#I mean you pay so much money for the privilege of smelling bad and having black lung?

[edenorisshitposting]

We don't tell smokers they're lame often enough

[gashinabts]

Camera Boy (m)| Part I

Words:4.5k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, MATURE, 18+

Summary: Jungkook loves filming. Jungkook takes up your offer on filming you throughout the day...and night.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, hair pulling, sex filming, slapping tits and ass, degradation, humiliation kink, mention of public sex, teasing, slut is mentioned a lot. 

A/N: I haven’t posted in like months. I’m sorry for the lack of posting I haven’t been in the right mental state at the moment. I promise I will be posting more!! Thank you for the people who comment and like my fics.  It really means a lot for me!!!! Yoongi, Jungkook, & Reader are the same age (18). There will be THREE parts to this :))))

Part 1 2 3

*** This is my work, no reposting this and my other works on any other platforms. I do NOT take plagiarism lightly.  

Jungkook is a quiet guy, who spends his time filming and editing videos. He is in the audiovisual club and was always seen around school with his Panasonic Lumix gh5 filming the school events since he was also part of the year book club. Not many of his classmates knew him by his name but as JK, even during roll call teachers would call him by JK. His fashion taste was dark, often dressing in all black and wearing bucket hats. Sometimes he would just fade away in the background but he didn’t care. 

Jungkook was editing a video for the cheer team in the audiovisual club classroom, but his fingertip halted at the mousepad when he felt a presence entering the room. He sees you walking in with your white tennis skirt and pastel green cardigan. He doesn’t understand why you would dare walk in this room. You’re Y/N, the school’s sweetheart, nice to everyone and everyone wanted to be your friend. He watches you smile and come closer to him, grabbing a chair and sitting next to him. “ Hey, Jungkook. What are you up to?,” you lean over to see his laptop screen.  He smells the light floral perfume and he feels like he shouldn’t have the privilege of smelling your floral scent. 

This wasn’t the first time you spoke to him, a couple times you would say hi to him during the events he filmed. But you did that to everyone saying ‘hellos’ and ‘how are yous ?’, because you didn’t want anyone to feel left out. “ Uh-editing this video for the cheer team. This would be my last video I would do for this school,” he scratches the back of his head. In the next three days he wouldn’t be a high schooler anymore. He would leave this place and major in film in a college in California. 

“ Cool, I really like your videos. I heard that you were going to UCLA and doing film. That’s pretty exciting, maybe we’ll bump into each other around campus,” you smile gently. 

Jungkook was shocked to hear that you knew what school he is going to attend. In the back of his head he wished that you guys would bump into each other and become friends. “ Maybe...so what’s up?,” he closes his laptop to face you. Which he regrets since he won’t be able to focus on anything you say since you are so pretty. 

“ I want you to film me...I want to give it to my friends as a goodbye gift,” you cross your legs. “ I’ll pay you for your hard work,” you reach into your bag grabbing your wallet. 

“ No, it’s fine you don’t have to pay me,” he stops your manicure nails from grabbing some bills. 

You shake your head and he watches as your diamond earrings sparkle, “ No, I insist. I would feel really bad about it, Jungkook. Your work is top quality, better than those shitty Youtubers, even better than some of Quentin Tarantino works,” you proceed to take out the money. 

Jungkook eyes widen at your statement. No one has ever complimented his videos like you did. The closest compliment he has ever gotten from someone is ‘Looks good.’ Your soft hands brush his as you hand him the money, “ Thanks. We can start after I’m done with the cheer video,” he quickly puts the money in his pocket. 

You get up, tugging at your skirt since it rose up when you sat down. “ Great! I’ll see you later,” you gave a small wave and left the classroom.

----

“ I’m going to start filming, alright?,” Jungkook asked as you throw some things out of your locker in the trash can. 

“ Go ahead,” you smile at him. “ Look at how much stuff I have. It’s all useless stuff now,” you throw some more math tests away. He films you walking around the halls and greeting some people. Along with some chit chat, he admires the way you genuinely care about what your friends are talking about. He likes the way your hands move while you talk, and how touchy you are with your friends. He notices that you playfully hit your friends’ shoulder when they make you laugh really hard. Jungkook learns more about you when you answer the questions he gives you. He learns about what you love about your friends and how much you are going to miss them. 

You invite him to your house and he films you baking a cake for Mina’s birthday. You tell him the story of how you and Mina became friends. The fondness of your voice can be heard at spreading the strawberry icing on the cake. “ Want some?,” you ask, showing him the leftover frosting on your index finger. He looks confused by what you're asking. “ The frosting. Have some,” you bring your finger closer to him. 

Jungkook wonders if you know what you are doing. He could have not possibly licked the sweet frosting off your fingers. “ I-I uh no, it’s okay,” he fumbles with his camera, turning it off and hastily putting it in his bag. “ I think this is it for today,” he puts his backpack on. 

“ Okay...see you tomorrow,” you walk him out of your house.

----

The cafeteria is filled with the tune of Happy Birthday, Jungkook films you as you bring the pink cake in front of Mina. Zooming in on Mina’s face, he sees the evident rose blush that turns brighter as all the attention is on her, your lips kiss her cheek as you wish her a happy birthday under your breath. 

“ Jungkook, you can stop filming and have some cake,” you say as you slice a cake for him. His eyes widen and you chuckle as hand him the cake. The lunch table is filled with laughter and he feels like he’s almost part of the friend group. Some of your friends ask him questions and bring him in some of the conversation. Jungkook starts filming again and asks more questions towards your friends on what they are going to miss the most about each other. By the end of lunch he feels like he’s got good content and wants to start editing. 

You walk with him towards the AV room, and you hug him just outside the classroom. He feels your slightly smaller body engulf him in your warmness. His arms are awkwardly staying by his side and his heart rate quickens as seconds pass. You pull away and smile at him, “ Thank you Jungkook. It really means a lot for you to do this.”

“ No problem. You did pay me for this…,” he awkwardly states. He wants to slap himself for always being too abrupt with you. “ I mean it was kinda fun filming you. You radiate this wholesome energy,” he tries to compliment you. 

Laughing lightly you hit his shoulder, “ Wholesome, huh? I was thinking maybe we should keep in touch so we can have eachothers back while in California…” you quirk your eyebrow, shrugging your shoulders nervously. Jungkook face blanks and you quickly retract your words, “ Nevermind, we don’t have to-”

“ No, I’d like that!,” his voice raises at the end. He rubs his head, “ Yes, let’s keep in touch.” Your phone pings and you smile at a text message quickly typing away. Jungkook clears his throat causing you to look up at him, “ I feel like we have everything for the video. I should be done editing by the end of the week.”

“ Cool, I’ll see you later,” you wave at him and watch him enter the classroom.

At home Jungkook is meticulously working on the video not wanting to disappoint you. He’s in deep entrance of you talking in the video, he jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Taking off his headphones he sees his mom staring at his laptop and he closes it immediately. “ Mom! Why did you knock?,” he whines. He doesn’t know why he feels embarrassed, it’s not like he was watching porn.

“ I did knock but there was no reply. Who’s that your girlfriend?,” she gleefully smiles wanting to peek more at the video.

Jungkook groans and leaning his head back,“ No, just a girl. She paid me to do this video for her friends.” 

She hums lightly brushing her son’s slightly long hair, not wanting to bother her son anymore she quickly states that dinner is ready. 

----

Jungkook thinks you're going to ignore him the next morning since he was done filming you but you don’t. Instead you walk towards him snapping a polaroid of him and laugh at his surprised expression. “ This marks the end of a chapter to the beginning of a chapter in our life,” you tell him waving the polaroid. 

Jungkook rubs his eyes from the sudden flash, “ What do you mean?,” he asked for more information for your vague providence. 

 The short white dress you wear waves in a similar fashion as gold hoops dangle from your ears, “ We are ending our chapter of highschoolers today but I’m now beginning a chapter with you...as in the beginning of our friendship,” you look closer at the photo smiling at his doe eyes.

“ Y/N!,” your name is called out by Chaeyong. 

“ I’ll talk to you later, yeah?,” you watch him nod and walk towards Chaeyong.

Jungkook sighs and puts his headphones on and plays on his phone as he walks to his locker. He bumps into someone and he is about to say sorry but the words couldn’t come out. Yoongi stands in front of him with a glazed expression. Never in his time of attending this school has he come this close to Yoongi. Yoongi is a quiet kid, he can’t be described as a delinquent since he doesn’t start in any trouble but he does voice his opinion from time to time and teachers hate that. Afterschool he watches the football team on the bleachers smoking cigarettes with his friends. The teachers don’t say anything because it’s after school hours and honestly they couldn’t care less if he would end up getting lung cancer in his mid thirties. 

Yoongi’s skin is soft and pale, and his eyes are dark, he has this intimidating aura that Jungkook didn’t feel comfortable with. “ Sorry,” Jungkook finally mutters out. Yoongi doesn’t say anything but walks past Jungkook, lightly brushing his shoulder with his. He can smell the dark cologne trying it’s best to bask the nicotine scent. Even though this may be the last time seeing Yoongi, he does not want to get on his bad side. 

---

Jungkook just got out of the shower when he sees that he got a missed call from you, he calls you back curious to what you have called him for. You immediately pick up,“ Hey! Are you busy right now?” 

Jungkook puts his phone on speaker, “ No, not really...why?,” he answers while putting on his boxers. 

“ Just bored...wanna hangout?,” you let out a sigh. 

Jungkook fingers combs through his damp hair, looking at his appearance through his bathroom mirror. He’s wearing comfortable baggy clothes and he wonders if he should dress up. “ Sure, what are we going to do?”

“ You ask too many questions. Just come over and bring your camera!” Jungkook wasn’t able to say anything afterwards because you hung up. His father was shocked to hear that his son wanted to borrow his car because Jungkook wasn't the type to hangout outside of school with his friends. Jungkook’s father was actually happy to hear this and asked if he needed any money and he politely declined his father. When arriving at your house he saw that no one else was parked on the driveway, his anxiety getting the best of him. He decided not to park in the driveway since he didn’t want to seem rude. He shoots you a text upon his arrival, and you open the door for him, greeting him with a smile.

“ My parents are visiting some family members and my sister is probably gonna spend the night with her boyfriend...so it’s just us,” you lead him to your room. He looks around your room and easily spots a minimalist aesthetic “ Sorry I just exercised. I’m going to take a quick shower,” you tell him, urging him to make himself comfortable. 

Jungkook gulps and sits on the chair by your desk. He sees makeup products and some old homework assignments that you yet to discard. There are several manga volumes and decide to read one hoping that you don’t mind. He’s a couple chapters in when he hears someone calling your name and coming upstairs, he freezes staring at the door wondering if your parents came home early. The door opens and he jolts when he comes face to face with Min Yoongi. 

“ What the hell are you doing here?,” Yoongi walks straight to Jungkook grabbing at the collar of the shirt. 

“ Uhh-I-I Y/N-,” Jungkook stammers out, cringing at how stupid he sounds. What the fuck why is Yoongi in your room? 

“ Yoongi!,” you yell at him. You come out of the bathroom only wearing a large t-shirt that covers just about to your mid thighs, your hair is still wet dripping on the shirt, and you come between the two men before Jungkook ends up with a black eye. Yoongi calms down as soon as you touch his wrist and he rolls his eyes at Jungkook gaping at the sight of him in your room. “ I didn’t expect you to come this early, Yoongi,” you look at Yoongi. You look nervously at the sight of Yoongi fuming ready to tear Jungkook's head.

“ What’s he doing here?,” Yoongi points at Jungkook. 

“ I’m just as confused as to why I’m exactly here…,” Jungkook is picking up his camera bag ready to leave the house. 

Your hand touches Jungkook's arm to cease him from leaving without your explanation, “ Stay please. Just let me explain,” you make eye contact with Jungkook. Nodding he sits down on the comfy chair, while waiting patiently for you to explain. Yoongi continues standing up despite you telling him to sit down too. “ I want you to film me and Yoongi,” you say confidently but there's a nervous shake near the end of your sentence, tugging nervously at the hem of your shirt, you look at Jungkook to see his reaction. 

Jungkook heart races,“ Doing what?,” his voice shakes, he knows what it is but he needs to be absolutely sure.

“ Me fucking her, you idiot,” Yoongi grunts looking at Jungkook. Yoongi looks at you with concern, “ You are not doing this because of last week. Baby, I was half kidding of doing a sex tape,” he comes closer moving some of the wet hair strands out of your face. 

Grabbing gently at his hand you kiss the back of his hand, “ I want to do it. When Jungkook was filming me I thought it wouldn’t be so bad for him to film us...just as long as no one else sees it, right?,” you look between Yoongi and Jungkook. Yoongi nods his head immediately in agreement but Jungkook looks hesitant scratching at his head.

“ I’ll do it. You can trust me, Y/N,” Jungkook finally says. Jungkook thinks to himself that this is the only opportunity he’ll ever see you naked so he’ll be an idiot to say no. The thought of him filming you in such a vulnerable way is erotic yet beautiful to him. 

“ Really?,” your eyes widen in excitement. Walking towards Jungkook you grab his hand giving him a comforting squeeze. Yoongi sighs at your actions but you ignore him looking at Jungkook’s pretty eyes. 

“ Yeah of course, Y/N. Let me get my stuff ready,” Jungkook feels your hand leave his and he goes through his camera bag. He watches you go to Yoongi and he hears Yoongi talking softly to you, caressing you as nod cutely to him. “ I’m all set,” Jungkook speaks clearly, interrupting the conversation that you and Yoongi had. “ Just do whatever you guys are comfortable with,” Jungkook gulps when Yoongi leads you to the bed.

Yoongi brings you on his lap, not hesitating to bring his lips to yours. You sigh at the feeling of his hands massaging your bare thighs feeling them move closer to your ass. The kiss grows more messier with each second, and you start grinding on him trying to relieve yourself. His hand grabs the back of your neck and he hums while forcing you to look at him. “ Who said you can do that?,” he tsk at the sight of your desparation. Yoongi turns your head whispering, “ Look at the camera.” Listening to his command you see Jungkook behind the camera and you feel more shy at Jungkook looking at you in a desperate state. “ Don’t act so coy. You like the thought of someone watching us,” he laughs lightly, his hand going under your shirt rubbing your stomach up and down not going anywhere you need him the most. “ Camera boy,” Yoongi sardonically calls Jungkook. 

“ Yes…,” Jungkook replies with hesisitance. 

“ Come closer to us,” Yoongi continues touching your body. 

Jungkook slowly walks closer to you and Yoongi, he has the camera focus on your face and smile shyly at him. Yoongi kisses your neck leaving a few love bites, finally letting his reach to your breast fondling it as you stare at the camera. “ Yoongi, I want more,” you squirm when he pinches your nipple at your plea. “ I’ll be good for you,” you beg and turn your head so you can kiss him again. It seems like he’s done with the teasing when he pulls your shirt over your head, quickly wrapping his mouth on your nipple. Tossing your head back you moan at the feeling, Jungkook brings the camera closer to your face. It turns you on more that he’s watching you in this state. 

Yoongi's mouth leaves your nipple and lets out a dark laugh, “ Look at her, she’s a whore for attention,” he slaps your breast causing you to hiss in delight.  Yoongi stares into the camera “ Did you know she would beg me to fuck her behind the bleachers?” The question is more posed for Jungkook rather than the camera. If Yoongi is honest he doesn’t like Jungkook. His distaste for Jungkook started when he noticed that his girl was taking an interest in Jungkook. Yoongi would see all pretty and perfect for the camera boy around school. He wanted to punch Jungkook when he sat too close to you during lunch looking at you like a kid in love. 

“ Yoongi don’t,” you whine at him for not to spill more stories about your devious sexacpades. Yoongi manhandles you, taking your panties off, throwing it to the side, and commands you to get on all fours. You love when he gets serious and mad since he takes all his emotions on you as he fucks you. His hands rub your folds spreading your wetness, the pleasure gets the best of you and you slightly drop your head down. 

He grabs your hair forcing you to look at the camera, “ Look at the camera,” he holds your hair tighter. He inserts two of his fingers in your entrance preparing you and you just want him to just shove his dick in you but he always makes sure you are completely prepared. “ Fuck, look at you soaking your sheets like a slut,” he laughs trying to make you feel more humalited. “ Always making a mess. Remember when I fucked you in the boys restroom at school,” he asked. Of course you remember he fucked you from behind and he gagged you with your own panties. You shake your head not wanting to let Jungkook know that you weren’t the model student in school. Yoongi let’s a boisterous laugh, “ Really? C’mon Camera Boy won’t tell anyone, right?,” Yoongi looks at Jungkook. 

Jungkook is all lost with words, he didn’t know you had this side of you. It was just twenty minutes ago he found out that he were dating Yoongi and now he finds out that you would have sex on campus. The thought of you getting fucked in the bathroom turned him on, he envisioned you trying to keep your cute little moans quite. He wondered if you went back to class as if everything was normal with cum inside you. A small part of him wished it was him doing those things to you. He finally answers Yoongi, “ I won’t tell anyone,” he gives you a look of comfort.

“ Good because I would kill you if you do. See Y/N, no need to deny how much of a slut you are,” Yoongi kisses your shoulder. Your cheeks redden despite how much of his statement is true. He lets go of your hair and you hear him rustling with his pants, turning your head you see him stroking his cock. You have the sudden urge to want to taste him in your mouth. He makes eye contact with you and you can’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach. Turning your head back you stare at Jungkook, noticing his pants gone tighter. You wonder if Yoongi would be open to having Jungkook join. Maybe have him jerk off at the sight of you getting fuck by Yoongi. Or have him fuck your mouth as Yoongi takes you from behind. The options are endless and you get more wetter at the dirty thoughts. Your thoughts get interrupted when Yoongi slides his cock into you. His hands grab your hips possessively fucking into you deep and slow. 

“ Fuck Yoongi,” you moan his name. His thrust is getting deeper and his hands tighten as you clench around him. “ Do I feel good?,” you look at the camera.

He groans and his thrust are faster, “Shit-yeah. I could fuck you all the time,” he slaps your ass. Nodding your head in agreement, “ Your gonna miss me fucking this tight pussy? ,” he slaps your ass again. You can’t answer because he spreads your legs further apart trying to hit you deeper. Making you land face first onto the mattress. Your face is probably not in view to the camera but you don’t care, you just want to get lost in the feeling of Yoongi fucking you to obilivion. 

Jungkook comes to the bed and Yoongi watches him carefully as he pushes some of the hair that completely covers your face. Pushing the hair back he can see your pretty eyes that swarmed with lust along with your plump lips leaving out moans. “ Her face was covered. I just wanted a better shot,” Jungkook tries to defend himself.

Yoongi scoffs, “ Whatever man,” and he continues to fuck you at a faster rate. Causing you to moan his name louder. “ Such a fucking slut. Prancing around in your short skirts around school knowing guys would stare at you,” his hand finds your clit and pinches it. “ My little slut,” he whispers.

You feel your approach coming “ Can I cum? Pleaseee,” you whine more with each thrust. He rubs your clit faster, and you cry at how good he is fucking you. 

“Come for me,” he slaps your clit. Your eyes roll back as you moan loudly as he keeps hitting the spot that makes you see stars. You can tell that Yoongi is about to cum as his movement gets sloppier, squeezing your waist. He groans your name as he cums in you. Yoongi slumps down on you, “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he whispers in your ear. You smile dumbly at his compliment. Yoongi gets up from your back, pulling himself out of you. Yoongi looks at Jungkook still holding his camera, “ You can stop recording,” he looks down and sees Jungkook sporting a boner. 

“ Sorry,” Jungkook turns off the camera. 

“ You’re good,” Yoongi disregards the needless apology. Yoongi hastily pulls up his boxers and pants, bending down he helps you turn around so you are now laying on your back. Leaning down he kisses you softly on your cheeks making his way to your lips. You sigh happily into the kiss. “ I love you,” he kisses you one last time. 

“ No, I love you,” you smile cheekily. 

Yoongi smiles pinching your nose,“ Brat.”

Jungkook stands in your room not knowing what to do just simply watching the interaction you have with Yoongi. “ I’ll have the video sent to you by tomorrow morning,” he interrupts the scene. He makes his way to his camera bag.

“ You should stay,” you tell Jungkook. Yoongi gives you a look, getting up from his position and going to your bathroom. You hear the water faucet and you assume he is getting a wet towel for you. Jungkook eyes widen, not knowing to accept or refuse your proposal since Yoongi is against the idea. “ Stay. I’ll order pizza and we can all watch movies. You know as a thank you for filming us,” you give him a hopeful smile. 

Yoongi comes back with the wet towel, grabbing your shirt on the floor along with new panties.“ Jungkook, you can stay,” he looks at Jungkook. “ Spread your legs for me baby,” Yoongi kisses your knee. You do as you're told and he cleans you.

