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tuliprry · 2 years ago

Text

sparks - h.s.

summary: y/n meets harry, a much older man while she's on vacation in southern spain.. somehow 45 minutes are all it takes to fall in love

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), cursing, divorce, DRAMAAAAA, age gap, sort of a daddy kink?, lot's of fluff

clover's notes: for some reason tumblr changed my paragraph structure and the little symbols i had to differentiate the moments 🥲 i'll try and fix this

word count: 8.5k

y/n’s pov - august 1st

the sun shined through the hotel curtains and i groaned, i tapped my phone's screen and read 8:35am, it's so hot right now i can actually feel my brain frying, i turned on the air conditioner and closed my eyes. i have been in marbella for a day, i work at a hotel in london and in a hotel get together last month i won a week at the exact same hotel but in marbella. i could've invited a friend or even a cousin but truth be told i need this week away from everyone, my job, my family, school, seriously everyone and everything back in london. i groan once more, 8:39am, fuck this shit i'm getting up. i took a short cold shower in hopes the spanish weather would not eat me alive as soon as i stepped foot outside, i dressed a white dress with little white flowers and beige sandals with a semi decent heel, i grabbed my tote bag and threw in a book, my airpods, sunscreen and my wallet. I grabbed my sunglasses and my room card and was out my bedroom, to be honest i didn't want to go out of the hotel and visit, my entire body is honestly needing a piñacolada and a sweet calming time reading my book, which consists of beach reach by emily henry.

the pool area isn't too packed, likely because it's only 9am, i walk over to the bar area and i must've looked desperate ordering that piñacolada because the barman looked at me like i'm some sort of weirdo, maybe its the drinking alcohol at 9am on a tuesday but you see, being 23 and struggling with a master thesis, strangers and a job and your family trying to set you up with a guy you despise from your high school years you might end up just like me. as he prepared my drink i walked over to a sun lounger that hid completely in the shade and dropped my bag on top of it, only taking my wallet back to the bar, "the gentleman already paid for you", i read the name tag on the barman's t-shirt, miguel and almost repeated it out loud to ask him who the gentleman was but miguel was already talking to someone else. i look over the round counter of the bar and there's a very nicely put man with whiskey in a cup in front of him, yikes, must be having a harder week than me. "enjoy your drink" he spoke loudly enough for me to understand it, "thank you for paying for it", i reply taking a sip through the brown paper straw, "ah you're british?" he questions as he plays with his glass, "yeah, are you?" i ask, keeping an eye on my bag, "yeah i am, i come to málaga often so i've got a nice tan", he's sounds so smooth, his words aren't slurring after each other like i do, he speaks slowly but in a sexy way which gets me mentally slap myself. "if you don't mind, i left my bag over there and i have a romance waiting for me, thank you once again for the drink... that was very kind" i announced getting off the high stool and walking away before he could give me a response.

i felt weird the rest of the morning, i couldn't focus on my book nor listen to music, my brain remained stuck on the man from the bar, jesus, i came here to get away from trouble and i'm definitely just burying myself in a big one that happens to dress nicely, my eyes scanned the book one more time, oh this is ridiculous! i have read this sentence a thousand times today and i can’t seem to wrap my head around it. i looked over the book, just to take a peek at the man one more time but he wasn’t at the bar counter anymore, i pout and grab my phone, scrolling through instagram.

"margarita?" a large shadow covers the little sunshine that was warming my body up, "huh? oh! hi mr british man", i smile to him and my stomach feels bottomless for a second, i sit on my sun lounger as i grab the glass, "so... will british man finally tell me his name?" i ask sipping on the margarita, he sits on the lounger next to mine as he sips on something that definitely isn't a margarita, "i'm harry, you?", "i'm y/n!" i sound way too excited but he smiles at me, "and what does beautiful y/n do in marbella all by herself?", his eyes look like they're undressing my soul, dead ass staring me, "well um, im a masters student and i'm under a lot of pressure so i won this free week at the hotel... and you?", i try to stare him the same way but i end up looking like what my dad calls, angry puppy, "i own a winery and a wine cellar and my wines are very well loved so they also offered me a week over here" he takes another sip of what i now assume it's wine disguised in a margarita glass, "oh! i wouldn't take you as a wine owner" i blurt out, "no?", "well you look like a young writer and you're here to get inspired! or maybe it's just the plot of the book i'm reading" i point at the book and play gently with the little paper umbrella on my glass, "i'm not a writer nor young but i'm glad i still look interesting" he seems genuinely content that i just thought he was just a little older than me, "before you ask.. i turn 39 in february", i almost immediately reply "god thats so hot" but i swallow my words, "i'm 23 and i'm far from being interesting harry, look at me im a 23 year old reading romances hiding from glorious spanish sun and im a masters student in theatre arts that is currently doing a thesis in contemporary musicals and performance.. god i need a sip" he's smiling at me, i don't know why because i feel like i just said the most boring phrase for regular people, "that is very interesting, y/n, at 23 i had no prospects for my future so... you're doing good", oh that was it, my stomach felt even more out of my body with that small praise, i feel my cheeks burn and i try to look away from harry, feeling like a shy child.

it's been 45 minutes and we're still talking, i can't help but stare at him more than i should, so much so i immediately said yes when he asked if we could have lunch together on his boat, didn't even have the decency to think for a minute before getting back to him, truth is sometimes my mind slips to my ex boyfriend, we broke up a month ago and when i opened instagram on the airport yesterday, there he was, spending money on a hotel with a beautiful girl and i had to hold my tears from crying on my first day of vacation and now here's this man.. man... a man! asking me to have lunch on his yacht and it gets my brain so intoxicated with dopamine making a little gentle smile pop up in my lips.

on a small boat, a spanish man took us to harry's yacht, that read "brisa parisina" (parisian breeze), i had never been this close to a yacht ever, my times at the sea were always a month in cornwall with my dad after him and my mum got divorced and we stayed back in london so my siblings and i wouldn't have to change schools, but i had never been so close to such a big boat, harry thanks the man and hands him a 50 euro bill and i gulp looking at the big tip for a 5 minute trip from the deck to harry's yacht, but it’s his money so i try to not show my shocked face as he steps out of the small boat to the ladder that leads to what i assume the deck of the yacht, he reaches his hand out for me and i say “muchas gracias” to the man and get on top of the boat with harry’s help. the immediate thing i see is the light brown flooring that has grey cushions on top on the right and left, leaving a small path towards the helm station that controls the boat that has sofa looking like cushions on both sides and a small table. harry keeps walking through that and gets down the most tight staircase i’ve ever seen and been on, there’s a table, a big tv, and more sofas and even art hanging in the walls, a kitchenette with lots of storage place, four oven tops, a microwave, a sink bigger than mine at home and a small fridge and freezer, my stomach starts to hurt, i had realise this man was rich.. but like not i have a huge yacht rich, right after the kitchen (that even has a small wine compartment and a huge cooking space that has me speechless), there’s another small door that leads to a suite, a huge bedroom that i would not say was behind the tiny door and a very decent sized bathroom. “you can leave your bag here” harry points at the bed and i nod, “there’s another two bedrooms and bathrooms on the other side of the yacht but they’re pretty much the same, just smaller”, not one but two bedrooms? i take my phone out of my bag and type in the brand of the boat on google, 1 million pounds, i almost let a scream out of my mouth as i read the price and then the costs of maintaining a boat like this and my asos dress suddenly feels like a potato bag. i can see harry from where i’m standing, he’s opening a bottle of red wine and i’m tempted to google the price of it too.. but i don’t, i locked my phone and threw it to the bed along with my stuff and walked back to him.

“okay you have to try this wine, it’s a cabernet sauvignon from my winery in italy, it has a black cherry and black pepper flavour but i think you’ll enjoy it” he hands me a glass, “do you like mushroom paté? i have some we can snack on as i make lunch” i take a sip of the wine and god, i’ve never had red wine this good, in fact i think i’ve hated all the times i had red wine, “i’ve never had wine this good.. nor mushroom paté.. sorry” i can feel my cheeks flush and i look out the small window above the sink, staring at the blue ocean, harry gets closer to me and he looks way taller when he’s this close, “good thing there’s a first time for everything, right?” he whispers but almost melodically, “can i kiss you?” his tone remains the same, give me goosebumps that led to a broken “yes” and placing the wine glass on the kitchenette counter. his hands met my face, both his thumbs on my cheeks, he firstly gives me a peck and then proceeds to kiss me with more passion this time, his tongue in sync with mine, one his hands that was holding my face drops to my waist, pulling me closer to him, i can feel him smile in between the kiss and i open my eyes, “what’s so funny?” i ask trying to make an angry voice, “you taste good that’s all”, “oh yeah?”, “taste very good” he then kisses me again, this time shorter. “what do you want for lunch?” harry opens one of the cupboards over my head and takes a cream coloured saucepan with a brown wood handle out, “you invited me harry i don’t know”, “what about truffled macaroni with smoked haddock and then i let it bake for a bit?” i’m pretty sure i’ve never had haddock in the first place, “harry.. sorry to ask, what’s.. a haddock?”, i feel embarrassed, telling a 38 year old man i’ve never had.. whatever he mentioned, “oh! it’s a fish.. i can always make it vegetarian if you prefer?” i smile to him, “how did you know i want to be a vegetarian?” i furrowed my eyebrows, “i didn’t but i’m a flexitarian so i have tofu in here”, i’m starting to believe this man is too good to be true, “you know i have to follow the times and eating less meat and fish is a way to help the planet”, okay i need to get into his pants now this isn’t a joke, “wow”, “what?”, “nothing, i’m not used to hanging out with men that are educated on these things” i say honestly, he gives me a shy smile and points to the oven, “want to help me cook?”, “yeah of course”.

after lunch that was paired with a white wine that i honestly couldn’t pronounce, harry sailed the boat to further from the dock, i wouldn’t say we were in the middle of nowhere but we weren’t exactly somewhere i could pin point, my phone even says my location is the mediterranean sea. i’m laying down on the deck sofa’s in the shade as harry is now coming back upstairs wearing only black and white swim shorts and flip flops, “why aren’t you catching some sun, y/n? it’s a great day” he sits next to me, grabbing my legs and putting them on his lap, “i’m terrified of getting a sunburn, i got one a few years ago in sandymouth and i couldn’t sleep for two weeks, i don’t need that again” i sighed closed the book i’m yet to read properly, “oh you’re from cornwall?” harry asks, “my dad lives in plymouth but i’m actually from london, i mean i was born in romford but yeah… you?”, “well i’m from a small town near manchester but i live in london for.. 20 years now”, 20 years… god he was 18 when he moved to london, i was 3 when he was 18 oh my god, “i’ve actually never been to manchester” i admit, i don’t know how is that any interesting but it’s the truth, “whenever you want to, i’m more than happy to show you around” he offers as he stars to rub my legs.. gently, i honestly feel like moaning and he’s not even doing anything too special, “do you mind if i work a little bit next to you?” he doesn’t stop the massage on my right leg, “shouldn’t this be your vacation, harry?”, “it should but-“, “no buts! let me get up lets find something to do” i say enthusiastically, i sit next to him and grab his hand, “do you have any games? we just ate so i don’t think swimming in the cold water is good for us”, “i think my goddaughter left a unicorn cards game when she was here with me” he affirms, “GREAT! let’s play”.

“unstable unicorns, build a unicorn army, betray your friends, unicorns are your friends now” harry reads off the box, to explain quickly, you start the game with one baby unicorn of your choice, and then the deck is shuffled and u get 5 cards, those can be basic unicorns, magic unicorns, magic cards, upgrades, downgrades or a neigh (that stops the other players play), i explain exactly the same to harry, i had played this game with my friends and harry didn’t fully remember how to play, “i pick this baby” i say grabbing a rainbow coloured baby unicorn card, harry picks a pink coloured baby unicorn and says, “this is my god daughters favourite baby”, i smile at the thought of harry with children, “how old is she?”, “she’s 8, we spent her 8th here actually” he observes as he shuffles the deck and places 5 cards in front of each of us, i grab my cards and i try to hide the little smirk on my face, “y/n start you’re the one wearing a colourful bikini” he looks over to me and i place a basic unicorn next to the baby unicorn, “look harry it’s you” i point at the unicorn with a beard, “oh are you calling me basic y/n?” he fakes an angry tone, “no! i’m just saying this very cute unicorn is you because of the beard!” i reply pretending to be offended he thought i was offending him, “don’t be upset, little girl, i was just messing with you” oh good grief i can feel my stomach doing flips, he plays a basic unicorn as well and the came continues, with actions and neighs and yelling at each other over downgrades that made me sacrifice one of my unicorns which led to me stealing harry’s baby unicorn, “HA!” i scream, “I GOT YOOOOOU” she giggles as she places the pink baby on her stable, “y/n! not the baby!” he pouts and stares at his game, i didn’t know he was a sore loser but he seriously looked very upset, i got up and stood next to him, “harry i didn’t mean to upset you it’s just a game, i’ll give you your unicorn back” i affirm, “harry c’mon” i squat so i can look at his face from under, “i’m sorry” i place my hand on his thigh and he looks to me, “don’t be” i don’t even have time to process his words because his lips crash in mine and when i realise we are kissing again, i get up and he follows me, going back to my lips immediately after, running his hands through my shoulders and then my arms. “you scared me” i say in between kisses, “sorry.. it was just sweet to see you that worried about me” he whispers against my mouth, “i didn’t mean to upset you, h”, “you didn’t”, he gives me a little peck, “want to finish the game, unicorn robber?”, “HEY! and yes”.

i ended up winning the first game and harry the second so we were even but i couldn’t stop thinking about those kisses, i was putting the cards back in the box and harry was making us gin and tonic, “we could go for a swim don’t you think?” he suggests as he’s finishing the drinks, “i’m scared to swim without feeling the sand or ground harry, i’m not exactly tall like you” i admit, “don’t worry, i got you” he says as he places one of the cups in front of me, “i wouldn’t ask if i had intentions of not being there in case you need me, plus it’s 4pm the water must be so great now” he sits next to me and gives me a small forehead kiss before sipping on his gin, “sooooo”, “fine! but don’t let me go”, “i could never”. so we did end up swimming for a bit, mediterranean sea was warm and it felt good to swim with harry, i ended up sitting at the edge of the boat as he swam a little more, “you know you don’t look 38 right” i think the second glass of gin is making me too honest, “i don’t?”, “god no, you look max 28, i swear i was eye fucking you when i saw you sitting at the bar this morning”, “oh.. you were eye fucking me?” he furrowed his eyebrows as he swam back to me, sitting on the small space next to me, “tell me more” he emphasises on the more, “harry…”, i try not to sound worried, “yes?”, i get up and show him my hand so he can follow me, i sit on the sofa right next to the wheel, “i feel like i need to tell you this, i broke up with my boyfriend a month ago, he didn’t have time for me and he barely talked to me and it reached a point i was doing everything alone and i felt like i was the one fighting for my relationship and without me there would be nothing so i broke up with him” i vomit the words, “yesterday when i landed in malaga, he was posting stories on a hotel room with this girl i had seen comment his instagram posts and it really got to me.. and i don’t want to do anything without you knowing this” i breathe out and i feel relieved but worried about what harry could possibly say, “that fucking sucks y/n, i’m really sorry he did that to you, a real man would never do that” he cleans the tear off my cheek, “and i’m glad you told me, gives me more reasons to treat you like a lady deserves to be treated”, oh god here comes the butterflies again, “harry…can i kiss you again?” i ask and he nods, not waiting for me to make a move and kissing me again, salty from the sea and the small drips from our hairs falling onto our faces, “want to go downstairs?” he asks, “yes, please”.

“harry we’re wet you sure you want to do this now?” i ask mid kiss, “i need you so bad i don’t care”, his hands grab my face, “i just want to make you feel good, bunny”, harry purrs, i immediately press my thighs together to his words and especially the new nickname out of his mouth, “lay down for me, please” he murmured and i laid back as fast as i could, almost desperately harry’s hands meet then my pink high waist bikini bottoms, pulling them along my legs and throwing them to the ground, his hands separated my knees, giving him full view of my vagina, “fuck” he blurted, “can i taste you?”, my legs immediately feel like jell-o when he asks, “yes, yes please” i cried out. he licked his lips and proceeded to kiss my inner left thigh as his free hand massaged my right thigh tenderly, his index finger brushed against my slit, making me whimper to his touch, "god damn y/n" he breathed, "your pussy is so pretty, bunny, all wet... just for me", a couple of words and i was basically melting in front of this man, without warning his warm tongue flicks against my folds, i bucked my hips up and grabbed the sheets, holding onto them, my brain was fuzzy at this point, “harry… harry please” i cried out, i needed him so fucking bad, “hush bunny” i look down and his eyes are filled with lust as his lips part from my pussy, his middle finger slid right in, he eyes me and his mouth finds its way to my clit, gently nibbling on it as his finger thrust inside me, “harry..” i moan as my vision literally starts to go black, “cum for me, bunny” he grunts and i let go of the sheets at the same time i cum in harry’s finger. he removed his finger at the same time his free thumb keeps stimulating my clit, he sucks his finger and then looks at me with a grin on his face, “you taste so fucking good”, but i don’t have time to reply, he’s cleaning the cum off my already so sensitive cunt.

he moves his body up to kiss me, there’s saliva running down his chin and falling onto my chest, “see how good you taste, y/n? fuck you’re driving me insane”, he untangles the straps of my bikini top, that ends up on the bedroom floor as well, “your tits are perfect”, he hungry says as he pinches my nipples, a hint of pain all over my body when he does that but it feels to good, his mouth is busy getting to know my other nipple, “i love that you taste like the sea” he admits. in a swift he takes his swimming trunks, his cock is pressed against my pussy and i’m so close to begging him to fuck me, hard. “harry.. i need you, please”, he kisses my lips one more time as his cock pushes in inside me, slowly, inch by inch, i was already so sensitive that whatever game this man was trying to play was making me dizzy, speechless. once he was all in, his thrusts became more rapid and in sync, hitting my g spot, his index finger was back on my clit rubbing it frantically, he kissed me and i could feel my heart racing and my pussy clenching around him, “harry, harry i’m gonna cum” my legs start shaking, “fuck fuck wait for me” he pleads and i hold onto his back, pressing my nails against it, my eyes roll back as he collapses inside me with one last thrust. shockwaves through my entire body feeling his warmth inside of me.

“has anyone ever told you..you give the best orgasms ever? fuck, you’re such a good girl” harry cooed, making my already flushed cheeks burn even more, “actually i.. i had never had an orgasm with anyone if not… myself”, harry looks at me dead serious as he carefully removes himself from inside me, “a day of firsts, huh, bunny?” he kisses me, “if you keep calling me bunny i fear i need you to fuck me again” i blur out, “oh yeah, bunny? how about we talk about it in the shower?”

by the time we were done in the shower it was too late to come back to the port deck so harry ended up giving me one of his t-shirts and briefs, “what do you want for dinner?”, he asks, grabbing the already opened bottle of red wine, “is it bad that.. i want to say you?”, “okay i know you said i don’t look old but twice in a day almost put me on cardiac arrest, little girl”, i giggle to his response and hug him from behind, “sorry! i think i’m intoxicated by you, i just need you so fucking bad”, he looks at me, pensive, “jesus christ, y/n…you’re a filthy slut aren’t you?” he turns around, looking me in the eyes, “you’re probably ruining my briefs just by thinking about me fucking you, am i right?”, i stand immobile, i can’t even find any words to describe how wet i am or how he’s completely right, “aw, did i make my princess speechless?”, he gets his face closer to mine, “if you behave like the good little girl i know you are..maybe just maybe, daddy will take care of you before bed” he turns around getting various vegetables out of the fridge, “care to help me, princess?”, i gulp and quickly reply, “yes of course”.

i woke up to harry’s typing on his laptop, i groaned as i stretched my arms and legs next to him, “harry… you told me you wouldn’t work c’mon” i sit and place my head on his shoulder, “sorry, my ex wife sent me an email saying she wants the yacht for the 21st of august and i was telling her no because i got the yacht on the divorce”, my smile fades and it’s like i’m close to throw up, ex.. ex wife.. he was married? oh. “oh.. your ex?.. wife?”, he closes his laptop and places his hand on my thigh, “yeah, we got divorced 5 years ago” he squeezes my thigh as he speaks, “you don’t need to worry y/n.. 24 hours with you made me feel more alive than 2 years with her”, he kisses my forehead and i smile to myself, god what is this man doing to me, i’m here jealous over an ex wife and happy i won something she’s not even in the race for, “harry” i say, “yeah?”, “can we go back to marbella? i really want my clothes” he laughs and nods in agreement.

back at the hotel, harry is sitting at the edge of my bed, “harry i’m not sure i should join you to golf.. you’re golfing with santiago hernandez, my literal boss!”, “and have u ever met him?”, “no he has never been to the london hotel in the 2 years i’ve worked there but that doesn’t mean it’s not weird” i turn my back to him, “zip my dress up, please?” i ask, he zips the yellow sundress up carefully, “y/n just join me, princess, if he asks just say you work for me”, “yes, because i’m a great wine expert!” i mock him as i gesture my hands, indicating that harry is insane. “i can always say you’re my wife, my very sexy wife”, he pulls me closer and buries his face in my boobs, “i can even mark you up, so he knows you’re all mine” i feel my panties soaking already, “harry.. fine! but just because it’s a very good argument” i try to hide the smile on my face, “but care to explain how are we married without wedding rings?” i raise his chin up, “we can always buy them”, “harry i have £64 on my account, i can maximum buy a claire’s ring that will turn my finger green” i give him a gentle peck, “oh no no you’re MY wife, i’m buying you a wedding band… if he asks your engagement ring is getting cleaned”, “you really thought this through, huh?”, “when it comes to you, i don’t see money, princess, i’m spoiling you for as long as you want me to” he kisses my neck, “about those marks… can i please?” i let out an “mhm”, i loved how harry constantly asked me for consent but at the same time was assertive and a couple of words would literally make me ruin a pair of panties.

i looked in the mirror before leaving, noticing the hickey on my left boob, i tried to brush off my thoughts but i just couldn’t. harry was matching me, yellow pants and green polo, looking way too good for my thoughts to go away, i can’t play golf, in fact i think i’ve only played mini golf my entire life, “sweetpea, do you prefer gold or silver?” harry asks, looking at a collection of wedding bands, “i personally like gold more” i say, looking at a pair of golden hoops with daisies dangling from it, “do you like them?” harry looks over my shoulder, “yeah they’re pretty…. don’t even think about it” i give him a “mean” look, “fine! just choose the band you like the most” he says pointing at the golden wedding bands, “that one is pretty and simple”, “then that one it is”. he’s purchasing the wedding bands and i stand next to him just staring, “it’ll be those daisy earrings too”, he points and i gasp, “harry no?”, “y/n yes.. it’s my money, just let me get them.” he hands in a black card to the salesperson and i hold his free hand, still a little upset. harry drives us to the los naranjos golf club, before we get out of the car, each of us puts the wedding band, i feel so weird at first, i’ve never been a good liar and this was a big fucking lie. at the reception harry shows his membership to the club and then points at me, “she’s my wife”, i press my lips together so i don’t say something i shouldn’t and i stand there eyeing the red haired woman, “oh we can put your wife down for a membership”, she points at a computer screen, “maybe later, would that be okay?” harry’s arm is wrapped around my waist, tightly. “yeah of course, mr. styles, here’s your wife’s pass for the day”, she hands me a laminated pass that proves i can he there for the day and we make our way in, harry gripping onto my waist still, “oh hello harry” a tall man with brown hair a beige hat speaks up as he walks in our direction, “santiago! hey man”, i gulp, to be totally honest i had never seen the man that pays my paycheck so i just hold harry as well, hoping he does all the talking, “you got remarried?” santiago asks laying his eyes on me, “yeah dude, it was a very spontaneous thing but i couldn’t wait any longer”, harry smiles at me, “this is y/n.. y/n this is santiago” he introduces us and i reach my hand but santiago comes in for a kiss on each cheek, “it’s how we do it in spain” he exclaims. “will y/n be playing with us?” before harry can reply i let out a laugh, “god no i’ve never payed golf”, “play with us sweetpea, i’ll teach you”.

“i’ve only ever played mini golf with my nephews”

“you have nephews?”

“yes two and they always lose”

“it would be bad if you lost mini golf to children don’t you think y/n?”

