#but yes I will share her with you it's only fair after 30 years of edging to that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

monpalace · 8 months

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ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, (linked universe) time/reader.

content .. it's only natural you search for your nephew after he enters the lost woods on a dare. you can't have a problem with the hand dealt to you when the beast who gives you shelter is so kind.

warnings .. no beta, we die like the promise i made to finish this before the summer after my junior year ended (i started this in april, it's august). i didn't know where i was going with this after a certain point and i think that's obvious. reader uses she/her pronouns. large, legal age gap (reader is in her 30's - 40's, time is a few hundred years old). less of a fic and more snippets, but it's almost 7.5k+ words. i don't think i explicitly say which link it is, so i guess it's ambiguous? nephew is named because this would be a pain to write otherwise.

notes .. prompted (not inspired!!) by beauty and the beast, but also the batb fanfic i found after my friend showed my an nsfw ao3 tag account on twitter. beelzebub / lord of the flies from fear and hunger was a huge inspo for link / time's physical description but there is leeway for how he can be envisioned. he's still large as shit though lmao. the layout of the manor was this, only because i wouldn't be able to write this without knowing.

supposedly there's gonna be a second part. supposedly.

idk. i might hate this enough to just. not.

The Lost Woods wasn't as intimidating as everyone talked it up to be.

Yes, it felt like the trees moved when you turned your back to them, and, granted, there were a few mobs of monsters that could get the jump on you if you weren't paying attention, but you had managed to get away with a few scrapes the few times it had happened.

The only thing to keep you company was the howling winds that grew in intensity and your own thoughts that were sprawling into whatever corners they could reach, but that was fine. You'd gratefully take decades-old gossip from the next town over instead of the creeping paranoia of what was behind you.

Of course, you would willingly go through this, that, and whatever else one thousand times over if it meant finding your nephew— and to keep yourself from reprimanding yourself from reprimanding the teens that had dared him out into the woods, but that was another thing.

Along your investigation, you'd found a broken trail of breadcrumbs that led to nothing when you followed them. They were torn pieces of fabric from his clothes, just big enough to be noticeable but small enough to keep himself protected from the elements.

(You'll forever be thankful that a younger your drilled the idea into his head.)

You'd long since discovered calling his name was useless. The only thing you've managed to do was draw the attention of a few wandering stalfos dressed in clothes from centuries ago.

The ones that had managed to find weapons were always the most painful to deal with.

If your determination weren't so established, you would've lost your sanity within the first day.

Food and water were no issue, you were smart enough to pack more than a week's worth of both. There were non-perishable options and several choices for your nephew when you found him; he'd no doubt have his fair share of cravings after being lost for so long.

(Three days was an eternity to you.)

Just before the sun had reached its crest in the sky, you'd realized that there were more empty clearings than trees. Wildlife had become scarce as well.

Where deers and wolves previously ran abundant, birds and squirrels that ran from the smallest of noises replaced them.

The wind had calmed, at least. It no longer wanted to push and shove you in whatever direction it pleased or steal the bag full of items you brought along. You didn't have to hug your sweater to your chest in fear of it being ripped from your arms either.

Instead, it was still.

Admittedly, the clearing gives you more paranoia than anything else.

When your mind starts to wander to places you'd rather it not reach, you begin to hum a quiet tune to yourself— your nephew's favorite— and allow it to ground you.

You were here for a reason. You wouldn't leave until you found him. You'll be fine until you find him, and you'll find some way to live in the forest that refuses to let its inhabitants go peacefully.

It's hours later when you hear the first sound of life (or suspended death) that doesn't feel like a threat— though, in hindsight, you should've been smarter and more suspicious of it when you first heard it.

A high-pitched instrument repeats each croon you let out, eventually taking over and silencing you. You follow the tune without much of a thought. If it were some sort of elaborate trap to lure you in, you couldn't be mad at yourself if you fell for it.

Clusters of trees become less and less as you follow the instrument and its recreation of your nephew's song. You call his name and are met with nothing but the music (from an ocarina, you quickly recognize) growing louder as time passes.

To say you're shocked when a large and, admittedly, well-kept manor enters your field of view would be an understatement. It's covered in vines, invasive arrowroots, and spreading flowers, but looks lived in if the smoldering smoke slowly dissipating in the afternoon air was anything to go by.

You couldn't begin to imagine who lived inside before the woods took it over (or what lived in it now). The architecture says it predates the Hero split in four, but you doubted the inhabitants of the floating sky built something so elaborate when they returned to the surface.

Your eyes jump past the crumbling pillars and dilapidated statues to the half-glass double doors that seemed to open on their own.

The music was coming from inside the manor now.

Steeling your nerves and squaring your shoulders, your hand grips tight on the strap of your satchel as you walk up the stone stairs covered in moss. You have to hold onto the guardrail installed next to it just as tight. Looking down, you find the carvings of it sorely separating it from the older antiquity of the manor.

Taking in smaller details (for future escapes or weapons against whatever lived inside, you'd figure out later), you find that the small pools of water that came from the sides of the manor and ran and fell alongside the stairs you climbed held small clumps of straw-colored fur. Some caused the surrounding water to turn into a pink hue that reminded you of fairies you've seen in childrens' books.

(Your hand reaches into the satchel to make sure you brought all of your nephew's well-loved books as well as a novel or two for yourself.)

(You did, thankfully.)

There's a smell filled with musk that permeates the air the closer you get to the manor, thick with amber and ginger and it reminds you of the times you come across a pack of wolves during your childhood.

Upon entering the manor, you find it was strongest in the wing of the manor to your right. It took over almost the entirety of your senses, but it wasn't an unwelcome or overwhelming sensation. If you paid close enough attention, you could sense the homely feeling underneath the ferality of it.

You prayed you'd be able to tell when the beast returned; if it was gone in the first place.

You take close note of how the foyer wasn't truly a foyer with how it was filled with windows rather than walls that led to a courtyard and how the only way to enter the wings of the manor was the winded stairs that connected via the terrace.

You don't fail to notice how the wing coated in the musky scent is coated entirely in shadows despite all the sources of light.

You couldn't decide if you were thankful or filled with loathing at the idea of what roamed on that side of the manor.

It's a struggle to turn your eyes away from the darkened wing of the manor, but you do manage when the music picks up once more from the left wing. It's significantly brighter and doesn't fill you with a sense of dread as the right one does.

Trap be damned, your nephew was here, you knew it— you felt it.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you find that you're inside a parlor room that leads to three other pathways. One was a library, another was a dining room, and the last was a small hallway.

In any other situation, you'd explore some more. The supposed beast that possibly lived in the manor kept everything in better shape than what you'd expect— or hopefully it was the forest spirits that lived throughout the forest.

Hopefully, those same spirits kept your nephew safe.

You have to close your eyes to better determine where the music is coming from, the only thing you can hear beside it and your own breathing being the manor settling. Your ears guide you inside the hall and you find it branches into a corridor, a bathroom, and two bedrooms.

Common sense seems to leave you when you spot the back of your nephew's head. Your breath quickens as you watch him clap along with the ocarina, you force your eyes to keep their clarity when you hear him hum each note just as you remember.

"''ire," you call in a weaker voice than you intended or thought you had. The nickname he claimed he hated so much tumbled from your lips so easily as you rushed inside the room, one arm rushing to remove your satchel while the other reached out to almost check if he was real.

The Lost Woods were known for their tricks, after all.

When he turns to face you, he's scrambling over himself in the bed. You're able to see how he limps on his right ankle and knee, how the entirety of his limbs were wrapped in bandage wrap as though done by a child. There was no blood, so you hold off on checking him over.

(The bandages were stained, thankfully not with blood. It was mostly dust and grime.)

(You'd have to sanitize whatever was wrong.)

You meet him more than halfway when you catch the way he winces and hisses with each movement.

"Auntie— Auntie— Titi!" His voice is airy as he speaks, emotion causing his words to come out as chokes. His arms reciprocated the tight hug you had on him, forcibly keeping his arms from trembling due to either nerves or injuries. "Titi, Titi, Titi!"

The way he says the word makes him sound like some chittering bug. If you listened hard enough, you could tell how his teeth clattered together, but you couldn't decipher if it was from a chill or emotion.

All you wanted to do was keep his head against the crook of your shoulder and neck while you pressed kisses to the crown of his head and kept him as close to you as you could, but you knew better.

Pulling away, you reach back for the satchel that you previously discarded. "What's wrong? What happened?" You force your voice to even out when you speak, hands already reaching for his arms after you sit the bag against your hip.

He shakes his head, but you've known him long enough to know there was something wrong. "They're from when I first went in the forest," he answers, voice quivering. "It's all healed. I think."

He doesn't push your hands away or pull his arms back when you skillfully unravel the bandages, carefully pulling and prodding the scars that littered the skin, and he was telling the truth despite the coloring.

"Did you forage like I taught you? Why are most of them green?"

"The spirits."

"The spirits?"

"And the soldier." He looks over your shoulder as though searching for their figures. "I haven't seen him yet, though."

Your eyes squint as one of your hands rubs over the strange texture of the scar, the other reaching for the antiseptic and clean fabric in your bag. "Are these spirits children or small trees with masks?"

You'd heard of both in legend. No one's ever seen them.

You're not sure which you'd rather watch over your nephew.

His eyes drift to his side before peering back over your shoulder once again. His brows furrow as he thinks of how to answer, head tilting as his pupils dilate.

"Both," he answers, "and ones that look like scarecrows. I asked them to bring you."

You force your gaze to keep itself on your nephew. You wouldn't let it wander to spirits you couldn't even see. "The ocarina?" You instead ask another question jumping around your mind, sucking your tongue in appreciation when he nods. "Smart boy."

An airy laugh leaves him, his face lighting up with a smile. "Learned from the best," he snorts.

You risk pressing kisses to the apples of his cheeks and forehead at his flattery, hands cupping themselves on the nape of his neck to bring him closer.

A younger him would push you away without a second thought, whining on about how you were embarrassing him in front of his friends.

He lets you do so now regardless of the spirits that surround you both.

"What've you been eating?" Your hands drop to his biceps when you pull away. They weren't thin like you'd expect them to be after three days in the forest; they were fatter than they had been before he left. "Who's been feeding you?"

His answer of "the Soldier," is quicker than you would've liked. "He goes out and hunts. He always brings back meat. I think it's deer.. it tastes.. bland."

"He.. cooks it, right?"

Another laugh wracks through your nephew's body. He knows you're only being cautious, but he can't help it.

"All the way through," he hums, flexing his arms when they start feeling stiff. "I think I don't like it because it's not your cooking."

He knows what your response is going to be before he finishes speaking, years of having lived under your guidance making him attuned to the smallest of your movements.

When your expression shifts from being relieved to disappointment with a twitch of your eye, he can tell you're not pleased with his statement.

Dousing the fabric in the antiseptic, you take his arm in your hand and begin wiping it down. "Don't be rude." Your voice takes on a less-than-pleased rasp, speaking lowly as if you knew the Soldier was near; but you still apologize when the sting sets in. "Have you thanked him?"

(You're sure you would continue to speak quietly regardless of the context of the conversation. You didn't want to risk "the Soldier," doing anything unfavorable.)

(Your nephew's words of praise did little to ease your stressed heart.)

"I never know when he's here. He drops the food off while I'm asleep. He brings books and carvings too." He watches as you wrap his arm in another roll of (cleaner) bandages, undoing the old one on his other arm while you prepare another piece of fabric. "The Spirits say I'm the most excitement he's had in a while, so he doesn't mind."

His voice was beginning to grow hoarse from speaking so quietly. You tap his throat to tell him to relax.

"They say he's nice," he continues, doing as told. Tapping the fingers of his now free hand against your shin, he tries to recall what all they've told him.

"I think they said he used to live in another part of the woods when he was a kid?—" His eyes glance back over your shoulder, suddenly becoming sure of himself. "— Ah. They did. They said he left and came back when he was older."

You raise a brow but don't speak your question.

Your nephew takes hold of your retreating hands in both of his.

A clatter and snippy huff outside the bedroom door rouses you from your light sleep.

Nearing a week into your stay at the manor, you'd think you'd be more accustomed to the noise, but you aren't.

You carefully remove your nephew's head from your arm, using even more caution when trying to remove the conjoined weight of several spirits from your legs as you slip out of the bed.

It's hard, but you manage to do so without waking any of them— you hope.

(You still couldn't see any of the Spirits, but over time you could feel when they crowded around you and when the wind moved as they rushed past you.)

The floorboards creak beneath your feet.

You hear the sound of claws scratching against the floor on the other side of the door.

Pressing the crown of your head against the door, you tap your fingers along the handle to give the Soldier a warning and wait a few moments.

If you listened hard enough, you swear you could hear him scurrying into one of the other rooms before he shut the door behind him.

It reminded you of a dog.

Smiling to yourself, you're careful opening the door, keeping your head to it and your eyes on the floor. You turn to the other side of it to close it, waiting for the click of the lockset to speak.

"Are you decent?"

His confused "huh," sounds more akin to a gasp than any other noise.

You rap your fingers against the handle again. "Can I look up?"

"Oh—" he sounds choked. "Yeah— Yes. Yes. You can. Sorry."

"Thank you," you hum, leaning down to pick up the tray of food. It consisted of almost entirely meat with a few vegetables you figure are exclusive to the woods. "For both the food and taking care of my nephew."

There was a thumping noise behind the door, the frequency of it was like a tail beating excitedly.

The Soldier lets out a croaking noise and you know his mouth started moving before his mind was able to catch up. "No, I should thank you for looking for him— and for telling him not to use his name."

You let out an airy laugh. "It's common knowledge where I'm from. I wouldn't be a good parental figure if I didn't."

Another noise leaves the Soldier as you fix yourself to open the door. You can't discern what this one means. "I don't know when they started calling me the Soldier, but it's not— uhm.. A favorite.. of mine."

"Oh?"

"Soldier," he sounds more confident in himself and you don't have the heart to tell him you heard him the first time, "it's a nickname. I don't know where the kids got it, but I don't like it."

Readjusting the tray to rest against your hip and forearm rather than in both your hands, you hum curiously. "So what should we be calling you?"

He pauses longer than you'd think it'd take to remember your own name, but you wait.

"Link."

"Link?"

"Yes."

"Like in a chain?"

".. Yes."

You nod even though you're sure he can't see you. "I'll be sure to tell 'ire."

"Thank you." There's more thumping from behind the door.

"And thank you."

There's another noise from Link you struggle to understand, but you figure it's because he starves for conversation. "I heard what your nephew said about the food, too. I'll try to find something to flavor it with next time I'm out."

"Thank you," you repeat. Your eyes curve with your smile. "He'll greatly appreciate it."

Link raps his fingers against the door in response, but he doesn't say anything. You take that as your queue to reenter the bedroom.

"How come your side of the house is always dark?"

You gently pinch your nephew's elbow and he swats your hand away, leaning impossibly close to the door that separates him and Link.

There are a few moments of silence from the man that 'ire filled with bated breath. Link takes an audible, steadying breath before knocking what you think is his nail against the door.

"I wouldn't want to scare you both off."

It was an answer you expected, but you were disappointed nonetheless.

"Boo," your nephew groans. You're sure Link could hear the pout in his voice if the quiet chuckle he lets out was anything to go by. "You can't be worse than what I've seen out there."

There's genuine intrigue in the noise Link lets out. "Oh? What exactly have you seen then?"

Pure excitement fills your nephew's expression when he turns to look at you from over his shoulder. His fingers tap against the floor restlessly, tongue already listing off whatever monsters he's encountered (read: come up with) in his twelve years of life.

"— but their teeth are the worst! They're poisonous and there isn't a cure for it!"

You have no clue as to what creature he was talking of now. There were at least fifteen of them who injected poison through their teeth, eight of which had no cure.

(You don't have to strain as hard to see the Spirits as you did two weeks ago. The shadows and light shift around then as they move to sit around your nephew, seemingly hooked on your nephew's every word.)

(You remember when he would crowd himself around you similarly whenever you would tell him a story.)

You close the book that sat in your lap more for decoration than entertainment at that point and place a hand over your heart.

"I drew a lot of them too! My aunt brought them with her!" He pushes himself through the motions of standing up before immediately stopping and returning to his seat in front of the door. "I'll show them to you if you eat dinner with us!"

There are a few stammering noises from the other side of the door and yet you can't bring yourself to apologize for your nephew's bargaining.

Your own curiosity was quickly starting to get the better of you against your wishes.

The noise he had made several nights before makes itself heard again. His claws (you discovered those a few nights ago) scratch against the wooden flooring as he moves to sit against the other wall rather than the door, his voice moving with him.

"I don't want to— I wouldn't want— want to disturb you— either of you." His words are muffled by the door and his growing quietness, a regretful lilt stuck in his throat. "But thank you for the offer."

If he truly didn't want to join you and your nephew (and the spirits) for dinner, he was terrible at showing it.

"I know I wouldn't mind," you hum, standing to put away the book. A loud thumping makes the floor vibrate and 'ire has to stifle a laugh. "I wouldn't mind picking up a pot and pan again either."

"No!" Link quickly apologizes for his tone after realizing his outburst. "You don't have to. I wouldn't be a good host if I made you do that."

"Are you scared I'll poison you?"

Your nephew's voice drops to a whisper he swears you won't be able to hear. "She can't. She's the best cook ever."

You're not sure how the two correlate, but you'd take thew compliment.

"She won't?" Link's voice drops to entertain your nephew despite his earlier convictions. It takes on a playful direction, fur rubbing against the wood-tiled floors in excitement (based on prior interactions). "You've never gotten sick? Not once?"

'ire begins to shake his head but quickly stops. "Only from eating too much— which you will do, by the way. Best cook around," he reiterates.

Link chuckles, tapping his fingers against the floor restlessly. It takes him a moment to come up with something to say and neither of you push him to hurry.

You were both too hooked on his every word to do so anyway.

"I'll.." He's shy for all the attention. You wonder when the last time he got so much focus on him outside of the spirits. ".. I'll be sure to think about your offer. Why don't you tell me about a few of your monsters so I have more of an incentive?"

Your nephew jumps on the opportunity while you think over the plethora of recipes in your mind.

It wasn't rare for one of the imps to accompany you outside when you went foraging.

You never strayed too far from the manor— the last time you had been dragged outside of the area you had designated for yourself (and your nephew) by the children, Link had to come and rescue to lot of you before the sun had gotten too low.

Suffice to say, it was a rather humbling experience.

Kneeling, squatting, or sitting on the ground had never been easy on your knees or back, but the grass below you had felt as though it were a pillow hailing from the Heavens itself.

Your body works on picking herbs from the ground before placing them in your bag repurposed for your (new) everyday tasks while your mind wanders elsewhere.

You're humming to yourself when a twig snapping breaks your focus.

It was a nice reminder that the imps hadn't, in fact, accompanied you that day.

Your head lifts to survey the surrounding woods. Your entire body was still, mimicking a deer caught on a hunting trip.

There was nothing immediately in your line of sight that could be seen as a threat, but you had lived a long enough life to know that wasn't enough reason to let your guard down.

You're slow to rise to your feet and your ears are strained as you listen for whatever had made the noise.

"I'm sorry!"

You can feel your body relax when you hear Link's voice call out from behind a tree. You sink back to your knees without much thought, clutching the fabric of your top to calm your battering heart.

You weren't sure what you were going to do if it were an actual danger anyway.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he continues. His arms move and you can see one drop against the side of a tree while the other tightens around the corpse of an animal. "You were so still, I wasn't sure if you were okay."

A quiet, breathless noise leaves you. You're not sure if he could hear it, but you can see his shoulders relax when you do. "You're— You're fine! I just.. didn't know that you'd be out and about at this time."

When the hand not occupied with that week's dinner (barely) lifts to grab ahold of a tree branch, you're shocked to just now find out how tall he is.

"It's not your fault. I didn't know you were out here," he grunts while gently tugging at the branch. "Are you alone?"

Your eyes drop to the flora that surrounds you to not feel so invasive. Your fingers rub against the blades of grass idly when a restless feeling overtakes you. "A few of the kids said they'd join me later, but I'm not too sure when that's supposed to be." A short, genuine laugh leaves you. "I wouldn't be surprised if they forgot."

Link lets out his own, quiet laughter that you can only clue together when you see the entire tree shake in your peripheral. "I wouldn't take it to heart. They say they'll join me in hunting all the time but never do."

"Have you ever given them a stern talking to? I've heard that usually works with spirits."

"They barely listen to me as is. I think you'd have more luck than me."

"Is that an offer?"

"Are you headed home now?"

A strange vice tightens around your heart at his wording while you look through your bag. "Mhm," you hum, standing now that your legs aren't like that of a newborn. "You'll have to remind me of the way, though."

"I can guide you," he hums in reply. "You just can't look back."

Turning your back to him, you're surprised you don't jump when a sharp claw gives a ghostly touch to the center of your back.

You're shocked that you disregard the urge to check over your shoulder every step back to the manor.

You were no stranger to 'ire's night terrors.

They'd gotten better over the past few years as he aged, but all that progress had been undone during the near month you'd been in the forest.

Wiping away the tears that had managed to slip out, you ignore the prickly and uncomfortable feeling that comes with keeping your lulling head up so you can watch him.

You'd done it a thousand times before and would do it one thousand and one more if it meant he felt better.

You don't miss how his grip on your arm tightens when you start humming his favorite song. Your hand trails up to his hairline, nails (claws?) tracing the paint on his face that refused to fade.

You'd spent so long trying to scrub them and the green marks off, you hadn't even realized his skin had started to pale into a sickly grey in patches while darkening into (what looked like) a necrotic black in others.

You didn't even want to think about the changes that had started coming to your body.

You were, however, thankful you weren't thinning into a stalfos.

"You're not as sneaky as you'd like to think."

"How'd you know?"

"I have a young nephew. You learn quickly."

A brief laugh leaves Link from behind the cracked door. Though you didn't face him, you could see the way his eyes illuminated the wall in front of you, even managed to catch on some of 'ire's face.

It was a pretty blue color.

You don't comment on it.

"What's wrong?" Your voice has a deep rasp to it, your hand continuing to stroke your nephew's face even after he begins to calm down.

He'd slowly begun dropping more and more barriers (physical and mental) when it came to communicating with you both, having taken up shadows in their stead. He had gotten more confident in conversation as well, stammering and stuttering less the longer your nephew forced him to talk.

It makes you wonder how long it'd take for him to finally make true on those dinner plans.

"I heard him," Link hums just as quietly, the glow of his eyes moving to instead look over the sleeping spirits that crowded themselves around the space not occupied on the bed. "I was worried. Do you want help with them?"

A soft laugh leaves you when one of the imps buries their head onto your calf as though it were a pillow. "They've been like this since we first got here. 'ire," you press a kiss to his forehead when he rouses, waiting for him to settle before speaking again, "says they like to cling."

"You don't mind?"

"He's not too far off from them nowadays."

"Does he miss anything?"

Laying on your back, you being 'ire's head to rest against your shoulder. Your gaze is finally able to see how he'd take up all of the doorway (and then some) through the crack of the door.

You'd be shocked he hadn't flinched away if it hadn't been for the way his hand reached out to clasp it.

The tips of his fingers reached well past the frame of the door, his claws further, and you could only imagine just how much space he was taking up in the small hallway.

You were confident he could fit five or six of you in his hand without trying.

Your eyes jump back to the three (possibly four?) eyes before he can become self-conscious.

"Almost everything," you answer after pulling yourself from your thoughts. "His clothes, his dolls.. He could go without his friends, though."

His eyes jump from your face to the window as he huffs out a nervous laugh. It makes you wonder if he knows something you don't, but you don't push. "And you?"

"Hmm?"

"And yourself," he clarifies, "what do you miss?"

You're silent.

What exactly did you miss?

The feeling of your village's grass between your toes after the rain, the baker's treats that no other could replicate, being a part of such a tight-knit community, the sun after a particularly muggy morning—

There wasn't any need to be a sap.

"I'm not sure," you finally say after a long period of silence. You hadn't realized your eyes had left Link, yet when you force your gaze back to him, he holds it without issue. "I struggled with becoming attached to things unlike 'ire."

"Hm."

"What?"

"I can't remember the last time someone said something like that."

"You have visitors like us often?"

"More than you'd think."

"And what's become of them?"

The glow of his eyes drops to the sleeping spirits that litter before looking to the window again and you quickly understand.

The hum that leaves your throat is more lackluster than you intended it to be, but given how quickly the topic had changed, you give yourself the grace.

"Well," you start after clearing your throat, "what's something that you miss?"

The manor creaks when Link leans against a wall and his confidence in the movement tells you more than you'd expected.

You don't think you'd ever have the same amount of trust he held in it.

There's a playful tone in his voice when he speaks, one of his hands raised to scratch against his chin. "You'd have to promise not to be dramatic when I say."

"Is it my fault you use such outdated terms thousands of years behind my time?"

Link turns away to stifle his laughter, shrouding the room in darkness and forcing your eyes to strain with it.

"I can't say I've had the easiest experience understanding you or your nephew's sayings," he hums, drowning you in the light of his eye when he turns back, "the kids have to keep filling me in."

"Shame, and here I thought you'd been closer to my age. Have you been leading me on this entire time?"

Link's claws knock against the wall, his tail wagging against the floor while he huffs his amusement. "Have I? When I don't even know your name?"

If the weight of 'ire wasn't on your shoulder, you're sure you would've had a physical reaction of some sort.

"It'd do you good to not forget it," he hums, the movement of his tail slowing until it stops entirely. "Titi and Auntie, as much as I hate to say it, won't do much good."

Another lackluster noise leaves you as the arm trapped underneath your nephew lifts to rub your thumb during his forehead. "How fun."

"The kids are too attached to do anything now." The door slowly creaks open before stopping. It shuts so there's only a crack instead. "You'll be fine to share your name now."

"You never answered my question."

"Which one?"

"I haven't asked a lot," you huff before taking a softer tone, eyes rolling closed. "What is it that you miss?"

Link quietly snorts, muffling it by pressing his face to the door. He takes a steadying breath before saying a quiet, "a lot, I suppose. I can't name just a few things." A low noise leaves him, it's similar to a growl. "My friends? Playing music as well— my hands aren't good for much but skewering these days. My horse, Epona, too. She was the prettiest mare."

"Is she red with a white mane?"

"You saw the kids' drawings?"

"I've seen her before, I think— or maybe it was a hallucination?" The hand stroking 'ire's forehead stops as you scrounge your memories. "When I saw her outside the forest, I knew it was real. Another fated hero was mounting her."

You'd like to think yourself a master of figuring out what each noise he makes is meant to mean, but the one Link lets out once you finish speaking is short and of a higher pitch than normal.

When he begins to stammer over his words as he had when you first interacted with him, it feels like years' worth of progress has been undone.

"I— uhm— You— I don't— err— Thank—"

His tail thumps three times before he knocks his head against the door with a heavy groan. He lets out a quiet "Hylia, be damned," you couldn't help but think he hoped you wouldn't hear to go along with his frustration.

"It's been a long night," you finally prompt. "You'd best get some shut-eye before 'ire bombards you with more from his imagination, yeah?"

"Yeah," Link answers in a weak voice. "Yeah," he repeats to himself more than anything, "of course. Good night," he steps away from the door. "Sleep well."

"Same for you."

The night Link finally takes you and 'ire up on your offer for dinner, your nephew and the spirits had taken to floating around the east wing's dining room to prepare it for such a grand event.

"Titi, titi!" One of the Kokiri exclaims, tugging at the fabric of your skirt (that Link had made out of a spare bedsheet). Her voice had a strange echo to it— all of them, really— and had given you migraines up until you'd finally become accustomed to it. "'ire says that you'll make your world-famous pudding! Will you? Will you?"

You ignore her exaggeration in favor of forcing yourself to wrench your eyes away unless you wanted her puppy dog face to work on you. "Should I? I.. I can't say any of you have been acting well enough to deserve it.."

Even in your peripheral, it's not hard to miss the absolutely crushed look on her face. Her eyes were wide and her bottom lip wobbling like she was about to cry despite your joking tone.

"But why—y," she whines, dragging the last syllable on while hiccuping on her breath as she went on. You know the tears pooling in her eyes are just as fake as your rejection of her request— but you know just as well who'll win the battle at the end of the day.

"I—" hiccup. "Want—" hiccup. "Cake—" hiccup.

You raise a brow. "Pudding or cake, sweetheart? I can't make both."

The girl begins to climb your back while you return to sautéing the vegetables, arms wrapping around your neck so she can press her cheek against yours. "Cake! No, pudding! No! Cake! No—"

"I'll tell you what," you interrupt, taking the pan from over the open flame once the food is charred to your liking. Your skin thanks you when you step away and douse the fire, the arid air leaving through the open window. "Why don't you ask a few of the others which they want then we can try and get Link to bake it after dinner?"