Million things are going inside Jungkook's head.  Should he stay? Would that be weird? Wouldn’t it be more weird if he declined, he did see you and Yoongi naked already-- “ Jungkook what pizza toppings do you want?,” you ask while scrolling on the delivery app. He must have been spaced out for a couple minutes since you have clothes on. Yoongi is combing your hair through his fingers while looking at your phone. “ As long as it is not pineapple,” Yoongi comments.  

“ Anything is fine,” Jungkook finally answers. He hears you hum and you order whatever topping you want. Jungkook puts his equipment on your desk, he decides to sit at the end of the bed not wanting to cross the line. 

You finish ordering the food, laying your head on Yoongi’s chest, you stare at Jungkook awkwardly sitting on the bed. “ Come closer, we don’t bite,” you tell Jungkook. You pat beside you so he can come forward. Jungkook looks at Yoongi for permission and you roll your eyes. Looking at Yoongi, he nods his head as if to say okay. One Punch Man is playing and surprisingly there is no more tension in the room, but filled with careless laughter. The doorbell rings, “ Pizza is here, I’ll be back,” you kiss Yoongi on the cheek. 

Jungkook prayed that you didn’t leave him alone with Yoongi but you already left. “ Jungkook, you’re going to the same school as Y/N, yeah? ” Yoongi asked but he still continues watching the anime.

“ Yeah,” Jungkook answers nervously.

“ Take care of her for me,” Yoongi finally looks at him. 

Jungkook feels like Yoongi's words hold a deeper meaning but regardless Jungkook nods, “ Uhh-yeah okay.”

Yoongi moves his attention back to the anime once he hears your footsteps.  

[ezwhump]

Let the Cat Out of the Bag - pet whump, pet-sitting, pampered pet, introduction of characters 

“Explain it to me again.”

“Aw, fuck off, Farhan.”

“No, seriously!” Farhan spat a seed shell into the solo cup and  took another swig of his beer. “This woman puts an ad in the fucking paper, for christ’s sake, asking for someone to what? Look after her kitty cat?”

He buckled over, eyes creasing, and barked out a laugh. 

“No you got that exactly right, man,” Gregor let his mouthful of warm beer dribble back into the bottle and set it down on the table. “She’s got some sorta terminal illness, says she won’t be home enough to look after it, yeah? That’s where I come in.” 

Farhan snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah but she could just sell it though. Get some dough before she croaks.” He leaned over and snatched the paper off the table. “Pet-sitting. Fucking hell. I can loan you the money, you know.” 

When Farhan got serious he got fancy, started picking up his ‘t’s, shortening his vowels. Offering money. It made Gregor raise his hackles. 

“When you think about it, it's not a bad gig. I get to fuck around in some OAP’s house all day and I get paid for it. If I do a decent enough job maybe I get in on the will.”

Farhan shook his head, flipping to the sports section of the paper. “You’re a fuckin’ vulture, man.”

Gregor smiled to himself and drank his warm beer anyway. Farhan didn’t really understand, it didn’t matter what the job was, it mattered what the pay was. And he’d do pretty much anything at this point (except become Farhan’s charity case), so long as food got put on the table and the bills were paid, even looking after some geriatric’s pet. 

Even if he was allergic to cats. 

--

The car pulled up a few streets away from the old lady’s, and Gregor opened the passenger door. 

Farhan leaned over and rolled down the window. “You got your cell?”

Gregor patted his jean’s back pocket. 

“Right, good. Wallet, keys?”

“Fuck off, Farhan.” Gregor was getting irate, jumping on the spot with his hands in his front pockets. It was too fucking cold outside for chit-chat, he wanted to get into the warm house and start eating. 

Farhan laughed and cranked up the window with a “right, right”. 

The house was in a cul-de-sac of luxury townhomes, redbrick with intricate railings and a courtyard with a fountain. Gregor was suddenly very aware of his ratty sneakers and DIY buzzcut. He spat into the bushes and rang the doorbell, stopping short of shouting up to the closest window. It seemed like the sort of place where people would stop and stare if you spoke too loudly, and god forbid he caused a kerfuffle and the police were called. 

He patted his pocket for his dab pen and rolled it between his thumb and finger while he waited to be buzzed in. 

“Katz residence.” 

Gregor jumped and turned to the intercom speaker on the side of the doorway. He pressed the little purple button. 

“Uh, hi. It's Gregor. Enache. I’m here for the pet-sitting gi- job.” 

He waited for a moment, wind whipping inside his jacket and making him shudder. Then the intercom buzzed and he heard a lock click, so he took his cue and went inside. 

After processing the excessive grandeur of the lobby, Gregor took the elevator up to the top floor. All the hallways were cream with soft white lights in sconces and glittering from chandeliers. The floors were marble, and Gregor almost laughed when his soles squeaked and tracked dirt if he scraped them hard enough. 

There was a soft tinkling music coming from somewhere and all the doors were painted a deep plum colour with gold handles. The whole place smelled like sweet perfume. Part of Gregor wanted to break everything just to check if it was real (especially the little statues on the antique tables), part of him wanted this whole place to be preserved in resin so he could stare at it forever, but he mostly just wanted to see if there were price listings for any of it. The pawn potential made him lightheaded. 

“She’s gonna pay you,” he reminded himself, stopping at door 19 and rapping the golden knocker. It was shaped like a cat. 

  A boy answered the door. Well, not really a boy, though he seemed younger. He looked around Gregor’s age, 22 or so, but they were leagues apart. 

He had pearl-blonde hair that stopped at the base of his throat and his lanky frame was a little taller than Gregor. He was wearing a long-sleeve shirt and slacks made out of the same muslin fabric, but his feet were bare and clean. 

“Pleased to meet you Mr. Enache.” A woman’s voice called out from the guy who stepped aside silently to let Gregor in. 

Salma Katz was sitting on a white lounge sofa in a skirt and blouse, her legs crossed at the ankles. She wasn’t geriatric by any stretch of the imagination but she did have an air of vulnerability around her, like something was wrong and she was using every vice at her disposal to hide it. It showed in the way she picked at her nails or kept tucking back her blonde bob. 

“Hi.” Gregor stood dumbly in the entryway, eyes darting to all of the fanciful objects littered about the place. Little markings of money, of privilege. He felt sort of trapped. “Um, so where is the little guy?”

Salma was blinking sluggishly, and Gregor couldn’t help but compare it to when his mom had gotten hold of Farhan’s Vicodin after his dental surgery last month. Hazy, drugged up. It was probably painkillers or something. 

“There are a few things I should go over before I leave, but just in case there’s a list on the refrigerator.” She gestured for Gregor to sit and he did, slumping into the love-seat across from her, a glass coffee table between them with a small vase of peach roses in the middle of it. 

“I’m very invested in the comfort and safety of my pet while I’m enjoying treatment, and thus very meticulous. . . about who watches him.” The boy had taken a seat on the floor in front of her lounge chair, and Gregor had to drag his eyes back to Salma. 

“Right. Well, I mean, why put it in the paper then? Any dickwad off the street could come in.” A humoured smile lit up her face, and Gregor caught himself. “Uh, with all due respect, ma’am.”

Salma laughed, an airy, unbothered sound. “Well, just prove to me that I made the correct choice young man, and we won’t have a problem.” Her eyes trailed Gregor up and down and he tried not to squirm, setting his jaw and meeting her eyes. They glinted. “Now, Leander has a particular diet which I included on the list. I presume you can cook?”

Gregor nodded. He’d had to learn a long time ago. 

“Wonderful. Taking him outside the apartment is discouraged, however we do have a balcony if you’ll be needing to smoke or he needs fresh air. He takes a bath most nights, and you’ll know what to wash him with. Oh, and of course if you need anything from him all you need to do is ask.” 

“It’s trained?” Gregor felt his eyes widen, impressed. Cat’s weren’t usually trained, but he should’ve figured given the context of the whole situation. 

“Indeed he is. Now, I wouldn’t want him to get lonely, either. He has his own room but he does enjoy company. Would you be available to watch him five days a week?”

Gregor thought for a moment and nodded. He’d cover his bases, pay his dues, on the weekend. And besides, pets didn’t really require all that much effort. 

“Perfect. Does 7-12 feel appropriate? Of course we’d provide you with adequate food, a bed, transport, and whatever else you require to perform your duties.” She was talking slowly, like she was trying to coerce a wild animal into a cage, but Gregor wasn’t going to complain. Living in a place like this all day, free food, a fucking car, and all he had to do was refill a food bowl and wrestle it into a bath sometimes? He felt like he’d stumbled upon a get-out-of-jail-free card. 

“Sure, no problem.”

Salma smiled again and smoothed her hand along the boy’s hair, standing up and gesturing for Gregor to do so as well. Gregor tried to keep the incredulity from showing on his face. 

She reached out and took Gregor’s hand, clasping it briefly and then turning back to the boy. Gregor looked around again for a tabby, a persian. A fucking tiger. 

Salma ushered the boy forward, and he stood graceful and silent in front of Gregor, avoiding eye contact. 

“Mr. Enache, this is Leander. My pet.”

--- 

I’m taking a short break from Russ & Lennon, but hopefully you guys will enjoy reading about Gregor & Leander as much as I enjoy writing them :) I’m starting up a new tag list for these two so if you’d like to be included pls just let me know! <3 - ez 

--

tag list: __ 

[qjhughes]

Mercy

Pairing: Roommate!Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: Exactly 4,100

Summary: Having a roommate is hard, benign in love with them is harder. What’s hardest, though, is them not loving you back.

Warning(s): Mutual pining, sadness, both parties being lowkey dumb, sudden changes, a letter, absolutely no dialogue

A/N: This is my third piece for the Illuminate Masterlist!! I don’t personally like the way that this one ends, but I do like the fact that this is my first piece without any dialogue. I hope everyone enjoys it!! I cried writing it, but that may be just because I’m emotional. Hopefully it’s not too bad jfhdskaj.

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*

You've got a hold of me Don't even know your power I stand a hundred feet But I fall when I'm around you

Having a roommate can be hard, that’s a known fact. You must get along with your roommate, communicate, and have compatible personalities for the arrangement to work. If any one of those things are off, the entire thing can fall apart.

Having a roommate is hard, but having clearly unrequited feelings for your roommate is even harder. There were multitudes of issues that came with this.

He couldn’t see you in your shared living space without his stomach tying itself in knots. When you were in the same room with him, close enough to where he could smell your perfume and hear you breathe, his heart goes into overdrive. It’s like his pulse is trying to get first place in the race, and he can’t slow it down for the life of him. Which isn’t always a great thing because he’ll get out of breath quickly and then he’ll have to go on the search for his inhaler because he genuinely cannot breathe.

It hadn’t started like this, Harry hadn’t always had feelings for you. But after living with you for almost a year, he had gotten to know every part of you. He had seen the ups and the downs, the good and the bad. He was there when you were laughing so hard that tears were streaming down your face, and he was also there when you were sobbing to the point that you almost got sick. 

He had seen you at your worst, but that didn’t mean that much to you. He was just a friend, a close one at that.

That killed him. More than anything, he didn’t want to be your friend. He yearned to be the person that you fell asleep with and woke up curled into. To be the person that got to show you the love and affection that you deserve. To get the privilege of loving you.

But he knows that the feelings are unrequited, knows that you don’t see him that way. At first, he had thought you could. That maybe, just maybe, you could have the tiniest hint of feelings for him.

But that thought was quickly squashed by the boyfriends, and the one night stands, and the crushes. All of which you talked to him about. He knows you, talking to someone you like about things like that isn’t something that you do.

Harry had spent a long time mourning something that had never begun, and then he realized that the feelings weren’t going to go away. He hoped and prayed that they would, but they never did.

So, he spent just about every single day wishing that he was yours, but never being able to say that he was. 

He spent his waking hours being constantly brought down by you. Not in a purposeful way. It’s just that as Harry Styles, the worldwide musical sensation, he was sort of used to getting what he wanted. He wasn’t cocky or anything, but he was confident in who he was. But there was just something about you that made him feel completely inferior, all because he wasn’t someone that you had feelings for.

Show me an open door Then you go and slam it on me I can't take anymore I'm saying baby

Living with Harry was pure torture. There’s no other way to put it. Living under the same roof with someone that you’re head over heels for, but not being able to show them is absolute torture. 

You had tried to tell him, tried to hint to him that you were into him. For a while, you would hug him more, would just go up to him and hug him at random times. You’d order him food when you ordered your own, even if he didn’t ask for it. You’d invite him to watch movies with you and then say you were cold so that you could share the blanket with him. 

He never seemed to take the hints, however, never seemed to understand what you were trying to say. At first, you thought ath he was just being dumb about the whole thing and not realizing that you were trying to show him how much you cared about him.

But then you pulled the timeless trick, the one that everyone used at least once in middle school, you talked about other guys to see if he got jealous. When he didn’t, when he just talked about them with you and gave you advice on how to get with them, you realized that it wasn’t just the fact that he didn’t see the hints, it was that he didn’t care. And that hurt more than you thought that it would.

After that, you were scared that you were going to act differently around him, so you closed him off a little bit, stopped dropping hints and just went back to how you used to be. It made everything feel weird at first, seeing as you had been acting that way for months. 

What really confused you about the whole thing, though, was that he seemed to not have feelings and to not care if you would date someone else, but every time you would bring someone to meet him, he automatically hated them. On any occasion when you were just lounging around the house, he would randomly come up to you and put his arms around you, cuddling into you and holding you close. For a while, he would always find a way to be touching you.

You thought that you would be happy that he was like that, but the mixed signals that he was throwing out were driving you crazy. You didn’t know how you were supposed to get over him, to accept the fact that he didn’t reciprocate the feelings that you had, when he acted the way that he did.

Please have mercy on me Take it easy on my heart Even though you don't mean to hurt me You keep tearing me apart Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart

In all honesty, he knew that you didn’t mean to put him through the pain that you did. He’s completely aware of the fact that you don’t purposefully break his heart. You just don’t have the same feelings that he does, and that’s okay. He’s not going to beg you to love him. He just wishes that the pain of living with you and not being yours would subside.

There are a lot of things that he’s learned since the two of you moved in together. But the most life changing thing that he’s learned in that time is that not everything works out. And not everything can be fixed or altered to where it does work out.

There are just some things that aren’t meant to happen. He didn’t want to believe that for a long time, didn’t want to think that there are some things, some aspects of life, that are truly unattainable. He’s always believed that everything is possible, so for him to realize, and accept, that not everything can happen was a major step for him.

He thought that realizing that you were out of reach would make it easier to cope with the pain of unrequited love, but that’s not what happened in the slightest.

If anything, it seemed to make it even worse. He would look over at you while you were eating dinner or watching a movie together and he’d get entranced by your beauty. And then, ultimately, he would get sad and want to go back to his room.

The fact that you were so perfect, so wonderful and lovely, yet so out of reach killed him inside.

He found himself wanting to find a new place, to move out so that you didn’t have to deal with his pining (that he knew just had to be completely obvious) and so he didn’t have to torture himself by loving you and being so close yet so far away from you.

He ended up deciding against that idea, knowing that it would take you forever to find a new roommate that you liked and that you couldn’t pay the entirety of the rent by yourself. For a bit he thought about paying his half of the rent until you found a new roommate, but he knew that if he wasn’t actively using the space, then you wouldn’t accept his money.

And regardless of how he felt, he wouldn’t leave you to struggle on your own.

I'd drive through the night Just to be near you, baby Heart open, testify Tell me that I'm not crazy

You’d do anything for him. How does he not see that? How does he not care? 

In the time that you had been sharing an apartment with him, he had never once let you help him with anything. It was frustrating more than anything.

You caught him one night stumbling through the door at three in the morning. He was so clearly drunk, and by the looks of it, he wasn’t doing well. You tried your hardest to help him get to bed, but he pushed you away, claiming that if he needed anyone’s help, it definitely wouldn’t be yours.

The night, you had gone to bed crying, not understanding why he was so against you helping him. 

The next day, he didn’t say anything about it, and neither did you. He acted like there was nothing to talk about, and you just didn’t want to relive the embarrassment of being told that he’d rather have anyone else help him than you.

What you did to get that side of him, you couldn’t figure out. You hadn’t done anything to him at all, especially not lately. 

Maybe he just figured out exactly how whipped you are for him and he finds it weird. Maybe he thinks you’re crazy, maybe even a little pathetic for being so in love with him when he couldn’t care less about you.

I'm not asking for a lot Just that you're honest with me My pride is all I got I'm saying baby

There’s nothing that Harry hates more than hurting you. He hates himself every time the flicker of it passes through your eyes when he pushes you away. When he lies straight to your face and tells you he doesn’t need you. When he pushes you away.

He tells you that it’s for the sake of your friendship. That no matter what, he doesn’t want to ruin that with you. But the truth, the part that he doesn’t want to admit, is that he’s trying to make everything easier on him. 

He knows it’s selfish. He’s aware of the fact that he’s being rude to you for reasons that aren’t valid. He feels like an awful person for it, but he doesn’t know how to stop doing it. He wants to treat you how you deserve to be treated. He wants to stop making you upset, but he genuinely can’t figure out how to. 

He wants to tell you everything, explain it to you so that maybe you’ll understand. But Harry can’t even let his pride go. It always gets in the way of him making the right decisions. 

Usually, he can stop his pride from getting too involved in situations. He can stop it from ruining things. But here he was, hurting you, and not being able to fix it because of his pride.

Please have mercy on me Take it easy on my heart Even though you don't mean to hurt me You keep tearing me apart

You were indecisive. Always had been, probably always would be. This is the exact reason why you’re up at the crack of dawn debating the pros and cons of moving out. 

You don’t want to leave him, that’ll probably hurt the most. But there’s just so much that you can’t take anymore. You can’t handle him pushing you away more and more every time that you’re around him. You can’t handle the way the apartment feels empty even when both of you are home. You can’t handle the way that the silence is deafening because nobody ever speaks.

There’s a part of you that thinks - or more like hopes - that he doesn’t mean to hurt you like this. That maybe there’s just something going on with him that you’re not aware of. 

But the bigger part of you, the part of you that is thinking logically, believes that he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

Would you please have mercy on me I'm a puppet on your string And even though you got good intentions I need you to set me free Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart

He was slowly going insane sitting in his room and not having the guts to just walk down the hall and knock on your door. Anyone else would have told you by now. Anyone else would have just gotten over themselves and told you how they felt. 

Why couldn’t he just get up and make his way to you? Why couldn’t he seem to make the right choice here?

For the past few months, everything had felt like it was being controlled by you in some way. It wasn’t like you were legitimately controlling his actions, but there was always that thought in the back of his mind asking what you would do or what you would want him to do. 

While lying on his bed, he’s aware of the fact that you would want him to just man up and tell you, that you would just want him to have the courage to go after what he wants.

For the first time in what felt like years, he goes against what he thinks you would wish for him to do. He’s relieved at the time. He’s so glad that he has the willpower to act the complete opposite of what his thoughts about you tell him to.

If he had known just how bad that one decision would have messed up everything, he wouldn’t have been nearly as relieved that night.

Consuming all the air inside my lungs Ripping all the skin from off my bones I'm prepared to sacrifice my life I would gladly do it twice

You feel bad for leaving him, for deciding to move out. But after thinking about it, the cons majorly outweighed the pros. 

That night, you decide that you’re moving out. You’ll pack your clothes and some boxes, load up your car, and have your friends come pick up whatever’s left. 

You don’t really want to leave without saying anything to him, but there’s nothing that you could say to him that you think he would listen to. He doesn’t even want you around him most of the time. There’s no way that he’d want a face to face about why you’re leaving.

So, you do the next best thing. You write a letter. You sit down at your desk and pick up your favorite pen. Pulling out your notebook, you begin to write. 

After you’re done, you take your clothes and the few boxes that you could get packed to your car. Before you say your final goodbye to the space that you’d called your mind for so long, you leave the letter on the counter next to the coffee pot. 

He’d find it in the morning, right after he woke up. You’d be long gone by then.

You shrug on your jacket and make your way out of the apartment, locking the door behind you and holding back the tears that had been threatening to surface since you had the initial thought of moving out.

Consuming all the air inside my lungs Ripping all the skin from off my bones I'm prepared to sacrifice my life I would gladly do it twice

He didn’t sleep well. His brain had kept him awake, coming up with scenario after scenario of how things could have gone if he just told you how he felt. More often than not, though, those scenarios ended up having a horrible outcome.

He trudged out of his room at the crack of dawn, knowing that once he woke up he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Not after how hard it was to get to bed in the first place.

The entire walk to the kitchen, something feels off. It’s like there’s something missing. He doesn’t dwell too long on it. He’s not usually out of bed this early. Maybe you’re still asleep.

When he gets to the kitchen, he doesn’t go straight to the counter. He stops at the pantry first, pulling out some crackers to snack on. He makes his way over to the counter to brew some coffee and the envelope that he’s faced with makes his blood run cold.

Why was there an envelope with his name on it on the counter? In your handwriting? And why did you feel the need to write a letter instead of just coming to him and saying whatever needed to be said?

He doesn’t open the letter yet, deciding instead to brew a pot of coffee and drink a cup. He knows that he’ll most likely need to be completely awake to read the contents of the letter.