“oh yeah? i bet u a thousand kisses that i win mini golf back in london”

“you’re on, princess”

it’s been an hour and a half, i’m sitting on the golf cart, drinking a mojito as i wait for my turn to play, a woman that i assume is santiago’s wife is also sitting here, she’s not playing though, she’s on the phone talking about pta meetings and dentist appointments, she sometimes glances at me and does a very disgusted face, “y/n! baby! it’s your turn” harry screams, i place the mojito on the cart and i run to him, “help me?” i kiss him and he places himself behind me, “i know exactly what you are doing y/n and it’s not funny” he whispers in my ear and puts my arms in the correct angle, “be a good little girl for me, yeah?” harry then kisses my cheek and moves my arms so the club hits the little white ball. “i think santiago’s wife hates me” i mention it to harry, grabbing his hand, “what? why? did she say anything to you?” his relaxed expression is now a worried one, tensing his eyebrows, “no.. she just looks at me weird” i sigh, “is she.. friends with your ex wife?” i regret the question the moment i ask it, “yeah.. she is, i’m so sorry y/n, i didn’t even think about it when i asked you, she usually doesn’t even come to our games.. i’m really sorry, princess” i frown as he explains, his lips kiss my forehead, “it’s okay” i lie, walking back to the cart, drinking the rest of my mojito.

harry’s pov

after the game y/n ran to the bathroom, the mojito really took a toll on her bladder, so i’m outside with santiago and phillipa, i feel tense just thinking that phillipa could’ve possibly mentioned lauren to y/n or mentioned y/n to lauren, “so harry, santiago told me you got remarried… i asked lauren and she had no idea” phillipa says with a cynical tone, “that’s because lauren is my ex wife, she doesn’t need to know what i do with my life” i snark back, “and isn’t your new wife.. kinda young” phillipa strikes again, santiago touches her arm and i breathe in, “she looks like she’s still university… oh wait she is! isn’t that weird, harry? marrying a woman that is maximum 24?” her words ringing in my ears, “phillipa mi amor, don’t” santiago says sternly, “what? santiago she’s much younger than him, would u go for a younger woman?”, “he’s divorced he can do whatever he wants, pipa, c’mon!”.

and then i see her, with two ice cream cups on her hand, “they had the absolutely disgusting mint chip” y/n hands me the cup, “yuck” she exclaims, “oh.. sorry guys i didn’t know what flavours you liked”, i don’t know how this woman does it, has me grabbed by the throat, completely whipped when i’ve known her for a little over 24 hours. “oh that’s okay y/n” santiago says, “pipa and i were just leaving… i’m sorry harry” he says as he shakes my hand and leaves, semi yelling at phillipa. “what happened?” y/n asks, grabbing a scoop of her pistachio ice cream, “nothing, want to go back to the hotel?”.

the next 5 days fly by, y/n moved her stuff into my room and we have been doing everything together, so much so we have not taken the wedding bands off, y/n asked if we could keep wearing them and i couldn’t say no, i could never say no to her. so we are now at the málaga airport, y/n is going through a romance section of books in english and telling me how she has read at least 90% of the books in there, “harry my tummy hurts, do you have any paracetamol with u?” she asks and i get out of my daydreamy state of mind, “i think i do, what’s wrong?” i open my tote bag and hand the tablet to y/n, “my period must be starting soon”, “oh nooo my sweet princess, do you want a kiss?” i don’t wait for her reply and start kissing her face, “are you sure you want to.. continue this back in london?”, “what? y/n, i’m so sure of this.. of us.. i’m still wearing a fake wedding band for you..i’m 100% sure.”

y/n’s pov

life back in london has definitely been special, minus the fact that whenever i say i’m sleeping over at willow’s i actually mean i’m staying at harry’s and i use the name of his cat.. but other than that, things are good, harry presented me to some of his friends, goes to musicals with me, ended up meeting my younger sister milly, to drop off a christmas gift at my house, making my youngest sister jane force me to facetime harry on christmas day so she could meet him too, a very persuasive 15 year old.. and god the sex, i don’t think i’ve ever had this much fun in my life ever, this man just knows exactly how to treat me right, driving me completely insane at times.

6 months later

today is harry’s birthday, i spent my morning in class and basically prayed the tube would be fast as fuck so i could be at harry’s house by lunch time, i got there around 2:13pm, starving, i opened harry’s apartment door and was greeted by willow, “oh hi my sweet girl” i say enthusiastically, “where’s your dad” i chase willow to the kitchen, harry is naked, only wearing an apron as he cooks what i bet it’s his tomato and beans pastry, “i don't know what looks better, my husband naked or your famous pastry” i giggle as i put my bags on the floor and run to kiss him, “happy birthday my love”, i kiss him again, “to your question, both are great things, second, thank you, princess” he kisses my forehead, “okay! i have your gifts, do you want to open them now?” i ask grabbing the bags i put on the floor, “three bags? y/n i told u to not spend money on me” his tone is demanding, almost mean, and i can’t help but love it, “oh one of these i have to put on and you take it off, ya know?” his eyes widened, “oh i do know” he smirks. harry’s gifts are an intimacy card deck for us to play on our stay in date nights, the lingerie set with hearts that he said and i’ll quote “would love to fuck you in this” so..i got it and an electric wine opener, personalised with his name, “fuck princess, you treat me so good” this kiss is more passionate than when i got home, “do you want me to put this on?” i question him, innocently, “yes fuck yeah baby please”.

sex with harry is always a religious experience, doesn’t matter if it’s morning, afternoon or night he always finds a way to exhaust the life out of me… in a very good way, harry is on his laptop looking for the same lingerie set, because even though i asked, he ripped the bra trying to get it off, my legs still feel wobbly, i check the time on my phone and it’s 5pm, our dinner reservation is only at 8pm so i have more than enough time to rest, i look at myself in the bathroom mirror, god i look like i’ve been through a tornado, i take my eyeliner (or the rest of it) off and brush my hair putting it on a ponytail, i pee and i go the bedroom to get a new pair of panties, “harry where’s my care bears robe?” i ask mid yawn, “behind the bathroom door, love” i nod and put the fake wedding band on my finger, i see harry smiling to himself, “oh shut up” i say walking into his bathroom again and putting on a dark pink robe with various care bears drawings that matched the care bears slippers, this was one of harry’s christmas gift to me, he said he had never met anyone that loved care bears as much as me, i smile at the memory. the doorbell rings and i get out of the bathroom, “get dressed harry it’s likely a friend of yours to wish you a happy birthday”, “oh when did you get so demanding”, “c’mooooon get dressed old man!”.

i run downstairs and i open the door, “..you’re not harry” the woman grunts, “no….i’m his-“, “oh you’re the new wife.”, “um.. i’ll go get.. harry” i’m so confused by this woman i just rush upstairs again, “there’s a woman at the door” i sit in bed, petting willow, “a woman?”, “yeah.. mid 30s.. brunette.. brown eyes, gucci bag” i try and describe her, “oh” that’s all he says. “oh? why oh? who is that- oh” i put two and two together, i had always told harry i didn’t want to know who his ex wife was and that came right after me, “come with me, please, i don’t want to be with her alone” harry lets out a loud sigh, “of course harry” in reality i’m shitting myself. he goes ahead of me and she has made herself at home, sitting on the sofa, “what do you want, lauren?”, she gets up and goes to hug him but harry immediately stops her, “oh is that how you greet your ex-wife?.. didn’t take you for a rude person, harry. i guess your new wife has changed you” bitch, bitch, BITCH, is all i can think, my blood is boiling so hard, it feels illegal to be angry in care bear clothing. “you’re my ex wife for a reason, can you please tell me what the fuck do you want?” harry puts himself in front of me and i clench my fists out of anger, “came to wish you a happy birthday, baby”, “my god lady will you please get the fuck out” i yell, i don’t know where that came from but i feel angry and upset and close to beating her up if she doesn’t leave my home, i mean, harry’s home. “what? are you gonna let her speak to me like that?” she looks offended, good. “yes, get out of our home, now”… our home. our home.

harry and i don’t talk about what happened until we’re at the restaurant, he’s wearing a white shirt that isn’t buttoned all the way up, black pants with golden buttons and black loafers, he had a big heavy black coat on top that is now on the back of his chair, i’m wearing a ruffled light blue dress with spaghetti straps, the dress reaches my mid thigh and it’s freezing in february so i have tights on, my white doctor martens and a puffy jacket that is on my chair as well. he holds my hand on top of the table, “y/n.. i only love you, please know that.. well you and willow”, “i love you so much harry, i’m sorry this day isn’t your best birthday”, “don’t be silly, i spent 38 dreadful birthdays, i’m glad 39th is with the love of my life.” harry orders the wine for us, as usual, we both happen to go for pasta dishes… which let’s be honest is also the usual, “harry i’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay?” he nods as he’s munching on garlic bread. as i get out of the bathroom i see my older brother, angus, standing in front of me, “angus??? what the fuck” i whisper-yell at him, “y/n? what are you doing here? did mum and dad invite u?” that question almost made me die in front of him, “mum and dad are here?? fuck no! angus, angus do not tell them i’m here please! i’ll babysit jacob and matthew anytime u ask me to, u don’t even have to pay me anything” i’m desperate at this point, “heeeeeeeeey okay that’s a very big promise y/n.. oh good lord are you here with that older guy? IS THAT A WEDDING BAND” he just yelled that to the entire restaurant, “angus shut up!” as i yell back to my brother. i see my dad staring at the both of us causing a scene in a restaurant, my dad just recently got remarried…to his husband… paul and things in the family haven’t been easy, especially between him and my mum, which led him to flee the table looking for my brother for some peace, “y/n cookie, what are you doing here?”, “dad i’m here with my boyfriend but can u please, please not tell mummy?” i hope he can sense the panic in my voice because i’m literally about to throw up. “okay cookie, breathe love” my dad side hugs me, brushing his fingers through my cheek, “angus and i won’t tell mummy okay? go enjoy your dinner, cookie” i breathe out the air i was holding in and go back to the table. “i was going to look for you, y/n, i was getting worried” harry sits back down, “why are you shaking, what’s wrong?”, “my brother, my dad, my nephews…and my mum are all here..we are so fucked harry, my brother saw the wedding band and i’m pretty sure my dad did too but he promised not to say anything to my mum………..that is walking in our direction right now” this is it. i’m fucked. i’m so fucked, i don’t even know why i’m fucked at almost 24 but i’m fucked because i hid my relationship with a man 16 years my senior from my entire family but my siblings and i’m fucked. “y/n y/s/n y/l/n why are your brother and your father trying to lie to me? who is this?” oh god, i only have time to hide my hand under the table and breathe in and out. “hi mummy… um i.. this is harry” i’m stuttering, “hello ms y/l/n” harry gets up and stares at her, not knowing exactly what to do, “and what are you to my daughter?”, “i’m.. her boyfriend”, “y/n what is this?” i try to speak but nothing comes out of my mouth, i had nothing planned, i was thinking of maybe introducing harry to my family on my birthday party so it would be easier, “um.. uh.. well.. you know.. he..” i take my hand from under the table and hide my face in both my hands. bad idea. “oh my god, you got married to this man? how old are you? 50?” she starts yelling and i feel small, if i didn’t have words before now i just don’t want to be here anymore, my brother is trying to calm her down, harry is explaining they’re promise rings and he’s 39 which in my mum’s head is now 50 and my dad is holding the twins by the hand.

what. a. fucking. birthday.

i’m sitting on a bench, crying, harry is talking with my brother and my nephews and my parents are sat, one on each side, “amelia, let me do the talking, okay?” my dad snaps at my mum, “we just got expelled from a restaurant because of you, let ME do the talking” i had never seen my father this mad, “cookie, i understand your mum’s point by seeing you with a much older man, but i don’t understand why you didn’t come to us”, he’s now doing the cheek thing again, “because mum would make the exact same scene and harry would just see me as the stupid little girl that still needs her parents approval though she’s 23” i pout, i truly feel like a child with my reactions, “listen y/n.. i didn’t mean to cause a scene, bubs, i saw the rings and you know harry looks much older than you and i thought he was trying to hurt you” i swallow my tears, “how.. how long have you been dating this man”, “since august”, “AUGUST?”, “yes i’m so sorry”, i let my tears out again, “no, y/n don’t say sorry.. i feel so hurt with myself that you didn’t felt like it was safe to tell us for 6 months.. do milly and jane know?” when she mentions my younger sisters my expression changes from sad to guilty, “angus, milly and jane all knew… but only milly met harry”, “milly met harry?”, “yeah harry dropped off my christmas present at home and milly was the one that helped him…remember my friend willow.. the one i sleep over a lot and got me the care bears robe.. well willow is the name of harry’s cat” i just sat there in silence, i looked over at harry and the twins and i was no longer listening to my parents, “harry” i call out, “please come meet my mum and dad”.

i get up and stand next to him, “mummy, dad, this is harry, my boyfriend” i hold his hand tightly, playing with his wedding band.. i frown my eyebrows, i had never realised, his band was engraved with our initials.

the end (or not)

taglist: @psicostyles@behindmygreyeyes@your-local-lesbian-on-lexapro@mvaldez7821@tiktokandtvismylife @silvermistwannabe @harrysgoldenhome @subbbyharry @buckybarnessimpp@gabshouse @sassqwn @thegirlnextdoorssister @theanxietyqueen17 @michellekstyles

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fozmeadows · 4 years ago

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race & culture in fandom

For the past decade, English language fanwriting culture post the days of LiveJournal and Strikethrough has been hugely shaped by a handful of megafandoms that exploded across AO3 and tumblr – I’m talking Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Dr Who, the MCU, Harry Potter, Star Wars, BBC Sherlock – which have all been overwhelmingly white. I don’t mean in terms of the fans themselves, although whiteness also figures prominently in said fandoms: I mean that the source materials themselves feature very few POC, and the ones who are there tended to be done dirty by the creators.

Periodically, this has led POC in fandom to point out, extremely reasonably, that even where non-white characters do get central roles in various media properties, they’re often overlooked by fandom at large, such that the popular focus stays primarily on the white characters. Sometimes this happened (it was argued) because the POC characters were secondary to begin with and as such attracted less fan devotion (although this has never stopped fandoms from picking a random white gremlin from the background cast and elevating them to the status of Fave); at other times, however, there has been a clear trend of sidelining POC leads in favour of white alternatives (as per Finn, Poe and Rose Tico being edged out in Star Wars shipping by Hux, Kylo and Rey). I mention this, not to demonize individuals whose preferred ships happen to involve white characters, but to point out the collective impact these trends can have on POC in fandom spaces: it’s not bad to ship what you ship, but that doesn’t mean there’s no utility in analysing what’s popular and why through a racial lens.

All this being so, it feels increasingly salient that fanwriting culture as exists right now developed under the influence and in the shadow of these white-dominated fandoms – specifically, the taboo against criticizing or critiquing fics for any reason. Certainly, there’s a hell of a lot of value to Don’t Like, Don’t Read as a general policy, especially when it comes to the darker, kinkier side of ficwriting, and whether the context is professional or recreational, offering someone direct, unsolicited feedback on their writing style is a dick move. But on the flipside, the anti-criticism culture in fanwriting has consistently worked against fans of colour who speak out about racist tropes, fan ignorance and hurtful portrayals of living cultures. Voicing anything negative about works created for free is seen as violating a core rule of ficwriting culture – but as that culture has been foundationally shaped by white fandoms, white characters and, overwhelmingly, white ideas about what’s allowed and what isn’t, we ought to consider that all critical contexts are not created equal.

Right now, the rise of C-drama (and K-drama, and J-drama) fandoms is seeing a surge of white creators – myself included – writing fics for fandoms in which no white people exist, and where the cultural context which informs the canon is different to western norms. Which isn’t to say that no popular fandoms focused on POC have existed before now – K-pop RPF and anime fandoms, for example, have been big for a while. But with the success of The Untamed, more western fans are investing in stories whose plots, references, characterization and settings are so fundamentally rooted in real Chinese history and living Chinese culture that it’s not really possible to write around it. And yet, inevitably, too many in fandom are trying to do just that, treating respect for Chinese culture or an attempt to understand it as optional extras – because surely, fandom shouldn’t feel like work. If you’re writing something for free, on your own time, for your own pleasure, why should anyone else get to demand that you research the subject matter first?

Because it matters, is the short answer. Because race and culture are not made-up things like lightsabers and werewolves that you can alter, mock or misunderstand without the risk of hurting or marginalizing actual real people – and because, quite frankly, we already know that fandom is capable of drawing lines in the sand where it chooses. When Brony culture first reared its head (hah), the online fandom for My Little Pony – which, like the other fandoms we’re discussing here, is overwhelmingly female – was initially welcoming. It felt like progress, that so many straight men could identify with such a feminine show; a potential sign that maybe, we were finally leaving the era of mainstream hypermasculine fandom bullshit behind, at least in this one arena. And then, in pretty much the blink of an eye, things got overwhelmingly bad. Artists drawing hardcorn porn didn’t tag their works as adult, leading to those images flooding the public search results for a children’s show. Women were edged out of their own spaces. Bronies got aggressive, posting harsh, ugly criticism of artists whose gijinka interpretations of the Mane Six as humans were deemed insufficiently fuckable.

The resulting fandom conflict was deeply unpleasant, but in the end, the verdict was laid down loud and clear: if you cannot comport yourself like a decent fucking person – if your base mode of engagement within a fandom is to coopt it from the original audience and declare it newly cool only because you’re into it now; if you do not, at the very least, attempt to understand and respect the original context so as to engage appropriately (in this case, by acknowledging that the media you’re consuming was foundational to many women who were there before you and is still consumed by minors, and tagging your goddamn porn) – then the rest of fandom will treat you like a social biohazard, and rightly so.

Here’s the thing, fellow white people: when it comes to C-drama fandoms and other non-white, non-western properties? We are the Bronies.

Not, I hasten to add, in terms of toxic fuckery – though if we don’t get our collective shit together, I’m not taking that darkest timeline off the table. What I mean is that, by virtue of the whiteminding which, both consciously and unconsciously, has shaped current fan culture, particularly in terms of ficwriting conventions, we’re collectively acting as though we’re the primary audience for narratives that weren’t actually made with us in mind, being hostile dicks to Chinese and Chinese diaspora fans when they take the time to point out what we’re getting wrong. We’re bristling because we’ve conceived of ficwriting as a place wherein No Criticism Occurs without questioning how this culture, while valuable in some respects, also serves to uphold, excuse and perpetuate microaggresions and other forms of racism, lashing out or falling back on passive aggression when POC, quite understandably, talk about how they’re sick and tired of our bullshit.

An analogy: one of the most helpful and important tags on AO3 is the one for homophobia, not just because it allows readers to brace for or opt out of reading content they might find distressing, but because it lets the reader know that the writer knows what homophobia is, and is employing it deliberately. When this concept is tagged, I – like many others – often feel more able to read about it than I do when it crops up in untagged works of commercial fiction, film or TV, because I don’t have to worry that the author thinks what they’re depicting is okay. I can say definitively, “yes, the author knows this is messed up, but has elected to tell a messed up story, a fact that will be obvious to anyone who reads this,” instead of worrying that someone will see a fucked up story blind and think “oh, I guess that’s fine.” The contextual framing matters, is the point – which is why it’s so jarring and unpleasant on those rare occasions when I do stumble on a fic whose author has legitimately mistaken homophobic microaggressions for cute banter. This is why, in a ficwriting culture that otherwise aggressively dislikes criticism, the request to tag for a certain thing – while still sometimes fraught – is generally permitted: it helps everyone to have a good time and to curate their fan experience appropriately.

But when white and/or western fans fail to educate ourselves about race, culture and the history of other countries and proceed to deploy that ignorance in our writing, we’re not tagging for racism as a thing we’ve explored deliberately; we’re just being ignorant at best and hateful at worst, which means fans of colour don’t know to avoid or brace for the content of those works until they get hit in the face with microaggresions and/or outright racism. Instead, the burden is placed on them to navigate a minefield not of their creation: which fans can be trusted to write respectfully? Who, if they make an error, will listen and apologise if the error is explained? Who, if lived experience, personal translations or cultural insights are shared, can be counted on to acknowledge those contributions rather than taking sole credit? Too often, fans of colour are being made to feel like guests in their own house, while white fans act like a tone-policing HOA.

Point being: fandom and ficwriting cultures as they currently exist badly need to confront the implicit acceptance of racism and cultural bias that underlies a lot of community rules about engagement and criticism, and that needs to start with white and western fans. We don’t want to be the new Bronies, guys. We need to do better.

#race #racism #c-drama #fandom #fan wank #fandom wank #microaggresions #culture #the untamed #bronies #whiteness #ficwriting #fanwriting #cultural bias #discourse

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bratkook · 5 years ago

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rough hands. (m) jjk

pairing : tattooed!jungkook x tattooed!reader (slight fuckboy!jk)

word count : 12k, (i hate myself why cant i ever write anything shorter than 10k goodbye)

genre : (fr)enemies to lovers, smut, this is for @mygukandonly ty for the idea and for sharing my thirst for jungkook lmao also ps. if you read this/enjoy it pls reblog bc tumblrs tags are dead af tysm

warnings : overstimulation, dirty talk (its kinda sweet tho?), playful banter during sex, unprotected sex

summary : how is he meant to confess that he’d tear off his left arm for you if you asked when he can see the way you look at him in disgust when his nervous rambling leads to retelling the raunchy stories of girl’s past

The muffled sound of your roommate and his best friend laughing in the kitchen can be heard through your bedroom wall, a smile spreading across your face when you hear Hoseok’s telltale joyous laugh, no doubt in the middle of telling a story.

You rake your fingers through your hair once more, fluffing it up and stepping back from the mirror to give yourself a once over, your hands tugging down on the tight dress you had on. The black shiny latex hugging your curves in all the right spots and you smirk as excitement fills you when you think of the dumb shit you and your best friend Rina were going to get into tonight.

In the kitchen Hoseok pours another shot for himself and Jungkook, the two of them energized at going out tonight as well, the video game demo they had been working on at work had gotten approved, being given the green light to move further into it so they would be celebrating tonight. The rest of his friends were set to arrive at your shared apartment for some pregame drinks before they left to their designated bar of choice.

“Y/N! Take a shot.” Hoseok shouts out when you step out of the hallway, his head peeking out by the breakfast bar to see you. He’s wearing a simple white tshirt, his colorful tattooed arms on full display as he holds out a shot glass for you to take. As you step closer to grasp it Jungkook’s eyes bulge out at what you’re wearing, he chooses to throw back his shot, letting the burn of tequila take his mind off how hot you looked. Jungkook has had it bad for you for so long, you and Jungkook have ran in the same circle since high school, not exactly friends but there was always a mutual friend linking you two together.

Jeon Jungkook has always been shameless, even at the young age of 16, when his hair was all bangs and the only thing on his mind was bands, shows, and girls. His debauchery only worsened in college when his muscles bulked up and he started experimenting with tattoos, there is nothing horny college girls love more than a man with long black hair and inked sleeves so of course he embraced it.

The social circle you two shared slowly dwindled away after the first year of college as people dropped out, moved out of state or started a career while you finished your schooling. Because of that, you hadn’t really seen or heard much about Jungkook during your last year of college, not sure if he ever finished, dropped out or took a year off. It wasn’t until fate had you responding to a room mate needed ad that lead you to Jung Hoseok and in turn leading you right back to Jeon Jungkook, full circle.

And in that reunion it was made clear that he had stayed exactly the same, the same 16 year old mentality trapped inside a bulked out tattooed man, his new found goal being getting under your skin because he loved seeing you upset.

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s as you grab the shot glass, standing right beside Hoseok as he pours himself yet another shot. He just smirks at you, noticing your added height with the platform shoes you have on, “If you wear those shoes you can get on all the rides at Disney.”

He hides his smile behind the glass, seeing you roll your eyes as you throw back the shot, glaring at him once you swallow it, “Oh shut up, I’m normal sized, it’s not my fault you’re a fucking Titan.”

Hoseok laughs loudly at your comeback, his shoulders nudging Jungkook and seeing him fighting back a smile at your reaction, “Touché.”

The contents of the tequila bottle start to dry out so Hoseok pushes it away, opting for grabbing a cup to start making drinks to pace himself until his friends show up. You have the beginnings of a buzz warming you up, sliding out your phone to see that Rina texted you to come over, wanting to pregame as well before you went out together.