The girl jumps off your back with stars practically filling her eyes. She cries out for several names while she runs off, hands clapping excitedly as she shouts out the change in plans.

You're left in peace until your nephew enters with his journals clutched between his arms, bouncing between his feet while he watches you finish plating each food item on dishes you could only dream of owning where you're from.

"D'you think he'll come?" 'ire's voice is low, almost as though scared Link will hear. You know he does if the night of his nightmares a few months ago were anything to go by— but he didn't need to know that.

"He'd better," you answer in an equally low tone. "I didn't spend so long slaving away at this just for him not to."

"Is that a threat?"

The plates in your hands aren't spared by the flinch that wracks through your body. Your reflexes are quick to catch them before any of the food can hit the floor.

'ire, on the other hand, has no issue with voicing his shock in the form of a scream, scurrying from the doorway while dropping his journals. He jumps behind you, hands clutching the fabric of your skirt while he hides himself behind your hip.

"Well?"

Placing a hand over your racing heart after putting the plates down, your other hand comes down to rest on 'ire's head. "It's rude to sneak up on people, you know."

The blond fur of his chest rustles with his laughter. It was difficult to see much else other than that, what with the way he hid himself behind the wall connecting the kitchen to the pantry.

You hadn't even heard his footsteps or creaking floorboards when he first approached. Had he been there the entire time and 'ire hadn't seen him, or had he only walked in after 'ire entered?

You wondered if he was naturally quiet or if he just learned which floorboards were loose.

"Is it sneaking when you were expecting me?" Link's voice is lighter than it usually is, a slight tremble could even be heard if you focused on it enough. He rocks on his feet and briefly leans forward, a less organic-looking side profile coming into view before leaving right after. "If I knew I would be this unwelcomed, I—"

"That's a joke, right?" 'ire stomps away from your side while he speaks, stepping over his discarded compilations of works to stare up at Link with wide eyes. Your nephew ignores the way Link's hands raise to cover his face and how he backs away as soon as he pivots in his foot to face him. "You're not actually gonna pansy out, right?"

Your feet lead you to the two before you can have much of a thought. "Zaire," you say in a terse voice, taking hold of his shoulder and bringing him against your front so you can stop him from interrogating the poor man. "Don't be rude." ��

Whatever argument he has dies on his tongue when he takes a good, long look at Link. His mouth gaped open like a fish, one of his fingers lifting so he could push it into the fur of his stomach, watching the skin beneath sink with the force of it as though it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Woah."

If you had any less sense of dignity, you'd let yourself have the same reaction.

"Don't be rude," you reiterate, pushing Zaire's hand down until it finally reaches its rightful place at his side.

"No," Link breathes into his palms, clearing his voice to try and rid it of the anxiety (and, possibly, humiliation). "He's— he's fine. This wouldn't be the first time someone responded like that. I'd be more concerned if he did any other way."

Zaire shrugs your hands from your shoulders, stepping until he is toe-to-claw with Link. "Then why are you hiding your face? It can't be that bad," he says, tugging at the fur of Link's elbows, rubbing them between his fingers so he could better be accustomed to the texture.

Spreading his fingers enough so you both could see the four holes in the inorganic material, Link lets out another heavy breath. "I'm self-conscious," he can tell the answer doesn't please Zaire and continues speaking, "It's been.. too long.. since I've shown anyone either of my faces."

"A mask is.." Your voice falters off when you finally find the words to speak, losing them again when you fail to find a proper way to articulate your thoughts.

"It's mostly you and the kids, no?" You try again when you figure out a way to better word it. "Is a mask not.. Is it.. necessary?"

When the blue light that emits from his eyes lifts to look at you, an unidentifiable emotion shoots through you. He holds your gaze for a few, silent moments before turning his head and dropping his hands.

"It's like a second skin," he simply offers.

"Sad," Zaire sighs, backing away and turning until he stood in the center of the kitchen. "Can you still eat with it? Like I said, Auntie is the best cook in all the realms and you have to taste it to believe it."

Curse your nephew's skill of lightening a mood.

Rather than let his insecurities keep him from looking at either of you for the duration of the night, Link looks down at Zaire with a playful jolt of his shoulders. "It's not fused with my face."

Zaire's eyes curl into crescents while he grabs two of the plates from the counter. "Good!" His tail (a terrifying new addition when he first started changing) wraps around the third dish, walking himself past the two of you in the pantry so he could place each one on the dining table. "You'll love this then! Auntie," you don't miss the way he adds your name causally, "always makes this on a big day!"

Link repeats your name under his breath before doing the same with Zaire's. He lets out a thoughtful nod as each one rolls off his tongue, one pair of eyes looking at you while the other continues to follow your nephew.

He wrings his hands together when he catches the way you examined him oh-so-carefully, arms crossed with your head tilted.

"It's nice," he gulps as though every inch of nervousness had reentered his body. "It's a nice name. I like it. It suits you."

You don't know if you were teasing him prior, but you decide to do so now.

"I'd hope so." You pat a hand against his arm as you walk into the kitchen, ignoring the oily feel of his fur. You ignore the feeling of him watching and instead focus on searching through the cupboards for the drink you had foraged around to make just days before. "I could say the exact same for you, thankfully."

"Now, why don't you have a seat so I can play host this time?"

102 notes · View notes

ao719 · 10 months

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…Sometimes Not (Part 4)

Watching, Waiting Patiently

This is a submission for @choicesflashfics, using prompt #2, “Pretending to be happy is pretty damn exhausting.”

Song inspo: Let the New Begin - CHPTRS

A/N: This is an au mini series to my Always You story. Not beta’d. Please excuse any errors.

Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x OC (Reyna)

Rating: T • Warnings: None but some mild language.

Word count: 2500

Catch up here

Sitting inside his home office, Gideon flipped through paperwork on an early Saturday afternoon; the penthouse, which a few hours earlier consisted of Catherine and his sister Elsie chattering loudly over breakfast before going to meet Reyna, was now quiet.

Hearing his phone, Gideon kept his eyes on his papers as he blindly reached for it, lifting the receiver to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hello, old friend.”

Gideon smiled as he leaned back in his chair. “Constantine,” he said with amusement in his tone. “Isn’t it past your bedtime there?”

“It’s only 7:30, you ass.”

A rumble of laughter erupted from Gideon. “As I said …”

Constantine chuckled. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Trying to lessen my Monday workload by doing some today. How are you and Regina?”

“I can’t complain, and Regina is well,” Constantine replied. “How’s Catherine?”

“She’s good. She and Elsie went out with Reyna this morning.”

“Ah,” Constantine said. “Wedding planning, I gather?”

“Trying.”

Constantine heard the shift in his friend’s tone. “Why do you sound bothered?”

Gideon sighed. “I’m not bothered. Reyna just seems to be … stalling.”

“How so?”

“They went to look at a venue today because she needs to choose one in order to choose a date,” Gideon explained.

“She hasn’t set a date yet?”

“No. And today’s visit will be the fifth place they’ve gone to look at over the past few months. They’ve already been to The Plaza Hotel, The Pierre, the Cipriani Wall Street, and — the groom’s top pick, probably because he’s not paying for it — 620 Loft & Garden, all of which are undoubtedly the most high-end and sought-after wedding venues in the city … but she has said no to all.”

“And her reasons?”

“She says ‘they don’t feel right,’” Gideon said, repeating his daughter’s words.

“Hmm,” Constantine hummed in thought. “Perhaps she wants something less … grand.”

“Well, the place they went to look at today, Blue Hill At Stone Barns, is still high-end, but more … laid back.”

“I’m sorry … did you say barn?”

“It’s not an actual barn,” Gideon scoffed. “Think of it more like … one of your fancy countryside estates. It sits outside the hustle and bustle of the city, a very nice venue. But I have no doubts that Catherine will be back soon and will say that Reyna found something wrong with it.”

“They’ve been engaged, what, nearly a year?” Constantine asked.

“Yes,” Gideon answered. “Which isn’t that long. Luca, however, seems to be growing a tad impatient as of late.”

“Has Reyna said what kind of place she’s looking for? What would make it feel right to her?”

Gideon sighed. “I think you and I both know that the venue has nothing to do with it not feeling right.” Constantine fell into an agreeable silence. “Speaking of … how’s Liam?”

Constantine and Gideon had monthly phone conversations, keeping each other up to date on their lives and that of their children. They never shared the updates with Liam or Reyna, however, per their requests.

It had been two months since Liam’s divorce had been finalized. Gideon’s initial inclination was to tell Reyna after Constantine shared the news, but he reluctantly agreed when Catherine said they couldn’t; she told him that if she was going to find out, it needed to be on her own and not because he was trying to meddle.

Meddling. It was a fair accusation.

Gideon made his concerns about Reyna’s decision to accept Luca’s proposal no secret to his wife. To him, it felt rushed and for all of the wrong reasons. And despite knowing that learning of the changes in Liam’s life could potentially alter her decision, he knew she needed to see things differently on her own.

Reyna had said she didn’t want to rush the engagement, but after nearly a year, Luca seemed to be pushing her to set a date, just like he pushed her to put that announcement in the Times. And she was going along with it as best she could, looking at multiple venues over the last few months, even caving and buying a few bridal magazines to make herself appear more interested than her father believed her to be, but she had yet to make any actual decisions.

Gideon wasn’t upset that Reyna had yet to plan any of this wedding; his frustrations stemmed from knowing that deep down, she was stalling for a reason, one she refused to acknowledge because she felt guilty and, in a way, obligated. He and Catherine both knew it, but they also knew she needed to navigate this on her own. He would step in when he needed to — if he needed to.

According to the updates from Constantine over the last two years, Liam, like always, had been a mask of stoicism; even after what happened with Drake and Riley, he carried on as a paragon of emotionless perfection. That was up until a month ago when Leo pushed his brother to finally open up about how he was really doing. Liam completely broke down, not about his divorce and what had led to it … but about how much he missed Reyna. According to what Leo told Constantine, he’d never seen Liam that upset before.

Knowing that Liam was still affected so much by the absence of her in his life more than two years after the fact tugged on both of the fathers’ heartstrings. And Gideon knew, even though he was the one thing she never talked about with him or anyone else, that Reyna was still affected by Liam’s absence as well. He knew not only because of his fatherly instincts but because he happened to stumble across a journal while helping her move into her apartment; he never spoke of the pages he glimpsed when it fell open on the floor from a box of books he’d been carrying.

Both Gideon and Constantine knew that the things Liam and Reyna had gone through would have been easier had they had one another to lean on, and in hindsight, probably wouldn’t have happened at all. Yet here they were, over two years with no contact, and both internally miserable.

A while after ending his call with Constantine, Gideon was sitting in the living area of the penthouse. The elevator doors slid open, and Catherine stepped out. “Hi,” he said as he stood to greet her.

Catherine smiled as he kissed her cheek. “Hello.”

“Well …?” Gideon asked as he drew back.

Catherine shook her head. “It was a no.”

*******

•Three Months Later•

Gideon stood in front of the elevator as Catherine, Reyna, and Elsie piled inside with their luggage. They were headed out of town for a girls’ weekend after the two elders deemed that Reyna, despite insisting she was fine, needed some time away from the city.

“Have fun,” Gideon smiled. “And be safe. Call me when you get there.”

“Stop being such a worry wart,” Elsie playfully scoffed before the doors started to close.

As soon as the doors slid shut, Gideon turned on his heels and hurried down the hall to his home office. He picked up the phone, quickly dialing the number.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Constantine,” Gideon said as he sat in his chair. “How are you?” The two briefly caught up on their busy lives in the few weeks since they last spoke. “And how is the family?” he asked.

“They’re well.”

“How’s Liam been?”

“Pretending to be happy is pretty damn exhausting, but he’s pushing through, like always. How’s Catherine?”

“She’s well,” Gideon answered.

“And Reyna?”

“She’s good,” Gideon replied, then there was a pause. “She’s one of the reasons I called. I have news …”

“Has she finally picked a date? Is this my official invitation?” Constantine chuckled.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” Gideon fell quiet for a moment. “She ended the engagement …”

“Oh?” Constantine perked up. “Did … did something happen?”

Gideon explained how last week, Luca had taken it upon himself to look into a destination wedding without talking to Reyna about it … until after he booked it. He went on to say that he was tired of her “dragging her feet” and that he wanted to marry her “sooner rather than later.” That seemed to have snapped something into place for Reyna, realizing that nothing felt right because it wasn’t right, not for her at least. She ended both the engagement and relationship.

With a box of her favorite gourmet cupcakes in hand, Gideon stopped by her apartment on his way home from work the following evening. While picking at a decadent red velvet treat, Reyna told him she should have ended things sooner, that she never should have accepted the proposal to begin with. When he asked why, she said that she’d not been fair, that he was a consolation prize, and it was guilt that made her stay.

Gideon didn’t ask who he was second runner-up to. He didn’t need to.

“How is she holding up?” Constantine asked.

“Good, all things considered,” Gideon replied. “She seems … lighter than she has in a while, no longer holding onto that guilt.”

“Good … that’s good to hear.”

The two men fell silent, each able to tell the other’s wheels were turning just as their own were. Finally, Gideon cleared his throat. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Indeed. It’s time.”

********

Constantine drummed his fingers against the mahogany surface of his desk, staring at the door to his study as he waited.

It had been five months since Constantine and Gideon decided to secretly conspire. They waited a month or so, allowing things for Reyna to settle a bit before they began trying.

At first, it started with phone calls, purposely phoning the other for “casual conversation” when Liam and Reyna were around. They hoped that it would ignite some spark of curiosity, enough to get the two of them to talk. It seemed to rouse something; Constantine would catch Liam staring at him while he spoke to Gideon, and Gideon would catch Reyna lingering when she would normally excuse herself to give him privacy. The two fathers quickly realized, however, that the almost three years that had passed since they last saw or spoke had created a barrier of awkwardness that stopped them from reaching out.

They thought about telling them about the changes the other had gone through — Liam’s divorce and Reyna ending her engagement — to maybe help coax them into that first step. They couldn’t, though, not without drawing suspicion from Catherine and Regina should they find out. They wouldn’t be pleased with the two of them meddling.

After a couple of months, when the phone calls failed to make headway, Gideon and Constantine shifted their plan to try to work out an “impromptu” visit. Schedules had not been aligning, however. With both Liam and Reyna constantly on the go, it seemed nearly impossible without making it blatantly obvious.

Until now.

When Catherine fell ill with a bout of the flu, unable to attend a charity event in Paris as a member of its board, Gideon convinced Reyna to go in her stead; she’d done it before.

Now the ball was in Constantine’s court. He needed to get Liam to Paris, and the timing with his schedule couldn’t have worked out better.

A knock on his study door had Constantine sitting up straight before calling for them to enter. A moment later, Liam stepped inside. “Hello,” he smiled. “You asked to see me?”

“I did,” Constantine nodded. “How’d the council meeting go?”

“Good,” Liam answered. “I was given the last of the budget reports from the duchies. Now, I’m officially on vacation.” He’d taken a much-needed two weeks off.

“About that …” Constantine smiled sheepishly. When Liam’s expression fell, he held up his hands defensively. “You can say no.” I’m really hoping you don’t. “The Cordonian Art Gallery opening is in a few weeks, and there is a French dignitary who has a piece he’d like to donate.”

“Ok …” Liam furrowed his brow. “And?”

“He wants to donate it to you … directly. In-person … in Paris. And this week is the only time he’s available before the opening. The piece … it’s an original Monet. I don’t think I need to tell you how prestigious that could be for the gallery to have on display.”

“Why does he want to donate it directly? Why can’t he just draw up a promissory note?”

“I think he wants to use the opportunity for a photo op with the King, but you didn’t hear that from me,” Constantine chuckled. Liam sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I know you were looking forward to doing nothing. But you can still do nothing in Paris. Who doesn’t like a little getaway to The City of Light?”

Liam met his gaze; the art gallery was a project his father had taken on after he found out he was in remission two years ago, wanting to keep himself busy. He knew how important this opening was to him, and what a big part the pieces it displayed would play in its success.

Constantine’s phone rang, and he looked down. “That’s him now …” He glanced back at Liam with a hopeful flicker in his eyes.

“Fine,” Liam sighed. “When can he meet?”

“Let’s ask,” Constantine grinned before reaching down and lifting the receiver to his ear. “Mr. Moreau! How are you?” His eyes flickered to Liam and he waved him over. “He just walked into my study. Hold on.”

When the call was placed on speaker, Liam leaned against the desk. “Hello, Mr. Moreau.”

“Bonjour, Votre Majesté!”

Liam startled; the man’s greeting was loud and … enthusiastic. “My father tells me you have a piece you’d like to donate to his gallery?”

“Oh, oui oui! Ze most exquisite! I promise, eet eez really worth eet!”

Liam’s gaze snapped up to his father and his eyes widened at the now thick — and strange — French accent he spoke with. “Uh … yes, so I’ve heard.” He cleared his throat. “Is there a particular day that works better for you to meet?”

“You come tomorrow and I let your papa know! Au revoir pour le moment!”

The line went dead.

Liam stood upright. “You’re joking, right?”

“He’s just … eccentric,” Constantine said.

“What the hell was wrong with his voice?”

“Don’t be rude,” Constantine admonished. “It’s just how he talks.”

“He didn’t even give me an exact day!” Liam scoffed.

“So, just go tomorrow … take some time for yourself, enjoy Paris, and I will be sure to be in touch with him and let you know, no later than the middle of the week.”

Liam sighed as he turned. “You owe me.”

Constantine held back his smile until Liam disappeared into the hallway; he stepped around his desk and moved to the door. When he peered out to make sure Liam was gone, he spotted his eldest son coming down the hall.

Leo tipped his head to him in greeting, and Constantine returned it. “Mr. Moreau.”

“Bonjour!” Leo snorted. “I can’t believe he actually bought that bullshit. He really does need a vacation.”

Constantine chuckled as he slipped back inside and shut his door, hurrying to his desk; he reached for his phone and dialed the number. When Gideon answered, Constantine quickly brought him up to speed, letting him know Liam would be heading to Paris sometime tomorrow.

“Reyna left this afternoon,” Gideon said. “I set her up in the hotel across from the one you said Liam normally stays at when he’s there.”

“So, what’s the plan now?” Constantine asked.

“We did our part. Now it’s up to nostalgia and fate …”

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

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128 notes · View notes

misslavenderlady · 1 year

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He's Just an Actor - Chapter 1 ❤️

Dwayne/Female!Reader (She/Her Pronouns)

Summary: The reader has gotten used to her time in the world of The Lost Boys and her new relationship with the handsome vampire, Dwayne. When the boys get curious about the actors who play them in the other world, the reader suddenly remembers her boyfriend's actor has had quite the interesting experiences in his line of work~

This is in the universe of the fic "It's Just a Movie" by @theyreonlynoodlesmike, so you should definitely read that first (this takes place a little into chapter 12)! I originally planned this to be just for Dwayne, but ended up doing something for all four boys. This one is 3 chapters, but the other ones will be 1 chapter each.

WARNINGS: Nsfw/Smut/18+ Readers Only, Flirting, Dirty Thoughts

Next Chapter

When you had first gotten settled into your crazy new life in the world of The Lost Boys and the city of Santa Carla, your new, vampire friends had bombarded you with several questions about the world you came from. Whenever you had some downtime in between decorating your space and planning on rewriting their tragic demise, your boys, particularly Marko and Paul, asked about what the future was like. They wanted to know about special events in history, fashion changes in the upcoming decades, and the new technology that awaited them (considering how they mocked the digital movie ticket on your phone the night you met, that one surprised you the most).

As much as you would have loved to tell them about the future, you had to constantly shut down the conversation. They had to realize that not only could their world end up differently from yours, but if it did end up going the same way, then you couldn’t risk triggering drastic changes to the timeline. When you had asked if the movie Back to the Future existed in this world and they said it did, you made a point of comparing the situation to the one Doc Brown spoke of.

However, you did throw them a bone and say that if the film industry here was the same as your own, then they could expect two sequels from that movie. They were surprisingly delighted to hear that.

After a couple of weeks of getting settled in, you had given in to a few of their minor questions about your world. You were a bit more open about talking about your family and friends and the life that wouldn’t exist for more than 30 years. They were surprisingly good listeners when you fed them those tidbits, no doubt grateful that you gave into them.

One night in particular, you were cuddled up on the couch with Dwayne, now a few days into your relationship with him after sharing that unexpected, yet very sweet first kiss in your room. He had been playing cards with the other three Lost Boys while holding you in his lap when a question was brought up.

“Holy shit, you know what I just realized?” Paul exclaimed, nearly dropping his cards on the cave floor. “If our lives are a movie in your world, that means ACTORS had to play us”.

“Yes, Paul. There are in fact actors instead of vampires playing the roles in the movie” you snorted, amused that it had taken the poor stoner this long to realize this. To your surprise, the other three seemed to perk up as well. To be fair, when they saw their own images on your phone screen, they had just accepted it as themselves, not actors merely pretending to be creatures of the night.

“You gotta tell us about them!” Paul eagerly said, his cards and the game they were playing forgotten. “I gotta know who’s the guy who shares my gorgeous face”.

Before you made a joke about Paul’s vanity, Marko and David nodded and joined in with his request.

“Yeah! I wanna know who plays me! What’s he like?” Marko asked.

“I’ll admit, I’m pretty curious myself. You don’t have to tell us too much, we just want to know the basics,” David agreed. At least he was considerate enough to recognize the limits you had about sharing the future with them.

You wanted to keep your mouth shut about it. They might get jealous of one another for their actors having different ranges of success in their respective careers. Before you could deny them, you felt Dwayne’s warm breath on your skin as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“C’mon, baby” he whispered to you, knowing damn good and well his voice was enough to make you melt. “Just tell us a little bit, please”

Now how could you possibly say no to that?

You ended up telling them as much as you knew about their actors. As you expected, David got laughed at by the others for his actor having the first name “Kiefer”. When Paul commented that it sounded like “reefer”, you confirmed that Kiefer Sutherland said in interviews that he had gotten teased with that nickname as a kid. That only added more to the mocking they threw his way.

What made David’s ego boost again was hearing that his actor had by far the longest list of movie and tv credits out of all of them, making his name the most well-known in Hollywood. As you listed everything from Stand By Me to A Few Good Men to 24, you could see the smugness growing in David’s eyes, no doubt proud of his counterpart for his impressive resume. The others scoffed, saying it wasn’t fair that David’s actor had it so good, especially when you said he had a father who was a famous actor as well.

Paul was very sore that his actor, Brooke McCarter, had such a short list of acting roles for his career. He was even more cranky that the other movie he was most well-known for was about skateboarding.

“That’s Dwayne’s thing, not mine!” he pouted. Your body gently shook from Dwayne chuckling in amusement behind you.

However, that pout went away when you mentioned that Brooke had experience in both modeling and music. You complimented the wonderful singing voice that he had in the bits of song samples you had come across. Paul was practically puffing like a peacock at the idea that his looks and musical skills were just as prominent in your world as it was in their world.

You were so happy to see him so proud that you didn’t have the heart to tell him that Brooke had unfortunately passed away from his liver disease. You remembered how heartbroken you were when you learned the news and how much all of his fans, friends and family must have been hurting as well. All you said was that his actor was a kind man who was a dear friend to everyone in the movie production and a good father to his daughter. It was all he needed to know.

You were definitely excited to tell Marko about his actor next. Along with being a big fan of The Lost Boys, you also adored the Bill & Ted movies. You gushed to him about Alex Winter’s comedy skills and how even after several decades the most recent movie in the franchise was amazing (and you would fight anyone who said otherwise). He smiled as you explained the cultural impact, and even asked him to repeat the iconic “be excellent to each other” line the same way Bill S. Preston, Esq. would say it. When he humored you and did so, you were practically squealing with delight.

Marko was pleasantly surprised when you mentioned Alex’s experience in both Broadway and directing. He was impressed when you listed off the more serious work he created, but when you gave a taste of the fun and insanity from his movie Freaked, that really put a smile on his face. Glancing at Paul as you explained the wacky plot you could tell he was wishing it was real in their world so that he could watch it while stoned out of his mind.

Overall, everyone was satisfied with the answers you were giving them, and you in turn felt pretty good about giving them some information about the world you came from. It felt like you were bonding with them more, sharing the things that brought joy to you and what made your boys the way they were in their movie.

Behind you, Dwayne adjusted your position so that you were seated on the couch next to him instead of on his lap. He held your hand in his own, the cool temperature clashing beautifully with your human warmth. That same eagerness the others had was prominent on his face as well.

“What about my actor? What’s he done?”

You were ready to go on your tangent, you really were. After seeing everyone else so happy, you were on a roll with sharing the work of their actors. However, when Dwayne asked his innocent question, you only then realized something important.

His actor was Billy Wirth, and you now remembered that Mr. Wirth had a surprisingly large amount of sexual roles in experience.

Your brain was short-circuiting as you mentally went down the list of roles you had seen in his filmography on Wikipedia back in your world. Desperately, you had to think of something that wouldn’t make you start blushing at the mere mention.

It didn’t help your situation that Billy’s first movie role in Seven Minutes in Heaven was as a flirtatious baseball player that stole cotton candy out of the mouth of a girl he didn’t even know before taking her into a lingerie store. You remembered how quickly your jaw dropped while watching that movie when he unsnapped a mannequin’s bra with just one hand.

Next!

Right after The Lost Boys, he had used his partial indigenous heritage to play the main role in the movie War Party. As much as you wanted to bring light to that one, all you could think of was how gorgeous he had looked without a shirt while riding a horse in some of the scenes. At least in this world, he had his jacket on to keep you from going positively braindead.

Next!!

You were a big fan of the show Tales from The Crypt, and you could talk a mile a minute about all the famous actors that had made cameos in each episode. However, you weren’t ready to explain the fact that Billy’s role in his episode involved being a hot lumberjack that got seduced by his boss’ wife before fucking her on one of the beds in the log cabin. Even if other stuff happened in that episode, you’d be skimping out on a lot of the plot if you tried to skip over it.

NEXT!!!

Children of the Dust? His character had a passionate sex scene with a beautiful co-star in a hay pile while asking her to run away with him. Ever since you first watched that you had developed fantasies about being ravaged in a wedding dress. Venus Rising? Might as well call it “Cyber Sex, The Movie”. His episode on Charmed? God, you swooned every time you heard the line “If it pleases you to look, then look~” while seeing Billy stand proudly in tight jeans and no shirt. Not to mention the way he had grabbed that one actress from behind and told her to defend herself really did things to you.

By the time you thought about the most sexual role of all on his list, Red Shoe Diaries, you truly realized how royally fucked you were in this situation. Out of all the hot vampire guys to make a move on you, why did it have to be the one whose actor had the most risqué roles?? Even if all the other actors had varying degrees of experience with sex scenes in movies, you couldn’t deny that Billy Wirth’s stood out to you the most.

“HA! She can’t think of anything! Looks like you got the short end of the stick, Dwayne!” Marko teased his friend. It was only then that you snapped out of your trance, seeing the worried expression on your boyfriend’s face now. Fuck, he probably thought your silence meant you couldn’t think of any other acting roles at all. You had to stop the others from mocking him even further.

“No no! I’m sorry, I zoned out for a second!” you profusely apologized. God, that look on Dwayne’s face made you feel awful. “Your actor’s name is Billy Wirth, and I promise you, he’s been in plenty of stuff!”

You managed to calm your nerves and your lady bits enough to list off some of the more innocent roles he was known for. You stuck with roles from the 21st century, explaining all of the cameos his actor had in popular tv shows. To add some more notes to the list, you mentioned how Billy Wirth was also into directing independent films as well. When Dwayne still seemed skeptical, you went off on a tangent about how his actor and Paul’s had met through the same modeling agency and he had his own impressive career in that field.

As long as you didn’t think TOO much about all those gorgeous pictures of Billy Wirth’s photo sessions, you’d be fine.

Finally, he seemed happy with your explanation and you mentally patted yourself on the back for pulling all that stuff out without getting flustered. If you had ended up blushing at the thought of Dwayne’s actor passionately kissing and touching one of his female co-stars, you would NEVER hear the end of it from David and the terror twins.

“He sounds like a cool guy. I’m glad to have someone like that play me” Dwayne said. His gentle smile helped put you at ease. Finally, you could stop worrying about the situation. You ended up moving the conversation to tell the boys fun facts about The Lost Boys movie and the process that went into filming it.

It was all in good fun until David politely, yet firmly reminded you that the sun would be rising in just a few, short minutes. Sure enough, when you glanced out of the main entrance to the cave, you saw how dangerously light the sky was getting. Time really did fly when you were having fun.

Each one of the boys bid you farewell for the day, thanking you for telling them about the lives of their actors from your world. David headed to their dark section of the cave first, still carrying himself in a smug way from all the roles you told him about. Marko and Paul followed him and you could hear them whispering about becoming models in their own world as well. You chuckled to yourself, wondering how they planned to do it with such limited time they were available in the day. No sunny photoshoots at the beach for them.