Please have mercy on me Take it easy on my heart Even though you don't mean to hurt me You keep tearing me apart

You didn't know when he’d be up. You didn’t know when he’d see the letter. You didn’t even know if he’d read it. What you did know, however, is that you weren’t ready for the next twenty four hours. If he found the letter and decided to read it, he may text you to talk about it. Or even worse, he may not text you at all. He may just let everything die right then and there.

Your worst fear of the entire thing, though, was that he wouldn’t read it at all. That he would notice that you left and feel such a sense of betrayal that he would just throw out the letter. 

If he never read it, you wouldn’t know. Chances are, you wouldn’t know what he did in general. But there was a part of you that was wishing upon everything that he would read it. That letter said everything. And if he decides to read it and not want to say anything, then that’s fine. But the thought of his not reading everything that you wrote down was gut wrenching. You had poured your soul into that letter and left it for him.

Would you please have mercy on me I'm a puppet on your string And even though you got good intentions I need you to set me free

He took the letter back to his room after checking the house for you. You were gone. He had pushed you to the point of leaving. Had he really been that daft? Were you really hurting that bad? He had been so caught up in himself that he didn’t even realize that you were going through things of your own.

As he opens the envelope, he can feel his breathing get heavier. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get through this.

He unfolds the papers that you poured your heart into and behind to read.

Harry,

By the time that you read this, I’ll be gone. I’ve thought about this for a long time. Thought about the pros and the cons of leaving the apartment. I know it’s awful of me to leave without saying anything to you, but I just can’t take it anymore.

I also know that it’s horrendous to tell you what I’m about to in a letter, but there’s no way that I could have been brave enough to say this to your face.

I’m in love with you. Like head over heels, wrapped around your finger, whipped. I don’t know for sure when it happened. I don’t know the exact day. I do know that there wasn’t one single moment that made me fall in love with you, it was a collection of every memory that we have with one another. 

It was the first time that I saw you. You were the most famous person that I had ever met, but I didn’t even know that. I’ve always stayed away from social media and there were a limited amount of people in my life. But you walked into that store that day and you were immediately the only person that I could see. You blushed at me, stopped and asked if I wanted something. I was so confused at the time, but now I understand that you probably thought that I was a fan. When I said no, you just smiled and went on with your day.

It was also the day we became roommates. You called about my ad (which probably was an awful way to find a roommate now that I think back on it, but I’m glad that I did it because without it I wouldn’t have found you again). You were so nervous. You looked like it was the most important meeting that you had ever been in. You impressed me with how nice you were.

It was all the times that you held the door for me. All the times that you put me first when you didn’t have to. It was every time that you let me borrow your clothes because they made me feel more comfy.

It was every time you’d look me directly in the eyes while we talked. I knew you were listening to every word that I had to say when you did that.

It was everything that you did for me. It was like every action was a piece of the puzzle that made me fall in love with you.

I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time, but there was always something holding me back.

At first, it was me. I was scared that I’d ruin the friendship. That someone like you could never in a million years like me. I was terrified that if I told you about the feelings that I had, you’d be disgusted. 

Then, we were drifting. I don’t know if it was you, or if it was me, or if it was the both of us. But we weren’t the same that we were. We were different, farther from each other than we ever have been.

And then you came in drunk and I tried to help you. I tried to get you to bed. You told me you’d rather have anyone else’s help than mine. Anyone but me.

That’s what really pushed me. I couldn’t live under the same roof as you and be so helplessly in love with you and have you not even want me around. 

So, I made the decision to move out. I know that you’ll need to find a new roommate. I already have a few people who are looking for one. I’ll leave their numbers at the end of this letter along with their names.

This has gotten a lot longer than I ever intended for it to be, but the point is: I’m in love with you. And if you want to leave it at this, that’s okay. If you never want to talk to me again, that’s okay. I don’t need you to be in love with me. I just want you to be happy. Do what makes you happy, H.

All the Love,

Y/N

I'm begging you for mercy, mercy Begging you, begging you, please, baby I'm begging you for mercy, mercy Ooh, I'm begging you, I'm begging you

By the time that he finishes the letter, there are tears freely flowing down his face. He can’t hold it back.

You love him? God, he messed this up big time, huh? 

He doesn't know what he can do to fix this, but he knows where to start.

I read your letter, saw the numbers and names. Thought I’d tell you that I don’t want another roommate. I just want you.  Can we meet somewhere to talk?

He puts his phone down, waiting for the reply that he may never receive.

*

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little piece that I whipped up :))

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[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Ron Slater

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

“Ayyyy the pizza goddess is here!”

- Out of all the things you’ve been called as a food delivery person, that has definitely got to be your favorite.

- Working the late shift at your local pizza place was not what you had in mind when you began looking for a job but the pay was decent and the tasks were easy so you really couldn’t complain. Sure, you had to deal with a few creeps, but there were also some much more wholesome customers.

- The stoners were your favorite and you were quite sure they always would be. Calm, good natured, very thankful; they were the perfect people to deal with when you were tired and just wanted to go home.

- So you met Slater pretty early into your pizza delivery career. Him and his friends were frequent customers of yours and were always the highlight of your night.

- You sort of figured out that the long haired boy was at least attracted to you, but you were completely unaware of just how hard he was crushing on you.

- It took months of him ordering pizzas just to see you before he finally gathered up the courage to ask for your phone number. You thought he was cute, even while high as a kite, and he was as sweet as could be during all of your interactions so you obliged, writing your number on his arm before you left.

- He called you up the next day, inviting you over to his house for a movie marathon and some takeout. Halfway through a particularly boring film, he asked if you wanted to see something cool to which you agreed. Fast forward a few minutes and the two of you are sitting atop the moon tower, gazing at the stars.

- He nervously reached for your hand in the dark and you let him take it, a small smile finding it’s way onto your face. The two of you walked back to his house hand and hand, a relationship blooming between you. 

- You shared your first kiss after about a week of dating. It may not seem like it but Slater’s actually a pretty nervous dude, at least when it comes to girls, so it took him a bit of time to make a move. 

- The two of you had spent an entire night together and were sitting on a random curb in the early hours of the morning, watching the sun start to rise. You had your head leaning against his shoulder when he placed a tentative hand against your cheek and leaned in.

-  It was short and sweet but it did the trick. After that he was free to kiss you whenever he wanted and you were granted the same privilege. ...Boyfriend and girlfriend.... He was ecstatic. 

- Having long, deep and sometimes rambling conversations. There’s no stopping once the two of you start, you can hop from one subject to the next in a matter of minutes.

- Handholding. 

- No matter how you’re sitting or laying, he’ll find a way to fall asleep on you. 

- Hugs, just lots and lots of hugs. He always pulls away saying that you smell good.

- Braiding his hair, he loves it and he’s hardly afraid to admit it.

“Hey do you think you could like, do one of those twirly things to my hair?”

- Sometimes he’ll just randomly come over to you and hand you a flower he found, they’re usually just dandelions and other weeds but you think it’s adorable.

- Cutting class together. 

- Sitting outside the school with him every morning and during breaks. His friends will usually come and join you.

- Letting him copy your homework.

- You either get high with him or just have to deal with a stoned boyfriend sometimes.

- Leaning your head on his shoulder whenever you’re standing/sitting with each other. It always makes him really happy but he can’t figure out why. (It’s because you’re proving to everyone around you that you’re together and showing him that you actually like him.)

- Late night snack runs.

- The two of you are constantly sharing food with each other, and he’s constantly stealing food off your plate like you wouldn’t just give him one of whatever you’re eating.

- Since he’s usually not too sober during parties, he rarely realizes that whoever is talking to you is actually flirting with you. He’s pretty laidback regardless though so he doesn’t get too upset over it. He usually just lets you do what you have to do, waiting for you to excuse yourself from the situation on your own.

- Finger guns, just constant finger guns. 

- If you don’t smoke, he does try to refrain from doing so whenever you’re planning to hang out. Being around you is fun enough without the weed and he “wants to be a good boyfriend” even if you assure him it doesn’t really bother you.

- Comedy movie marathons. 

- Concert dates. 

- Dancing with him to your favorite songs.

- Driving around with him and his friends.

- Double dates with Pickford and Michelle. You hang out together constantly. 

- Keeping a lighter and an extra hair tie on you in case he needs one.

- He tries to impress you whenever he can even if the things he’s trying to impress you with are somewhat made up. They aren’t outright lies just... little exaggerations, that’s all. 

- He’s honestly really caring and sweet, always checking in with you to see if you’re having fun or if you’re okay wherever the two of you go. 

- He’s very happy that he can officially brag to Don about how girls do in fact want to hear “check ya later”. 

- He laughs at all your jokes, whether that’s because he genuinely thinks you’re funny or because he’s just a little bit stoned is anyone’s guess. 

- Getting told little scary stories and cautionary tales. He thinks it’s fun to try and spook you a little bit. 

- Sitting on top of cars and stargazing/watching the sunset together.

- For someone who gets blazed a lot, he sure remembers a lot. Your birthday, anniversary, favorite color, animal, that movie you wanted to see; nothing slips his mind, especially when it comes to you. 

- To be fair, I don’t think Slater gets high constantly, we just saw him on the last day of school and while he was attending a party. So don’t worry, you won’t have a constantly baked boyfriend. 

- Watching Saturday morning cartoons together.

- You cuddle hugging each other. You usually wind up with your face pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped loosely around you. 

- Wearing his shirts.

- Talking about conspiracy theories and other weird shit. 

- Lets be honest here, your parents probably don’t like him. He’s a long haired hippie who wears weed shirts, not exactly the kind of person most people want their daughters hanging around, especially people who were teenagers in the 50′s. 

- Cheap but fun dates. He rarely has much money so the two of you find different inexpensive ways to entertain yourselves.

- Slater’s a very friendly person even if most people don’t give him the time of day. He could have a conversation with just about anyone so you’ll sometimes just have to wait for him to finish talking to whichever random person he’s become friends with.

- A lot of the time the two of you just do your own thing while enjoying each other’s company. You both agree that you don’t have to be doing something together, it’s just nice to have each other around.

- Innocent affection, you’ll learn pretty early on in your relationship that he’s a big softie.

- Holding his cigarettes for him whenever he has to do something, i.e. tie his shoelace, fix his hat, show something off, etc.

- Slater simply vibes too much to fight with you. The two of you have, maybe, gotten into two arguments during your relationship and small ones at that. They’re those little whisper “fights” that couples get into when one of them is unknowingly doing something wrong.

- Spontaneous dates/hangouts. Out of nowhere he’ll decide he wants to do something specific and you’ll just go along with it.

- He’s a clumsy boy, sometimes you’ll just pretend you didn’t see him trip as to not embarrass him.

- It’s hard to be in a bad mood when you’re with him. He’s adorable, animated and hilarious; it’s like hanging out with a cartoon character. 

- A true feminist. You’re a strong independent woman and he loves you. You inspire him, he’s so proud.

- He tells you he loves you constantly and he means it from the bottom of his heart. 

- Behind every good man is a woman and he wants you to keep on being his for the rest of time. 

[calanthemavis]

LEMON - a Renesmee Cullen one-shot, inspired by “Thirteen” (2003)

"Renesmee Cullen!", the teacher barked. I heard snickering behind me, causing me to roll my eyes. Not another day of them laughing at my name. If there was anyone to blame, it was my mother. She could have chosen any other name (well, except for Edward Jacobina or Gertrude), so why had she chosen Renesmee? To honour her mother and my father's adoptive mother. So dumb.

The teacher ignored the laughter of the students and roared at me to read the next poem in the textbook. I was stuck in an English Literature class and we were learning about poetry. I personally thought our teacher made the class even worse and more boring than it was. Neither it was advanced enough for my mind, nor my classmates seemed to cooperate and make things easier with their constant snickering and gossiping.

The material was far too easy. We were preparing for our SAT exams and we were just now learning about poetry?

I let out a small sigh before opening my mouth to read the example on the page of the textbook:

He was crippled but only his bodywas cracked It's not easy, nor is it an easy matter to explain. "Let's just leave it at that," she says and closes The Holy Book of Lies. She covers her eyes, denying to herself what she thought happened.

The class snickered yet again. What the fuck did they find amusing enough to laugh? The poem? The way I had read it?

Having just read the poem, I personally found it relatable. I could easily identify myself with the woman and the man could definitely be Jacob. The way I interpret the poem had to do with the imprinting. Ever since Jacob (in the presence of the rest of my family, of course) had revealed to me the truths of imprinting, I hadn't spoken to him. I had refused to look him in the eyes. I needed time to process this and everyone was making it even harder for me.

My heart ached that there was practically no one on this planet who appreciated me the way I was without some magic being involved. Dozens of vampires had fought to save my life but only because hybrid children (like me) were somehow alluring to everyone (supposedly). If that was the case, then why did my classmates think I was nothing special? Why hadn't they struck a conversation with me during the past couple of years? And before you blame me for being antisocial, here is my defence: every time I'd tried speaking to them, I would be met with snickering, snickering and even more snickering. So much for "Oh, honey! Everyone will love you! You're a hybrid, you attract people the way honey attracts bees!". Well, I had to be some sort of honey that was too sweet to be eaten, the kind of honey people would be repulsed by (did such thing even exist?).

The bell rang before the teacher could even give us homework. I now had to have a lunch break which would be followed by a free period. Only, however, I wasn't going to sit in the cafeteria with everybody else. I had learnt that nobody would ever want to sit by a freakshow like me. Luckily, very few people came outside, especially to the corner where I hid.

When I made sure nobody was watching me, I snuck a hand in the pocket of my jeans to retrieve a lighter and a cigarette. Thank the Lord that my parents never checked what I hid in my clothes. I didn't want to have to resort to sneaking stuff in my bra or panties - that would be gross.

I had learnt to smoke as soon as I had begun attending this school. So far nobody seemed to be aware of that. Covering the smell of cigarettes was not as hard. I could easily lie that I had stood next to smokers after classes. After a long conversation with my mother and a therapy session with one of my uncles, my dad had begun to trust me more and to not snoop on my private thoughts (the biggest mistake ever if you are the parent of a teenager).

Smoking made me feel older. It made me somehow feel connected to my human side. I was aware of the consequences, but truth to be told, I didn't care. So what if I died? Everybody died, even vampires! Fear of death, in my honest opinion, was the most ridiculous fear to ever exist. Yes, death was devastating, but it was part of life.

And when I put the cigarette between my lips, ready to inhale and exhale one more time, I closed my eyes, never allowing myself to rush. I wanted to take my time, to live in the moment. Smoking was a privilege. I could only do it outside and as long as I was out of my father's reach. If my mind was safe, then so were my cigarettes as well. I couldn't exist without them anymore. They were the only thing that still kept me where I was.

My sweet safe heaven.

*

Jacob and I were at his place. One week later, I had forgiven him, alas not so easy. I needed something from him and I had the feeling that he was the only one who could give it to me.

We were sitting on the couch in his living room, as the TV was distracting him. That was when I knew I had to execute my plan. If he had imprinted on me and he would do anything for me, then what was the problem in him being the one to have the key to my virginity? I was sick and tired of being supposedly sixteen and pure. And my father could go and shove his 1910s moral values in his ass. Or my mother's. I wasn't like them. I wanted to be cool. And the cool girls had penetrated vaginas. They thought I couldn't hear them in the toilet? Perks of being a vampire-human hybrid.

Or so I had thought.

At first, it was easy to mimic women from books and television and to begin planting small kisses on his neck, as he was still distracted by some crappy TV series. But when I attempted to straddle him, he pushed me away, knocking me onto the carpeted floor.

"What the fuck was that for?", I exclaimed, trying to hide the fact that I was in pain. My bum was throbbing.

"What is wrong with you?", he raised his voice at me. He had never done that. Not even the previous week when I had shouted in his face and hadn't wanted to see him ever again.

Even trying to play dumb didn't work. He continued screaming about how my parents would freak out and how we weren't even in a relationship. Apparently, he wanted to follow my parents' advice and to wait until marriage. Loser.

I squeezed my lips into a thin line and grabbing all of the dignity I still had left, I rushed out of the small house, seeing red. How could he do this to me? Wasn't I supposed to wear the pants in this relationship?

As soon as I was far enough away from the red house, I began pacing back and forth, feeling humiliated. Fuck Jacob. Fuck my classmates and my teachers. Fuck everyone! Only cigarettes didn't betray me. And they never would, because they were objects, toys to calm people down.

I quickly lit a cigarette to calm myself down. I thought I would be left alone, but, of course, God had another plan for me.

I was smoking, trying to be discreet when I heard footsteps. And who did I see when I looked up? Seth Clearwater. Just my fucking luck.

It was too late. He had seen me with a cigarette in my hand. I quickly dropped it and furiously stepped on it with my foot. Seth's eyes never left mine. They looked as if they were going to pop out of his face at any moment. And I couldn't blame him. If anyone I knew in real life saw me like that, they would be disturbed by the view as well. Besides, no one expected the miracle child of the Cullens to be a smoker. Well, too bad. Expectations never lead to good things anyway.

"Nessie? Was that a cigarette in your hand?", he screeched. If he was even a little bit louder than he already was, the whole reservation would hear us. As if it hadn't been more than enough that Seth had already seen me and was going to do God knew what! Especially since he was studying Medicine. I wasn't in the mood for being lectured about smoking. My body - my choice!

From anger, I pulled him by the collar of his shirt so that our eyes could meet. And then I hissed in his face like a snake:

"If you dare to tell anyone about it, I will never forgive you, got it?"

I had never seen Seth behave like that. He looked as if he had seen a bear and had pooped in his pants from fear.

I knew I had been incredibly rude to Seth. But he was Jacob's best friend. I couldn't let him tattle on me.

*

"Renesmee Carlie Cullen! What is this?", my mother roared as soon as I stepped into the main house. My father had insisted on picking me up from school that day. During the entire journey back home, he hadn't spoken a word to me. One damn word. And I was about to find out why.

Then, when we arrived home, I was taken aback. In the family room, everyone had gathered, looking like they had just witnessed a murder. At first, I was confused. What was going on? Had anyone died? And then I noticed that my mother was holding a bag. But not just any - it was the one where I kept every secret.

My heart was beating rapidly. I could feel sweat forming on my entire body. My face was probably flushed like a tomato. Now I looked like I had seen a bear and had pooped in my pants. Karma was a bitch. And I was about to pay for everything I had done.

My mother poured everything... and I mean everything on the coffee table. My hidden packets of cigarettes, my lighters, my stash of money I had been stealing from my parents for quite a while. How else could I afford my goodies? I had a green little monster inside of me that I had to satisfy!

Aunt Rosalie's gasp was the loudest. Both her palms had covered her mouth and her eyes were even wider than mine or Seth's the previous day. I imagined she was in disbelief that her own niece could do stuff like that. Even uncle Emmett couldn't calm her down.

Something was making my heart feel as if it was being squeezed with bare hands. But what was it? Was it guilt? Or was it the shame? Or was it just because all of my secrets had been exposed in a matter of seconds?

And how had my family found out in the first place?

"Seth," my father loudly confirmed my suspicions. He had to have told Jacob, who had to have informed my family. What else?

I wanted to break everything around me. To burn the whole house, including my whole family and me. Or to at least sink in the ground and to never re-appear.

Instead, when I was asked why I had done all of that shit, my body betrayed me. Cries escaped from my mouth as I dropped on the floor like a puppet without somebody to control it. What was the point to fight back? I was defeated. Outnumbered. All I could do was to allow myself to be taken in somebody's cold arms. I wasn't controlling my mind anymore. My father could now see the treatment I had been receiving from my peers for the past couple of years and how it had contributed to my new unhealthy habits. How the imprinting had deceived me, how I had almost lost all of my dignity the previous day. He could see that I wasn't okay and that I hadn't been for a while.

"It will be alright," I heard cooing in my ear, but I couldn't register whose voice it was. Scratch that. I couldn't register anything except for my own wailing.

That night I wept in my mother's cold embrace until I fell asleep. And when I opened my eyes the next morning, it was a new day.

*

Long three years had passed since that day when my secrets had been revealed to my vampiric family. Long years full of therapy sessions, family time and some dates with Jacob until we broke up. He had decided to stay back in La Push and I wanted to move on. I supposed imprint didn't always end up the way Sam and Emily had - with a happy family after all of the troubles they had endured. On the bright side, Leah (Sam's ex) was now in a relationship with Jacob. They wanted me to bring the rings on their wedding day. Aunt Alice was already sewing me a dress.

It was my first day in a new school. I was starting my second cycle of high school again by myself. I was hoping it would be better than the previous one. If not, then I didn't know what I was going to do. I couldn't be cooped up at home all day long. Despite the fact that I was going to be forever young, that didn't mean I couldn't contribute to society somehow. But that would come later on. I wanted to allow myself to be a teenager first, to gain some experience before University and from there I would decide what job to find.

My mother had driven me to school that morning. She thought it wouldn't be so bad, since I was pretending to be a ninth-grader. Most fourteen-year-olds still spent time with their families, including allowing their mothers to pick their clothes for school and to drive them to school. There was still time for everything. No need to rush. I had grown up in the blink of an eye and had caused trouble for everybody.