As you start texting her back your ears tune in to the story Jungkook had decided to start telling, reminiscing on the last time they had all gone out to that dive bar. His hands are animated as he tells Hoseok about the drunk girl he had his eyes on, the both of them ending up in the gross bathroom while she gave him a sloppy blowjob, stopping halfway through to puke all over the floor and how it had absolutely wounded his ego. Him and Hoseok are bent over in hysterics as you lock your phone and roll your eyes, like clockwork Jungkook had to start talking about his sexual escapades, “And that’s my cue to fuck off.”

You shove your phone into your tiny side bag as you start to walk away and Jungkook presses his lips together as he realizes once again he said something he shouldn’t have. Hoseok turns to look at you, “You sure you don’t wanna come out with us? It’ll be more fun than that fetish club you’re into.”

You laugh at him, acting as if he didn’t frequent that club as well, “Is Iseul joining you?”

He frowns at the mention of his girlfriend, getting a little sad that she would in fact not be joining him, “No, she’s got an early shift tomorrow so she cant.”

“Sorry but if she’s not there I’m not interested.” You tease with a shrug, throwing your arm up in a wave before leaving your apartment, the door slamming behind you.

Jungkook instantly sulks once you’re gone, mentally slapping himself for always managing to say stupid shit around you. He couldn’t help himself, the small crush he had spawned in high school when you were still the timid girl that wore band tees two sizes too big, and now that you had matured into this, all leather and stockings and tattoos that rivaled his, that crush had bloomed and with it came plenty of wet dreams and fantasies.

He knew he stuck his foot in his mouth every time you two ended up in the same vicinity but his usual confident and cocky self became a nervous fucking wreck around you. His brain chose to either rile you up with mean jokes or let his mouth run on autopilot. Unfortunately the only two topics programmed in consisted of shit regarding his job as an audio engineer for video games or his raunchy one night stands. More often than not it was the latter, talking about vulgar things made you walk away, if he talked about technical shit that you didn’t know about, it left room for questions from you and more of a chance for him to embarrass himself.

He uncaps the tequila bottle again and tips it back, taking a swig from the bottle and accepting that he’d have to live with annoying you from afar.

Its not until you come home that night, absolutely hammered, while hes there that he gets the first glimpse that maybe his dreams aren’t so far fetched. He’s stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, the buzz of the night having left him a while ago, a bowl of cheerios in his hand that he’s currently shoveling into his mouth when you stumble in, tripping over the doors threshold as you giggle and attempt to shut it quietly as to not wake up Hoseok.

Jungkook smirks with a mouthful of cereal as you press your forehead against the door and double over in hushed laughter, no doubt remembering something stupid that happened earlier. “You okay?” He finally speaks up, scaring you, you whip around in shock and slam your back against the door, a small whimper of pain leaving you as you slide down until your butt meets the floor.

“Oh shit.” He sets his bowl down and goes over to make sure you’re okay, your body is slumped on the floor with your legs sprawled out and he forces himself to just stare at your face, a small frown on it now that you realize how drunk you are. But thanks to that, the usual dont touch me attitude you normally have is missing, letting Jungkook scoop you up by the arms. He swallows as his fingers go down to tug the hem of your dress since it had rode up from you sliding down, his fingers lingering slightly on your thigh.

Your head lolls over now that he’s holding you up and away from the wall, a small smile on your face as you stare at him, your finger coming up to gently prod at the bar he has in the center of his lip, seeing them curl up as well because fuck are you drunk.

Your eyes are having trouble focusing on him with the dim light and the two shots you took just as you left the bar finally settling into your system but you make him out just fine, the weird orange glow coming from the kitchen illuminating him enough for you to see him. “You’re really cute in this lighting.” You slur out.

Jungkook just blushes, not knowing how to respond to you because you complimenting him was not the norm. When your brain decides that your head is far too heavy to hold up it drops back, showing him the expanse of your neck and the beautiful peony you have at the side of it, just under your ear, leading up to the spot where your neck meets your collarbone and Jungkook can’t stop himself from thinking of sucking hickeys into the skin there, the purple splotches coloring the blackwork tattoo.

“Wow, you’re sloshed.” He hauls you up, the muscles on his body clearly not being for show as he carries you to your room. He flicks the light on and gently places you on your mattress, hearing you groan in protest but otherwise not moving. His hands start to unbuckle the straps to your shoes, cute leopard print platform heels with the words doll face adorning the toe strap and it was very much you.

They land on your hardwood floor with a loud thud but you don’t register it, your eyes staying shut as you shove your face into your sheets. He opts for leaving you in your dress, shoes were fine but clothing was uncharted territory so he just unfolds the fluffy throw blanket at the edge of your bed and drapes it over you. His hands turn you over until you’re on your side, a stack of pillows at your back so he knows you won’t run the risk of choking on your puke if the situation arises. When he knows you’re no longer at risk of dying he starts to get up, your hands coming to grasp his and it startles him to see your drunk eyes blinking at him softly.

Your lips are moving but he can’t make out what you’re saying so he inches closer, “Huh?”

When hes about a foot away your hands cup his cheeks and bring him in for a quick kiss, the scent of vodka filling his nose as he feels the softness of your lips, “Thank you Jungkookie.” The phrase slurs together in an almost incomprehensible sentence but he hears it as he pulls back, your eyes shutting and your hands dropping and laying limp beside you as you knock out.

Jungkook just stands at the edge of your bed, watching you sleep for a moment before he scurries out to the living room, forgetting about his cereal and collapsing onto the couch to crash, his hands rubbing his eyes almost as if he’s trying to wake himself up from the dream he swears hes in.

His night had been restless, he couldn’t even blame it on sleeping on a couch, he usually did that when he and Hoseok went out and he had to carry his best friend home. No his dreams had consisted of you and that damned latex dress, the small innocent kiss you gave him spurring him on, so he was thankful when he woke up and no longer had to be scared of you walking in on him saying some shit in his sleep.

Hes currently sprawled out on the couch, shirtless with his grey sweats on, one hand tucked behind his head as the other fiddled with his phone, scrolling through instagram and shamelessly rewatching your story for the millionth time. He just couldn’t stop replaying a video of you speaking into the camera, very drunk with a massive smile as you tried to get your friend who was in the background to face the camera, erupting into a laugh that made him smile along.

His finger presses down on his screen, pausing the video as his ears pick up the sound of a bedroom door opening, either Hoseok was up or you were. He wasn’t sure who he was hoping for but when he sees his friend walk out of his room with bedhead he wishes it was you.

Hoseok smacks his lips together a few times, his squinty eyes looking at Jungkook as he smiles, “How’d those jäger shots treat you?”

Jungkook laughs as he recalls Hoseok egging everyone on to take more of them, sitting up and ruffling his wavy hair, “I can still bounce back as quick as I did when I was 16.”

Hoseok just groans, his palm rubbing his forehead, “Wait until you hit 26.” He waddled into the kitchen and begins rummaging around, the sound of pills shaking in a container being a telltale sign that Hoseok desperately needed advil.

“Hungry?” He calls out and Jungkook hums in response, he was very hungry, he hadn’t wanted to get up and make himself food since last time he did he had mistakenly used up the last of your oat milk and you had been furious, tossing the empty carton at his head when you had tried to make yourself a bowl of cereal. “You cool with pancakes?”

“Dude you could give me a still frozen eggo waffle and I’d be grateful.”

Hoseok laughs loudly at his statement, pots and pans clanking together as he sets up and Jungkook winces, your bedroom shared a wall with the kitchen so it was only a matter of time until the noise woke you up.

It takes roughly 15 minutes of Hoseok chatting and the noise of the mixer to stir you from your sleep. Your mouth is dry and your eyes are pulsing from your headache when you fully awake, pushing yourself up from your bed you’re confused as to how you even got into it. The black dress you wore dug into your skin, the straps leaving deep imprints in your shoulders from the way you slept.

“What the hell.” You moan out, rolling your neck and staring down at the mountain of pillows that were laid out in a specific shape. Had Hoseok hauled your ass to bed last night?

The muffled sounds of chatter start back up, the smell of pancakes slipping under the crack in your door and you grin, hoping Hoseok had added chocolate chips into the mix.

Pancakes were a necessity right now, your stomach felt hollow and from past experiences if you waited too long to eat after drinking all night your hangover would last way longer, so you stand up, your sore feet aching as you shuffle to your drawers and pull out comfortable clothes.

When your door creaks open Jungkook stops talking, his fork staying impaled in the pancakes as the sound of your feet padding on the hardwood floor gets closer. Hes sat on the tall barstool facing the breakfast bar, Hoseok stood on the other side of it, both of them in the middle of eating when you finally show yourself.

Your eyes zero in on Jungkook and you frown, hes sitting shirtless, half of his back and side facing you, letting you see the swirls of black ink that cover the majority of his body. Your eyes follow the dragon that starts on his shoulder, tracing the head all the way down as its body curves and twists until the tail peaks away under the hem of his sweats, but you can’t drool over him, no matter how delicious he looked so you opt for being a brat.

“Don’t you have a home?”

Hoseok chokes on his laughter, seeing Jungkooks cheeks redden as he stares back at his plate. Did you not remember planting one on him last night? You were very drunk but c’mon, could the universe throw him a bone for once.

“Here, your stacks are over there, chocolate chips and all.” Hoseok flicks behind him, your gaze following and seeing the plate of pancakes with your name written all over it. The smile you have contrasts deeply with the look you had just given Jungkook, you were a sucker for chocolate chip pancakes.

You walk into the kitchen space and fix yourself up a plate, scooping out some of the leftover eggs in the pan and choosing to stand next to Hobi instead of sitting beside Jungkook. You’re both crammed on the small counter space beside the sink, the two of you had never gotten around to buying a dining table and always suffered the consequences so you always managed.

You lift up the plate to your nose and inhale, sighing in appreciation, “Hoseok, Iseul is one lucky lady. Why hasn’t she put a ring on it yet?” You tease, setting the plate down and grabbing the syrup bottle to drown your pancakes in the sticky goodness.

Jungkook is blatantly staring at your plate in disgust, his eyes looking between his plate and your own, your pancakes covered in the thick syrup, the excess dripping off and pooling into your eggs.

“Jesus what.” You snap, setting the bottle down rather aggressively, sending him daggers as his face scrunches up at your food.

“Thats fucking disgusting.”

“You like your pancakes bone dry, I don’t fucking judge you so don’t judge me. We’ll see who’s laughing when you’re choking on your dry ass food.”

Hoseok just stands there as he eats his eggs, a stupid smirk on his face as you banter like children. It’s always entertaining for him, he wishes he could record every interaction because you and Jungkook were the same person, the same sick sense of humor and quick drags made for some interesting comebacks.

He can see Jungkook getting increasingly flustered as you both continue shooting insults at each other about breakfast food, the dreaded oat milk fiasco being brought up and when you point your fork at Jungkook threateningly thats when Hoseok steps in as referee. “Alright, alright children enough!”

He raises his arms up, silencing you both and forcing you to drop your makeshift weapon, “Jungkook, you know the oat milk scandal is a sensitive subject so minus 10 points for bringing it up.” Jungkook glares when you poke your tongue out at him, “And Y/N, Jungkooks right, you drowning your shit in syrup is disgusting so minus 15 points for that.” And now Jungkook is grinning at you mockingly, enjoying the shock on your face as you look at Hoseok, calling him a traitor and picking up your plate to go eat in your room since no one fucking appreciates me in this stupid house!

When your door slams shut Jungkook chuckles, his tongue prodding at his cheek as he shakes his head and resumes eating his breakfast. Hoseok holds his coffee cup next to his lip as he stares at his friend, “You two fight like a married couple.”

Jungkook’s reaction is immediate, scoffing and rolling his eyes, “She’s just annoying.”

Hoseok hums, nodding along like he believes Jungkook, “Ah, so are we both still pretending you don’t have it bad for her?”

That gets a real reaction from the younger boy, his eyes darting to the wall that you share with the kitchen before glaring back at his friend, “Dude!” He whines, his shoulders sagging, “Do you want her to hear you?” Hoseok just cackles, grabbing his dishes and placing them in the sink to start washing them. Jungkook just continues grumbling to himself, his fork clanking against the plate as he stabs his pancakes aggressively.

“Give yourself some credit Kook, she doesn’t hate you like you think she does.” Jungkook found that hard to believe, your morning greeting of accusing him of being homeless due to him always being at your place showed him how you really felt, but last night was the first time he had felt like maybe deep down you thought he was cute enough to kiss.

“Last night,” he starts off, setting his fork down, “she came home at like 4am totally wasted, I don’t even know how she managed to climb the stairs up to the front door. I carried her to bed and she uh, she kissed me.” He whispers the last part, his eyes glancing at the shared wall again, praying you were listening to music and not hearing this conversation.

Hoseok shuts off the faucet, whipping around with wide eyes, “Huh? Like coherently kissed you with tongue down your throat or like drunk peck kissed you?”

“The second one.”

The expression on Hoseoks face doesn’t comfort Jungkook, he’s pouting in sympathy, “I mean, she kisses Iseul with tongue and everything-”

“Okay but-wait what?” Jungkook stops himself from interrupting further, his interested piqued in hearing about you and Hoseok’s girlfriend making out. It was a regular occurrence, if you both got drunk enough the compliments began and before Hoseok knew it you and his girlfriend were swapping spit and then acting like nothing happened as you entered the dance floor.

His friend rolls his eyes at the look Jungkook throws at him, “Yeah, I think Iseul loves her more than me.”

“Okay well tell her to get in fucking line.” Jungkook jokes, “But no, she kissed me last night and considering she doesn’t like me within her bubble it has to mean something right?”

Hoseok pats his hands dry as he approaches the breakfast bar again, Jungkook looks unsure, his teeth nibbling on his lip piercing as he stares at him. The conversation had switched over drastically from Jungkook pretending he wouldn’t lay his body across a puddle of water for you to cross, now he looked like a nervous teenager that didn’t want to get rejected by his crush.

“I don’t know dude, you’re gonna have to say something to find out.”

Hoseok knew more than he would ever tell Jungkook, you had openly confessed to wanting to climb him like a tree only if he wore a muzzle a few months back so Hoseok knew Jungkook had a chance at least. The only issue was he wasn’t sure just sleeping with you would be enough for his friend, the crush he had been harboring was too strong for a one night stand and he wasn’t convinced you’d want the same so Hoseok kept his mouth shut, letting you two figure it out.

He tried his best to make it so you two would be around each other, always inviting Jungkook over or inviting you out with them but Jungkook never did himself any favors, he needed you guys to hang out in a different environment that didn’t require loud music and other girls so when his girlfriend suggests taking a weekend trip to her family’s lake cabin he doesn’t think twice before inviting you to join.

The weather lately had been miserable, the highs skyrocketing into the 100s so you didn’t hesitate to say yes, on the condition that you could bring your best friend with you just in case the rest of Hoseoks friends were just as immature as Jungkook was.

When the day comes you and your friend have to leave a few hours after the rest of the group does, having to wait for Rina to get off her short morning shift before you embark on the 2 hour drive. So walking into the cabin you’re met with some unfamiliar faces staring back at you from their place on the couch. You give a wave, spotting Iseul on a lounger, she smiles widely and hops up, bounding over to you and wrapping you in a hug.

“Yay, you made it!” She pulls back and greets Rina, standing beside you both and gesturing to the full room. “Guys this is Y/N and Rina.” They all wave back as she starts to introduce them in order, Jimin had red hair and a nose ring, Yoongi had grey hair and a rose tattoo on his hand, The last one to be introduced is Taehyung, brown hair and a wide smile, giving you and your friend a wave. Jungkook and Hoseok give you a wave as well, no introductions needed for them.

Due to your late arrival all the rooms have already been decided on, Jimin and Yoongi lucking out with securing the master suite but you and Rina had no complaints, grateful to have even been invited.

Now that introductions were out of the way and everyone was here Hoseok announces that hes gonna start up the grill outside to make some food. Everyone gets up to start assisting but you and Rina head back out to haul your bags in along with the alcohol and groceries you bought.

The weather is humid and gross, your skin tacky with sweat so you’re wearing the least amount of clothing you can. Already in a stringy gray bikini, a loose cut up tank top and the shortest shorts Jungkook has ever seen on you. Your tattoos on full display, the florals that cover your entire left arm, reaching your shoulder, he follows them up and over his eyes glued to the bold lines on your back that peek out when your shirt moves.

When you bend over to set down the box of drinks he stares at your ass, trailing down the soft skin of your thighs that were bare compared to the rest of your body. Tae elbows him harshly, “So thats Y/N I’m assuming?”

Jungkook grunts in response, swallowing when he sees you pull your hair up, exposing your neck and that tattoo he desperately wants to mark up, “You ever gonna make a move?”

“I don’t have the balls.”

Tae hums, “Great, well I do so see ya.” He slaps his arm and Jungkook thinks hes joking until Taehyung actually makes his way over to you, offering to help carry your bag to your room upstairs. The grateful smile you give him makes Jungkooks face twitch, you only ever smiled at him like that when you were wasted

Taehyung wasn’t actually going to hit on you, he wasn’t a cruel friend. He was just going to flirt harmlessly, give Jungkook a reason to fucking make a move. Rina is all giggles as she watches you follow Tae up the stairs, pointing towards the room you had been assigned.

As he walks in front of you, making friendly conversation you take the time to stare at him. It seems all of Jung Hoseoks friends were fucking god sent, Tae’s fluffy brown hair and kind eyes were easy to warm up to, his style more toned down than Jungkooks, only a few minimal tattoos scattered on his arms.

He sets your bag down on the bed and turns to you with his hands on his hips, “Thank you.” You mutter out, walking over to the window and shutting the blinds slightly to stop the sun from beating into the room and warming it up further.

“Yeah no problem, have you ever been here before?” He asks, making himself comfy on your bed.

“No, never. Super glad to finally have a friend who can say they have a lake house though.”

He agrees whole heartedly, the both of you making your way back out of the room and into the dining room to try to see what you could help out with.

It only takes less than a hour for everyone to gather around the table, munching on their hamburgers and hotdogs as you listen to Hoseok, Yoongi and Iseul talking about the summers they used to spend here during high school, all of them having grown up together.

“You two went to high school together also right?” Iseul speaks up when the laughter dies down, her fingers pointing between you and Jungkook. She smirks to herself when she sees the look on Jungkook’s face, swatting Hoseoks hand away from her side as he tries to pinch her for putting the two of you on the spot, he knows what shes up to.

“Oh, yeah we did.” You sigh, shaking your head as you think back to high school and all the cringeworthy things that happened. “Had a lot of mutual friends but uh, we didn’t have lake house summer hangouts like you guys did. The closest we got was backyard house shows during the summer that reeked of B.O.”

Jungkook lets out a laugh, nodding along as he remembers the shows your group would end up at. The group you had was a pretty huge on, all of the kids in your grade that liked the same music tended to bunch together and do things as a herd so even though you technically went to shows together it wasn’t one on one.

“Wait, do you remember that show the summer after high school where I dove off the stage–“

“Your dumbass always did that.”

He waves you off, determined to tell the story he sort of remembered, “I know, but this time all I remember was jumping off and then waking up with everyone huddled around me trying to call an ambulance.”

Your eyes widen as you recall the exact day he was talking about, it was a typical backyard show with too many underaged kids getting drunk off beer. Everything was set up like it normally was, a makeshift stage and amps against the brick wall with a small crowd huddled around it. The only difference was this house had a pool, an empty one, and although everyone had been cautioned to stay away, once people got hammered nothing mattered.

The crowd surrounding the stage was teetering close to the edge of the pool so you and your friend at the time chose to watch from the sidelines, and thats when a very drunk 17 year old Jungkook hopped onto the stage, wobbling onto the top of the drum kit and catapulting himself into the crowd. They had managed to catch him and started crowd surfing him back, right into the empty pool. Jungkook had been tossed into the deep end, head first and you had seen it all happen.

“There was so much fucking blood.” You shiver as you recall the group of you running into the pool to make sure he was alive. He had managed to bust his head open and as you saw him with blood dripping down his head you realized then that you really didn’t dislike him as much as you claimed you did because you really didn’t want him to die.

Jungkook throws his head back and laughs loudly, morbidly recalling how his friends had told him to go to the hospital in fear that he had a concussion or needed stitches and even though he said he was fine he was lowkey scared to sleep that night and not wake up the morning after.

Everyone laughs along, enjoying the way Jungkook turns a traumatic story into casual conversation. When Jimin asks what he did after he gained consciousness Jungkook just smirks as he drinks the last of his beer before shrugging, “I drank some more and got back into the crowd.”

You just cover your face in second hand embarrassment at the memory, a few laughs slipping out because yeah it had been slightly traumatic but also kinda funny.

“Have you changed much since high school?” You lift your head and see Taehyung had addressed his question to you and Jungkook chuckles under his breath, remembering your quiet demeanor.

It wasn’t until college that you came out of your shell, gaining confidence and experimenting with your fashion and hair colors, the tattoos covering your body increasing quickly. But Jungkook could say your personality has stayed the same, sure you were no longer timid, quick to bite back now but the personality he had found himself latching onto had stayed the same. Even when you two distanced yourselves he always thought of you, he liked to think it was fate that had you and him both knowing Hoseok.

“Definitely, for the better though.” Jungkook eyes his friend like a hawk, the small smirk on his face as he stares at you from across the table, making eye contact for a second before looking back at you. Jungkook sees the way you lean on the table, your cheeks tinting when you see the way he stares at you.

“I’d love to see photos, ya know, to compare.” The laugh you let out has Jungkook sulking. Taehyung was charming, all the girls flocking to him and usually Jungkook was the same but he turned into a jackass around you.

Hoseok sees his sulking friend and claps his hands to get everyones attention, “Alright I’m sure we’re all still sober enough to not fucking drown, lets go swim. I’m melting.”

Rina heads to the room to change since she was still in her work uniform so you wait for her on the back deck, resting on the porch rail and watching as they haul over fold out chairs and floaties to the water.

If you thought Hoseoks friends were hot fully clothed seeing them all taking their shirts off left you speechless, you stand with a wine cooler in your hand as one by one they start undressing. The only ones missing were Tae and Jungkook, both of them having been put on clean up duty.

“I wish this was a brazzers video and I was getting railed by all of them.” Your friend sighs as she pops up beside you and you just nod along, the two of you wiggling your eyebrows at each other.

“You coming?” Taehyung speaks up behind you, smiling to himself from having heard your friends statement and you two jump, your friend scattering away and saving herself from further embarrassment, she had her eyes set on Yoongi so thats who she was currently warming up to.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, taking in his shirtless body, his toned chest out in the sun like the golden god he was and then out comes Jungkook, his long black hair pushed off his face, fully shirtless in black swim trunks. As he stands next to Taehyung your mouth waters at the sight of both of them, Taehyung’s shoulders were wider than Jungkooks but the black and grey art work spanned across both of his arms and chest, leading to his back is definitely your type.

He catches you staring and smiles to himself, making a show of stretching his arm out to wrap around Taehyungs shoulders, shaking up his body, “Race you in?”

When he looks at you too you gulp down the last bit of your drink, setting down the bottle and slipping out of your clothes, not giving them a second glance as you scream out “Go!” and take off.

The dirt you run on slightly burns your feet and when you hear Jungkook and Taehyung catching up you scream, urging your legs to pick up the pace.

“Loser has to skinny dip!” Taehyung adds on to the rules, enjoying the annoyed look Jungkook sends his way, he knew what Taehyung was doing so he lurches forward until he’s right behind you.

You scream again when large tattooed arms wrap around you and haul you up and over their shoulder in a flash. You register that it’s Jungkook when you peak up and see Taehyung struggling to keep up, how Jungkook was able to carry you while also beating him had him baffled.

Jungkook would be damned if you had to strip in front of his friend so he feels no remorse, a smile stretching across his face when he hears you laughing, his hands are wrapped around your thighs just below your butt and he’s tempted to smack it but the cold water of the lake splashing onto his legs snaps him out of it.

“Fuck!” You screech as Jungkook enters the lake, the freezing water shocking you and he laughs again, sliding you off his shoulder to stand up on the lake bed.

“I didn’t expect it to be that cold.” He shivers next to you, dunking his head into the water before popping back up, his labret piercing glimmering in the sun.