When it was just you and Dwayne, you felt your heartbeat speed up. As he reached to cup his hand against your cheek, you couldn’t help but feel like he was reading the look on your face a little too closely. Trying to figure out the real reason you had that moment of silence when he asked about his actor. You feigned innocence, simply smiling at him in a loving manner before leaning in for your farewell kiss.

“Sweet dreams, honey,” you told him before slipping from his touch and making a beeline for your room. If he was about to question your hesitation from earlier, you were gonna get the hell out of there before he got a single word in. Thankfully, as you slipped past the curtain by your room entrance, you heard the sound of footsteps making their way out of the main room and into the sleeping area with the others.

As the sunshine crept into the cave, you got settled into your bed, ready to just relax and enjoy some rest before the next night came. You snuggled into a nearby pillow, breathing in the scent of Dwayne left from the times he laid down here with you. Unfortunately, that proved to be a bad move, because now you were thinking about Dwayne in bed with you doing other things besides sleeping. When you finally felt yourself drifting off to sleep, dirty images of Dwayne filled your head, ready to give you dreams that were more than just sweet~

Goddamn Billy Wirth and his stupid, sexy body.

Tag List: @britany1997 @6lostgirl6 @american-idiot-jpg @herthinkersmanana

#the lost boys #tlb #dwayne the lost boys #dwayne x reader #ao3 fic #my fic

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twoidiotwriters1 · 6 months

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Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Yes it took 30 chapters but most times it takes BOOKS, only veterans know how much I'm spoiling you with Leara -Danny Words: 2,401 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'this is what falling in love feels like' -by Marina Lin

XXXI: In My Defense, I Was Left Unsupervised

After our fiasco with the bronze dragon, Percy gets a date with Annabeth, and Beck gets one with Silena, so they win in the end. Wonderful.

Since Lily's never going to ask Connor and Connor's never going to ask Lily, Travis and I make sure that they end up sitting together anyway. Travis shares his blanket with Katie and I'm sharing mine with... no one. But I'm content this way.

Lily and Connor look at us with panic without realizing that the other is doing the same. "Good job, Birdy!" Travis murmurs as he walks past me. We high-five.

A couple of minutes before the fireworks start, everyone is in their place looking happy. Except me. I had to give up my dragon, it doesn't seem fair. I could bring him back to normal, I just hope Beck keeps his promise.

"Hi," Michael sits down beside me, I move so he can fit better. "I heard you had a crazy adventure as soon I left you unsupervised."

"Yeah, yeah," I sigh. "I could've gotten someone hurt, I was foolish..."

"I want to know if you're okay," he frowns. "I'm not always a jerk, Ara."

"Sorry—it's just... if I don't go back for it, the myrmekes will take it. And you wanna know the worst part? Percy, Annabeth, Charles, and Silena are acting like it doesn't matter!"

Mike laughs. "They can't help it, bug. Love makes you stupid."

"Have you ever fallen in love?

I realize too late I don't want to hear his answer, but Mike responds to my question right away.

"Nah," he rubs the back of his neck and scrunches up his nose. "I'm always thinking about you and your training, leaves me no time for romance."

"What?" I yelp. "Are you saying it's my fault you're single?"

"No!" Mike laughs again, hugging me sideways. A green glow coats his skin. "Look, crushes are weird, but one day you'll understand. You know, it's odd that it hasn't happened yet—you're a weird Aphrodite... a good weird, though."

Our soul lights don't match, but I'm sure I like him, so I'm confused. Am I wrong for feeling this way about him? Maybe. I never cared much about romance until now. Love is one of the best things in the world, obviously, but falling in love? It makes you witless... And yet, I'm looking at Michael like he's the nicest sunset I've ever seen.

I get this feeling that just screams "To Hades with it!" and I give my friend a fleeting peck on the lips. Mike's face turns bright red and I look away, feeling like you could boil an egg over my cheeks.

After a long moment of silence, I gather enough courage and glance at Michael: he's looking at the fireworks with a dreamy smile on his face.

"Ara..." He speaks after a minute.

I answer quietly, trying not to flinch. "Yes?"

"Happy Birthday."

He plants a kiss on my temple and places one arm around my shoulders. I forget all the bad things happening around us. I'm blissfully happy, and fourteen years old.

Before she can celebrate Lily's birthday, Ara has to make sure everything's under control. She tells Jason to gather the Hephaestus kids so they can stabilize the engine, then look for Chiron so he can take away the crazy nymphs.

The girl is thinking of leaving when Jake lets her know Leo is awake. She blushes so much that Jake thinks she's coming down with some kind of fever, but she lies saying Hephaestus's blessing is draining her.

Ara's no coward... but she is a coward. She stays away from Leo, he's too tired to be looking for her anyway. Chiron and Argus arrive a few minutes later to take away the cage Leo built.

"Oh, them again," the centaur scowls. "Hello, Babette."

"We will destroy you! We will dance with you, feed you yummy appetizers, party with you until the wee hours, and rip you to pieces!"

"Uh-huh," Chiron turns to Ara and her friends. "Well done, you four. The last time these girls came looking for Dionysus, they caused quite a nuisance. You caught them before they could get out of hand. Dionysus will be pleased they've been captured."

"So they do annoy him?" Leo asks.

"Absolutely. Mr. D despises his fan club almost as much as he despises demigods."

"We are not a fan club! We are his followers, his chosen, his special ones!"

"Uh-huh."

"So... Dionysus wouldn't have minded if we had to destroy them?" Piper asks.

"Oh, no, he would mind! They're still his followers, even if he hates them. If you hurt them, Dionysus would be forced to drive you insane or kill you. Probably both. So well done. Same plan as last time?"

Argus nods and signals a camper to get closer with a forklift, so they can carry the cage away.

"What will you do with them?" Jason asks.

"We'll send them to a place where they feel at home. We'll load them on a bus to Atlantic City."

"Doesn't that place have enough problems?"

"Not to worry. The Maenads will get the partying out of their systems very quickly. They'll wear themselves out and fade away until next year. They always seem to show up around the holidays. Quite annoying."

Ara may be imagining things, but Leo seems to be getting closer every time she gets distracted. She turns around as Chiron and Argus walk away, barely reaching the entrance when a hand wraps around her wrist and stops her.

"You know," Leo says, "sometimes I hallucinate when I'm sleep-deprived, but I'm pretty sure you kissed me right before I fainted."

Ara scowls at the hand that's holding her in place. "Can we talk outside?"

"Only if you promise not to run away while I'm not looking."

"I promise."

Lily Saggio runs into them. Travis and Connor are right behind her.

"What the Tartarus happened?! You were supposed to just take a walk!"

"I took a walk," Ara replies calmly. "I also ran a bit."

Lily raises a brow. Leo moves his hand away from Ara's wrist fearing Lily will cut it off. "Are you really okay, Ara?"

"Yeah," she replies, trying to look as relaxed as possible.

"We can still celebrate, then?"

Ara glances at Leo, but she nods. "Right. Yes."

She joins her friends and waves at Leo, their eyes linger on each other before Ara turns and follows Lily back to camp. "So... talking in percentages," Lily continues once it's safe. "How much of your delay was Valdez's fault?"

Ara rolls her eyes. "I'd say maybe five percent. We would've finished in less than an hour if the nymphs hadn't shown up..."

"What were you doing?"

Ara knows Leo can't manage Lily's distrust, she's not the best at making people feel good after they've made a mistake under her watchful eye. "The nymphs stole the syncopators, we had to trap them to get them back," Ara lies. "Pollo was a great help. Where is he?"

"Nico took him away," Connor explains. "To feed him."

"And who told him he's allowed to take Pollo just like that?"

"Stop it, Ara," Lily scolds her. "He gave back your T-Rex."

Ara mumbles a couple of insults but she gives in. She considers telling Lily about the kiss, but she needs to clear things up with Leo first, this cannot be another Mike situation.

Lily's birthdays are always fun. It's the one night they're allowed to stay up way after curfew. Ara's got no curfew nowadays, but she still goes to bed at the same time as the others... most days, anyway.

The whole time the campfire is taking place, she wishes she could just talk to Leo. Every time she looks at him, he's looking back. Once she's had enough of this stupid longing, she gives Lily one last hug and says goodnight to the rest of the group.

Ara has barely gotten to the porch when she hears someone approaching. The girl immediately starts glowing, and she feels the silly urge to fix her clothes and brush her hair. Leo climbs up the steps with a strange look in his eyes, almost like he's scared. Ara decides to wait for him to reach her and then guides him to the swing at the very end of the porch.

"I just noticed," Leo clears his throat. "You got a haircut."

Ara glows brighter. "Yeah, cut it to shoulder length so it's easier to handle."

"Makes you look taller," he sits down next to her. "So... call me crazy, but when someone rejects you—"

"I didn't reject you."

"Oh, my bad," Leo replies sarcastically. "That's obviously the key to our misunderstanding."

Ara sighs. "I should explain..."

"Por favor y gracias," he leans back on the swing.

"I got Hephaestus's blessing thanks to you," Ara has to be brave, her mothers would hate it if she threw away her chance to be happy. "I felt like kissing you, so I did it. It was wrong."

Leo's soul light goes out instantly. "What?"

"That's not how I wanted it to happen," Ara makes a face. "I always act on impulse. I hate it."

"What are you—"

"I like you, okay? And I..." Ara blushes. "Oh gods, should I be telling you this? You're confused and I don't want you to—"

"If I ask you out right now, will you say yes?" He interrupts her, his gaze eager and attentive.

"Leo, that's not the point. You don't understand—I... I don't..." she covers her face in mortification. "I don't like what love does to me."

He gently places a hand on her knee. "I know you've had a... rough life, to put it lightly. But I'm not going to hurt you..." He pauses. "That's what scares you, right?"

Ara shakes my head, still not looking up. "It's the other way around. Being excellent at what I've decided to do doesn't come naturally to me—I thought it would get easier with time, but the challenges keep growing... and this is just another thing I'll fail to do properly."

The Fates know that if there is someone on Earth who's done his best to stay away from people, that's Leo, but he can't do that with Ara. It's like a loose screw that he keeps turning, thinking it'll eventually slip out, but it's only tightening more in place.

"So what if you can't be perfect at it?" It annoys him that a person as loving as her can't get any comfort in life, he wants to make it better. "It doesn't mean you can't have it with someone who truly cares about you."

Ara looks up pouting. "You're being so serious it's scary."

"I can be serious when I want to," he smiles a little. "But I could try and make the truth sound funny so it doesn't scare you. I really want you to like me as much as I like you, Ara."

"I like you," she admits bashfully, looking at her feet. "I'm crazy about you... it's so uncomfortable."

"Really?" Leo's heart is pounding on his chest, he's making a huge effort not to set the swing on fire. "Was it my amazing personality?"

"And your eyes," Ara speaks quieter, eyes fixed on her shoes.

"What about my hair?"

"Could look better without all the grease," she teases him.

"Hey!" He pouts. "A good mechanic gets dirty, sorry if that makes me unattractive."

"I never said that," Ara chuckles and looks up at last. One of her hands reaches up and gently brushes his curls back. "Don't put words in my mouth, Valdez."

Leo leans into her palm beaming. Finally, he's on the receiving end of her loving touch.

Ara's gaze fills with worry after a second. "I really don't know what I'm doing most of the time, Leo. I'm not being humble."

"And what makes you think I've got a clue?" He raises a brow. "I just got here half a month ago... by comparison, you're pretty much the high-level expert."

"And yet it feels like you've always been around," she hums, cupping his cheek. "You won't take a no for an answer, right?"

Her voice has an encouraging tone, like she wants him to reject this idea... So he does. "Sorry, doll, I'm irritating like that." He shows her a crooked smile. "But if you say yes, I promise I'll wash up for our date."

"You gotta shower for all of our dates, not just the first," she replies. In Ara's eyes, they're like two little suns illuminating the porch.

"I'd be stupid if I didn't," Leo smirks. "Gotta keep my girl happy."

His girl, he says, like it's all settled. Maybe it is. Ara has zero practice, but Leo makes it easy. He gives her the biggest butterflies she's ever felt, everything is telling her to keep him, so why not? Maybe he's the person she's been looking for her whole life.

Perhaps the boy moves first, perhaps it's her, but their noses are touching now. "Leo..." she stops. "Leo!"

"Hmm?"

"You're on fire."

"Thanks, doll," Leo grins, still leaning forward.

Ara moves away. "You're scorching the swing."

"Dang it!" The boy gets up and kills the flames. "It's all the stress from today—gets harder to control..."

Ara stands up with her hands behind her back. "Yeah, that's the only reason."

It's getting late and the campers will leave the campfire soon, so their moment is over. "I'm sorry, I'll try not to set us on fire next time."

Ara nods and slowly makes her way to the house's front door. "But if you do... the blessing keeps me safe from accidental burns, so that's lucky, right?"

"Man, gotta love my dad," he pauses and scowls. "But not for real. I mean—"

Ara laughs. Leo's starting to love the sound of it. "I get it."

The boy stops on the porch's steps and looks back at her. "So... I'd love to take you on a date."

"Tomorrow after dinner. Don't be late and take a shower."

"I did that already," he tugs on his shirt. "This is barely two days old."

Ara holds back her laugh and wrinkles her nose. "You're disgusting. I'm taking it back, I don't—"

Leo runs down the old steps. "Too late! You can't cancel if I can't hear you!"

The girl watches him run away, giggling at his antics. Ara can feel her anxiety gather in the pit of her stomach, and that irksome voice at the back of her mind asks "Are you sure?" and "Remember Mike?" but she ignores it.

This is different, Leo's soul light matches hers. They're meant to be together, and that's all she needs to know.

Ara enters her room and finds her T-Rex tucked into bed with a pacifier tied to its claw. She gets under the covers, hugging the dino close to her chest, and listens to her own heartbeat thumping against the plushie.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackson and the olympians #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #doo

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psalm22-6 · 1 year

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The Gamin of Paris, an early example of a Les Miserables fix-it fic

I came across Gavroche: The Gamin of Paris by reading a review from 1872 (the year it was published), a review which made me say what the hell?? On the Wikipedia page for Les Miserables Adaptations, Gavroche is listed first among the literary adaptations, with no indication of how wild the review lead me to believe it would be. So I bought a copy off Ebay and read it, which brought me immense amusement and equal parts terror. Now I know we are all used to adaptations of Les Miserables which diverge from the original but I think it's fair to say that this goes beyond adaptation so please enjoy my summary (and below the cut I will put some notes about the author, the publisher, etc.) The story begins with Gavroche hiding in the bushes at the house of an unnamed old man and his companion Mere Plutarque Mary Anne. From his vantage point, Gavroche sees Montparnasse attempt to rob an old passerby. Yes, Montparnasse has a rose in his mouth and yes he is dressed to the nines. The man gives Montparnasse his purse and a sermon: Hugo’s original rant was 1,118 words, but while this lecture is considerably paired down, the impact…well, as you will see the impact is far greater. When Gavroche later encounters Montparnasse, the young man says of the experience: “Such a sermon – my faith! It has nearly spoiled my taste for business ever since. If you’ll believe me Gavroche, I have some thoughts of turning honest man.” When Gavroche steals the purse from Montparnasse to give to Mary Anne, the author remarks: “He was rewarded not not [sic] an hour after, by a sixpence given him by a gentleman, whose hat he rescued from a gutter.” We learn that Gavroche’s mother, Mother Jondrette, has sold her two youngest sons to a woman named Magnon Manon. This Manon (besides being a criminal) is a nurse who bought the boys to replace two boys who died in her care. She then loses the two adopted boys. One day, while Gavroche is contemplating theft (“we regret to say”), he encounters the two lost children and decides to care for them. Gavroche asks them their names.

“My name is Adolphe, sir,” said the elder boy; “his,” pointing to his brother, “is Gustav.” “What fine names!” said Gavroche with a shrug, “fit for a crown prince! Well, I shall call you Dolph and Gus.”

Time passes and Gavroche cares for the boys. Things began to look up for him.

Gavroche, with the cares of a family on his hands, found, as it happened – or rather as Providence so ordered – that his condition was no worse but better than before. The scanty food, picked up by chance, as the crumbs and berries of sparrows are, proved more nearly enough for three than it had been for one. Perhaps this was because his new sense of responsibility awoke in him a desire for employment which he had never felt before. All he knew was, that errands fell in his way in a marvelous manner.

Now, by some narrative maneuvering owing to the fact that Gavroche is the main character of this story, events are a bit out of the familiar order and the Gorbeau House ambush arrives 30 chapters later than it would have in the original table of contents. On the night of the ambush (and not after) Gavroche goes to see his parents, whereupon he overhears Montparnasse and Brujon speaking:

“How soon will the crib be ready?” asked Montparnasse. “Not for an hour yet,” answered the other, a thickset man with a harsh, croaking voice. “It is only to pluck a pigeon?” “We may have to pinch it a little to make it sing,” answered the other; sinister words which Gavroche well understood. Montparnasse moved uneasily. “Do you need me, Brujon?” he asked. “Not if you are so flush of jobs as not to want a finger in this one,” answered the other, laughing. “There will be enough to share without you.” “I will be your watch,” said Montparnasse. “You’ll need one.” “Eponine is on the watch,” said Brujon. “You can keep her company instead of blacking your pretty face.”

It appears Montparnasse can no longer stomach violent crime. Surmising that his family is involved in what is about to take place, Gavroche sneaks into the house and hides in the neighbor’s room. The neighbor is a “poor student” who is not important and not at home. Looking through a hole in the wall, Gavorche recognizes that the man his father is targetting is the same man who delivered the sermon to Montparnasse. The man, named Jean Valjean, knows Jondrette as “Fabantou” “Faber” and Valjean himself is living under the alias “Leblanc” (I guess “Fauchelevent” was too much for the young American reader.) Jondrette offers to sell Leblanc a painting, “on which were painted some coarse figures, no doubt a sign-board from some tavern,” but that is not important to the plot. Jondrette reveals that he knows Leblanc is Valjean:

“You remember me now, I see, the man whom you robbed of the child who was a fortune to him – the boy for whose keep I received a sum which sufficed to maintain my family. You are the rogue who sneaked and spied upon me, who complained of me in the courts for ill-treatment of the child, offering to take charge of him yourself till the return of his parents, and getting me three months in prison which were the beginning of my downfall!”

You may be wondering who is this boy? He is also not important to the plot. Gavroche wants to help Valjean but does not want to go to the police or betray his family. (In some sentences the name “Marius” is here just replaced with “Gavorche.”) Jondrette demands money from Valjean and proposes to dictate a letter to him:

“What shall I write?” asked the prisoner. “You have a steward?” asked Jondrette. “Yes.” “What is his name?” “Simon.”

Simon is not important either, I just thought I would mention him. Valjean jumps up and seizes a red-hot chisel from the fire, saying:

“The money you demand I could not give you, and if I could, what is held in trust for the unfortunate should not be wasted on the wicked to save my life. It is in your hands. Then take it.”

Valjean throws the chisel out an open window. (There is no Azelma so the window was not broken.) Gavroche has the idea to write a note saying “the beaks are coming” and throws it into the room, causing the assailants to flee through the window. Jondrette says invokes the rule of ladies first and they do NOT fight over who gets out first. Gavroche frees Valjean (“This is one of Brujon’s knots but whatever he can tie I can untie”) and introduces himself as “Little Gavroche.” Valjean tells Gavroche to come home with him but Gavroche says he must get back to Adolphe and Gustav. The Jondrette parents are soon arrested and Eponine is taken to “the House of Refuge” but “the police not being omniscient, they could hardly have known of the attempted robbery in the Jondrette garret, as no information was furnished them by the old man who had so nearly been its victim.” Their arrest is due to some unrelated, unmentioned crime. Gavroche encounters Montparnasse again and Montparnasse enlists him to help break Jondrette out of prison and, as in the original, the father does not even recognize his son. Meanwhile, the boys are still around, getting up to quirky adventures such as this one recounted by Adolphe:

“We went down to the wharves, but they shoved us about so that I was afraid Gustav would get hurt, and was just going to take him away, when only think, a great Englishman who was there stumbled against us, and almost knocked Gustav into the water, so that I cried out quite loud, and then he boxed my ears for bringing Gustav there, and then he gave me a sixpence.”

Now it is time for an insurrection. Why? The author declines to state. It is noted that “no matter how quiet and prosperous the times may appear to be,” revolution may spark at any time and that, besides those with good intentions, there are also “the desperate, the discontented, the criminal, ignoble souls who hope for disorders which offer a chance to plunder.” The author asserts that the majority of people “denounce all disturbances equally, whether their cause be a just or an unjust one. To them all insurrection is the revolt of the dog against the master, worthy to be punished with the whip and the chain: but when the revolutionary effort is successful, when the dog shows itself a lion, they throw up their caps and shout 'Long live the people.' ” (It can be hard to figure out which lines are the author’s own invention and which come from Hugo. This bit about dismissing revolutionaries as dogs was originally applied to the bourgeoisie, not “the great body of citizens.”)

Insurrectionists build a barricade in the Rue St. Denis, before the tavern of Mother Houcheloup Hourdeloup. The insurrectionists are led by a man named Marius (this Marius bears no resemblance whatsoever to Marius Marius and I have to believe that “Enjolras” was simply deemed too hard to pronounce). Marius has two lieutenants, Joly and Combeferre Comberre. Gavroche decides to join them. He has lost his way since he became separated from Adolphe and Gustave some time ago. He had tried to distract himself “with such amusements as he could find, but often, even in the best contested game of hop-scotch or pitch-and-toss, he would stop and mutter gloomily, ‘But where the deuce can my two children be?’ ” Gavroche asks Marius for a gun since he had one “thirty years ago” in the “last revolution.” He also requisitions a cart for the French Rebuplic and runs into the National Guard (this is just happening a bit out of order but that is to be expected). Meanwhile, in the Luxembourg gardens, “Dolphy” and Gustav are eating soggy cake when suddenly an old man appears and offers them a whole non-soggy cake. The man is, of course, Jean Valjean, and, through speaking to the boys, they realize that they are all looking for Gavroche. “Surely, in meeting them, Providence gives me a sign that I shall find the lad I sought for in vain thus far, and pay the debt I owe him,” thinks Valjean. He takes the boys to his home and sits outside, wondering what to do. “A republican himself in his convictions, he had no thought of joining in this revolt, which he believed to be ill-timed and absolutely in vain.” Then, who should walk by breaking lamps for the Republic but Gavroche? Valjean attempts to convince Gavroche not to return to the barricades, but when that fails, he puts on his National Guard uniform and goes after him. The insurrectionists know that no one is coming to join them and have resolved to die for their cause. When Valjean arrives, Gavroche vouches for him. Then, during the first attack, Gavroche threatens to blow up the barricade with a powder keg! Again Valjean tries to convince Gavroche to leave, this time telling him that Adolphe and Gustav are at the house, but Gavroche again declines. He goes out to collect cartridges singing:

I am merry, I am free, That’s because my money’s spent; All my clothes in rags you see, That’s the fault of the Government. Not a penny can I give, That’s because my money’s spent; Like a little bird I live, That’s the fault of the Government. I am done for, I suppose, That’s because my money’s spent; In the gutter goes my nose, That’s the fault of the –

He collapses, unable to finish the last verse after having been shot. “Unheeding the rain of bullets that fell about him,” Valjean retrieves his body while Comberre gets the cartridges. However, the barricade is quickly attacked again and Marius, Joly, and Comberre are all killed. Valjean escapes with Gavroche. In the sewers, Valjean is “guided by chance, or rather, as he himself felt, led by the providence of God” and strengthened by the “miraculous gift [of] God.” He encounters a group of policemen. The police are not there searching for insurgents. They are “making their half-yearly inspection of the sewers; for in spite of the insurrection, the wheels of government still ran on in the old grooves.” Valjean goes unnoticed. Finally, Valjean reaches a locked grate and encounters a man who offers to let him out for a price:

He saw standing beside him a man dressed in a style more suited for the streets of Paris than for this den of the sewers. . . At sight of that dandified well-fitting black coat, and the youthful handsome face of its wearer, the old man had not a moment’s hesitation in recognizing him. It was Montparnasse. . .He looked at the young man with strange feelings. He felt that [Montparnasse] was as truly sent by Providence to his aid, and to save the life of Little Gavroche, as if he had been a shining angel instead of a bandit, who had taken refuge in the sewer; and that he too was sent to Montparnasse to save him from something worse than death itself.

Montparnasse does not recognize Valjean or Gavroche but, pressuring that the old man has killed the young one in order to rob him, Montparnasse proposes to split the profits. Valjean agrees, on the condition that Montparnasse will receive his share when they arrive “at a better place where we can look over the papers together.” Montparnasse agrees. Montparnasse is slightly surprised to see that Valjean’s victim is a child but it doesn’t bother him much. He even offers to help Valjean sink the body in the Seine but the old man explains that they need the body in order to obtain their reward. At Valjean’s house on the rue St. Antoine, Montparnasse is terrified when he realizes that the child is Gavroche and confused when he recognizes Valjean. Valjean explains that he is an escaped galley-slave, an inventor, and a manufacturer.

“And why, Monsieur Galley-slave, have you murdered this helpless child? Not for booty, assuredly, for the poor little gamin never owned a penny but to share it. Even wolves would not tear wolves’ cubs for sport.” “Young man. . .I have not murdered but saved this child. I did not give him wounds, but bound them. Once long ago my hand was reddened with blood shed by an angry blow. That was my crime, bitterly repented and expiated through long years. . . Help me, my son, to draw this boy from the edge of the pit into which he is sliding. Here is your share of the riches I promised you should be gained by this night’s work.”

Gavroche wakes up weeks later, and finds that noxious Paris has been replaced with “a quiet seaside village on the northern coast, called Clairvue.” Upon seeing Valjean, Gavroche believes that the old man has also died and that they are both in heaven, but he is confused to see Adolphe and Gustav there too. Slowly, as he is nursed back to health by a woman named old Jeannette, he realizes that he is not dead. The boys tell Gavroche that when he is better, he can play with them by “the great water.”

“What do you mean by the great water?” said Gavroche. “Is it the river Seine?” “O, no, it is the real ocean!” cried Adolphe.

“Mother Street” has been replaced by “Mother Ocean.” Valjean sends the boys away before they can say more. Only when Gavroche has had more time to recover does Valjean allow Gavroche another visitor:

A handsome jaunty young sailor appeared at the door, and, approaching, disclosed the face and form of Montparnasse. . . “My faith! You look like a fancy picture of a sailor lad!” “Don’t you like it, Gavroche? Isn’t it becoming?” asked Montparnasse with a well-satisfied smile, turning himself round for inspection like a young girl with her first ball-dress. “I think so,” answered Gavroche emphatically. “The blue shirt beats the black swallowtail to nothing. The girls will look at you and make you more conceited than ever, Montparnasse.” Gavroche was right. Nothing was ever so becoming to the handsome face and slim alert figure of Montparnasse, as the blue shirt, opening to show his round young throat, the knotted silk neckerchief, the wide white trousers, and the Panama hat with its broad ribbon, which replaced the tight-fitting black suit in which the dandy of the bandits had rejoiced.

It is revealed that Valjean, knowing that Montparnasse’s “weakness,” “vanity,” and “love of admiration” had been the driving causes of his criminality, purchased for him a sailor’s uniform and, knowing that Montparnasse would be “followed with glances of sincere and open admiration from the pretty fisher-girls of Clairvue,” had decided to make Montparnasse into a sailor. Valjean “smoothed away all difficulties” for Montparnasse by purchasing a ship and instating Montparnasse as overseer, rather than as a common sailor. Also, Valjean legally adopted Montparnasse and the other sailors, “receiving Montparnasse as the son of the liberal owner of their vessel, were careful to make the first trials of his new profession as pleasant and as little arduous as possible.” Away from the “evil associates of his Parisian life” the “gentleness and goodness in Montparnasse’s heart were awakened.” He even took on a new name: Victor Leblanc. Valjean, of course, considered himself to be the father of all four boys, remarking “I shall have four brave sons now, in place of my lonely old age. God is very good to us, my children.” In Valjean, Gavroche “found father, mother, kindred, all in one.”

All was well, until one day Victor encounters a ghost from his past: Manon, who was in Clairvue, en-route to England, in the guise of a lady’s maid. Manon attempts to lead Victor back into a life of crime but Victor refuses. However, he does learn a few things from her.

“Your sister Eponine is dead, Gavroche. She died of consumption in the Hospital of Saint Sadelon.” “Poor Eponine,” said Gavroche seriously, but not deeply grieved for the sister he had scarcely known. “She was always sickly. The hospital was at least a better place to die than the street.”

Victor also realizes through his conversation with Manon that Adolphe and Gustav – originally named “Jean” and “George” and lost to her while she was “satisfying the police” – are the children of Jondrette and the biological brothers of Gavroche.

