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footprintsinthesxnd · 1 year

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The Good Die Young

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Warnings: mentions of graphic themes, war, injury, weapons, sexual images, language, 18+. Pairings: Jake Seresin x f!reader Disclaimer: This is a series reflecting on the true events of the US Marines in WW2. All of the characters are fictional and not based off are original characters (except for Jake Seresin) and they are not representations of the real, brave men who fought in WW2. I have tried to make all the events in this series as accurate as possible but please bare in mind this is fanfiction and i have added/ changed certain things to fit with this. Special thanks to the lovely Fern @desert-fern for proofreading this chapter for me.

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Melbourne, January 1943

Jovial music filled the air, dancing over the way of American soldiers as the ship docked in Melbourne. The local band was playing music standing, their big bass drum booming loudly over the noise of the crowd. Women, children and boys too young to fight and men too old to fight lined the streets, cheering, flags waving frantically as the soldiers disembarked. Jake had never seen such a welcome. It was a welcome sight after the horrors of Guadalcanal.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Johnny barked, letting out a loud shout as he joined in, waving to a group of young boys on their bikes following behind the trucks.

The trucks lurched and groaned under the weight of the troops as the convoy pulled to a stop outside the large red cricket stadium. The men were ordered to disembark, collecting the few possessions they had and their kit bags before forming orderly queues and following the Commanding Officer up the steps towards the light. The men bumped and shoved each other, each one vying for first in a race unknown to them all. Jake was slammed into one of the metal railings, hissing as his ribs made contact with the cold, rigid bar, sending sparks through his chest

Jake shielded his eyes from the bright sunshine as he entered the vomitorium, his eyes landing on his fellow Marines, all taking their seats on small beds on the bleachers.

“Welcome to Camp Murphy,” the CO began, talking through the megaphone that he’d somehow acquired. “Stay with your Company, pick a bed and drop your belongings. Chow is in an hour. You are not permitted to leave the stadium without a pass or unless you are instructed to do so by a senior officer.”

Jake found an empty bed and threw down his kit bag, sighing loudly and stretching his aching back. George sat down on the bed next to him while Frank, Johnny and Edward all followed suit. Johnny fell face-first onto his cot with a loud groan, pulling the pillow over his head to block out the wall of noise that surrounded them all. “I could sleep for a year.”

Frank let out a muffled laugh, pulling the cigarette from the corner of his mouth. “So you’re telling me that later when we all disperse into town in the cover of darkness, you won’t come with us.”

Johnny peeked out from behind his pillow. “Will there be alcohol?” He asked, his voice small and filled with a childlike wonder.

“Obviously,” Frank retorted, causing the others to laugh as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Then count me in.” Johnny sat up, rubbing his eyes as if he’d woken from a long sleep.

Once the MPs had cleared out of the main cricket ground, the Marines flooded the streets of Melbourne, most headed to the local bars, some went into shops and a few even went down to the movie theatre. The boys of How Company found the nearest pub and vowed to drink to their heart's content. Jake joined in watching as Johnny and Frank poured every possible alcohol into a glass and downed it in one, their faces contorting comically at the bitter taste. George sat in the corner nursing his beer while Edward was talking to the pretty young barmaid. Jake finished his beer and stood slowly, “I’m going to have a wander around, see what’s about?” The comrades barely acknowledged him, too consumed in their next round of alcohol.

“I’d go with you but I think someone needs to make sure that none of them die.” George joked, motioning to Johnny and Frank as they continued sampling the spirits.

“That’s probably for the best,” Jake agreed, nodding at his friend before turning to make his way outside.

Jake took a deep breath as he stepped out of the stuffy, smokey bar, the clean air filling his lungs and the warm afternoon sun on his face caused a smile to grace his lips. It had been warm in Guadalcanal, hot even with a humid sticky feeling that caused you to sweat buckets, even at night and the incessant buzzing of the mosquitoes ever-present, but here the warmth was different. Somehow it reminded him of home, the sunshine filling his body with vigour and warmth that it hadn’t had since the day he shipped out to the Pacific. He began walking aimlessly down Main Street, his feet carrying him along the line of shops, passing fruit stalls, clothing shops, and the hardware store. Jake almost felt like he was at home, he’d often give his mother a lift to town, helping her carry the groceries back to the car. As Jake rounded the corner, he came face to face with a young woman on a bike, the brakes screeched to a halt and the young woman fell forward off her bike. Jake lunged forward, catching her before she collided with the pavement.

“East there ma’am, you should watch where you're going.” Jake smiled down at her as she glared up at him. Easing herself quickly from his arms, she huffed and straightened her dress. “Get your hands off me, Yank!” She exclaimed, her accent British and her mannerisms causing Jake to laugh at the light blush that formed on her already rosy cheeks.

“You’re very welcome, ma’am, anytime.” Jake gave her a mock salute and his sarcastic tone infuriated her more when she groaned. Jake hadn’t noticed the papers that litter the street until she bent down, scooping them up quickly as the wind began to flutter them away.

“Here let me help you,” Jake bent down helping gather up the loose papers. Looking down at the paper he noticed the familiar layout and fonts.

“You work for a newspaper?” He asked a crooked smile forming on his lips as he handed the papers back to her.

“And what is it to you?” She glared at him again. Jake couldn’t help but notice that despite her aggravation towards him that she was very striking.

“Well I used to work for a newspaper back home before I joined the Marine Corps,” Jake explained, noticing a small flicker of a smile gracing her lips before it disappeared again.

“Well good for you but you’ve made me late. Good day, Soldier.”

“It’s Corporal ma’am, I recently got promoted actually.” She squinted at him, her forehead wrinkling in confusion as if the information was meant to mean something to her. Jake watched helplessly as she climbed back onto her bicycle, securing the papers in the basket before peddling away without a second glance.

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The bar was crowded, smoke filling the air as the ambient glow cast shadows over the men in uniform who filled tables and chairs throughout the vicinity. A bartender with rolled-up sleeves moved from one end of the counter to the other, sliding drinks along the wooden top. Some of the men occupied the wooden stools along the counter, while others crowded around the darts board. A cacophony of laughter filled the dark corners of the room. Jake smiled jovially, balancing the beers on the wooden tray as he approached the group.

Several of the men were singing loudly and out of tune to ‘An Angel in Disguise’ while one of them played the piano. Each man had his arm around a pretty girl, all smiling enthusiastically up at the soldiers.

“This rounds on me,” he called out, earning a cheer from his fellow Marines.

“I knew I like this guy,” Johnny spoke up, taking a sip of the golden liquid and wiping the foam moustache away with the back of his hand.

“Alright Short Ass, stop being such an ass kisser,” Johnny called out, puffing up his chest in a desperate attempt to make himself taller. Frank just shook his head, a crooked smile gracing his lips.

“Hey Cowboy, did you see those girls at the bar, they keep looking our way?” George mused, coming to stand beside his friend. Jake turned casually, his eyes raking over the many figures until he made eye contact with her.

“Shit!” Jake hissed under his breath, averting his gaze in a desperate attempt to avoid further conflict.

“What?” George asked, standing on his tiptoes to try and see what Jake had.

“It’s the girl from earlier, the one I bumped into and know she wants to murder me.”

George threw his head back in a fit of laughter. “You’re fuckin’ with me right? You’re scared of her! Jake, you’re a fucking Marine and she’s just a woman.”

“Exactly!” Jake exclaimed, “They are very dangerous if you get on the wrong side of them.”

“Alright, that’s it. I’m not having you being terrified of a girl.” George stood up, abandoning the beautiful woman beside him who looked rather put out and strolled towards the woman at the bar. Jake couldn’t bear to watch, turning away from his friend to try and preserve what little dignity he had left.

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(Y/n) grinned through red lips at her friends, Fern and Johanna, who were desperately trying to recount the US Marines arrival from that morning. Fern’s lips moved a million miles an hour while (Y/n) humoured her, sipping her whiskey neat as she kept up with the story. Fern, Johanna, and (Y/n) had been friends since she first moved to Melbourne and couldn’t find her way to the local newspaper. They had been willing to volunteer and the rest was history.

“Have you noticed that group of Marines over there, they keep looking at us,” Fern whispered, trying to point towards the group of soldiers without making it too obvious. “That blond one certainly has eyes for you.”

“I like the dark-haired tall one,” Johanna mused, biting her lip seductively.

(Y/n) turned round to look and let out a small groan, burying her face in her palm as she spotted the blond Marine. “Not him, anyone but him.”

“Come on, stop being so picky. There is a bar full of extremely attractive Marines and you're still being picky.” Fern protested, placing her glass on the bar to grip her friend's shoulders. “Just give them a chance. Please.”

“Fine,” (Y/n) signed, throwing her head back and downing the rest of her drink.

“Good because one of them is coming our way.”

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It turned out that George was quite charming and although he informed them he was off the market, he did encourage the three girls to join their group for the evening. Everything was going smoothly so Jake took it upon himself to try and talk to the mystery girl that had been occupying his thoughts.

“So… how are you feeling, Sweetheart?” Now even Jake would admit that he was probably coming on a little strong but with the amount of alcohol he’d consumed he honestly wasn’t surprised.

“I was doing just fine until you appeared,” she retorted, glaring at him. Jake nodded slowly letting out an amused chuckle as he watched her friend elbow her and hiss something in her ear.

“I'm doing just fine, thank you,” she corrected herself and sent Jake a pleasant smile.

Jake nodded, “I'm pleased to hear that.”

As the evening progressed, the longing looks and fleeting touches between the pair grew to an unbearable tension. Jake could feel the sweat trickling down his back and began to pull at the collar of his uniform, desperate for the feeling of the soft evening breeze hitting his sweat-drenched flesh. He let out a soft huff as he felt a hand tapping his shoulder, he was pleasantly surprised when he came face to face with his mystery lady.

“Do you play?” She cocked her head to the side, letting her hair fall gracefully from her shoulder as she thrust several darts towards him, cocking her eyebrow as she waited for a response.

“Sure,” Jake replied, puffing up his chest. “As long as you don't mind losing.”

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“If I win, the next round for the entire bar is on you.”

Jake’s eyebrows furrowed slightly but his poker face remained stoic.

“Alright, but if I win I get to take you on a date,” a mischievous smirk sprung across his lips as he looked down at her. She blushed, averting her gaze to her shoes.

“You want to take me on a date? Why?” (Y/n) couldn’t understand why he of all people wanted her, why did he find her so interesting.

“Well, aren’t you just the most beautiful woman in all of Melbourne.”

She blushed furiously, “Well I don’t know about that,” her voice shook and she struggled to meet his eyes.

“To me you are.”

He was shamelessly flirting with you, all the Marines flirted with the women, you also knew that a lot of them just wanted sex and nothing more but Jake seemed different. Yes, he was charismatic, handsome and charming but he had a sort of edge to him that others didn’t. He was different and there was something behind those blue eyes that she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

She nodded her head slowly, “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal, Corporal.” He took her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles.

“Well then little lady, you got yourself a deal,” Jake stood slightly taller now, eyes shining brightly as he grinned at you as if he’d already won the bet.

Luckily for you, Jake did win. The more you thought about his offer of a date throughout the evening the more you realised you were rooting for him to win, throwing the darts with little force, using your left hand instead of your right, you’d never been one to let others win but Jake had awoken something in you, even when you felt like he was the worst man on earth.

To say Jake was feeling smug that he won would be the understatement of the century, his face erupted into a wide grin, eyes shining brightly. He slung his arm around her shoulder, “Well Little Lady, looks like you owe me a date.”

“It looks like I do,” (Y/n) stood up swiftly, “but I must be going now, I have an early start tomorrow.” (Y/n) found herself hurrying quickly to the door, desperate to get away from Jake before she did something she might regret. She felt him running after her, hearing the odd complaint as he pushed past other Marines to get through the crowd to her. (Y/n) reached the door, hurrying out into the cool, evening air, she let out a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding, feeling her hands begin to shake a little at the restraint she had shown. (Y/n) didn’t know what to do, she had never felt this way about anyone before.

“HEY! HEY!” The all too familiar voice called from behind her, loud footsteps echoing on the quiet street. “Hey wait up.”

(Y/n) stopped abruptly, turning herself round and hurrying towards Jake. She grabbed hold of his shirt, yanking him harshly towards her and cashing their lips together. Jake let out a surprised squeak that caused her to smile into the kiss before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her impossibly close. (Y/n) had always thought it was ridiculous to think people saw fireworks when they kissed but the fireworks that erupted inside her stomach provided the theory right. Her hand wove its way into Jake’s short hair, tugging it gently.

When they eventually pulled apart Jake’s lips were swollen and smudged with red lipstick, his chest heaving from his effort.

“Goodnight, Corporal,” (Y/n) whispered, her lips brushing against his once more before she pulled away, her legs carrying her quickly down the now-silent Main Street.

“Hey, when can I see you again?” Jake hollered after her, his voice echoing down the dimly lit street. “You promised to go on a date with me.”

She turned sharply on her heels, her red lips creeping into a wicked smirk. “I said I’d go on a date with you, I never said when though.” She laughed as she turned back around, continuing the short walk to her house. Jake groaned in frustration. How could one woman have such an effect on him?

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#jake hangman seresin #marine corps #ww2 marines #jake seresin x reader #the good die young #ww2 #ww2 jake seresin #jake seresin #the pacific

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matataku-hoshi · 1 year

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Groundhog Day at the Old Vic, London 2023

*dusts off the old blog* It's certainly been a minute, hasn't it! Still here, still a huge GHD fan. In the intervening years, I got to see productions at San Francisco Playhouse and at the Paramount Theatre in Aurora, IL. (I also got married and went through a bunch of other life stuff, but that's neither here nor there). But then it was announced that Groudhog Day would be returning to the Old Vic in 2023 with Andy Karl, and my husband and I used that as an excuse to finally do that UK trip we'd been talking about for years.

Tumblr user colemckenzies did a great post outlining some of the changes between Broadway and 2023 Old Vic. I wanted to further elaborate on some additional changes I noticed. Obviously spoilers to follow:

In “There Will Be Sun”, the first chorus of “Tomorrow spring will come and then there will be blue skies my friend” is cut. It goes straight from “If not tomorrow then tomorrow or tomorrow there will be sun” to “Oh if I could I’d will these clouds away my love”

While obviously the revolves are gone (look at me picking up British-isms 😄), the bedroom set gets wheeled in every loop. They keep the trick from Broadway where this is always done counter-clockwise until the loop finally breaks.

As previously mentioned, there’s a wonderful lyric change in Day One. “Their dumb superstitions and vacuous chat, their total unawareness of the fact their trapped, perhaps you don't miss it if you don't know you lack it, I'm sure there was a pack of xanax in this jacket'

I adore this because of the foreshadowing, and how Phil thinks he’s singing about the townsfolk when he’s really singing about himself.