Taehyung makes a show of splashing his way in, the water spraying everywhere and it has you shielding your face with a laugh, “Fucking cheater, is this your plan to see me naked Jungkookie?”

Jungkook smacks the water, the droplets spraying across Taehyungs face but he embraces it, laying back to float on the water with a smile, “No one said anything about getting naked until you spoke up, just say you wanna show off your monster cock and go.” He jokes, hearing Taehyung explode into laughter, choking slightly on the water as his head slips under from laughing.

You roll your eyes at the topic of dicks, “I don’t have a monster cock, unless you’re into that.” Taehyung teases you, trying to get further under Jungkook’s skin

“I could be.” You play along, it was now Jungkooks turn to roll his eyes, sinking further into the water until only his eyes were visible, could he drown himself here? He’s pretty sure you wouldn’t even notice if he didn’t come back up for air considering your eyes were glued to his friend. Jungkook was going to fucking strangle Hoseok for inviting him.

His eyes drift over to the right, seeing Hoseok, Iseul, Yoongi & Rina taking turns jumping off of it while Jimin floats on a flamingo floatie a few feet away. He starts to paddle his way over, not hearing any protest from you or his friend just reassures him that he made the right choice.

When Taehyung deems Jungkook is far enough he calls you closer, “Wanna know a secret?” That piques your interest, inching towards him with a curious face, “What if I told you I know someone who has a massive heart on for you.”

“Heart on?”

He laughs again, raking his hair off his face and nodding at you, “Yeah heart on, like a boner but for your heart.”

Note to self, yes all of Jung Hoseoks friends were just as immature as Jungkook was.

“I would tell you that I hope the person you say isn’t secretly married with kids.”

He floats onto his back again, his arms lazily paddling him to circle around you, “Oh no, our Jungkookie is definitely single.” He brings one hand up to cover his mouth, pretending to have slipped up.

“So what you’re saying is you don’t wanna fuck me?”

Your response is not one he expects but the way he bursts into laughter makes you smile, you had caught on to Taehyung’s antics, noting how he was friendly when you two were alone and only amped his flirting when Jungkook was present. You weren’t sure why he was using you to irritate Jungkook but if what he said was true it surprised you.

His loud laugh draws everyones attention and he rights himself up as to not choke on water again, “Like a brazzers video was it?” He teases, “He told me about your little smooch a few weeks ago.”

“Im sorry our little what?”

He wipes the water off his face, “Yeah, you came home drunk as fuck and he took you to bed and your predator ass planted one on him, with no consent. Shame on you.”

You splash water onto him, Jungkook sees it from his spot on the pier, a scowl on his face at seeing you acting playful with his friend, blissfully unaware that he was the topic of your discussion.

“Can you please grow a pair and tell her you love her.” Iseul moans out when she sees the look on the youngests face.

“Wait what?” Your friend asks and Jungkook turns around to give Iseul and Hoseok an exasperated look, “Seriously?”

Iseul just shrugs from her spot sat on the wood, not giving a damn about outing his crush in front of your friend and Hoseok just smiles, his foot planting on the center of Iseuls back and giving her a shove until she screams as she gets pushed into the water, beer bottle and all. He gives Jungkook a highfive until Iseul pops back up, her eyes full of rage as she holds up her ruined drink, “Jung Hoseok what the fuck!”

“Sorry babe, you kinda deserved it.”

Rina nudges Jungkook with her knee, her face making it very clear that Jungkook needs to fess up before she very loudly called you over. He sighs and hauls himself up until he’s standing and even though he’s towering over her Rinas face doesn’t soften, “Stop staring at me like that.” He grunts, “I just have a crush on her, its not like I confessed to something despicable.”

She crosses her hands over her chest as she stares at you and Taehyung still talking in the water and she can tell you’re not into him, you were both playful but she knew you very well, your flirting tactics not coming out to play with Taehyung but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice this. She also knew that you’d secretly bend over for Jungkook if he ever asked but he didn’t have to know that right now, “Well you better say something cause it looks like your buddys making more progress in one day than you have the entire time you’ve known her.”

He groans in annoyance again, flicking water droplets at her face and deciding he was over this conversation, walking back to the cabin, not caring that he was dripping water everywhere.

You see him stalking away looking pissed off and Taehyung smirks, after coming to terms with the fact that you had in fact kissed Jeon Jungkook it only took a few more minutes of talking for you to also start confessing to not exactly being opposed to sleeping with him as well. Taehyung nudges your shoulder, “I swear to god if you don’t follow him I will be offended. No ones telling you to bang him, just talk because he swears you hate him.”

When you turn to glare at him he spits water at you until you’re relenting, “Fine, but if this is some sick prank I’ll shove my foot up your ass.”

“Ooh kinky.” He winks at you, laughing and beginning to paddle away when you turn and start wading out of the water. The sun beats on your back as you step out of the cold water, and you’re tempted to just go back and act like your conversation with Taehyung never happened but you’re curious now.

When you reach the back porch you hose yourself down, getting rid of any of the mud you trudged over before patting yourself dry with the towel you laid over the porch railing.

From the pier Iseul is pulling herself back up, announcing that she was about to go inside but Hoseok grabs her, all of them noticing you following Jungkook, “Fuck no, Y/N and Jungkook are the only ones in the house.”

She lets Hoseok keep his arms wrapped around her and smiles, crediting herself for being the one to push you two together and Hoseok groans, attempting to push her back into the water but she latches onto him, making them both tumble in with a splash.

You shut out their screams when you step into the house and close the sliding door, entering the kitchen and spotting Jungkook stood against the island, one of your wine coolers held against his lips. When he sees you staring at it he pulls it away quickly, “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before grabbing one.” The last thing he needed was another oat milk fiasco.

You just shrug as you approach the island, resting your body against the granite across from him, “Nah, help yourself. Whats got your panties in a bunch?”

He sets the bottle down softly as he watches you, your hands clasped together, stretched out in front of you as you bent over the counter innocently. His teeth tug at the bar in the center of his lip, his inky strands covering his eyes but you can see his gaze peeking through, “Did I ever do anything to you for you to dislike me this much?”

You straighten up at his question, a frown tugging at your lips, you didn’t dislike him, you found him immature and he liked to push your buttons on purpose but you knew he was harmless. Obviously Jungkook didn’t know this considering Taehyung had just told you he thinks you hate him. “What, Jungkook I don’t dislike you?”

He scoffs, taking a swig of his drink with his brows raised, not believing you in the slightest, “Then why are you so mean to me when ever I’m around you.”

“Because you’re mean to me! You always say shit to get under my skin.”

Jungkook laughs at that, pushing his hair back and tossing the empty bottle into the paper bag set up on the counter, “Yeah because you’re easy to annoy.”

Your arms stretch out at his statement, “And so are you, you don’t see me moping like a baby. Besides I didn’t do anything to you out there so don’t try to pin your bad attitude on me today.”

He opens the fridge again, pulling out a water bottle instead before turning back around and staring at you, “Really, you didn’t do anything?”

You glare right back at him, walking around to meet him and snatch the water bottle out of his hands, call it even for him taking one of your wine coolers. “Please enlighten me on how I managed to ruin your day by not saying a word to you.”

Between you two running into the lake until he paddled away the only exchange you had was a curse word & Jungkook acknowledging the freezing water, where could you have possibly pissed him off.

He chooses on foregoing grabbing another water, his hands crossing over his chest, the muscles bulging out at the action but you force yourself to look away, “You objectifying my friend and talking about his monster cock isn’t you doing anything?”

You freeze from drinking the water, your cheeks ballooning out as you keep it in your mouth because what the fuck. Objectifying? You swallow the liquid, full on laughing now, theres no way he’s being serious. “You were the one that brought up his dick, are you dense?”

Okay, you had him there but he wasn’t going to admit defeat that easy, “Sure and you kept it going.”

You laugh louder at that, twisting the cap back onto the water bottle and tossing it at his chest lightly, smirking when you see him scramble to catch it, “The amount of times I’ve had to hear unwarranted stories about your dick in or around someone is fine but me joking with Taehyung is crossing a line?”

Jungkook presses his lips together, his mind repeating what everyone has been telling him all day. Tell her you jackass. “Yes because it fucking sucks hearing that shit from you.” He bites his tongue, stopping himself from blurting out the most important part, but his statement is enough to get you to believe what Taehyung had said earlier. Did Jungkook actually have a heart on for you?

“Why, are you jealous?”

“Yes.” He admits almost immediately, his response catching you both off guard, but the smirk on your face only gets bigger. Jungkook is wary of your reaction, not exactly fond of the way you look like you just caught your prey. When you reach out, your fingers gently touching his shoulders his wariness only deepens.

“Why would you be jealous about me wanting to fuck your friend?” Jungkook says nothing, your fingers continuing to trail up and down his shoulders softly and he likes the feeling of you touching him, wanting to lean into your touch but he’s not sure if you’re fucking with him or not. “Who knew all it would take was one kiss for Jeon Jungkook to get possessive.”

He blanches at your sentence, “Wait you remember?”

“Of course I do,” you lie, not wanting to tell him that Taehyung had been the one to remind you. You wanted to see how far you could push him until he admitted to something. The typical Jungkook you were used to was the one who went to bars and clubs and managed to score a handful of girls numbers before taking one home, the countless stories you’ve heard being proof of that. The Jungkook stood in front of you did not live up to the reputation you had seen.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I mean you were wasted so I just didn’t think you’d remember...” he trails off, unconsciously stepping back until hes pressed against the fridge.

“You wanna refresh my memory?” You’re half teasing him, half serious, enjoying seeing Jungkook looking like he’s about to explode.

He doesn’t get a chance to respond, the sound of the sliding door making you take a big step back before looking over. Jimin had his head peeking through the opening, a small grimace on his face as he realizes he interrupted something, “Sorry, we’re gonna go tubing if you guys wanna join.”

Jungkook hopes you say no because he can’t find the balls to speak up but you nod instead, turning to face Jungkook again, “Maybe later then.” Is all you say before turning around and following Jimin back out to the lake.

He watches you leave, bending over the island and groaning into the granite, where had that come from and why was he kinda into the way you spoke to him? Jungkook stands back up, taking a gulp of his water and following after you and Jimin.

Even when you’re all gathered on the boat, Rina being dragged in a giant circle tube beside Yoongi the both of them screaming, he can’t get your conversation out of him mind. His eyes focused in on seeing you laughing hysterically as you record your friend, a smile spreading across his face because your laugh is contagious.

When you hop onto the tube next, dragging Taehyung with you to further egg Jungkook on, Jimin slides over beside Jungkook and sighs, “Sorry about barging in earlier.” Jungkook just shakes his head, telling him not to worry about it, he didn’t mind it. Your words had spurred him on and all he wanted to do now was rip off that lifejacket you wore and take you in front of his friends but he knew no one would appreciate it.

Later in the night everyone gathers inside and does their own thing, a few people playing board games while you retreat into your room, feeling sluggish from the water and sun so you sleep through the dinner everyone eats.

When you finally emerge from the room, your hair damp from your shower you find the living room dimly lit and empty, the clock above the stove letting you know it was 9 at night. There was two plates left out on the counter, wrapped in foil and you knew it was meant for you. As you near it you see the scrap of paper next to it, Iseul’s handwriting standing out.

Left on a hike to go stargazing, text us when its clear to come back.

You frown at the message, what did she mean by that?

Regardless you peel back the foil and smile at the food she had left for you, popping it into the microwave and picking yourself up to hop onto the counter as you wait.

When you slip your phone out and start to scroll through your socials the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs scares you, your eyes flicking up and seeing Jungkook trudging down, a baggy crew neck on him and his face looking flushed from the sun hitting it.

“You didn’t go on the hike?” You ask as he approaches you slowly, his face looks sleepy and you can tell he also took a nap from the way his eyes blink at you lazily.

“Hike?” He rasps out, his hand ruffling up his already messy hair, a small frown on his face from the foggy feeling he still had from just waking up.

“Yeah,” you hum, pulling out your plate and starting to eat it on the counter, “they left on a hike or something. Theres a plate there if you haven’t already eaten.”

He looks at where you’re pointing and he smiles when he sees it, his eyes also spotting the note left and skimming it. His friends were such instigators.

He lingers behind you, torn between eating or doing something to you. You’re hunched over the counter, your legs rocking you against it as you happily much on some of the roasted potatoes. His eyes lingered on your legs, your skin still exposed in a loose pair of cotton shorts, a baggy tshirt hanging off your shoulder and letting him see the tattoo of a bee hovering over a sunflower.

You can feel him stood behind you and you freeze, looking over your shoulder at him with your brows raised, “Why are you standing like that?”

He shakes his head, relaxing the stiff way he stood and leaning against the counter instead, flicking his hair out of his face as you keep staring at him. “Just thinking about what you said earlier.”

You pop a piece of chicken in your mouth as you hum, “What did I say?” pretending to act confused, a smirk curling up on your lip when you see the deadpan look he give you as he pushes off the counter.

The nervous Jungkook from earlier is gone, the shock from you egging him on earlier had passed and it just solidified that he wanted to have you. “About me refreshing your memory of our little rendezvous.”

You laugh at his term, setting your fork down to fully turn to him, “Do you want me to kiss you again?”

He smirks at you, now standing a foot away from you, your back pressed against the counter as you craned your head up to stare at him, “Among other things.”

“Other things?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, his hand reaching out to cup under your chin gently, “I’d like to bend you over this counter and fuck you until you’re crying. If you’re into that.” He smiles at the small gasp you let out, your eyes gleaming with desire at his words. You had thought you had the one up on him earlier but his change was a welcomed one, you wanted to experience the Jungkook you had heard about, rough and cocky.

You rest back onto your elbows as you stare at him, letting his thumb rub under your lip, “Oh really? Are you all talk?”

Jungkook scoffs, dropping his hands to cage you between him and the counter, his head dropping down a bit until your noses nudged together. “No, I always deliver.”

You don’t get a chance to respond, his head tilting slightly until your lips are together, the cold bar of his piercing pressing against you. Jungkook feels you relax into the kiss, glad that you weren’t pushing him away like he always swore you would. When he tests the water, gently licking his way into your mouth you groan, your hands coming up to clutch onto his sweater to tug him closer until his leg is between yours.

Kissing Jungkook felt natural, maybe it was the pent of sexual frustration you two had apparently had with one another but you just wanted to get to it. You drop one hand to trail down his thigh, palming his growing erection through his sweats.

He groans, pulling back from the kiss to rest his forehead against your, his soft breaths hitting your face as you continue to stroke him. “Feel that?” He hums softly, “Just wanna fuck you.”

You laugh gently, kissing his neck and feeling him roll his hips into your grasp, “How are you supposed to make me cry when you’re this needy?” Your teeth nip his skin, his hips stuttering when you do.

Jungkook just chuckles, the sound continuing when he trails his own hand down until hes dipping into waistband of your shorts, his fingers coming into contact with the wet spot on your underwear, “Keep it up.” He warns, “I’ll remember that in a bit.”

Your hands tighten their hold on him when he pushes your underwear aside to touch you directly, his fingers teasing your skin softly until he’s rolling your clit in a tantalizing manner. When you drop your head back and glare at him he just smiles, “Who’s needy now?”

“Still not crying.” You bite back.

Jungkook looks at you with his brows raised, new set determination on his face as he nods, stepping back from you and hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and underwear, tugging them down your legs in a flash.

The cool air inside hits your wet folds and you gasp, kicking your discarded clothing aside on the floor and letting him drop to his knees in front of you. His long hair falls in front of his eyes, his hands grasping the top of your thighs to slide your legs apart with a grin.

He can see you wanting to speak up so he beats you to the punch, his nose nudging into your clit as he teasingly dips his tongue in between your folds to lick a broad stripe up. You let out a shuddered laugh, your hands reaching down to tangle in his head when he spreads you open with his fingers and starts to eat you out like a man starved.

Your eyes shut, your head falling back at a particular hard suck he gives your clit, his tongue going back to circle around your entrance to lap up your wetness. He groans at the taste of you, your hands tugging at his hair when he falls into a rhythm that has you quivering.

He slips two fingers into you, the feeling of your walls clamping down on him making him moan in anticipation of how you would feel around his cock.

Just like Jungkook is in every aspect of his life, he’s shameless in the way he pleasures you, the sounds of him slurping against you in combination with his fingers thrusting into you has you hurdling towards the edge faster than you’d like to admit.

You rest your weight on your elbow behind you, feeling your legs start to tremble and Jungkook notices, his arm wrapping around your thigh to help stabilize you. He can’t even get himself to gloat at having you fall apart this quickly, instead he enjoys you rolling your hips into his face, tugging his hair hard, your inner walls spasming as you reach your climax.

“Oh fuck.” You moan out, squeezing your eyes shut as your whole body is lit up, Jungkooks tongue continuing to flick your clit as you cum, his fingers slowing down slightly as you come down.

He can hear you breathing harshly, your fingers gently raking through his hair while he gives your pussy one last kiss before hes standing back up. His mouth and chin are covered in your arousal, his hand tugs up his shirt to wipe at his face, peeling it off his body and tossing it carelessly onto the floor.

“You’re not crying but its a start.” He mumbles out, his eyes trailing over your face as you stare at him fucked out. His talk was true, the small tidbits you’ve heard of him being able to make girls cum in record time hadn’t been a lie to boost his ego.

You look between you both, seeing his cock tenting in his sweats and you smile as you reach your hand into them, wrapping around his heavy length. He sees how your eyes widen at his size, you can tell he’s big and you haven’t even properly seen it yet.

When you tug them off you marvel at his size, big dicks would forever be your weakness and of course he’d have one. “I really wanna suck your dick,” you start, a small smile creeping up on your face as you give his cock a small pump, “but I’m not trying to barf my dinner up on the floor. Can’t have two girls puking over your dick in your lifetime right?” You knew his dick would make you choke and if you hadn’t just eaten you wouldn’t care, but barfing was definitely not a kink of yours.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, a laugh escaping his lips, “You’re the worst.” He shuts his eyes as you both start to chuckle. Jungkook doesn’t care, he was trying to make you cry, he didn’t need to have his dick sucked to do that.

“Its not just my height thats Titan size huh.” He jokes, laughing harder when you release his dick and groan, your faux annoyance being shown when you let him slide your shirt off of you, his hands coming up to cup your exposed breasts.

“No, I am not calling your dick Titan sized.”

“Oh no?” He asks, stepping closer until his length is pressed between your folds, a slow thrust starting that has you groaning, “This Titan dick can make you feel real good though.” He can barely utter out the sentence until he’s laughing again, burying his head into your neck at how stupid he sounded.

“You’re insufferable, I swear if you have an attack on titan fantasy I am walking away.” He lets out a playful whine, his mouth latching onto that tattoo he always wanted to kiss, his tongue softly licking at the skin as he sucks it, pulling back and humming when he sees the purple splotch in between the petals of the peony.

“I’m not that big of a weeb, can still make you feel good tho.” He mutters giving your lips another kiss, feeling you smile against him, your hands pushing him back by the chest.

You turn around, bending over the counter and shaking your hips slightly, “Show me.”

He bites his lip, his eyes staring at the slick coating your pussy, trailing down your thighs and he feels his dick twitch, not needing to be told twice. Jungkook presses his length against you, rutting between your folds, the both of you sighing as he coats his dick in your wetness.

“Remember, I wanna see you crying.” Is all he says before he’s pushing into you, the tip of him slipping in and he marvels at the way you spread around his girth as he thrusts further into you, a small moan leaving you when he bottoms out.

You wanna tell him that you won’t be crying tonight but the way he fills you up has you seeing stars, his dick nudging all the right spots inside of you so all you can do is tighten your walls around him and gasp for him to move.

Jungkook grasps your hips, his thumb tracing the outline of your back tattoo as he pulls back and starts a slow pace, determined to find the rhythm that has you falling apart.

When your hands grip the counter in front of you, helplessly trying to find purchase, your fingers knock into your dinner plate and swipe it into the sink beside you but you don’t register the noise and Jungkook grins when he hears the loud moan coming from you when he dick hits the back wall of your cervix.

You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm, so the feel of his thick cock stretching you open has you keening, your hips rutting back to meet his thrusts that have grown in speed, “Who’s needy now huh?” He grunts out, loving the sound of your skin slapping together, “Trying to fuck yourself on my cock, maybe you should do all the work then.”

When his hips still you whimper, twisting your head around to see him giving you an evil smirk, “Go on.” He urges, guiding your hips with his hands to get your started.

A heavy sigh fills the air as your hands press firmly onto the counter to ground yourself as you start to rock back onto him, a slow start until your need to cum again takes over and you speed up your movements.

“Good girl.” He praises, his hand reaching forward to push your hair over your shoulder, his hand trailing down your spine until it reaches your ass, his hand palming your flesh as he groans when he locks into the view of his dick, seeing the way you’re creaming on it.

The sweetest moans reach his ears, he can feel the way your velvety walls tighten around him further, “Fuck Jungkook.” You moan out, you can feel the sweat building up on your skin from exertion and he takes sympathy on you, knowing you want to cum again.

He leans over a presses a kiss against your shoulder before he takes over again, resuming the brutal pace he was pounding you with earlier and you sigh in relief, fully slumping forward and letting him have his way with you.

“You feel so good Jungkookie.” You breathe out and he smiles as he lets his hand slip around to your front, his fingers finding your clit again and the contact has you moaning again. His rough hands helping you reach your peek again, “Oh my god, don’t stop.”

He doesn’t plan on it, loving the way you’re clamping down on him and mumbling nonsense into the cool granite, “Don’t worry, I got you.”

With a few more thrusts you’re falling apart, pressing your forehead against the counter and moaning his name out louder than you thought was possible. Your friends made a good call vacating the house because there was no way you’d be able to keep quiet.

“Thats it.” He coos, pulling his hand away from your clit without slowing down his pace. Your legs felt like jello, glad you had a place to rest on while he continued to jackhammer into you. The first signs of overstimulation started to prick into you, small whines leaving your lips and Jungkook takes notice.

He pulls out of you slowly, his hands grasping your hips to turn you around. Your body is pliable in his hands, letting him move you and haul you up onto the counter, your feet dangling off the edge and a hazy smile on your face.

He presses another kiss against you, letting your tongues tangle together as he grabs your arms and wraps them around his neck, coming back down to hook under your thighs as he slides back into you.

The way you groan into his mouth makes his cock throb, your soaking entrance letting him glide right into you, “Hurts.” You whine out softly when he starts to thrust, not sure if you’d be able to handle another orgasm but Jungkook shushes you softly with another kiss.

“You can do one more for me right baby?” He asks, sucking on your lower lip as he rocks into you slowly. His eyes are half lidded and you can feel how hard he is in you, your body still trembling slightly from your last orgasm but you nod anyways, letting him kiss his way down your face until he reaches your neck again, soft praises leaving his lips.

Your fingers tangle into his hair again as you slump against him, letting him hold you up. You trail along his tattoos, tracing the giant death moth spanned across his collarbone, the tip of the wing reaching the bottom of his neck.

He’s grunting softly against you, getting lost in the feeling of you, the added touches and kisses you plant on his skin igniting the fire inside him. His arms scoop you closer, his hands spreading against your lower back as he speeds up his thrusts, your legs still wrapped around his arms.

The way his dick curves inside you has you moaning again, the pleasure creeping back up and your head falls back as you feel the pressure building again. You’re not sure you could handle coming again but Jungkook seems determined to get you there, rolling into you, the feeling of his pelvis rubbing your clit is too much. Your hands cling onto his back, your fingers digging into the flames and dragon that occupied the space.

“Fuck I can feel you squeezing me.” He gasps out, “You can cum again sweetheart its okay.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hearing him grunting into your ear, his voice dropping into a gravel as he nears his edge as well. You’re clinging onto him for your life, gasping loudly when you reach your third orgasm of the night, the force of it making your mind go blank.

You don’t tune into to the small shriek of his name, the growl he lets out when you tighten around him tighter than before, his hips rearing into yours in a sloppier way until he’s cumming, hips surging forward to bury himself deeper into you as his cock twitches.

You come back when he moans your name out, the feeling of his cum filling you up making you mewl against him. He thrusts shallowly a few more times before pulling out with a sigh, letting your legs fall limp over the edge.