[Valjean] bowed his head. Prayerfully he felt that Providence had committed to his care the sons of his deadly enemy, that he might be a father to the worse than fatherless. . . “My own brothers!” [said Gavroche.] And then, after a pause – “But, father, they were my brothers a truly before, since we are all your children.”

Together the family walks off to look at the sunset, which was “as clear and calm as that which was closing the storm and struggle of Jean Valjean’s life.” The End.

This post is already so long that adding a read more seems ridiculous but whatever. Note about the author: Gavroche: The Gamin of Paris was “translated and adapted by” M.C. Pyle aka Margaret Churchman Pyle. Margaret was the mother of the famous children’s book illustrator Howard Pyle and of the prolific but lesser know children’s book writer, Katherine Pyle. The Pyle family was one of Wilmington Pennsylvania’s old Quaker families (side note: although Howard didn’t ever illustrate a scene from Les Miserables as far as I am aware, he was a great influence on Mead Schaeffer who did).

Note about the publisher: Porter & Coates, located in Philadelphia, published over 100 children’s books. Their popular Alta Edition series (to which most copies of "Gavroche" for sale today belong) consisted of reprints and was published between the 1880s and 1890s. (Whereas the original Gavroche was printed in 1872 but I’ve only seen one photograph online of what I believe to be a first edition.) Pyle's other book, published around the same time and through Porter & Coates, was called Minna in Wonderland and could generously be called an "alternative" to Alice in Wonderland. The same is true of Gavroche. Note on Margaret's translation: I did not compare Pyle's story line by line to the original text but for the most part (for the parts which were actually from the text) her translation seemed fairly true, though obviously heavily abridged and simplified for her readers. I liked her choice of English slang equivalents, which I compared to those used in the Wilbour translation (the translation I assume she would have had at her disposal). Wilbour mostly left the argot untranslated, whereas I thought Pyle's word choice was readable and fun. I also liked Pyle's choices for Gavroche's songs. At least one song is a traditional English language folk song, while others seem to be Pyle's invention, rather than attempted translation. Here they are:

[After his parents are arrested] I’m a jolly stroller boy, Bold and free, bold and free. Now an orphan I must roam, Since my folks are all from home. I can bear it till they come Back to me, back to me. [On his way to join the insurrection] Louis Philippe will lose his sheep, And never again shall find them; The people of France will make an advance, And leave their King behind them. [While scouting out the National Guard and stealing a cart, #236 in the Roud Folk Songs index] Let’s go to the woods, said Robin to Bobbin; What will we do there? Said Bobbin to Robin; We’ll shoot at a wren, said Robin to Bobbin, ‘Tis the best of all four-footed game. [Sung to let the insurrectionists know he is near] Morning is coming, The day dawns clear; Open the door Till my story you hear, In blue uniform And bearskin chapeau The soldiers are coming; Co-co-rico!

#les miserables #gavroche #lm in america #lm inspired #gavroche: the gamin of paris

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gamerbearmira · 1 year

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(Okay, I legit can't remember if I've sent this or not, so if this is a repeat, feel free to delete. Anyway, have some more de-aged triplets stuff!)

Fun sibling squabbles when your four-year-olds have adult memories:

“Mamí, Juli says her hija is taller than my hija!!”

“…but Luisa is taller than Dolores.”

“No fair!”

The girls are now in a fight over who has the best offspring. Alma puts them in time-out. Later, Bruno comes to her in distress, saying that while the girls were in time-out, they remembered he didn't have any hijos and felt bad and told him he could share theirs and he's not ready to be a papí yet!

---

Isa gonna do some flower hair braiding. Triplets are interested.

Pepa: “Me first!”

Julieta: “No, she's my hija! I'm first!”

Pepa: “Tía Isa, do mine!”

Julieta: “No!”

Pepa: “Mamí! Juli won't share!”

Alma, pinching the bridge of her nose: “Girls…”

Isabela: “Actually, how about I do Brunito first because he's not yelling?”

Girls: “Awww…!”

Bruno: :D

End result: Bruno asking her to braid sage into his hair and Isabela does her best to make it look good. Alma sits next to her, braiding flowers into Pepa's hair. And Julieta standing on the sofa, picking flowers from the pile and putting them in Alma’s and Isabela’s hair.

---

Alma wakes up to find Pepa climbing into bed with her. Says Félix was snoring. Bruno enters shortly after, saying he’s lonely. And then Julieta joins them because she saw the other two going to Mami’s room and didn't want to be left out. She does not elaborate on why she was out of bed. Alma doesn’t have the heart to send them back to their own rooms and lets them snuggle with her.

---

It becomes obvious that the triplets need a nap in the afternoons, so Alma starts making them take one after lunch. There is much whining to be had. Mirabel asks how Alma managed this the first time around. Alma is like “Fine, you don’t have to take a nap. We will go upstairs and rest and read a story.” She lets them take turns picking which room to sleep in. They always fall asleep in a cuddle puddle. (Also Alma saved their old baby blankets.)

---

The triplets holding hands while walking and getting wrapped around a tree because they won’t let go.

---

Luisa entertaining the triplets by showing them how high she can throw various things. Pepa wants to be thrown, too, so Luisa tosses her up a few feet. Julieta asks to go next, and then they both try to get Bruno to take a turn, but he’s nervous so Luisa tosses him up a much shorter distance. He likes it. They all have a few more turns.

Camilo, watching: “You know, you could probably juggle them.”

Agustin: “Luisa, no!”

Camilo: “Luisa, yes!”

Triplets: “Yeah! Juggle us! Juggle us!”

Luisa: “Uh…”

Alma: “All right, time for bed everyone.”

Mirabel: “But it’s only five thir-”

Alma: “BED.”

YOU HAVE NOT❗ But I still like it. Very cool. And Alma sending them to bed even though it was 5:30 💀 Like nah, we not gonna talk about that, just go to bed <33

#my asks are open #my asks #encanto #encanto au #au #encanto alma #encanto julieta #encanto pepa #encanto Bruno #de aged triplets au

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sugaakookiee · 1 year

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To Theo Sharpe, With Love | two |

Paring: Eloise Bridgerton x Theo Sharpe

Genre: Regency

Word Count: 2.0K

(it's pretty much the same as it was when uploaded before, just edited here and there)

It took longer than Eloise thought to get a reply from Theo. So long that she thought maybe he was no longer working at the print shop and now would never know he felt for her.

Eloise had confidence at the time, but now she felt ridiculous writing down how many times she thought about Theo, which was at least 30 times a day, not that anybody was counting.

Today, the Bridgertons had to prepare to go to a ball hosted by Lady Danbury. Unfortunately for Eloise, she still had to attend because she remained unmarried, along with her sister, Francesca. She was always ecstatic about the things her older sister despised, like the idea of getting married and having children. Frannie was a happy participant in high society; she wanted nothing more than to become a mother, which is encouraged in high society. On the other hand, Eloise wanted nothing to do with what she calls strange rituals, only participating for her mama.

With the help of her maid, Eloise was getting ready for the dreaded ball. All was normal until she heard a knock on her bedroom. Another maid emerged from the other side of the door, "Miss Eloise. A letter for you." The maid said, holding the letter up to her mistress.

"From whom?" She replied, continuing to face her mirror.

"I am not sure, miss. The footman just said it was for you."

She observed the letter, checking for any indications of who wrote her correspondence. It was not long before she noticed the initial T.S. on the corner. She only knew of one person with those exact initials. Theo.

"I require privacy, please." Eloise said to her maid and the maid that brought her the note, "We can continue getting me ready in a few minutes."

The second they leave her room, she almost rips up the paper opening it. Skimming through the words on the page caused her to have a large, loving smile.

"Dear Miss Bridgerton, I apologize for not replying sooner. I need time to think if I should. Our last conversation ended poorly, and I said things I did not mean. I wish to discuss it faces to face. Fortunately for you, I still work at the print shop. My apprenticeship is still not over, so I will be here for a little longer. It must have taken a lot to tell me what you have felt for the past few years. I will gladly write that I have felt the same way. I have stacks of books with your name on them; perhaps one day, you will share your thoughts. You know I always like to hear them. Love is a strong word, Miss Bridgerton, and I will swear in my life that I have felt what others say it is to be in love. Of course, we must reconcile our friendship before having strong feelings for each other. I recall a book with the quote, "Friendships are the most important thing behind a love match."

By chance, if we feel the way we say we do, we should be friends first.

I will be waiting for your arrival, Miss Bridgerton.

Yours Always

Love, Theo Sharpe."

Did he write that he loved her too? Eloise could not believe it, but it was true. She could not help but reread the letter, the butterflies in her stomach increasing.

She soon heard another knock on her door and quickly stuffed the paper in her vanity drawer. "Miss, we need to continue getting you ready." Her maid said from the other side of the door.

"Yes, come in," Eloise said, giving her maid a free pass to enter her room.

After everybody was ready, they boarded the carriages, everybody except the two youngest: Gregory and Hyacinth. Gregory is of age, he was allowed to go, but he did not want to leave his little sister behind. It was not time for Hyacinth to have her first official ball, so she had to stay home. Gregory did not think it was fair for him to have all the fun when his sister was bored in the house.

When Eloise was 18, she dreaded going to balls. Now at 21, nothing had changed. She still hated them but learned to tolerate them.

With mama Violet's urge to marry her daughter off, avoiding dances like she used to has become more challenging. It was worse than she had to hear boring conversation starters. The pressure Eloise felt from the high society she lived in was excruciating, almost as if every eye in the ballroom was watching her. Sometimes she wished nothing but to disappear from the scene. Not long before, the constant streams of dance requests and stares from every corner of the room became too much. Eloise needed out of the ballroom.

On her way out, she walks pasts her mother, "Eloise!" Violet says, surprised, "Get back here. People are watching."

"Not now, mama. I need to get out of here." Eloise says before storming out of the ballroom.

The second she reached fresh air, she started to hyperventilate and tear up. As she got older, these episodes were a common occurrence. The pressure to be perfect got worse as the years went on. She needed to escape somewhere, and she knew exactly where to go.

"John! John, I need you to take me to the print shop." Eloise said, approaching her footman, John.

"Miss Eloise, I do not think it is appropriate for you to leave the dance."

"John, please. I cannot stand being in there, and I need to go. Please? For a good old friend?"

John hated when she used those words on him. She knew that he did anything for the sake of his good old friend. Reluctantly, he agreed to take her to the print shop and boarded her into the carriage before hopping onto the front seat himself.

On the way to the print shop, Eloise, overthinking how their conversation would go, is lost in thought about what she is to say to Theo. She was soon snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the loud rumbling of thunder and saw the fast lighting seeping through the curtains.

"Miss Eloise, it is going to rain. We should turn back." She heard John yell to her from the front seat of the carriage.

"No, keep going!' She says. To Eloise, there was no turning back. She had her mind set on something, and not even the rain detained her from what she wanted to do.

When they reached the print shop, her patience had run so thin that she did not wait for John to open the door for her like she usually would.

"Miss Eloise!" John yelled to get her attention, seeing her running towards the shop. "Go back to the ball without me." she said, "Come back for me later." The second she reached the shop door, she started to knock on the door aggressively.

On the other side of the door was Theo, preparing to lock up the shop before going home, as he offered to so that Mr.Harris could go home early. The knocking startled him and made him wonder who would be outside during rainfall. He was ready to tell whoever was outside they were too late and to come back tomorrow when it stopped raining. The words could not leave his mouth when he saw who was outside. He had not seen her face in over two years, and she was still as beautiful as he remembered.

"Miss Eloise, what are you doing here?" Theo asked her, "You will catch a cold out there." He pulls her into the shop with her gloved hand. This action made her realize that she had forgotten about her fancy attire. However, Theo could not. "Have you run away or something?" He asked as a joke, but she did not laugh, "You have."

"Not exactly. I am going back, but I had to come."

"In the middle of rainfall? No, you should leave. I have to get the footman of yours to get you back home."

"I told him to leave me here. He would be gone by now. I came here to see you."

"It could not wait until tomorrow?"

"No, it could not. I read your letter, and you cannot imagine how relieved I was to find out you were still working here. I hope you excuse my attire; I did run away from a ball." Theo found it strange that Eloise could say that without her thinking it was odd too. "I needed to escape, and you were the first person that came to mind."

"I see that things never changed."

"They have. Things have changed, and it took me a long time to realize that. I thought of you because you are the only one who understands me. You are the only one I can talk to without feeling judged or put down. You have no idea how much I have wanted to have someone like that these past months."

Theo noticed her shivering from the cold rain outside, "You are shivering. Let us warm up so you can tell me all about it. You know I have always wanted to listen to your thoughts." He quickly locked up the shop, then they both escaped to his small house adjacent to it.

Eloise sat by the fireplace to keep her warm, with a thin blanket around her. She was gloveless, and the pins in her hair were gone. She heard the clacking of teacups and saucers behind her. One soon appears in her vision as Theo holds it up for her to take it. However, she does not. She only looks up at him.

"Is there anything you want to comment on, Miss Eloise?" Theo asked in her absence of taking the saucer.

She only shrugs, "I prefer biscuits with my tea."

"Of course." He rolls her eyes at her comment jokingly. She laughs as she takes the saucer he is offering her. Soon after, Theo sits beside Eloise on the floor, "Now, would you like to tell me what has been happening?"

Eloise beamed a small smile before answering, "No eventful things. Just plenty of places I did not want to go. Oh, I found who Lady Whistledown was." She thought he should know, as he was the one who was helping to look for her before they separated.

"You did? Who was it?" He asked.

"My best friend, Penelope. She did it right under my nose, and I did not even know it. She was why I had to end our visits the last time. Forgiving her for it took me a long time, and it was not easy. She made me lose one of the only good things in my life. I never forgave her completely for it, but I figure I do now."

"Why is that?"

Eloise looked Theo in the eyes, quickly panned her eyes to the lower part of his face, then panned back up at his eyes, "Because you are with me now." She takes an opportunity to place her head on the comfort of his shoulder. Of course, he let her.

"What about any new suitors? You must have had some while you were away."

"Please do not get me started on suitors. The amount of proposals I have denied is ridiculous, and not one is worth my time. I ask, "What do you have to offer me?" And they say, "I would be a great father to your future children." As if I want all of that, and what is the point of the diamond ring? I despise diamonds."

Theo chuckles, "You still have not changed a bit."

"Would you rather I am different?"

"No. I enjoy the way that you are." He said.

Silence fills the air for a few minutes. It seemed neither would speak at all, then Eloise broke the silence.

"Theo." She says. He hummed in response. She took a deep breath before speaking again, "I love you."

It was as if time froze then and there. It was the first time Eloise had said those three words to anybody in a long time. She knew Theo wanted to start their friendship again, but she had to tell him. She was not allow that to stop her from speaking her mind.

Theo did not respond for what seemed like an eternity until he did.

"I love you, too, Eloise."

#theloise #theo sharpe #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton #eloise x theo #bridgerton season two

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 2 years

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The Reaper and The Death Angel Snippet 4 - The Charming Gazette

Who doesn't love a bit of world-building?

Series Masterlist

Part 30

Contains: A little it of fluff

895 Words

Comment if you want to be tagged.

From meaningless scuttlebutt to breaking news The Charming Gazette has it all.

Living in a small town meant a small-town newspaper, in this case The Charming Gazette. Run by a mix of fresh out of high school kids who want to be journalists, in the know towns folk and small-time writers and photographers.

For just three dollars a week, the paper could be delivered to your door seven days a week, three-hundred and sixty-five days a year. It wasn't the largest publication, there was a section for the local businesses, another for school sports and obituaries.

Sometimes, they wrote about the Club, Clay was good friends with the head of the paper so it was never bad. Sometimes they wrote about weather events or the change of seasons. There was the occasional huge story, like when the new fish monger was caught selling fake crab but most of the time, it was such small-town gossip and fluff pieces.

Although, that didn't stop everyone from reading it, and you can best bet at least one article would be the topic of every breakfast table in Charming.

"Did you see the front page today?" You took the paper from your brother.

"The guys at Teller Morrow help local business."

You nodded, "yes I did. I'm pretty sure what Clay has going on with Jerry is illegal, I thought the news was supposed to be impartial."

Sam shook his head, "it's not when the head writer's sons works for Unser and Jerry's been getting free services for years."

The article was simple, and went on to talk about how after a truck fire, the local ice cream man was out of work, so T-M built him a custom truck and offered half-price service as long as he was in business.

"To be fair, he makes the ice cream himself and it's amazing, I don't blame them if they made him pay them hin chocolate chip Sundays."

****

"Wow, they've really got it in for Hale." Clay tossed the paper to the side, everyone had stopped by Gemma's for a nice weekend breakfast and the paper this morning was being passed from person to person.

"Dirty development done dirt cheap."

"Good, does anyone in this town want what Hale does. Even his brother dislikes him."

Jax shook his head, "you should have heard Earl go on and on about Hale harassing him to buy his house, he might wanted his lawn mower fixed but I'm pretty sure he was looking to hire Happy for some other work."

Gemma laughed, "wouldn't that be a story."

****

"Fun at Francine's Fabrics."

"Are you going to the sewing class on the weekend?"

You nodded your head, "Of course, I mean, I know how to sew but she always orders the fabrics I need so I want to support her."

Sam nodded, "yeah, some of the guys are going to be there. She's a good lady."

The piece about her shop was nice, the author had won the high school textile competition that year and wanted to give credit for all help Francine had given them. You hoped it would drum up business for her. Francine was a kind woman in her mid-fifties who went out of her way to help everyone who entered her store.

"She deserved every cent of what she makes this weekend, I'm glad the paper decided to run the story."

****

Jax put the paper in front of you, "what have I told you about sharing your achievements with me?"

You shook your head, "it was under duress, the museum made Holt force me to do it."

"Charming's own Miss Frizzle."

Jax dramatically opened the paper, reading the article out loud.

"Our tour started with a warm hello and the statement that there are no stupid questions, only stupid answers. Dr l/n took us through her lab where she and her colleagues help law enforcement identify missing persons."

"Dr l/n or y/n as she insisted we call her believes that science should be for everyone, and when she's not giving a voice to those who had theirs stolen, she's teaching the kids of Charming Elementary all about the world on her wildly popular tours."

"But that's not all, the quiet Charming resident is also an author and activist who spends her free time lecturing at various universities and speaking at the UN."

You shook your head, "ok Jackson enough. You are insufferable." He smiled and went to the cupboard, getting out the scissors, "what are you doing."

He picked up the paper again and started cutting, "I'm framing this."

You thumped his arm, "do you enjoy embarrassing me?"

He smirked like a cat who just caught a mouse, "no, I want to hang it in my locker."

****

Jerry answered the phone, "hello sir, I have a story I'm sure you'll love to run."

He picked up his notepad, "what is it?"

He could hear that the person was outside the paper's office, "in two days, something is going to break and you're going to want to be the first person to talk about it. Outside in the rose bush is a folder filled with photos, with plenty of proof to your story. All I ask, is that you run it under my headline."

Jerry sent someone out and sure enough, they came back with a thick yellow folder. He was shocked when he opened it. "Done, what's the headline?"

"Fascists at our door."

Part 31

Just a short one to add context for the next chapter which should be up tomorrow. I hope you liked this plot device.

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seven-oomen · 1 year

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Hi, Ben! I’m sorry it’s been a bad pain day, and I hope it’s gotten a bit better! So, I’ve been having severe writer’s block for a while, but with all the hubbub around the movie I finally started working on some of my WIPs. And one of the ideas I’d had was for a fluffy comfort fic for the boys, and since it’s been a shitty few days and I managed to actually get everything out of my head and onto the screen for this one, uh, here, have the first thing I’ve finished in like two years? (Holy shit, I finished something?!) I was gonna put it on AO3, but wasn’t sure if/how to make it private since it’s kinda technically another post-OUAT inspired fic and I wanted to check with you first before posting it? I tried to avoid any specific references to much. Also, I only reread it like once and gave it only the vaguest hint of editing because I was trying to do time zone math in my head, and I can’t even manage to think of a title right now. In case you’re curious, the movies mentioned are Jungleground (which does indeed feature a very bby JR, thank you for that IMDb), Mortal Kombat (because obviously), and WolfCop. Anyway, enjoy, and I hope it makes your day a bit better! *HUGS!!!*

If it is anything like this wonderful fic gift below, you have my blanket permission to use the OUAT universe for all your fic writing inspiration. My only requests is that you send me the link to said fics so I may read them too.

Because B, you cannot send me this much cuteness at 1:30 am and not expect me to absolutely flip the fuck out and go to sleep with a smile on my face. I absolutely fucking love this so much, holy shit, and I have FEELINGS. And if I wasn’t half asleep already, I would be writing fic with these feelings. (But alas I have been fighting sleep since 9pm and I am falling over, so writing will have to wait until the morning).

But I am so freaking excited to write more of that buddycop fic now and this is FEEDING ME. Watered my crops, blessed my day. It is a wonderful gift and one that I treasure with all my heart.

Placed the Dilf club/Stetopher sr fic gift under a readmore for people’s dash, but it is very cute, mentions a/b/o, but is fluff/comfort. It’s based/ in the universe of Once Upon a Time

Untitled Shameless Fluffy Comfort Gift Attempt:

Noah handed over the last bag to Melissa with a slightly rueful smile. With a look like she was doing her absolute best not to laugh at him, she got stowed it away with the rest in the trunk, while he leaned into the back seat to give both the twins one final kiss goodbye for the night. They barely seemed to even register it as they continued to giggle and grizzle at each other, staring around the unfamiliar vehicle in wonder from beneath their many layers.

“Thanks, Mel, I’ll owe you one.” He gave her a brief but thorough hug in deference to the chill winds whipping around the driveway and tossing her dark hair around like a banner.

“I don’t mind in the slightest, you know that. They’re too tiny to be too much trouble yet, and frankly I love to see the look of low-key panic on Scott’s face when he sees me with them because he’s worried I’m going to start asking about grandkids.”

Noah snorted out a laugh and gave her one last squeeze before stepping back. “Well, glad to be of assistance then.”

“Exactly. Speaking of, get back in there and look after my other boy. It’s freezing out here, and I’ve got these two.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he cheekily replied, tossing her a jaunty salute as he stepped back inside. He waited until he saw her drive off with a last wave before heading towards his bedroom.

Chris was still curled up where he’d left him, looking miserable but clearly trying to be stoic about it. They all had their fair share of recurring aches these days, courtesy of both the creeping march of time and the sometimes rather unfortunate events of their lives, but due to both his father’s…well, Noah might call them training methods if he were feeling particularly generous about it, which he rarely was…and a couple of hunts gone rather severely wrong, Chris’ bad pain days tended to be far worse than Noah or Peter’s. A passing weather system was causing plummeting temperatures and frankly horrendous pressure changes, and Noah was currently feeling occasional twinges in places he didn’t even know could twinge. He couldn’t even imagine how much worse it was for his husband right now.

Exchanging his more outdoor appropriate attire for a t-shirt and flannel pants, he gingerly climbed up onto the bed and curled up as close as he could to where Chris was propped up with the specially shaped and supportive pillows left over from Noah’s pregnancy, a heating pad across his shoulders and around one knee. At least two layers of blankets were draped over him to help hold the heat in, with more piled at his feet if needed. He leaned over and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to ruffled ashen locks, his hand almost instinctively reaching out to tangle with Chris’, his thumb stroking soothingly along one side as their rings clinked quietly against each other. A brief green glow lit up their twined fingers as he sent a burst of healing energy across. Some of the tension flowed out of Chris’ muscles, letting him melt more comfortably into the cushions, and Noah. He knew it wouldn’t help for terribly long- neither it nor the pain drain did- but it was something he could do to help at least ease some of his soulmate’s suffering, so he’d do it as frequently as Chris would let him.

“Still doing okay?”

Chris heaved a soft sigh and tilted his head to nuzzle his cheek against Noah’s. “No worse, at least.” There was the faintest twitch of Chris’ shoulders in what appeared to be an attempt at a shrug.

“Is it time for your meds yet?”

“I don’t really want to take any more for a bit if I can help it, make me feel too fuzzy,” he said with a slow shake of his head.

“Need anything?”

“Just you.” Chris sent him teasing look up through his lashes with the tiniest little adorable smirk on his face. Noah very badly wanted to kiss it off him, but figured that would be starting something his husband was in no shape to finish. “And Peter,” Chris continued with a glance past Noah’s shoulder, “if he ever manages to make it back.”

They’d managed to clear the house of all but themselves for the day so Chris could have some peace (they loved their kids, but there were just. So many of them.) The older kids were all at a party at Kira’s house (he supposed if anyone could keep most of their hellions and a handful of other kids under control, a 900 yr old kitsune could…), Ben was at a sleepover at a friend’s, and Melissa had generously offered to take the twins to her place since she’d had only a short, early shift today. The resulting freedom had lead to their husband announcing that it was high time they acquired some new films for their collection that they could enjoy for the first time without any “extraneous familial commentary.” After ascertaining that Peter was not intending to buy them any more porn, Noah reluctantly sent him to scavenge the used DVD section of the local Half-Price Books, slightly concerned what sort of travesties he might return home with, but knowing that their Alpha desperately needed to get out and do something to feel useful.

Almost as if Chris’ words had summoned him, Noah felt a tingling on the edge of his awareness that he only ever got around his husbands just as he caught the heavily muffled whir of the garage door opening and closing. Sure enough, Peter soon came waltzing in, one of their reusable bags dangling from his fingers and an elegant cream-colored box in his hand.

“Greetings my lovelies. I come bearing gifts,” he breezily announced, tossing his windblown hair out of his face with a move like he was in a damned shampoo ad. Noah was deeply irritated at how well he pulled it off.

Peter laid the items at the end of the bed and stripped off his coat and jeans, pulling his phone from his pocket and tossing it haphazardly towards the headboard. He gathered up the bag and box without bothering to put anything else on, climbing up next to the two of them in just his boxers and henley. Leaving his video findings to the side for the moment, he very carefully placed the box in Chris’ lap, lifting up the top flap with a surprising minimum of flair. The bounty contained within was a luscious looking pile of chocolate iced cream puffs, the scent of strawberries and cream wafting heavily in the air. They looked freshly made and richly decadent.

“My route home happened to take me past that patisserie you’re so fond of just in time for a new batch of these to be coming out.” He received matching fondly exasperated looks for the sheer unlikelihood of that statement, but neither called him on it. “I thought they’d make excellent snacks for our viewing marathon if you feel up to eating at any point.” As he spoke, he leaned in and sniffed delicately at Chris’ neck to try and get a read on his mood. Finishing with a soft nuzzle to his temple, he leaned back and glanced between the two Omega’s gazes.

“Thank you, Peter.” Chris’ face lit up with that happy little smile that always made Noah’s heart flutter, the faintest hint of a blush suffusing his cheeks. It was far preferable to the pale, pinched look he’d had most of the day, and Noah wanted to kiss Peter for putting it there. And also because his gorgeous husband was currently half naked and wearing smirk that managed to be somehow smug and shy all at the same time. And because he’d been gone for more than a couple of hours now and he still hadn’t gotten an I’m-home-and-I-missed-you kiss. Okay so he maybe had a lot of reasons to want to kiss Peter. Sue him.

Chris glanced consideringly down at the box, biting at his lip. “The nausea from the pain meds is still fading, but should probably be gone by the time we decide on a movie. I’ll look forward to them.”

With a happy little nod Peter moved the box to the far nightstand and snatched up the bag of DVDs. “Very well, gentleman. Allow me to share the wondrous artifacts I unearthed for us today.” Looking at the design of the labels on a couple of them, Noah wasn’t entirely certain Peter was kidding about that. He’d easily guess those titles to be fifteen to twenty years old at least. Their Alpha proudly scooped up one and held it up for their inspection.

“This delightful little dystopian number stars a former wrestler as a cop who gets captured by a gang of adorably young would be drug-runners and has to rescue both himself and his lady love. It looks astoundingly, laughably bad, but the gang leader is just absolutely precious, so I just couldn’t resist.” Noah wasn’t even sure where to start with that, and Chris was already looking amusedly resigned. Peter switched out the DVD for the next one, which Noah recognized and then had to fight the urge to facepalm.

“Next, we have this amazing cult classic that I know for a fact you have not had the joy of experiencing yet, Chris. I have had the pleasure, but it’s been rather a while and I was feeling nostalgic.”

“…Is that the one where they’re fighting demon ninjas to save the world or something…?”

“Indeed it is, in a glorious and amusing display of horrendously cheesy effects and impressive martial arts. So many sexy people beating on each other; it’s really quite enjoyable. I’m rather fond of one of the male leads myself.” He gave an exaggerated little shimmy. “Love me a man who can do the splits.” Chris rolled his eyes with an intensity that would have dropped him back into the pillows if he weren’t already there at that declaration, while Noah just reached up to pinch between his eyebrows for a moment. Blithely ignoring both of them, Peter swapped for the last DVD case. A gun-wielding Wolf Man style werewolf in a deputy’s uniform snarled out from the cover. Noah pinched a bit harder.

