with them, if you consider them a friend then there has to be this basic sense of care, respect and empathy for each other. I don't care what people want to say. If you're faced with the worst trauma of your life, the least your friends can do is check up on you regularly. On text. And if they don't even do that then guess what? They aren't friends. They are acquaintances. Social media and quick promises make everyone seem like your friend. But they are not. They are just nice people who will be nice to you for specific periods and then wander away like you are a speck of dust floating in their journey.

6. You speak a lot and write and you express yourself and you’re emotionally mature but oh my god. You still hold in so much. You’ve known that at a subconscious level and over the last year people - experts - have told you that. You have also realized that you make your pain and sadness about pettier things because dealing with them, admitting about them, sharing that with your friends, is easier. You do that so that you don’t have to deal with the real stuff. Because it’s so damn painful. And you don’t know how to do it. Yet. Acknowledging is the first step anyway right? I know you’re confused about how exactly to let go of all this pain and sadness and feel lighter, and you know that talking to people really isn’t the solution, but I also know you’re smart enough to figure it out.

7. Talking about being smart...you know you’re different than others. Better. Special. Smarter. None of these are the right words. And you never voiced this out until this year because you knew it would make you come across as narcissistic. Some would say it’s because you’re an INFJ. But my mother once said that this may be the first time we are consciously living life but our souls are old and so our instinct and the things we know but can’t explain are because this isn’t the first time for our souls. The connections we feel with certain people, the reason we are so different from our siblings who grew up in the exact same environment with the exact same opportunities, our sense of right and wrong...it’s all because our souls learn and grow with each time and that’s why we are who we are. I think that’s probably how I can explain what I have always felt. That I am living in a different universe than everybody but I have to pretend to be in this one and dumb my emotions and thoughts down. Maybe that’s because my soul has lived through thousands of years while most around me are living their 100th life. Or maybe I’m just narcissistic, who knows?

8. You shift between talking in first person and second person but that’s because that’s how you think in your head and talk to yourself and live your life. You ask yourself things and you accuse yourself of things and you apologize to yourself and you comfort yourself. I think that seeps into your writing and the changing of the voices.

9. You always genuinely thought that you’d not be afraid of dying. And then what happened this October proved you shockingly wrong. I know it’s not so much being afraid of dying but the unbearable pain of knowing what that would mean to your family. So you have to be more prudent and less reckless with your life and the choices you make.

10. Regret is not something that plagued you but this year the realisation and pain of giving away your favourite books from your own personal collection to people you care about as a show of affection and them turning out to be ass holes or losers has hit you so hard. So, yes. No more of that shit. I really fucking want my copy of The Perks Of Being A Wallflower back. UGH. With the childhood picture of me inside it!

11. Sleeping at 5 am in the morning stops being fun or romanticised when you realise just how much harm it does to your body and mind. Literally every single disease and disorder can be traced back to a shitty fucking sleep schedule. It’s not just the hours you sleep but also the quality of sleep and the time you sleep at. So yes sleeping for 8 hours is healthy but not if that 8 hours is from 5 am to 12 pm. ‘Not a morning person’ is just another construct of capitalism and you don’t realise how many industries profit from having you believe that and staying up late or all night. Entertainment. Food. Alcohol. Pharma. Biologically and naturally you are a bloody morning person. And you don’t need 3 cups of coffee to begin your day or your phone notifications to get you to open your eyes and brain to wake up.

12. Sometimes you really have to stop taking people so seriously. I know the idea of treating people as casual friends or entertainment makes you want to fight that concept but you know what? Some people like Pineapple are ever only going to be good for that. No matter how much they ‘grow and change’. So keep them in the background for whenever you want some entertainment or drama. But please don’t clear up your busy schedule to meet them or send them gifts on their birthday.

13. If you don’t have the fruit juice or green juice within half an hour of making it then you are losing out on its most optimum health benefits. Or when you remove the white stringy stuff from oranges. That’s where all the actual nutrients are.

14. I am privileged and so are most of the people I interact with. The global pandemic has been hell for a lot of people around the world. Health wise. Financially. Losing people they care about. But I was blessed enough to be safe at home and have a job that I could smoothly do from home and not have a pay cut or 4-hour long Zoom meetings. So honestly when my friends tell me 2020 has been bad I have to stop and ask them why? Yes, the crippling uncertainty and anxiety is not something that can be undermined. But most people I know had very great positive life-changing milestones this year like moving away to another country for college or taking their first solo trip or getting married. So I have to ask them. Because I am not going to agree that everybody’s 2020 and pandemic narrative is the same.

15. Money gets spent really quickly. When I left my job earlier this year because of personal issues, I thought I had enough savings to last me a year. Full disclosure - I mean to last my personal expenses because I live with my parents. But it didn’t even last me 3 months. And so to use money wisely and buy things that provide utility than instant gratification is something to follow. Also buying one pair of really expensive but quality shoes is better than buying 5 pairs of affordable but low quality shoes that will have a very short life and force you to buy more. I know that higher price doesn’t always mean better quality but sometimes it does. And as an adult now I want to do the whole quality > quantity thing even with things and not just people.

16. Everyone in their 20s went through a crisis of what they should do with their lives and their careers and it’s not unique to the 21st century and the challenges of today. Whether it was Vincent Van Gogh in the 19th century or Sylvia Plath in the 20th, every single person, as brilliant as them went through the torture of making these decisions and living with their consequences. You may think I picked wrong examples for they both killed themselves but you know what? They were the people who really want to live more than anyone. They knew what life meant. And maybe if mental health help was more accessible back then their lives would be longer and more peaceful.

17. Telling people everything is overrated. You don’t have to talk about every single thing that’s on your mind or that’s going on in your life. The good and the bad and the mediocre. You have to be mindful about how much of yourself you’re giving away.

18. Re-watch Suits when people at work feel intimidating because the confidence + negotiation tactics that they show can actually work irl cos at the end of the day no matter in what position you’re dealing with people who have emotions and fears and insecurities and desires. You understand how to leverage that nobody can get the better of you.

19. You belong to yourself. No matter how much you love someone or how much they have done for you or how much you owe them - you belong to yourself. You can’t live your life for someone else. Everyone belongs to themselves first. No relationship, no promise, no circumstance should make you feel like you have to give up your life and make it all about them. If and when the time comes to die for them, go ahead. Take a bullet. Donate that kidney. Write them in your will. But live your life for yourself. And let them live theirs.

20. Twenty three was a challenging year. When it started you claimed the age 23 sounds boring and insignificant. Guess it proved you wrong. It hurt so much now. But that only means you’ll look back on it later and see how it added so much wisdom and resilience to your being. It doesn’t mean that it makes all the bad things that happened to you okay. Or that you should be grateful to them. Fuck no. It means that you should be kinder to yourself because at the end of the day, your mind and body find it in themselves to deal with whatever is thrown their way. They have your back. It’s time you learn to sit straight.

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