His cum drips out of you, slipping through your folds and down your ass until it pools onto the counter beneath you and he smirks, his eyes coming up to look at you and his expression gets bigger when he sees the tear streaks on your cheeks. His hand cups them, his thumb sliding across your face and wiping them with a laugh, “I told you I’d make you cry.”

You don’t have it in you to be the usual brat you are with him, not after cumming this hard three times in a row so you just pout at him and lean forward to kiss him again, this time being more gentle and slow paced than the last.

“How was that?” He mumbles against your lips, letting you pull him in to you, wrapping your arms around his tiny waist as you nuzzle into his chest.

Jungkook feels you laughing against his skin, “How was that?” You mock as you give him a squeeze, “Let’s just say I’ll cry over your Titan cock any day.”

The both of you burst into laughter, Jungkook pressing a kiss onto the top of your head as you two just stay there. Jungkook and you had officially crossed the line from being bratty friends to sleeping with each other. Neither of you knew what it meant but it seemed like a conversation for tomorrow morning, right now you were content with just holding him.

So when your phone vibrates beside you you’re reluctant to pull away, so Jungkook compromises by reaching it for you and handing it over.

You see its a message from Iseul and you unlock it, your face heating up as you groan and show the message to Jungkook, his face turning just as red as he sees what she sent.

Iseul 10:15pm : Thank you for the show, I hope you two realize we have security cameras in the kitchen and living room you horn dogs.

The two of you peek over at the corner of the room giving a wave and smiling shyly at the blinking security camera staring back at you. Maybe she could send you the footage for keepsake.

#btsghostie #maknaesmutsociety #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts drabble #jeongguk smut #new

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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago

Text

Shapes In The Clouds

Request: can I request a Sebastian x reader (age gap) where he proposes?

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Warnings: nun

A/n: Reposting because tumblr wants to be a lil bitch and not put my posts under the tag🙄 Hope you like it lovely, I’m so sorry for the long wait!💛

(Source: Pinterest)

You were a simple girl. You didn’t need anything extravagant or too loud just to appreciate something. You found joy in the smallest of things even if it was a bad situation you found the brighter side of things. You didn’t like being the center of attention. Honestly it terrified you if all the attention were on you. The eyes of everyone on you watching your every move made you want to sink into the floor and hide away from it all. You were quiet but you weren’t shy, your personality was the epitome of sunshine, as Sebastian would say.

Weirdly enough you ended up being the girlfriend of an actor. The opposite of everything you avoided. He had a different lifestyle. Movie sets, red carpets, bright lights, and parties were what his life consisted of. While yours was made up of offices, magazines, cups of coffees, and sleepless nights of endless work. Thankfully, Seb was one of the private ones. Yes, he was active on social media but that didn’t mean he shared every second of his life on Instagram.

Soon the messages turned into dates, and the dates turned into overnight stays at each other’s apartments. Now a year and a half later you two are living together in a homey apartment in the hidden streets of Manhattan.

You heard the sheets rustle as the human furnace beside you shifted in the bed. The arm resting on your chest tightened its grip around you, pulling you closer to their body. A content sigh left the body beside you.

“Sebba.” You groggily mumble, sleep still evident in your voice. You interlaced your fingers with his, cuddling his arm.

“Buna dimineata iubirea mea.” He greeted you with his morning voice that you were oh so fond of. You lazily giggle and turn in his grip, snuggling into his chest. A low chuckle emitted from his chest as he breathed in your familiar scent mixed with your shampoo. The scent together made him feel like he was home. You are his home.

“Don’t go jogging today.” You tangle your limbs with his and made sure to hang onto him like a sloth.

“Give me a good reason not to.”

“I’ll cuddle the fuck out of you.” You finally open your eyes and rub the sleep out of them. You were greeted with Sebastian’s crooked smile and his steel blue eyes. His hand reaches to brush some hair away from your face, his hand settles itself on your cheek.

“Hmm, I don’t know.” He feigns a thoughtful look as if he were debating with his options. Jogging or cuddling? Although Sebastian had other plans besides jogging or cuddling.

“But you’re a huge softie when it comes to my cuddles.” You stare up at him with puppy eyes. Sebastian nuzzles his nose against yours before answering, “I am, but I have other plans for today.”

“Like what?” You ask sitting up, “Today’s not an anniversary or something…right?”

“No, it’s not don’t worry.” He assures you. But it will be, Sebastian thought to himself.

You move to sit on his lap. Naturally, Sebastian shifts and rests his hands around your waist, his palms press against your lower back as he gazes up at you.

“Well, what did you have in plan, babe?” You ask threading your fingers into his hair. Sebastian hums in content.

“How about we pick up some food from that cafe you’ve been wanting to try near Central Park and have a picnic?” He suggests with hopeful eyes. He really hoped you would agree to his plan.

“Ooo, I haven’t been on a picnic in a while now. Let’s do it, I’m down.” You instantly perk up at the mention of a picnic. You missed being outside and sitting on the grass eating while admiring the view.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence.

“I guess that means we should get up now, huh?” Sebastian scrunches his nose.

“One more minute.” He mutters pulling you down so your head is resting in the crook of his neck.

“Make it two.”

🕗 Time Skip

You and Sebastian walked hand in hand on the streets of NY. The weather was perfect. There was a nice autumn breeze and it wasn’t too cold nor too hot. Sebastian knew this was your favorite kind of weather. Only because you got to wear knitted sweaters, ankle boots, and one of his jackets that were quite big on you.

The two of you walked towards the park. A bag of pastries in one of your hands and a tray of iced coffees in Seb’s free hand. When you guys finally found a secluded spot to sit at, Sebastian took out a blanket from his backpack. You guys sat across each other on the blanket, the pastries and coffees in between you two.

You open the bag and pull out a pain au chocolat (basically a chocolate croissant) from the variety of pastries. Holding it up to Sebastian’s mouth you ask, “You want first bite?”

He answers by opening his mouth wide and taking a huge bite. He moans as he chewed.

“Holy shit, that’s good.” You decide to take a bite yourself. When the buttery flakes of the croissant mixed with the chocolate filling entered your mouth it was like pure Heaven.

“Oh, wow.” Sebastian took an iced coffee out from the tray and gave it shake. He takes a straw out of the bag and pokes it into the lid. He held the cup up to you and motioned for you to take a sip. You hum in delight as you take the coffee from his hands. The next few minutes consisted of the two of you eating breakfast, feeding each other food, or wiping crumbs off the other’s face.

The pastries were now long gone. The two of you laid back on the blanket. Your head was against his chest and his arm was wrapped around your shoulder. You listened to his steady heartbeat as you two pointed out shapes in the clouds. Though his heartbeat began to quicken as you pointed at a specific cloud.

“Hey, that one looks like a ring!” You laugh as you point at the cloud. Sebastian freezes at the mention of a ring. His eyes widen for a millisecond before he regains himself.

“Where do you see that?” You gently place your hand on his chin to navigate his attention towards the cloud.

“Look, there’s the band and then there’s the diamond!” You trace out the shapes with your finger. Sebastian feels his breath get deeper and his hands getting clammy.

This was a sign from the universe that you should do this NOW, he thought to himself.

He pats his jean pocket to see if the box that held forever was still there. He let out a sigh of relief and adjusted himself so he was sitting up. While doing so he sat you up so you were sitting across from him.

“Funny you mention a ring.” He chuckles as he lovingly gazed into your eyes. A smile was on your face but the questionable look on you had was obvious. Sebastian takes your hand in his and runs his thumb across the top of it. He brings your hand up to his soft lips, his scruff tickling your fingers as he presses a kiss on it.

“I love you.” He began eyes admiring the different aspects of your face. “I love you so damn much.”

You laugh as you pat his cheek, “I love you too, baby. What’s going on?”

Sebastian takes both your hands into his.

“You are, the greatest thing that has happened to me. Sure, I’ve been in big movies and have a successful career. But that can all go away one day. One thing that I know for sure is that you won’t. For the last two years you’ve been the only constant in my life. You’ve stuck with me through thick and thin. You’ve been so patient and understanding with me and my horrendous schedules. Even when people hated on us for our differences, you didn’t give up on us. You’re the most amazing, beautiful, and talented woman I’ve ever met. I admire you and everything about you. Every little thing you do, that little nose scrunch, the way you hang onto me like a koala, everything.” Sebastian pauses as a nervous chuckle emits from his chest. You look at him in awe, tears forming in your eyes.

“You deserve the absolute world. I don’t know how I got lucky to deserve someone like you. I know this is a really shitty way of doing it but I just couldn’t help myself. I can’t hold it in any longer. I want all of you, for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” Tears are full on streaming down your face as Seb briefly lets go of your hands to get the box out of his pocket. He wipes the tears from his eyes to see you clearly.

“Wait, stand up. I have to at least do this part properly.” He helps you up to your feet as he kneels before you on one knee. He opens the infamous blue box from Tiffany’s. A store you’ve been fond of after watching Audrey Hepburn’s Breakfast At Tiffany’s. The box reveals a ring with a fairly large diamond that shone in the sunlight.

You wipe the tears from your face as you look down at him. Sebastian’s eyes shone in the light as they held your gaze. With one hand in his, he asked you, “(y/n) (m/n) (l/n), will you marry me?”

You immediately nod your head as you move to cradle his face in your hands.

“Yeah. Yes! Oh my god, yes, I’ll marry you!” You lean down as you bring his face closer to yours. Your lips meet in the middle. Time stopping when they touched, as he pulled you down for a passionate kiss, ignoring the taste of the salty tears that ran down your faces. You pull away for air, Sebastian quickly pecks your lips before you’re out of arms length.

He takes your left hand and slides the ring onto your ring finger. The ring fits you perfectly.

“I can’t believe you’re my fiancé oh my god!” You say in disbelief as you wrap your arms around Sebastian.

“Me either. I finally did it.” Sebastian says, mostly to himself. He’s been holding onto that ring for two months now, it’s about time he popped the question.

You lovingly stroke his cheek as your other arm is draped around his shoulder.

“Te iubesc mult.” You whisper against his lips, a smile making its way on your face. Sebastian’s smile grows even more when he hears you speak in his native language.

“Si eu te iubesc.” He replies as he smiles fondly at you.

“Also, are you crazy, Tiffany’s? Seb, that’s so expensive, I would’ve been fine with something else!” You scold him lightly smacking his chest. Sebastian chuckles as his arms squeeze you into his chest.

“I don’t care. You deserve the best.”

“As long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters.”

translations

Buna dimineata iubirea mea - Good morning my love

Te iubesc mult - I love you a lot

Si eu te iubesc - I love you too

#ally’s requests #marvel #mcu #avengers #Bucky barnes #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan headcanons #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fan fiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel cast x reader

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purrincess-chat · 4 years ago

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In thinking about tags and tagging hate comments, I've realized that not a lot of people know how/what that means, so here is some advice from your local former-salt poster.

If you mention something by name, it will pop up in tumblr search. For instance, if I just say Adrien Agreste, this can pop up when anyone searches for Adrien Agreste, even if I don't tag him (because tumblr is coded by beavers). The easiest way to circumvent this is by breaking up his name with // so Ad//rien Ag//reste or something similar. Alternatively, you can come up with a nickname for whoever or whatever you're talking about so that people who see your post on your blog will know what you are referring to, but it will 100% keep it out of searches. Continuing to use Adrien as an example because people clown on him a lot, you might refer to him as sunshine boy or the cat boy in your posts instead of referring to him by name. Most of my followers know I've adopted this method for a certain other boy in the show, but that's besides the point 😏

That brings us to tagging. Now this is personal preference for me, but I've found it to be effective. Using the same logic as above, if anything in your tags contains a character or ship name, it's going to pop up in the search. All of my Ladrien Wednesday posts pop up in the Ladrien search because they contain the word Ladrien, even though I don't tag them exclusively as "#ladrien". Even if you tag something as "[character] salt" or "anti [ship]" you've still used the name. And while someone could just blacklist that tag, a lot of the time they have to see the content first before they block the tag. The advice I'm giving here is how to keep your posts out of these searches entirely. Personally, I use the same nickname method as above. So, for instance when I wanted to talk about a character I don't particularly care for, I adopted the tag "#blue one salt" for all posts on that subject matter. And ya know what, my posts never popped up in his tags. People who follow me were still welcome to blacklist that tag if they didnt want to see those posts too.

Now all you non-salty people might be saying, "But, Cat, then we will have a million tags to blacklist" and here's the thing: tumblr is at its heart, a curate your own experience platform. What you see directly correlates to who you are choosing to follow, or where you are choosing to look. No one holds a gun to your head and says follow this person or search this tag. If someone posts content you don't like, unfollow them. But if they have established a consistent tagging system, it's then your job to decide what you do and don't want to see. My blacklist is a mile long, but ya know what? I don't see shit I don't want to anymore. Imagine that. It takes maybe 10 seconds to add something to the blacklist.

If other people are being considerate enough to provide you a means, but you're too lazy to use it, that's on you, friend. If someone consistently posts content that bothers you, unfollow them. "But what if I like their fic/art" no one is telling you that you can't tune back in every now and then to check for the stuff you want to see. If it's fic, they likely post it on another platform that has the option to follow or subscribe to a story. If it's art, a lot of people have a personal art tag, or a tag for a particular AU they're doing, or hell even an instagram. Follow those tags.

At the end of the day, regardless of what people do, it's your job to tailor your experience how you want it. Grow up and make those decisions for yourself. Absolutely do not content police. Ask someone to tag something, sure, but never ever say "I don't like this, you shouldn't have posted it" because you could easily just unfollow them.

Personally, I don't care if people like or dislike certain characters/ships, and I feel like a lot of people in fandom don't. What we care about is when you insert those negative opinions into spaces that are meant to be positive. Someone going through the Adrien Agreste tag is likely looking for cute art or fanfic involving him. What they don't want to see is why you think he is a literal spawn of satan. Or whatever you're posting about. And you can argue that they can blacklist tags and curate their own experience, which is true and they should, but you can also choose to not be an asshole and make it easier for them to do so. Because at best people will just block you, but at worst you may start some discourse and get an angry mob in your inbox. We all have to work together in this regard. Salters should be considerate enough to keep their hate out of primary tags, and non-salty people should utilize the filtering/blacklist system available to them to avoid content they don't wish to see.

Be considerate. That's all anyone is asking. Personally, I have no problem with people expressing their opinions on their own blogs, but you need to do so responsibly. Give people the option to see your posts by using proper tagging and censoring. "But Cat, if I don't use main tags how will anyone ever see my posts?" I hear you, but here's the thing: using the main tags won't always attract the people you want on your posts. If your intention is to send out a mating call for other people that think like you, use the ml salt tag (because people perusing that tag are often looking for salt) or join a discord or some shit. There are plenty of them in this fandom. By posting all of your character/ship hate in main tags, all you're doing is clogging the tag, pissing people off, and making fandom less enjoyable for everyone. Just don't be a dick. That's all anyone wants.

#cat speaks #advice from someone who's been here a long ass time and seen shit #trust me in my hiatus i learned how to stay out of the main fandom

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argylemnwrites · 4 years ago

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Fight or Flight - Chapter 14: Help

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4100

Rating: R (language, 30 diamond scene)

Summary: About three weeks since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: With my state surging so badly that the CDC had to come up with a new category for coronavirus monitoring, and my hospital group changing policy constantly, even the illusion of an update schedule is pretty much out the window at this point, so thank you to all of you who are still sticking with this series! I saw that in canon, our crew just now decided to go on the run, but my MC and Drake have been on the lam for a while at this point, hahaha, so thanks for going on this wild ride with them!

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Olivia let out a sigh as the privacy divider in her town car finally finished closing, tipping her head back and tugging the pins out of her hair. “God, what a nightmare.”

Liam hummed in agreement. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the palace tonight? It might be good optics, keeping you in the thick of things since the social season just started.”

He shook his head as he shifted slightly next to her. “After Hana’s conversation with Kiara and all its revelations, we need to be able to discuss things openly. With everything that has already happened, I don’t trust my assigned quarters at the palace to not be bugged.”

All Olivia could do was let out a little shrug. She knew he had a point, but she was worried about his overall approach here. All the strategizing and discussing in the world wouldn’t matter if he didn’t maintain an image of strength and dependability. Trotting back to the seclusion of Lythikos consistently would absolutely weaken the perception others had of him.

“So, I think we can safely assume that Amalas knows about this alliance between Barthelemy and Auvernal. It would explain why she was so eager to strike a deal with us,” Liam continued, reaching up and loosening his tie as he stretched his neck.

“But why would Aurvernal agree to work with Barthelemy? He wasn’t exactly supportive of them when they were trying to force Drake and Riley to solidify the betrothal. Hell, he used that mess to argue against their suitability to raise Bridget.”

Liam frowned, his eyes dropping to his lap for just a moment. “The latter part of your statement I can see him spinning over the coming months. He can argue that he has met with neighboring leaders and struck more beneficial alliance terms than I was ever able to foster, making him better suited for the role of monarch. With the delay in the start of the social season, he’ll have plenty of time to sell it as believable.”

“We had to push Rashad to delay. Hana told us that we need to make sure-”

“-Kiara represents House Theron, I know. It’s just unfortunate the delay may also be desirable for Barthelemy’s camp as well as ours. It would be nice to catch a break for once.”

“Liam…”

He ignored her attempt at sympathy. “Oh well, that’s just the reality isn’t it? We need to figure out how Auvernal played into Landon’s decision. Have you been able to buy off any of their staff?”

Olivia shook her head. “Not yet. I have a couple of leads on a maid and a driver who might be loyal to you, though.”

“That’s something, I suppose. I guess we should probably try and gain some intelligence about the motives of Bradshaw and Isabella as well, shouldn’t we?” He sounded tired, his hands working to remove his cufflinks.

“Yeah, we definitely need to hit this from multiple angles, find out their goal and what they might have done to sway not only Landon, but Hakim and Adelaide. Barthelemy is absolutely going to challenge Bertrand for control of House Beaumont, so we need to gain at least two of those votes. Counting on keeping the Beaumont vote in our camp is just too… dicey at this point, don’t you think?”

Liam nodded, but didn’t seem to want to say anything, so Olivia just kept going. “Now, I think since it’ll be Kiara voting, and she’s been very willing to divulge things to Hana, that is probably our best bet. And I know I’ve been focusing on getting some dirt on Landon and Emmeline, but maybe Adelaide would be the easier pick up? She’s never had much interest in actual politics, so maybe if we had Maxwell just socialize with her repeatedly at the upcoming events, that might be enough? For whatever reason she’s always loved him.”

She glanced over, surprised to find Liam with his eyes closed, his head tipped back. Had he fallen asleep that quickly?

“Liam?” she hissed out.

“I’m still listening; I promise you I’m not asleep.”

“Do you have anything to add?”

He shook his head against the back of the seat without opening his eyes. “No, you seem to have things under control.”

“But, I was-”

“-I trust you, Olivia.”

His words should have been affirming and confidence boosting, but instead all she felt was fear. He should be more invested than this. He needed to be more invested than this. And honestly, she was sure he knew that fact. He would go through the motions of strategizing with her on a regular basis. But he always faded quickly, becoming distracted or introspective. He was ruminating instead of focusing and channeling that hurt and pain into something productive.

But that wasn’t going to stop tonight. It was very late, and the drive back to Lythikos was a long one. So, Olivia just let him rest, pulling out her burner phone and scanning for any news bulletins about the Walkers being found in Athens, letting out a small sigh of relief when she found none. It looked like Leo and Riley had managed to pull it off. Combine that with Hana’s intel, and she knew the night had been more successful than not. She just needed Liam to start to see things that way. Otherwise, the upcoming months were going to be even bleaker than anticipated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riley kept her head down as she shuffled past a man in the hallway. With two large duffels, it was a bit awkward, and she didn't want the man to remember anything about her other than the fact that it was a bit of a tight fit with all her luggage.

Once he was out of sight, she unlocked the door to their hotel room, opening it as narrowly as possible to slide into the room. She had barely closed and locked the door when she felt a pair of familiar strong arms engulfing her. She dropped the duffel bags to the ground and spun in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his back.

"You're back," Drake murmured into her hair. She could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, his whole body practically trembling. "You were late, and I thought…"

"Leo was almost an hour late," she said, her voice somewhat muffled by his chest because of how closely he was holding her. "I wanted to text you, but-"

"No, you made the right call." They had decided early on to avoid using their new phones to contact each other if at all possible. That way, if one of them got picked up and taken into custody, the other wouldn't be instantly traceable. It meant a lot of anxiety and fear when they weren't together, though. "I just… I… I was worried that…" Drake kept trailing off, almost as if he was unable to say his fears out loud.

"I know, Drake. I know. But it's okay. It all went okay." She slid her hands up, tracing between his shoulder blades, running her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe both him and herself. To call tonight stressful was a mad understatement.

“Leo had our stuff?”

She nodded against his chest. “In his hotel room. I obviously didn’t take the time to dig through it all, but I saw toys, clothing, documents, money.”

Drake ran his hands through her hair, then loosened his hold on her enough to lean back and look her in the eyes. “Did anyone… were you...”

“I don’t think anyone noticed me, Drake.”

He let out a shuddering breath, and then he was kissing her. Not some gentle, tender peck, but hard and deep. Like he used to kiss her when they were alone. Before she turned their lives upside down.

She missed this. She knew it was stupid. They were wanted fugitives and barely getting by in a foreign country. They were hungry and stressed and sleep-deprived. On top of that, they shared one room with their soon-to-be 11 month old daughter, so they had no privacy. Their sex life was far from their most pressing concern.

But… she still missed it, that sense of shared connection and intimacy, and that encompassed more than just the sex. She honestly felt like his teammate or coworker more than his wife far too often. They just spent so much time on the practical, discussing next steps, trying to arrange logistics. Moments of shared laughter and warmth were few and far between these days. And sure, they didn't really have much to laugh about, but it was still a loss.

When she’d sat on his lap yesterday after dyeing her hair, it almost felt like a sliver of their old life and dynamic was back. She’d teased him, he’d held her close. But moments like that were just not the norm for them anymore. Most of the time, even any physical affection was more focused on comfort in light of something negative. Holding hands, hugs, that sort of thing seemed to only happen when their world felt like it was crumbling around them. It’s like they shared nothing but worry and fear most of the time.

There was also the fact that Drake hadn't opened up to her about his own emotions. She knew him. She knew that his fractured relationship with Liam must be weighing on him, that he must feel mad guilty about so many things. But he wasn't telling her anything. He hadn't kept things from her like this in years, and it honestly scared the shit out of her. At first, she thought he was just trying to shield her from his own pain. She knew that her initial panic had probably sent him into hyper-protective mode. But that was weeks ago. She was pretty sure she was holding it together better now. At the very least, she didn't think she was a walking mess anymore.

But Drake was definitely still keeping everything bottled up, and she had to wonder if that was in part because he didn't trust her. Whether it was because her initial panic had meant that she had not considered him enough or because he resented her decision to take Bridget out of Cordonia and away from their entire support system or because he couldn't help but see her as the reason he was named a traitor she had no idea. And maybe he was still just trying to shield her from his own worries and anxieties, but the fear was there that in her efforts to protect her kid, she was slowly losing her husband.

While Drake was off busting his ass to keep their family afloat, she'd had a lot of time to think, and she knew that wasn't helpful. When Bridget was awake, playing with her kept her mind off of those awful thoughts, but they kept creeping back in when she napped and slept. There was only so long that playing Dopey Cat could provide a distraction, after all. So instead she wondered endlessly if she had only been able to keep Bridget by her side at the cost of the foundation of her marriage.

For so many years, those fears of never mattering enough to someone else, of always ending up alone in the end had led her to keep relationships superficial. She’d avoided vulnerability, and therefore pain, at all costs. But then she came to Cordonia, and she had Drake, Hana, Maxwell, and Liam. She’d come to trust and feel and it was beyond anything younger her could have ever dreamed up. But now she’d ruined things with Liam, was disconnected from Hana and Maxwell, and it seemed all too likely she’d damaged things with Drake, too. All those people, who actually cared about her. She’d made a mess of the best parts of her life.

And maybe she was overreacting. Drake still clearly loved and cared about her. Worried about her constantly, in all honesty. But she also worried that he was gradually pulling away from her, that some day would creep up on them where all they would share would be concern for Bridget. But tonight, after all the stress and anxiety and fears of the evening, he was kissing her like he wanted her, like he loved her, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

She let out a pathetically needy moan, the sort of noise that would usually draw a smirk and some teasing from Drake. But tonight, he didn’t. Instead, he just surged forward with a groan of his own, driving her back into the wall and hooking his hands around her thighs, hoisting her up onto his waist before she could even process what was going on.