“This one is rather new, but I’ve heard good things about it. It’s also supposed to be mind-numbingly cheesy, but surprisingly smart at the same time. Also it’s apparently chock-full of references to older, well-known classics of the werewolf genre.” Noah could practically feel the rant about lore inaccuracies building up under his fellow Omega’s skin. That sort of thing tended to drive Chris absolutely crazy, but it was so cute to watch him vent (a refreshing change to his tendency to suppress most things in the interest of harmony) that they just couldn’t help themselves sometimes. “From what I understand the first part of him to shift is his dick.” Noah dropped his forehead to Chris’ shoulder just in time to feel the full body twitch that went through the hunter.

“You do recall that I mentioned I picked up the box set for Stargate: Atlantis the other day, right? You know, the one with Jason Momoa? I told you both about that, right?” Noah tried with much desperation but little hope to dissuade his husband from his chosen films.

“Yes, yes, dear, so you’ve said several times now. We’ll get to that eventually,” Peter replied without even pulling his gaze from his perusal of the back of the case. He distractedly reached over and picked up the Omega’s joined hands, lifting them up to place an absent, if drawn out kiss to the back of Noah’s. At the same time, he saw black lines begin to snake up his veins from where his fingers linked with Chris’ own. Chris sagged gratefully back into his cushions, sighing somewhat blissfully at his temporary reprieve. Noah was tempted to keep arguing, if only for the sake of his eyeballs, but the wolf looked calmer and less frazzled than he had since they’d first realized it was going to be one of THOSE days for their husband, and Chris looked more comfortable than he had in a while, so he resigned himself to his fate with a mostly performative reluctance.

“Let’s get this horrorshow on the road, then,” he said, snuggling in closer to Chris. Peter snorted, grabbing up the first DVD and heading over to the TV stand. The deliberate sway to his hips as he walked was confirmed as he reached the TV and threw a sassy wink back over his shoulder. The two Omegas didn’t even bother to pretend any innocence, raising their eyebrows at him in sync as they continued to appreciate the view. He shamelessly repeated his performance on the way back to the bed, grabbing another blanket to layer over them as he crawled up to press as close as he could to Chris’ other side. Noah managed to snake an arm between a fold in the pillows so that he could reach across to Peter without jostling Chris, and placed a grounding hand at the bend of the Alpha’s shoulder and neck. The tensed muscles there loosened fractionally, and he felt Peter drop a grateful peck to the side of his wrist in thanks. Giving a quick squeeze of their still clasped hands, Noah caught a glimpse of that tiny smile back on Chris’ face as he tucked his own into the side of Chris’ head on the pillow, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo and trying (and sadly failing) to ignore everything that was happening on the screen.

Ah well, he thought, not an entirely terrible day at least.

#teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #stetopher sr #peter hale #chris argent #noah stilinski #the dilf club #a/b/o fanfic #once upon a time tw fanfic #B #ben says stuff #words cannot describe how much I love this #fic under readmore

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lustgirl38 · 2 years

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Chapter 0002 Beauty Apartment

As one of the top ten companies in Huahai City, Splendid Group has built a 30-storey high-rise building on the second ring road where every inch of land is expensive. It is used as the staff dormitory of Splendid Group.

Because of the convenience of work, complete facilities and elegant environment, many high-level companies also live here.

There is also an alias here—Beauty Apartment, because most of the Jinxiu Group are female employees, ranging from senior executives with shares to ordinary salespeople, and most of them are good-looking, making the entire apartment look like a "daughter country".

Not to mention anything else, the trash can in front of the building, overflowing with a lot of flowers and love letters every day, can fit a small truck.

"Let go of me! Let go! You guys! I'll call the police if you keep doing this!!"

At the gate of the apartment at this time, four or five men in black suits were aggressively holding a woman in a moon-white ol skirt and came out of the apartment.

The woman's neatly combed hair is now messy, but she can still see a lustrous and fair face, a delicate nose, delicate red lips, and a light makeup showing the charm of a mature urban woman.

"Minister Feng! What the hell is going on here! Who are these people?" Aunt Zhao, the dormitory manager, looked anxious and wanted to go up to discourage her, but these men with strong backs were not easy to mess with.

There were some other female employees at the door, and when they saw the woman being arrested, they were all scared and pale.

Feng Yueying, the head of the sales department of Jinxiu Group, belongs to the top management of the company, and is also one of the most powerful women in the business circle of Huahai City.

Because Feng Yueying has been single for so many years, she lives in this apartment with peace of mind, which is convenient for work.

"Sister Zhao! Hurry up and call the police! Say that the White Shark Gang is holding me hostage!" Feng Yueying resisted all the way, turning her head and shouting to the dormitory aunt.

When Aunt Zhao heard this, her face turned pale with fright, "Bai... White Shark Gang? This... I..."

The White Shark Gang is the largest gang in Huahai City. It is deeply rooted and eats both black and white. Ordinary people don't dare to provoke it.

Aunt Zhao lowered her head tremblingly and did not dare to make a phone call, for fear of getting burned.

The man in the black suit who took the lead had gray-white hair and a beard on his face, and grinned at Feng Yueying: "Shut up! Stupid! Dare to call the police? Do you think it will work if you cheated our nine masters? Believe it or not? Slash your throat and throw it into the sea!"

As soon as these words came out, Aunt Zhao and other female employees next to them were even more afraid, and their bodies were stiff.

"That batch of goods was bought by your ninth master yourself! I'm just doing business with him! It's his self-love, what does it have to do with me!?" Feng Yueying's eyes were red with anger, and she was about to cry.

The white-haired man glared at him, "Bitch, it means that our ninth master has wrongly blamed you? It's cool that you won't let us serve some of our brothers tonight, don't want to come back! Take it away!!"

No matter how Feng Yueying resisted, she was only a woman after all. She was pushed into the car by so many big men, and she couldn't hold on anymore.

Originally, I was counting on Aunt Zhao, the dormitory, to call the police, but after thinking about it carefully, none of these people dared to provoke the White Shark Gang, and they felt ashes.

Could it be that she has held on to her innocence for so many years, and will be ruined tonight, tainted by such a group of villains?

At this moment, Ye Fan, who rode a bicycle to the door of the apartment, got out of the car and asked, "What's wrong? Minister Feng, why are they arresting you?"

Feng Yueying recognized Ye Fan and knew that he was a plumber and electricity repairman hired by the apartment. He could repair all kinds of electrical appliances, but he was not an official employee of the company.

The two have known each other for a while, but they are not too familiar with each other, so it stands to reason that they cannot be involved.

But Feng Yueying was so scared that she couldn't control it too much, so she could only plead, "Ye Fan! Help me call the police! They're going to kidnap me!"

"What!? Kidnapping in public!?" Ye Fan took out his mobile phone and said, "Don't worry, Minister Feng, I have the most sense of justice!"

Seeing that Ye Fan was really going to call the police, Aunt Zhao and a group of female staff all sweated on his behalf.

Sure enough, several of the white shark gang's men in black all showed suffocation, and the white-haired man said gloomily: "Stinky boy, do you dare to care about our white shark gang? Are you tired of living?"

"What white shark and black shark sounds better than yellow croaker," Ye Fan clicked his tongue.

"Yellow... yellow croaker!? Fuck you, beat him!"

The white-haired man gestured with his eyes, and immediately two men in black surrounded Ye Fan.

One grabbed the phone from Ye Fan's hand, and the other kicked Ye Fan's waist.

Ye Fan was too lazy to make a phone call, anyway, it was too late to call the police, so he just avoided the kick of the man behind him.

The man kicked in the air, but instead kicked another black-clothed man directly opposite.

"Ouch!" The man in front of him was kicked over.

Ye Fan took a step back at this time, his left foot was horizontal, and the man behind him who was about to retract his foot was tripped, and the center of gravity of his entire body was unstable, and he immediately fell with all four feet upside down.

All this took less than three seconds, and the people around didn't see what was going on, and the two strong men in black fell to the ground!

The female employees in front of the apartment were all dumbfounded, while Feng Yueying's eyes sparked a glimmer of hope. She never imagined that this young part-time worker would have such skills! ?

"Shit-eating guy! Shame on you!?"

The white-haired man spit, rolled up his sleeves, exposing his strong arms, and walked in front of Ye Fan.

"Boy, you asked for it yourself, don't blame me when I hit you with a concussion..."

The white-haired man grinned. He used to punch in the black market, and his arm strength was not at all that ordinary people could resist. When he raised his hand, a fist the size of a sandbag hit Ye Fan in the head.

Ye Fan was in no hurry, dodged and dodged, the white-haired man's punch just hit a black Buick commercial vehicle of their own.

With a bang, the white-haired man's fist hit the window glass, directly smashing the car glass.

The glass scum pierced his hand, and blood flowed, causing the white-haired man to grin and scream in pain.

Ye Fan turned around behind the white-haired man, and kicked his back leg, hitting his hamstring.

"what!"

The white-haired man screamed, one leg was sore and numb, and he almost knelt down.

"You?" The white-haired man gritted his teeth, staggered around, and struck Ye Fan again with his bloody fist!

But Ye Fan's foot had already been placed in front of the white-haired man, and he seemed to kick him lightly in the face. The white-haired man's nose bleeds, a shoe print appeared on his face, and he fell down.

"Boss!!" Several men in black looked dumbfounded. The white-haired man was beaten so hard that he was so embarrassed! ?

A group of female employees, the dormitory aunt, all watched with brilliance, as if it was the first time they knew Ye Fan.

Ye Fan looked back at the two big men who were still holding Feng Yueying, revealing a cold and evil smile...

"Hey, aren't you going to take him to the hospital? What if there is a concussion?"

The two big men were all excited, and they both let go of Feng Yueying in a gloomy way, and ran to lift up the white-haired man.

Four or five people got back to the car in a panic, and soon drove away in the Buick.

Feng Yueying was relieved, her whole body seemed to be collapsed, and when she left, she found that her whole body was covered in sweat, and she sat down on the ground panting, her heart still pounding.

"Minister Feng, are you alright?"

Feng Yueying looked up and saw Ye Fan's innocent and honest smiling face, as if the man with the cold and evil smile was not alone at all.

For some reason, Feng Yueying found that the man in front of him seemed to be wearing a mask, and he couldn't see the real him at all.

"Who are you... who are you?" Feng Yueying murmured.

Ye Fan blinked and smiled brightly: "I'm Xiao Ye, the maintenance worker here, didn't he go to Minister Feng's house to repair your electrical appliances twice before?"

Feng Yueying glanced at him with complicated eyes, knowing that she couldn't ask anything. She sighed, but said sincerely, "Thank you, Ye Fan, if it weren't for you, I would be in big trouble today."

"It's nothing, it's a small matter," Ye Fan said with a smile, and then stretched out his hand again, "Minister Feng, let me help you get up, the sun is hot on the ground, and sitting on your butt for a long time will cause diarrhea."

"Where did you hear that?" Feng Yueying blushed. This young man speaks very straightforwardly.

After hesitating, she still put Bai Nensu's hand on Ye Fan's.

Feng Yueying's figure is quite plump, her hands are not thin, and it is very comfortable to hold.

Just as she was about to pull the woman up, she heard Feng Yueying frown and let out a soft "Yeah".

"What's wrong?"

"My foot...it seems to be swollen." Feng Yueying's face was in pain, and I felt pity.

Ye Fan looked at her left foot, the heels of the high-heeled shoes were broken, and at a glance, she knew that she had accidentally injured it while struggling.

"Minister Feng, let me carry you on your back, forcing walking will hurt even more." Ye Fan did not say a word, and bent down in front of Feng Yueying.

"This...isn't it appropriate?" Feng Yueying's face turned red. She had never been carried by any other man except her father since she was a child.

Ye Fan smiled nonchalantly: "It's fine, I have good physical strength and can carry on my back."

Feng Yueying chuckled, "It's like I'm serious..."

Although it felt weird in her heart, Feng Yueying couldn't think of any other way. She couldn't ask other girls present to carry her, so she lay on Ye Fan's back.

#novel

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

how many drinks? | one shot (jjk)

summary: the question is - how many drinks would it take for you to sleep with your bestfriend?

pairing: jjk x reader

genre: (18+) college au, dance group au, bestfriends/bestfriends with some benefits au | fluff, smut, sprinkle of angst

words: ~12.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, kind of crack-y, dancer!jk to fulfill my needs, unprotected sex, sprinkle of dirty talk, fingering, sprinkle of a handjob, slight biting, nails digging into skin, oc almost gets taken advantage of/forced into doing things she doesn’t wanna do, rough handling, song kang is in this too because i’m also a hooch for him but he’s an ass here, alcohol consumption, intoxication, mentions of blunts/smoking, house parties, cuddling, kissing/makeout sessions, straddling, breast/nipple play, hickeys, fucking on the edge of the bed, multiple orgasms, fingering, licking/neck kisses, oral (f. receiving)

note: one shot title is taken from miguel's song ‘how many drinks’ + a couple of things--

both hoseok and jimin’s piece mentioned below are inspired by real-life pieces my old dance mentor has choreographed and taught. this is the inspiration behind hoseok’s couple piece; this is the inspiration for jimin’s piece

i’m a hooch for all three of them in this video

enjoy imagining koo and oc dancing part of their couples piece like this 🥺

"Y/N." You picked up Jungkook's call as you sat at your desk in your dorm room. You had been finishing up your bio homework until the interruption came blaring through on your headphones.

"Yes?"

"Can I nap in your room?"

"The fuck I look like? A hotel?" You snorted.

"Yeah, a 5 star at that with how good you take care of me." He tries to butter you up, causing you to roll your eyes.

"You're lucky I like you."

"Yesssssssss!" You hear him faintly exclaim on the other line. "Be there in a sec."

"You know my doors are always unlocked." Which, it was true. So many of your friends had decided to live off campus that you and your other bestfriend [and beloved suitemate] were probably the only few left on campus. And that meant people were constantly in your room, hanging out or using both of your rooms, [with permission] or the couches in the shared living room space of your suite as a place to nap. College, amirite? Why the fuck would you lose your parking spot to go back to your apartment when you have friends who lived right on campus? You weren't just good for smuggling free food from the cafeteria to your broke ass, struggling off-campus friends.

Sooner or later, you're greeted by a fluffy, black-haired Jungkook, looking like his shit must have air-dried with how wavy and voluminous it was. He swings your door open so aggressively that you jump a bit in your seat, swinging off your headphones like you weren't even expecting him. You watch as he flings himself onto your neatly made bed like he hasn't felt a bed in years.

"Ugh, yes." He moans as he belly flops onto your bed and stays in that position.

"When's your next class, you little baby?"

"In like an hour or so, I don't know." He says sleepily. "Wake me up, please?"

"Sure." You realize it's Wednesday, and he definitely has Ecology lab later at 3:00PM. You figured you'd wake him up by 2:30 just to give him enough time to groggily walk his ass back over to the science building.

You and Jungkook weren't really close before college. It was moreso that you knew of each other since high school because of mutual friends. You'd see him at parties and he'd see you, but it was never more than the casual hi and bye and small talk. Maybe the occasional comments on facebook pages and the likes on pictures on instagram. But foreel, other than that, that's as real as your friendship got for awhile. You didn't mind it though, you were good with your set of friends and he was good with his. A lot of your friends attended the same university as you two and then your groups intertwined even more.

But, it wasn't until the past couple of months or so where you both unexpectedly got really close - simply just by talking more and being around each other more. You both had similar interests and Jungkook wasn't the most vocal in his group, but with you, he seemed to talk endlessly. He loved comics and he loved raving to you about Marvel and DC superheroes. He loved to draw, and he'd draw you things every now and then - his most recent being you as a scientist superhero saving the world from overgrown malaria-infected mosquito monsters. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, and you tacked it against your cork board near your desk. Then, small things like that turned to bringing you food or boba, being stuck at the hip where he'd only go to a certain place on campus if you were there; texting each other inside jokes and funny ass tweets all day turned to facetime sleepover calls and then late hangouts eventually turned to actual sleepovers in your bed, where he'd drape his arm around while you both slept but it never escalated into anything more than that in bed. Although he did fucking hate your medium-sized Olaf plushie that took shelter on your bed - he'd always hike it across the room and talk about how annoying he is and how he's always taking his spot. You never understood it, really.

And then soon, it turned to small displays of affection behind closed doors, where Jungkook would hold you close. Hold your hand if you two were in the room watching a show, or movie. Small kisses exchanged. Big kisses exchanged, making out sessions. But, that was literally it. Nothing else. No sex. No pressure. Lots of unspoken feelings, obviously, but you weren't gonna be the one to bring that up. Because you were comfortable, and if anything, you didn't wanna ruin what you guys already had going.

Like, is this a friends with benefits thing? Maybe? Maybe not? It was hard to label it because it's not like you both determined so, it kind of just fell together that way. And there was really no pressure to fuck every single time you got affectionate. It was cute, sweet. And no one really knew it was like that behind doors - possibly your suitemate Kass and her boyfriend, Jimin, but that's only because you shared the dorm suite with her. Jimin was also one of Jungkook's roommates and his really good friend, so whenever they had slept over on the same night, it was pure and utter chaos. But honestly, if Kass and Jimin hadn't been around you two much, they most certainly wouldn't have the idea.

Whatever it was, it was a comfortable closeness that you both experienced and appreciated. However, the both of you were afraid of discussing what this really was, afraid it'll ruin the dynamic. The atmosphere. Having to come to terms of what it might, or might not be. Neither of you can fully admit that you like the other. Although, it got hard. People did lightly tease you two because you both always looked for each other and were stuck by the hip out on campus.

Oh, well. Bottom line is that you liked your relationship where it was at, but it doesn't mean you haven't thought about the what if's. Jungkook was insanely attractive, and it's no lie that girls swarmed him left and right on campus, but he didn't give a shit [either he didn't give a shit or he was dumb as hell?]. Okay, rewind — to be fair, he would have a fling or two, flirt once or twice. He'd tell you so and so was cute and that they've hung out or texted, but that's it. He just wasn't necessarily looking for anything cause he too enjoyed where he was at with everything.

It doesn't take long before Sleeping Beauty is snoring face down on your bed, looking like Patrick Star with the way he's sprawled out. But, you continue to do your work until it was time to wake him. You gently shake him, his puppy eyes looking back at you after being face down all nap.

"Class time."

"No." He groans. "Can't I just stay here with you?"

"No, dude. Get to class." You chuckle. "You already skipped last week."

"Yeah, but this is a new week Y/N."

"Jungkook." You almost say in a scolding manner.

"Fiiiiiiine." He whines as he shoots up and hops off from your bed. "Are you going to our party on Friday?"

"I said I'd think about it right?"

"Yeah, like on Monday. It's Wednesday."

"And I'm still thinking about it." You snort, making him pout.

"Just come for a little bit."

"Why? You know parties aren't my thing and you'll be too drunk anyways. I'll end up wanting to go right the fuck back home as soon as I step outside."

"I'd like to be drunk and have you there. It'll be more fun!" He pouts as he holds your hand and swings it back and forth.

"I mean, to be completely honest, I'll probably end up going because of Kass anyways."

"Because of Kass." He rolls his eyes. "Oooookay. Not because of you, Jungkook, no." He says sarcastically, brows furrowed.

"Ew. You're such a fucking whiner. Leave." You laugh, throwing an empty water bottle at him.

"I'm kidding." He chuckles. "Wanna grab dinner with me after practice?"

"Sure. If you pay." He groans

"Fine. I'll see you later." He puckers up his lips to blow you a kiss, which you automatically reject by giving him a look before turning your attention back to your homework. You were hoping he'd offer to go to In-n-Out because you were craving that #2 with animal fries and a neapolitan shake, plus there was a Target in the same plaza that you wanted to drag him to for new pens and clearance sale shopping. And you wouldn't even warn him about it. He would tag along, no question.

Hoseok stands in front of the mirrors in the studio, pacing back and forth as your dance group learned a couple of 8-counts from this new piece he had been brewing up. Apparently, it was supposed to be a couples piece but he wasn't sure if he was going to keep it that way. He watched to see if this would be better as a group, or if he should stick to his original plans.

Your college dance group was a small group formed by people with pure, genuine interest and love for modern hip hop choreography. Hoseok was the dance lead, with Jimin being the back up lead. The group came together, taught each other pieces, taught workshops for those interested on campus and performed at the various talent shows and productions the school had throughout the year. It was just your group's way of showcasing your talents, something you all purely enjoyed, and it was nice to see the love and support given by the audiences.

"Okay, run that from the top one more time please. We'll take break after, swear." Hoseok chuckles and gives Jimin the cue to start the song back at the starting point. Jungkook makes a funny face at you as he huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath from the last time you went through the counts.

"Ew." You giggle, slightly pushing him aside. Miguel's How Many Drinks begins to blast through the studio speakers, Jungkook doing his best to sing along and match his tone all while focusing on his steps. Once you're done going through the counts, the music continues to play, Jungkook twirling over to you just to sing—

"Cause I ain't leavin' aloneeee, I feel like I could be honest, babe." He spins to your other side. "We both know that we're grown, that's why I wanna knooooow - how many drinks will it take you to leave with meeeeEEeeeE?"

"You can give me all the drinks in the world and I swear I still wouldn't." You snort, making him frown and click his teeth.

"Too bad that's not really how you act when I ask to sleep over, though." Silence as you stick your tongue out at him. Cause, yeah. You really do tell him to sleep over without hesitation. You loved his company, you can’t lie. "Yeah, fraudulent as hell. I never taught you that." He jokes.

"Shut up, Jungkook—"

"Okay!" Hoseok says, clapping his hands. "This'll be a couple piece. I honestly think it'll work better that way, just like I envisioned it. I'll work with the couple to clean this up before the performance, but to whoever isn't casted for this, Jimin still has a piece to teach the rest of you, so don't feel discouraged!" Hoseok chuckles a bit, giving the rest of the group a small smile. "So with that being said - Y/N, Jungkook, I want you two to do this piece."

"Ouuuuuuuu." Jimin teases you from the sidelines, causing you to put up your middle finger.

"We won’t let you down, cap." Jungkook swings his arm around you.

"I'll teach you the rest of the piece next practice so we can start polishing it up and making it clean before the talent show."

"Sounds good with me." You flatly say, even though 100%, you're pretty excited for many reasons. One, you had been wanting to do a solo or couples piece for awhile, and two, your partner was Jungkook. Your best friend, your ride or die, the dude you've spent so much time with and gave your affection to behind closed doors. It made you giddy just thinking about it, even if you'd blatantly lie to his face later on when he'd tease you. And Jungkook felt the same. You missed the way he subtly bit on his bottom lip when you were named his partner, just so he wouldn't smile too big in front of you.

After practice, you egg him on enough to agree to take you to In-N-Out, without hinting at the plan you had drafted out in your head earlier. The plan that says you're gonna drag his ass to Target afterwards and he had no choice but to come along.

"Y/N, you liar." He groans. "You said you weren't gonna go to Target." He pouts as you follows behind you anyway.

"Kook, I literally just need to get one thing."

"What's the one thing that you couldn't get on your own time?"

"I don't know, I'll have to find out when we get in there." You giggled, causing him to groan again. "Plus, we're here already. Killing two birds with one stone."

"Ah shit, I suppose I can get some bottles for the party."

"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook."

"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook, aheh." He mocks your tone and does that really weird and ugly ass laugh that dudes always do when they try to mock girls, however, you ignore it because you've just stepped into Target and bitch, this was Disneyland to you. Heaven. Paradise.

"Hm, what are we drinking on Friday?" He says his text outloud as he follows you around the dollar section where you begin to pick up really unnecessary items that you're probably just gonna store away in or around your desk somewhere.

"Should be holy water because you all need it."

"Mmm, I don't know, I don't think they have that but we can check." He responds ever so seriously, causing you to chuckle.

"How many people are you expecting?"

"Honestly, I don't even know. We said we'd keep it to close friends only. I don't really have any friends, so that's all on them."

"Ah, makes sense as to how the entire class was invited." You fire back sarcastically. "Your upstairs neighbors are really gonna have a blast."

"They're invited too."

"You guys are so dumb." He laughs when you hit him against the chest. After walking a bit, the two of you head towards the alcohol aisle, Jungkook grabbing what his arms will allow him to grab since alcohol is a little cheaper here than other grocery stores. "Isn't there a limit as to how much alcohol you can buy?"

"I don't see anything anywhere." He hauls about 4 big bottles back to the cashiers. "Besides, I'm giving them business compared to Safeway and those other grocery stores."

"Grab the coupon at least, genuis. It could save you some money." You take off the coupons from the three bottles.

He looks down at the coupon attached to the 4th bottle. "Sign up today and get 2% cash back on every bottle you buy." He snorts after reading the coupon outloud. "More like sign up today and get 2% cash back turnt." He looks at you. "This doesn't sound like a coupon, miss. Where's the ‘get 5 dollars off’ bullshit?"

"2% cash back turnt? Really?" You furrow your brows at him and hand the coupons to the cashier. "Here. God, maybe you shouldn't be hosting parties with your roommates."

"Maybe not." He holds his bags, even grabbing onto yours as you both walk out to his car. He turns up the radio, the both of you singing along to the songs coming through. When he pulls up to the lot of Edgehill Village, he parks in someone else's marked spot only because it's technically next to your door and he doesn't anticipate to stay long. But honestly, that never goes as planned. He grabs your bag from the trunk, silently following behind you as you unlock your door to an empty suite - just as you expected. Kass was most likely at Jungkook’s, spending the night with Jimin, and you'd be alone for the night. It didn't matter to you though, the peace and quiet was always nice.

"You sure you're gonna be okay here alone?" You nod.

"Yup. It's kind of nice actually." You lean forward onto your bed since it's raised a little higher than usual with bed risers, and open up your laptop. Jungkook sets your Target bag down and wraps his arms around you from behind, planting a kiss on your cheek and on your jawline.

"You sure you don't want me to sleep over? Cuddles sound nice."

"It sounds like you want to."

"Only if you want me to." He nuzzles his head against your neck, waiting for your response.

"Kook, please." You chuckle. "If you wanna sleepover, then go ahead."

"Yesssss! I do."

"Well you need to find parking, or else the person that owns that parking spot will be highly upset."

"You got it, captain. Pull up a movie!" He says, dashing out of your room to move his car. He's most likely going to come back in another 5 minutes, being that the only free parking at this time of night is probably on the other end in the gym's lot, or somewhere on the streets [if he got lucky].

And so that 5 minutes sure does go by before Jungkook is breathing heavily when he walks into your room, duffle bag swung over his shoulder with a big, dorky ass smile on his face.

"I'm back!"

"I see." You snort, still going through the movies.

"Hey, let's run through what Hobi taught us first."

"Ugh, I'm so tired though."

"Cooooome on, just once." He pulls you by the hand, his body pressed against yours as his his other arm wraps around your waist. "Please." His puppy dog eyes look down at you, causing you to push him away because fucking hell, that shit makes you weak. Makes the pussy throb just a lil, you know? Christ.

"Only if you watch 10 Things I Hate About You."

"Sure, I don't mind." He pulls up the song on your laptop. The both of you face the mirror in front of you, careful not to hit each other since you had such limited space to fully move around. Running through it once was a full blown lie, being that you both are doing it for almost 5-6 times before you're laughing at how out of breath you already are. You're so out of it and winded by the last time around that you accidentally hit Jungkook in the face, causing him to whine and stumble off to the side.

"Oh shit!" You laugh. "I'm so sorry, Kookie!" You run over to cup his face. "Are you okay? You good?"

"Shit, Y/N. You have a heavy hand." He keeps his hand against his cheek.

"I'm sorry." You lean in to plant a kiss on his cheek, but Jungkook being Jungkook, he looks to the side to have his lips meet yours instead. He picks you up in one swift motion, your legs wrapped around his torso as he sits you on your bed, your hands still cupping his face. And honestly, you really wanted him. You've always wanted him since this whole thing started. God, he was attractive to you - every little thing about Jungkook was a fucking weakness, but you weren't gonna let up first. Not tonight. The scar on his cheek, his soft, fluffy hair, his toned body, his muscular ass arms, the way he held onto you when you both slept, the way he kissed you.

Lord, he was truly going to be the death of you.

Before the kiss could get any deeper, you smile into it and back away, keeping your gaze on the small, dazed smile Jungkook has on his face.

"Can we watch now?" You ask, subtly biting onto your bottom lip.

"Yeah, good idea."

"Actually, after all that, I need to shower first."

"Can I join?" His eyes light up.