Dialogue change in 2023 when Phil runs into Jonathan:

Jonathan: “Off to the see the groundhog?”

Phil: “Why, isn’t there a tractor pull or a cow-tipping contest?”

Jonathan, looks confused: “I don’t think that’s today.”

When Rita introduces to Phil on Day One and reminds him of the flood story, Phil takes a second before recalling, groans, and goes, "Oh, the intern? They didn't even send me a real producer." After which Rita corrects him that she's a real producer now, albeit an associate producer.

On Day 2 when the sheriff drops his gun, Phil asks "How do you have a permit???"

At the end of Day 2, Rita sings “I mean he acts kind of asshole-ish still. I think he might be mentally ill.” While it’s on the cast recording and the early previews bootleg, I could have sworn it was cut in the final Broadway version. Regardless, it’s restored in the 2023 version.

Phil’s “Help me~~~~” at the end of Day 3 is cut.

In Philandering, they cut the line where Phil "proposes" to Nancy (which I prefer - no one is that stupid, and they make the point later that Nancy is more than a caricature)

Also in Philandering, you can hear the chorus singing, “Gonna party like it’s no tomorrow~~~” in the party scene (formerly the orgy scene). Phil also gets 10 pizzas delivered to his room.

Phil is less aggressive when he confesses his “love” to Rita in One Day.

On Broadway, they sit down directly on the stage, and Phil leans sideways to Rita to confess. As he gets more desperate, he starts to position himself over her and tries to take her hand, after which she slaps him.

In 2023, they’re sitting on a bench together. Phil tries to take her hand, and she pulls away and slaps him. Still creepy, but much less heading in the direction of sexual assault.

Either way Phil totally deserves to get slapped. I’ve talked to a few people who have said they could never root for Phil because of this scene (which is a fair critique). The 2023 version IMO makes the same point without so much portraying Phil as a potential sexual predator.

Right before Phil smashes the alarm clock at the end of One Day, he yells “Make it stop!” (“Somebody make it stop”? Memory is a fickle thing)

When Phil kills himself with the gun before Hope, it's more explicit that he stole the gun off of the sheriff with his faulty holster.

I don't remember if this is new, but when Phil wakes up at the beginning of Hope, he touches the side of his head where he shot himself and even though he knows that the day will always reset, he still looks a little surprised and it's heartbreaking.

For the third death/revival in Hope (where Phil climbs the ladder):

Broadway: Phil reappears in bed

Old Vic 2023: Phil reappears on the scene of the broadcast, fully dressed

As noted, lots of changes to If I Had My Time Again.

Cast recording: "The thing with these revolving rides / they're only fun because you know they're going to end"

Broadway (as of early in previews): "I was completely dead inside / But today I'm like 85%"

London 2023: We're back to the cast recording lyrics.

IMO the orchestration and lyric changes are for the better. I adored this song on the cast recording, but in the August Wilson theater it frequently felt swallowed up.

With the emphasis on just Phil and Rita, it’s a much more intimate song, which is what the scene needs IMO.

I also love Rita’s new lyric “Go to all the parties that I missed / Kiss all the boys I was too afraid to kiss”, because then it’s Rita fulfilling her “time again” when she kisses Phil during Seeing You.

After "If I Had My Time Again", Phil eats a carton of Ben & Jerry's while discussing the almanac with Rita. I love the implication that he’s eaten all of this junk food before, but he’s trying it again with her.

Dialogue change after "If I Had My Time Again"

Phil: "You know, Larry, we never really talk."

Broadway Larry: "Sometimes I think you don't notice that I'm there."

London 2023 Larry: "Well you never brought me donuts before."

Not a change, but I was sitting close enough one night to see the stock photos they use for Ned’s wallet pictures of his kids, and I realized that “little Mary” is just a baby. It really hit home that Ned has probably just lost his wife in the last year or two, and he’s trying to raise five very young kids on his own.

In the Broadway/cast recording versions of "Philanthropy", you can hear some melodic callbacks to earlier songs. In the London 2023 version, the chorus actually sings lines like, "I'm not sure what the point is / But this point is it don't matter" and "If I had my time again I would not do it all the same"

There's no pause of silence before "Seeing You" starts

After Phil and Rita run off into the snow at the end of Seeing You, the couples left dancing are Nancy/Larry, Debbie/Fred, and then Mrs. Lancaster dances alone in the snow in joyous wonder. I love this bit, becuase it feels like all the different ways you can find a new meaning of love (Nancy/Larry, the couple just discovering each other, Debbie/Fred, who have moved into a new phase of their relationship, and then Mrs. Lancaster, who even as an old woman can revel in the beauty of the snow)

In 2023 when Phil takes Rita to see the sunrise, he makes her cover her eyes, and then unveil them once the full sunrise is in view. It’s very sweet.

Anyway, I love this show, and I love talking about this show, so please feel free to hit me up! I may post more general thoughts, etc. if anyone is interested.

#andy karl #groundhog day musical #groundhog day the musical #groundhog day #phil connors #rita hanson #old vic #ghd musical

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heymelissachambers · 2 months

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OKAY I’M SORRY FOR FLOODING THIS QUESTION BOX BUT THIS AU HAS BEEN FLOATING IN MY HEAD WITHOUT PAYING RENT FOR COUPLE WEEKS NOW AND I WANT TO ASK IF THATS OKAY!!!

Okay so in tgwdlm charlotte mentioned that sam was a really shitty singer- in the fic he has done theatre before, but nothing necessarily about musicals. Does Sams (lack of) singing talent play into the fic in any way, or can this version actually sing?

Also if you feel this is a spoilery question for the future of the fic forget it ever asked lmao

sorry again for the copious amount of questions i hope you don’t feel obligated to answer HAVE A MICE DAYYYYY!!!!

omg never apologize for asking questions i love getting them so much!! im so glad you're enjoying this au!!

what charlotte said in tgwdlm is more along the lines of "sam's not a bad singer, he's just a little flat" which im choosing to headcanon as a more recent thing because he hasnt been singing regularly for the last ~12 years (he dropped out of college to become a cop sometime in 2007 and stopped having time for theatre around then).

i think the only time charlotte hears him sing nowadays is in the shower or maybe along to the radio but he's out of practice which is why he sounds a little flat to her.

that's partially why he's started spending nights working on his audition (he actually wasn't lying to charlotte in chapter ten, man really went down to the community center to work on his audition) because he knows he needs to brush up on his singing to have a shot at a role.

whether it's enough to land him a role or not... well, we'll see.

thank you so much for the question!! please feel free to ask more in the future i love them so much!!

#hthm!

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e-the-village-cryptid · 2 years

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Goncharov the Musical (1985)

with all this goncharov posting I still haven’t seen anyone mention the musical adaptation! granted, if goncharov is a lost movie, then the musical is fricken atlantis, but the little-known adaptation did in fact exist, if very briefly. as far as I’ve been able to find out, there were only two showings and somewhere between 5 and 10 previews before it was shut down for good.

just as goncharov itself is full of bitter ironies, so too is the story behind the (partial) recovery of this musical. Cranston Park Theatre, where the musical was staged, suffered flooding in September of this year, forcing the theater to close for repairs. in clearing out their flooded basement, a few discs from the goncharov production were discovered, but not before the long submersion in water highly damaged them. yeah, the same flood that led to the discs’ rediscovery also ruined large portions of them. the irony is flawless, but I’m still mad about that lost history that may never be recovered.

however, we do have a mostly intact rendition of the first two numbers, which are, as in most musicals, an ensemble opener and an “I want” song. (many thanks to the Cranston Park Theatre employee who got permission to post the recovered clips to youtube!) the song titles are lost to time as far as I can tell, but we have some footage and that’s what’s most important. let’s dive in!

the ensemble opener: it’s very militaristic, which is an interesting choice. the stately march-style opener evokes the mechanical, grim themes present throughout much of the film— or, at least it would, if the costumes weren’t so ridiculous. despite the attempted seriousness of the number, the set and costumes come off as quite campy— perhaps this was an intentional mockery of the militaristic march, to emphasize the existing irony of comparing mafia and gangsters to soldiers? my favorite part about this number is that the strong, steady beat is exactly 60 bpm— one beat per second, like the ticking of a clock. say what you will about the directors of this musical, but they knew their motifs for sure!

the “I want” song: usually the second song of a musical would be given to the lead to sing their “I want” ballad— think “Waiting on a Miracle” in Encanto where Mirabel just wants to be special like the rest of the family, or “Carrie” in Carrie (a musical from around the same time period that suffered a similar fate of early cancellation, but that’s a parallel for a different post), where Carrie longs for her classmates to stop bullying her and see her for who she truly is. now, in Goncharov, this song is given not to Goncharov, but to Katya. this is fascinating! the narrative is essentially establishing Katya as the central character, of equal or greater importance than Goncharov himself. I wish so badly I could make out the lyrics, but the recording is too damaged for me at least. the tone of the ballad is emotional, though, and Katya can be seen gesturing to Goncharov, who is staged out of reach and out of earshot. At another point, she also gestures close to the wings, where there appears to be a figure? the video quality is very grainy but at least in my mind this has to be Sofia. (oh how I wish the lyrics were audible here!) and of course, the centerpiece of the number (and the whole musical, really) is the giant clock tower in the square, which the choreography and Katya’s movements places as an important element of the song. the song ends with the tolling of the clock bells, setting the characters into a hurry about their business as if the spell is broken. ok, a little heavy-handed at this point. oh well, I honestly enjoy it, this song strikes the balance between sincere and campy— the choreography could be considered over-the-top and even a bit ridiculous in other circumstances but weirdly it worked?? one of my favorites and definitely the one I wish the most that we had a better recording of.

I’ll keep the analysis to just these two songs for now, but if anyone on some off-chance has found any better recordings of this musical please share them! not much is known about this musical’s history since it fell apart so quickly, likely due to budget and conflict between several of the lead actors and the director, so it’s entirely possible they performed at some other smaller theatre or at least rehearsed there. let’s piece this musical back together!

#goncharov #goncharov the musical #unreality #an e original

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aenesthesian · 6 months

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March 2024 favourites

Throughout the past few months I've seen several people catalogue their monthly interests in this way, and it's intrigued me as I don't know anyone else who likes to categorise things as much as I do. Maybe I'm just an immensely nostalgic person who is terrified of forgetting things from my youth, which, I'm not going to lie, is starting to hinder me a little! Anyways, this is my first try at this, bear with me.

Film(s)

Saw Dune: Part Two in theatres and holy shit, what an experience that was - it truly is the blockbuster franchise of our time. However, no matter how good the movie itself was, it still left me confused as i hadn't made any effort beforehand to understand the plot. I remember feeling the exact same sense of confusion when I came out of the cinema in 2021 after seeing the first part of Dune. Turns out all I had to do was watch a single Youtube video explaining how the Dune universe works in order to be completely engrossed by the world! If only my stubbornness and refusal to give sci-fi movies the time of day, a genre i've never enjoyed much, hadn't stopped me from wanting to understand it all these years.

Another thing that kept me on my toes all month was the promo for Challengers starting, which releases in theatres next month!! I can't believe we're actually getting a love triangle on screen where ALL corners touch. What a monumental event in history indeed.

Also, special mention: Swann Arlaud, Twitter's It-Boy of the Month!!! Well, at least my TL is flooded with pictures and interviews of him, which I'm actually not mad about, not mad at all.

Bars

Usually March is a really tough month, one full of despair and stress. While that was still the case this year, I tried balancing it out by spending more time with friends. It's been lovely spending long Friday evenings in bars, even if I did feel a little distant at times. Strange how one can feel dissociated in a large group and yet still feel like they belong - it only starts being unbearable the moment you begin to feel like an anomaly that is entirely out of place. Our brains work in fascinating ways; regardless, I'm just glad to have spent more time outside of my home. Is this what enjoying my youth feels like?

Skincare

I only properly began about a week ago, but i've been having so much fun establishing, or rather enhancing my skincare routine. I used to brag about not taking care of my skin at all, which looking back was absolutely tragic. Now I'm very pleased with how far I've come in terms of taking care of my own body, at least with this little routine I have.

Music

I've been finding so much new music lately!! Over the last two weeks, there genuinely hasn't been a day where I didn't find at least two songs to my liking. Been listening to a ton of German music as well as any other genre I can think of - from rock, alternative/indie to hip-hop, rap, techno, pop, just anything that comes my way. Here are some of my favourites from this month:

babybreath - Lovesliescrushing Tommi - AnnenMayKantereit Junge - Die Ärzte Another life - PinkPantheress, Rema Subterraneans - David Bowie alone - Cavetown Tumblr Girls - G-Eazy, Christoph Andersson Will I See You Again? - Thee Sacred Souls Beautiful Boy - The Last Dinner Party Cellular (Live) - King Krule Leben leben - OG Ti Philadelphia - Matt Maltese, Searows Pretty Girls - Reneé Rap Am Weg in die Villa - BIBIZA Too Sweet - Hozier Never Wanted To Dance - Mindless Self Indulgence Lottoscheine - AnnenMayKantereit i like the way you kiss me - Artemas nichts - makko Souvenir - boygenius Ssaliva's entire discography

Books

I read How To Get A Girl Pregnant by Karleen Pendleton Jimenez, a memoir of sorts about a queer butch woman trying to get pregnant, and oh my god. The grip that book had on me was unbelievable, it simply felt so distinctly human and helped ease my anxiety about my future as a queer person a little. It's advice that straight parents cannot give their queer child, and I couldn't help but soak it all up. It's available online in pdf format, btw.

Also, I finally finished my third reread of my first All the Young Dudes copy that I started reading in November I believe? I'm afraid those characters, that story, and that fandom will always be a part of me, as it's been three years now, and my fixation isn't waning one bit. Forgot to mention that I began reading The Secret History after putting it off for literally a year or two, which I'm very excited about. So far it's incredible, however pages 44 and 45 left such a deep pit in my stomach that I had to put it down for a few days. Hopefully I'll be done with it by the end of April, as next month may be the most stressful of my entire life so far.

Special mention

The forcemasc tumblr tag has taken over my body and mind. Not sure whether I'm willing to go into more detail, but i just. i just. i. holy fucking shit. Never has anything validated my gender identity along with my sexuality more than that goddamn tag.

A quote that defined my month

#dune movie #challengers 2024 #movies #swann arlaud #vienna #skincare #music recs #queer books #forcemasc #queer #transmasc #nonbinary #glad i did this ngl #transgender

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fantomevoleur · 1 year

Note

❧ - Hiking up their skirt / pant leg, showing off some leg and/or thigh (Makoto >:3)

Show A Little Skin Meme

Water never tasted so good. Although a little splash of flavor always enhanced the bland taste. One of those tiny fruit powder packets did the trick, but unfortunately none were found presently in his bag, or brought along on his trip for that matter. In Makoto's words, natural water replenished more than any sugary liquid.