Riley clawed her fingers into his shoulders, dropping her head back against the wall as he moved his lips across her jaw. She began rocking her hips against him, tilting her head to the side as he worked his way down her neck, biting down lightly as he went. She tugged at his t-shirt, and after a few moments, he finally got the hint, sliding his hands out from under her thighs, letting her drop to the floor as he pulled off his shirt.

Deep down, Riley knew they had a lot they still needed to talk about and that doing this wasn’t going to fix the ache that had been growing in her heart, day by day. But she also knew that after weeks of stress and the horrible possibilities about tonight that had been running through both their minds, maybe this was just something they really needed. So she scrambled to tug off her shirt and jeans, kicking her sandals somewhere towards the door as Drake unbuckled his pants, and in almost no time they were both adding their underwear to the pile of clothing on the floor.

They were back on each other in an instant, hands grabbing and stroking, mouths everywhere. Riley felt her feet leaving the floor, so she wrapped her legs around Drake’s waist as he held her under her thighs, slamming her back against the wall. And then he was sinking into her, dropping his head to her shoulder to muffle the groan he let out as he did so.

It was all quick and frantic, both of them thrusting against each other wildly. She could sense that Drake was just as desperate as her. Desperate to feel something besides anxiety and guilt and pain. She knew she was going to have bruises from his fingers with how tightly he was clutching her thighs, but she didn’t care. Hell, she wondered how badly she was scratching his back. None of that mattered.

She hissed out his name as his lips latched back onto her neck. She knew this was going to be quick, so as she slid one hand up to his neck, tugging on his hair, she also dropped her other hand down between them, letting her fingers trace circles right above where they were joined. It didn't take long before she felt a warmth spreading out, down her legs and up her back, and then she was gone. Drake must have felt her climax, because he muttered "Fuck" into the skin of her neck, only driving into her a couple more times before she felt him spilling inside her. He slumped against the wall, his weight the only thing keeping her from sliding to the floor.

After a few moments, Drake let out a sigh, placing his hands back on her thighs and easing her down as he took a step back. “You okay?” he asked, his head slightly downturned.

Riley closed the newly-created gap between them, stepping forward and sliding a hand up to his cheek. “Drake, I’m fine. Are… are you okay?”

He nodded, tugging her into a gentle hug. “I just… I think I…”

“It’s okay, Drake. I get it.” She didn’t like that he still apparently couldn’t talk to her, but if he’d needed a minute of physical comfort and reprieve, well that was pretty fucking understandable. So she didn’t push him, just joined him in getting cleaned up and dressed in a t-shirt and underwear. While Drake washed the day’s clothes in the bathroom, she checked on Bridget, passed out in the travel crib Drake had picked up a few weeks back. They hadn’t used it to this point, and Riley wondered why Drake had dug it out of the car tonight. It had been safely tucked away with the tent, sleeping bags, and ground pad since he bought it.

“I thought we should probably start trying to get her used to it.” Drake’s voice cut through the room, startling Riley and answering the question she never got a chance to ask. “We are looking at months of being on the run. We need to start… I don’t know, making things… stable for her, I guess.”

“Makes sense,” said Riley, giving her daughter one last look before turning around to face Drake. “How did she handle bedtime?”

He grimaced and shook his head. “I think she was scared or upset because you weren’t here. She was basically inconsolable. I contemplated taking her on a drive just to calm her down. I kind of figured the night couldn’t get any worse, so I might as well try the crib. She screamed for about an hour before she wore herself out.”

Riley walked over and wrapped her arms around Drake. He struggled more with the sleep training than she did, even if he talked a way bigger game about letting Bridget “cry it out” in the light of day. “Well, she’s asleep now at least.”

Drake nodded, running a hand up and down her back. “You ready to go through the bags?”

She nodded and gave him a little smile, sitting down on the end of the bed as Drake grabbed the duffels and brought them over. They slowly worked their way through them, item by item. Hana had included so many useful things, from the practical, like clothes appropriate for a variety of types of weather and spare contact lenses and Riley’s glasses, to the unessential but truly missed, like Bridget’s stuffed corgi and Riley’s good hair brush. There was a lot of money in there, too. Thousands of Euros, which probably wouldn’t be enough to get them all the way until January, but at least made their situation a lot less dire. Their passports and birth certificates were tucked in there as well. For the first time, it felt like they might have some options when it came to their next steps.

After twenty minutes or so of sorting and unpacking, they reached the bottom of the bags. There were a handful of framed photos. Riley hadn’t mentioned any pictures as being something they wanted, so this must have been Hana’s idea. There were a couple that had been displayed in their bedroom and den. A candid Maxwell took on their wedding reception, Drake sitting down as Riley stood behind him, her arms looped over his shoulders, both of them looking at each other with stupid, cheesy grins on their faces. The two of them with Savannah, Bertrand, and Bartie taken down in Texas, the day before the wedding. A photo of the three of them that Hana had taken in the privacy of their home the day after the anointing with them in casual clothing, just curled up on the couch holding Bridget, a stark contrast from the pomp of the formal portrait for the history books and press release the day before. There were a couple of new ones, too. The corgis snuggled together on their massive cushion in the den. Hana and Maxwell grinning with arms thrown over each other's shoulders, clearly a selfie taken by Maxwell at a formal event. Liam and Olivia sitting on a couch at what appeared to be the Lythikos keep, Olivia with an eyebrow raised, Liam with a hollow-looking smile.

Riley glanced over at Drake, unsure how these photos would affect him. He just swallowed roughly before placing the stack of photos he was holding on the bed next to him. Riley leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. They were both silent for a few moments until Drake finally spoke.

“Was that everything?”

Riley shook her head. “No, there’s a letter. At least I assume that’s what it is. It’s an envelope with Hana’s writing.”

Drake didn’t say anything, so after a few seconds, Riley leaned forward, grabbing the envelope with “Riley & Drake” looped in beautiful cursive sitting at the bottom of one of the duffels. She slid her finger under the flap and pulled out a sheet of stationary with delicate pink and cream flowers in the corners. She held it between them so that Drake could read it at the same time.

Riley and Drake,

I hope that you and Bridget are all doing well and in as good of spirits as the circumstances will allow. I can only imagine how incredibly difficult this must be for you.

In these bags, I’ve included the items you mentioned as well as a few more toys for Bridget and pieces of clothing that I thought would be suitable for when the weather gets colder. I know it isn’t much, but hopefully this will make your lives just a little more comfortable.

I also sent some pictures I thought you might like to have, both old and new. Whenever things get tough, just remember that you have people who love you and want the best for you and your family.

While this is probably the furthest thing from your mind, I want to assure you that I am not taking my position as Duchess of Valtoria lightly. I am setting up citizen meetings for the upcoming weeks. Judging by the protests outside of the estate, you have a lot of support still here, and when this is all resolved, I will step down if you would like to rightfully reclaim your titles.

I love and miss you both, and tell Bridget that Aunt Hana misses her, too. Maxwell said I should include paw prints from Anderson, Vera, Ellis, and Ilsa, but for the sake of the staff who would need to clean up that mess, I will just settle on saying they clearly miss you as well.

Keep safe, Hana

Riley twisted to look at Drake. She knew he would already be done since he was a faster reader than her. His face was very still as he stared over at Bridget’s crib.

“Drake?”

He jerked his head over to look at her, giving her a very empty smile as he did so. “Your best friend is really something, huh?”

She frowned, trying to suss out how much she should read into that statement, but he kept his expression blank. When it became clear he wasn’t going to elaborate more, she settled on a light response, knowing he probably didn’t want to delve into things too deeply at this point. “She really is. But her assumption that we would be at all worried about our former titles is adorably naive.”

Drake let out a little snort of a chuckle, so Riley kept going. “Can you imagine us just rolling back to Valtoria after all of this and challenging Hana for the title?”

His smile became a little more genuine at that. “Well, being out of touch with reality is a common trait amongst the nobility. Maybe it would just be us finally catching up with the rest of them.”

She nudged him with her elbow. “Come on, let’s pack this stuff up and get some sleep.”

“Sounds like a plan, Walker.”

Riley stood up and offered a hand to Drake, tugging him to his feet as well. There was still a lot they needed to sort through and take care of, both practically and emotionally. She knew that. Even with everything given to them tonight, the months ahead were hardly going to be a cake walk, and she knew she would have to get Drake talking at some point. But for the first time in weeks, she felt true hope. Hope that they could make this work, that they weren’t two seconds away from failing their daughter and each other, that they were moving forward. And for tonight, that felt like enough.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie

TRR/TRH: @iaminlovewithtrr @mskaneko @axwalker @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @debramcg1106 @masterofbluff @sarahx206

Drake/MC: @no-one-u-know @iplaydrake

FoF: @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby

#drake walker #drake x mc #trh au #trh fanfic #trh au fanfic #choices fanfiction #trh #the royal heir #king liam #olivia nevrakis #n*fw #30 diamonds

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jakeperalta · 3 years ago

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tag games! i’ve been tagged in a few recently so i’m putting them together on this post, there’s a lot of overlap between questions so i’ve combined a few variations within part 2 :)

part 1 - tagged by @jonmercer & @daenersys & @ithinkheknowss 💕💕💕

Why did you choose your url? i was offered it by a lovely mutual who knew how much i love jake!!

Any side blogs? @cosystudy (although i only ever reblog on there now) & @photoshopresource which is just a place to collect editing resources/tutorials etc

How long have you been on tumblr? since summer 2012 👵

Do you have a queue tag? it’s “queue and me forevermore” (as in the lyric from new years day by tswift) but i’m not very consistent at using it on mobile!

Why did you start your blog in the first place? back when i was in the 1d twitter fandom we used to sometimes go on omegle with the “directioner” tag and people used to ask if i had tumblr and i had no idea what it was but decided to get it for the 1d fandom lmao

Why did you choose your icon/pfp? folklore album of the year!!! staying up and watching her grammy performance and then seeing her win aoty was such a fun night, also her dress is very pretty

Why did you choose your header? rory and logan my beloveds ❤

What’s your post with the most notes? i believe it’s my text post about celebrities’ private lives that got hijacked by a weird l*rry shipper 🥴

How many mutuals do you have? I actually have no idea, I guess just a slightly smaller number than the number of blogs I follow??

How many followers do you have? over 11k

How many people do you follow? 1502

Have you ever made a shit post? like half my blog is random thoughts no one asked for so yes absolutely

How often do you use tumblr a day? i’m usually on and off it for a few minutes at a time on mobile all day, then i might spend a longer time on desktop in the evenings

Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog? not really, i usually block people before it can become an argument lol

How do you feel about the ‘you need to reblog’ posts? most of the time it makes me want to reblog less

Do you like tag games? yes! i like getting to know people

Do you like ask games? also yes!

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? idk who i’d pick specifically but there’s lots of very cool people who seem pretty big within their respective fandoms

Do you have a crush on a mutual? no lol

part 2 - catch up meme: tagged by @jonmercer / @benwvatt / @nicolemkidman 💖💖💖

favorite color: purple

last song: take me to church - hozier

last album: amidst the chaos - sara bareilles

last movie: pretty woman

currently reading: the living sea of waking dreams by richard flanagan, also listening to the audiobook of someday someday maybe by lauren graham

currently watching: one tree hill

currently craving: could really go for some chocolate cake right now

coffee or tea: coffee

sweet, spicy, or savory: sweet!

currently working on: my masters dissertation 😭😭

relationship status: in a relationship 🥰

three favorite foods: macaroni cheese, any other kind of pasta, tofu katsu curry

song stuck in my head: high horse - kacey musgraves

last thing i googled: "apple music replay 2021″

time: 23:54

dream trip: australia, especially tasmania

anything i really need right now: a holiday and a break from dissertation hell lmao

tagging - anyone who tagged me in one if they haven’t done the other! also @cardigantaylor13 @reputayswift @gwen-stace @alisonsmouth @fukyouforever @its-tortle @dress if you guys want to!! 💗

#tag games

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ubernoxa · 5 years ago

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The Sip: A GNR Modern Day AU

Chapter 6: Just Friends

Previous Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Chapter Summary: Alanah gets a call from her manager and Duff surprises her with some help.

Warning: Fluff

I sat on the couch in Sandy’s and my apartment wishing I was anywhere else.

Declan had surprised Sandy for dinner and they were currently out eating at some fancy restaurant.

A couple hours earlier, Declan showed up at our door with a dozen roses dresses in a full suit. Apparently it was their six month anniversary, but you wouldn’t know that if you saw Sandy at the party last night. There are times I wonder if she knows what the definition of committed relationship is. I can’t judge though, my last relationships was borderline fake.

Originally we were supposed to record, but they both looked so excited to go. Before Sandy could break the news to him on how she couldn’t go, I told her we could reschedule. We had some prerecorded stuff, so we could just post that instead. She was still hesitant, so I added on that I could livestream cooking. Eventually she caved and left for her dinner with Declan. I hope she didn’t cheat on him, but the way that stranger’s arm was wrapped around her led me to believe the worst. She was supposed to be the smart one out of the two of us. She didn’t leave without making a comment on how I should invite Duff over for the stream. I swear she just wanted me to get in a relationship again, so we could go on double dates and couples vacations.

I continued to stare in the mirror as I finished applying my foundation. My heart skipped a beat as the sound of my phone ringing echoed through my apartment. Duff?

To my disappointment, it was only my media manager..well both Sandy’s and my media manager. We hired her a while back to help us with the legal side of YouTube and to help with our social presence.

“Hey Alanah, hows it going?”

“Good, Good...preparing to do the livestream I just texted you about,” I began to begin working on my eyes as I spoke.

“Okay well...you know how I hate getting into your personal life Alanah, but...” God I wish she would just spit it out. I knew she was going to ask about if I was dating Duff or not. I know we’re not, but I....I don’t know. After this morning’s bathroom event, I needed to know what that meant to him. No way that was just two friends hanging out, or maybe that’s how a rockstar hangs out with girls? Fuck.

“Are you dating Duff,” I let a fake laugh escape me once she finally got around to asking the question.

“No, just friends.” Yup, just friends would had sex multiple times in the past 24 hours and then relaxed in a jacuzzi together. Just casual friend things.

My manager went silent for a couple seconds. Was she expecting me to say yes?

“Things just ended with Mark, and I just want to enjoy being single. I won’t lie, I shed a couple tears when I heard he said Alanah who....but I’ve heard worst things. Why are you asking?” I stopped applying my makeup and focused on my manager. She went silent again, and that wasn’t ever a good sign.

“Well, you were tagged in some social media posts.....” she once again paused causing my patience to go extinct. SPIT IT OUT.

“There was a video from the paparazzi, Ill send it your way. I know Mark is a celebrity, but he wasn’t a household name like Duff. If you two do start dating you are aware that you are going to lose your sense of privacy right? You’ll be added to his list of ex’s. That’s what you will be known for,” I let out a sigh as she finished talking. Jesus Christ, we aren’t even dating and I was already getting this talk.

“Just friends,” I faked the confidence in my voice before I heard her mumble something.

“Well I’m glad you’re doing well, I’ll send you a link to the video I was referencing. If you and Duff are JUST FRIENDS you should ask him to help cook for your stream tonight,”

“Really?” I sounded like a nervous middle schooler as I spoke. Why was I nervous?

“Yeah, could be fun. Have a good one Alanah,” she hung up before I could even say goodbye...typical.

I opened up Instagram and was immediately met with a bunch of notifications. Whoever ran the Gun’s Instagram page had tagged me in a couple of photos. Most of them consisted of photos from earlier in the night of us around the BBQ. I was surprised to see that I looked decent in most of them, and in a couple...only a couple of the photos...Duff and I did look like we were dating. He had is arm wrapped around my waist or I was sitting on his lap. We aren’t dating though just friends.

I went over to his page to message him, and that’s when I froze. I immediately clicked on the most recent post and scrolled through the photos. There was one photo that caught my attention. It was from when we were eating dinner last night. It must have been cropped because it was just the two of us, but I remembered this moment. He had just made a joke that was so stupid I couldn’t help, but laugh. Yesterday I didn’t notice it, but he was smiling down at me as I giggled in the photo and he had his hand wrapped around my waist. I couldn’t read into that much more. We are just friends. We are nothing more than friends. FRIENDS.

I logged into the Instagram account specifically for Sandy’s and my YouTube channel and began to record a video.

“Hey guy! Hope you’re haveing a great Tuesday. Sandy is out celebrating an anniversary so you’re stuck with me tonight!”

“Tonight I will be live-streaming me attempting to cook something you guys comment below! So comment your ideas and hopefully I won’t burn them!”

I then when to share the video on twitter and Tumblr to try to gain traction.

I put some music on and began to scroll through the comments trying to find an idea of what to cook. The comments started out as helpful but after some scrolling a lot of the comment were about Duff....I placed my phone out and let out a sigh.

“Are you and Duff dating?”

“Wow, talk about a rebound”

“Duff + Alanah... #upgrade”

Why did I have to deal with this bull shit? Not that I wouldn’t mind being his girlfriend....but he was a rockstar and we were JUST FRIENDS.

I was pulled from my thoughts as my phone began to ring. Speaking of the devil, it was Duff.

“Hey, what’s up?” I smiled as I looked at my screen. His hair was all over the place and he looked exhausted. It must had been a long practice.

“I’m about 30 seconds away from killing my bandmates, you?”

“Well I’m currently trying to chose what to cook for my livestream,” I quickly checked what I looked like on the screen. I was thankful that I put makeup on and did my hair, I looked pretty good..not to toot my own horn or anything.

“How about Thai Salmon?” I was caught off guard by his recommendation.

“Ohhh uhhh I don’t know how to bake that.....and umm...I don’t want to look like a fool on livestream,” I was tripping over my words, unable to cease talking.

“Well if you need help, I’m actually a decent cook. I could even show you some stuff if you want,” he wanted to help me cook?

“Yeah sure!” I could feel a smile growing on my cheek from ear to ear as I spoke. I watched a smile flash on his face as I answered.

“Great! So I’ll bring the ingredients we need and we also have to soak the salmon for two hours before it’s cooked!”

My stomach was performing backflips as Duff talked. He was excited. He was excited to hang out with me. Holy shit.

Time flew by as I began to setup the two cameras. The first was on a rather large tripod allowing you to see the entire kitchen, which wasn’t much, and the second was a small camera that would be used for more close up shots.

***Buzz***

I practically jumped out of my skin when I heard my apartment’s doorbell ring. I bolted towards my intercom to the lobby, “Hello?”

“Hey Alanah, it’s Duff I got the stuff, wanna let me in or we can try to cook in the lobby?” I chuckled as I hit a button on my intercom and buzzed in. What if he thinks less of me because of my small apartment? What if he thinks I’m below him? Is my apartment too dirty? Is it too clean?

A knock at the door pulled me out of my chaotic merry-go-round of thoughts.

I took a deep breath and opened my door.

“So this is what your apartment looks like,” he had a small smile on his face as he walked around looking at the photos that hung on the wall.

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” I shrugged leaning against the table for support.

“Its cozy! I got the food, shall we begin?”

“Umm...yeah..uhhh..yeah..so since the salmon needs to marinate I’m doing a little prerecording for the video to post later in the week if that’s fine,” I wanted to kick myself repeatedly for stumbling over my words. God! I felt like such a baffoon.

“How can I help?” I watched as he looked at my camera positioned to look at the entire room.

“You can do whatever you want! If you wanna help with the cameras it’s up to you. If you want to sit on the couch and be on your phone that’s fine too,” I shrugged watching his body language as I spoke. He actually wanted to help....the rockstar was looking to help..weird okay.

“So that camera there is for overall shots while this one is for like close up,” I held up the second camera showing him how to properly hold it.

“So this first part isn’t live?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to make everyone wait two hours. I usually take live-streams and create highlight videos,” I began to pull the items out of Duff’s cloth bag.

I looked over to see Duff fiddling with the second camera and eventually turning it on. Out of the corner of my eye I then watched as he turned on the second one. Maybe he wasn’t as unfamiliar with cameras as I expected him to be.

I then felt him wrap his arms around my waist.

“Hey...Duff,” I could feel my heart rate about to explode through my chest. I’ve had sex with him before, why was I nervous around him? Why the hell was him being so close to me making my stomach become an Olympic gymnast?

“Don’t mind me, I’m just turning on your mic,” and with that I hear a faint click from a small switch that turned my mic on. He then clapped once and went to pick up the second camera.

“I’m ready when you are,” I could feel my cheeks turning red as he spoke. His damn smirk never leaving his stupid face. He knew what he was doing.

“Alright, welcome to another cooking with Alanah and Sandy, but this time there is no Sandy so we will see what happens! My current goal is to not burn the food,” before I could continue Duff’s laughter echoed through my apartment.

“What? Also cameramen should be quiet!” I teased back pointing at the camera, only making his laugh harder.

“Alanah, babe, I’ve seen your previous cooking videos and I think your goal should be to not burn down your apartment,” I froze as I tried to make out what he said between laughing.

Babe?

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t get rid of the smile that had grown on my face.

“Alright so tonight we are making teriyaki salmon! The first step is to create the marinate!” I pulled out the cooking instructions I had made Duff write before he came over.

“Alright so for the sweet chili sauce we will combine water, white vinegar, cornstach, garlic clove, and.......maple syrup,” I looked over at Duff as I read the last ingredient.

“Are you messing with me Duff?” His laughter filled the room once again and I couldn’t help but join him. His laugh was contagious.

“If I was messing with you I would have either been more subtle or more outlandish,” I watched as he placed the camera on my mini tripod infornt of the bowls I had setup for mixing.

We spent the next thirty minutes preparing the sauce together, and I loved every second of it.

“And now we wait for two hours while the salmon soaks,” Duff said into the camera before smirking at me. He was good in front of a camera and he knew it.

“So now we have two hours,” I finished turning off the cameras and my mic as he spoke.

“Do you have anything in mind in how to spend the time?” This time I couldn’t help but let a smirk wander into my face.

Without hesitation, Duff pulled me in and we began to kiss as he dragged me to my bedroom.

#gnr imagine #gnr fanfic #guns n’ roses fanfic #guns n’ roses imagine #duff mckagan imagine #duff mckagan fanfiction #duff fanfic

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ladyfawkes · 5 years ago

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Stop Calling Him ‘Horace’! - Eugene Fitzherbert Appreciation Week | Day 7: Birth Day

Sooooo.... Basically, I planned to have this pretty little fanfic finished up for today, the final day of Eugene Appreciation Week. This fanfic is extra-special, specifically it features our Eugene at ages we’ve never seen him in canon. Allow me to sum up this “plan” of mine in one word: HAAAAA!!!! Suffice it to say that although fanfic is very old-hat to me (I’ve been writing it since 1991, fgs) the world of fic-blogging is still relatively NEW to me and several of my fics and headcanons that I’ve released the past several weeks are needing to connect and soon, otherwise the whole convoluted, many-headed Medusa won’t wind up making any sense at all. I’m not exactly certain how it’ll all come together yet but I have to say that getting to spend the past week with all of you fellow Fitzy enthusiasts on Twitter and Tumblr has been some of the BEST DAYS EVER that I’ve experienced on the internet in my entire online life!!!! (And I’ve had an internet presence since 1991!!!) You’ve injected me with serious shots of Inspiration Elixir and I’ve had soooo very many ideas pass through my mind just over the past 7 days that I can’t possibly hope to catalog all of them. I haven’t felt quite this inspired in, well, YEARS. I’ve enjoyed the heck out of sharing and exchanging headcanons, theories, ideas, essays, and even artforms. I’ve had a Tumblr account for more than ELEVEN YEARS and yet this is the first and only time I have consistently blogged and reblogged over the “heart-stopping” a time-span of 7 months **gasp** now (and counting). I’m a member of a couple dozen fandoms at least and this is the ONLY ONE that has consistently captured my interest AND managed to not scare the shit out of me so badly that I have to go and hibernate my account for the next, y’know, 3498349540 months. Until yet another worthy obsession captures my interest..... but Tangled the Series is still burning the brightest and I REALLY need it to right now, tbh. So THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to everybody with whom I’ve interacted on this....I have health issues that cause me to transpose and forget names. But if you wish me to personally tag you, please tag THIS particular post and I shall tag you when I have actually finished this particular scene sequence featured in THIS ficlet. So now!!!!! Without further ado, I shall give you a teaser of the drabble-turned-ficlet-turned-short-story that will eventually feature the actual Birth Day of one Eugene Fitzherbert!!! Click the keep reading link below to see the remaining text. =)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Edmund knew from the beginning that Alexys did not like the name “Horace”. At the time, the king had told her that it was family tradition that the first-born son should receive a strong family name. Despite her pointed protests, he was utterly immovable on the subject.