"Sit your ass down. You can go after." You laugh as you hop off the bed, grabbing your pajamas for a quick shower. You literally take 10 minutes, walking back into your room with wet hair and an oversized shirt and shorts underneath. Although you had been completely comfortable with Jungkook, the both of you have never really seen each other fully naked like that. Whenever he slept over, you were both always fully clothed. You've seen him hop out of the shower and come in shirtless, but that's probably about it. You start to brush your teeth as he rummages through his emergency duffle bag full of shit that he holds in the trunk of his car, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes to change into after his shower. You already know his ass is gonna use your shampoo for everything because he loves the smell of it and always talks about how good your hair smells.

While waiting for him, you slip yourself under your covers and pull the laptop closer to you, scrolling through your phone aimlessly to see what's new on instagram. Which, is absolutely nothing, so you let out a dissatisfied sigh.

"Ready!" He comes in, tossing his towel aside and shutting off the lights to crawl into your bed with you.

"You smell just like me." You chuckle.

"It's great, isn't it?"

"Your hair isn't bothering you?" You run your hand through his incredibly wet hair as he shakes his head.

"No, I'll be good."

"Okay." He wraps his arm around you to pull you onto his body, the movie already off to a start. As the movie goes on, you find yourself getting sleep as both of your bodies sink deeper into the sheets, Jungkook still not letting you go. The laptop rests on his belly, while your head is on his chest, his heartbeat the one thing putting you to sleep pretty quickly. He's comfortable, just as you are. He's warm, you're warm. He's content, you're content. You drift off to sleep while he continues to watch, knowing your bodies will be pressed tightly against each other in the morning.

"Kook there's so many fucking people here. The cops are gonna come and shut this down quick." Jungkook shrugs.

"Oh well, wasn't my idea." He snorts. "Shot?!" He hands you a shot that you take with ease, feeling like you aren't drunk enough for all this shit and all these people. "Atta girl."

"Yuck, though." You slightly make a sour face as you feel the warmth trickle down your throat and into your stomach.

"Heeeey, whyyyyy do you look so FaMiliaR?" This girl asks Jungkook in a weird, flirty tone, where every other consonant goes up and down. She's obviously really fucking drunk and out of her mind because for one, she definitely goes to the same school as you two, and she has definitely been in class with Jungkook before.

"Oh uh, my name's Justin Bieber. I used to sing from time to time." He says nonchalantly with you furrowing your forehead at him because what kind of response did he just give her?! What did he just tell her? You're so embarrassed that you slowly turn on your heel and walk out of the kitchen as you hear him sing One Less Lonely Girl hella out of tune, with the girl completely smitten over his drunk ass.

"Where's Jungkookie?" Kass asks as she sits on Jimin's lap.

"Over there, pretending to be Justin Bieber apparently."

"Oh, nice. You don't come across that often." Jimin says sarcastically. "Are you staying here tonight?"

"Yeah, stay here tonight, with Kookie." Kass wiggles her eyebrows, her cheek resting on top of Jimin's head. "It's not like that's anything new."

"Um, I'd rather much be back in the dorm."

"That cold, lonely place? When you could be here, in such a pretty apartment with such a pretty boy?" You shake your head at her.

"Unbelievable." You mutter. Suddenly, an incredibly tall man walks into the apartment, reaching about 6'1 and almost hitting the ceiling with his tall ass. You've never seen him before, but he walks in with Hoseok and Namjoon and for whatever reason, you can't peel your eyes off of him. "Woah, who's that?"

"Who's what?" Jungkook finally comes to your side after being Justin Bieber for a good minute or so, his eyes following yours. Who was he and why were you looking at him so intensely?

"That's Kang! You've never met him?" Jimin says, doing a slight nod to greet him as he passes by. Kang and his fine self looks up at you, a small smirk creeping up at the corner of his lips as he continues through to the kitchen behind Hoseok and Namjoon. "He's a transfer and on the basketball team."

"He's fiiiiine." You and Kass swoon over him a bit, Jungkook giving you a look.

"He's alriiiight. I've seen better."

"Shut up, no one asked you." You lightly punch him on the side, making him lightly groan while Jimin and Kass laugh. The rest of the party, you suddenly have a goal to find out more about Kang and see what he's about because you and Jungkook weren't official. You both didn't really know what this was, but one thing you knew for sure was that it wasn't anything exclusive. You wouldn't bring it up, so wouldn't Jungkook - so was this really something all that meaningful?

Whatever, you didn't wanna keep going in circles about it.

Jungkook fucking hates it though, and he's honestly really jealous that you're suddenly trying to be all cute and woo the new, tall, handsome [but he's not really that fucking handsome to Jungkook for christ's sake] basketball player. Jungkook almost wants to mock his every move and how suavé he is, almost looking like a try hard with the way he's leaning against the wall and talking to you.

Wait— he's talking to you?! You were literally right next to him 2 seconds ago.

"What the fuck?" He squints, trying to make sure he's actually looking at you.

"You're so full of shit." Jimin laughs.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you just admit that you like her and stop being childish about it?"

"I don't like her. She's just my bestfriend."

"Um, okay?" Jimin snorts. "When you sleep at her place every chance you get and vice versa? When she has a ton of your shirts and hoodies in her own fucking closet? When you always get so affectionate with her in the dorm? Sure, you don't like her."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do, you've done it in front of me and Kass before but you both tried playing it off. I don't understand you two."

"Well, I don't like her. She obviously doesn't either with the way she's trying to be all up on him." Jungkook glares at you, his teeth biting the rim of the cup harshly as he brings it to his lips to take a sip.

"Whatever, I'm just saying dude. Probably better to be straight up about it than not."

"Kaaaaaaay." Jungkook responds sarcastically, trying to play off how butthurt he was right now. Cause yeah, he did fucking like you. He was just scared to admit it though because of reasons like this - the fact that you possibly didn't like him back killed him. The fact that you could possibly be using him to feel wanted, needed. It made his stomach turn.

He just really liked you, and god, did he want to be the one in your bed tonight. Whether or not that ended up in sex, whatever. He just wanted to be the one to touch you, be on you.

Meanwhile, Kang was attractive as hell and ouwee, were you feeling him tonight. You were, you really were - except, you could literally feel the holes Jungkook was burning through you from across the room. You'd occasionally glance over due to how distracting it was, Jungkook literally have no shame with eyeing you, almost glaring at you, from across the apartment.

"Is it too forward if I ask for your number already?" Kang licks his lips, his teeth lightly piercing his bottom lip as he looks down at you.

"No." You smirk at him, taking his phone to put your number in.

"We should kick it soon. I'd love to hang out with you and get to know you better."

"Yeah, just let me know when." You blush, until you're suddenly pulled out of your daze by a loud 'ahem,' the loudest throat-clearing you have ever heard in your life. You turn to see Jungkook making his way back over to the shots, knowing damn well he's calling you over. "See you around?" Kang winks before he tips his cup to you and gives you a single nod.

"Sure thing, cutiepie." You bite onto your bottom lip, making your way over to Jungkook at the shot station, instantly pinching his arm.

"What the fuck?"

"Nobody was calling you over." Jungkook smirks.

"Shut the fuck up, yes you were. I know that was you clearing your throat like that."

"I'm sorry, does it bother you?" He blinks cutely, tilting his head to the side. "Besides, why come over here when you're too busy with your man?"

"Are you jealous?"

"Why in the hell would I be jealous, Y/N? Do you." The words sting you, even though part of you still wants to believe that Jungkook may actually like you. All you can do is sigh and brush it off, placing your cup down in front of him as he pours himself another shot. "You sure?"

"Just give me the damn shot." You say, making it your 7th.

And the 7th turns into 8, 8 turns into 9, 9 turns into 10. And at 10, you're pretty fucking drunk even as the party is starting to die down by the time it's close to 2am. All 10 were a good combination of shots and mixed drinks.

10 drinks.

10 drinks is what it took for you to lay in Jungkook's bed at the end of the night, hands tangled in his fluffy hair as your makeout session intensifies by the minute - all due to this sexual tension, frustration, whatever the hell it was brewing between you two after all this time. The both of you are drunk as hell, and it's pretty evident with the way you can still taste the alcohol on his tongue, both sloppily touching up on each other, kisses getting wetter, clothes coming off like there's no tomorrow.

"Wait, are you sure?" Jungkook says, about to unhook your bra.

"Jungkook, god, just fuck me." You plead drunkily, the room spinning around you. He continues to unhook your bra, tossing it across the room where your other clothes lay, peppering kisses along your neck before licking up a stripe to meet your lips again. He hooks his fingers across the band of your panties, tugging them down and letting them get lost within his sheets. You take this as leverage to tug his boxer briefs down, already stroking his hardened member the moment you come into contact with it. The sad thing is that you both are so fucking drunk, you can't even appreciate the fact that you both are naked in front of each other for the first time ever.

You can't even come to terms with the fact that you both are about to fuck each other and cross that boundary completely.

But, hell, what do you care? You were drunk. You got a cute guy's number. You're getting dick at the end of the night.

"Oh shit, Y/N." He moans into your mouth as he feels you stroking him. "Need to feel you." He quickly runs his finger down your fold, slipping in two digits to pump them in and out, quickly prepping you for his dick.

"Hnnng--Kook." You bite onto your bottom lip as your eyes shut close momentarily, your head digging deeper into the pillow the more he tries to stretch you out. "Want you inside of me."

"I got you." He says. You almost whine at the loss of contact until you feel his tip poking at your entrance. He slowly continues to slip himself inside of you, Kook letting out a small groan while your mouth was left open, a soundless moan releasing before you hiss and take in all of him. He fills you up so well, so completely. He was so big that you felt full, bloated, with him being inside of you the way he was.

"Ohhhhhgod." You whimper as he starts to steady his pace, the lewd noises of his cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy filling his room - god forbid if Jimin or their other roommate Yoongi heard this right now. It would be nothing short of pornographic.

"You're so wet. Is that all for me?" He says, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head as he begins to aggressively thrust into you.

"Y-yes." You whine.

"Say it again."

"All for you, Kook."

"I fucking thought so." He drunkily responds as one hand grips onto your hips tightly, the other in your hair as he digs his head back into the crook of your neck, his tongue messily licking near your jaw before he nibbles onto your earlobe.

"Hmmmmgggh, Jungkook. Fuck." You moan as you start to work your hips upward into his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis, causing the pleasure to pool quickly within the pit of your stomach. It causes goosebumps to pierce through the surface of your skin, your hands gripping tighter on his hair. "You're-you're gonna make me cum. Faster." You plead. He does just so, hammering into you, the sound of his hips slamming into yours bouncing off of the walls.

"Ahhh—Y/N." He groans.

"Just like that, just like that, just like that!" You repeat, your clit feeling incredibly stimulated by the way it rubs against his skin while he fucks into you. "Oh shit! Jungkook!" You moan loudly, biting his shoulder as you feel yourself trembling hard in his grip, your orgasm taking over your entire body.

"Shit, shit, shit—Y/N, Shiiiit." He says into your neck, followed by more curses and groans as you feel him coat your walls warmly. He stays inside of you until the both of you come back down to normalcy, your breathing becoming more regulated. He slowly slips himself out, plopping next to you on the bed, but doesn't welcome you into his arms.

The night goes on, the both of you sleeping on your own sides of Jungkook's bed, not really saying a word to each other. Because the both of you, although still pretty drunk, are more aware by the time it's over and it's become so clear how fucked up this got.

You were hurt. Completely hurt. Because you didn't expect Jungkook to just fucking ghost you after that night. You wanted to talk about it, maybe come to the conclusion that you two should just distance yourselves from each other to figure this out, even if it would hurt you a lot to do so.

No.

That morning, Jimin and Kass had to take you back to campus because Jungkook had darted out of his room, nowhere to be seen until later that night. The next week or so, there were no texts, no calls. No visiting your dorm, no asking to sleepover.

Nothing.

Just radio silence, white noise, if you will.

The one thing he could come up with was a stupid response to your text when you finally caved and asked what you did wrong mid-week.

Something along the lines of 'what do you want me to say, Y/N? do you want me to force myself to feel a certain way?'

Followed by a 'i'm sorry, fuck. that came out really wrong' even though you thought it came out perfectly fine. You understood loud and clear.

Even though this wasn't really an exclusive thing, or even a 'thing' if we wanna be straight up, you still couldn't help but feel like Jungkook had just dumped your ass with no explanation and you were still waiting for that explanation to come, whether it would or not. And because of this, you started to see Kang, hangout with him more often. He even took you out on a dinner date and you really enjoyed his company. He seemed genuine, caring, supportive - even if a lot of the basketball boys were the complete opposite. He was different, you liked to think.

And so you stand in front of the mirrors in the dance studio, you and Jungkook awkwardly running through the piece with Hoseok watching, confused as to why all of a sudden the two of you have this weird tension going on. It hasn't entirely ruined the couple piece, but it hasn't brought it together, either. The both of you could barely look at each other, barely get into the movements, the emotions behind the motions. Hoseok had to correct a few things, his 'pah pah pah's' echoing in the room constantly with how many times you and Jungkook had to be set straight for your sloppy steps today.

"Okay, I'm not saying it's bad, cause it's not. But can you both please act like you at least like each other or something? What's going on with you two? You aren't normally like this." Hoseok says, coming down to a crouch in front of the mirrors.

"Nothing, we'll do better. Don't worry." You brush off the entire question with your quick response. Jungkook looks at you, his hands on his hips, lightly frowning at how much you're distancing yourself even though he knows its entirely his fault for running from his feelings and not being honest with you.

"Okay, let's do it from the top." The music starts, you getting into the piece without making any eye contact with Jungkook. Even the steps that cause you to be close and near Jungkook, you look anywhere but his eyes, and your touch is light, trying your hardest not to let any feelings pass through the motion. Hoseok is a little more pleased this time around, but it still doesn't sit right with him, so he lets you two take a break while he heads to the other studio to check on Jimin and the rest of the group.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

"Jungkook, you don't get to ask me that." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, not sure if he should continue on or not.

"Y/N—"

"Save it, and let's just get this over with, okay? I don't wanna be here just as much as you." Your words cut him deep because dear, you have gotten him completely misunderstood and yet, he still can't speak. He still can't talk about his feelings. He still can't save this even though he wants to, even though he loathes seeing you the way you are with Kang.

"I never said—"

"Kay, ready? Let's run this full out and make it a good one so we can call it for today." Hoseok says, clapping his hands to hype you two up somehow. The music starts and you're finally able to get into the steps. The emotions. And god, it's only because you're so hurt by your own bestfriend. You're hurt that he fucked you so good, and then dipped. You're hurt that he couldn't even face you the day after. You're hurt that after all this time, he made it seem like you still didn't matter enough - at least enough for an explanation, for some kind of reasoning, conversation, behind what just went down between the both of you. Between what has been going down between the both of you.

Besides the stupid ass responses he gave you through text.

You get so into your feelings that you don't even realize you're tearing up by the time the piece is over, and Jungkook catches it even though you face away from him as soon as the music cuts out.

"Nice, okay! That was so much better! Let's pick it up next session, yeah? We'll keep cleaning it up. Thanks guys!" Hoseok says. You immediately head towards the wall, grabbing your things to avoid any confrontation from Jungkook, but he grabs your arm as soon as you slip through the door.

"Y/N, wait. Stop."

"Let me go." You yank your arm from his grip.

"Why are you crying?" He stops in front of you, his hands placed on your arms to prevent you from moving any further.

"I'm not." You blatantly lie while you aggressively wipe away the stragglers coming down.

"Really? Just gonna lie like that?"

"Why do you care? You haven't said shit to me all week." You snap back, and Jungkook is taken aback from the tone in your voice. You remove his hands from your arms, and take one last look at him before shaking your head and walking off.

Next mistake? He doesn't come after you.

This was a waste of fucking time. If he truly cared about you, he wouldn't let you hurt like this.

You let out a deep sigh before clutching onto your things and walking back to your dorm. The walk from the gym/fitness center was damn near on the other end of campus compared to your dorm. It would be a good 10 minute walk if you really took your time. A good 10 minutes to ponder on your thoughts.

Yes, you liked Jungkook. You really liked him. Having sex with him solidified those feelings even more. How could you not have feelings for your bestfriend after all the moments you've shared? Was it your fault for assuming that? Was it your fault for walking through that door when it seemed to be completely open for you?

"Sup." Kang comes out of nowhere, pulling you out of your thoughts. He swings his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you closer to his body. "Just got out of practice?"

"Sure did." You give him a toothless smile. Yes, he was attractive as hell. He always will be. But, even with the time you spent together, the date he took you on, he still couldn't make you feel the way Jungkook has been able to make you feel.

"How was it?"

"Um, it was alright. Nothing new really, just cleaning up the piece before the show. You're going right?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He smiles down at you. "Listen, I don't know if you've heard, but there's another party tonight."

"A party? It's Wednesday." You snort.

"Yeah, I mean, one of the boys on the Lacrosse team is throwing it at his family house because his parents will be gone. Wanna come? I'll pick you up. We don't have to stay for long." You looked at your watch.

"What time is it at?"

"Like 9ish?" Enough time for you to shower and get a quick dinner in your belly. Why the hell not? You were caught up for the week. You didn't have any pressing assignments that were due asap.

"Sure. I'll come."

"Cool. See you later then?" He says, about to part ways with you. You simply give him a nod before walking deeper into Edgehill village. You hoped you wouldn't regret this tonight, and you really hoped he meant it when he said you two didn't have to stay for long. You drag yourself into your room, seeing Kass' door wide open, revealing her packing up her duffle bag.

"Hey, where are you headed during the middle of the week?"

"My two classes got cancelled for tomorrow so me and Jiminie are heading out for a mini getaway for our anniversary." You cross your arms and smile. "He's just gonna catch up on shit when we get back I guess." She laughs.

"That sounds cute. I hope you have loads of fun this weekend, babe."

"What are you gonna do?" Kass and Jimin were obviously aware of everything happening between you and Jungkook being that they had to be the ones to take you home. They never pressed on it though, knowing you both were still pretty upset about how things were playing out. They figured you two would eventually work it out, but until then, they would just sit back and keep their mouths shut. You two were being completely stubborn, but it wasn't their relationship to fix.

"Well, there's this party Kang wants to take me to tonight."

"The Lacrosse party? Messy." She laughs. "Be careful, but also have fun, yeah? I still don’t know if I trust him.”

"Yeah I know."

"Tell me how it goes!"

"I will." You wave her off as you head into your room and shut the door. You figured you would just grab dinner on campus to avoid spending more money than you should; after all, dinner seemed to be pretty bomb tonight. You didn't mind going alone, sometimes Namjoon would join you, asking for you to bring him a plate of food while he does the hard job of sneaking inside the cafeteria through the back door. He usually waits for you at a free table and ends up staying there to have dinner with you, updating you on how life has been, how school has been. Sometimes Hoseok would join you, too. Either way, you didn't mind if no one joined. It was nice to have dinner by yourself from time to time.

You get there on time to be able to grab some food, eat quietly and head out before the cafeteria gets way too busy for your liking. You slip into the shower and throw on a mini skirt, a crop top and a denim jacket, lightly fluffing your hair in the mirror and adding a dab of lip gloss to your lips before Kang is calling you to tell you he's outside your dorm. He's wearing something similar to your color palette, however, you don't make much out of it since this also wasn't really an exclusive thing and you sure as hell weren't going around telling people you and Kang had a thing going on.

To him, you two might be a thing. You've definitely overheard people talking about you two in passing.

To you though, you two definitely weren't. And it was a big fuck you to Jungkook for that.

The house is packed from end to end already, and you're surprised being that it has barely hit 10 minutes since the party was expected to take off. Kang is having to park down the hill, allowing you to hop onto his back for a quick piggy back ride up until you reach the front of the house. There's people already fucked up out on the lawn [you figured they fucked themselves over during their pre-game session cause that shit really happens from time to time], either laying there drunkily or yacking on a free patch of grass.

Gross.

Messy, indeed.

Some people are posted, smoking blunts and offering it to people who were passing by. You and Kang both pass up on it, the idea of not knowing where it has been not sitting right with you. You both head straight to the bottles, taking shots and downing mixed drinks to chase it with so that you can catch up with majority of the crowd. Kang has his arm around your shoulder throughout the night, keeping you close to him, even when he's getting pretty drunk. You realize he's a little more handsy than usual, a little more touchy than you expected him to be. It doesn't bother you for a minute, until he really tries to hike up your skirt while you sit on his lap. You gently shoo his hand away, playing it off while he nuzzles his head against your neck.

"Let's go upstairs, babe." He says, the pet name sounding incredibly off coming from him. Maybe you were drunk, maybe you really just weren't in the mood. It just didn't sound cute, if that even makes sense?

"Okay." You respond stupidly, not wanting to cause a scene at a lacrosse party. You intertwine your fingers with his as he leads the way up the stairs, eyeing the doors as they come into view. He leans forward towards each door, making sure it's clear before opening it. You assume he finally finds one that he's satisfied with when you catch the small smirk that grows at the corner of his lips when he turns the door knob and brings you inside. He pulls you into a deep, rough kiss, one that doesn't even allow you to breathe and process what the fuck is even going on. You can't get into it for the life of you, no matter how hard you try to back away. "Wait, wait."

"What's wrong, baby? Isn't this what you wanted?" He says, kissing down your neck as he drops his jacket to the floor. He gently pushes you onto the bed, his hands traveling up your skirt as you lay there trying to push him off.

"Wait, stop." He doesn't listen. He continues until his hands are literally hooking onto your panties, his finger swiping down your clothed folds. You try fighting him off, but he's way stronger than you. He continues to be aggressive, forcefully trying to shove your panties down until you muster up all the energy you have to finally push him off of you completely. "Stop!"

"What the fuck? I thought you wanted this?"

"Who the hell said that?"

"Are you serious? The way that you're dressed and the way that you look at me. The way you approached me at your friend's party - isn't it all because of this? Because you wanted me? Why are you backing out now?"

"Jesus, get over yourself." You stand, fixing your skirt back down. He furrows his brows at you before his hand grips your arm tightly, shoving you against the wall.

"The fuck, you can't just leave without giving me anything. I brought you here to this party."

"Let me go! You're fucking sick. No one even told you I wanted this to go down. I don't know who you think you are, but you need to get yourself together and stop assuming every pussy is yours to take." He attempts to pin you, his hand holding up both of your hands against the wall while the other tries to pull up your skirt. Someone accidentally opens the door, distracting him and giving you leverage to shove him off and get the fuck away. You dart down the steps, fixing your skirt as you head outside and away from the house.

Fuck, you're far from campus. And Kass and Jimin aren't around.

God.

You groan and run your hand through your hair as you continue to walk down the hill and into the neighborhood to get as far away as possible from that house and that gross ass dude. He was literally just like the rest of the basketball team. You've heard stories and they weren't nice. Looks like he was trained well already, and that shit was sad. What a waste. A beautiful human being with such a nasty, sick mindset. You hoped other girls hadn't fallen for his shit.

Ugh, it sends shivers down your spine. Bad shivers.

"Hello? Y/N?"

"Kook, can you come pick me up please?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. Where are you?"

"I'll drop my location. Please hurry." You say, looking back to make sure your coast was clear. You drop the pin into your text thread with Jungkook and sit on the curb until his arrival. It's getting pretty chilly out, and the denim jacket you're wearing fails to provide you with the warmth you're looking for. Sooner or later, Jungkook is pulling up, damn near hopping out before he can shift the gear into park.

"You okay? What happened?" He says, opening the door for you before rushing over to the driver's seat.

"Nothing, can we just go back to your place?" He nods silently, and doesn't press any further after hearing your tone. He watches from his peripherals how you fiddle with your fingers and constantly reach to pull your skirt down even though he doesn't think there's any other way you could pull it down even more. He watches as he parks the car on the curb in front of his apartment how you simply undo your seatbelt and hop out to walk straight into his apartment. He watches as you welcome yourself into his closet and pick out some clothes for you to change in.

You were hurt, and his blood boils thinking about who could've done this and what they could have possibly done.

I mean, no. He knows who did this, but the question was what exactly did he try?

He hears the shower turn on, then quickly get turned off after a good 5 minutes. You had stepped in for a quick body shower, using Jungkook's bodywash just to rid yourself of feeling gross. Feeling gross from being shoulder to shoulder all night long, people breathing down your neck. Kang touching you inappropriately. You slip into Jungkook's clothes, his scent wrapping around you entirely. When you head back into the room, Jungkook has his headset back on as he faces his computer, logging back onto his game of League of Legends. You silently toss your dirty clothes to the side of his room, making a mental note to grab it tomorrow morning and toss it straight into the laundry.

Straight into a fire, perhaps. But you loved those clothes so much, it was unfortunate it'd have such a horrible memory to go with it.

Jungkook slowly removes his headset again and removes himself from his game before he heads over and sits on the edge of his bed. You simply look at him, pursing your lips tightly together to prevent yourself from crying.

But he can tell.

"What happened Y/N?" The question triggers you, making you cry into your hands as he sits there, dumbfounded and worried at how he can fix this and make you feel better. "Look, you don't have to tell me all the details but please tell me how I can help. At least tell me if I need to beat Kang's ass." He says, pulling you into his arms.

"He tried to fucking take advantage of me." You mumble as you remove your face from your hands.

"He did what?" He manages to ask even though he has a hard time swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He already assumed you had placed him in the same category as Kang even though he never intended to take advantage of you. He really took that night as something special [even drunk], and he never meant to make you feel like you were a used object. Not like Kang.

"He-he," You sniffed. "He tried to force me into having sex with him. He took me upstairs at that lacrosse guy's party or whoever the hell it even was, and he started to aggressively kiss me. And then he tried to force my panties down and touch me there, and—"

"Okay, please don't go on or else I'll literally go over there and tear his ass apart right now. I promise you." He says sternly, his jaw clenching tightly. "God, fuck. I'm so sorry Y/N. I can't apologize on his behalf but fuck, you didn't deserve that." He uses his sweater to wipe your tears.

"I don't even know why I'm crying, this shit isn't even worth it." You groaned. "It's just overwhelming to process, I guess."

"That's okay." He says, letting out a sigh as he brushes his hand through your hair and continues to wipe the stragglers falling from your eyes. "Anything I can get you right now?"

"No, I'm probably just gonna go to bed." He nods. "Thank you for picking me up."

"Of course. You know I'll always be there." He says. You slip yourself into his sheets, watching as he makes his way back to his desk. But fuck, the only thing you needed right now was him. You didn't want this distance anymore, and you just wanted to be comforted in true Jungkook fashion.

"Wait."

"Hm?" He hums as he has a hand placed on the head of his chair while he turns to you.

"Can you just lay with me?"

"Yeah." He says, shutting off his computer before making his way over to you in the dark. You feel him slip in next to you, his arm snaking around your shoulders so he can pull you close and onto his chest. "Better?"

"Yeah." You say, shutting your eyes as you listen to his heart beat.

"Y/N."

"Yeah?"

"I never meant to take advantage of you, or make you feel like I used you that one night." Silence. "It was dumb of me, but I just— I had trouble coming to terms with my feelings. I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same way, but I thought fuck it, at least you would know, right?"

"What are you talking about, Kook?" You ask, close to a whisper.

"I'm saying that I really fucking like you, Y/N. No, that's not right." He curses himself. "I-I uh, I'm in love with you. And I don't know if I messed this up already with the way I acted, god I hope not, but you at least deserve to know that I truly do value you and that you mean alot to me. That night, even though we were pretty plastered, it meant a lot to me. It was more than just sex and I'm sure you felt that too." He waits for your response as his fingers rake through your hair. "Please say something, anything."

"I feel the same way, Jungkook. You're an idiot for running off, but I couldn't even stay mad at you. You just know how to hit my soft spots and I can never say no to it. Can never turn my back on it." He presses a kiss against the top of your head.

"Fuck, I'm really glad to hear that cause I don't know what I would have done besides cry if you rejected me." You playfully hit his chest.

"You're annoying." You jokingly say as you chuckle.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I never wanted to hurt you."

"It's okay." You look up to press your lips against his before laying back down.

"And Kang better be fucking glad you're pressed against my body right now because I'm still looking to beat his ass."

"He's not even worth it." Is the last thing you say before you find yourself drifting into a deep sleep, in the comfort of Jungkook's arms.

"You two feeling okay? Nervous?" You and Jungkook shake your heads. "Good, you guys got this. You've been looking amazing during practice, the audience will love you two, no doubt. Just remember to show emotions through expressions and hit every beat sharply." Hoseok nods in unison with the both of you.

"Got it, thanks Hobi." You smile at him toothlessly. You and Jungkook patiently waited for your turn backstage, the talent show already off to a wild and fun start. So many students came by to showcase their talents - from beatboxing, open mic, freestyling [like Yoongi did], dancing, singing, you name it. It was always a fun time at the talent show, and it was always nice to see people getting love for the shit they loved to do.