And now that I was chronologically almost fourteen, I could let myself behave like one. Fourteen-year-olds, as much as they despised it, still needed the adults in their life. And after years of attempting to be a pseudo-adult, so did I. No matter what, I would always need my family.

On the ride to my new school, I had sat in the front and had chosen the music to allow myself to feel calmer. The previous night, I had had a nightmare for the first time in years. I had woken up at three in the morning, drenched in sweat as if I was a little girl again, scared to death by the Volturi. I had barely slept, allowing my nerves to take over me.

Before I left the car, my mom grasped my hand. She wanted me to look at her and so I did. She made me promise her yet again that I wasn't going to do any foolish stuff anymore. Or else those three years of therapy would be for nothing.

I released a breath I had attempted to hold, "I just hope that this high school experience will be better than my previous one, you know," I wanted to chuckle, to be funny. But I found nothing amusing in my words.

My mother looked at me with a hint of concern in her eyes, "Don't worry about that. You'll do great, okay? And if something is wrong, don't hesitate to come to us. We are here for you."

As soon as she was done with her pep talk, I couldn't help but throw my arms around her, holding back tears. This time, everything would be different.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee: https://ko-fi.com/keepfaithbaby

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Fluffy Days ~ Jumin Han x Reader

Everyone, when they looked at Jumin, they saw him for his position as the Director and future CEO of one of the top 5 biggest, wealthiest companies in South Korea, so it was needless to say that, before thinking of how much he worked to perfect himself to be the best version of a professional director as he can, despite the title being given hereditary, people would still think of all the riches he was blessed with.

Many, like Zen and Yoosung, would envy him for having so much money and being able to do anything he could even dream of, including any weird fantasy like creating a wine line specifically for cats, or a cat brand...

And only he knows what else he thought of, but never tried to give form to.

However, very few ever looked at him for being a hard-working man, business-orientated, rational, logical and always putting the benefit of the company above all else.

But...

Was Jumin truly happy the way he was?

That question was answered one day, when a certain maiden called Y/N found a weird phone on the ground, and somehow found herself joining this charity organisation called RFA, and given her profession as a Vet, and having enough money for herself, and obviously not being a materialistic gold-digger...

Well, the brunet man of the RFA found himself completely entranced by this mysterious woman, who, in time, will end up being his girlfriend, and even more, his fiancee.

In due time, though, there is no rush.

The other important question that even fewer people ever ask themselves was...

Was Jumin never stressed out or over-worked?

And the answer goes pretty obvious that yes, he was, rather often, but he masks that and tries to cope with it by retorting to his childish self that has been long locked away, and yet, sometimes resurfaces when needed, so he does silly cat projects.

Now that he has a lover, however, he can allow himself to go on dates, that began rather fancy, but upon her protest, became more relaxed and casual, preferring peace and content to extravagance and luxuries.

They would go on a picnic in the forest nearby, take impulsive trips to what-ever place they felt like, sometimes throwing a dart on a world map on the wall and going wherever it lands, or going on shopping sprees for whatever self-care items they felt like, doing skin care routines together from time to time, cuddling together in the cinema room, eating commoner cinema snacks that he has to admit, aren’t too bad (although he won’t trade the ‘Melanin’ stake for popcorn).

There are, however, some days when he would just want to stay at home and cuddle with Y/N and Elizabeth the 3rd - Those days are definitely the most stressful and he needs to calm himself down before he bursts with weird emotions, which is something he prides himself to never do, and yet, he acknowledges the fact that it is not impossible, and he is still just a human, not a heartless robot as some claim he is.

As soon as he got home, Jumin sighed, going to his room, threw his blazer on the chair nearby, and folding up his sleeves, he let himself fall on his bed, looking at the ceiling with an exhausted and annoyed expression, before closing his eyes altogether, taking a few deep breaths to calm down.

Sighing at the deplorable state her beloved was in, she went to the bathroom and drew hot water, putting in some lavender bath salt, lighting up some incense sticks, some scented candles with lavender, vanilla and cinnamon, made the lights be dim, put bubble solution and waited until it was hot and steamy in the bath, as she searched for some calming Lo-Fi music, choosing some mountain sounds that had soft bird chirping and forest sounds included.

When everything was perfect, she threw in a Lush northern lights bathbomb, loving how great the purple and blue blended together, and went out, sitting on the side of the bed next to Jumin, gently brushing away the hair from his face and kissing his forehead.

“Come on, darling, I drew you a bath. Let’s help you relax a bit...Shall we?” she spoke in that soft voice that could always sooth his worries away.

He didn’t have the power to say much, but humming positively, he sluggishly followed Y/N to the bathroom, where his eyes widen and how aesthetically pleasing and relaxing the bathroom became.

It was almost like he never had any idea how relaxing a bath can be, and not as much of a ‘chore’ as he felt it was.

Y/N told him to take his clothes off already and get in the water before it gets cold, which seemed to make him chuckle in amusement, but did so without any protesting, and he found himself sighing at how good it felt having his sore, tense muscles tended by the hot water.

She pushed him gently down by the shoulders until he was up to his chin in water, then went to pour a glass of his favourite red wine for him to enjoy.

“Is this how you always take baths?” he asked in a lower voice. “Most of the time, yes. I make this ritual whenever I feel the need to properly relax, and it sort of became like a Pavlovian reflex, y’know?” she snorter in amusement, sitting on the ground next to the bathroom. “I see...Now I understand why you were always looking forward to them.” he nodded slightly in agreement. “I’m happy if it can help you as well. I haven’t seen you this stressed since the whole Sarah and Elizabeth the 3rd problem.” she gave him a sad smile, which made him look deep into her eyes with a pondering look. “I don’t appreciate too many unexpected things coming up all at once.” he nodded, leaning back once again. “What kind of music is this?” “Oh, this! It’s called Lo-Fi, and it’s mostly for relaxing. It has all sorts of genres and types, but this, in particular, is a mountain Lo-Fi. Do you like it? I know it’s different to the classical music you always had, but I thought maybe a little change wouldn’t hurt. I-I can change it back to Debussy and Vivaldi if you don’t like it!” she blinked, her eyes widening at the realisation that she messed up, but he could only chuckle at her cute reactions. “I don’t mind this. It’s pretty nice. Perhaps, as you said, a change in the usual routine wouldn’t hurt once in a while.” he gave her a soft smile, which left her weak to her knees. “Sweet. Let me pamper you up a bit, then.” she grinned, as she started applying a hydrating face mask, putting two big cucumber slices on his eyes. “Why...Are you doing all this for me, Y/N?” he asked, unsure of himself. “Why? Because you’re stressed out an you need to relax, obviously.” she spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yes, I know, but...Why...?” he asked again, putting emphasis on the last world. “Ohh, I think I get what you mean. Because I love you, of course. I want to spoil you because you love me, and you care about me, and you make me happy, so of course, I want to do anything in my power to reciprocate and make sure you know how much I love you.” her words were so sweet and innocent that Jumin felt the burning need to throw away those stupid cucumber slices and look at her beautiful face, but decided against that impulse, so he won’t upset her and her thoroughly prepared routine.

After that, she took away the slices and gently washed away the cream-mask, in circular motions, as he massaged his face, and he truly felt in Heaven for the first time in ages.

If this wasn’t bliss, he had no idea what else could be.

And if that wasn’t enough, the shower gel she put on the sponge smelled like home-made chocolate, and as she gently rubbed his shoulders, arms and neck, he had to use all the self-restraint he had not to grab her arms and get her in the tub with him so he can hold her tightly to his chest and kiss her until he forgot to breathe altogether.

It lasted for at least an hour, but Jumin got a bit bored and restless of staying in the bathtub, and told the girl he’s done for now, she brought him his bath robe and told him to get in his sleeping wear while she cleans and organises stuff around the bathroom, as it was one of her little quirks, to have everything in order, which always amuses him since he does the exact same thing all the time, going as far as to scold Assistant Kang for not putting the folders on his desk at the exact millimeters specified.

As soon as she was ready, Y/N did a short night time skin care routine and went to her lover, cuddling with him and bringing out the laptop and putting on his favourite movie on the huge plasma TV that he only ever turned on thanks to her.

Jumin wasn’t even sure if he was paying attention to the movie, as he let Y/N hug his head to her chest, gently playing with his hair in a way that made him almost sleepy, yet very warm and content, his past stress and worries being long eradicated.

He remembered her saying that since she was very little, and even now, when she’s all grown up, she always loves crawling in her mum’s arms in bed and letting her play with her hair, as it was one of the few things that can combat her insomnia and help her sleep peacefully...

And now, she was doing it to him, and he felt more than honoured to be subject to such personal, intimate and comforting act of pampering.

That is the kind of privilege he would do anything to achieve, and it was happening to him, as the angel that his girlfriend is was always the one person who could somehow make him feel happy by merely existing.

Outside was a gorgeous night, and Jumin’s dormitory was illuminated by nothing more than the twinkling stars and the glorious silvery light of the moon that was looking over the two lovers holding each other under the covers of the master bed, while faint jazz music played in the background, as it was one of their little before-sleep rituals, still feeling the little euphoria from the movie they just watched.

“Jumin...I love you. And I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for me. Never forget that, okay?” the h/c girl spoke in a gentle voice, as the man ran his fingers through her long locks, just as he would play with his cat’s fur, and she’d start purring. “I won’t forget, Y/N. I’m glad you were able to convince me to meet up with you, despite the circumstances, back then when we barely knew each other. No, actually, I am glad that you found that phone.” Jumin’s velvety voice spoke out, ringing in her ears. “Want to go out tomorrow? I have a free day tomorrow at the clinic. We can go have a walk through the forest or the park, if you want.” Y/N suggested, drawing shapes on the man’s chest absent-mindedly. “I don’t see why not. Elizabeth the 3rd is at V’s and I’ll have Assistant Kang erase everything from tomorrow’s schedule. I believe I had some meeting with another business with a group of women...Not something I’m too fond of.” he groaned slightly, making the girl chuckle and raise slowly, resting her form on her elbow. “What, you don’t want to throw around too many compliments and sickeningly sweet sugar-coated words in just one day?” she chuckled, a teasing smirk on her face. “The more I look at you, the more you remind me of a vixen. I don’t see any reason why I should carelessly throw around compliments to thirsty women who are only in it for my money and looks, when I could direct them all to that one person who holds my heart.” Jumin shot right back, making the girl dramatically put her hand over her heart, mimicking that she got shot by Cupid’s arrow. “Mon Dieu, my ears can’t believe what they’re hearing, are you sure you’re not trying to charm me again?” she leaned down to plant a soft kiss on his lips, as one of her hands gently brushed away the fringe from his face. “There is no end line to the path to someone’s affections. I believe that once you found the special someone, one should continue to show their appreciation towards said person.” his words soothed her heart like a nice glass of rose syrup as he snaked his hands around her waist and brought her back into an embrace, her head resting on his shoulder. “You always know how to make my heart beat like crazy.” she nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck, giggling softly, making the man shiver slightly. “Just like a fox.” he muttered, chuckling lightly.

[electrickoushi]

cook me up some love

a/n: my first work in my valentine’s series! i literally wrote this at 6am because i woke up and couldn’t sleep, so if something doesn’t make sense.... please ignore haha. thank you for reading :) 

pairing: miya osamu x suna rintarou tags: fluff, like 4 suggestive lines, the word kink twice at the end wc: 1.7k 

Rintarou can’t remember when or why he agreed to working as the cashier at Onigiri Miya on Valentine’s Day, yet here he is, ringing couples up who are actually getting the chance to enjoy their special day. Naturally, his sour mood doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu though, who had planned a special surprise for his boyfriend all along.

The restaurant smelled like spices and ingredients and whatever the hell else Osamu put into his cooking.

Rintarou clicked the button on the register with his index finger to open and close the drawer with a ding each time. His face rested on his hand, squishing his cheek and molding his expression into one of pure boredom.

“Excuse me.”

Rintarou looked up to find a couple waiting to pay for their meal. He wordlessly took the receipt, entered the total, took their money or swiped their card, gave them their change if they had any, stabbed the receipt onto the pointy thing, gave them another receipt, wished them a Happy Valentine’s Day, and returned to playing with the register.

This happened countless times until Rintarou felt the angry eyes of his boyfriend on his back. He gulped. Everyone knew you didn’t mess with Osamu when it came to his cooking and restaurant.

“Rin, please stop that. I've had multiple customers complain about you.”

At least he’s still using a nickname, which means I can’t be in too much trouble.

“Sorry.” He clicked it again, the register drawer flying open.

“Rintarou!” Osamu growled.

Oh, he was in for it now.

Osamu was already sweaty and stressed from being the head chef of the kitchen. His boyfriend’s antics that were driving away customers was just the cherry on top to an already difficult evening.

“You, watch the register,” Osamu snapped. “I need to have a talk with Suna here.”

Oh God, last name basis. That’s bad.

He dragged the faux cashier into the storage room where they wouldn’t be bothered and Osamu could properly yell at him without disrupting the customers.

At least, that’s what Rintarou thought.

Instead, when Osamu shut the door, he turned around and hugged Rintarou.

“I’m sorry for making you work tonight. I know you’d rather be at home, watching a movie or something.”

Rintarou was surprised but wrapped his arms around Osamu’s shoulders. “I just want to be with you. I hate seeing all these couples enjoying their Valentine’s Day while you’re stuck in the kitchen. I hardly ever get to see you.”

Osamu kissed his boyfriend’s cheek, taking in a whiff of his cologne. He ran a hand through Rintarou’s brown hair and felt him soften at the touch. “I know, but I have a surprise for later tonight. Didn’t you wonder why I decided to close early on such a profitable night?”

“Nine is considered early?”

“For a day like this, yes. So just work a few more hours for me and then we close, and I’ll have your surprise all ready. Can you do that?”

Rintarou found himself nodding along, enjoying the way Osamu’s hand felt running along his scalp and his hot breath tickling his ear. Osamu’s other hand was rubbing small circles on his waist.

“You know,” Rintarou started, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand to lead it higher. “I think it’s pretty soundproof in here, as in no one would hear us if we just-”

“Shit, I forgot I have something on the stove. Okay, see you later!” Osamu kissed him once more, this time on the lips, and shut the door behind him.

Rintarou gaped, realizing he just got played for the fool he was. Like a child, he was placated by the promise of a surprise. And to think, he believed he got the less evil twin.

Rintarou stepped out of the storage and resumed his position as cashier. The dinging stopped now that his mind was focused on something else. Namely, being fucked in the storage room of a restaurant owned by his boyfriend.

“Sir, can we pay now?”

God, he really needed to stop spacing out.

“Yeah, sorry.” He rang them up and told them to have a good night.

Every so often, Osamu would come out of his kitchen and check on Rintarou. It was under the guise of affection but he knew that Osamu was just making sure he wasn’t aggravating any more customers.

It was 8:45 when Osamu had flipped the sign and told the hostess to stop letting people in. Hopefully that would mean people would leave relatively soon, but some stayed until they were explicitly told to get out by an employee. That was Rintarou’s favorite part of the job.

The fifteen minutes passed by so slowly that Rintarou started to think the clocks were broken. He missed Osamu.

Yikes, when did I start sounding like such a simp?

Only one couple was left, and they had been sitting there for a good hour. Rintarou would know because when he got bored with playing with the register, he would people watch. This couple in particular seemed to be in a brand new relationship, the stage where you asked surface level questions and gave surface level answers.

By 9:05, Osamu walked past Rintarou at the counter and towards the couple.

“Hello, we are closed now, and I see that you two have finished. I hope you enjoyed your meal. If you could just pay and leave please, I would greatly appreciate that.”

“We wanted to order dessert,” the woman said, looking at the desert menus posted on each table.

“The kitchens are closed.”

The man interjected, “You’re the head chef, right? The Miya that runs this place. Can’t you just whip something up? It shouldn’t take that long.”

“Like I said, sir, the kitchens are closed.”

Rintarou watched the exchange. He knew his boyfriend could handle it since he’s dealt with so many rude customers over the months. That didn’t mean Rintarou liked seeing his boyfriend get stepped on though. Being nice and polite was very much an Osamu thing, but Rintarou never believed in such diplomacy.

He got up and walked towards the table. “Get out.”

Osamu and the couple looked at Rintarou.

“How rude. Are you going to let your employee talk to me like that? He should be fired,” the man said, glaring at Rintarou.

The brunette wasn’t fazed. He just glared back, using the same stone-cold expression he used to intimidate his opponents on the court.

“He’s right. Get out of my restaurant and don’t ever come back again,” Osamu sneered, fed up with their behavior. They had no right to treat Rintarou like that, or himself, for that matter.

The couple shuffled out of their booth and walked away, the woman’s heels clicking on the ground. Osamu rolled his eyes and took their dishes.

“Sorry they didn’t pay,” Rintarou said. If he hadn’t butted in, Osamu might have gotten somewhere with them, but patience was never his strong suit.

“It’s fine. I’m glad you got them to leave.”

Rintarou followed Osamu as he walked back into the kitchen and dumped their dishes into a giant sink. He rolled up his sleeves before spraying the food off them and slotting them into their giant industrial dishwasher. Rintarou felt like he should help, but he just watched, enamored with the simple action of his boyfriend doing dishes.

A few minutes later, the hostess came up to Osamu and said something in his ear. Rintarou didn’t even realize she was still here. He couldn’t hear what they said over the running water, but it must have been something important since Osamu nodded and dried his hands. He shut the water off and smiled at Rintarou.

“Close your eyes.”

“I do not want to run into a hot stove and die.”

Osamu slapped two hands over Rintarou’s eyes. “Walk forward. It’s literally a straight line from here.”

Rintarou did as he was told. He was led to a table by his boyfriend who was grumbling about how he walked at the pace of a grandpa.

Osamu removed his hands, and Suna blinked rapidly to adjust to the lighting. He looked up to find Osamu with his apron on and a pad of paper in hand. The table was set for two, even though neither of them needed a menu.

“Hello, welcome to Onigiri Miya. My name is Osamu, and I’ll be your server today. Can I get you started with a drink?”

Rintarou cracked a smile. “Osamu…”

“Since you won the boyfriend lottery, everything’s on the house today and will be cooked by yours truly.”

Well he wasn’t going to say no to that.

Osamu bent down, briefly shedding his character. “You want your regular?” he asked, tucking the pen and paper away.

Rintarou nodded and Osamu stood back up. “That’ll be right up, sir.”

The nice hostess brought him a glass of water while Osamu worked his magic in the kitchen. Rintarou sipped on his water before getting up and changing the music on the speakers since he had boyfriend privileges.

The cheery pop music shut off and was replaced with his and Osamu’s shared playlist. Arctic Monkeys floated throughout the restaurant.

Sitting back down, Rintarou waved goodbye to the hostess. She waved back and wished him a Happy Valentine’s Day.

Only a few seconds later, Osamu came out with two plates of steaming food. He set the plates down before sitting down himself.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Rin,” Osamu smiled before shoving a ginormous bite of rice into his mouth.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Samu.”

They ate and talked happily, remarking on various customers and incidents that happened during the day. Drinks spilled on tables, people dined and dashed, minor fires that almost burned the entire place down started in the kitchen, the usual really.

After they ate more than enough leftover heart-shaped cookies, Osamu cleared their plates and dumped them in the sink, deeming them a problem for tomorrow.

He did some owner stuff that Rintarou never bothered to understand before shutting the lights off in the kitchen.

“How’s the storage room looking?” Rintarou asked, side eyeing his boyfriend.

“We can just go home, you know. Or is it a kink thing?”

Rintarou admitted unabashedly, “It’s definitely a kink thing. Put your apron back on. I’ve dreamt of this moment for a good four hours now.”

Osamu shoved the keys back into his pocket and dropped his bag on the closest chair. He dug his dirty apron out, letting his boyfriend drape it over his neck.

“Suna Rintarou, you sure are something else.”

[stiltonbasket]

In which Wei Wuxian needs a break, Jiang Cheng is smitten, and Xiao Xingchen finally makes his way to a safe haven.

Unfortunately for Wei Wuxian, twenty-five-year-old father of two and co-owner of Lotus Pier Bakery, his days always start at four o’clock in the morning. 

Right after his alarm rings, he showers (sometimes) brushes his teeth (if he remembers to) and combs his hair (if he can’t get away with wrangling it into a messy braid, which works for three days out of every five) before stumbling down the stairs to the kitchen, where he spends the next two hours mixing pastry dough and preparing enormous rows of stuffed baozi. After the buns and pastries are done—and pastry is always finicky, even for him—he takes out his pans of bread dough and bakes until his hands are numb from kneading and mixing, right before whipping up a sponge batter and making four different flavors of cake with it: plain, chocolate, a green tea sponge that is ridiculously popular despite only smelling like tea (though it’s still a good cake, as proven by his sister’s fondness for it) and strawberry. He also puts on a pot of lotus and pork rib soup, since the bakery serves meals during lunch and provides a free cup of soup with every order.