The gym was the last place to find someone of Akira's appearance and lanky stature fumbling around. He knew he stuck out, but it didn't mean he couldn't keep up. Previous theatre performances, along with his knowledge of several dance styles made anyone around them surprised by Akira's endurance as well as his flexibility. But when it came to core strength and muscle building? That was his weakness.

"...geez...I never, ever will doubt how cardio works ever again..." Akira should have listened to Morgana's naggings after the incident at Protein Lover's Gym. Hell, those pull-up routines in the attic helped as well. Why did he stop doing it again? He swigged down another large gulp of water from his plastic bottle, taking a gander towards the corner where Makoto performed her cool down exercises....

....or so that's what she told Akira. It was, no doubt, but grey eyes noticed a brief moment where the brunette's shorts slightly slid to the side. And in turn, revealed quite a bit of her own thighs...her very, muscular, well-toned thighs.

His body temperature already felt unnaturally warm due to the hot air circulating in the gym, and of course his previous uphill running. It spared him a second of embarrassment, because he's certain his cheeks flooded with extra heat after seeing something like that. He'd never mention it...it's only his secret. One he'd take to his grave if it came down to it.

"...uh...M-Makoto..." Best to move on and continue with their training session. "...I forgot what was next on our schedule. More...leg day exercises?"

#ic #Akira #fatexbound #long post #The Shapeshifter's Struggles - Mid P5R Verse #((hehehehe him seeing the REAL GOODS THERE!!!#not him thinking about it for the rest of their session :3))

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cevaannss · 3 years

Text

Just Friends (Reader x Chris Evans)

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Prompt: “you say we are just friends, but friends don’t know the way you taste” but with a happy ending? - Anon

Warnings: R rating, Some sexual content/Smut, Minors DNI. Brief mentions of/allusions to anxiety.

Authors Notes: This is my first prompt fill on here in years, so I might be a little rusty any feedback is appreciated, please let me know if there’s anything I missed warning or tagging. I also didn’t intend for this to be so long but I got a little carried away with it.

When you and Chris first met, you had been young, wide eyed, fresh faced kids. He was barely 20, filming at your old high school, and you a member of the local theatre group were recruited as an extra. You had graduated a year prior and were coming to the end of your gap year, you would be going to college in a few short months. After seeing each other in passing on set, you and Chris had your first conversation in the kraft services trailer, both leaning in to grab the last remaining bagel. After a back and forth of “you take it” “no you” “seriously its okay” you agreed to split it and thus began your friendship.

It was weird, from that first day you had a connection like neither of you had experienced with anyone else. You talked daily, would be each other’s dates to your friends weddings, hung out with each other’s families without the other around. You were mistaken for boyfriend and girlfriend many times throughout your years of friendship but that was never what it was about. You’d both dated plenty, often times ending relationships because the person you were seeing couldn’t deal with your closeness to each other. But for you both that was just how it was, and if they couldn’t accept it then they weren’t worth your time. Maybe they were right, you had always had a crush on Chris, and you had a feeling it was reciprocated but you’d always had an understanding, a common ground that you were friends and that’s all you’d ever needed to be.

The first time you had edged into more than friends territory was on Chris’ 37th birthday. You had thrown him a party at his house and he had been a little, okay a lot drunk and while you weren’t far behind him you were still sober enough to take care of his messy ass. After everyone had left you had attempted to clean up a bit, collecting garbage and wiping down the kitchen, the whole time Chris was passed out on his couch. You had managed to wake him enough to get him up and into his bedroom, out of his jeans and shoes and into his bed. You bought him a glass of water and two Advil placing them on his beside table, him grabbing your wrist as you placed the water down, pulling you on top of him into a half hug as he tended to do when he was drunk. He’d always been touchy when he was drunk, letting his hands linger on you longer than normal but it had always been innocent. He mumbled something into your ear, something he’d said a million times, and you replied the same response you had given a million more. But what he said next had changed it all.

“No, not like that”

It stopped you in your tracks because what did he mean not like that. It had to be like that. It had always been like that. This wasn’t how this went. Not for the two of you. You weren’t “those” friends.

“Then like what” you had whispered, panic setting in, soberness hitting you like a Mack truck as you looked back at him. But of course he had fallen asleep again, dead to the world, arm wrapped around your waist as you perched on the edge of his bed. Silence filling the air except for the light snoring he was emitting.

The next morning you had been awoken by clattering coming from the kitchen. Stumbling out of the guest room you walked in to Chris attempting to make breakfast, standing in the door way you watched him, his eyes squinted and slow moving, lingering proof of his previous inebriation. He was making blueberry pancakes, it was a post birthday tradition, but you were usually the one who made them for him on the day after his birthday.

Seeing him standing there sliding another half burnt pancake onto the stack he had started made you smile, he tried bless him, but he was never great in the kitchen. The conversation from last night soon flooded your memory and you couldn’t stop yourself.

“What did you mean”

Chris looked up from pouring more batter into the pan, finally noticing your presence.

“Morning” he mumbled, clearly not fully awake yet “What do you mean, what did I mean?”

“Last night, in your room, you said you loved me...”

“I always say I love you?” He let out a low chuckle but looked confused, you weren’t sure if he really didn’t remember or if he was just pleading ignorance, usually you were quick to spot if he was lying but this time your radar couldn’t pin it. He turned his attention back to flipping the pancake in the pan.

“Yeah but when I said I love you too bestie... you said ‘No, not like that’ what did you mean?”

His head snapped up, redness filling his cheeks, and it was in that moment that you had known things were changing whether you had wanted them to or not.

“Oh” you said, your breath escaping you, as the realization hit.

“Yeah” he said eyes focused on the pancake burning in the pan.

“Chris...”

He pulled the pan off the stove dumping the last pancake on the plate before placing the pan in the sink letting the cold water run over it before turning back to face you.

“I don’t...what do you want me to say” He started, raising his voice slightly, obviously flustered. “You want me to say I was drunk and didn’t know what I was saying? Because I cant okay, I can’t say that. Would I have said it if I were sober? No, probably not...in fact definitely not. But I did and I can’t take it back or just pretend I didn’t because I do love you, I’ve always loved you”

“I’ve always loved you too Chris” you looked up, your eyes connecting with his blue ones.

“Yeah, but not in the same way” he stepped around the counter standing in front of you now, his frame towering over yours.

“Said who”

“What”

“Who said I don’t love you in the same way?”

Chris lunged forward, one hand grasping your waist, the other coming up to cup your face as he leant down, his lips pressing against yours gently. It took you a second to realize what was happening before your hands found their way around his neck pulling him down to you, deepening the kiss.

From that day onward you became the friends who make out occasionally, it wasn’t the right time for you to try and be anything more, yes you loved each other, more deeply than you first understood but your lives were all over the place, you were rarely in the same city for more than a few weeks at a time and Chris’ career was exploding more than ever. It wasn’t the right time. So you’d both take what you could get when you could get it and that was enough for either of you.

It wasn’t until Chris’ 38th birthday a year later that you let things go any further. He had wanted a small celebration, so you had gone to dinner with a few friends, had a few drinks and then headed back to his place to watch a movie. You had been cuddled up on the couch, passing a beer back and forth between you when he placed it down on the coffee table, his hand sliding down your thigh, before pulling you into his lap. You had placed your knees on either side of his thighs, your hands on his shoulders while his trailed down your sides and over your hips before slowly moving to cup your ass. You leant down to place a soft kiss on his lips, him reattaching them as soon as you pulled away, biting your lower lip roughly.

There was something different in the way he was kissing you, the way he was touching you, more heat, more passion. Your hands were running down his chest as his grip on your ass tightened, holding you close to him, the intensity taking over. Before you knew it your shirt was on the floor and his hands were sliding up your back as your lips found their way to his neck. There was a tenacity in every movement, every touch, every kiss. His hands finding the clasp of your bra, undoing it with ease and discarding it with your shirt on the floor. He pulled away slightly, his eyes raking over your body perched on top of him, eyes filled with need and want, pushing up to connect your lips once again as you could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against you through his jeans. His large hands sliding to your thighs before standing you both up, your legs wrapping around his waist, hands in his hair.

He stumbled his way into his bedroom laying you down on his bed placing a soft kiss to your lips before hurriedly kissing down the side of your neck and chest, between your breasts and down to your belly button stopping at the waist of your jean shorts, fingers dancing over the button as he looked up at you, eyes questioning as if to get the go ahead, you nodded gently. He slid your shorts and underwear down your thighs, discarding them and grabbing at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before sliding off his jeans and boxers. You let your eyes trail his body as he situated himself between your legs leaning down to kiss you again.

“Are we really gonna do this” he laughed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“I think so” you blushed, eyes meeting his once again, yours filled with anticipation, his with desire.

When you woke up the next morning, your head on his chest, his fingers running through your hair, you didn’t know how to feel, but you knew things were moving into a far more complicated territory.

The two of you went on this way for a while, hanging out with friends and family as if nothing had changed, but when it was just the two of you it was different, intimate. When you were away from each other you facetimed daily, you shared everything, you always had but now it felt like everything you were used to but magnified. When he was gone you missed him, when you were together you felt complete. It was so familiar but so new at the same time. At this point you were dating without the title, which had been fine with you both, you liked what you had together it was easy, simple, no pressure.

In early August you had moved in, the apartment you rented was being sold and Chris insisted it would be helping him, and besides he had said, you were there whenever he was anyway. You had your own room but it was rarely used, most nights falling asleep together in Chris’ bed, both finding you slept better when you were together. It was one of those nights, curled up in his bed, Dodger at your feet, watching a rerun of some sitcom when Chris had asked you if you would go to Toronto with him the next month, his latest film Knives Out was premiering at the film festival there and he had been equal parts excited and nervous about it. You had been taken aback at first, sure you’d visited him on set before and attended a few premieres but this felt different.

“You want me to?” You sat up turning to face him.

“Obviously” he laughed “I’d take you everywhere with me if I could”

“Aww cute” you chuckled pinching his cheek as he kissed the tip of your nose.

“I have press a lot of the time, but you could hang out do some sight seeing, then come to the premiere with me?”

“With you...or with you?”

“Whichever one means I get to have you beside me on the red carpet”

“I don’t know Chris...you know that will start a shit storm” you knew how bad the rumours that had started when fans spotted you just attending the premiere for the last Avengers movie had been, and while it really didn’t bother you, you didn’t want it to have an affect on his career.

“Honestly? I don’t care.”

“Okay” you knew he wouldn’t say it but you could tell from his face that he was feeling anxious about it “I’ll come with you, but if you decide any time that you’d rather walk the carpet alone thats okay”

“I won’t” he reassured you, placing a kiss to your temple.

The day of the premiere came around quickly, Chris had been doing press for the past couple of days and you had spent most of your time exploring the cities sights. Chris held true to his word and didn’t change his mind about you walking the carpet with him. He had been a ball of nervous energy since you had woken up, you had left him eating breakfast to go take a shower and start getting ready for your day.

When you came out of the bathroom towel wrapped around you tightly, wet hair loose and ready to be dried you had found him pacing the hotel room in his underwear trying to keep himself busy, it was something that would put most people on edge but you had seen this so many times before with him, always getting in his head, always doubting himself and usually you were able to talk him down easily, but this time you had decided to try a different method.

Calling his name you let go of the grip you had on your towel letting it drop to the ground as he looked up having not previously noticed you had come back into the room, freezing instantly eyeing the curve of your body, a slight smirk across his face.

“What’s this for” he laughed as he closed the gap between you, hands finding your hips as you rested yours on his chest.

“You needed to get out of your head” you whispered as your lent up to kiss him, one hand sliding down his chest and finding its way into his boxers taking his length in your hand and stroking it slowly as you felt it harden beneath your grip. You pecked his lips before dropping to your knees on the plush hotel carpet pulling his boxers down with you. You pumped him a few more times with your hand before letting your tongue lick over his head tasting the saltiness of pre-cum. You took him halfway into your mouth, letting your warmth surround him before pulling off and sliding your tongue along the underside of his cock. Surrounding him with your mouth once more, this time dropping down deeper and with more intent, you hand finds its way to play with his balls, Chris letting out a breathy moan. You started to bob your head up and down as his hand found its way into your hair guiding you as his hips began to thrust, his tip hitting the back of your throat with each movement. It didn’t take long before he was warning you that he was about to cum, and cum he did, hard and fast right down your throat as you swallowed the taste of him before letting his cock slide out of your mouth. Chris pulled you up from the floor crashing his mouth into yours, tasting the remnants of himself on your tongue as he guided you back to the bed determined to make you cum just as hard as he had.

An hour later you found yourself in the shower for the second time that day, this time joined by Chris. You took your time, him massaging shower gel onto your back, while you reached up lathering and rinsing out the shampoo from his hair. You made sure to gently scrape your fingers along his scalp the way you knew, from many nights laying on the couch fingers curled in his hair as he fell asleep in your arms, relaxed him. Once you got out of the shower you realized Chris’ stylist and the hair and make up artist you had insisted on hiring yourself would be showing up any second.

By the time you were in the car waiting to pull up to the carpet Chris had seemingly relaxed, he held your hand the entire car ride over but you knew he was in a much better place mentally and that the second he got out he would turn on his charm and have everyone eating out of the palm of his hand the way he always did. When it was time to get out of the car Chris stepped out first leaning in to offer you his hand as you stepped out behind him, you could here the gasps of fans and media alike, all surprised that Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor had bought a date. Chris had pulled you into his side at the photo area, his hand on your hip as you placed yours on his chest posing for the cameras. You had been surprisingly pretty calm about the whole thing until that moment, cameras flashing in your face and paparazzi screaming from behind their barricade for you to look in twelve directions at once. It was overwhelming and something you don't think you could ever get fully used to.

“Just breathe” He whispered to you out of the side of his mouth, knowing that you had started to spiral.

After what felt like an hour but was probably ten minutes Chris’ team moved you along to the press portion of the carpet, you had expected to just stand back with the team while Chris answered questions from reporters from all of the different networks and publications but he had refused to let go of your hand as he approached the first reporter so you found yourself next to him through it all. Of course the first question was about you, and you just knew every headline tomorrow would mention it. It used to frustrate you, how the media would hone in on any female he was seen with, making the story about that and not the hard work he was doing, but you knew they were just trying to sell papers, page click and views.

“So who do you have here with you today” the reporter smiled tilting her head in your direction

“This is my best friend” Chris started before motioning for you to finish, that was one of the many things you had always loved about Chris, he never wanted you to feel like you were in his shadow, you had your own voice and you could use it. You introduced yourself to the reporter who asked a few questions about how you met and then switched to talking about the movie. After a few more interviews that went in a similar fashion you were escorted into the theatre for the screening, Chris took your hand as the two of you sat side by side in the theatre waiting for the film to start. You had enjoyed it a lot and really loved seeing this side of Chris’ acting ability. When the movie was done he joined some of the cast at the front of the theatre for a quick question and answer session for the attendees before you all headed to the after party.