The more Alexys’s belly grew, the more her dislike for that name swelled too. Shouldn’t she have a say in their child’s name, given that she was putting in all the work of keeping him healthy and strong, so to speak? Shouldn’t her family names count as possibilities too? Unfortunately, Edmund’s childhood largely consisted of his father and grandfather basically hazing him into believing that he had to “take command” of virtually any subject matter, in practically any situation. As a result, he thought of just about everything in militaristic terms. Over the past 4 years, Lexy had slowly and subtly molded her hot-headed young 20-something husband toward different healthier, less uptight ways of handling life and looking at various situations.

They had finally settled on a great couple synergy and got along very well -- except for the times they had an ongoing argument, that is. And this was definitely one of those times.

“I don’t understand why you won’t see reason, Edmund!”

“Because it’s more than just a name, Alexys! It’s a birthright. It connects him directly back to us and these names might very well be the most important gift we could ever give to our children!”

“You don’t think I know that?? Just as sure as I know this child is a boy, I am equally certain that he will not live a traditional royal life. And his name must reflect that!!”

Apparently, entertaining the possibility that any son of Edmund’s wouldn’t want to grow up a devoted soldier completely servile to the Moonstone wasn’t a possibility he was ready to face. Alexys watched as Edmund drew in a long breath, held it, his face turning interesting colors. Slowly his hands balled into fists and rather than saying anything, he exhaled one very pent-up breath and stomped out of the room. She had never before seen him so agitated. Although she also sensed the naming subject wasn’t at the core of his ire that day, she never brought it up again. Alexys hoped that whatever it was eating at him, Edmund would be able to solve it by the time their child came. And that would happen any day now.

Alexys wanted so much to tell Edmund about the beautiful vivid dreams she’d been having about their future child the past few nights. But he’d been increasingly preoccupied, sullen, and distant over the past month. It was most unfortunate and Alexys was as yet at a loss of how to help him. Now....while it’s true every good mother believes their child to be exceptional, Alexys knew that their son was destined to shatter tradition. For the first time in millennia, she knew without doubt that he would be the one to bring light to the Dark Kingdom.

One of her dreams began with a small boy, age 4 or 5, who had floppy brown hair and very expressive round eyes just like Edmund. In the dream, Alexys and the boy were standing on a trail near the edge of a narrow rock crevasse....a location that somehow seemed familiar to Lexy....but she couldn’t quite place it. The little boy smiled up at her cherubically and reached out a chubby little hand toward hers.

“Play?” he questioned sweetly. He was happily bouncing on his feet, very subtly heel to toe, and even when he was in one place he barely stood still.

“Yes, of course!” Alexys replied, grinning in awe at this absolutely beautiful dream-child her mind was currently conjuring. She gathered up her long skirts and petticoats in her left hand and took the little boy’s offered hand in her right. As they walked, she noticed a small mole at the base of the boy’s neck and it matched exactly the one that Edmund had, only in miniature. So her suspicions had been confirmed; this was indeed their son. They approached what Alexys recognized to be a very-scaled-down version of The Great Tree....and the crevasse was apparently a much-scaled-down version of the gorge which held the actual Great Tree. Even though it wasn’t the real Tree, it still possessed a very substantial and robust trunk. It was about 30 feet high and could easily withstand the weight of a couple dozen grown adults, if they ever had the inclination to climb this dream tree from within my own mind, Alexys thought wryly. As they reached the ground level of this miniature Great Tree, the little boy let go of her hand and latched onto the tree base itself. He turned back to her and said, “Play?” again while pointing upward. Bounce, bounce. Instantly, Lexy’s mothering instincts came out. “Uh, little one, I don’t think it’s safe to climb--” but it was clear the little boy wasn’t really listening to her. And even faster than a real toddler could climb, he scrambled up and out of her reach in a flash, giggling with childish abandon. She kept pleading with this child to stop and to come back down instead, that he might get injured, but he clearly had no intention of heeding her. Not only that, she didn’t even know his name. One thing was certain -- he definitely did not answer to ‘Horace’. Poor Alexys hoped this nightmare of a fearless toddler wasn’t an omen of things yet to come. She fleetingly considered just tearing off her petticoats and skirts to climb and then realized it wouldn’t matter anyway; she was nearly nine months pregnant and thus not climbing anything that day. “Look!” She suddenly heard the little boy’s voice again. This time, he was speaking from some 30 feet overhead through the tree boughs. Alexys moved away from the Great Tree’s base to a better vantage point further out from the trunk. Shielding her eyes from the sun, the queen looked up at the tree to see that the little boy was now pointing out toward the opposite direction of the crevasse from where they originally came. In the distance, she could see what looked to be a miniature version of the impassable mountain range between the Dark Kingdom and the Great Tree. Just beyond was Black Crystal Valley and in the center of the valley, an exact copy of The Dark Palace, only much smaller. What happened next was nothing short of absolute surreality on toast. “Look!” said the little boy’s voice again, still giggling as he climbed even higher until it looked like he was physically standing on the canopy leaves of the fake Great Tree. Lexy’s breath caught in her throat as this little boy reached up and plucked a literal piece out of the sun -- yes, he plucked a PIECE out of the actual SUN -- straight out of the actual sky. The light emanating from the Sun and the Shard he had in hand didn’t seem to be affecting the little boy the way it was affecting Alexys. She was shielding her face from its overpowering brightness when suddenly, the little boy wasn’t in the tree canopy anymore. In the blink of an eye, he was standing miraculously in front of her. Alexys blinked incredulously and tried not to yell aloud in shock due to being so startled. She failed at not yelling, but at least the little boy didn’t appear to notice. Next, this little boy held out the Sun Shard toward Lexy. He must’ve done something to help it because now she could look toward its brilliance without being blinded. “You can finally see my friend!” her boy said happily. Bounce, bounce. “We hug her!” he continued, holding the glowing object against his heart, rocking back and forth a few times. “And we kiss her,” and he gave the Shard his sweet toddler kisses. “And we be very soft,” he toddler-whispered, demonstrating deft touch through voice as well as action.“Now you!” he insisted, his pudgy hand offering the Sun Shard to her. Bouncy, bouncy, bounce. “I -- I don’t know. Won’t it burn me?” This dream had already gone so warped, she didn’t feel too weird for asking. Lexy was somewhat concerned with accepting the offerings of a toddler but he didn’t appear to be covered in slobber or any other mystery substances, thank goodness. Neither did the Shard. “Burn you?” the child echoed. He suddenly burst into giggles and said, “Silly Mama.” Lexy’s breath caught in her throat. Mama. He actually said it! How her mother’s heart fluttered. This….this interaction required something extra special. She oh-so-carefully got down on her knees (no small feat in her condition) so she could be level with her son. “Yes, your mama can be very silly sometimes,” Lexy acknowledged. Then she pointed toward the Shard in his hands and said, “Will you show me how?” Instantly, he came to her and passed the precious glowing object to Alexys. “Hold her here,” instructed her little boy, pointing toward his heart. Lexy was surprised to discover that the Shard wasn’t a shard at all -- and while it was very warm to the touch, it wasn’t burning hot. Pliable with only mild bit of give to it….rather like warmed sealing wax without the tackiness. Upon tucking the glowing object next to her bosom, Lexy looked upward at her boy and said, “and now I…” “Cradle,” followed by his rapid rocking back and forth motions. Bouncy-bounce bounce. “Of course,” smiled Alexys, who had arranged both her arms to cradle this golden drop of sunlight. “Is that what you are now? Not a Shard -- but a Drop of Sunlight?” She was now talking to this object but again didn’t feel one bit silly for doing so. It seemed….alive, somehow. Slowly, carefully, she rocked back and forth while on her knees. “Sing, mama!” prompted her little boy, who was excitedly bouncing on his toes and clapping his chubby hands. A time-honored German lullaby sprang to mind and as she sang the words, the longer she sang, something rather remarkable happened. As Alexys looked down in her arms, she could’ve sworn she saw a ghost of an image, not more than a sparkling golden shadow really, of a completely different child in her arms. Only this child was much tinier and younger than the boy. This was an infant, a baby girl, one with remarkably long flowing golden hair. She appeared to have even more hair than her toddler son. By orders of magnitude more. Disembodied babygirl giggling and babbles filled the air around them. “You see her now!!!” Her little boy was more excited than ever! He clearly knows! Lexy could hear the rhythm of his feet in front of her. Bounce-bounce-bouncy bounce-bouncy-bounce. Alexys was afraid to look away, lest the wispy golden dust in her arms blow away before she could get her fill. “Who is she?” questioned Alexys in awe. “She is our friend. She is….Sun...shine. Yes. Sunshine,” the boy confirmed, tilting his head to one side as he spoke, as if he were listening for something only he could hear. ......to be continued!!!!......

#Eugene appreciation week #Eugene Fitzherbert appreciation week #fanfiction #fic #ficlet #WIP #eugene fitzherbert #dark queen #king edmund #ladyfawkes eugene fanfiction #ladyfawkes fanfiction

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spacegaywritings · 4 years ago

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The Wonders of Sleep - You are a Nightmare (4/5)

Summary: Remus is in another chaotic frenzy and refuses to calm down, so Virgil has to step in and convince the Dark Creativity that sleep can be fun too. At least Thomas well get to rest with this.

Tags: Remus things! Talks about murder, death, violence, inflicting pain etc on others/self (your basic favourites in intrusive thoughts), weapons, brutality, Remus, virgil, dukexiety, the duke of nonsense and bullshit, caps, angery remus, moth man/ rat man mentions, sexual innuendo, food, (eating) worms, plants, weird living conditions, disgusting room description, absolute chaos, caring about thomas, mutual care, fluff, domestic fluff, swearwords, lotsa cursing, dismissive nicknames, self harm (mention)

Tumblr : 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 . Ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / all.

My KoFi - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Story under the cut: (<2k)

A gargantuan mace hit the ground, sending splitting stones and other pieces of damaged ground flying through the heart of the imagination.

“KILL HIM, I SAY!”

Dark Creativity screeched into the air. He ripped the mace out of the ground with great effort and immediately struck the ground with a loud war scream.

His deafening screams and yells filled the vast emptiness of the mindscape. Other than that, the slightly more silent noise of Remus consistently breaking and devastating the rocks and mountains of the desert he was in.

“Thomas just needs to get a simple baseball bat and SMASH HIS SKULL IN!”

Remus repeated his motion of shattering the bleeding ground as he hurled his mace out and behind his back for the maximum amount of swinging power science would give him.

“No more PAY! No more BILLS!”

He worked the mace down into the ground, his whole body following the movement. His upper body went down with the large weapon and stopped just shy of the unsteady ground, splitting it.

A growl could be heard. It erupted from the depths of the ground could as the dark floor slowly drove itself away from one another in two halves.

The Duke’s rage had halved the currently imagined world.

He freed his mace and brought it back to his chest. One of his hands brushed over the end of it, the one without stabby spikes! Still a pretty side, to Remus.

A little light bubble, dark pink, grew at said end with a bit of distance to the stick-part itself.

Remus shook the mace, letting the spikes give way to nothing but a long, black stick. Once the hurty spikes were gone, he YEETED the consistently expanding bubble in front of him and repeated.

“KILL HIM!”

The bubble manifested itself in the air, sticking to the invisible laws of the Duke’s whimsy. Slowly, a picture started to fade onto the dark background. Thomas could be seen, holding a bat. It was just as Remus had predicted.

The scene became crystal clear and with a simple snip of his fingers, Thomas moved as if trapped in the gifset of a violent mind. He bashed into his head, again, again, again and again as Remus chanted in moral support.

“GO! YES! GO! AGAIN! MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE-”

“Remus.”

The Imagination shifted at once, the bubbling magma morphing into a small river while the dark ground, the stones and rocks and destruction turned into a field of grass.

While the air remained heavy, the bubble popped and Remus’ stick became nothing but an elegant twig.

“Why are you up so late?”

Creativity growled in response and shook his body like a wet dog. His flouncy outfit floated as if in timelapse.

“Why are you up so late? Stop asking me silly questions. I am creating.”

Virgil hopped over the small river and turned to look directly at the raging side.

“You look as if you are pouting”, he stated calmly, much like Logan would, “what got ya stinki mood up, poopy boy?”

Remus glared back at the smaller side and cleared his throat. He bowed to pick up his twig.

“My mace.”

That was definitely a pout. Remus’ lips were pursed into a pout, even his words seemed to pout despite his sentence being so short of them.

The mustache seemed to stretch his face into a long, sad face. Maybe he was actually manipulating his appearance, maybe the facial hair really put an extra emphasis after all.

“You are the Duke of Creativity. If you want it back, you do that. Now, how about we give this financial discussion a break and fucking chill for a minute.”

Remus threw the twig away and shook his head, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Yeah, you would like that. How about Thomathy here gets it on with a hot dude and I will shut up?”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“We could eat that cockroach Thomathy squished this morning! I will get it from the trash!”

The Duke started running for time before the other could even react. Anxiety kicked in, shifting the imagination in a way, they found themselves in Remus’ messy bedroom.

A huge vine came out of the closet and ended mid-room before the bed.. or whatever one wanted to call the mess of clothing. There was a glowing blue trail of splatter on the floor. Weapons and.. hair??? were cluttered all over the floor.

Virgil could hear a distant slapping of meat.

The floorboards seemed rather loose and rattled.

“My room! ROOM ROOM ROOM!”

Remus drew Virgil close.

“Emo! Look at my plant! It is really cute! It will love you!”

Virgil clung to the ever-changing mess of ideas and shook his head.

“I want to sleep, Remus. Shut up and go to sleep with me. You can wreck havoc and reek tomorrow but Thomas needs to sleep or else he will be shit in the morning.”

The man in question bounced.

“If I make Thomathy beat up himself, he will look like shit for sure!!!”

The emo rolled his eyes and nudged Remus towards the bed. He had not even expected the room to look as bad. Maybe he should have taken this to the living-room or literally any space that had a comfortable ground to lay on. He was a metaphysical being who could not really perceive pain after all - the choice to sleep was really just allowing Thomas to deal with things more calmly, at least in the case of Anxiety. Also, only given that Virgil did not deliberately clock out in order to spare Thomas any effect from his side.

“Nah, that is work. Work sucks. We wanna sleep forever and eat weird shit, right?”

Remus grumbled.

At heart, he sort of agreed. Right now, he was driven to do things, to be active and creative or destroy and simply do as much as he could because he had that energy.

“Nap time, Dukey.”

Virgil tugged him towards the bed.

“Oh, Virgil ~ I did not know you were into this kind of thing ~”

The addressed side blushed but shook his head.

“In your dreams, fucker.”

He stepped closer to the unmoving wall of Creativity. Confidently, he let their chests collide, sending Remus backwards.

The wavering Duke gasped in surprise and squeaked insolently.

“EmO!”, he screeches with a voice that got scratchier and scratchier by the minute. His arms flailed into any direction until he drew them in front of his chest to cross them.

“How can you be cunning and cunt-y?”

Virgil could hear his brain yell a conditioned “language!” response at him. He literally heard Patton scold Remus in his brain. Judging from the sour look on the other’s face, the anxious trait assumed he could hear it too.

“Now you know how tiring it can be to hear something in you, that you can’t stop? Pretty fucking shitty, huh? Move, babysitting you is tiring.”

The reveal of a long, pink tongue was the response but Remus kicked off his boots and patted his clothings until they dissolved into some sort of magical glitter dust. It silently trickled down onto the floor and was blown into all directions of the room.

This place really had a mind of its own. Not that Virgil really minded this.

“Good Remus”, Virgil praised softly as he joined the other on the bed. They laid down together and Virgil kicked a bundle of weapons and books off the bed, “oops. My bad. I thought it was your pet raccoon.”

Remus giggled.

“No! That is you!”

Virgil shook his head, grinning into his oversized mess of a self-ruined jacket. The Duke looked at him in his own naked glory and patted the space next to him. To join him on the fun, he eyed the stack of his dirty single socks collection and gave it a strong kick.

“PARTY!”

“Nooo, nap time. We wanted to be nice to Thomas and fuck shit up tomorrow.”

Creativity blinked at Virgil. A rare occasion. The blinking and directly looking at someone. He usually just stared into something nobody but him could see. It was chilling and so deeply terrifying, Thomas would feel it in his bones when anyone but Logan or the (former) Others interacted with him.

“You will join me?”

Virgil threw his head back as he slowly snuggled up to Remus, filling the spot he had previously patted. A groan escaped his lips and he let his head roll against Remus’ shoulder.

Instead of answering, he clapped his hands together, summoning a little bowl he thrusted into Remus’ hands.

The bowl was full of little gummy worms which looked surprisingly disgusting with how slimy and wet they appeared to be. They had a certain shine to them and the colour was so unnaturally neon orange, they were glowing in the dim lighting of the Duke’s room.

“Have a cursed snack and get your creative energy into a fucked up sex dream instead of making Thomas uncomfortable. He’s got some shit to do tomorrow.”

Silence took over the room.

Virgil caused some rustling sounds as he curled up next to Remus. The room was surprisingly un-stinky compared to what he had expected.

Loud chewing sounds interrupted the momentary silence.

It was good while it lasted but Virgil was willing to trade his own discomfort for the sake of Thomas’ well-being. He needed his sleep with another tough schedule coming up.

“Virgil?”

He hummed in response.

“Are you anxious because of the new projects they planned?”

The former dark side curled further into himself, shaking his head stubbornly.

Chewing sounds continued for a bit until Remus took a small break and suddenly snapped his head back and emptied the whole bowl into his mouth. Without even moving his jaw to chew, he swallowed his big ball of cursed sweets and made a lewd lip-smacking sound.

Virgil opened his mouth to comment on how disgusting the other was but he interrupted him.

“Come cuddle. It is okay to be scared. I will eat your mean anxiety.”

He shook his head. The Duke turned to pull Virgil into a hug. The anxious side chuckled.

“This is not how I work.”

“Yeah, but it is how I work.”

“Whatever, Remus. Shut up if you wanna cuddle, you rat man.”

It was Remus’ turn to chuckle.

“You just wish I was moth man!”

Virgil shook his head, smirking into Remus’ neck. He finally allowed himself to close his eyes and hold onto the other.

It was silent.

For real.

Within minutes, Remus was asleep and Virgil was ever so silently snoring, nobody could hear it.

#ts remus #remus sanders #fanfiction #fanfic #fanficion #fanfic fluff #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides virgil #virgil sanders #joey writes #domestic fluff #Fluffy Fic #fluff

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quinnybee-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Title: Fire Meet Gasoline

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Rating: T+

Part: 2/?

Story Summary: A chance encounter between a villain and vigilante leads to an unwise deal made between unlikely allies; an unwise deal made between unlikely allies ends in a final stand neither would have ever dared to take on alone. Together, though, they just might have a fighting chance.

Part 2 Summary: Civilian life gets a bit more uncivil as far-flung paths start to cross.

Part 1 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 2 on AO3

Hizashi pushed himself to the edge of his limit, legs pumping and chest burning for breath as he ran. His end goal was in sight, clear as day in from of him, but even as he closed in on it, it seemed impossibly far away.

“One twenty-eight point nine. You’re keeping a good pace with yourself,” Haruko announced, clicking the button on her stopwatch.

Hizashi staggered to a stop, hands behind his head as he caught his breath. “Dammit,” he muttered. His sister might have been impressed by his consistency but the lack of progress was frustrating. He didn’t want to admit it, but that vigilante from the other night had him rattled. Hizashi was used to outfoxing people bound by regulations that kept them and everyone around them safe but tied their hands when it came to someone like him. The vigilante, however, could meet him on an even playing field and was faster, more agile, and unflinchingly tenacious. Hizashi had to admit he was almost excited to meet up with the vigilante again for the thrill of it, but he was aware that his last escape had been more blind luck than skill. He was going to have to step up his own game monumentally to keep one step ahead.

“C’mon, Zash, don’t get yourself down,” Haru said, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Even if you are plateauing, it’s at a good place. There’s no glory in ripping yourself apart for a couple extra seconds.”

Hizashi sighed but nodded, knowing she was right. He was about to say he was ready to reset and go again when there was a flurry of movement and chatter outside the training room door.

“What in the world?” Haru muttered, sticking her head out into the hall. “Hey, Megumi, what gives?” she asked, waving down one of the other trainers as they passed by.

“Some guy’s showing off in the parkour room,” Megumi replied with a shrug.

“Oh. It is about that time, isn’t it?” Haru said, checking her watch.

“What’s going on?” Hizashi asked, intrigued in spite of himself. Haru grinned at him.

“We’re being haunted,” she said by way of non-explanation. When he just stared back at her blankly Haru laughed and nodded down the hall. “C’mon, we’ll take a break and I’ll show you.”

They followed the trickle of people to a large plate glass window that overlooked another larger training room. The room was entirely taken up by a huge foam-and-plywood climbing structure full of sheer walls, sharp drops, and metal chin-up bars stuck in at odd angles. Making an impressive run of the place was a broad-shouldered man in all black workout gear, his dark hair in a short tangled ponytail at the back of his neck. It wasn’t until the man did an impressive leap over a waist-height wall that ended in a rolling landing back on his feet and almost immediately pressed a hand to the left side of his chest with a grimace that Hizashi recognized the vigilante from a few nights ago.

“Who is that?” he asked, trying to keep the question casual.

“No idea,” Haru shrugged. “Dude’s a machine, though. Every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday he swipes himself in at four, does a few miles on the suspended track, and then tears it up on the parkour course for an hour and a half. Swipes himself out at six-thirty like clockwork. Never talks to anyone, never rents a locker, no-nothing. If he’s got a name hell if any of us know what it is. We just call him The Ghost.”

“Huh.” Hizashi smirked a little to himself, watching as the vigilante squared his shoulders and began his run again. The man kept an impressively low profile for someone so notorious. Hizashi wondered if he could find a way to sneak into the gym’s registration logs and put a name to the face after all. His musing was interrupted by Haru holding up her water bottle under his nose and giving it a proffering waggle. “I’m good, thanks,” Hizashi said, shaking his head.

“You sure? You were looking a little thirsty,” Haru said, grinning.

Hizashi glowered at her, snatching the bottle out of her hand and squirting her in the face with it. “Hardy-har. Asshole,” he muttered. Haru just laughed.

“All right, break time’s over, slacker. You still owe me four more shuttle runs and a round on the weight machines,” she said, using the hem of Hizashi’s teeshirt to dry her face off.

Hizashi groaned. “I’m telling Mom,” he whined as they turned away from the window and headed back to the training room.

“It’d be the first time you called her in, like, four months, so.” Haru shrugged. “I’ll take what I can get at this point.”

Hizashi grimaced, the casual disappointment in her voice scraping him raw. “Way to kick me when I’m down, Haru,” he said.

Haru sighed, mouth twisting into a half-apologetic frown. “Look, Zash. We both know you get up to some shit that you don’t want the rest of us involved in and that’s fine. It’s not fine,” she corrected herself, “but it’s fine. It’s just. Knowing that and having you fall off the planet for months at a time...kinda freaks me out, y’know? I’m not saying you have to check in every hour on the hour or anything but more often than Christmas, New Years, and birthdays wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Hizashi muttered. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just keep it in mind, okay?” Haru said. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders in a hug made that much tighter by her Quirk, punctuated with an encouraging smack on the back. “Now c’mon, gloomy gills. You hired me to kick your ass, so I’m gonna.”

By the third delivery of the morning Shouta was regretting not calling in again. He’d pushed himself too hard trying to get back into his normal gym routine and every inch of him was letting him know it. He slid a box of audio equipment onto a dolly, sharp little spikes of pain shooting through his back and side as he did, and wheeled it up to the radio station’s front door. Just five more hours, he reminded himself. He’d worked much longer delivery shifts in much worse condition than this. Just five more hours.