At seven-thirty, he hears the sleepy sounds of his brother moving about on the second floor, going about his own preparations for the day. Jiang Cheng’s morning responsibilities include getting himself ready, making sure Wei Wuxian’s six-year-old-son (an actual ray of sunshine, brought to life in the shape of a boy called Wen Yuan) is dressed and packed for school, and giving baby Xiao-Yu his first bottle before the breakfast rush begins. 

Wei Wuxian’s children are utter delights, though, so he counts that part as one of the many privileges that come with being an uncle to the two most precious baby boys in the world. 

“There’s also A-Ling,” Jiang Cheng says grumpily, when he comes down with shaving foam still stuck to his ears and A-Yu wriggling in his arms. “And I don’t have to change his diapers, Wei Wuxian.”

“It’s only once a day,” Wei Wuxian coaxes. He grabs the baby from Jiang Cheng and gives him a smacking kiss on the nose, his heart melting all over again as Xiao-Yu tries to imitate him and ends up licking his face instead. “How’s the most perfect baby in the universe doing today, baobei?”

Xiao-Yu only babbles at him, since he only just passed his tenth-month birthday and can’t really manage speech outside of the occasional “baba,” (directed at Wei Wuxian, of course) or the odd “mama,” which is also directed at Wei Wuxian because he is, as he tells everyone who asks him out and then runs the second he explains, very much a single father. Parenthood’s very bad for the dating scene, but he’ll gladly remain single for the rest of his life to make sure he can give his best to A-Yuan and Xiao-Yu. 

Not that any of them but Yanli ever thought about anything like romance or marriage, after the Jiang estate burned to the ground with their parents in it and left them dependent on a family friend’s charity for the next year and a half. 

A-Yuan comes bounding into the kitchen five minutes later, dressed in a tidy little button-up and neat grey shorts with a backpack strapped to his shoulders. “A-Die!” he cries, flinging his arms around Wei Wuxian’s waist and nuzzling against his stomach until his father bursts out laughing at how much it tickles. “A-Die, I’m ready. What do I get for lunch today?”

“First things first,” Wei Wuxian tells him, as A-Yu observes them through the mesh walls of his playpen with one chubby finger in his mouth. “Did you and your shushu finish all your breakfast!”

“Mm, we did! Shushu made eggs!”

“Then you can go pick out one of the buns in the cooling rack for you, and one for A-Ling. And two for your peacock uncle, since he always eats too much.”

Once A-Yuan makes his choices—a soft baozi with mushrooms in it for him, and and a green onion pastry with tomatoes for Jin Ling—Wei Wuxian fills up two tiny thermoses with hot soup and then fills up A-Yuan’s Spiderman water bottle, which is completely covered in the rabbit stickers he hoards every time someone takes him to the doctor’s office. 

“Lunches packed,” Jiang Cheng drones, starting up the various drinks machines behind the bakery counter as A-Yuan grabs his cousin’s lunchbox and tries to pack it himself. “I am now going to make coffee. And tea. And milk tea, since my elder brother is a cruel, cruel man.”

“The McDonalds down the street would have put us out of business if we hadn’t started serving bubble tea,” Wei Wuxian scolds. “And Wen Qing likes the way you cook the tapioca, so don’t even complain.”

He leaves Jiang Cheng blushing in front of the gargantuan coffee-maker and hustles A-Yuan out through the little door that separates the staff-only area from the dining room just before a large, expensive car pulls up just outside the sign in the window that reads Lotus Pier Bakery. 

“It’s Peacock-uncle,” A-Yuan pipes up, still amazed by the sight of Jin Zixuan’s luxury sports car, as if he doesn’t ride to and from school in it every day. “And A-Ling, and Auntie!”

Yanli breezes in half a second later, pouncing on A-Yuan the moment she crosses the threshold and covering his face with kisses. “Good morning, Yuan-bao,” she sings, as A-Yuan turns into putty in her arms and tucks his face against her shoulder. “Are you ready for school?”

“I’m always ready,” he informs her, before proudly displaying the two lunchboxes hanging from his elbow and the brown-paper bag held carefully in one hand. “See, I packed A-Ling’s lunch, all by myself! And Peacock-uncle’s!”

“Peacock-uncle’s going to be hungry again by lunchtime,” Jiang Cheng calls, sticking his head up over the espresso maker. “And he’ll be here at noon with the rest of the Jin crowd, just wait.”

“A-Yuan won’t be here at lunchtime,” Wen Yuan says peacefully. “A-Yuan will be at school.”

After that, Wei Wuxian gets A-Yuan settled in his booster seat, squeezes A-Ling, and waves at his brother-in-law with Jiang Yanli until the car vanishes down the street, leaving Yanli to put up her hair and march back into the kitchen to start cooking for rush hour. 

“A-Cheng, you’ve got the drinks and the registers covered, right?” she asks, before grinning from ear to ear as a young woman with a badge clipped to her shirt comes in and stares at Jiang Cheng across the counter until his face looks more like a roasted beet than anything remotely human. “Good morning, Wen Qing!”

“I’ll take my usual coffee order and a spinach roll,” Wen Qing says, sending a short, small smile at Yanli—which is more than anyone else except Jiang Cheng ever gets, because Wen Qing is a medical resident with no sympathy for anyone but her patients, A-Yuan, and inexplicably Wei Wuxian’s bad-tempered brother, who loses most of his senses whenever she walks into Lotus Pier and only gets them back about an hour after she leaves. 

“You’ve just missed A-Yuan,” Wei Wuxian complains, stocking the display case next to the cash register. “He kept asking when we could see you yesterday, you know.”

“I’ll try to get up earlier tomorrow,” she yawns, carefully not paying attention when Jiang Cheng overturns a box of sugar packets in an effort to wrap up her spinach roll as neatly as he can. “Or you could video call me at night, when those of us who aren’t bakers are most active. Like normal people do.”

“I go to bed at eight o’clock like an old man, thank you very much,” he sniffs. “My schedule’s murder on my old lifestyle—”

“You mean spending all night gatecrashing sorority parties like you used to back in college?”

“—and I have children to look after,” he finishes sagely. “Do you want soup, too, Wen Qing? I can throw in a free bowl.”

“We won’t make any money that way,” Jiang Cheng scolds him, providing a wonderful show of hypocrisy as he hands Wen Qing a cup of coffee with three protective sleeves on it to make sure she doesn’t burn her hands, a heat-safe straw jammed down the side, and a warm paper bag containing at least one more fresh pastry than Wei Wuxian remembers her ordering. “Here. Good luck today, Miss Wen.”

Wen Qing tosses a mouthful of coffee down her throat and then turns to stare at Jiang Cheng.

“If it weren’t for you and your perfect coffee,” she says, “I would have dropped out years ago.”

And then she strides out the door and climbs back into her car, leaving Jiang Cheng dumbstruck in her wake as Wei Wuxian doubles over and screams with laughter until he cries. 

“Stop that,” Jiang Cheng mutters, when Xiao-Yu’s adorable baby giggles ring out alongside his father’s. “Look, now Xiao-Yu’s doing it.”

“He knows denial when he sees it,” Wei Wuxian tells him. “Honestly, A-Cheng. A-Yu’s just trying to help!”

The rest of the day goes on much as days at Lotus Pier Bakery usually do; happily, but so very busily that Wei Wuxian ends up staggering back upstairs for a second shower with Xiao-Yu when the lunch rush ends. The eatery serves coffee and baked goods from opening to closing, and is open for dine-in restaurant meals from eleven to two-thirty; Yanli does most of the cooking, while Wei Wuxian does the prep work, and Jiang Cheng handles the take-out baked goods sales and the drinks and helps wait tables until time comes to wipe down the tables in the dining area after the lunch customers finally finish eating—and the result of it all is that all three of them are so drained that they can hardly keep their eyes open, especially after dealing with parties bigger than about four or five. 

“How is it only three-thirty,” Wei Wuxian moans, slumping wearily over the counter with Xiao-Yu tied to his back when Jin Zixuan comes by to drop A-Yuan off and pick Yanli up later that afternoon. “I want to sleep, A-Jie.”

“Have you looked into getting any more part-timers?” his sister asks, pressing a cool, soft hand to his cheek. “I know Xue Yang’s doing well, but he only comes three times a week.”

“A-Yang’s a gremlin,” Wei Wuxian dismisses. “And he barely talks, it scares the customers. I was thinking of having someone move into your old bedroom, but of course it isn’t so easy with Yuan-bao and A-Yu here.”

“What about Wen Ning?” Jin Zixuan suggests, absentmindedly turning A-Yuan upside down and swinging him back and forth while Jin Ling begs for a turn on his other side. “A-Yuan’s his cousin, and he dotes on A-Yu, so it could work out, couldn’t it?”

“Not until he finishes his degree. And he’s got a job lined up after that, so there wouldn’t be any point,” Jiang Cheng shrugs. Wei Wuxian and his siblings all went to college, graduating with degrees in dance performance, mechanical engineering, and economics, in order of age—but then the fire came along and ruined everything about a year before he and Jiang Cheng were set to graduate, and all the three of them wanted to do after that was spend as much time together as they possibly could, so they ended up opening the bakery instead. “And we don’t know anyone else well enough.”

��Well, something will turn up,” Yanli soothes him, tiptoeing up to kiss his forehead and then Wei Wuxian’s before lifting A-Ling into her arms. “Promise me you’ll get some rest, A-Cheng. And A-Xian, you have to promise, too.”

“We promise,” they say dutifully, before watching her leave with her husband and son. 

Letting her go doesn’t seem half so bad these days, since they know how loved she is at home, and that she’s always going to come back to them in the morning. 

“She’s right, you know,” Jiang Cheng sighs, after a long pause. “We really do need to get some new staff, or we’ll run ourselves into the ground.”

“I’ll start making ads tomorrow night,” Wei Wuxian promises, sending A-Yuan upstairs for his afternoon nap and dearly wishing he could go have a nap, too. “Let’s get through the rest of the day, and then I’ll put in a call to the printers’ so we can put up flyers.”

___

As it turns out, however, the answer to their quandary comes about two hours later, after Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng put the “closed” signs in all the windows and shutter the blinds behind them. Jiang Cheng is just about to unroll the blinds on the reinforced glass doors when he takes in a sharp breath and shouts for Wei Wuxian, who comes rolling out of the dining room in five seconds flat before trotting over to stand beside him. 

“Is it just me,” he says, “or is there someone staring at me outside?”

Wei Wuxian looks. There definitely is someone outside, dressed in shabby, misshapen clothes and holding a dark little bundle to his chest, and that someone looks more than a bit familiar. 

Almost, he realizes, like a certain long-absent member of his family, from whom he has not heard anything in the past two years save for three very hurried phone calls. 

“No way,” he breathes, unlocking the door and running out into the street just in time for the someone to fall straight into his arms and burst into tears. “Xingchen!”

[muertawrites]

The Lovers of Ba Sing Se - Part 1 (Zuko x Reader) [Modern Au]

Summary: Zuko isn’t used to being around people who aren’t afraid to share their every emotion. Meeting you during his time in Ba Sing Se changes that, and changes him for the better.

Word Count: 4,000

Author’s Note: Lmao the only person I’m writing this for is myself. Sorry not sorry. I usually try really hard to keep specifics to a minimum in my self-insert works, but this time I didn’t; I wrote about myself because, honestly, this fic is my love letter to me. I relate to Zuko so much and a huge part of the reason I love him is because he reminds me of myself - this fic is about me learning to love myself again after the people I loved and trusted most betrayed me, and saying a gigantic “fuck you” everyone who ever did anything to destroy my self worth. Part 2 is when I finally live out my fantasy of curb stomping Mai - tomorrow, same bat-time, same bat-channel. 

Also, shameless plug, but I’m about 100 followers away from 1k, and I have some really fun stuff planned for when we get there so if you like this fic or any of my others, please follow! I love doing this and my goal is to devote as much effort as possible to it as I can, and I truly wouldn’t be able to do it without your support. Thank you so much for all of it. I’m so excited for the future of this blog and everyone who makes it possible ♥

~ Muerta

Of all the things Zuko thought might kill him, falling dishware was the last thing he would have ever considered a possibility.

He was sitting in the alley behind the Jasmine Dragon, making the most of his smoke break, when a ceramic cooking pot rained onto the pavement in front of him, shattering into trillions of pieces. Startled, he jumped back, dropping his cigarette as he craned his neck upwards; he spotted a head of brightly dyed hair staring down at him from the third floor balcony above.

“Oh shit,” you cried.

Within a minute, you burst through the back door of the neighboring building, panting and looking just as terrified as the young man you'd almost killed. Zuko stared at you, mouth slightly agape.

“Oh my god I'm so sorry,” you gushed. “Are you okay?? I didn't see you standing there, oh my god, oh my fucking god please tell me you're okay.”

Zuko was taken aback, unable to do anything for a moment but gaze at you in confusion, almost wonder. People in the Fire Nation were never this publicly expressive, even when barely avoiding manslaughter - he didn't quite know what to do with you, other than mutter that he was alright.

“I'm so, so sorry,” you blurted again. “You're sure you're okay? You don't have any glass on you or anything? Or need to be treated for shock?”

“No, I'm fine,” Zuko flatly replied. He nodded towards the trash bins across the alley. “You do know your building has those, though. You don't need to throw your old stuff off your balcony.”

You blushed, smiling sheepishly.

“It wasn't old,” you confessed. “It was a birthday gift from my best friend. Well… ex-best friend.”

Zuko huffed, pulling another cigarette from the pocket of his jeans and lighting it, looking down at his hands.

“Never had a breakup, huh?” he guessed.

“Oh, I've had plenty,” you told him. “They just don't get any easier.”

Zuko looked up at you, taking a long drag from his smoke. Your eyes were cast into the middle of the alley, settled on the shards of what once had been a reasonably nice piece of cookware. The shock and terror had faded from your expression, falling into one that was pained, anger and despair shadowing your features; you may as well have roundhouse kicked him in the chest, the look on your face mirroring the ache between his ribs. You hadn't revealed anything to him, but he knew instantly that your pain was the same as his.

He slid another cigarette from the box, offering it to you. You shook your head, lowering yourself onto the back stoop of the Jasmine Dragon; he found himself doing the same without thinking.

“I'm sorry about your pot,” he said, clumsily attempting to lighten the atmosphere. “It looked nice.”

You smiled faintly, pulling your knees to your chest and letting your chin rest atop them.

“I don't cook much, so it wasn't a huge loss,” you replied. “It was kind of cathartic, actually. I feel better.”

Zuko chuckled, tapping a bit of ash onto the ground between his feet.

“Good. Maybe feeling better will keep you from accidentally killing someone.”

You laughed, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Have I mentioned I'm sorry about that?” you winced.

“Hey, no sweat,” Zuko assured you. “It's not the first time. I've had people try to kill me on purpose before.”

He stood, stubbing out his half-smoked cigarette and pocketing it. He offered a hand to help you up, which you took, finding comfort in the strength of his palm as it wrapped around your forearm.

“I've gotta get back to work,” he told you. “You don't have any other gifts from your ex-best friend laying around, do you?”

You giggled, shaking your head.

“No,” you promised, “just that one. Thank you. For not threatening to press charges.”

Zuko laughed, realizing he was doing so for the first time in what had probably been years. The light feeling in his chest got even lighter when he noticed he was still holding your arm.

“Will I see you around?” he asked, the words escaping before they were even fully formed in his head.

You nodded, finally letting go of his hand.

“Yeah,” you said. “I'll see you around …?”

“Lee,” he told you. “I'm Lee.”

You smiled.

“Cool. I'll see you around, Lee.”

You saw Lee again a few days later, but not in a way you really wanted to. You were at work, standing outside the bar on the district high street with a coworker, attempting to attract some business during the weeknight lull; Lee spotted you while on his way to the nearby market, seeing you from a block or two away but doing his best to approach you as if he was bumping into you completely by accident.

Of course, this would be perfectly normal and not at all a weird way to run into a new acquaintance, if only the bar you worked in wasn’t catered towards men with a lolita fetish. You were dressed head to toe in pink and white, corseted in a risque bustier and frocked with a poofy, frilly mini skirt that was purposely too short, revealing the bum of your equally as ruffled panties; when you turned around and came face to face with the cute guy from the tea shop next door, you hoped someone would throw a cooking pot on top of you, death seeming like a much better option than attempting to explain yourself to someone who’d already had the privilege of meeting you during an emotional breakdown.

Lee blushed as pink as your costume, smiling coyly.

“We did say we’d see each other around,” he greeted you.

You grinned, relaxing a little.

“You’re not here to have a drink, are you?” you teased him. He laughed, his face turning redder as he reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“No,” he assured you, “I’m actually on my way to get some groceries. Figured I’d say hey.”

“Oh!” you exclaimed, “My break is in about fifteen minutes! If you don’t mind waiting I could go with you? I’ll buy you dinner to make up for almost killing you the other day.”

Lee chuckled, nodding.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind that,” he agreed. “... I don’t have to wait inside though, do I?”

“I mean, my boss would like it,” you told him, “but it’s so dead in there I don’t think she’d let you leave if you did.”

“Noted,” Lee replied. “I’ll wait in the coffee shop across the street, then.”

Not long after, you tossed a hoodie and a pair of jeans over your bustier and undies, meeting him outside the cafe he was stationed at and making your way to the market. You bustled alongside each other in a fray of other people, rubbing shoulders or hips as you were jostled along with the current.

“So,” Lee blurted, attempting to break the silence between you (although it wasn’t nearly as awkward as it probably should have been), “how’d you end up working in a fetish bar?”

Your simpered, cheeks going ever so slightly rosy.

“How do you think?” you jabbed sarcastically. “I needed money and they pay really well. It’s nice knowing I’ll be able to afford rent every month. What about you? How’d you end up at the tea shop?”

“My uncle owns it,” Lee explained. “We’re the only family we have left, so… we stick together.”

You nodded, understanding and not pushing the question any further.

“It’s not so bad,” he went on. “At least I don’t have to wear pigtails to work.”

You huffed with laughter, leaning over so that your shoulder purposely, playfully shoved his.

“Honestly, my job isn’t awful,” you admitted. “My coworkers are cool, and my boss is really kind. It’s also pretty fun getting to dress up in costume every day; it's like Halloween, except I get to do it whenever I want to.”

Suddenly, you paused, gasping.

“Look!”

You grabbed hold of his arm, startling him a bit but too excited to care. You pointed towards a nearby stand, in which an elderly man was frying pieces of dough. He twisted each in an elaborate knot, every order getting a different design. They were like miniature sculptures, too ornate to even think about eating, but the smell of rich spices and molten sugar was too tempting to ignore.

“I love this stand!” you cried. “He isn't always here, but I get something every time he is. Come on, I'll get us some to split!”

With your hand still curled around his elbow, you dragged Lee through the market throng. As he watched you order, making friendly conversation with the old man, he found himself feeling perplexed; he'd never met someone so comfortable with their emotions, so willing to let every part of them be seen. He wondered how you got so fearless, or if you even had to put effort into being so candid.

He found himself thinking about Mai, how cold and empty she was. He was reminded of the chill he felt around her, the bitter sting she often left in his chest, even during tender moments. Being around you was different; even having just met you, you made him feel invigorated but at ease, the tension in his muscles loosening naturally just from the energy of your presence. It was strange, but refreshing - he found himself grinning along with you as you left the stand, finding a place to sit and enjoy your pastry.

“I got us one with curry, and one with cream filling,” you told him, ripping each serving in half to share. “This guy is an artist, I swear. You're not going to be the same person after this.”

You looked up as you took a bite of the savory half of your meal, halting when you noticed the strange look Lee was giving you.

“What?” you asked him.

He shrugged, fixing his eyes on the pastry in his hand.

“You're just different,” he answered. “Where I'm from, people aren't open like you are. You're really… yourself. It's nice.”

You smiled, unable to help but blush. Bubbles fizzed in your chest, making you feel lightheaded and giddy.

“I think it's because so many people told me not to be when I was a kid,” you mused. “They tried to make me hide the parts of myself I really liked, so I made them show even more, just to show them that they couldn't change me. That I was stronger than their cruelty.”

Zuko felt as if he'd been hit by lightning. He didn't know what it was, but something about you terrified him - it was the same thing that made him want to latch onto you and not let go. Despite having met you just days ago, he already felt as if he'd known you a lifetime - unbeknownst to him, you felt exactly the same way.

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow night?” he asked, stuttering the words.

“Yeah,” you replied, so excited you felt like shrieking so the whole market could hear. “I have the day off tomorrow. Think your uncle would let you swing that?”

“Yeah,” Lee assured you. “I think he would.”

You finished your meal together, sharing your favorite things about the neighborhood you lived in and simply enjoying each other’s company, as comfortable as if you were old friends. Instead of parting with you, Lee walked you back to the bar at the end of your break, stating that it was no trouble going back to the market to get the groceries he skipped to spend time with you.

When he left, you hugged him, and for the first time in a long time, you felt as if you'd truly made a friend.