Chris had introduced you to some of his cast mates, and reintroduced you to a few you had met previously during a quick visit to set one afternoon. You had downed a few glasses of champagne by the time you were ready to leave the party, tipsy but not quite drunk. The two of you found your way back to your hotel, and you laughed as you entered the elevator remembering something you had thought about mid interview earlier that day.

“What?” Chris laughed pushing the button for your floor and leaning against the back of the elevator, as you pulled off the heels that you hadn’t realized until that moment were killing your feet.

“Earlier...I almost made the worst comment in the middle of that E! Interview”

“....oh god what were you gonna say?” He chuckled, amused at your tipsy candour.

“Well you introduced me as your friend...”

“Yeah....” Chris laughed, looking at you as if to say that’s what we agreed on.

“Well, you say we are just friends, but friends...friends don’t know the way that you taste” you smirked at him pointedly, both remembering the activities of that morning.

Chris burst out laughing, his full belly laugh, hand coming up to his chest before reach across and pulling you into him, placing a kiss on your nose as the elevator doors opened on your floor.

“True” he mumbled before leading you down the hallway to your room, “that is true” he had one hand in yours the other holding your heels that he must have picked up on the way out of the elevator. “Well, how about next time I call you something else?” He started tone playful “This is my fuck buddy, no my slam piece, no thats too informal he laughed, girlfriend? No, hmm” He opened the hotel room door letting you slide in past him as he reached around to flip on the light switch closing the door behind him.

You stopped in the entry way a gasp leaving your lips. The room was filled with flowers. The pink and white Chrysanthemums filled every spare counter space, they had always been your favorite and Chris had sent you some for every birthday without fail. There were fairy lights lining the room and a small cart with a bottle of champagne on ice and chocolate covered strawberries by the window.

You turned back to Chris, your heart racing only he wasn’t where you expected....

“How about Wife?” Your eyes connected with his, where he was knelt on the floor behind you an open green velvet ring box in hand.

“What” was all you could get out.

“How about next time I call you my Wife. Marry Me?” Chris said, laughing at the shocked expression on your face “I’ve loved you for almost 20 years now, you’re the best thing in my life, and I never want to be without you...”

“Yes.” You said before you could even really think about it. “Yes!?!” You repeated realizing what was happening as Chris pulled the ring out of the box, sliding it onto your finger quickly before standing up to kiss you.

You’re not sure how long you stood there in the entry way making out, but when you pulled away you noticed that Chris’ eyes, like yours, were a little damp as you went to run your thumb across his cheek you caught a glimpse of the ring on your hand realizing you had barely even looked at it before it was on your hand. Chris pressed his lips into your hair holding you to his chest as you admired it. It was beautiful, delicate, subtle, it was just the kind of ring you would have chosen for yourself.

“Do you like it” Chris whispered into your hair

“I love it” you smiled up at him, lightly pressing your lips to his

“I love you” he smiled, not letting go of you.

“I love you too bestie” you giggled as he grabbed you around the waist lifting you over his shoulder and tapping your ass lightly as he took off towards the bedroom.

#Chris Evans #Reader x Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #female reader #female reader x Chris evans #Chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #reader insert

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hoperays-song · 2 years

Text

Sing Characters’ List of Fears: Ash and Meena

Meena Amari

Agoraphobia (Fear of Public Spaces or Crowds)

Like most of Meena’s fears, this one does stem from her social anxiety.

Claustrophobia (Fear of Small or Crowded Spaces)

Meena only became claustrophobic after the theatre flood where she was trapped in the ticket box during the flood.

Glossophobia (Fear of Public Speaking)

This does stem from her social anxiety and primarily shows up during confrontations or presentations (for school).

Sociophobia (Fear of Social Judgment)

While also stemming from her social anxiety, it mainly shows up when she’s singing in front of others.

Ash Batalla

Lilapsophobia (Fear of Tornadoes and Hurricanes)

Ash has never been in a tornado but is still terrified of the idea of them from growing up in tornado alley for a bit.

Ophidiophobia (Fear of Snakes)

California, where Calatonia is, does have rattlesnakes and after hearing about anti-venom shortages, Ash is rightfully scared.

Aquaphobia (Fear of Water)

She did nearly die in the theatre flood and thus has developed a fear of water to the point it’s hard for her to go swim or near bodies of water.

#sing #sing 2 #sing meena #sing ash #i will never stop mentioning the theatre flood #from what i remember it seemed like ash and meena were potentially underwater the most #the only reason I didn't mention it for johnny is he was actually under the least and was why they escaped #as someone who lives in a state where there are tons of hurricanes and snakes ash's fears are completely valid #both of their fears are #they are humans in this obviously

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 12: Changes •

A/N: The missing gaps in time are on purpose since they will be in book 2 as flashbacks, which will include references to events you have not read yet. All fluff and shenanigans this chapter to make up for last, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: brief mention of nausea and gore towards the very end, but otherwise, tooth-rotting fluff!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧

𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧' 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

- David Bowie, Changes

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- 𝗠𝗜𝗗 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

"I still can't believe you went after Bowers," Richie scoffs.

As he steps off his porch and onto his lawn he looks over at his best friend and takes another gander at the bruises and welts littering her skin. Her lip was still busted and despite his and his mother's efforts to clean her bottom lip of blood, it must have started bleeding again sometime during the night as more had crusted over.

"Yeah, well," she shrugs. "It felt good,"

"Yeah," he snorts. "It looks like it,"

"You know what I mean," She elbowed him and he nodded with a little laugh.

"What d'ya want to do? I mean, we could keep standing around here like a bunch of idiots, but-" he shrugs, hands falling into his pockets, and Y/n smiles.

"I dunno," she shrugs. A wince falls over her face, a painful-looking one at that. "But I don't think I'm gonna be welcome back at the Capitol Theatre any time soon."

Richie nodded, a ghostly look falling over his face at all that had transpired in the past twenty-four hours alone. He still couldn't believe she had done that. He still couldn't believe a lot of things but her being in his corner after what she had found out seemed a little harder to believe right now. Especially after the junkyard... But - Jesus, that was already a week and a half ago, it felt like only hours.

He could hear her words from the park the other day in his ears and he suddenly felt the urge to pay her back. He smiled his charming crooked smile and hoped for the best.

"You still craving fries?"

"Always," she answered, a look of suspicion written in her features. "Why?"

Y/n didn't know why she kept asking these questions when she knew the answer. She didn't at all like the look growing in his eyes or the stupid feeling of guilt growing in her stomach.

"Cause I'm prepared to make a deal with ya toots,"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Sure am," he says, patting his hand over his left pocket. "I'd been saving up for a long weekend at the arcade but that's a bust. And I just got a raise on my allowance ━ that's again, toots. Allowance. It's the money you get when you do stuff for people, you might never have heard of it--"

"Is there a point here, Rich? Cause if so, you better get to it faster,"

"Point is, I'm packing and I'm also craving milkshakes. So how's about I treat you to the biggest pile of fries your staved ass has ever seen--"

Y/n shoots him a knowing look, ready to detest when he holds out a finger.

"If," he continues. "you take me there."

"Take you there?"

"Take me there," he nodded. "By piggyback."

Y/n gave thought to this, all while hiding behind an unimpressed look. As much as she hated to admit it, she was starving.

Richie shrugged. "Hey, you're the one always saying you don't want to feel like charity. Well, this ain't charity, this is work with a reward. Take it or leave it,"

Her unimpressed look grows stronger in an attempt to buy her time. But it's useless, her stomach answers for her with a long growl and a smile sneaks up on her.

She steps forward, crouching down a bit for him to jump on her back. "Alright, let's get this over with."

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

"You know, I was really worried about carrying you, but dude, you weigh like nothing. You're a fucking bean pole," Y/n says.

She comes to a slow before straightened her back letting him slide off her back and onto the ground. The two of them had arrived at the nearest diner in the town square where they now stood.

"Well, not to brag or anything, but," he fluffs his collar. "I took a massive shit before we left,"

"Ugh!" a shocked and uncomfortable laugh breaks loose from Y/n and she sticks out her tongue in disgust. "Regretting this already."

She threw open the doors and the two found themselves inside one of Derry's lesser diners.

It smelled like sausage and coffee beans, and it had a vibrant red and black theme. There were maybe nine or ten people there, little kids included and they could hear the jukebox blasting a David Bowie song. Y/n had a hard time enjoying it with the combination of a full bladder and an empty stomach so she turns to Richie and nudges him with her elbow.

"I'm gonna run to the restroom. Get us a booth?"

"Do your thing," Y/n nods and disappears around the corner. As his eyes follow her, they land on the corner in question she had disappeared around where there sat the jukebox.

He wanders over, eyeing the machine as Changes reaches a crescendo. A mischievous smile blooms as the lights from the window illuminated his face.

"Three plays for a dollar, huh?"

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

When Y/n returned from the restroom, she had expected to find Richie lounging in a booth somewhere, feet up and bugging the employees. She did not expect to turn the corner and nearly collide with the boy as he stood at the Jukebox and feeding all his money into it.

"Dude! I carried you here, you owe me fries!"

"And you shall get them my liege," answered Richie in a Shakespearean tone. "But first!" He dropped the act and looked away from the Jukebox for the first time, wearing an almost evil grin. "A social experiment,"

Y/n's brow furrowed as she watched Richie punch in the same Tom Jones song over and over and over. It was then she caught on to what he was doing. She held out a hand as her eyes watched the Jukebox.

"Hey, hey, hey, wait," she said, stopping Richie in his tracks.

He looked up at her with a pout. "Relax, toots. I saved just enough for their biggest basket of fries, you'll get them." Then Richie saw the look on her face. He could practically see the gears turning.

"No, not that. It's just..." she said, eyes never leaving the list of songs. "Before you put in more, you should throw in one It's Not Unusual,"

And that's when the afternoon went from good to great.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

By now, the duo had ordered and waited. They now sat tucked into a corner booth with a great view of the street corner and the passers-by of Derry. Changes had long since ended, and the remaining songs in the queue had trickled out. Richie memorized the song queue and was silently counting down until the big moment as he sat across from his battered-up best friend.

Her busted lip poked out in a bored pout, her chin propped up on her palm as she balanced her head on the table while looking out at the graying town landscape. It always escaped her how Derry could possibly look so gloomy on even the hottest, brightest days of summer. Until recently that is, the truth all too clear to her and her friends now.

The thought of the Losers scattered all over this hellhole only added to the gloom. They should all be here, together. Pointlessly debating which condiment goes best with fries, not fighting over... Over what they had fought over.

Y/n's eyes finally broke away from the manhole at the center of the little intersection outside and wandered over to Richie. He had stolen the salt and pepper shakers from a few empty (and not so empty) tables and was currently doing his best to construct a salt and pepper shaker tower. His tongue was sticking out from between his curled lips and his glasses were sliding to the end of his nose at the angle he looking. The tower was nearly three shakers high and Y/n could hear him muttering, 'where's Haystack when you need him?' under his breath.

The gloom Y/n had been thinking so intently on was suddenly ebbed away at the sight, and the corners of her lips hooked into a small smile.

At least she had her favorite Trashmouth.

"If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I'm gonna catch a cold," said Richie, never once looking up from his tower.

Y/n snorts. "You're unbearable,"

Richie shrugs defensively. "Hey, you're the one who said we're stuck with each other," he clicks his tongue and winks. "No going back on that kind of deal,"

"Oh, I meant what I said," Y/n releases her chin and folds both arms on the table. She hated getting all serious again, but she just needed to be sure. Her voice softens, trying to catch Richie's eye. "All of it, okay?"

Richie's hand around the salt shaker stops, and he pries his eyes off the tower and to his best friend. Despite her intentions and promises, everything that transpired the day before -- good and bad -- flooded over him and made him tense.

She suddenly offered him her pinky and a small smile.

"Stuck forever?"

Richie rolls his eyes. He didn't quite know who to blame, maybe just the losers in general, but he was going all soft and lame.

"Like my ass and a toilet seat, toots,"

He locked his pinky with hers and the deal was sealed forever.

Y/n leaned back on her side of the booth and took a large swig of the complimentary water as her eyes returned to the streets. The chatter of the diner had died down a little. There weren't as many people since they got there, but they were still filtering in and out. But when Y/n had a hard time shaking off the images she had of her best friend in the state he had been, she deems it safe enough to lean forward and lowered her voice.

"You know," she began picking at her napkin, making slow and tiny tears here and there. "I--" she sighs, not knowing how or where to begin. "I wouldn't blame you."

Richie, having abandoned his shaker tower, frowns.

"I wouldn't blame you if maybe, it was -- or is hard to be..." she shakes her head again and rubs her forehead trying to find the words. "I wouldn't blame you if it was hard to be around me and Eddie," She blurts.

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Richie says. "We're not gonna do that, okay? You have exceeded your sappy meter and you're gonna need to wait about 48 hours for it to charge up again. I think we've both had enough, right?"

Y/n swallowed her words. She swallowed any promise she was holding out to him that their feelings for Eddie wouldn't change anything. That she wouldn't ever want to stand in their way, however true it was. And instead, she made a new one.

"Let's just agree, whatever happens, happens. Let that be whatever it needs to be. Even if that means neither of us gets to see that adorable, asthmatic pipsqueak ever again. Deal?"

Y/n fought the bittersweet smile threatening to appear. She could see it now. Richie knew what he needed to know about himself now, and that was already a lot for him to handle. She could see in his eyes he wasn't ready for the possibility of whatever was his feelings for Eddie Kaspbrak.

Y/n's stomach turns to knots when the thought crosses her mind, but that only confirms to her it was time.

She looks around the diner, looking for prying eyes and she still finds none. She leans in, voice lowered as she fiddles with her napkin again. "I'm uh--," she clears her throat. "I've never told anyone this, but..."

She lets out a sharp breath. "Well, let's just say Eddie isn't the first Loser I've ever had feelings for,"

Richie shakes his head, making a "what am I supposed to do with that?" face at her sudden shyness. She only gives him a solid stare until it finally clicks.

Richie collapses against the seatback with a gaping, triumphant look.

"No. Fucking. Way," Richie slaps his hands on the table and leans forward, and an ugly excited laugh comes barreling out of his chest. "You big homo!"

"Would you fucking shut up?!" Y/n hisses, reaching over and shoving him back against his seat by his forehead. She looks around the diner and determines no one had heard that. Maybe except one guy in his forties, but that was most likely about him knowing they did something to the jukebox. He was sat with his young kids, looking tired and all too suspicious of their laughter at the jukebox. Finally, she laughs a little. "Beep, beep you moron."