"You're up next." Hoseok says. "I'll be in the front row. Kick ass and have fun!" He says as he rushes off towards the opposite end to head back out to his seat in the theater.

"Ready?" Jungkook holds out his hand for you to take.

"I think so." You playfully respond as the backstage crew is rushing out the previous talent and rushing you two in to take your places on stage. The lights pick up as soon as the music starts, Kang's big ass head already in full view for you. He's definitely not smiling, no, he has a look of pure disgust because he simply couldn't get what he wanted from you.

And boy, who's fault was that? Not yours, no sir. It was his fault for thinking he had it like that.

But anyways, you're feeling the music, you're feeling the piece because you're dancing with your bestfriend and there wasn't this grey area anymore. It was easier to get into the motions, to get into the feeling, especially when things felt right between the two of you.

And God, what else is more attractive than Jeon Jungkook hitting his 8 counts so smoothly, with just enough umph to make it pop but make it pop cleanly.

Yo, please. I beg. Send some help. You could literally melt on stage.

The moments where Jungkook has to be close to you, where he has to touch you - you let him, and you touch him with meaning. You don't stray away this time because you have no reason to. The crowd is cheering, lots of 'ou's' and 'aw's' erupting from various places in the theater.

"Pretty lady." Jungkook whispers in your ear as the move requires his hands to be placed on your hips for a quick moment. You hear him slightly singing along to the song as he parts from you, causing you to blush.

Sooner or later, the couple piece is over and the song is transitioning to Jimin's piece, you and Jungkook rushing off the stage so the next group can take their positions. Jimin wanted to test his limits, creating a piece a little different than his usual taste - Chris Brown's Came to Do begins blaring through the theater speakers. You immediately jump into Jungkook's arms once you both reach backstage, the both of you immensely happy and pumped that you got through the piece without messing up one step or beat. It went so smoothly that Hoseok was standing in the front row, clapping and cheering in typical Hoseok fashion. You intertwine your fingers with his, slipping through the side door to catch Jimin's piece on stage. You and Jungkook are cheering them on, always impressed by the shit your friends can come up with. You both loved dancing, but you couldn't even imagine coming up with your own pieces to teach people.

That night after the show, everyone heads to a nearby restaurant for dinner with everyone. You all take up almost an entire section of the restaurant, splitting two long tables to accommodate the entire group with doubled the waitresses to take your orders. You settle for water, splitting an abnormally huge and filled deep dish pizza with Jimin, Kass and Jungkook. It was a good day, a good night, everyone at the table happily eating and chatting it up over dinner. You turn down any drinks because to be honest, drinks lowkey make you queasy just from the thought of how much you drank at Jungkook's apartment, plus the added bonus of that party Kang took you to. Jungkook declines as well, knowing he has to drive you back safely.

Jimin and Kass head back to the apartment because Yoongi says he's gonna hang out with Joon And Hoseok for a bit, and they warn you and Jungkook that things may get loud so the both of you decide to really stick to the plan of bringing you back to the dorm. Jungkook does his usual routine of dropping you off first before finding parking around campus. You hop in the shower and come out in Jungkook's oversized crewneck that he left in your closet, forgoing the shorts because you certainly thing that at this point, he'd love to see you in his sweater and panties.

And he does. He smiles as he pulls you close, his hands traveling up your sweater, only to find out that you literally don't have shit on besides some cute little boyshorts. He feels himself hardening in his pants quick because he's incredibly attracted to you and everything about you, always has been, always will be.

"You did amazing tonight." He says, gently kissing your forehead.

"You did too, partner." He gives you a slightly shocked look.

"Is that all I am to you? Your dance partner?"

"Yeah, why? Were you expecting more?" You joke as you smile up at him.

"Yeah, I was."

"Oh?" He gently swoops you up into his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around his torso as he sits you on the bed, his hands resting on your thighs while you continued to hold him around the neck. "Care to tell me what you were expecting?"

"Well, you know, my best friend—" He presses a kiss against your lips, thumbs gently rubbing circles against your hips. "My girlfriend."

"Hm, say that again?" Your fingers are gently playing with the ends of his hair, your lips barely grazing his.

"My girlfriend." He says closed to a whisper, kissing you softly. The kiss deepens quick, Jungkook's tongue lining your bottom lip as his way of asking for permission to take it further. You gladly take it and let him in, your tongues instantly fighting for dominance. Your fingers travel up his hair, tugging ever so slightly just to let him know you want more. That you need more.

And he gets that.

His fingers hook onto the band of your boyshorts, tugging them down and letting them fall down your legs and onto the floor. He breaks the kiss momentarily, his brown, puppy dog eyes looking straight into yours.

"Hey." He says, brushing the hair out of your face.

"Hm?"

"I know I said the last time was special, and it was. It is." He corrects himself. "But, I wanna do right by you this time around. So, is it okay if I keep going? Are you comfortable?" He asks properly, since the two of you are both sober and perfectly coherent, aware of your surroundings and the fact that you'll be seeing each other fully naked in a few minutes.

"Yes." You respond. "Yes, I want you to keep going. I want you. This." He simply nods, bringing his lips back onto yours. His hands climb up your sweater and gently gives your breasts a good squeeze, earning a small moan from the both of you. His other hand begins to travel down to your pussy, two long fingers slowly probing your entrance and causing your breathing to hitch.

"You okay?" He asks lowly. You nod, biting onto your bottom lip as you tilt your head back and rest on your hands, no longer able to keep up with the kiss due to all the pleasure starting to pile up deep in your core. Jungkook starts of slow, his head now buried into the crook of your neck as he works his digits upward, tickling at the right spot.

"Ohhhh, Kook." You mewl as his tongue swipes across the surface of your neck, biting gently beneath your jaw. He begins to pick up the pace, the sounds of him finger fucking you filling up the room entirely.

"Fuck, you're so wet baby." He groans into your neck.

"I'm gonna cum." You whine, teeth almost piercing through your bottom lip in between your whimpers.

"Need to taste you." He removes his fingers and sinks down in between your thighs, gripping onto them and pulling you just a teensy bit more off the edge of the bed so he can get a good angle. The sight of his eyes looking up at you in between your legs is to die for, and the sight alone is enough to make you cum. But, you hold on, you ride out for a little longer - feeling Jungkook's tongue swipe in and out of your folds before he's sucking endlessly on your clit.

"Ahhh, fuck, wait, Jungkook!" He slightly smiles while eating you out, signaling that he's not stopping even if you beg him to. "Hnnng—shit!" You moan loudly as you feel yourself toppling over the edge, your body shaking in Jungkook's grip. You twitch every time he continues to suck gently on your sensitive nub, letting you ride out the rest of your high. He comes back up to your lips, the taste of your own cum lingering on it as you kiss him deeply.

"You taste so good." He says, back to twirling your nipples in between his fingers.

"Wanna feel you." You fiddle with his jeans, undoing his belt and sliding the rest down as much as you could. Jungkook gets out of his shirt and tosses it aside before helping get the sweater above your head. His eyes glow at the sight of your bare body in front of him, wanting to do nothing but please you and please you well.

"God, you're so perfect." He places kisses down your collarbone, to the surface of your breasts before quickly swirling his tongue around your perked buds. You moan as you tug down onto his boxer briefs, immediately stroking his hardened member while he tended to you. Jungkook was a fucking beauty himself - his soft hair, his perfectly toned body, his long 'thick in all the right places' dick.

"Please." You plead. "I want you inside of me." You whimper, causing Jungkook's breathing to hitch when you slightly tighten your grip at the base of his shaft. He gently pushes your hand aside to take over, lining himself up at your entrance. He inserts the tip, watching your eyes roll to the back of the head as he slowly sinks into you.

"Mmmmmgod." He moans. "So tight for me, baby. So fucking wet and tight." He repeats, close to a growl. Your moaning begins to pick up, matching the pace of his thrusting. You're still on the edge of the bed, Jungkook keeping you steady by gripping your thighs tightly. He marvels at the sight of your titties bouncing up and down with every thrust, hissing and shutting his eyes momentarily to keep himself grounded and to prevent himself from coming too quickly. Cause god, he can literally blow any second now.

"Jungggggkooook, yessssss!" You moan loudly, whining even at this point with how good he feels fucking into you at such a fast pace. You're feeling slightly sore already from him hammering into you, but nonetheless, it builds more pleasure for you and you want nothing but to reach your high again. "I-I'm coming!" Jungkook moans in unison with you when he feels your walls pulsating against his cock.

"Such a good girl for me." He says, slowing his pace. The creamy sounds of Jungkook's cock slipping inside and out is music to the both of your ears. He finally gains the courage to remove himself, sitting next to your spot on the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap. You swing a leg over, your hands resting on the nape of his neck while you sink yourself lower onto his length. Your mouth opens to let out a moan, but the best you can do is let out a hiss. It feels too fucking good that you can't even process it thoroughly. Jungkook pushes your lips down onto his by grabbing your neck, his other hand guiding the movement of your hips as you roll into him.

"Mmmggg—Jungkook." You whimper in between kisses. "You feel so fucking good, god. You're gonna make me cum again."

"Yeah, cum for me. Cum all over me. It's yours." He grunts, his hands guiding you to work him faster. Your movements are getting sloppier, and you feel your wetness starting to coat his pelvis. He doesn't give a fuck though, and neither do you. This shit feels too good for you to worry about the mess you're making on him.

"Cum with me please." He moans at the sound of you whispering into his ear.

"Faster, baby." He says, almost making you cry at how awfully close you are to unraveling. You tug onto his hair, your head buried deep into his neck as you try and suck onto the surface, trying to find an outlet, some kind of release, until you let go. You suck harshly as you coat his cock with your cum, leaving a purple mark right at the base of his neck. You continue to ride out your high, rolling your hips sloppily as Jungkook finally lets himself go, his moan bouncing off of your walls as his seed fills you up warmly.

You stay in your position, slowly raising your head to cup his cheeks and kiss him deeply once more.

"Fuck, I love you." He says slightly pulling away.

"I love you too." You giggle.

"Didn't actually need any drinks to do this now, did we?" Jungkook jokes, softly pinching your hip.

"Shut up."

"Damn, you both couldn't even at least try to be quiet?!" Jimin yells from outside the door.

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pashminalamb · 3 years

Text

TEACHING THE TOMAN BOYS TO SKATEBOARD

Mikey, Draken and Baji

Tags : crude language and mentions of blood

Pairings : Mikey x reader, Draken x reader and Baji x reader (Baji's is fem!reader indicated)

They are in their third year

Here's part 2!

Mikey :

"Ne (Y/N) chan... let me ride that" mikey said as he pointed at your skateboard. "Do you know how to skate?" you asked as you looked from his pointed finger towards his face. "No" he responded as his eyes didn't look away from the skateboard beneath your feet. "Mikey... you could get hurt since you don't know how to use the board" you said in a calm and assuring tone. "But I still wanna try it" he half yelled in a childish manner as he turned his face away from you in an angry pout.

Thinking about it while placing your chin in your hand, what was the worse that could happen? You knew if he broke your board he would buy you a new one, but he was careful with your things to make sure that they remained in an intact condition.

After giving it some thought, you decided to let him ride your skateboard.

“Alright, but before we start” you said as you grabbed his hands, “we need to get you a helmet, kneepads, elbow pads and maybe gloves?”

“You’re so cute (Y/N) chan. But I don’t think I would be needing any of those… I know what it feels like to be hurt. I am a part of a gang after all” he said as he let go of your hands and pick up the skateboard. Using his foot, he kicked the ground and pushed the skateboard. You were mesmerized watching him skate. He didn’t seem to be a novice. Perfect balance, position and he also seemed to be having a decent speed. As he approached the rail, he was able to grind on it with the board. Sure, it wasn’t perfect… but it still surprised you to see how he was able to pull it off. You had seen a fair share of people failing at their sixth and seventh attempts or more while trying to pull off the grind rail.

“Leave your mouth open and you might catch flies in them (Y/N) chan” you heard a teasing remark come near you ear.

“How did you learn to do that” you said as you turned around to face Mikey.

“A leader never shares his secrets” he said as he placed a finger on his lips and smiled at you.

Bonus : Mikey likes sitting on the skateboard while moving it back and forth on the wheels. He also tells you or Draken to push it from behind. He has fallen asleep on/with your board several times when you both laid against the grass and stared into the sky, hearing the revving up of bike engines at a distance.

Draken :

“Oi. Why did you call me?” Draken asked in a loud voice as you flipped the skateboard with your foot. “Kenchin!” you said in surprise as you turned around to see the tall man behind you. “Don’t call me that!” he said as he titled his head in anger “Why’d you call me out here (Y/N)?”

“I thought we could skate? but if you don’t want to… we could do something else…” you mumbled as you pushed your skateboard back and forth with one foot. Draken noticed your softened eyes as you stared at the skateboard deep in thought. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have called him. He runs a gang for fucks sake. He doesn’t have time to put with your antics’. Your thoughts came to a halt as you saw a hand pick up the head of your skateboard.

“Yaruze” he said in a monotonous tone as he placed the skateboard under his foot. Grabbing the extra helmet, you brought with you, you shoved it into his hands.

“Hai hai. But before that we need to make sure that you’re secured and don’t have any injuries. Have you skated before?” you asked as you reached high to place the helmet on his head. He held you by your forearms and smirked down at you.

“I work in a gang woman. I know what it is like to get hurt” he said. He got on top of the skateboard and stood still, looking at you for further instruction.

“Okay… so… uh” you said shakily as you pointed towards the ground “put one foot on the ground and keep the other one on the board”

Draken put his left foot on the ground and kept his right foot on the board. “Now… use the foot on the ground to push the board”

Draken did as you told and pushed himself using his left foot while making sure to steady his weight on the board.

“Okay… now place your foot back on the board and relax your shoulders” you said as you jogged alongside him. He had wide strides as he skated. He had also picked up a fair speed which wasn’t bad for a beginner. “Yata!” Draken said with a smile as he continued to do as you told. You smiled and laughed beside him as you continued to run.

“Alright. I’m gonna do the hop” he said as he got ready to jump with the skateboard.

“Kenchin dame!”

Bonus :

You glared at Draken as you picked up your broken skateboard. He looked away in embarrassment as his cheeks turned pink.

The next day, you found a (f/c) skateboard wrapped in (f/c) ribbon on your seat.

“Evening 6:30. Don’t you dare be late” the note said in a scribbled handwriting. Chuckling you placed it folded into your pocket.

Baji

“Why the hell are we here?” Baji said as he looked at you with half lidded eyes.

“To skate Kei” you said with a laugh as you held your skateboard close to your ribs.

“I got that but why?” he said as he said as he titled his head and gave your skateboard a questioning look.

“Cause it’s fun?” you said in an inquisitive tone.

“Not for me. A skateboard can’t give me the adrenaline a bike gives. Neither can it give me the thrill of being hit back” he said in a monotonous tone.

“Not everything violent has to give you satisfaction Keisuke. Riding a bike needs fuel and an engine. The only thing you’re in control of is the handle, speed and balance. Skateboarding is different. You just have your feet and your body to do the math” you said as you held out your skateboard. “Why don’t you try it and see for yourself?” you asked with a small smile. He looked down at the skateboard in your hands before taking it into his, using his index finger to toy with the wheel. He looked at you with a bored expression.

“If you want it to be that thrilling, then don’t wear a helmet. I’m sure the ground can hit you as hard as any other opponent” you challenged him with a smirk.

“I’ll make sure you eat those damn words (Y/N)” he said as he tied his silky black hair into a ponytail and put the skateboard on the ground. Keisuke was not new to the concept of skating. He had seen them in playgrounds, may have grabbed one of them and used it as a weapon… it was complicated. He didn’t have a particular fascination with them as he merely viewed them as a child’s toy.

“Okay keisuke. Have you skated before?” you asked as you were ready to give him a set of instructions.

“Nah” he said as he kicked the skateboard, dragging it back with his foot.

“Alright. Keep one foot on the ground and the other on the board” you said while pointing at his feet and the ground, “whichever foot you’re comfortable with pushing goes on the ground”.

He did as you told.

“Now push” you said as he lifted his left leg and began to push.

“Okay… uh. Rest your shoulders and place one foot at the back of the board” you said as you ran by side. Unknowingly, Keisuke put the skate to stop by leaning too much of his weight towards the end of the skateboard and fell on his palms facing forward. You rushed towards him to make sure he was okay. Squatting beside him on the ground, you took one of his hands into yours and winced at the sight of broken skin and blood.

“Kuso” he smirked as he stared down at his palm.

“Told ya. You didn’t have the best start at this, but you did try" you said as he glared at you from the corner of his eye.

"Tell you what, meet me tomorrow at 9:00pm here” you said as you got up from the ground.

“For what?” Keisuke sneered as he looked up at you.

“You’ll see” you said as you gave him a peck on the cheek and got on your skateboard, heading towards your home.

“What in the world was she talking about…” he said as he walked off.

Keisuke waited for you at the designated spot.

“What the fuck is taking her so long” he said as he stared into the dark sky. “Kei!” he heard at a distance as you waved under the streetlight. You didn’t have your skateboard with you. You had a black one and it seemed to be old… but refurbished.

“(Y/N). You kept me waiting for 20 minutes. Now quit screwing around and show me what you got” he said as he glowered down at you.

“Calm down Kei” you said with a chuckle at his impatience as you set the skateboard down on the ground.

“Stand back” you said as stood a good amount of feet away from the rail. Keisuke gave you space by moving behind.

His eyes widened as you railed your skateboard and created sparks on the concrete brick.

“Wha-” he said as he stared you held the head of the skateboard and walked towards him.

“Had this customized and before you ask, yes. I can create fires too” you said as you smirked.

“Get better at skateboarding and maybe I’ll be willing to give you this” you said as you raised the skateboard.

“Koiyo”.

Bonus :

“Can you-”

“No keisuke. You can’t use knives to customize your skateboard” you said as you took a sip of juice.

“How about-”

“No”.

Notes :

Yaruze : Let's do it

Dame : Means Don't, no

kuso : Fuck/ shit (it's varying to be honest)

koiyo : Bring it on!

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finelinevogue · 3 years

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Can you do one where Harry take his children and YN to one of his concert and their just dancing around singing along on stage with Harry.

i love this concept so much!! i kinda of wanna make it sad though soooo it’s gonna be harry’s final show :/ hope you enjoy;

oli - 29, felix - 27, belle - 24

The concert had been amazing, but unfortunately it was coming to its’ end now.

The final show.

That’s what Harry had decided to call it; a clever play on words with reference to his first ever solo single. The last 50 years had been a rollercoaster for Harry, from growing up just a kid in Cheshire, to going on the X Factor and winning the hearts of millions and from being in the most successful band of the decade to going solo and still being absolutely beloved. Times had changed, though. Harry had changed. He had a beautiful family of 3 now, excluding his wonderful wife. His children were his universe, no question about it, but they were getting older now - Harry was getting older. He was 50 this year and with that in mind he’d decided to retire. Retiring had involved a long conversation with you, along with a bottle of red wine, about whether it was the right decision or not. But it was - is.

You had suggested he put on one final, massive show, to celebrate his life and his achievements along with all that the fans have too. Tickets were open internationally and it was being streamed on various TV outlets for those who couldn’t attend. The tickets sold within 47 seconds. 47 seconds. It was being held in the Olympic Stadium in London, because it was Harry’s home and it held the most number of people he could genuinely allow.

The concert had started with ‘Fine Line’ songs, which merged into HS1 songs with a few One Direction songs as well. The entire set list had been composed by the fans with various polls on social media, with the concert supposedly lasting 2 hours (although with support artists and a few extra surprises it was more likely going to be 3!)

It had been beautiful so far. Magical. Unforgettable.

Every chance he got, without making it grossly obvious, he looked at you. He'd told you to stick your thumbs up at him every time he caught your eye, so he knew that you were okay - and every time, you did.

The concert was coming to an end now, which everyone was dreading. How could +30 years feel like it'd only been thirty minutes? You were devastated, so you could only imagine what his fans were thinking.

"Hey!"

The end Kiwi, for the second time, strummed throughout the arena and you knew it was time for the final song. His final song.

"Mum, is this the end?" Belle asked you, from where she was standing next to you. You had been dancing together all night and gotten progressively more tired. Your feet hurt. Your throats burned. Yet, as always, it was so worth it.

"Yes, Belles, it is." You tell her, and she pouted sadly. "Dad won't want to see you sad love, okay? He can still sing to you before bed?" You teased her, reminding her of a time when Harry would do such a thing, not wanting her to be all sad. It was supposed to be a celebration, but even you could admit that is was pretty hard-hitting.

"Really mum?" She asked.

You booped her nose annoyingly, before answering. "Every night if you want him to."

The lights changed from their green tone, thanks to Kiwi, back to a bright, white light. It beamed on Harry, making him look even more like the angel that he is. He dragged his microphone back to the centre stage and took a deep breath for beginning a speech he'd told you he'd prepared.

"So this is it, my friends." He laughed sadly into the microphone. He brushed his hair back and took out his in-ears to hear the audience. They were all awwing and crying, but what else did you expect? Their favourite artist was retiring - who wouldn't be crying a river?

"I, um. I'd like to take a bit of time to thank certain people." He coughed, something he always did after performing Kiwi due to his asthma. You thought it was lovely that he'd planned a speech to thank his management and crew. They did so much work backstage and you definitely didn't think they got enough credit for their hard work.

"Okay. I've made a little list..." Harry pulled out a tiny bit of crumpled paper from his pocket. "Just in case I forget anyone." He joked to himself, but made everyone laugh anyways. "So I guess first off, I should start with you lovely people." He pointed around the whole stadium, showing he was talking about the fans. "What you have done for me is indescribable. I think to myself, everyday, am I worthy of even being here—"

"Yes!" An army of agreement echoed around the arena, making Harry stop, blush and smile to himself.

"Well thank you! Um. You have been the best fans ever, and I know you will continue to be. I know you don't owe me anything, but all I ask you to keep loving yourselves and treating people with kindness, because I know I can count on you lot to do that, for me." He sniffled at the end, making you bite your lip to prevent the tears from falling for you. He looked so vulnerable right now, but you knew he'd be feeling on top of the world.

"Jheez." He sniffles again. "That's one thank you down and i'm already crying." He looked to his band to share the joke with.

“Dad’s such a wuss.” Oli laughed, holding his arm around Beas waist, making the people around you chuckle in agreement.

“Shut up you - Mr-tears-in-your-eyes!” You pointed out, laughing as he flipped you the bird - which then got him a hit off his grandma Anne.

All of Harrys family and friends were here, in a special cornered off section. It was such a thoughtful thing for Harry to do. All his family, and a fair few of yours, were sat down along with Harrys closest friends. Everyone was sharing laughs and drinks, whilst using every inch of space to dance along to your husbands boastful music.

"Secondly, my touring family. From Jeff and Ben, to Sarah's Kitchen, Adam, Mitch, Sarah, Charlotte and Nyoh, not forgetting everyone backstage and behind the lights, music and cameras. You've all been the greatest. Everything you do is second to none. You're all talented, warm-hearted, people whom I will carry in my heart forever. Thank you." You noticed members of the crew and band starting to tear up now.

"Moving on to my boys. We've been through it all, lads, and I couldn't have asked for four better brothers than you all. Louis. Liam. Niall. Zayn. Thank you." Everyone cheered ten times louder, maybe because this was as close to a One Direction reunion as the fans were ever going to get, but definitely because Harry had mentioned Zayn. You saw a girl faint at the mere mention of all the boys in the same sentence. The boys lifted up their beers to Harry, stood close by to where you were standing.

"I guess I should say thank you to the women who made all this possible. Mum. Gem. Thank you for signing me up all those years ago. Thank you for believing in me. You've made me the - crap, sorry! - the man I am now and I love you both." Harry prayed to them both, whilst bowing, and swiftly wiped away the tears afterwards. Anne and Gemma, on the other hand, were proudly crying.

"Ol, Fix and Belles. You rascals make me get out of bed every morning and give me more of a purpose in life. You four give me so much joy and happiness. I love you all, even if you do drive me up the wall on an early Saturday morning! Thank you, my loves." You stood close to all your children, giving them the support they needed in this moment. Belle was crying against your chest, the ever-so-emotional woman she was. Felix was stood up, with Heather, with his drink raised to his dad. Oli was to your side, trying to remain cool and stoic, but you still caught the tears that ran down his face.

"Now." The audience calmed down again after awing over your babies. Harry cleared his throat before beginning again. "This evening keeps on reminding me of a very special person in my life. Someone who is my everything and that's my beautiful wife, Y/N." His words make your breath hitch in your throat. You never expected him to say anything about you. I mean, what had you done?

"Mum." Belle called out to you, in affirmation that this was real.

"She's more than just a wife. She's a lover. She's my muse. She's my best-fucking-friend, apologises for swearing but sue me. I was hesitant to let go of all this, at first. What would I do with myself now? You know? People tell me i'm 'happiest on stage', and for a time that was true. Until I met Y/N. She's made me realise that family makes me the happiest. She makes me the happiest." He jumped down off stage, taking the microphone with him. He ran his hands along the fans in the front row, but had no intention of stopping until he met you.

You felt Belle leaving your side, but you were too captivated by Harry to fully understand what was happening.

"So what am I going to do now, you ask? Well..." Harry cheekily smiled at you. "I'm going to make her the happiest woman alive, just as she makes me the happiest man." You began to cry again and the chorus of thousands of fans clapping and screaming surrounds you, only to all stop when his lips meet yours. He tasted like a combination of salty sweat and mint, but he was home. After a minute of crying, kissing and 'i love yous' , Harry ran back to the stage before Jeff could shoot him.

"Thank you all. All my love." He said whilst adjusting his microphone. "Please sing along if you know the words." He asked, full well knowing every single person will be screaming out the lyrics to him.

"Just stop you're crying it's the sign of the times. Welcome to the final show. Hope you're wearing your best clothes."

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mollrat101 · 2 years

Text

Ava and Deborah’s High School Reunion (Actually its Ava’s, but They’re Sharing Cause They’re Married Now)

I’m not very confident writing fiction, so here I present to you a strange mix of both fiction ideas and my meta commentary about this fic idea that I can’t bring myself to actually write like a normal story without letting my perfectionism get in the way. If other people might enjoy this idea, even if I don’t have the writing skills to quite tackle it, well it’s still worth sharing. Enjoy my…whatever this is.

If my math is right it seems like Ava was born in 1996 and so she would’ve graduated high school in 2014. This story is set in 2024 (duh) and Ava and Deborah have already been married for like a year and a half now.

Here I’m going to post a part 1 and if other people seem to like it, I can write the rest of it. I have an idea of how I want it to go, but still in the brainstorming phase. Let me know what you think! *runs and hides after I post*

It all starts when Deborah finds an invitation for Ava’s 10 year high school reunion in the trash.

Yes, Deborah is pretty struck again by the fact that she’s married to someone who hasn’t even turned 30 yet, but also she suspects Ava is in a mood now. Anything high school related was a sore spot and bound to make her grumpy for the rest of the day.

Deborah doesn’t think high school reunions matter, but she also thinks that maybe revisiting things might be therapeutic (ugh, therapy still kind of freaks her out but she also now knows that sometimes facing difficult things in the past can be good) for Ava. Ava convinced her to take a trip down memory lane to Berkeley which with any other person would’ve ended in Deborah feeling worse, but Ava always had that special ability to make once unbearable things feel more bearable. As much as she loved Ava, she also however knew she could be a huge hypocrite hence the oat milk splashed reunion invitation. The past could be hard, nobody understood that better than Deb, but rejecting it outright might not be the best way.

She talks to her Ava in her own little room in Deborah’s mansion. It’s the only place in the mansion that 1) Ava is allowed to be as messy as she wants as long as she keeps it confined to this room (Ava only partially kept that promise. She would find her post-it notes scattered across the house. I learned that Jane Wagner does that and so I couldn’t resist including that.) and 2) she’s allowed to confine her bad taste in interior decoration to this room. The room is quintessentially Ava. Deborah loves it, she hates it, she doesn’t spend much time in as it’s where Ava goes to find solitude. Deborah is a gift giver but Ava annoyingly doesn’t really want things, so she’s very proud of the antique typewriter she bought Ava and taught her how to use. Ava claimed that this was great because she could avoid some of the distractions of writing on her laptop. Well how she eloquently put it was actually pointing both thumbs at herself and saying “This bitch is going analog!” Deborah has made her choice of partner, she thinks, and she must live with it.

Deborah tries to gently talk her into it. Ava’s not pleased by the idea. Even less pleased by Deborah bringing up their Berkeley trip. Like she said, hypocrite.

Deb tries a new tactic. She invites Kiki and DJ (two people who love Ava almost as much as she does) to brunch with her and Ava. Ava loves brunch. She says it’s the gayest meal of the day. Deb had to admit she had a point. She doesn’t like to get up early, but she’ll get her ass up for mimosas.