On your date the next day, Lee took you to the local art museum - he remembered you expressing an interest in art history, and per his uncle’s suggestion, decided it would be the perfect place to take you. He loved seeing the awe on your face when met with a piece that captivated you, was drawn in by the impassioned way you spoke about cultures and myths from ages so long passed they felt as if they came from different worlds entirely. You spent the whole day together, ending the evening crashed on your couch with a pizza and a marathon of true crime documentaries.

From that day onward, you and Lee were connected at the hip. You spent every available moment you had either in the alley behind your building with him or having a cup of tea at the Jasmine Dragon, often staying long after closing with him and his uncle, Mushi, and feeling as if you'd finally found a family in your adopted city.

You learned that Lee was a skilled martial artist, asking him to teach you a little of what he knew and amazed at just how good he really was. He moved more like a dancer than a fighter, his comfort and ability with his body and a weapon captivating you. You learned that he also had an affinity for theater and had grown up completely cut off from modern music and pop culture, spending many of your nights together at local play houses and bars, introducing him to your favorite bands and shows. He learned that you were fascinated by literature and history - anything that had significant, profound meaning and beauty - and often found himself wandering museums and historic neighborhoods with you, loving nothing more than to listen to you talk about what inspired you. You also made him laugh, your sense of humor at times dark, but set into a personality that saw the world with childlike wonder, able to find immense beauty and value in things that seemed frivolous to the naked eye. You were kind, unwavering - everything his family and past lover weren't.

Zuko loved being around you because of how free you made him feel. The unbridled way you expressed your emotions encouraged him to face his own, following your lead in being unafraid of just how intensely the heart within his chest was prone to beat. You loved being with him because he made you feel safe, never judging you for anything and understanding the trauma of your past in a way nobody else had done before. You opened up to him about how the ones you loved did you the most harm, never giving themselves as fully to you as you did them, treating you as a means to take out their own pain and insecurities and convincing you that that was just the way love worked. Eventually, he confided in you the truth about his identity, confessing the horrors he fled in coming to Ba Sing Se. You never once blamed him for anything he'd done, knowing exactly what it felt like to have to read between the lines and give everything for those who gave you little in return. You fit together easily, never having to guess what the other was thinking; for once you both felt content, secure in the safety of your heart within the other’s hands.

One of your favorite places to go with Zuko was a cat cafe a few blocks over from where you worked, spending many a slow weekday off shift with fresh lattes, croissants, and cuddles from friendly, adoptable kitties. At first, Zuko was unsure, having never spent much time with cats, but after one visit he was enamored, gushing to you every single time you went how badly he wanted a cat and spouting multiple reasons why you should adopt one together. On a free Wednesday afternoon he showed up at your apartment unannounced (as he had made a habit of doing) and suggested you go together, an invitation you were more than happy to accept.

As you left the cafe, a couple walking on the other side of the street caught your eye - the man who stood nearest to you was horrifyingly familiar. You recognized him immediately, the shock of his sudden appearance shattering and hollowing out your insides.

It was your ex boyfriend, the man who broke your heart so far beyond repair, walking hand in hand with someone else.

“Zuko,” you mumbled, not even noticing that you used his real name in public, “I want to go home.”

Zuko furrowed his brow, taking you by the shoulders and gently turning you to face him, concerned with the sudden shift in your tone.

“What's wrong?” he asked softly.

All you could do was shake your head. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you to the nearby subway station and back to your apartment.

Once safe inside the confines of your home, you changed into a baggy sweater and the softest sweatpants you owned, curling up under the kotatsu in your living room with Zuko, arms wrapped tight around his waist as you drifted in the tide of blood that poured from your newly reopened wounds. He didn't have to ask what you'd seen - he could tell from the vacant, glassy look in your eyes exactly which ghost haunted you.

“I can't believe he'd be with someone else,” you whimpered. “After everything he did to me… always giving me mixed signals and never telling me exactly how he felt… how could he be able to do it with another person? What was so wrong about me that he hid all of it from me, when all I needed was to hear it?”

You sniffed as Zuko pressed a thumb to your cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen. He hugged you tightly, pressing you close as if to remind you that he was there - he was your present, and there was nothing your past could do to harm you.

“There's nothing wrong with you,” he promised. “He's taken enough from you. Don't give him any more.”

For a long while, you sat together in silence, cradled in Zuko’s arms while he rocked you slowly back and forth, the tenderness of his touch sucking the poison from your veins. After what felt like ages, he finally spoke, giving you the piece of his past he'd been too heartbroken to offer until that moment.

“My girlfriend, Mai,” he told you, “she was like him. Everything she felt, she forced herself not to. We were together for a long time, but… I never really felt like she actually cared for me. If she did, she never let me see it. I gave her everything for nothing.”

“Why did you stay with her?” you wondered, voice meek and quivering with tears.

Zuko sighed, letting his chin fall so he could bury his face in your hair.

“Because she was the first person who ever accepted what I offered her,” he explained. “I was so used to everything I did being unwanted, it was just nice to not be pushed away for once. But she didn't love me like I needed it. I wish I was strong enough to see that and walk away, like you did.”

You propped yourself upright, leveling yourself so you could look him in the eye. You rested your hands at either side of his neck, your thumbs grazing delicately over his hot skin as you hooked your legs around his hips, your body nestled in the gap between his crossed legs.

“Zuko,” you breathed, “I love you. Those aren't even the right words to tell you how I feel about you, but it's the closest I have. You're so passionate and kind, and you love so fiercely… I truly don't know how to tell you how beautiful I think you are, or how much you mean to me. You deserve so much more than how the people you loved have treated you.”

Zuko curled his arms around your back, pressing his chest to yours and burying his face in the crook of your neck, embracing you as closely as he'd ever done. Tears soaked the collar of your sweater, and in return you cried into the exposed skin revealed by his t-shirt as you tugged on the fabric, gripping him as if letting go meant losing him forever.

“I love you, too,” Zuko murmured. “You make me feel strong enough to show it.”

When Zuko left Ba Sing Se, it crushed you. You were furious, at first unable to understand why he'd throw everything away to return to the place and the people that destroyed so much of him. Most of all, you missed him like mad - you missed how easy it was being with him, how you understood each other as if you were another part of yourselves. You missed his laughter and his warmth, the side of your mattress he often slept in feeling colder than ever without him there.

You were relieved when Mushi - who you now knew to be the infamously disgraced General Iroh - returned, showing up at your door out of the blue with tea and baked goods from the shop. You hugged him tightly, crying like a child as he settled you at your table and told you about his escape from prison, as well as his conversations with Zuko the few times he'd visited him. Your heart ached, but it finally felt clear just how lost and confused he was; you were still angry, but you knew you could forgive him.

“His heart is lost,” Iroh explained, “but because of you, he knows how to listen to it.”

For the next month and a half, you took Zuko’s place at the Jasmine Dragon, spending your days off helping Iroh wherever he needed you. He became as much a part of you as his nephew did, and started to consider you as much a daughter as he did Zuko a son. Iroh’s presence soothed the burns left on your soul not only by those you loved, but by your own ferocity towards them.

Everything changed again the morning you woke to and find that Zuko had left the Fire Nation a third time, his face plastered across the news as a missing person with a bounty on his head. You knew based on everything Iroh told you what he planned to do, and immediately set to packing your bags. Travel into and out of the Fire Nation was difficult, but a few of your coworkers had connections to smugglers in the seedier parts of the district - they’d be able to get you onto a ship or a plane that could get you where you needed to go.

Before you left, you went to the Jasmine Dragon and told Iroh of your plans, asking him to keep watch over your apartment so that you could return if need be. You expected him to try and stop you - instead he pulled you into a strong, affectionate hug, telling you to be careful and call him whenever you were able.

“Go to him,” he hummed into your ear. “He needs you.”

Later that night, you met a group of other refugees at the docks, piling into the hull of a cargo ship bound for the Fire Nation’s imperial city. For the entirety of the journey, you wore one of Zuko’s necklace’s around your neck - one of the few things he’d kept from his life before his banishment and subsequent disappearance - keeping it tucked under your shirt and pressed to your chest for good luck.

[ Part 2 ]

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[sserpente]

A/N: Request from @ilikebritsandbands. Here’s your long awaited Jack Sparrow fluff! ♥ I don’t know if this Imagine is historically correct but… let’s ignore that, savvy?

Words: 1616 Warnings: fluff, mentions of forced marriage

Fate was cruel—not as cruel as your father but cruel nonetheless. You refused to give up; you believed in your freedom. The more it was taken away from you, the more you fought for it.

They had attacked at night, taking gold, jewellery, expensive garments and other treasures. Pirates you had read so many stories about as a child. And all of your struggling, biting and scratching had been in vain when they took you, throwing you over their shoulder and carrying you back to a ship with black sails like a piece of furniture.

Your home was a prison. A safe and clean place your father kept you in until you could marry you off to an old and rich man for social reputation. The pirates expected a juicy ransom for your freedom—but by now, you had long left the haven and were sailing in midst of the seven seas, far away from help and civilisation.

At least they hadn’t thrown you into one of the dirty cells or tied you to the mast for the crew to gape at you like hungry animals. In fact… in fact the pirates who had taken you were by far the most peculiar bunch you had ever met—especially their Captain.

None of them were exceptionally cruel or ruthless. They made sure you had water and food, had even given you a coat so you would not freeze. The first mate—Gibbs, you believed he was called—had even apologised for all the inconvenience. You had almost laughed out loud.

You had been counting the days since your abduction, of course. Halloween was coming up, tonight. Back when your mother was still alive, you had always carved pumpkins and lit them up with candles, then cooked pumpkin cream soup and baked pumpkin pies together. You missed the times you were young, free and careless.

Now, you weren’t even on firm ground anymore. Around you, masses of salt water expanding all the way to the horizon and beyond it.

“Ha! Found me another bottle of rum, luv!” Jack grinned when he entered the Captain’s cabin, strutting into the small room proudly.

Your smile was sad. Jack Sparrow was a strange fellow. A pirate with a criminal history, yes, but also a man with a good heart. Besides, he was really handsome. You’d rather get betrothed to him than this greasy old man your father had chosen for you.

Jack had spent hours studying old maps last night. He was onto something—and whenever he was onto something, he would drink half of the ship’s rum supplies. He uncorked it with a silent pop, then handed it to you before sitting back down at his wooden desk.

“Ladies first?”

You shook your head with pursed lips. The taste of rum was disgusting. You did enjoy the occasional glass of wine when dining with your father but rum was too strong, too intense. Jack shrugged and took a big gulp himself. You did not realise you were still watching him until his dark eyes locked with yours.

“Why the long face, luv?”

You shook your head once more. “I’m homesick.” You admitted. What you did not expect was the hint of compassion and pity reflecting in his expression.

“We’ll be back in a week’s time. Yer journey will end if yer father agrees to our terms and conditions.” He remarked with a grin.

You snorted. “I don’t even know if I want to go back there. My father means to marry me off to some rich snot thrice my age.” But you knew Jack wouldn’t just let you go without getting anything out of it himself—and if one of your father’s servants was awaiting the Black Pearl to hand over the gold and pick you up, being trapped in your room until your wedding would be no better than being trapped on a ship.

“Sorry, luv. Yer welcome to stay with me, too. Wouldn’t mind the company. Gibbs always says having a woman on board is bad luck I think it’s worse without them.” He suggested with a smirk, taking another sip of his rum.

You refused to admit you were actually considering this. Perhaps one day, you would be able to go your own way either way.

“Where are we docking tonight? You said we would be filling up supplies.” You said instead.

“Tortuga.”

“Tortuga? The… the pirate haven?”

“The very same.”

Your face distorted. You had heard stories about Tortuga. Bad stories. That’s what came with travelling with pirates, even if it was against your will.

“C’mon, luv. What can I do to put a smile on yer face?” You snorted.

“You could take me to a farmer to buy a pumpkin.”

Jack blinked, entirely taken aback. “A pumpkin, luv?”

“Yes. A pumpkin, to carve for Halloween. It’s coming up.”

The pirate looked at you like you had just stolen his beloved ship, eliciting a giggle from you. “Yer want to do what?”

“It’s called a Jack O’Lantern. To scare away evil winter spirits.”

Jack pouted into his rum bottle. “Could use some of that… So yer want me to buy you a pumpkin, luv?”

“Or steal one. Whatever it is you pirates do in situations like that.” The Captain grinned cheekily. “In return, I could make some pies with the guts?” Jack still looked a little disturbed. Usually, women would ask for jewellery or dresses… not pumpkins. But eventually, he agreed.

-

Tortuga wasn’t by far as scary as you had imagined it would be. There were drunks and prostitutes, yes, and people throwing insults and bottles at each other… and it smelled like urine, alcohol and smoke but apart from that… you had expected much worse.

Instinctively, when you passed a group of men who walked past bellowing obscene things at you, you grabbed Jack’s hand and held it tightly, causing him to wrap his arm around you and keep you close.

Ironic, really. Instead of trying to get away from your captor, you were getting even closer to him.

“Yer alright there, luv? I’m quite known here. Yer have nothing to worry about, savvy?”

Well. Last time he had said this somebody had slapped him in the face mere moments after.

“There’s a grocery farmer right around the corner. Yer pick yer pumpkin quickly, toss him a coin and then we leave.” He warned you contritely.

“I pick the pumpkin?”

“It’s not me pumpkin, luv. As long as I get me pie.” Jack had the audacity to wink—and for some peculiar reason, your heart sped up unlike it ever had when meeting with your future husband. “And I owe him money…” He added quietly.

You giggled once more—not just because you were not surprised but also because as soon as you had purchased your pumpkin—the biggest and most beautiful one you could find—Jack Sparrow looked downright adorable carrying it back to the ship all by himself where the crew was already waiting for him to leave the haven again.

On deck, you got to work right away, earning you a few confused glances as you began carving a spooky face into the pumpkin with a dagger Marty had lent you and collected the sticky guts in a bucket. Something… something felt oddly strange as you set foot on the wooden ship again, the gentle waves beneath your soles somewhat familiar and reassuring.

Jack raised an eyebrow at you when you finished and grabbed some candles to place them inside the hollow pumpkin, lighting it up and promising to the crew how adorable your little creation would look at nightfall. But he only shrugged, suppressing an amused smirk. It was rather easy, making you happy. In some aspects, you reminded him of Elizabeth. A polite gentlewoman but not up the creek without a paddle upon being ripped from wealthy life… if he didn’t plan on collecting his ransom for you and drop you off back at your father’s… he’d even consider keeping you by his side; if you wanted to.

Singing an old Halloween song to yourself, you made your way to the ship’s kitchen to make those pumpkin pies you had promised Jack. It was only when you shoved it in the giant oven Gibbs had to help you heat up, you realised just what was so different. You didn’t feel like a prisoner anymore.

Jack was treating you gently, like a crew member with privileges. No one was cruel, no one was heartless… and now he had even bought a pumpkin for you.

“Me pumpkin pies ready yet, luv?” He appeared behind you, slurring a little. Only God knew how many bottles of rum they had taken with them from Tortuga. Greedily, Jack reached for one of the treats—and promptly cursed loudly as he tossed it in the air repeatedly until it had cooled down a little.

“Ow! Hot!”

“Jack…” You began when he took a bite, chuckling when he started moaning. “Jack?”

“Buying you that pumpkin was a good investment, luv.”

“I’m glad you think so… Jack?”

“Hmm?” He took another bite, already reaching for the next pie in the process.

“What happens when my father pays you the ransom?”

The pirate immediately stopped chewing.

“Yer not gonna go back to yer husband, hmm?” You shook your head in response.

“I… it’s not so bad here. Sailing with you…” And you slowly felt like living on the ship, sailing the seven seas was not deprivation of freedom after all… but much rather the incarnation of freedom itself.

Jack grinned. “In that case… welcome on board, me luv.” You smiled when he bit into the next pumpkin pie.

-

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

The yard boy | JJ Maybank (part 3)

The sky was getting darker by every minute that passed. A storm was about to hit the island soon and, according to the local meteo, it was going to be a big one. But, the announcement of a storm didn't seem to bother JJ who was casually mowing Montgomery's lawn, unbothered by the darkening sky above him.

Inside the house, Flynn went downstairs to grab a snack from the kitchen and caught sight of a blond head in her yard. She frowned, surprised that he hadn't gone home yet. Weather changes fast on the island when there's a storm coming. One second the sky can be bright and clear and the next, it's dark and pouring.

Abandoning her search for a snack, she opened the back door, stepping on the cement tiles of the backyard.

''What are you still doing here? The storm's getting closer. It's gonna start pouring soon,'' she asked, shouting over the noise of the lawnmower, hoping JJ would hear her.

He looked up, but didn’t stop. ''I gotta finish before your father arrives,'' JJ responded in a monotonous tone.

They hadn't talked since the boat argument two weeks ago and JJ couldn't care less. He had no business with her. His job was to mow the lawn and take care of the Montgomerys' yard, not be friendly with their daughter. 

''If he were here, he'd tell you to go home, JJ. The storm-''

''Ten minutes and I'm done,'' he promised.

Flynn hesitated, her green eyes looking up at the angry colored sky. ‘’It's not safe to stay outside during a storm. You can get struck by lightning.''

JJ cocked an eyebrow. ''It hasn't started raining, has it?'' The brunette stayed quiet. ‘’Ten minutes and I’m out of here.''

.

A roar of thunder echoed through the large house and Flynn decided to go check on JJ, in case he was still outside. He said he would be done in ten minutes, but boys are bad at calculating and managing their time.

She slid the backdoor open, about to call out JJ’s name when she spotted him by the garden furniture, zipping up his backpack, getting ready to leave.

''No need to check on me. I just finished. I'm going home, now.''

Going home? Is he crazy? He most likely came here by foot which meant he’d have to walk back to the Cut.

Flynn shook her head. ''No. You can't go home in this storm. I just heard thunder.''

JJ scoffed. ''Look, it's nice of you to worry about me, but there's no need to. I'm a big boy, I’m not scared of a storm. See you next week,'' he said dryly. JJ slung his bag over his shoulder and just as he was about to leave, a bolt of lightning pierced the sky above the water, quickly followed by heavy rain.

The blond wasn't afraid of getting a little wet, it’s just rainwater, but Flynn wasn't going to let him jeopardize his life by walking home during a thunderstorm. She’d feel so guilty if something were to happen to him.

A loud peal of thunder echoed, making the brunette jump at the unexpected noise.

‘’Scared of thunder?’’ JJ teased, cocking an eyebrow.

Flynn rolled her eyes. ‘’I’m not. B-but we should get inside, though.’’

‘’We?’’ JJ repeated. He shook his head. ‘’No, no. I’m not coming in. My dad is waiting for me-’’

‘’If you think I’m gonna let you walk home during this weather, you may think again. You can go when the storm is over.''

.

Surprisingly, the Montgomerys weren't prepared for a thunderstorm at all. They didn't have any flashlights or any emergency items in their huge house. They must've assumed they won't need any of these items because they're Kooks, but thunderstorms and power cuts are common in the Outer Banks - regardless of how much money there's in your pocket.

Lucky for them, Flynn had a couple scented candles in her bedroom so they didn't have to be in the complete dark.

''Do they all stink like that?'' JJ asked, not a fanatic of the strong floral scent currently burning and filling the living room. ‘’If so, I’d rather sit in the dark.’’

''You don't like lavender? It’s relaxing.''

A smirk formed on JJ’s lips. ‘’I know better ways to relax.’’

Flynn gave him a look, her mind immediately going on the dirty side.

‘’I meant weed,’’ he clarified, seeing the look of disgust on her face. ‘’But, that can work too.’’ JJ reached out to grab his bag from the floor and pulled out a joint, raising it to his lips to light it when Flynn gasped, taking it from him. ''Hey!''

''Are you crazy? It'll smell through the whole house. My dad will furious when he returns.''

JJ rolled his eyes. What a party pooper. ''We can't ever have some fun with you, Kooks, uh?''

''We do fun stuff. We...we play games.''

''Games? Like Monopoly?'' He snickered. ''Sorry. I don’t do board games.’’

Flynn rolled her eyes, standing from the couch. ‘’I don't mean Monopoly, idiot. I mean a drinking game.''

At the mention of alcohol, the blond grinned. ''That I like!''

JJ watched as Flynn retrieved a liquor bottle from her father's cabinet, not really paying attention to what she chose, before returning to the couch with a set of two glasses. She handed one to JJ and sat down across him on the couch.

Turned out Flynn and him had different preferences of drinking games. While the brunette enjoyed a good old high school drama game in the Truth or Dare and Never Have I Ever genre, JJ would rather play beer pong. It demanded skills - and he liked to show off.

Although those types of drinking games weren’t JJ’s favorite - he found them childish and boring -, he still agreed to play. If it means drinking something else than cheap beer for once in his life, he’ll play any games. And, who said they can't spice things up a little?

‘’I’ll start. Never have I ever stolen from a store.’’