"You telling me you and Little Orphan Annie...?"

"I'm saying," Y/n sighs, shrugging her shoulders. "I meant it when I said you're not alone, alright?"

The look in Richie's eyes hardly changes.

"No!" She answers. "No, nothing's happened but..." Y/n shook her head. "I had feelings for a really long time, up until about two years ago."

"Wowza," Richie sighs, leaning back into his seat and plopping one hand on the table. He sighs. "We sure know how to pick em,"

"Yeah, you could say that," Y/n laughs.

In fact, that's all she could say. A million things ran through her head, things she wanted to say to Richie but couldn't. Cause when she looked in Richie's eyes at that moment she -- they both -- knew everything unsaid could remain that way. With one look they knew. They knew that they could both count on each other, have each other's back. And that included Eddie too. They knew that no matter who held Eddie's heart, they could both agree that Eddie's happiness -- and each other's -- was most important.

The sound of brass instruments invaded the atmosphere, pulling the duo's eyes to the jukebox across the diner. Their faces lit up in matching grins, both of them nearly forgetting the psychological horror they had just unleashed upon the diner.

"What's new pussycat? Woah, wo~ah,"

And thus began the best meal they ever had.

- 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

Y/n relished at the demanding burst of cool air that bombarded her sweaty skin as she stepped inside Keene's pharmacy. The grip on the money she had scraped together tucked tightly in her right palm grew tighter when the shopkeeper's bell announced her arrival. Her eyes fell to her injured leg, and by now her feet have already begun their journey forward towards the first aid supplies. The last of the bandages secured around her leg, and she winced at the faded and stained cloth that was in dire need of a change.

Her eyes pick up from the ground when she hears a choked gasp only to find the boy that had been occupying her thoughts standing before her.

"Y/n," His voice is meek and heavy with sadness, and you can hear the absence of breath in his lungs that she always seemed to create.

Despite the staggering stampede of emotions she felt, she found herself releasing a chuckle. "Hey, shrimp."

The name itself would have been strong enough to send hooks into the corner of his lips, tugging them into a half-smile had it not been for the sight before him; she was a wreck. Looked as if she had been put through an actual wringer and his heart stops for a moment, in fear. At that moment he is grateful he has his inhaler, Y/n had a talent for taking his breath away but he never would have dreamed of it happening this way. Already his mind is going at twice its speed, a mad swarm of thoughts that dizzy his head, and as quickly as he can he tries to pluck one - just one - thing to say to her. When he finally speaks, he is thankful that his voice has returned to him.

"How's your leg?"

He doesn't have to ask, the first thing he saw - the very feature that tipped him off about her - was the blood-soaked bandages wrapped around her left calf. He couldn't imagine why it would still be bleeding, much less this profusely given how long ago it had been. Perhaps it had opened back up. And Eddie felt it best not to address the new set of scrapes and bandages that were scattered across her arms and legs, though each one filled him with worry. But her eye... it was completely swollen, and several shades darker than a usual bruise.

She grew rather sick looking at the question and instantly he was filled with dread. Had It gotten to her again? Was it something new entirely? Either way, he felt a great deal of guilt he hadn't been there, and more than anything he wanted her safe. Maybe, if it wasn't too crazy, be the one to look out for her. To protect her.

"I just," she swallows thickly, eyes darting around to avoid his eye line.

Eddie tilts his head, encouraging her to continue. She looks as if she's about to unload a great deal off of her chest, but after a moment she shakes her head.

"Nothing," she lies. "Just need new bandages."

Eddie's horrified expression does not waver, but only intensifies, zeroing in on her. He just simply can't ignore the state she's in. And while every instinct inside him screams to jump in and help, he knows that's not his call nor his place. But he had to ask, he had to know.

"Are you okay?" He blurts suddenly. He mentally slapped himself. Of course she wasn't. "What happened...? You're leg? You're eye? Are you in trouble at home? Was it...?"

She grows tense, and Eddie scolds himself once more when he sees her walls rebuilding themselves. He hated his stupid word vomit sometimes.

"No, Eddie!" she says tiredly, sighing at her slight outburst. "I'm..." she sighs again, staring at the floor, looking almost... calculated.

Finally, she picks her head back up, her expression flat, but her tone a bit softer. "Just Bowers. The usual."

Eddie couldn't help but feel like she was lying. And that hurt him. But he understood. If she had pressed him about things at home he probably would have done the same. Eddie sighed deeply as well.

He missed the way things were.

He missed Y/n.

He missed the feeling he got around her, the storm of butterflies and mind-numbing fits of laughter they'd bring out in one another. He missed the way his skin would tingle like every blood cell was on fire when their skin accidentally brushed together. Eddie missed the way he'd lose himself in thoughts about her like he was now.

Eddie didn't realize it until that last thought crossed his mind, but this was the first time in weeks he felt something other than anxiety and fear. And maybe he was crazy, but when he looked in Y/n's eyes now he thought he saw it too -

"I'm sorry, Eddie," she says, breaking him from his daydream, sending him falling back down to earth. "But I really need to take care of this."

He glances down at her leg, the bandage still soaked with blood and he feels fear squeeze his chest again. She was leaving. And that meant he had to, as well. He would have to say goodbye and go back home to his mother. He could hear her haunted cries, whining at him and wailing. What took you so long, Eddie? Don't you know what you're doing to my heart?

Eddie goes rigid at the thought when he realizes; the last time he saw Y/n... Those horrible things his mother had said to her and he... Jesus, what she must think.

"Y-Y/n," he sputters desperately as she begins to limp around him. She had gotten no answer for once again he had gotten lost in his thoughts. But he couldn't have it end like this. He just couldn't. "Y/n, I'm sorry."

She stops in her tracks and looks back at him, thoughtfully. A sad smile graces her face.

"I know, shrimp,"

Her eyes hold a thousand words, a million things she wants to say to him as he wants to say to her. But they die out, and she turns away.

"Y/n!"

He couldn't let her go, he just couldn't. Then why was this so difficult? He always had a mouthful to say, but around Y/n L/n, Eddie was always speechless.

"I wanna..." he gulps, a pleading, sincere look in his eyes. "I wanna see you again." He admits.

Y/n smiles sadly. Like she doesn't want to let him go either. But still, she gives him a pleading look after gesturing to her leg.

"Eddie, I gotta take care of this,"

His head sunk to the floor and he nodded, embarrassed. Of course, what the hell was he thinking? She didn't need him coming in and messing things -

Her sudden sigh broke his thoughts. "Meet me outside in five? I could use some help,"

A nervous smile broke out, stretching and hurting his cheeks and Eddie nodded when he met her eye. He was out the door without another word, back in the alley where he had first bandaged her up all those months ago.

His mind raced with possibility and more unanswered questions. What would he do, what would he say? What had happened to her, and could he have been there to stop it? His face still burned with embarrassment when he thought of the things he let his mother say to her, how livid he was with himself.

It was all he could do not to bounce off the walls from the jitters. The crates from the last alley visit, or at least some like it, remained and so Eddie eagerly took a seat. His knee bounced up and down at unnatural speeds as his mind raced, his eyes wandering the alley as the wind swept in a familiar summer breeze against his cheeks.

"I really need to focus right now," he orders, his hands making delicate work of the bandage over the new kid's stomach.

"You need to focus?" Richie snorts over his shoulder, causing Eddie's cheeks to burn.

"Yeah, can you go get me something?"

"Jesus! What do you need?"

"Go get my bifocals. I hid 'em in my second fanny pack."

Y/n leaned forward, balanced on her knees with a crooked smile that would with Eddie for days. "You have a second fanny pack?"

The burning in his cheeks grew, and Stan joined in. "Yeah, why do you have two?"

Eddie didn't dare meet anyone's eye, let alone Richie or Y/n's.

"I need to focus right now and it's a long story. I don't want to get into it."

Besides! He was telling the truth! He needed to focus. Who knows what kind of shit has gotten into this kid's system by now?

Eddie had nearly finished with the new kid's bandages when he heard the jingle of the store bell.

"Yep. Thanks." Came the hardened voice of Y/n backing out and towards the alley with a pressed and forced smile before turning for the alley and away from whoever she had been talking to. Eddie was the only one to have caught the small whispered words under her breath from the silence of the alley. "-for nothing, I guess..."

Eddie shot up from his seat, subconsciously straightening out his shirt.

"Everything okay? What was that all about?" He asked as Y/n finally joined him. Eddie sputtered, mentally kicking himself for prying. "I mean, you don't have to tell me or anything, it's just you seemed frustrated. You know what never mind, you probably want to get your leg fixed up, right?"

Eddie stopped again, shifting on his feet when he realized Y/n must be waiting to talk. "Sorry," he mumbled. And to his great surprise, she smiled.

"Don't be. I've missed your word vomit," she joked.

Eddie could feel the corners of his lips twitching up in a smile, and something happened to him he hadn't felt in a long time; flutters invaded his chest, making the air he breathed feel lighter and his stomach was doing flips. And he would have fallen harder had he known Y/n's stomach was doing flips right along with him, and a burning sensation lighting up her neck and ears.

"Well, here-" Eddie said, snapping out of his daze, no longer able to stand by and ignore the gash in her leg. He supposed it really was like old times. He stepped aside, gesturing for the crates and taking the bag of supplies Y/n had handed over.

"For real though," Eddie began, eyeing her nervously as he unzipped his fanny bag and begun fishing inside for hand wipes. "What happened, Y/n?"

Her smile fell, and her eyes dropped to her lap where her fingers fiddled together. To Eddie, it felt like a long time before she finally answered.

"A lot's happened since Niebolt, I'll leave it at that,"

Eddie nodded, and stepped forward, lowering himself to his knees before her injured leg, and began unwrapping the first of the supplies from her grocery bag. "It feels like years ago,"

"Yeah, it does," Y/n croaks.

There's another small silence and Eddie feels a tug in his chest when her eyes linger over him. He only spares a moment to meet her eyes back before taking a deep breath and holding it. With a wince, he unraveled the cloth and quickly discarded it. He tried not to linger on the injury; the edges of her claw-like scars remained, but it looked as if they had been messily pried back open.

Like deja vu, Eddie found himself battling to keep his lunch in his stomach, but the overall worry in his system for one of his best friends triumphed over it this time around. He dismissed the urge to gag and instead darted his eyes to Y/n in between his work.

"So..." he asked, realizing he didn't really know where to start. "how have you been? Other than, you know," he laughed nervously.

To his relief, Y/n smiled.

"It's hard not being around the losers. I only ever see Richie anymore. Even Bev and I haven't really spoken since the fight, which has been really hard. We've been in each other's lives for so long,"

As Eddie finishes cleaning the wound, his heart sinks a little at her words. True, he missed Beverly very much. But he also knew all too well what Y/n spoke of, and judging by the look in her eye as she softens at him, she knows it too. She gives him a gentle nudge with her foot.

"He misses you too," she says, growing another small smile. "Won't shut up about you, in fact. Which is saying something... Guess I'm one to talk, though," she adds, watching him nervously out of the corner of her eye, and Eddie's heart skipped another beat.

"What about you, shrimp? Dare I ask?" She says with a smile.

Eddie, Y/n noticed, had been unusually quiet. By now, on any other occasion, he would have talked laps around her by now but something was keeping him. Maybe he just feels a bit out of step, she thinks, as she did. It had been far too long since things had been normal for either of them. But something told her he was now particularly quiet perhaps because he wasn't all that eager to share how things had been for him since the losers split. She couldn't imagine things had been well at home with his mother given everything that had transpired.

So she didn't pry. She changes the subject, hoping to get his mind off of whatever might be bothering him. Her mind returns to his previous questions, and she bites the bullet.

"Quitting my job." She says finally, stunning Eddie enough to pull his attention away for a split second. "You wondered what I was doing there. And aside from restocking, I was um... I was quitting my job."

"You got a job at Keene's Pharmacy? When?" Eddie asked, reaching for a strip of gauze.

Y/n seemed to think about it for a minute, counting the days in her head before shrugging. Leaning forward, she holds the gauze in places Eddie begins applying the bandages. "I guess a little over two weeks after Niebolt. I did little things around the store, this and that really,"

"How come I never saw you?" Eddie asked, and Y/n shrugged.

"He had me running errands most of the time," and she smiled a little. "But sometimes I'd stick around a little longer. I'd offer to sweep or restock the shelves or something. It's stupid, I know, but... I don't know, I guess I was hoping to see some admittedly cute... shrimpy little dude come walking in to refill his inhaler. Is that stupid?"

Eddie paused, unable to hide the smile or the raging blush taking over his face. Y/n smiled to herself when she saw it, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't feeling a little bit of it too. Finally, Eddie spoke. Or at least, he tried to. His voice came out hoarse and he cleared his throat, quickly shaking his head as he secured the bandages in place and began disinfecting his hands.

"No. No, that's not stupid at all. I mean, I don't know if I'd say shrimpy, necessarily, maybe a little skinny but-"

Y/n laughed, smiling hard at the boy she hadn't stopped thinking about for weeks. Like Eddie, she hadn't realized just how much she had missed him until now. But, she hoped, maybe she could change that.

Eddie trailed off, his ears burning at her laugh but a smile on his face all the same. At this moment, everything was perfect. Or seemingly so, at least. And then...

"Thanks, Doctor K,"

He smiled, a sinking feeling in his chest knowing what was coming next as she hoisted herself back on her feet. "Yeah, of course."

A silence falls over the two, a silence they know won't last.

"I guess I should get going," Y/n says finally, gesturing down the alleyway. "I'm meeting up with Richie later, he's swinging by my place." And for a moment, she looks hopeful and Eddie already knows what she's going to ask. "You're welcome to come. We both really miss you,"

Yet again, Eddie Kaspbrak finds himself with a million thoughts racing in his head, but no words on his tongue. What could he say that wouldn't hurt her? What could he say that wouldn't essentially admit he was still a coward who couldn't stand up to his own mother? What could he say?

But evidently, he doesn't have to. Y/n can see it in his eyes, and any trace of hope deflates with her. She nods sadly, eyes now on the ground and her freshly bandaged leg. "I get it, Eddie. It's fine. You don't have to say anything."

"Y/n..." He didn't know what felt worse; knowing he let her down, or the sound of her using his real name.

"Really, it's okay,"

But it wasn't okay. And Eddie knew that. Today he had been given a second chance with Y/n, and already he had fucked it up. Or so he thought...

A smile returned to her face just before she left; it wasn't nearly as bright as it had been moments ago, but it was as real as any other he had seen all summer. And then she spoke. She spoke the three words over her shoulder as she disappeared out of view that returned a familiar spark to his chest.

"I'll call you."