Kiki is as effervescent as ever and trying to encourage Ava that high school reunions can be fun. Ava rightly says Kiki’s high school experience was probably more pleasant. Okay, fair.

Deb doesn’t know why she trusted DJ to help her with this in retrospect. As soon as Ava’s reunion was even mentioned, DJ immediately wanted to poke fun. She pretended to wipe a tear, “Stepmoms grow up so fast. Right before your eyes.” She’s definitely putting in the worth of those bottomless mimosas. Ava gave her a very maternal middle finger back to her.

“Mom, don’t force her if she doesn’t want to go. I mean high school sucks. No one actually wants to relive it. Reunions are just people trying to pretend they miss their high school years.” She takes another bite of crepe, flakes falling from her lips. “Luckily,” she points her fork between them, “I don’t really remember high school.” Yeah, “luck”.

She is not forcing Ava, she’s encouraging her, there’s a difference. Besides Ava is just as strong-willed as her, she can’t force her to do shit.

“I’m so glad you and I didn’t go to high school together,” DJ continues to Ava. “You are exactly the type of girl that I would’ve tie to the flagpole in her underwear and wrote ‘SLUT’ on her forehead.” She gestures to Ava with her fork currently holding a piece of her strawberry crepe. “I was a very angry teenager. And I love you too much to do that.”

In DJ speak this was huge and Ava knew that. “Thank you” she said quietly.

Bless Kiki for still trying to salvage what has turned out to be a very bad idea.

She gently holds Ava’s hand across the table. “Pancake, I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Luna before she went to Kindergarten. Gently assert your awesomeness and friends will follow. Don’t let doo-doo heads dull your sparkle.”

All that can be heard now is the last slurps of DJ’s 3rd mimosa.

“But if being gentle about it don’t work, shove that Emmy of yours in their face, show off your hot glamorous wife,” she turns to Deborah and in turn Deborah toasts to that, “and fly off in a helicopter and Romey and Michele that bitch.”

“I don’t understand that reference,” Deb started, Kiki and Ava gasp in shock at that (wouldn’t be the first time, not the last time), “but ‘hear, hear!’”

Ava smiles tentatively at that suggestion. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Yeah…yeah. I’ll go.” Kiki clapped her hands excitedly. Deborah gave a warm smile. DJ just nodded politely: she didn’t really have a dog in this fight.

Biggest hurdle overcome, but Ava still had some caveats. They’re not staying with Nina. Thought that would’ve been obvious, but okay.

Two, she wanted to bring Bruno because (according to Ava) he was her emotional support animal. Not legally, but that’s how she saw him. Helped with her anxiety.

Again, Ava annoyingly is tough to buy for, so in their one-year anniversary, Deborah simply asked her what is something she’s always wanted. Apparently it was as simple as a dog because having any kind of pet around Nina when she was a kid was a no-go. Mr. Creampie was a very strange turn, but Ava supposes her mother can sometimes surprise her. Just like she was pleasantly surprised that Nina eventually became her and Deborah’s biggest supporters despite being bewildered and horrified in the beginning. Having Deborah Vance as your daughter-in-law though can’t help but grow on you. It’s both a bragging point and difficult to resist Deborah’s charm. Ava should know.

But anyway, on their anniversary, Deborah took her to the local shelter and it was as simple as that. Ava fell completely in love with a 5-year old bloodhound named Bruno (yes, named after the dog in Cinderella. I’m a sap, leave me alone, I love him). “He saved the day and doesn’t he look like a good, brave boy?” And the feeling was totally mutual, Bruno rarely left her side, except to sometimes be used as a pillow by Barry and Cara. Ava loved Barry and Cara, but it was nice to have a pet of her own. Despite Deb’s slight hesitant to having such a big dog, Bruno was so gentle and loving that he fit right into their family.

This was more than fine with Deborah because this gave her an excuse to take Barry and Cara as well and not have to hire a dog sitter. Bruno would not have taken well to not seeing Ava for 3 days anyway, so she didn’t want to get an unpleasant surprise of how he tore up the house while they were gone in his distress.

Ava can see how far she’s come. She knows she’s never been so happy in her life and she wouldn’t trade her life for anything. But you know how you go back to your parents or people you knew when you were younger…and you just fall right back into that head space? It’s like you can’t even help it, it just happens. Things between Ava and Nina have gotten a lot better and Ava could even admit she was looking forward to seeing her mother. But Ava hadn’t seen anyone from high school since she graduated, outside of sometimes letting her curiosity win out on Facebook. She’s scared she’ll become that insecure, lonely girl again without even meaning to. Facing some people who either ignored her or hurt her. Deborah knew her better than anyone had ever bothered to get to know and yet she couldn’t help a small part of her that said that Deborah was going to walk through these painful memories with her and come out knowing for certain that Ava was a loser. She was beginning to think this was a bad idea, if her head was spiraling that her wife was going to leave her just because they went to her high school reunion.

But was not facing that pain really going to be any better? Isn’t that the same exact argument she made for Deborah when they made their trip to Berkeley? Ava had never felt more honored to be let into a part of Deborah’s world. It was the most solemn trip they had ever done, but Ava wouldn’t have changed any of it. Every step of the way, she let Deb have her space, let her feel however she felt. A lot of it was just sad and at some points, Deborah just felt like talking was pointless. But sometimes she told her funny or even some happy stories. There wasn’t anything she saw that made her love Deborah less, quite the contrary.

Distance could make some painful things more bearable. Even more bearable if you had someone you love there. She could do this. Hell, she might even have fun.

…Right?

#hacks hbo #hbo hacks #hacks #ava daniels #deborah vance #deborah x ava #avadeb

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shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean · 3 years

Text

ONLY WANT YOU.

Pairing : Shawn Mendes × reader

Genre : Angst, smut, fluff

Warnings : Swearing, Daddy kink, thigh riding, unprotected sex, dom!Shawn, Self depreciation(very mild), oral (male receiving)

Summary : The reader and Shawn have an intense argument and then Shawn let's the reader know who's the one he wants.

You were more than worried now. It had been precisely 2 hours 14 minutes since Shawn left. You really managed to send him over the edge. You didn't want to. You didn't mean it. But you can't help it when all of the world is pining for what's not true. He's yours but no, everyone wants him and camila to be together.

Camila was such a lovely lady. You couldn't help but feel insecure. She was everything you'd want to be. Hell, she was beautiful and the worst part you wanted to hate her but you couldn't. She had that aura.

You and Shawn were in it for long. That's what you thought at least. You knew he was the one for you. And you believed you were too for him until recently.

Ever since the PR began after Senorita was out you couldn't help but question everything. Your bond with Shawn seemed to weaken. You found yourself distancing from him. You didn't want to. You never did. Everytime you saw an article in some shitty tabloid your breath got caught. You felt you couldn't breathe. You knew it was fake but guess these two were really good actors cause it didn't seem unreal it to you.

You tried to calm yourself. Remind yourself you were overanalysing the sitch. He is your boyfriend. He will be home soon. Then you can be in his strong arms and feel safe and secure. But none of it worked.

All this while, since the PR managers suggested this, Shawn had made sure to get you involved. Let you be a part of everything that's been happening or is going to in future. Make sure you're comfortable with it. And boy, did you say yes cause you didn't wanna hold him down. But now when he was not with you for the holidays, when he had to fly out every weekend to Miami you felt your nerves kick in.

You hated yourself for being such a hypocrite. Shawn never once made you feel secluded but your overthinker ass ravaged everything.

You were certain he hated you now. This was the longest you two had gone without talking after that intense a fight.

Shawn was back home after three months. You were so excited for him to be with you for a whole week now, until you saw that article. You knew it meant nothing but seeing your boyfriend sticking his tongue down another women's throat got the best of you. You didn't think it was going to affect you so bad when you said yes to the whole PR stuff but now you just didn't know how to feel.

You never told Shawn when your anxiety kicked in seeing him with her because you didn't want to seem like a hypocrite. But weren't you one?

You just suffered quietly. Tried to let it pass. It'd end soon. That's how you always calmed your raging nerves. You became quieter. Stopped being your bubbly self when Shawn called. He obviously noticed. He knew you better than you yourself. He just couldn't figure the issue cause you had so convincingly persuaded him to believe you were fine with it all.

"Hun, I'm home. " Shawn said as he closed the door after settling his luggage beside the shoe cabinet right at the entrance of your shared apartment.

When he got no response he was stressed. He expected you to pounce on him as soon as he opened the gate but there was no sign of you.

He kicked his shoes off and then remembered how it'd annoy you so much, laughed to himself and went back to put them in the cabinet before calling out for you again.

"Y/N, baby I'm home. "

He checked the living room. You weren't there. The kitchen next. No sign of you anywhere. He didn't expect you to be asleep cause it was just 7 and you were a night owl getting all pumped with energy as the clock hit 6 pm. This was your best time of the day and Shawn certainly had decided to make the best of it but you were nowhere to be found.

He wouldn't lie he was disappointed when you didn't fling yourself into his arms and peppered his face with cute wet kisses and were all clingy and lovey with him. He missed you so much.

He went to your bedroom, your shared room. Checked the whole house but there was no sign of you. He felt all that excitement dial down.

He decided to call you, obviously.

You didn't pick up.

He was worried now. He called your best friend cause you usually liked to hangout with her at evenings like this, discussing your medical school stuff and just chilling at times. She didn't pick up either. He called your mom and she told him that you were out with Y/F/N and she thought that he already knew.

Shawn was more than upset. He felt a little angry because you had been acting so not yourself and this was the least he could expect from you. There was something wrong obviously but why wouldn't you talk to him. Every time he tried to talk, you'd just make some excuse. He was tired now and this was what sent him over the edge. He tried calling you after an hour again. Just to get back a text saying "I'll be home late. Dinner's in the fridge. Don't wait for me. "

He was pissed off. Really bad.

You came home around 10:30 at night. You knew this wasn't fair to Shawn. After you saw that article you just couldn't. You had to let some seam off. Y/F/N called you and asked you if you'd wanna come to a small party they were throwing for Tom, a batchmate of yours Shawn had a huge disliking towards. Tom had asked you out cause he didn't know you had a boyfriend and he made it very clear that he liked you a lot. Shawn didn't take that well, obviously. He hated Tom's guts.

You wanted to get on his nerves after seeing the article. So you did.

You put on your sexiest one piece Shawn got for you year on your graduation day. The nerve of you. You informed your mom cause you knew Shawn would call her as you didn't plan on picking up his phone.

You opened the door with your key. The click noise made Shawn wake up from his light slumber.

You knew you had pulled off real shit and well consequences weren't gonna be good.

As you went inside. You saw the food was out on the counter but untouched. Shawn was in the living room, glaring at you.

"Where were you, Y/N? " He asked you with a voice dangerously low sending chills down your spine.

But heh you had enough liquid courage to be a douche at this point.

"Hello to you too. " You said in a rude tone.

"I said where the fuck were you, Y/N? It's been three goddamn hours. I have been so stressed what the hell is wrong with you. You didn't even care to tell me yourself. What the fuck?" He snapped at you moving towards you in the kitchen where you were pouring some water for yourself.

" I was at Tom's birthday party with Y/F/N." You said non chalantly.

His eyes shot up. Going wide.

" So you decided to go to that fucker's party instead of being with me. I'm home after three fucking months for fuck's sake." He yelled from across the counter.

You flinched hearing his tone but snapped right back. "Well what am I supposed to do Shawn? Sit here like a fool while you stick your tongue down her throat. All I see are pictures of you two making out every fucking where so am I just supposed to fucking wait for you after getting ten thousand notifications showing my boyfriend and his fucking girlfriend!? "

He took in a deep breath as if to not do anything wrong. The change on his face was scary. He just went from angry and worried to nothing. His face went expressionless. The tension getting thicker with every passing second.

You realised how wrong you were instantly. Hands flying to cover your mouth. " Shawn, i-... I am.. I didn't mean it. Bab-"

"You fucking meant it, Y/N. I can't even. You've got to be kidding me. " He took his Jeep's keys and headed for the gate. You tried to stop him by touching his shoulder but the look he gave you made you feel disgusted with yourself. He slammed the gate as he went out. Tears made their way down your cheeks smudging all your make up.

You sank down right where you were beside the kitchen counter. You hated yourself in this moment more than you ever had. The one person who always put your needs first, cared for you more than himself, you managed to make him hate you. You were certain he did.

You ran took your phone called Shawn. Over and over again. 5 calls went unanswered. You were perturbed. Didn't know what to do. Didn't know where he could be. You wanted to just be in his arms. You didn't deserve it but you felt home. His arms were your home. And you just ruined it all. Your baseless insecurities did.

You sat there helpless, loathing yourself. You don't know when sleep took over you. When you woke up it was 12. You got up in haste, drowning in worry. It had been an hour and a half since he left. You called him again and again to no avail. You lost the best thing you ever had and you knew you wouldn't be able to live with yourself after what you did.

You decided leaving was the best. He anyway wouldn't want you near him. Shawn deserved the world. He deserved the best. And then there was you who gave him nothing but hurled insults at him.

Tears didn't stop flowing at a point you felt you didn't have anymore left but you were wrong. You went up to your bedroom. Taking out a suitcase. You didn't want to bother him more. You weren't worth it.

You put in your essentials in the bag, moving to the closet after that. You changed into one of your hoodies. It was his. All of your clothes were basically his. You needed to wear them to feel home when he wasn't around. He loved them on you but now you weren't so sure. You anyway did it. One hoodie wouldn't upset him.

As you were done packing you checked the time it was over 2 hours. You wanted to die right at this moment. Shawn was not picking up your calls. You called Geoff earlier, he had no idea where Shawn was. Now you decided to call Karen. You didn't know what to do. You had already asked Andrew if Shawn was at the studio. You didn't want to stress everywhere cause Shawn didn't get mad easily but when he did it was bad. Extremely bad.

Just as you were about to call Karen you felt yourself being turned around, moved towards the closet door, a pair of strong arms pulling you and then his warm swollen lips being attached to yours. You melted right then. You didn't know how to respond. You couldn't believe it. Were you dreaming? But as you let it sink in, it was your Shawn kissing you. His smell invaded your senses making you feel alive again. Those lips moulded with yours felt like heaven. Tears made their way out of your eyes again. Lips starting to move against his. Hands going into his hair tugging at it as he devoured you. You didn't realize he was crying too until you opened your eyes. His eyes blood shot, cheeks tear stained. You hated you were the reason for his disheveled state. You hated yourself.

You broke the kiss. Not being able to look him in the eyes. Trying to catch your breath.

After a few minutes of total silence you figured this was goodbye. You started moving towards your suitcase.

As he saw what you were doing he let out a loud groan. He wanted to knock some sense into you and he decided he will.

He held your arm pulling you towards himself, asking with a hoarse voice "Where do you think you are going? "

"I'm sorry, Shawn. I just....you deserve better. I'll leave, I wanted to ask you if I can take this one hoodie? If you want it back I understand. I just didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean anything I said earlier. It just I was a little drunk you know it's I'm so terribly sorry. " You rambled didn't realising when you started sobbing.

You felt his arms wrap around you. Engulfing you in a loving hug. You broke down. He was still being so considerate when all you did was break his heart.

"Shush honey. Y/N, I am right here. You're not going anywhere."

"I am sorry. So sorry. I-.. I'll leave. "

"Baby, I said you are not going anywhere. I need you hun. You remember, it's forever." He said in his beautiful voice showing you his promise ring. The one you got him three months back. Just before he left.

You looked up at him through your crys. You wanted to see if he hated you or not. He could lie to you but his eyes could never. To your surprise all you saw was worry and love. A sense of relief washed over you. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding all this while.

"I love you baby. We are okay. I'm sorry I shouldn't have left like this."

"No no no Shawn. You.. I.... I'm so fucking terrible. I didn't mean anything earlier. I just wanted to I don't know I'm a fool. I was so scared I lost you forever. I'm so sorry. I love you so much. "

"No bub, I get where you're coming from. I understand. Just seeing you go to his birthday party made my blood boil. Seeing me with Camila, making out, holding hands I get it. I'm sorry. You should have told me, Y/N. I always wanted you to be comfortable with it. Although I shouldn't have put you in that spot when I know you won't ever say anything that's not in favour of my career. "

" I just didn't wanna hold you back, Shawn. I knew it was important but seeing you with her I just can't help but compare myself to her. I'm so pathetic. I hate myself. "

" Hey don't you ever say that about my baby. She's the best. Okay? Most beautiful, most caring, loving, selfless and she has the best legs. Her ass is so sexy. Her curves. Those lips I never wanna let go off. " He said his hands on your ass massaging it. You let out a low moan. It had been so long.

You wanted Shawn more than anything . His head dipped down to your neck, your head falling back. It felt unreal to be this close to him again. Especially after that sick stunt you pulled off.

He bit you at your soft spot and you jumped in his arms making him chuckle. He licked it to soothe it and you moaned. Not being able to control how overwhelmed you were after months of no physical contact with him.

"By the way that dress, baby. Not a smart move wearing it to Tom's birthday party, was it? " He said as his hands creeped up inside your hoodie sending shivers up your spine.

You just moaned in response only to receive a light tug at your bum.

"Words, honey. Use your words with me. " He said in that deep voice making your knees turn into jelly.

"Yes daddy. It was so stupid of me. Sorry daddy. " You said in your most innocent voice. Eyes looking glossy.

Shawn literally lost it there. Letting out a low growl. " Fuck Y/N." He turned you around. Making you face the mirror on your vanity. Your ass pressed onto his front. You could feel him already getting hard against your thigh. "Say it again." He commanded in a low voice. So you did feeling yourself getting wet. The pool in your panties becoming larger. "Mmm Daddy." You moaned as he moved your hair onto one side tilting your head so that he could assault your neck again. He knew how much you loved it when he did this.

"You know I wanted to take you right when you entered the house. Looking so pretty in that dress. Daddy got so worked up, baby. Only if you weren't being an annoying little brat." He said bringing his hand on your left boob cupping it under your hoodie.

"No bra? You're being very naughty I see."

"Sorrrryyy daddy. Sorry for being a little brat. I need you, daddy." You couldn't take his assault anymore. You whined. You just wanted him to fuck you into oblivion. Wanted him to be rough with you. Wanted to be close to him. As close that even air couldn't get in between the two of you.

"My hun is eager, I see. What do you want honey?" He asked.

"Want daddy to fuck me. Hard." You answered. Your eyes closed as he played with your tits. You could already feel yourself dripping on your thigh.

"Fuck baby. Getting daddy so hard huh? But do you deserve it after what you did."

"No daddy I have been bad. Very bad." You said. Extremely excited for what was in store for you. Shawn being a little rough and dominant always got you in the mood no matter when and where. That was his effect. The fact that only you got to see this side of the otherwise always a sweetheart gentle giant Shawn worked wonders on you. You loved it and he knew that.

"Hmm so kitten what is your punishment then?" Shawn whispered in your left ear. Making goosebumps arise on your body.

"Spanks, daddy. I have to count."

"Mm look at you being so good. How many do you deserve baby? "

"6 daddy? "

"Isn't that very less for what you did hun? Make it 10."

"Okay daddy."

He tugged at your hands as an indication for you to raise them so that he could take off his large hoodie of you. Leaving you only in your black lace panties. Looking at your almost naked body, Shawn couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips. Hands immediately cupping both your boobs. "So beautiful kitten."

"Thank you, daddy."

He proceeded on to take off his shirt. His biceps flexing in the process making your mouth water. You still were in a haze. This man, literally Adonis was yours? How'd you get so lucky? His flawless skin. The little hair peppering his chest. The defined pecs. His abs. You didn't even realise you were gawking at him. Literally with your mouth open. A chuckle brought you back to reality. Getting flushed instantly.

"Mmm definitely enjoying what you see hun. Come here." He said sitting at the edge of the bed opening his legs so that you could bend over his thighs. You did as told.

"Want these off baby. " He tugged at your panties. Before you could even move to get them off. He ripped them apart in half as if it was nothing. You got wetter if that was possible.

"Now bend." He said. You did as told. You bent over his lap.

"Count baby." He growled as his hand slapped your right ass cheek. A loud moan leaving your lips. "One."

Another spank at the same place. Making it become an angry red. "Two." You whined.

Shawn saw your wetness dripping down your thighs forcing a strangled moan out of him. His fingers immediately going to your freshly shaved pussy lips. "You are enjoying this so much kitten? " He asked as his fingers dipped in your folds, you almost screaming at the sudden action, then he took them in his mouth. You sublimated right that moment. If this wasn't the hottest thing you'd ever seen you didn't know what was. You felt pure bliss.

Still in that euphoria you didn't realize how time passed and his hand came in contact with your ass again. Harder than before.

"Three." You cried. Your ass blood red. Tears threatening to fall out of your eyes any second. Just for a second Shawn's demeanor faltered. He seemed to be having second thoughts. He couldn't hurt you. His hand soothingly titillating the area.

You, as if, read his thoughts and told him to continue. "It hurts so good, daddy." That was all he needed. "You're doing so good kitten. Just two more." With that his hand came down again not so hard this time. You moaned, loving the burning sensation.

He repeated the same with your left cheek. You started to cry by the time he was done. He took you in his arms. Making you face him. Straddling his lap. "Did so good for me baby." You rested your head on his shoulder. Your bare pussy against the rough fabric of his jeans. His thick thighs clenching. And you started to grind your self on his thigh. You didn't even realise when. The pleasure seeming to only increase with each thrust of your hips. You let out a moan at the same time as Shawn, it's what made reality dawn upon you. Your actions halted thinking he'd want to punish you, maybe.

When you looked into his eyes, they were darker than before, almost black, filled with insatiable hunger. A wave of confidence hit you. Your movements resumed. Your pace a little faster now. Your hands made way around his neck, wrapping them for support as he held you by your waist. His eyes boring into yours, you felt yourself melt. "I want you to get off my thigh, Y/N. Don't stop until you cum." He said in a voice that was enough to do it for you. He sounded so fucking sexy you couldn't even make sense of it. "Okay daddy." With that you increased your pace. His toned muscles flexing with your movements. It felt like heaven. You felt the fire burn in you. That familiar pit. Shawn kept on cooing filthy things in your ear sending you over the edge even faster. You held onto him for dear life as you came, nails digging in his skin. This was different. The way he responded to your actions. It felt unreal. It was beyond amazing.

"Felt so good daddy." You said as you went to kiss him. He captured your lips with his, kissing you with burning passion. You poured all your apologies, how ashamed you were of your unreasonable behavior, your unconditional love for him, all in that kiss. It conveying more than you could vocally have.

"Look at you hun, ruined daddy's pants huh? Looked like a goddess getting off of my thigh. You like it?"

"Loved it daddy. I love 'em."

He wrapped your legs around his waist as if you weighed nothing, standing up. He threw you on the bed. Taking his pants off along with his boxers. His thick member sprang out of the confines hitting his abdomen making the most unholy noise. You almost gasped at how terribly hard he was. It must be painful.

You scooted closer to him on the bed, reaching the edge. "Can I taste you, daddy? "

"Fuck. Go ahead baby."

"Mmm okay." You said as you reached for him. Getting in between his thighs. Making him sit on the bed and getting on your knees on the floor. You wanted to make him feel just as good as you felt. And boy were you determined.

You took his length in your hands. Spreading the precum all over it and your lips pulling out a pornographic moan off him. He stared at you in awe. Looking so pretty with his cock in your hands, on your knees for him. So wet, your juices dripping everywhere. It was nasty and he loved it.

You took his balls in your mouth, caressing his cock, all the prominent veins and the angry red tip making you salivate. You started running your hands up and down him. Sucking his balls. "Fuck honey, so good. Go on." He caressed your hair. "Always so good for me." You released his balls from your mouth with a pop sound and licked his underside from the base to the tip, feeling each vein. You took his tip in your mouth making him almost stop breathing. "Such a good girl, Y/N. Doing amazing." He moaned. It felt like music to your ears. You finally took him all in. He let out a loud whine. The warmth of your mouth making him dizzy. You started moving your head faster, almost releasing him fully then taking as much of him as you could until he hit the back of your throat. You loved giving Shawn a head. Hell you loved doing everything to him. Anything you did for him, with him was automatically your favorite. You felt what a dumbass you were to even think of leaving him. He's the best thing that has happened to you ever. He's your present and your future. You can't let yourself ruin that. Shawn abruptly stopped you. Pulling himself out of your mouth. You gave him a confused look. "What's wrong, Shawn?" "Not gonna last long, baby. Wanna feel you. Be inside you. Come here." He scooped you in his arms. Made you lay on the bed facing the vanity mirror. He came up beside you. His large body engulfing you as he spooned you. You reached down taking him in your hands, not being able to take anymore teasing. You needed him in you. Wanted to feel full again. It almost felt like the first time today. Your emotions all over the place, being so raw. You loved every microsecond of it. You lined him with yourself, almost about to take him in when Shawn took control. "Calm down. You know Y/N, good girls don't behave like this." "Sorry." You mumbled grumpily. His hand wrapped around your throat. Pressing lightly. Fuck, you got wetter if that was humanely even possible. You felt you might cum right then. "Sorry, what honey? Be good." "Sorry Daddy." "Mmm better." He said as he rubbed his tip at your slit. Teasing you like always. "So wet for me, honey. You've ruined all the sheets." You just moaned loudly in response incapable of forming a coherent sentence. He slowly pushed inside you. He was so fucking big. It hurt. He stretched you out so well. Relief washing you over. Feeling him in you made you feel complete. He stilled once he was inside letting you adjust. "Move baby? " He asked. "Mmm fuck. Yes daddy." You said.

His hand moved from your throat to your clit, rubbing you as he fucked you hard from behind. Your eyes started to close which as soon as he noticed he stopped. You whined so loudly at this it was almost shocking for you. "Open your eyes, baby if you want me to continue. Watch us in the mirror. Watch how daddy fucks you so good." And you saw the most obscene sight. His one hand rubbing your clit. You could see his cock move in and out of you. Other hand on your left boob pressing it hard. You couldn't help but whimper at the beautiful view. So dirty. You loved it.

His pace got faster as he dipped his neck into the crook of your neck leaving hickeys. Your hand reaching back holding onto his arm. Your nails scratching him, digging into his skin.

The feeling of bliss took over you as you yelled "I'm going to cum, Shawn." "Come for me, honey. I'm gonna cum too." His pace faltered becoming slower. He was close too. He rubbed your little nub faster, the nerves started burning at his assault.

"Aaah fuck fuck fuck daddy." With that you came all over him, him following you almost instantly. He let out a grunt as he came inside you, filling you up. Riding you both to the end of your orgasms.

He stayed like that for a few minutes. Not moving at all. Then he pulled out of you. Getting up to go to the bathroom like he always did. He came back with a wet towel, cleaning you up so gently. Then he cleaned himself up with the same towel. And you don't know but this always felt so intimate to you. More than all that you guys just did. Him cleaning you both up with the same towel made your heart flutter. You were so fallen for him you didn't know yourself.

He came back after dumping the towel with the dirty laundry.

As soon as he came to bed, you snuggled into his chest. He was your home. You felt so safe. No one could hurt you with him there. Not even you, yourself. He'd protect you.

A single tear slipped from your eye as you both lay in comfortable silence cuddled with each other. As he noticed it, in the sweetest voice ever he said "It's okay baby. You don't have to even think about what happened earlier, again. I knew it'd affect you badly and I still went for it. I knew if I asked you, you'd never say no. So it was me taking you for granted, hun. You're not at fault. It was me, baby. I put you in that spot."

"Oh shut up, Mendes. Always making me seem so good. It was my and only my fault. Don't you dare blame it on yourself. And I'm so so sorry. I won't ever doubt what we have. It's the most real thing I have felt in my whole 22 years of existence. I love you so much, words can't even express it."

"But you do in other ways. You know." He smirked making you roll your eyes, nudging him lightly in his chest.

"You riding my thigh was the most fucking hot view ever. Trust me, I almost came."

"Oh shut it and let me sleep." You said all flustered about what you did.

"One last thing, baby. "

"Hmm? "

"You're the only one I want. "

You cuddled more into him finally being able to fall asleep soundly in your home.

Taglist: @monikamendes @holland-styles @bvttercupbby @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @shawn-youth @itsalwaysbeen305 @perfectlywrongsm @particularnarry @wholesomemendes @myboyshawn @myboyshawnie @imaginashawnns @camilalewiss @swiftmendeshoran @princecharmingmendes @fallinallincurls @glitterypositivityforaesthetic @shawnpetermuffins @stylesharrys @shawnblanc @shawn-mendes-thirst @shawnftchris @lonelyreputation

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And How'd you guys like the shot? I'd really appreciate if you all leave feedbacks. Thank you lovelies! ❣

#shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes angst #Shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #benito-mi-vida #shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes× reader #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn×yn #shawn and camila #only want you

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