There was nobody at the station’s reception desk. Shouta sighed, shoulders sagging. He wondered if he was going to have to figure out how their paging system worked and call the package’s addressee himself. It wouldn’t be the first time, but it was always a procedural nightmare if someone got up in arms about a non-employee using their phones and decided to give his boss an earful for it.

Luckily for him there came the sound of a half-whispered swear word followed by racing footsteps from down the hall. What looked like a very embarrassed intern rushed forward with a sunny “HicanIhelpyou?”, running the words together as they dropped into the chair behind the desk and practically threw their phone and coffee mug out of sight. Their name tag said “Chiyaki” and the look on their face said “please for the love of god don’t tell my boss”.

“Solo-Falcon Deliveries, I’ve got a package for...Hizashi Yamada,” Shouta said, double-checking the name on the delivery slip.

“Okay, one sec,” Chiyaki said brightly. They pushed a speed-dial extension on the phone bank next to them. It only rang once before someone picked up.

“Yah-mada.” The voice on the other end was sing-song and familiar in a way Shouta couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Heya, boss,” Chiyaki said. “The new presentation mics are here, the delivery guy needs you to sign for them.”

“Great timing, I was just about to start boxing up the old ones! Be right there.” The voice on the other end was suddenly louder, clearer, and sounded like it was coming from just over Shouta’s shoulder. Shouta’s breath seized in his chest and his head snapped around, fully expecting to see Mockingbird standing smirking right behind him. The station lobby was completely empty other than himself, the intern, and the box he was supposed to be delivering. When Shouta turned back around Chiyaki was smiling sympathetically at him.

“He does that,” they said apologetically. “It should just be a minute.”

Shouta nodded, taken aback by their total nonchalance. He supposed it made a certain kind of sense for Mockingbird to use his Quirk as a party trick and condition the people around him not to notice it. He didn’t have much time to mull over the logistics of that, however, as a lanky figure loped its way up from the back of the station. The man perked up as he caught sight of Shouta, a grin of recognition spreading across his face.

“Oh, hey, bus stop guy!” Mockingbird said cheerfully.

Shouta blinked, momentarily confused before the words clicked into place. Bus stop, right. This was the same man he’d badgered at the bus stop in front of his apartment building the morning after his bout with Mockingbird; same long blond ponytail, same horn-rim glasses, same lanky frame and broad grin with an almost imperceptible air of smugness to it. Clever, Shouta thought ruefully.

“Solo-Falcon Deliveries,” Shouta said tonelessly, offering the clipboard to sign.

“Right, right. So, didja end up finding who you were looking for?” Mockingbird--Yamada--whoever he was asked as he dug in his pocket for his stamp.

Shouta’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah,” he said. “I think I might have.”

Yamada glanced over the clipboard at him and his cheerful expression sharpened just slightly. “Lucky you,” he said. “But more importantly lucky me,” he added, sinking back into breezy affability as he scooped up the box of equipment. “Papa needs a new podcasting setup!” He cuddled the box to his chest, rubbing his cheek against it affectionately. “Chii, I’ll be back doing teardown if anyone needs me,” he said before turning on his heel and ambling back the way he’d come.

Chiyaki watched him go, then turned back to Shouta. “I can take that,” they said, holding out a hand for the yellow carbon copy of the delivery sheet Yamada had abandoned on the clipboard. “Do you want some coffee or something?” they added.

Shouta shook his head, slowly unclenching from the full-body knot he’d stiffened into the moment Yamada had smirked at him. “No. Thanks anyway,” he said. He grabbed the handle of the dolly tightly to cover his shaking hands and turned it towards the door.

“Have a good one,” Chiyaki said.

Shouta muttered a half-coherent reply, his brain already in a hundred other places. He shouldered open the station door and walked stiff-legged out to his truck to finish his shift. Just five more hours.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #shouta aizawa #hizashi yamada #Villain!Mic #Vigilante!Aizawa #Fire Meet Gasoline AU #Quinny thinks she's a writer

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metaphorical-love-for-a-car · 6 years ago

Text

Marry You-- Joe Mazzello x Reader

Request; “How about a joe mazzello based on the song marry you by Bruno Mars? Idk” ( @hi-i-dont-know )

Warnings; some language, the song is fem! specific but the story itself isn’t

Word Count; 1.8k

Notes; sorry it's taken me so long to get around to this lol

You couldn’t believe it. You had worked so hard for so long, and you finally did it. Here you were, standing on a stage, accepting an award at a prestigious ceremony. People were clapping, and cameras were everywhere. Never in a million years did you expect this to happen.

You stuttered through your acceptance speech before scurrying back to your seat. The rest of the awards ceremony seemed to go by in a haze as you continued to try to wrap your mind around the evening. You were in desperate need of a drink, and the after party couldn’t come soon enough.

Dozens of people came up to congratulate you, and you only recognized about half of them. You quickly gulped down your drinks in an attempt to make yourself calm down. It wasn’t the wisest idea, but it was all you could do besides leaving the party, which you obviously didn’t want to do. You were tipsy, borderline drunk, and still feeling overwhelmed. That’s when he decided to approach you. The last thing you needed was your childhood celebrity crush to show up, but that’s exactly what happened.

Your first introduction to Joe Mazzello was when you watched Radio Flyer shortly after it came out, then you saw him again in Jurassic Park. Your younger self thought he was cute, thus your childhood crush formed. As years went on and the two of you started to become more successful in the world of entertainment, you had met each other once or twice, but it was always in passing. Neither of you really spoke to each other much. The most interaction the two of you had was via social media, occasionally liking each other’s posts.

Needless to say, you were worried about embarrassing yourself because you had too much alcohol in your system for your mind to properly function, and it didn’t help that you continued to drink. “I’m sure you’re going to be sick of hearing this by the end of the night, but congratulations!” Joe flashed you a bright smile. You laughed before thanking him. “Mind if I sit?” He nodded his head towards the empty stool next to yours. You shook your head.

“No, not at all!” Joe sat, and the two of you chatted about basic stuff, like ‘Have you tried the shrimp? It’s pretty good!’ or ‘I’ve been going ninety-to-nothing tonight and can’t wait to finally get home.’ You normally felt awkward during small talk, but this was nice. Maybe it was just the alcohol that was making this feel so comfortable. Maybe it was just his charming personality. Either way, you didn’t care. You were enjoying it.

“Hope I’m not bothering you. I’m sure a ton of other people would like to talk to you.” You scoffed at Joe’s comment and dramatically rolled your eyes.

“Oh, please! I’m having way more fun talking to you than I would have if I were talking to some of them. Besides, it’s not every day that you get to hang out with your age-old celebrity crush.” You brought your glass to your lips and froze. Did you seriously just say that out loud? No, surely not. You weren’t that drunk, right? You slowly lowered the glass, glancing over at Joe. Shit. You did say it out loud. His mouth was open, looking shocked. And his cheeks were red.

“You... wait. I’m your celebrity crush?” You felt the heat rising to your face and nodded. He ran a hand through his hair. “No fucking way. This is crazy. You’ve been my celebrity crush since we first met at that movie premiere a few years ago,” Joe said enthusiastically, very much resembling a child telling their friends about the cool toy they got for Christmas. You covered your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. Joe’s brows knitted together, but his goofy grin remained. “I’m serious!”

“This is too good to be true. It sounds like something out of a fanfiction book on Wattpad or Tumblr.” Joe laughed, stating his agreement. He suddenly grabbed your hand. His eyes were wide and mischief danced across his features.

“I’ve got an awesome idea, and it’ll really make life like a fanfic.” You pursed your lips, eyeing him suspiciously.

“What’re you planning, Joe?”

“It’s a surprise! Now, where’s the closest Walmart?”

Who cares if we're trashed Got a pocket full of cash we can blow Shots of Patron And it's on girl

The two of you managed to find an Uber at the ungodly hour of the morning it was. People gave you odd looks when you first walked into the store. Some because they recognized the two of you, and some because you were both in incredibly formal attire... while drunk shopping in Walmart. You headed straight towards the candy, and Joe disappeared. As you were paying for the mountain of candy in your arms, you felt someone tap on your shoulder. It was Joe, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “You okay?” you snickered, grabbing the plastic bag from the worker before thanking her.

'Cause it's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you Is it the look in your eyes or is it this dancing juice Who cares baby, I think I wanna marry you

“Actually, there’s something important I want to ask you.” You raised a brow at him, and he took a deep breath. When Joe got down on one knee, your jaw dropped. He pulled out a ring that had a little silver frog on top, its back made of a green gem. “Let’s continue with the fanfiction themed night, shall we?” You laughed, nodding. Joe beamed up at you and slid the ring onto your finger.

“Is this actually happening right now?” you asked in between laughs. Joe shrugged.

“Dunno. That sounds like something for our sober selves to figure out. Wanna check out the Redbox movies?”

I'll go get a ring Let the choir bell sing like ooh So what you wanna do Let's just run girl If we wake up and you want to break up That's cool No, I won't blame you It was fun girl

Your head was pounding. Bringing a hand to your face, you rubbed your eyes before squinting them open. How much did you drink last night? You could hardly remember a thing... that is until you realized you weren’t in your hotel room, nor were you alone. An arm was wrapped around your waist, and the person’s head was nuzzled against your back. Fucking shit. Your mind was reeling, trying to remember what had happened. A part of your mind tried to rationalize that maybe you didn’t hook up with someone. After all, you were still dressed. Then again... the sweats and baggy shirt didn’t belong to you.

You were worried about waking whoever was beside you. You were desperate to avoid any awkward and embarrassing interactions. Slowly reaching out, you went to pull your phone off of the bedside table. That’s when you noticed the ring. Your breath got caught in your throat as a sudden sense of urgency flooded your system. You tried to turn your phone on, but a black screen stared back at you. Of course, it was dead. Well, there was only one thing you could do. You started peeling yourself from the person’s grasp. As you did, the person stirred. When you were finally able to turn and look at them, it felt like someone dumped a bucket of rocks into your stomach. “Damn... my head’s killin’ me,” Joe groaned while rubbing his face. Your mouth open and closed. You couldn’t think of anything to say. Joe removed his hands, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes widened. “Oh my god...” was all the could muster up.

“Joe, what the hell happened last night?” You showed him your hand, and his face reddened.

“Well... I-- uh-- don’t remember much. I don’t think we had sex, but I don’t know about that.” He pointed at the ring. Joe quickly sat up, snatching his phone from the floor. Thankfully, it had been charging.

He had multiple missed calls and unopened text messages from his friends, most of which said something along the lines of ‘Joe, what the hell is going on? Is this real?’ Joe swiped through his camera roll, but most of the pictures were goofy selfies or short videos of the two of you wandering around Walmart. It didn’t really offer much information. You suggested looking through your social media accounts. Lo and behold, it was the jackpot. Your twitter was filled with cringe-worthy levels of cheesy and sappy pickup lines, all of which had Joe tagged in them. He responded to a few, but his replies only consisted of various heart emojis. Joe’s Instagram story had dozens of photos and videos of you two, most of which you had already seen in his camera roll. Then there was one post that had the caption ‘I liked it so I put a ring on it (guess we’re engaged now)’, and you had commented ‘#couplegoals’. You decided to take a look into your own Instagram account, clicking through the story photos you remembered posting. When it finally got to something new, you couldn’t help the butterflies that formed in your chest.

It was a video of Joe, laying in bed next to you. Your head was on his chest, and you had an arm draped across his torso. You were out cold, and Joe had a soft smile on his face. “(Y/N) fell asleep in the middle of our Night At The Museum marathon, so I decided to hack their insta.” He glanced down at you, his smile growing even wider. “They’re so adorable, even when they’re snoring like a freight train. But don’t let them know that I told you guys that,” he said the last part with a serious expression. Joe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, then the video ended.

“So I guess we got engaged,” you mumbled, examining the little frog ring on your finger. “We know that much happened.”

“What now?” Joe asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You glanced at him, and he was idly tracing a pattern into the bed’s comforter.

“Well, first, I think we should get some breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Then maybe we could start with a date and see how that goes?” Joe looked up, meeting your gaze. A smile spread across his lips.

“I like that plan.”

Don't say no no no no no Just say yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah And we'll go go go go go If you're ready, like I'm ready

Just say I do Tell me right now baby Tell me right now baby, baby Just say I do Tell me right now baby Tell me right now baby, baby

Tag List;

@mothermercuryy @mmmmmitslikeadiseaseson

#request #joe mazzello #joe mazello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody x reader

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thejollyroger-writer · 6 years ago

Text

Keep Hope Close at Hand - Chapter Nine

a/n: Happy Friday! Happy spring break! Enjoy this chapter from Emma’s point of view! I’m hoping to crank out some more during the week!

Start at the Beginning: tumblr // AO3

Previous Chapter: tumblr // AO3

As always, you can find the entirety of the story under its tag on my tumblr.

Also on AO3!

Tags: @shireness-says@wellhellotragic@flyflyangel@stahlop@superchocovian@kingofmyheart14@drkeldonmd@darkcolinodonorgasm@profdanglaisstuff@pirateherokillian@captainsjedi @let-it-raines

Want to be added or removed? Let me know!

Emma doesn’t know what to do. Sitting in the front seat of Neal’s car, she watches as Graham helps Neal into the back of the police cruiser, resting her forehead against the steering wheel.

When did everything fall apart? For years, everything was fine. She was happy, with her little family. Her and Henry and Neal. She was happy. Henry was happy.

But, sitting in the driver’s seat of Neal’s car as he is arrested for a drunk and disorderly, she finds herself wondering about him. Was Neal ever happy? In all the years she’s known him, has he ever truly seemed happy? She leans back, slamming her head into the back of the seat and gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles go white, trying to find one happy memory between her and Neal. Why has she gone this long, believing she is happy, when there is no evidence to back it up?

She raises her eyes, needing to think about something other than the chaos that her life has become, but what she finds does not make it any better. Or, better, it does make it better, and that somehow makes it worse.

Because there stands Killian, a few feet away from Graham, who is now climbing behind the wheel of the police cruiser. Killian, who has somehow been there for her more in the past week than anyone has been her entire life. Killian, who she feels she knows better than anyone, even though that’s entirely impossible, never having met him before just a week before.

Killian, who she has too many feelings around to deal with right now.

So she shifts the car into drive and leaves the dock behind, fighting against herself from looking into the rear view mirror.

What the hell happened?

She tries to think back. She was fourteen when she came to Storybrooke, having run away from her last foster family, the Swans. And before that, there was the… she can’t remember anything beyond that. Is that normal? She certainly hopes not. If that were normal, then her son would remember nothing about this point in his life by the time he reached her age.

She was fifteen when she met Neal, being in town for just a few months when the Nolans insisted she finished her schooling while she was here. They had a class together. History? No, English.

It couldn’t have been English. She was always ahead of him in English.

It must have been math. With…

Now that she’s thinking about it, she can’t remember any of her teachers in school. She doesn’t remember graduating. Why didn’t she go to college?

Shouldn’t she have gone to college?

Without paying attention to where it was she was going, Emma turns her attention to her surroundings to realize that her conscience has brought her back home, the home she has built with Neal and Henry. Even though she knows that neither of them are there, Henry with David and Mary Margaret and Neal on his way to jail.

But when her mind takes her to the next location — the station — she decides it’s the best place for her to be. She can lock herself in David’s office and bury herself in a few hours’ worth of paperwork to clear her mind.

Or, at least, that’s what she tells herself. But when she actually gets there, having asked Graham to make sure the blinds were closed so she could get in without Neal's noticing, but once she gets there, she realizes that all she can think about is Neal.

She knows that there has to be a good memory somewhere back there, a thought that she absolutely should not be caught up on, but that she finds herself focused on nonetheless. Why else would she have spent so long with a man that never made her happy? A man that, no matter how hard she tries, she cannot find one memory of a time when he was happy?

Why does she have a son with a man that she obviously does not love?

That thought sends a shiver down her spine, a shiver accompanied with another thought: she can’t think of the last time Neal was affectionate towards her. Sure, they shared kisses on days they actually saw each other, but beyond that? She can’t even think of the last time Neal told her that he loved her when he wasn’t trying to make up for something idiotic he had done.

And this thought, somehow, leads her to another face, a set of bright blue eyes that she has not failed to notice are consistently full of affection for her.

But she can’t go there right now.

Still.

Again.

She keeps trying to find something to do — paperwork just won’t cut it, so she tries turning on some music and reorganizing the file cabinet, something David has been asking her to do for a few months.

Thankfully, this works. Not only does it work, in fact, but it takes a few hours, and when she looks up at the clock over his desk, it’s almost six o’clock.

Shit. She was supposed to have dinner with David and Mary Margaret an hour ago. Why did no one call her? Looking at her phone to confirm, she finds this to be true. Not a single call from David or Mary Margaret, which is out of character for both of them.

In fact, she only has two notifications, two back-to-back text messages from Killian, and one from Graham:

Graham: Come talk to me before you leave

Killian: If you need anything, let me know.

Killian: Please.

It’s too much for her. All of this is too much for her, she realizes, and she was supposed to leave an hour ago anyway. But, to satisfy her curiosity, she peeks through the blinds, wondering what Graham needs from her, and why he couldn’t have just come in himself and talked to her.

And then she thinks about it, realizing that if he were in her place, she would not want to bother him, either.

But, peeking out into the rest of the station, something is off. Something is missing, and though she doesn’t realize it right away, when she does, she feels her chest tighten: Neal.

Neal is missing. Gone. No longer in the cell.

“Graham, what’s happened?” she asks, closing the door to David’s office behind her.

When he turns to her, he looks startled, as if he forgot she was in the office. After the moment he needs to compose himself, he takes a deep breath, then starts. “Regina came in about two hours ago, in a rage. To be honest, I’m surprised you didn’t hear her. She insisted that we needed to let him go, that we had nothing to hold him on, and there was nothing I could do, I had to release him.”

Emma’s head falls, her chin resting on her chest for a moment as she squeezes her eyes closed, taking a deep breath.

“Thanks, Graham,” she says finally, already trying to decide what that means for her.

All she knows is that she has no idea.

Going to David and Mary Margaret’s does not help, especially when she walks in to find that her son has already been picked up.

Once she fills David in on the whole story, stopping him from fuming with anger when he asks why she waited this long to tell him everything. Because, if she’s being honest with herself, she has no idea why she didn’t call him, has no idea why it never even crossed her mind.

“If Killian was there, why didn’t he tell me when he came to pick up Hope?”

“I can’t speak for Killian’s actions, David,” she groans, running her fingers through her hair as she tries to keep herself from breaking down.

“That does explain some things, though,” David says after a moment, his voice much softer.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, he seemed upset when he picked up Henry. Angry about something." He shrugs. "You know, more so than usual.”

For some reason, this statement makes Emma wince — why is this a regularity in her life?

“And then he said something to me, about not knowing how much longer the two of you would be together?”

Emma sits down at the table, if only to be able to set her head in her hands. “I don’t know when this started, David. But I do — I think it’s almost over.”

She tries her hardest not to continue to think about it on her way home, so she does the only thing she can think to do: she turns up the radio, focusing instead on the lyrics of the songs to try to keep her mind away from anything that’s happened over the past few days. When she pulls into the driveway, she discovers that her hands have started shaking somewhere between the Nolan’s and here. She’s not sure what to think, what to expect, so after she wipes her hands on her jeans and downs half of the water bottle rolling around her backseat, she makes her way to the door.

At first, she doesn’t hear anything, which is almost more terrifying than anything she was expecting. And then, she starts to hear it, the soft bass of the music coming from Neal’s office on the other side of the house, the croon of Mick Jagger's voice that has come to sound like nails on the chalkboard to her.

The Stones coming from Neal’s office can only mean one of two things: he’s working, or he’s drinking. And she would bet everything she owned that it’s one over the other.

She knows that she will have to talk to him at some point, face him head on — but she also knows that the last thing she is doing tonight, or for as long as she can make work, is sleeping in the same bed as him.

And she is going to take her son with her.

So, as quietly as she can, she makes her way up to Henry’s room, where he is sitting at the foot of his bed playing one of his video games. When he hears her come in, he quickly pauses it before turning towards the door. There are red rings around his eyes, plus the tip of his nose, and when he realizes that it’s her, his eyes widen, his expression turning to one of excitement.

“Mom!” he says, jumping up from the floor to rush over to her and wrap his arms around her waist.

“Hey, kid,” she says, squeezing him back.

They stand like that for a moment, simply thankful that the other is there, but then Emma pulls back, resting her hands on his shoulders.

“Can you tell me about what happened today?”

He takes a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes as she sits down on the edge of his bed, and he follows.

“When he came to pick me up from the Nolan’s, he was yelling. He kept saying things about how he was going to lose you soon, how he knew that there was someone else you wanted to be with and it was going to tear our family apart. That you don’t care about us anymore.”

Emma wants to cut in, make sure that Henry knows that none of it is true, but she stops herself. He needs a chance to speak for himself, without being stopped by anyone. His day has been rough enough.

“And then we got in the car, and he was still yelling. I knew he wasn’t yelling at me, but it felt like he was. Yelling about how you don’t love us anymore, how you just want to leave and leave us here. I knew all of it was wrong, that you would never do that, but it still upset me. And then, when we got home, he went right into his office without saying anything else.”

Once his words stop coming, Emma reaches out to pull him into her arms again.

“I would never leave you with him,” she says, rubbing circles on his back.

“I know, mom.”

When she realizes that she is crying, she knows the time has come to confront Neal. Backing away from Henry, she attempts to smile down at him. “Pack your pajamas and a few changes of clothes, plus whatever else you’ll need for a few days”

“Where are we going to go?”

Reaching up to wipe the tears off her cheeks, she shakes her head. “I’m not sure yet, but we’re not staying here.”

Henry nods, already reaching down to pull his duffel bag out from under his bed. If Emma was paying more attention, not tied up by the knots of thoughts in her head, she would have asked him about the storybook that came out with it, but it never crosses her mind.

As quickly as she can, she does the same thing in her own bedroom, terrified that Neal would hear her through the floor and come up to confront her. But as she stuffs a few changes of clothes, her phone charger, and some toiletries into her worn grey backpack, she hears nothing.

Making her way to his office, she knocks softly on the door before letting herself in, knowing full well that he did not hear her.

“Neal?” she asks, trying her keep her voice as even as she can.

But when she steps through the door, she sees him sitting there in his desk chair, his arms crossed over his chest. In front of him sits a half-empty bottle of Johnny Walker.

“What do you want?” he asks, his words half-slurred as he reaches under his desk to turn down the music.

“I just want to talk to you. I wanted to apologize for what happened today, for whatever I’ve done that’s angered you.”

She expects some kind of response, but she gets none. All he does is sit there, arms folded over his chest as he stares up at her, unmoving.

“And to let you know that I’m going to stay somewhere else for the next few days. You and I have some problems we need to work out, but I think we need to take some time for ourselves before we can do that.”

He still says nothing.

She watches as his nostrils flare, his emotionless face suddenly covered with rage, but his eyes aren’t set on her anymore. Instead, they’ve moved to the doorway behind her. The only explanation is that Henry walked past the doorway with his duffel bag and he saw it.

“And you’re going to take my son away from me?” he asks finally, his voice much smaller than she expected.

“I don’t think he should stay here with you, no.”

Suddenly, he pushes himself to his feet, his chair flying backwards fast enough to knock a few books down on the shelf behind him when it comes in contact with it. Emma takes a step back.

She expects his voice to to loud, to carry through the whole house the way it tended to do when he got angry, but instead, the words come out through clenched teeth, almost too soft for her to hear over the music. “You better find a good place to stay, because there’s no way in hell I’m just letting you and my son walk out of my life.”

But that’s exactly what she does. Turning on her heel, she hitches the backpack further up onto her shoulder, trying her hardest to keep her back straight, to not slouch. Thankfully, Henry is waiting for her by the front door, everything he needs packed in the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Both of them stay silent as they pack into the car, but once Emma has backed out of the driveway and is on the road, Henry finally turns to her.

“Mom, where are we going to go?”

Pulling her bottom lip up between her teeth, she shakes her head. She really has no idea.

#khcah #keep hope close at hand #my writing #wordsbymeganmichael #cs ff #cs fics #captain swan #captain swan ff #ouat #ouat ff #canon rewrite #cursed storybrooke #cursed emma #cursed everyone but killian and the kids #another birthday present for Devon: emma with feelings

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