There was hope yet.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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dumdumsun · 4 years

Text

Forever and Never

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this series ❤️ I’ve had so much fun writing this and am very proud of and excited for it, I can’t wait to see how people react to this. Um I know there are plenty of warnings for a first chapter, but I promise it’s not as depressing as it sounds. It’s just that this story can deal with heavy stuff sometimes, so I just wanna let you know that. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, death, sexual assault and mental illness

Word Count: 3194

—————————————

One: Hi, My Name Is

“So, what was your time in Pennsylvania like?”

“Uh… I’d have to say it was the best… and worst time of my life.”

“Best and worst, huh? Would you like to elaborate?”

“Well, I, uh… I mean, I don’t really know how to, like… explain it. It’s a lot. I don’t even know where to begin… Or how I would even word it or anything.”

“Well, you told me you like television and movies, right? You know those shows and movies where the main character tells the plot as, like, their life story? Maybe you could try that.”

“You aren’t… You aren’t serious, are you?”

“You’ll know when I’m joking, trust me.”

“Oh… Okay, then. Well, um…”

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

Hi? My name is… (Y/N)? This is my life story, I guess.

So, if we’re going to talk about my life in Pennsylvania, we’re going to have to start with my life in Kansas, first. I had two loving parents that soon turned into one at the too-young age of nine years, when my mom died. I remember her as one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known. She had this way about her that was so carefree, yet she gave a shit about everything. You could never pin a thought to her because she never let you in on what was bouncing around in her head. She was stubborn and patient and lively. I miss her so much. I don’t usually think about her unless it’s a particularly hectic day, which I then resort to talking to the ring I wear on my left pinky finger at all times. Wasn’t anything special, just some cheap ring with a little emerald inside she found at a thrift store. It used to be hers and she’d wear it on the exact same finger. My dad said she’d want me to have it.

My dad is my favorite person. He isn’t the most… present, though. His mind is never set in one place, always racing with hundreds of unrelated thoughts. It’s why when you finally drag him back into reality, he can’t repeat a single sentence spoken to him. Regardless, he’s all I had for a long time. I never really learned what he does for a living, but I just know that it forces him to leave town sometimes. Well, more like all the time. Before my mom died, it was easy for him to leave for weeks on end, but when he became my only guardian, he didn’t really know what to do with me. It was like he completely forgot how to take care of a child, his child. When I turned twelve, that was when he started travelling again. I would then be home by myself for a month to eight weeks. In these times, I had no choice but to learn to cook for myself, go grocery shopping and housekeep. I became pretty independent at a young age. It wasn’t like Dad left me totally alone, though. He would call every two or three days and he sent me two hundred dollars every two weeks. Like I said, I don’t know what my dad did, but he was definitely getting paid. At the end of eighth grade, Dad had a particularly long trip to go on, so he sent me to Pennsylvania, where his sister lived.

Pennsylvania was partially the best part of my life because of my family. My Aunt Pam was like a second mother to me. She was never able to have another child after my cousin Jacob and she’s always wanted a daughter of her own, so that’s what I was to her. The daughter she could never have. I’d often find her staring at me with a bittersweet smile on her face, watching my every move with a sense of pride, but when I’d ask her what was wrong she’d only brush it off as her admiring me. My Uncle David didn’t necessarily view me as a daughter, but he certainly treated me like one. When he wanted to spend time with Jacob, he included me as well. We’d usually go on drives around the town, but I always fell asleep to the soft and serene music that filled the car from the radio. On the weekends, we would head down by the lake and spend hours learning to fish.

I hated it, but I couldn’t complain. It gave me a sense of certainty to live with a father figure who didn’t leave me alone every two or three months.

Jacob was like a brother to me. He’s a year older than me, which, to him, meant that he had to protect me at all costs. I always assumed it was because he always wanted a younger sibling, and I was the closest he was ever going to get to that. I always felt as though I’d never be able to equal Jacob on an intellectual level because he practically had the IQ of Albert Einstein himself. I felt inferior to him until I found out how much of a joy he really was. On the weekends, he would beg me to accompany him in a movie marathon. I learned that Jacob was a huge fan of Tim Burton (his favorite was Beetlejuice). He’s the only cousin I’ve ever known. Mom and Dad didn’t like each other’s families, so I never met anyone besides this little family. Moving in with them meant that they’d have this huge burden on them.

Yes, I almost forgot to mention that I struggle with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or OCD. It just means that my mind is flooded with these crazy and unnecessary thoughts and so my behavior is affected by them. For example, if I were to blink and felt I put more pressure on my left eye than my right, I would have to repeatedly wink with my right eye until they felt balanced. Sometimes I can’t enter a room until I have inhaled eight times. If I scratch an itch on my left knee, I have to scratch the right one in the exact same place. At the sink, even if I don’t use both knobs, I have to hold both in my hands. And when I turn them off, I often have to check about four times before I am certain they’re turned off all the way. I know, it sounds tiring. Just imagine being on my end, having it be a part of who you are. I can’t do anything to stop it, I wish I could. I was always afraid to make friends because of this. If I couldn’t be balanced, I’d freeze, and I mean actually stop whatever I’m doing and stand still, until my body felt as if I were balanced once again. Who wouldn’t make fun of me for this?

Apparently, no one gave a shit about it. After moving to Pennsylvania, I made quite a name for myself at school. Literally. My name was Zip. I have no fucking clue how that ridiculous name came to be, but that’s what I went by day after day. One could say I was considered popular, but it wasn’t like I actually spoke to anyone. When it came to extracurriculars, I only participated in theatre. I never was part of the cast, just the stage manager. Secretly, I wanted so badly to audition and be a part of the magic they created on that stage. Not to boast or anything, but I had the talent and potential to be a starring role. But I could never bring myself to break out of my shell. Nonetheless, being stage manager still got me quite the attention. Everyone was always so nice to me, so I felt a little bad for not considering any of them as friends. That was until I met Dina.

Dina was new to our school sophomore year. She had this sort of light to her that attracted the pesky moths that were our dull and boring school body. We had the same social status in school. People liked our personalities, so we were well-liked and accepted without doing much to prove ourselves worthy. She was sweet and compassionate and so fun. I didn’t mean to become her friend, but she was so welcoming, despite being the newcomer. We became close friends, but not best friends. We already had people filling those roles.

Dina’s best friend was Sydney Novak. Sydney moved to Brownsville around the same time as Dina, so the two became best friends quickly, but Sydney wasn’t very popular at all. She was shy and introverted, but I thought she was nice enough. I liked her and thought she was a pretty cool person. We weren’t necessarily friends, we were just well acquainted simply because we were both close with Dina. The transitive property, if you would. I just wish we could’ve talked more, our relationship was pretty much nonexistent.

Speaking of nonexistent relationships, let’s talk about Richard Berry. I honestly don’t want to even think about him, but he played a role in my life that was too vital to just offhandedly mention. For some odd reason, Ricky Berry was absolutely in love with me. It was so obvious to everyone except for me. Sophomore year, he expressed his love through the most arrogant and cheesiest of pick-up lines and compliments. I wasn’t so easily won over, if you could guess. I tried being good friends with him, but he’d always fuck it up when he tried to initiate intimacy. I didn’t want to hold hands with him in the halls or receive “friendly” cheek kisses. I’m not what you would call affectionate, especially towards people I’m not close to. It’s just never been comfortable for me. Junior year, everyone around me was buzzing with excitement when they heard Ricky was going to ask me to be his girlfriend. The cheerleaders, who got to know him through his high school football career, constantly pestered me with reasons as to why I would be so lucky to date The Richard Berry. Granted, he became less of a dick junior year, so I thought, Why not?, and accepted. Being in a relationship with Ricky was the most one-sided… anything I had ever been a part of. He was undeniably enamored with me, but I couldn’t find it in myself to reciprocate those feelings. He would show me off to his family and friends like a trophy, but if someone asked me if I had a boyfriend I’d go, “I mean, yeah. I guess”, so not a very healthy relationship. It also didn’t help that Ricky knew nothing about boundaries.

One night, we were in his bedroom, studying for a science test. Ricky wasn’t focused at all and kept trying to kiss and cuddle with me. I let him for awhile, but then he took my book from me and set it on the ground beside his bed. He suggested we have sex right then and there. Now, I was never a prude and definitely didn’t wait to have sex for the first time, but I never wanted Ricky to be my first. He hadn’t earned enough of my trust to even touch me suggestively. So, of course I refused. Ricky only took that as me teasing him, so he advanced, nearly forcing himself on me. Using all my might, I shoved him off of the bed. He stood to his feet, utterly confused, but I only gathered my things and left his house. He tried following after me, but I ignored him until he turned and went back into his home. The next day at school, he was holding me and kissing me and showing me off to everyone like he always did. As if nothing happened between us the night before. It was difficult to do, since he was so inconsiderate, but I managed to break up with him. He tried to deny that we were Splitsville for about a week, but everyone caught wind of our break-up. Once everyone knew about it, it became true for him. I never really felt comfortable with being intimate or open with guys after that.

Besides with Stanley Barber, of course. Stan was my best friend in the entire world. I told only my deepest, darkest secrets to him. And he told me his. The only things we really had in common were our lack of mothers and our hideous bacne. Stan lived a few houses down and was eager to get to know me a week after I moved in. I’d never met anyone in my life like Stan. He was so awkward, but loveable. I don’t know, I guess he reminded me of my mom. The way he didn’t care, but he so clearly did. Whenever I wanted to talk about something that was difficult to voice, we’d smoke to ease the tension. Of course, this wasn’t how we always communicated. Despite his nervous stuttering, he was easy to open up to. Stan provided a sort of security in my life. He was never going to leave me and that put me at ease when hanging out with him, which we did regularly. I don’t know when exactly I developed a crush on him, but I never wanted it to surface in our bond. He was to never know. It was just a stupid crush, right? He was a guy who wasn’t family and was so unbelievably caring towards me. It was bound to happen, but that didn’t mean he had to be aware of it. Though, it was a little hard to keep such a secret when we’d both made out twice already. The first time was while I was dating Ricky, the kiss was very awkward and ended after about a minute and a half. The second kiss was just half a week after my breakup. That time, we’d both known what we were doing. And I may be a little biased, but you couldn’t have even thought to fake the passion in that makeout session. We never talked about either of those kisses and remained friends both times. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that we didn’t become anything more afterwards. It was for the best, though, because two weeks before spring break, my dad returned from his job in Georgia and moved me to Kansas again. The move was so abrupt that I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to anyone besides my family.

My life in Kansas for the second time was something I’d never want to experience ever again. Since it was a little late in the year, I finished junior year online. For some unexplained reason, my dad had us get new phones and new numbers, so I lost all contact with my friends. I had no one to talk to and it wasn’t like my dad paid much attention to me. I remember spending every waking moment with him when I was younger, talking or playing games or watching television. It used to be so fun being his daughter, but when we moved back to Kansas, I just felt like this huge burden in his life. Our relationship was strained and he clearly had other priorities in his life. Like whatever he left back in Georgia. I’d see his phone ring and the same number from that state would pop up before he’d leave the room and privately talk with whoever. It wasn’t the secrecy that was off-putting to me, it was the fact that it was so much more important to him. Once again, I was ignored by the one person in my life I wanted to spend the most time with. So, you can imagine the joy I felt when Dad had to go back to Georgia for work. I had been attending public school for my senior year and left not even a full month in. It didn’t bother me, I had no friends and nothing to leave behind. Mid-September was when I moved back to Brownsville with Aunt Pam. Everyone accepted me right back in. Especially my classmates. As I walked the halls I heard whispers like,

“Oh, my god, is that Zip?”

“Zip’s back! Where’d she even go?”

“I thought she died.”

The only person I really wanted to notice me was Stan. I missed him so much, I even got into his favorite band to have something to remember him by. I remember the day I got back to my aunt’s house. Jacob had picked me up from the airport and was driving me to the house. He was attending community college, but was still living with his parents. As we drove, he tapped his index fingers rhythmically to the shitty pop music that played on the radio. “So, what are you excited about for senior year?”

“Not much, I just missed Dina and Stan. Theatre, too. I wonder how they’ve been doing without me.” I chuckled. Jacob huffed in amusement.

“But you didn’t miss Ricky?”

“Fuck, Jake, you know I didn’t miss him for a second.” I frowned, waving my hand in dismissal. My cousin tauntingly laughed at me. Had he actually known about what happened between Ricky and I, he wouldn’t have teased me. In fact, Ricky wouldn’t even be alive that day if Jacob found out. No one knew about the incident, not even Stan.

Pulling up in front of the house, we got out of the car and headed to the trunk to pull out my bags. I tried carrying them in, but Jacob insisted that he do all the heavy lifting and simply asked me to carry my backpack and close the trunk. I did what little I was asked of and headed to the front door to greet my aunt and uncle inside, but stopped. In the corner of my eye, I saw movement from the Barber residence. Turning, my eyes locked on Stanley, who was frozen beside his car. He was wearing his work uniform and staring at me with the most bewildered expression on his face. It was like he thought himself to be hallucinating my existence. Smiling, I simply waved at him before walking back inside. When he got home from work that night, he headed over to my house and knocked on the door. I answered with a grin on my face. “Stan!”

“If it isn’t the famous Zip, showing back up in my life.”

“Ugh, do not call me that.” I rolled my eyes playfully before bringing him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin at the top of my head. I would’ve stayed there all night if I could’ve. When Stanley pulled away, my heart hollowed and a pit formed within my stomach. I felt unfinished, unbalanced. And I hate imbalance. He asked if I wanted to hang out and I accepted his offer. All we did was lay on his floor, listen to music and get high, but in that moment, that’s all I needed.

Bloodwitch, a joint, and Stan laying by my side.

—————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt stanley barber #forever and never

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beautifultypewriter · 3 years

Text

Stage Door ~ Sean Wallace

Requested: No

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,062

Pairing: Sean Wallace x fem!oc

Summary: When Sean is dragged to the theatre with his family the last thing he expects is to meet a young woman who captures his attention so brilliantly.

A/N: I have so much to say, so please bear with me. First of all, since Gangs of London is now on AMC, I am able to watch it and honestly I have missed seeing Joe Cole on my tv screen. Like I don’t completely understand what’s happening on this show (I’m only on episode 6 - I am behind), but I dig it and mostly because of him. This is written with my OC. I use her name, but there’s no description of her other than the mention that she is Irish, so I’m gonna tag it the way I’m gonna tag it. I doubt anyone is even going to read this. Also it’s written in 3rd person instead of my usual 2nd. Also it takes place before any of the events from the show.