JJ took a sip, acting very casual about his confession. ‘’Not everyone can just whip out daddy’s black card whenever they want something.’’ Thunder roared outside, filling the silence as the Kook girl looked down, aware of her privilege. ‘’Never have I ever...lied to my parents.’’

Flynn rolled her eyes. ‘’You know, I’m not as innocent as you think. Level up with those questions.’’

‘’Okay, okay. Erm, never have I ever gone skinny dipping.’’

She didn’t drink, making JJ snicker. Of course she hadn't.

‘’Never have I ever sent a naughty pic.’’

JJ smiled smugly, taking a long sip. ‘’Never have I ever snuck out?’’

Flynn took a sip and JJ was impressed - but not too much. Maybe she was more rebellious than she let on.

''Never have I ever watched the garden boy from my bedroom window.'' Flynn took a sip, trying to contain her smile behind the glass, watching as JJ raised an eyebrow, processing her confession.

Did he hear that right?

Although he hadn’t noticed her staring from her bedroom window, the blond wasn't completely surprised. Flynn was always coincidently around whenever he was working on the yard, whether it was cutting grass, watering the garden or cleaning the boat. Sometimes, she was on the patio reading a book or simply tanning on the boat - like two weeks ago. They haven't had a lot of conversations, having stuck to complete silence since the boat argument, but words weren't always needed.

JJ would be a liar if he said he had never looked at her either, but he was also very conscious that if he'd get caught by Flynn's father, he'd be fired and that wasn't an option so he didn't test his chance with her.

‘’You know you’re supposed to ask things you haven’t done, right?’’

She shrugged, feeling confident, putting her half empty glass on the coffee table. ‘’We’re changing the rules for tonight.’’

JJ cocked an eyebrow. ‘’We are?’’

Flynn hummed. ''What are you gonna do about it, JJ?'' she asked in a soft, flirty tone.

''I can think of a few things...''

Testing the waters, Flynn scooted closer to JJ's side of the couch, her gray eyes meeting JJ's blue ones before slowly closing the space between them. It started slow, but quickly picked up in pace, both of them applying more pressure and will into the kiss.

The alcohol was long forgotten, having moved to much better activities. They didn't really have a plan, only time to waste, and this seemed like a great way to do so.

JJ smiled smugly into the kiss, feeling a hand grasp his thigh to get some leverage and deepen the kiss. Flynn's hand came up, cupping his jaw and sliding her other arm behind his neck, fingers grazing the roots of his blond hair.

A roar of thunder echoed through the house as she climbed onto his lap, allowing JJ's hand to slip under the hem of her skirt, exposing her bare thigh, his calloused fingers feeling rough on her soft skin. This felt different than making out with other Kooks, but Flynn didn't hate it. She wanted...more.

The night had taken an unexpected turn, but JJ wasn't complaining. Who would? He was stuck inside a huge house with one of the hottest chick of the island and her lips were on his, making out as the thunderstorm roared outside. This was fucking paradise.

JJ's free hand came behind her back, pressing their bodies closer before disconnecting his lips from Flynn's to kiss along her jaw, neck and down to her collarbone. She tilted her head back, making more room for JJ's lips, feeling them grazing the edge of her blouse. She encouraged JJ to pull down the sleeve, one of her breasts popping out of the top - which didn't go unnoticed by the blond, losing no time attaching his lips to it, making Flynn moan at the sensation.

Kook boys weren't like that. They didn't care enough to give attention to their partner and their desires. All they wanted was to fuck and only them were allowed to feel pleasure. At least, that’s what Rafe would do.

Pulling back, Flynn detached herself from JJ and reached behind to unzip her blouse and peel it off, watching the blond bite his lip at the sight. JJ did the same with his shirt, almost kicking the candle off the table when he threw it away.

''Careful. Don't set the house on fire,'' Flynn warned, having difficulty finding a way to tell her father how his house caught on fire.

JJ laughed, shaking his head before crawling over to Flynn's end of the couch and placing himself between her parted legs, using his arms as leverage to kiss her. Their bare chests were flushed together, her manicured fingernails digging into his back, making hiss at the slight pain.

Kissing soon escalated into more, Flynn's skirt and underwear joining the rest of her clothes as JJ descended his lips down the middle of her breasts to her stomach, making her gasp and clutch a handful of his blond hair as she felt his lips and skilled tongue on her. Her moans were swallowed by the thunder, its noise getting louder and louder, meaning they were closer to the lightning.

JJ paused, looking up through his lashes. ‘’Judging by the angry weather outside, it looks like we're gonna be stuck here for a moment.''

''Good.''

[angelsunflowers-fanfics]

Male!Esmeralda x Female!Baker!reader (Baker & Romani part 2)

Request: Could you write a sequel to the Emalan/Belle's sister! Reader one-shot, where she comes across him again while getting set to visit her sister and she invites him to come along with her, and he agrees?

Fandom: The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Pov: Reader’s

Genre: Fluff

Linktree

~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Okay, an unknown day trip. That required quite a bit of food and I had a trusty friend to help with the bakery while I was gone. I leave in an hour. I’d need to find my horse and then I’ll be ready to leave. I should say goodbye to Emalan though. It was only right. I’d only be gone a few days, but… He was always with me, we met up at least once a day.

I slung my bag over my shoulder as the bell in the Bakery rang, sending the sound throughout my small establishment. I let out a small sigh and turned to the potential customer, half of my sentence slipping out before I turned to them.

“I’m actually not open right now, Sorry. Can’t--Oh… Emalan.” 

The Romani boy that had found my heart stepped into the bakery, approaching me and hopping on my counter. My customers were lucky I cleaned that multiple times a day.

“You’re not opening today?” He asked.

I grabbed the containers stacked on the counter next to his legs and gently placed them in my bag, they were full of food for my trip. The only reason I came into the bakery was that it was below where I lived, and I wanted to take a few goodies with me.

“I’m going to see my sister again, remember? I told you a few weeks ago.” 

Emalan leaned his elbows onto his knees and stared at me. I bit my bottom lip lightly, I hated how he stared at me like that, with those eyes. It was hard to resist anything from him. I jumped in my spot when he grabbed one of my hands, gaining my attention and breaking my train of thought.

“How long will you be gone?” He asked.

I honestly hadn’t thought about that yet. I didn’t even know how long my trip would take even with a horse. Did he wanna come with me?

“Um, a week? Maybe more? I haven’t really decided yet. Why?” 

Emalan pulled me closer to him, pressing his lips to mine for a few moments; his hands sliding to my hair to tousle it, making it messier and messier by the second. As he pulled away, my face was flared up, a bright shade of red or pink, I could feel it.

“That’s a while. What am I supposed to do when you’re gone? I won’t be able to flirt with my favorite baker,” He teased. 

Chills rushed down my spine as he caressed one side of my face, I always felt all tingly whenever he just brushed past me lightly. I was so weak for him…

“I, um… I can’t think straight when you make me all flustered… Do you, maybe… wanna come with me? I know that it’s really early in our--um-- relationship but… “ 

A small squeak emitted from my lips as he tugged me even closer to him, wrapping his arms around me. I could feel him laughing lightly into my neck. Was he happy? I jolted out of shock once again as I felt him press his lips to the side of my neck before he hopped off of the counter and released me from his tight hold.

“I have been rather curious to see the town you grew up in,” Emalan said. 

I smiled lightly before adjusting the bag over my shoulder and walking out of the bakery, Emalan just behind my heels of course. I hope he wasn’t scared of horses. This city was getting more and more dangerous lately. I didn’t really know what was going on but hearing bits and pieces of my customer’s conversations, something bad was going to happen. I could feel it in my bones. That was another reason I wanted to get out of the city for a change.

We stopped by the stalls where I had to keep my horse, I didn’t have the privilege of riding her every day, sadly. But she seemed happy here.

I quickly handed my bag to Emalan who held it and stared at me curiously as I led my horse out of her stall and out into the open street, gaining a few stares.

“Come on, we won’t get there alone.” 

I quickly hopped onto my horse, October, before gesturing for my significant other to do the same. Emalan hesitantly climbed behind me, slowly wrapping his arms around my waist as to not fall off the horse.

“That’s why you’re dressed differently.” October slowly trotted down the road, careful of people in a way thanks to me in charge of the reins. I’ve had her for the longest time. Belle only recently brought her here for me, saying that it’d be much quicker for me to get home. She was right. I think it’d only take an hour or so. “So what’s it like? Your town, I mean.” I breathed out a long sigh, remembering all the past memories I had of the small town. I grew up there, but what I mainly remembered was Gaston.

“Well, It’s much smaller than what you’re used to. You see the same people every day, have the same job, but it’s peaceful at least. Except for this one guy, Gaston.” 

Emalan rested his head on my shoulder, listening intently to me rant about the small town I was from. I told him about Gaston and how he tried to wed me, but when that didn’t work after a whole year of trying, he went to Belle. 

I could hear how angry he was getting. I should try to calm him down. “He’s gone now, though. Don’t worry.” 

I glanced to the road in front of me and saw a familiar patch of woods, we were almost there. I was actually getting nervous now, I was bringing Emalan to meet my family. This felt like a big step. Was it too soon?

“I hate people who feel so entitled to treat other people like that. Is that why you moved to the city? To get away?” Emalan asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, feeling more nervous now. It was a big reason I wanted to move away, but I didn’t actually get to until Adam helped me.

“I didn’t move until My brother-in-law helped pay for it. He comes from a family of money while I don’t,” I explained. 

His grip on me tightened as October started galloping towards the small town, I guess he wasn’t used to riding on horses. It was kinda nice feeling a little confident around him for a change.

I let out a shaky breath as we entered the town, the familiar smell and the sight of everyone I grew up around. It was a change of pace from the unusual sights I had seen in the past couple of years. I slowly slipped off of my horse before taking a hold of her reins once again. Emalan noticed me and jumped off as well. The townspeople didn’t like it when horses just dashed through the towns, mess the order up.

We walked for a bit in silence, Emalan staring at everything the small town had to offer while I tried to find the courage to introduce him to my family. They were very accepting, but this was a big thing and Belle had seen other Romani people when she had come to visit me. Maybe I was just overreacting?

“My sister didn’t mention if she wanted to meet at our family’s cottage or her Husband’s home,” I mumbled. 

Emalan popped up next to me, a bright smile on his face. It was good that he was enjoying this trip. I slowly let go of the reins as we approached. October, my beloved horse, knew not to run off, so I should be fine with a ride back home.

I slowly approached the door and reached a hand up to knock when it slammed open revealing my sister and her husband. Why were they here and not--

“You’re here! This is great, I… Oh, you brought someone. Who’s this?” 

Belle gave me a knowing look. She knew exactly who it was. I had been sending her letters talking about Emalan since we met. But of course, she wanted me to say it.

“Um, Belle, Adam… this is Emalan, he’s my p-partner,” I introduced. 

The enthusiastic Romani greeted the two while I glanced around at everything. I had been gone for years and nothing had changed, the town still looked the same, so do Belle and Adam. At least Gaston wasn’t here to bother anybody anymore. That was too much to handle on a daily basis.

“This is lovely! So when’s the wedding?” 

My eyes widened at my sister’s question. I couldn’t believe that she just asked that. I mean, I could. But why would she? My face felt hot again. Great. I bit on my bottom lip as I thought of something tangible to say.

“Not sure. We’re thinking of spring,”  

I continue not to say anything as Emalan answers her question. I just wanted to hide right now. Please let the embarrassment be over soon.  

Emalan pressed a quick kiss to the side of my head as he continued to talk to Belle about the wedding. Was that even happening? I was sure he was just trying to amuse her, but… being married to him? That sounded like a dream.

[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x FemOC} Chapter 6

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: Animal death, mentions of domestic assault and abortion.

AN: This is a long one, hope you enjoy :)

. . . . .  A few days had passed in the camp, many were busy either around camp or out on jobs to bring in money. Mary-Beth and Tilly explained to me what the jobs would entail, most of the time putting themselves in serious danger. Having enough to get by wasn't enough, especially for Dutch, occasionally giving smooth worded speeches to everyone like he was the Mayor of a grand town. He wanted more money, a lot of it for everyone to live a life of luxury. Arthur had recently returned from Strawberry to rescue a member of the gang i had not yet met, but had been warned about. Apparently the rescue mission didn't go as smoothly as planned. Arthur aimed to get him out of jail and out of Strawberry with minimum confrontation. The other guy had different plans. As I sat on my bedrole in my small tent stitching one of his shirts, the very man I'd been warned about approached.“I’m almost done with your shirt Micah.” i smiled politely at him, not wanting to get on his bad side from the get go but hoping to stay cautious while around him.He leaned against the tree beside my tent, lighting a cigarette as he did so.“So where did they pick you up from?” He looked towards me and it was then I realised everything he might say would be laced with venom. “Saint Denis. More of a rescue than a pick up.” I returned my attention to the task in hand. He blew out a cloud of smoke in my direction, the smell of cheap tobacco filling my nose. It was his way to invade my space without being too forward. I wouldn't let it bother me, what with the many social gatherings that involved being in rooms filled with smoke and smoking myself on those occasions. He let out a breath, a sigh, before pushing himself off the tree and walking away, but not before muttering words he still made sure I could hear. “Another deadweight to feed.”  All I could do was chuckle to myself, cutting the thread in my hand with a knife. Deciding that he didn't deserve my effort to achieve perfection. By late evening I joined the others around the campfire, sitting next to Charles and Karen, the former handed me a freshly opened beer bottle. I was so used to expensive French wine, chilled in an ice bucket. I've gotten used to so much these last few weeks, living in the wild. The thought before would scare me half to death but I soon found it was different with a sense of family around you. Growing up i was taught the life of a gang of outlaws was a brutal one, the men being fueled and finding joy in murder, rape and theift, nothing more than monsters that have no care for anything other than themselves. I was never told that sometimes they could be people out of luck, born and raised without security and certainty, needing to do what they could to get by with the hope that they could one day, live without worrying when their next meal could be. These people around me all have terrible backstories and that's what brought them together, with the hopes of a better future as long as they fight for it together, even if that meant doing bad things.

I was the opposite, my life was paved out for me from the day I was born. To learn to be a loving and doting wife and mother. We never had to worry about our next meal, always knowing it would be fresh and grand. I was also lucky that my father wanted to teach me some of what he would teach my two older brothers, mainly hunting and how to care for our horses. I was so lucky, I was privileged. Javier brought out his guitar and started singing in his native tongue, some of us swaying to the tune. I heard of Charles and Arthur going out to hunt tomorrow, this was my chase to ask to join with them.I turned my attention to Charles, tapping him lightly on the arm for his attention to turn to me. “Everything okay Bella?” “I heard you and Arthur are going on a hunt tomorrow.” “We are. At first light. You wanting anything in particular?” “Is it possible that I join you both? I know how to use a bow, father taught me and it’s...it’s been a while...i’d love to hunt again.” I looked at him with pleading eyes as he took a swig from his bottle before turning to me with a soft smile. “Of course, always happy to have someone else along that knows what they are doing.” I couldn't play down my happiness, grinning from ear to ear and professing my thanks to Charles. I sipped the rest of my warm beer before saying my goodnights to the ones remaining around the fire and to Charles that I'll see him at first light. I tried my best to prevent a skip in my step as I made my way to my bedroll, excited for sleep and the day ahead. ….. The sun was barely making an appearance when I woke, stretching out my limbs before readying myself for the day, thankful to Sadie for offering me a pair of her pants she didn't want. Not only was I able to get out and do something I enjoyed, being amongst nature, but I was able to do something to help the camp other than repairing clothes and washing dishes.   Making my way over to the coffee pot I saw Arthur was already there, sitting on a log near the now burnt out fire, coffee in hand.  “Morning” He jumped slightly and turned to me, watching as I poured myself a hot cup.  “You're up earlier than usual.” He turned his attention back to his cup as I sat beside him. “I’m coming hunting with you...and what do you mean earlier than usual? You been watching me Mr Morgan?” I took a sip, Arthur spluttered his, seemingly trying not to choke on the burning liquid. “What?...no...just...i'm usually first awake is all.” I smiled in my cup, hopefully hiding my slight giggle. A man of his size and how intimidating he can seem, he sure can get flustered easily, his cheeks turning a muted shade of pink. It was fun. We finished our coffee and made our way over to Charles and the horses, getting them saddled up. “You feel well enough to ride yourself Bella?” Charles asked, tightening the saddles girth so it fit snugly but comfortably around the horse.  “I'm sure I'll be fine…” I looked over to Arthur, grinning “...I won't be falling off anytime soon.” “Take Johns horse, he won't be needing her today.” Arthur pointed over to the horse mentioned and I made my way over to sadde her. .….. The ride out into the heartlands towards Cumberland Forest was pleasant, the morning sun warming the earth and birds filling the air with their song. It was peaceful,the most peaceful I've felt in a long while. Still nothing of the attempted robbery or information about my disappearance had been read or heard of. Maybe Arthur was right, maybe Frank didn't care that i was gone, maybe he thought i was dead. I hope he did. We made it to the spot at Cumberland Forest and hitched the horses within the outskirts, hidden from view. Arthur let me use his bow, saying he was better with a rifle anyway. The three of us walked further into the forest, making sure to keep an eye and ear out for bears that roam the area. “Why don't we split up?” Charles suggested in a hushed toned as to not to disturb the surrounding wildlife. “Sure. Bella can come with me, might not need to use the rifle if she don't miss.” Arthur smirked. My expression one of mock disgust and punching him lightly in the arm. Granted I might be a bit rusty, it had been a couple of years since I hunted or even held a bow, but I'm sure once I get my mind focused it will be like second nature. Another thing I hope for.  Charles moved further into the forest, me and Arthur moving closer to the Dakota river. The forest was tranquil and busy at the same time, the smell of pine and aspen filling my nose, the intense gaze of the sun being softened by the green blanket above, lighting everything in an orange hue. Any light that broke through the leaves lighting up in patches on the ground, able to see the suns daily path across the dirt from the sections of thick grass and various plants. Songbirds and sparrows weaving through the labyrinth of branches, hunting for bugs and seeds as they sang their love songs. For a moment it felt like we were the only people in existence as we walked in a comfortable silence. As we neared the river Arthur lifted his hand for attention then pointed ahead. Two whitetail deers drinking from the river. We crouched down, keeping out steps slow and light as we neared them. Once we stopped Aarthur looked to me, giving a nod for me to take my aim. I nocked the arrow, drawing it till the string resisted, keeping my chin low and feet steady, Arthur giving a soft whistle to get their attention. Two breaths and releasing on the exhale, the arrow flew to the mark, hitting the deer through its right eye, killing it instantly. I breathed in a huff of triumph as Arthur smiled at my glee. We made our way over, Arthur pulling on the animal readying to lift it. “Maybe i didn't need the rifle.” “Didn't trust me?” we smirked at each other, both pleased that we got a kill so soon. Arthur whistled for his horse as I gazed out at the river, hoping to see another distracted deer. He wrapped the animal in rope and secured it onto the back of his horse but we soon realised we were not paying proper attention to our surroundings as we should have. A guttural roar came from the thick forest behind us, too close for comfort. Before we had any time to react a mass of fur and teeth was bounding out of the treeline towards us, its black eyes trained on me. Fight or flight instincts kicked in, my legs pushing my back into a run, tripping over a river rock as I turned, planting straight into the river. I knew I couldn't get up quick enough, legs still pushing me backwards but failing to get traction, arms stretching out in front of my face like I could stop the beast with my own hands. Just as it was above me, staring down the cavern that was a throat, a crack of thunder rang out in my ears, echoing into the distance. The beast above me ceased and dropped on my legs, red splattered on my pants, shirt and no doubt my face.I looked at the stilled bear with wide eyes and then over to Arthur, rife in hand. My breathing steadying as I came down from the shock of what just happened and pushing the animal off me to stand. “Maybe you did need that rifle.” i giggled, looking towards Arthur, his eyes full of concern but a smile creeping on his face at my attempt to bring humor to the situation. I wasn't just covered in bear blood but soaked from landing in the river. I tried to shake off what I could and wring out the water from my shirt. Arthur walked over holding out a dry shirt for me to take. “I always carry fresh on my horse. Better than being soaked through completely.” I took the shirt and muttered a thanks, making my way out of the river and onto dry land, Arthur making a start on skinning the bear and whistling over Johns horse . The cold breeze hit my wet skin, making me shiver so I wasted no time in removing my drenched shirt, peaking over my shoulder to make sure he was distracted before also removing my camisole, now bare from the waist up. Pain shot up my side due to my hurried pace, letting out a quiet gasp, looking down at the still present bruise on my ribs, less angry, but persistent nonetheless. “There's trees right there y’ know.” My moment of pain must have caught his attention. Embarrassment flushed to my cheeks and I quickly pulled on his shirt and buttoned it up. It buried my small frame, stopping mid thigh, and it smelled like him, the faint hint of tobacco and gunpowder. “Scared.” “Why?” “Bears.” He huffed a laugh, lifting the bear hide and stowing it on johns horse. Both of us mounted up and started making our way to Charles' horse, silently deciding that was enough hunting for us today.Once there we built a campfire and I sat as close to it as comfortably possible, drying off my pants and sharing some fresh bear meat between us. We both were lost in thought, sitting in silence across from each other as we ate. I decided to break the silence with another request.