The theatre was the absolute last place that Sean wanted to be that night, but his father had gotten the tickets as a way to make his mother happy, so he couldn’t say no. Sean couldn’t say no to his father about anything really. Going to the theatre on a Friday night was the least of his worries. The lights flickered and Sean looked up, wondering how a fancy theatre in the West End would have flickering lights, but then he noticed everyone else sitting in their seats and ending their idle chatter. Then the lights turned off completely and the curtain rose, the orchestra beginning a slow but strong tune. Sean wasn’t entirely sure what this play was supposed to be about, but his mother had raved about how great it was, so he figured he would try to pay attention.

Paying attention was easier said than done. There was so much going on in just the beginning and Sean was having trouble keeping the different characters straight. All the singing wasn’t really helping either. He desperately wanted to close his eyes, but his mother was right next to him and he didn’t want to disappoint her. When he was sure he could get away with it, he let his head roll back just a bit and he squeezed his eyes shut. This had to be over soon. Sean felt someone squeeze his arm and just as quickly as he closed his eyes, his attention was back on the stage.

And there she was. A simple dress and a timid look on her face as the other actors on the stage surrounded her and sang at her with threatening tones. Sean couldn’t pull his eyes away from her. He watched her fall apart on stage, the scene changing to some shady alleyway and new actors replacing the others, but still just as menacing towards the woman. The timidness that had been on her face previously had melted away to fear to exhaustion to hopelessness. And for the first time since the show had started, the chaos of the stage slowed, and everyone moved away to the wings… everyone except for her. She was alone, still in her simple dress, crumpled on the floor in the middle of the stage. The music carried lightly through the space as she lifted herself up, her arms wrapping loosely around her frame and her voice small as she sang. Sean watched her every move. His eyes trailed over her form, gliding over each and every tiny movement of her head, the rise and fall of her chest as her voice gained power and the music swelled. Sean could feel himself sliding forward in his seat, wanting to be as close to her as he could be. The woman’s voice flooded his senses, and he was finding it difficult to breathe. His chest tightened at the pain in her voice and he briefly wondered how she was able to do all this.

And then it all stopped. Her voice faded out and Sean could breathe again as she stared out into the audience without really seeing them. Everyone around him was applauding, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He just stared.

The story carried on and her character died, and Sean found himself losing interest now that she was no longer on the stage. It wasn’t until later, at the very end of the production that she came back. He straightened up as she glided onto the stage, still in a simple dress, but this one white, and a serene smile on her face. Her voice was soft and comforting now and if Sean had been different then he may have cried at the feeling she was pulling from his chest.

The curtain fell shut and everyone was on their feet, applauding. Sean stood slowly as he clapped along with the crowd. The curtain rose again, and the cast came out to take their final bows. He searched for her and he found her nestled between her castmates, a small smile on her face as they stepped forward and clasped hands, bowing until the curtain fell on them again. Sean stared at the spot where she had been as everyone filed out around him, his own family lingering by their seats for a moment until his father was approached by a man. He had missed most of the conversation, but snapped to attention when Jac looped her arm with his and started pulling him after Billy and their parents. He leaned down to his sister, “Where are we going?”

She shook her head, a quiet laugh on her lips, “Backstage tour,” she rolled her eyes, “only the best for the Wallace family.”

Sean had never cared much for the theatre, but he was honestly impressed with the backstage. The mechanics of the curtain and the different set pieces was something that did interest him, and he reached out to touch one of the ropes, but stopped when the man’s voice sounded from in front of him,

“Ah and here we have our own Fantine,” he held his arms out and she was there. Sean tensed as he looked her over. She was still in her white dress, and she was still smiling, only now she looked almost shy. The man motioned her forward, “May I present Imogen O’Connor.” She gave a small wave as she looked over each member of the Wallace family. The man continued, “Imogen, this is Finn Wallace, a very influential businessman here in London.”

She held her hand out and Sean’s father kissed her knuckles briefly as he smiled at her, “I have my family here with me.” He turned to the rest of them and motioned to his wife, “My wife, Marian,” then he turned to the children, “my daughter Jacqueline, and my sons, Billy,” Sean’s brother gave her a small smile and a wave, “and Sean.” Her eyes landed on him, and Sean couldn’t breathe again.

She smiled at him before turning to the group again, a familiar lilt to her voice as she addressed them all, “It’s a pleasure to meet you and thank you for coming to the show.” Her eyes fell on Sean again, “I do hope you enjoyed it.” He wanted to open his mouth and tell her that yes, he enjoyed her very much, but her attention was stolen by his mother.

Marian had beamed at the woman, “It was a lovely show, and your performance was spectacular.”

Imogen smiled as she looked down to her feet, “Thank you, that’s kind of you to say.”

His father stepped forward again, “From up North then?”

“Aye, Cavan.” Sean looked between the three as they made small talk, wanting to interject, but having no cause to do so.

His father smiled wistfully, “Oh? Cavan’s beautiful, I hear.”

She nodded, “Yes, sir, it is. Nothing like London.” The two of them laughed and Sean caught her eye again, causing her to look down.

His mother smiled, “How long have you been in London?”

Imogen shrugged as she looked around, “Oh, not long. A couple of months.” She nodded as she looked behind her for a brief moment then turned back to his mother, “Still trying to get used to the big city.” She smiled at them all again, “I’m terribly sorry, but I’ve got to be goin’. It was a pleasure to meet you all and thank you again.” There were a few mumbled goodbyes and Sean watched her walk away from their group. She turned back once to smile at him and he managed a small wave in her direction.

It was only a few nights later that Imogen found herself backstage after another successful performance, a few of the other girls around her as she stared into a mirror, wiping off her makeup. The week had been a long one and she was glad for the day off tomorrow.

“Imogen, you’ve got an admirer.” The Cavan girl turned to her castmate to see her pointing over her shoulder towards the door to their dressing room.

Imogen shook her head, “Catch yourself on, Sam. Who’d be waitin’ out there for me?”

Samantha shrugged as she smiled, “I don’t know. All I know is that a fit lad is out there asking for you and he’s got a big bouquet of flowers in his hand.” Imogen could feel her body heat up. She truly didn’t know anyone in the city, so who could possibly be bringing her flowers? She didn’t have any more time to dwell on the question though because she was being gently shoved towards the door, Samantha’s quiet laughter ringing in her ears.

Imogen stumbled out into the hallway; the dressing room door swinging shut behind her. She cleared her throat as she hesitantly looked up to see her “admirer.” A smile broke out on her face when her eyes met those of the young man from the other night, “Mr. Wallace.”

Sean’s face twisted as he shook his head, “Please, just Sean.”

She nodded to him, her smile growing smaller, “Sean.”

He seemed to relax as his shoulders dropped and he smiled at her, “Miss O’Connor.” Imogen pursed her lips as she folded her arms over her chest and Sean laughed, glancing down and back up quickly, “Imogen.” She smiled again, tucking some hair behind her ear as she looked down at his shoes. He cleared his throat, gaining her attention, and held out a bouquet of pink lilies towards her, “These are for you.” Reaching out, she gently took the flowers in both her hands, looking them over. She looked up at him, but before she could get a word out, he was speaking again, “That was an amazing performance.” He pointed over his shoulder, towards the stage, nodding his head.

She smiled, “Thank you and thank you for the flowers,” she looked down at the bouquet again, “they’re beautiful.” Imogen looked up to Sean again, quickly glancing behind him, “Here alone tonight?” She gave him a knowing smile and he nodded.

“Thought I might treat myself to a night at the theatre.” Before she could stop herself, Imogen let out a laugh, which she then tried to cover up by pulling the flowers up to her nose. Sean looked offended as he placed his hand over his chest, “Do I not look like the type of man to enjoy the arts?”

Trying to control her smile, Imogen lowered the flowers, “Truthfully?” Sean nodded and she bit her lip, his eyes darting to the movement as she shook her head, “No, not really.”

He scoffed, a smile threatening to break loose, “What kind of man do I look like then?”

Tilting her head from side to side, Imogen narrowed her eyes and brought her index finger to rest against her chin. Sean grinned as he held his arms out to the side, his head tilted slightly as he waited for her to finish her assessment. She smiled, “You look the type of man who does his honest day’s work and then goes down the pub for a drink with his mates, watches whatever game is on the telly.” Sean nodded and she chuckled.

He stepped closer to her, “If we’re being truthful then the reason I came down to the show tonight was because I wanted to see you again and I thought that, if you had the time, then I could show you around London,” he shrugged one shoulder, “help you get used to the place.” Imogen tightened her grip on the lilies as Sean’s words rattled around in her brain.

Then she smiled at him, “I’ve a free day tomorrow and no plans.” Her eyes moved down to the floor again as she cleared her throat.

Slowly, Sean placed his fingers under her chin and lifted until their eyes met and then he smiled, “Tomorrow it is then.” She nodded at him, moving quickly to peck his cheek before she stepped back from him, waving as she slipped back into the dressing room. The door was ajar and he could hear a few voices whispering to each other as he stood waiting, rocking back on his heels. The whispering ended abruptly and Imogen was in front of him again.

She held out a slip of paper as she smiled, “Tomorrow.”

#sean wallace x reader #sean wallace x oc #sean wallace imagine #gangs of london imagine

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hostess-of-horror · 3 years

Text

Danse Macabre

Finally! After so many days of writing, I have finally finished my biggest fanfic yet! It's another Phantom x Peach fanfic and it is a bit of a sequel to my previous one "Encore at Midnight". I had this really cool story concept for a little while and I felt like I just could not do anything else unless I write it down. It was a bit of an experiment since I had to do a little bit of research just to pull some things off (however, it is far from perfect, so please forgive me). Also, I have officially made some OCs for this fanfic, yay! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy what I have created!

Number of Pages: 17

Word Count: 9358

[Content includes: Themes of Death/Mortality and Some Suggestiveness (not smut though!), OC “Death”, Graphic Body Horror, and Slight Profanity]

For @salamifuposey, @kindpopstar, @jawaii-chan, and everyone else who wants to read this fanfic!

____________________________________________________________

My Dearest Princess,

Forgive my absence these past few days. I have been preparing the final touches in my newest masterpiece, and I have been dying to show you what I have created. It is something I have not done before; consider it an experiment of sorts. My excitement cannot be contained any longer! Tonight, I invite you to a performance unlike anything you have seen before. I have arranged a carriage to arrive at your castle at around midnight. It will take you to Spooky Trails, where I have made refuge, and you will be accompanied along the way. She will be your guide, and I assure you she will not lead you astray. I pray you receive this letter and that you accept the invitation.

Your Humble Host,

---

Princess Peach reads and rereads the letter. So many questions run through her mind. What does he mean by “experiment”? What kind of performance will this be? And who is this guide? She looks up from the letter, and across from her is an unfamiliar face. Sitting across from her is a woman looking out of the carriage window, admiring the night sky. Or, at least it seems like she is, for the bright reflection on her tea shades completely covered her eyes. Her guide is abnormally slender and taller than her, however she could not tell exactly how much. Her alabaster skin pops in contrast of her dark attire, which consists of a frilly ivory blouse and high-low trail skirt, a velvet violet corset, leather pants, and a long onyx black coat embellished with jewels. Her frizzy, unkept silver hair is pulled up into two buns with small strands of hair shimmering like a diamond. Peach had never seen anyone quite like her before; it’s like she came from another world entirely. The guide turns her attention from the view towards Peach and smiles. Peach averts her eyes and looks towards the window – it was rude to stare, especially at a stranger. “So, you must be the one my master has been interested in all this time? He has told me so much about you.”, the guide spoke. Peach brings her attention back towards the guide. “I am, miss.”, she responds, “And, he has?”

“Oh yes! He is simply infatuated with you! I dare say, obsessed, even. And now that I have a chance to see you up close, I can definitely see why.”

“Infatuated is a good word to describe him. He has shown his affection quite often since our first reunion.”

“Has he now?”

“Mm-hmm. He’s been nothing but a gentleman towards me, even if he does get pretty… excitable from time to time.”

“Consider yourself lucky, your highness. Having an enthusiastic partner makes the relationship a lot more interesting!”

“Well, yes, I agree… I- um…”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Phantom and I have only met a little while now; almost a month I believe. I’m not sure if I want to start referring to him as my partner.”

“Just yet, you mean?”

“Oh, please don’t get me wrong, I do like him! I just like to… take things a little slow.”

“Ah, I see. I completely understand. You want to get to know him a little bit more before you make any decisions. A rather smart move on your part.”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t tell anyone this, but my master isn’t one to do such a thing. That is not to say he’s completely reckless, but whenever there’s something – or someone – he’s interested in, he becomes determined. Stubborn even. And personally, it is not his best quality sometimes. It makes him look like a moron. A blind one at that.”

“I guess you can say he becomes inspired. Phantom is an artist, after all. Art is meant to invoke emotion, no matter the medium. It would make sense that he himself is the same way.”

“Insightful! And right you are.”

“Not to mention, Phantom is an opera singer. Opera, of course, is highly emotional and very dramatic, and so is he.”

“That too. I know this might be a personal question, but your first reunion with my master…”

“Yes?”

“What happened that night? I ask because I remember seeing him wallowing in shame after his trip over to the Mushroom Kingdom. When he returned, he threw himself onto his fainting couch, murmuring curses, almost about to cry.”

“Oh my! Well, Phantom was in the ballroom inside my castle that night. He was singing this beautiful melody. When I found him, we talked for a bit and discovered we both have something in common.”

“And what would that be?”

“Companionship.”

“Ah…”

“As we talked, he told me about his life after that battle at Spooky Trails a few years ago. He was so lonely, unable to find friends to call his own. Soon he became… anxious. I cannot describe exactly what came over him, but it was obvious he was in pain. Then, his eyes turned red, and suddenly darkness. I fainted.”

The guide stares at Peach, her mouth slightly agape. Although her tea shades cover her eyes, her expression is readable. It is a look of shock – that look of knowing exactly what had just happened with Phantom on that very night. She sighs, “I see. That is not the first time he has done that. My master can be terrifying when he has his moments.”

“Everything was just so overwhelming. I was scared, yes, but afterwards I was more concerned of his well-being. I cannot bear to see someone in pain; being alone can take a toll on anyone… Oh, that poor thing! He must’ve thought that he harmed me when I fainted!” Peach exclaimed. Silence takes over the conversation. Peach’s eyes wander towards the carriage floor while the guide’s attention never breaks. Her eyebrows furrowed, Peach fidgets with her gloves. The guide adjusts her position, leaning over towards the worried princess. She reaches out and holds her hand; Peach stops fidgeting. “I’m glad that you care about him, your highness. Very few do.” she gently smiles, “There have been many times I believed that the only people who care about him is me and the others.”

“The others?”, Peach asks.

“The rest of my master’s theatre troupe. Just like him, we are all one with music.”

“…may I ask what is your name?

“My name? Oh-! my name, how could I forget my manners? How rude of me! I am Dolores, your highness.”

“And if I may ask as well, if you don’t mind, where do you come from?”