 “Teach me to shoot properly?” it came out as both a demand and a question.He just looked at me while he chewed on the meat, the flames dancing over his face.“Father taught me how to handle a pistol, but i want to be sure i can protect myself...against bears...and people.”  “You never went hunting after bein’ married?” I shook my head and sighed, looking down at the unfinished meat in my hands. “No. Frank wouldn't allow it. He would say the only things women are for are cooking, breeding and fucking.”   “The more I learn about him, the more I wish I'd shot the bastard.” The anger in his tone was evident and with no hint of doubt.  We sat in silence, the midday sun now high in the sky. He seemed to be lost in thought for a while before opening his mouth wanting to say something before changing his mind. I looked to him expectedly, wanting him to say what he wanted. His eyes locked with mine, knowing I was giving my permission to speak his thoughts.After a brief moment of silence, he finally broke it. “I...those...those scars ya have. They from him too?”  So he did see. I hummed in response before giving him a proper answer. “My broken ribs weren’t from falling off your horse either. A lesson for flirting with the bastard on the balcony.” “Jesus” “He was so kind when we first met before getting married, always sending me gifts, flowers, jewelry. Written love letters and saying that he was building a stable at our future home, a homecoming gift for his sweetheart…” Arthur didn't speak as I paused, instead standing to retrieve something from his saddlebag before making his way around the fire to sit beside me, handing me a bottle of Bourbon. I smiled as I took it, opening it and taking a few gracious gulps, feeling the burning sensation trickle down my throat. “...He gradually changed after only being married for a few weeks. Dictating what i could wear and what hobbies i could indulge in, preventing me from seeing or talking to my childhood friends. Then the beatings would start getting worse... the assaults...eventually i couldn't sleep out of fear of what was to come when sharing a bed with him.” I took in a shaky breath, willing my tears not to breach. “Couldn't ya have returned to ya parents?” I shook my head before taking another swig and handing the bottle back to him. “I wanted to but...i was married off to him because my parents were struggling with the farmlands after three bad winters. Franks promised financial support in exchange for my hand. He even ceased all contact with them after only a month. I wrote letters to them but I never got one back. I have no idea what happened. Frank knew I wanted to leave so he promised to force a baby into me. That way, I'd have no choice but to stay with him.” I didn't know why i was telling Arthur all this, maybe because i knew it would help to get it off my chest, maybe because i felt like i could trust him. I didn't want pity, I realised, just a listening ear, someone to lend me their comfort for a little while.I hesitated before continuing. Arthur's eyes on me like I was a lost puppy, reaching out my hand for the bottle again he passed it to me without a word. I took another sip for courage, or so I couldn't feel the pain of reliving my horror. “I ended up falling pregnant. When I found out early on, I was more terrified in that moment than I had been in my life. He was elated of course, finally getting what he wanted. I knew he would be a horrible father, knew he wouldn't think twice about lifting his hand to a child. So I decided I couldn't let that happen. Had a doctor visit while he was on an overnight business meeting, some of his practices a known secret amongst many women.” Tears silently flowed as I stared into the growing flames of the fire. A hand placed gently on my knee for comfort and in understanding. “Did...did he find out?” “Told him I lost it. He shot my horse as punishment for being a failure of a woman.” “Bella...I’m sorry” It was barely above a whisper, anything louder and i might shatter like century old glass.He drew circles on my knee with his thumb as I wiped away the fallen tears. I made a silent vow never to cry over that man again, not to let him take up space in my mind. Absentmindedly I leaned into Arthurs touch, his shoulder meeting my temple, breathing in my first steady breath, Arthur wrapping his arm around me.

[7-wonders]

Wilted Roses Smell Just as Sweet

So I don’t know if this will be a prologue for an actual story, or if it’s just backstory, but this is that Beauty and the Beast AU I was talking about last week. Let me know what you think!

The butterfly effect, commonly found in pop culture, is the idea that the smallest action can result in bigger changes later in time. The flapping of a butterfly’s wings leading to a tornado is a popular example, and many people believe that the butterfly theory and karma go hand in hand. Although scientists and mathematicians have attempted to quantify the results of the butterfly effect, that directly contradicts the chaos theory from which the butterfly effect stems.

For the entirety of his life, Duncan Shepherd has found no reason to believe in any sort of cosmic effect. When you live a privileged life, there’s really no reason to believe that what you do will result in a different outcome. He already has everything, and has for his whole life, so it does no good to imagine what it would be like to have nothing. In retrospect, he should have paid more attention in the Intro to Psych class that he was forced to take to fulfill a general education requirement in college. Hindsight, however, is 20/20.

One simple fact had caused Duncan to decide that he needed a break. One simple fact had prompted Duncan to steal away to one of the family’s many homes, a large country home in the woods of the Appalachian Mountains. One simple fact had frozen Duncan’s heart into a block of ice, although one could make the argument that he held no warmth long before he learned that he was adopted.

The words still stung to think about. Adopted. Not truly a Shepherd. Being adopted is, in and of itself, not a bad thing. The way that Duncan’s “family” treated the adoption, illegally obtaining a child and erasing any trace of his true parentage, made it seem as though it was something dirty. 

After learning the truth, Duncan’s world had completely tilted on its axis. Unsure of what to do next, the only thing he was sure of was that he couldn’t bear to be around Annette or Bill for a while. He needed to get out of the poisonous city that was Washington, D.C. and clear his head. Luckily, the Shepherds own a multitude of houses in a variety of locations for him to choose from. Deciding that the seclusion of a forest was what would be most conducive to his recovery, Duncan chose to hide out in one of the family’s larger homes. Nestled within the Pennsylvanian Appalachian Mountains, the sheer size and splendor made it more of a chateau than a house. It was the perfect location to get away for awhile.

And so, the heir to the burgeoning Shepherd dynasty holed himself away in the hopes that a good month of sleeping, drinking, barking orders at the staff, and solitude would do him some good. Annette didn’t have much of a choice but to let him go; if she lost her son, she lost any chance she had at securing power for years to come. 

Small actions resulting in bigger changes further down the line. The decision not to tell Duncan he was adopted led to the explosive revelation by the President in an attempt to wound the family. The confrontation between mother and son, uncle and nephew, brother and sister, was followed by Duncan’s need for space.

Three weeks had passed since Duncan shut himself away from the world. His odd vacation was coming to an end, and while he couldn’t say that he was eager to return to his family, he did miss the hustle of the political center of the nation. For now, though, he was enjoying every last moment of calm that he could.

It was a surprisingly stormy evening, the wind blowing the trees that surrounded the house in every direction as rain fell upon the property in sheets and lightning cracked through the sky. Duncan had remained in his study for the evening, the fire providing much-needed warmth to the chilly room as he read. If there was one positive stemming from the fallout, it was that he had read more books than he had in years. He had finished Wuthering Heights yesterday, and was already halfway through Frankenstein when a knock at the door disrupted his concentration. Duncan had every intention of letting the evening staff answer the call of whomever had arrived, if only they weren’t strangely absent.

Three separate times, the visitor knocks on the door, and three separate times, Duncan waits for the door to open. By the fourth time, he huffs in resignation and decides that he’ll have to answer the door himself. What’s the point of having staff if they’re not going to do their jobs?, Duncan thinks as he unlocks the door and opens it harshly.

“This is private property, and I will--” Duncan trails off as he tries to take in what he’s seeing. An old woman stands in front of him, a soaked cloak covering her hunched form. Stringy white hair peeks out from the hood, and she smiles at him with a grin that’s missing a few teeth.

“I’m so sorry to bother you this evening,” she says hoarsely, “but I’m lost, and the storm’s getting too bad to walk in. I was wondering if I could use your phone and remain here until I can be collected? It’s cold out, and it’s so easy for a woman of my age to catch pneumonia in these conditions.”

Duncan sneers, put off by the way this elderly woman believes she can just get whatever she wants. Sensing this, she reaches into her cloak and roots around in an attempt to find something.

“I don’t have any money for you, but I do have this.” She produces a red rose in full bloom, looking as if it was just cut from a bush and not at all like it’s been held in the grasp of a sodden woman for hours now.

“You expect me to let a stranger into my house to use my phone and remain here for what could be hours, and in exchange for what? A stupid rose?”

The woman looks taken aback. “I promise you, only the finest roses are cultivated in my garden. Your kindness would surely be rewarded down the line.”

“There’s a ranger station about a mile south of here. They’ll have a phone that you can use, and hopefully some towels. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

The grin that she has been wearing morphs into a scowl. “You would deny an old woman shelter solely due to your whims?”

Duncan rolls his eyes, fed up with this interaction. “I already told you that you’re on private property, and now you’re beginning to test my patience. You’ll find what you need with the forest rangers, but I can’t help you. Goodnight.”

He goes to close the door, mind already wandering to thoughts of where he left off in his book, when a blinding strike of lightning has him throwing his arm over his eyes as he staggers back from the door. The wind whips the heavy wood open like it’s little more than a fragile screen door, the cold chilling Duncan to his very bones. Blinking his eyes to clear the spots that have gathered from the sudden brightness, he’s more than surprised to see that the old woman is gone, replaced by the figure of a glowing, ethereal woman.

There have always been stories of the magic that resides within the wilderness of the Appalachian Mountains, but Duncan had always taken them with a hefty grain of salt. After all, there’s no way that magic is real. It’s a fairy tale, a bedtime story told to children to ward off nightmares. Staring at what used to be an elderly woman, however, there’s no other answer to what she could be than an enchantress. 

“Less eager to turn me away now, aren’t you?” Her red lips are twisted in a cruel smirk, the wind forcing Duncan to his knees in front of her.

“I’m sorry, I--I didn’t know…”

“What, you didn’t know that I was actually beautiful? If I would have shown up at your door in this form, you would have let me use your phone without any sort of hesitation.” It’s not a question: she’s seen into his very soul, and knows just as well as he how he would have reacted if it had been the beautiful young woman who knocked on his door.

“No, it’s just--”

“Silence,” she commands. “I have seen what lies in your heart. It’s cold and dark, with no love to be found. You carry such beauty on the outside, but it does not extend inwards. Your dutiful staff is treated as if they’re invisible, so what difference will it make if they are? If you want to act like a beast, Duncan Shepherd, then a beast you shall be.”

Pain rips through Duncan’s body, leaving him helpless to question how she knows his name or what she means.

“Until you can learn to love, and be loved in return, you shall outwardly display the beastliness that lies within your heart. And this rose, which you so quickly spurned, shall serve as a reminder of this curse. It will continue to bloom until your thirty fifth birthday. If you are unable to break the curse by then, you will die when the last petal falls off of the rose.”

Another bright crack of lightning has Duncan falling backwards. It’s as if there’s a tornado whipping through his home, and combined with the overwhelming pain he’s feeling, he can’t tell which way is up or down. The wind reaches a fever pitch along with his pain, and Duncan passes out before he can even attempt to fight back.

The light burns through his eyelids when Duncan finally regains consciousness. He’s sprawled on the floor in the entryway, but when he tries to remember how he ended up here, his memory is fuzzy. He must have had a bit too much to drink last night, and he’s certainly paying for it now. Staggering to his feet, the only thing on Duncan’s mind is getting some water to soothe his burning throat. After that order of business is taken care of, he’ll worry about getting one of the maids to close the blinds.

It’s when he runs a hand through his hair that Duncan begins to get the impression that something’s wrong. Is it possible for hair to grow so much in one night? His locks must fall to at least his chin now, when last night they were so neatly kept. Trailing down to his face, he feels more facial hair than the artful stubble he normally sported.

His heart begins to race when he once again inspects his hair, finding hard protrusions on top of his head that end in points. Racing to find a mirror, Duncan gasps when he looks at his shaking hands. Impossibly, they look sizes bigger, and his nails are fucking claws. The ornate mirror hung on the wall of the hallway reveals a truth that Duncan was certain had been a dream.

His hair and beard is wild and unkempt, almost reminding Duncan of fur. Jet black horns jut out of the top of his head, their points shining in the light of the hallway. When Duncan opens his mouth to let out an exclamation of fear and call for help, he instead screams at the sight of fangs in his mouth.

[dallas-owns-my-ass]

Hard Love

Dallas Winston Oneshot

Summary: Dallas and the reader get into a fight and he realizes he’s in love. dally flufffffff

Warnings: fighting, violence, cursing, alcohol, dallas winston, this gif 

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     It was one of the colder nights in Tulsa. The wind blew in a way that made me shiver right down to the bone, even with Dally’s leather jacket hanging on my shoulders. We were walking close enough for people to know we were together, his arm slung over my shoulder. It was moments like these that made me realize I loved him. The ones where only his presence was required to make me fall more in love with him. It was the little things. How he walked. How every once in a while he would pull me closer to him, enveloping me in warmth. How he would occasionally place a light kiss on my forehead, giving me tiny butterflies in my stomach. He made me feel like my life had a purpose. Just two young thugs, walking in the night. We were on our way to a local bar, not the ideal place for romance, but Dallas Winston wasn’t the ideal romantic. 

     The moment I stepped into the bar I felt the warmth hit my face. It felt good considering the cold air outside. We sat down at the bar, Dally ordering two beers. It was your typical Friday night; crowded, loud music, flashing lights. As we talked I noticed a group of Socs standing a couple seats away from us. They kept glancing over as they talked loudly, making dirty comments. Dally seemed to notice too for his jaw clenched up and he pulled me closer. Until finally, he had enough.

     “If you don’t learn to watch your mouths, I’m going to bash all your heads in.” he growled. 

     “Well well, if it isn’t Dallas Winston. It would be a shame to get you thrown back in the cooler, especially after you just got out” the lead soc mocked back. 

     “A few months wouldn’t hurt. Especially if it means I get to kick your privileged ass.” Dallas replied cockily, standing up to face him. 

     They were only a foot apart now. I could see the scene unfolding in my head. This would end in a fight. Dally wouldn’t be able to take on all seven of them, even with my help. And he had too much pride to back out. I quickly stood up, following his lead. I grabbed his arm. 

    “Dally, baby, let’s just go.”

     “Yeah c’mon baby, just go.” the soc mocked. 

     This dude couldn’t mind his own business for three seconds, I swear.

     “You couldn’t take all of us anyways.”

     Crack. Dally swung and hit him right in the nose. The soc’s hand flew up to his face which held an expression of shock. It took only three seconds. Then they all jumped on him at once. One thing Dallas and I had in common was that we could keep up in a fight, but seven on two, not even Darry would’ve been able to win. I quickly hopped in on the action, throwing punches, trying to pull Dally out of the mess. It wasn’t long till we got kicked out of the bar. And by we, I mean me and Dally. Even on our side of town the Socs were still favored. 

     You could see the anger radiating off him as we walked to Buck’s. His hands shoved in his jean pockets. It was hard for me to keep up with his large, quick, strides, with me only being 5′2″. It was also because I was in a little pain from the fight. I was probably going to be left with several bruises. I felt bad because Dally’s knuckles were all torn up. 

     “Dally?”

     Silence. I hated when he was like this. It’s so easy for him to fall into these moods, but so hard to pull him out. There was no use trying to reason with him in moments like these. I had to let him cool down. 

     We sat in his room in silence, on opposite sides of the bed. Moments passed, until he finally pulled me into a hug. I hugged him back, inhaling the scent of his cologne. He let go and stroked the side of my face with his thumb, looking deeply into each others eyes. Moments like these were so rare. Moments where his guard was completely down. Moments where he showed genuine affection.

     “Baby I’m sorry.” he said, barely audible.

     “Are you hurt?” he asked, growing with concern as he started to inspect me for injuries. 

     “I’mma be okay. Nothin’ I can’t handle, right?” I let a slight smile form on my lips.

     He did as well, as he got up in search of something. He left the room for a minute or two and came back with a bowl of water and a cloth.

     “For the cut on your lip.” he said with a slight nod.

     My hand rose to my lip. I didn’t even realize I got hit there. I thought to myself as Dally sat down on the bed with the bowl and cloth. He dipped the cloth into the water and brought it gently to my lip. The pressure hurt, even if it was very little. I guess he noticed too, for he pulled his hand away quickly.

     “Sorry. I’m not good at this.”

     He continued tending to my lip for a while longer, until he got it to stop bleeding. I decided to do the same for his hands. I took the cloth from him and grabbed his hand. I pressed the cloth to his wound, applying minimal pressure, but he still squeezed my hand in pain. I repeated this until his hand was clean, and then did the same to his other hand. I put the bowl on one of the dressers in his room. Dally pulled off his shirt and laid down on the bed. I laid down on the bed next to him, snuggling close to him. He pulled the blanket further over us, which smelled strongly like his cologne. It wasn’t long until we drifted off to sleep.

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     I woke up to Dally running his fingers through my hair. We stayed like this for a while. Then, I let it slip.

     “I love you”

     I felt his body tense up. Shit. I fucked up. He got up and started walking around the room, picking up my things.

     “Dally” I said, being ignored.

     “Dally” I repeated.

     “Y/N, you have to go.” he said, handing me my possessions. 

     “Dally listen to--”

     “No” he cut me off.

     “You need to go.” 

     “Now.”

     “No Dally. You’re going to listen to me.”

     “I’m tired of this bullshit. I’m tired of you getting all mad for no reason, refusing to talk about it, and then later acting like nothing happened. I’m tired of your attitudes that appear out of nowhere. I’m tired of you blaming me for everything. It hurts Dallas. It hurts. I love you Dallas. I’d do anything for you. But not this.” 

     Nothing. He said nothing. Just stared. Stared with a hurt look. There was a hint of something else in his eyes, but I couldn’t detect what. Then he masked it up, the only thing apparent in his eyes was anger. I pushed passed him and out the door. Out the door with my shoes barely on and my jacket falling off my shoulders.

     Where I was walking I wasn’t quite sure. I didn’t really have anywhere else to go. My step mom was verbally and physically abusive, so I technically really didn’t have a home. I supposed I would just go to the Curtis house. They were like my older brothers, even if I was older than Pony. I always felt bad for spending so much time at their house, but I haven’t stayed the night in a while because my nights were occupied by Dallas. Darry never really seemed to care though, maybe because I helped him pay bills when I had the money.

     I knocked at the door because the lights were still on. What time is it anyways? Darry answered the door almost immediately. I hesitated to speak, a sudden feeling of guilt coming upon me. 

     “H-hi. I was wondering if I could umm, just like if I could like, spend the night?”

     Eww that was cringy awkward.

     “Dally or your parents?” he asked.

     “Dally.” It hurt saying his name. 

     “Well you know you’re always welcome here.” he said leading me in.

     Oh how many nights I spent on this couch. 

     “Goodnight Y/N.”

     “Goodnight Darry.”

     That just left me and my thoughts. Fun. I let my mind wander through the events of the day. How quickly things changed. It started off as a walk, to a bar fight, to cuddling, to fighting, and finally being alone. Which was worse? 

     Dally and I were alike in most ways. No parents. Cocky attitudes. Police records. But we also had our differences. I would only talk about my problems if I trusted you and you asked persistently, he wouldn’t talk if you held a blade to his throat. I used to be like that. You hurt someone enough that’s how they get, and trustworthy people are hard to come by. I still don’t think I’ll ever be able to figure out Dallas Winston, or why he was the way he was. And for the second time that night I felt my eyes close, as I drifted to sleep. 

     Footsteps. The creak of the door. My hand immediately went to my switchblade. I switched it open, and was met with his eyes. Dally. He put his hands up in surrender.

     “Easy there, doll.”

     “Oh, it’s you.”

     “Hey, don’t act so excited to see me.” he said sarcastically.

     “What do you want?”

     “To fix this. To fix us.” he continued

     “Well, you know, I was, I was thinking about what you said earlier. And, I’m sorry. I’m honestly sorry. I was scared, man. I was scared to let anyone get close to me. But then I did. I was scared to care too much about anyone. But I do. And then I was scared to love anyone. And when you said that, when you said that you loved me, it just became a reality. And then I was scared of loving you, because I was scared of losing you. And man, I don’t expect you to forgive me now. I don’t even expect you to forgive me ever. But I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just let another great thing walk out of my life like that.”

     I smiled. “You’re forgiven, stupid”

     “Now come lay with me, I’m tired”

     He smirked. I layed on his chest, mostly because there was no other way to fit on the small couch. I felt him doze off. I finally understood Dallas Winston. Underneath all the police records and jail time, was just a boy. A boy who was scared of being in love, for he’d never been loved, truly loved. And who could blame him?

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     Plop. Ouch. Was that a pillow? I opened my eyes to see Two-Bit standing across the living room. 

     “Wake up love birds.” he mocked, smirking.

     Dally glared, and threw the pillow back, hard. And when I say he threw it hard, I mean hard. That shit hit Two-Bit smack in the face, with such force it knocked his head into the wall he was leaning on. I chuckled. I could never get tired of this.

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