Before Dolores has a chance to answer, a flash of shadows sped by the carriage. Dolores motions towards the window, her head peeking out, looking over the view. Her pearl white teeth shows as she grins from ear to ear. “We’re almost there! Ah, soon you will experience the greatest show yet, Princess Peach!”, she exclaims with glee. Peach takes a look at her window. Memories flooded her mind like a rushing river coursing through the barren earth. Spooky Trails.She remembers now; it was all coming back to her. This was all leading to the very location where her battle with Phantom took place. She, alongside Mario, Luigi, and a few Rabbids, witnessed Phantom’s creation and fought him as he flaunted about on the old, decrepit stage. To think, he was an almost entirely different person. Phantom wasn’t as gentlemanly as he is as of recently, but since their first reunion, he has been wanting things to change.

He wants her. Her heart. Her soul. Her beauty. Everything.

To think it has come to this. To think the princess, who has been known for being saved by her plumber in shining armor and being in love with him, would fall for such a character. But has she truly fallen for Phantom? Or is it all just nonsense? If it was just nonsense, then why would she accept the invitation? Peach takes in the environment as the carriage rolls across the cobblestone path, driving through the dead trees and the old, seemingly abandoned village. Despite having never returned after the battle, Peach regains her memories of Spooky Trails, almost to the point of knowing exactly where Phantom resides. Dolores returns to her position, her shining grin still on her face. Peach turns her attention back at Dolores and asks, “What was the inspiration behind this performance?”

“I would tell you, but it would ruin the surprise! My master has ordered all of us to never reveal his masterpiece until it is time.” Dolores answers.

“Oh…”

“All I can say is that this is no ordinary performance. My master is quite the visionary, you know!”

“Very well, then. I won’t ask any more questions, if it’s going to ruin the surprise.”

“Are you excited, your highness?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not often that I get invited to such events.”

“Really? But you’re royalty! I thought you would be invited to all sorts of performances.”

“I do, but it just doesn’t happen that often, and I honestly don’t know why. I adore the theater!”

“We all do too. Our lifestyle is nothing but the theater… quite literally!”

“Gosh, that must be so wonderful, to be part of a theatre troupe. To perform for all to see, to entertain others through amazing plays! I’ve always wished to join when I was a little girl.”

“Oh! Would you look at that! We’ve finally arrived!”

After what it seemed like more than an hour, the carriage, at long last, finally stops. Dolores gets up from her seat, slowly crawling her way out of the carriage. Her elongated body almost struggles through the small door, but she succeeds with grace. She then offers her hand to Peach with a softer smile, “Your midnight show awaits, Princess Peach…” Taking Dolores’ hand, Peach steps out of the carriage and immediately she is greeted by a massive silver gate. The very gate that stands guard the entrance to Phantom’s stage. It is beautifully sculpted, shaped into swirls and patterns holding up an illuminating full moon, with two music notes placed on each side as the borders. Yes, Peach remembers now. Dolores walks up to the gate and peers through it. She waves at something or something – Peach could not tell – and opens it, allowing themselves to enter. Peach follows behind. She didn’t know how tall Dolores was when they were in the carriage, but now she could get a good look at her stature. Dolores was tall – taller than any human she has ever seen before. If Peach could guess, her guide was three to four (maybe five!)feet taller than her and was practically towering over her. Ever since they met, she had this feeling of uneasiness. Who is this woman? What is this woman? Where did she come from? So many questions. There was something off about Dolores, and it wasn’t necessarily her abnormal physique. There was something, but Peach couldn’t put her finger on it. Whatever it was…. Perhaps she doesn’t need to worry too much about it.

Approaching the decrepit stage, the two ladies are met by a small man wielding a large, glowing lantern. This man is the opposite of Dolores in terms of height and physique. He is a short and stout dwarf, donning a regal yellow robe over his slightly mismatched clothes. The light emanating from the lantern reveals his nicely trimmed beard, his long, curly chocolate brown hair tied back into a ponytail, his fluorescent amber eyes giving them a warm welcome. His smile grew bigger once Dolores waves again; he waves back. “Dolores, there you are! And you brought our special guest! Wunderbar! It is a pleasure to meet you, eure hoheit.”, the dwarf greets them, bowing in courtesy. “Are the others ready, Stefan?”, Dolores asks.

“We’ve been ready for a while now. Just making sure everything is perfect for tonight.”

“And what about our master?”

“He will not show his face. In fact, he wants me to tell you that no one must see him until he has shown himself to us all.”

“Ah, well that makes things interesting.”

“I agree. Anyway, enough chit chat! Let us proceed! We must not keep our master’s little freundin waiting.”

“Por favor, Stefan! Don’t tease… that’s my job.”

Stefan chuckles as he ushers them to go into the stage. Dolores follows Stefan, and Peach follows Dolores. They all walk deeper through the torn platform and dusty curtains. Damaged props, broken wires, hanging ropes, and mangy fabrics scatter the place. The further deeper they went, the larger the backstage seems to be. Peach looks in awe as she continues to follow her guides. Who knew that this abandoned stage held such secrets? After a few minutes of walking, Stefan places his lantern on the floor, lighting up the entire floor, and begins to crawl on his hands and knees. His fingers trace the nooks and crannies of the floorboards, mumbling to himself. He searches until he finds a small hole and grabs it. The hole turns out to be a handle, and Stefan pulls and lifts up the floorboards. He reveals a decent sized door leading to a much darker pathway – a long stone stairway stretching far into a secret tunnel. Stefan’s lantern gave light to the darkness, making the trip down into the underground refuge much less intimidating. Dolores holds Peach’s hand as they go down the stairs. This was such an odd way of attending a performance. Peach could not imagine what kind of performance involves having to venture underground in order to see it. What could she possibly expect from all of this? Part of her mind began screaming for help, pleading to go back to the Mushroom Kingdom. Part of her mind wanted normalcy, no surprises. It wanted her to stop and return to her chamber, to her castle, to Mario and her friends. However, the other part was curious. It was that familiar curiosity – the same curiosity she had when first reunited with Phantom. She could never forget that night. Never in a lifetime. Everything about him, whether it be music or shadow, is just so…. Alluring.

Alluring… Beguiling… Captivating… Enchanting…

Her mind finally gives in. She goes for the latter. How could she not? She has ventured too deep into this tunnel to start leaving. For once, she is able to take a break from her royal duties. To forget her troubles. To finally experience something new. For once. As for curiosity, she was more concerned about Phantom. Why would he not allow anyone to see him? Of course, it must be for the performance, but what exactly does Phantom have in store? The more Peach thought about him, the more impatient she became. Phantom. Oh, where are you, Phantom? Her mind falls into that familiar trance. She wants to see him again. She wants to hear him again. Perhaps Peach has become just as obsessed as he is with her. This must be an addiction. It must be. If it wasn’t, then she would never be where she is right now. Whether it be curiosity, obsession, or madness, Peach will continue to walk into shadow if it meant she will meet her friend again. Stefan, Dolores, and Peach finally reach the end of the tunnel, finding a wooden door decorated with gold etchings, which looked out of place amongst the cobweb-shrouded stone walls. With a strong push, Stefan enters through, allowing the door to creak wide open. Behind the door is a humongous hallway, adorned from wall to wall with a vast multitude of paintings, flyers and posters of plays and musicals, candles, and curtains. To think a dusty tunnel would lead to a beautiful makeshift palace! It’s like discovering a treasure chest inside of a dank, murky swamp. Is this where Phantom was residing all these years? Peach gasps. Dolores turns around and smiles, “Welcome to our humble abode, your highness. In this place, music is our lifeforce. We eat, we drink, we breathe, we sleep in music. Just like our master, we are not only creators of art – we are art itself. And tonight, we shall once again breathe life into another masterpiece. I cannot describe how immensely happy we all are. We are so glad that you accepted our master’s invitation, you will not regret it! Now, come along with me, let us go into the Ladies’ Dressing Room. Natasha has designed a wonderful costume for you to wear, and Ophelia will help you with your hair and makeup. I assure you they will make you absolutely gorgeous. Of course, that is not to say you’re not already beautiful.”

Stefan leaves the two ladies and heads towards the Gentlemen’s Dressing Room, which is across from the Ladies’ Dressing Room to the left, placing the lantern onto an iron hook built into the wall. “Well, I’m going to get myself ready and meet up with the others. I’ll see you all at the Gallery! Bis bald!”, he says as he closes the door. Dolores enters through the door to the right and holds it open for Peach to walk into the room. There sitting inside are twin sisters, both garbed in fine, flowy silk and chiffon gowns, working on their latest projects. To the left is a somber young lady sitting near a vanity, dressed all in Aegean and periwinkle blue, her pale pink hair intertwined into exquisite dreadlocks that reaches down to her shoulders. Wrapped around her head is a flower crown composed of lavender, Baby’s Breath, Fairy Foxgloves, and Forget-Me-Nots. To the right is a cheery young lady wearing a similar gown but in shades of fuchsia and rose, checking over the details of an extravagant costume, which is porcelain and peach in color. Her pale blue hair is also made of dreadlocks, as well as composed with the same flowers with the addition of small vines, but is pinned up into a lovely cornrow braided bun. The twin in pink looks up from her work and gasps, “Dolores, you’re back! And the princess is here! Ophelia, look! They’re here!” Ophelia turns around, her saddened expression softening into a weak smile, “Oh, hello again. And it’s nice to finally meet you, your highness.”

Dolores greets them back, turning her attention back to Natasha’s project, “Is the costume ready?”

“Yes, it is! I was just making sure everything’s perfect!”

“It looks amazing! Buen Trabajo!”

“Aww, thank you!”

“Alright, now we must hurry. I need to be in costume. I’ll meet you all in the Gallery, and don’t dottle please.”

“Don’t worry, Dolores, we’ll be ready as soon as possible.”

Dolores leaves Peach with Natasha and Ophelia, entering through a darkened room to get ready for the performance. Once she leaves, Peach witnesses what is perhaps the most amazing thing she has ever seen. The speed in which Natasha and Ophelia got her ready for the performance was astounding. What should have lasted for about a few hours or so ended up lasted for a few mere minutes! No human possesses this level of speed, especially with makeup. Any makeup artist would take their time getting every detail right. There would be no possible way anyone could apply eyeshadow, eyeliner, blush, concealer, lipstick, and every other detail really fast without messing up. But Ophelia proved that such an ability was possible. Natasha was no different. She helped Peach get into the extravagant costume without any struggle at all, as it fit perfectly onto her frame. How did she get her size just right? And it’s so comfortable too! “And… done! Oh, look at you! You are just beautiful, your highness! Don’t you think so, Ophelia?”, Natasha exclaims happily, proud of her job well done. “Oh yes, I agree…”, Ophelia smiles weakly again. Peach looks over to a nearby mirror. They were right; she is beautiful. Perhaps even more so, she thinks to herself, for she had never worn anything like this before. It is true that, being of royal blood, she is accustomed to an extremely elaborate (and expensive) wardrobe. But this… this is different from any other dress. It is a ballroom gown, completely encrusted with diamonds and pearls, with lovely black roses making a long trail from her waist down to the skirt. The white skirt is massive, flowing down towards the floor like a mass of billowing fog. Her shoulders and bosom are exposed completely, giving room for a glistening choker made of the same jewels. Her hair is done up in a high bun, lightly sprinkled with silver glitter, and tied together with another black rose.

She looks heavenly. Like an angel.

With everything all set and done, Natasha and Dolores begin preparing themselves. As they do, Ophelia pauses for a moment. “Oh, your highness! I almost forgot something. Before we go, our master wanted me to give you this.”, Ophelia says, handing her a small card. It reads: For the Princess. Before heading back to primp herself, her expression slowly turns gloomy, barely keeping up with her smile, “You are so lucky to be chosen…” Peach turns over the card as she waits for the twins to get ready and continues to read:

Tonight’s performance is a one-of-a-kind experience. You, my dear, will not only be the audience, but also part of the story! Everything and everyone around you will be interactive, so please do not be shy. Converse with your newly found friends! Eat, drink, dance with your heart’s content! And please, do not wait for me. I hope you enjoy my masterpiece.

- P

Ah ha! So, this is what Phantom’s performance is! It is a role-playing experience, and based on what the card says, it must be a party he’s hosting. What delightful news! Although, Peach must admit that she has never role-played before, especially in something like this. But wait – didn’t she say to Dolores earlier that being part of the theatre was her childhood dream? Perhaps this is the perfect opportunity to try out her acting skills! Peach beams. She could not believe Phantom would make something like this. Whatever this role-playing party entails, she thinks to herself, she’s going to do the best she can. “We’re ready!” Natasha exclaims in a sing-song tone, “Are you ready, Ophelia?” Ophelia nods. Natasha excitedly takes both her and Peach’s hands, leading them out of the Ladies’ Dressing Room and into the Gallery. Peach almost could not keep up with the twins, for they have remarkable speed, as shown by their natural talents on makeup and costuming. How fast can could they possible go? If this is how fast they can walk, then how fast can they run? Natasha’s ecstatic giggling echoes through the hallway, and with every step they take, the upbeat tempo of music could be heard from behind the Gallery doors. The closer they went, the louder it became. The melody drifts in the air like a calm perfume for the ears, capturing Peach’s attention with its harmonious essence. A delicious delicacy for the senses. Just like Phantom’s voice. He must have composed this melody, for there is no way Peach could have been so immersed and entranced by its sound if it wasn’t. The three ladies approach the Gallery doors, the music muffled behind them. Natasha takes a glance back at Peach and Ophelia, unable to contain her excitement anymore.

She pushes the doors wide open.

What words could possibly describe the sheer extravagance of the Gallery? To think that all of this is completely underground! To think Phantom created this gargantuan chamber, big enough for him and perhaps one hundred guests! Maybe even more than that. Peach could tell, just by admiring the Gallery, Phantom is quite the fan of marble, silver, and velvet. Marble floors and pillars framing the chamber and silver-framed mirrors and portraits decorate the walls. Deep black velvet curtains cascade from the middle of the ceiling and down towards the floor, giving the appearance of one massive Bohemian tent. In the middle hangs a glamourous jeweled chandelier, giving a dim light to the darkness. Looking around, Peach notices there are seven rooms divided by the curtains, each one color-coded, with three rooms on both towards the left and right. To the left are the colors blue, purple, and green, and to the right are orange, white, and violet. The seventh room is located right in front of the ladies, right across from the Gallery entrance. Inside is completely shrouded in shades of red – wine, scarlet, crimson, garnet – and there sits in a shiny throne a crowned gentleman – a prince – with a glass of Amontillado in his hand. His wavy, champagne blonde hair falls delicately around his party mask and square facial structure. His rosy lips gently purse as he raises his glass to drink. He is accompanied by two other women, who are garbed to the nines in the richest finery, blushing and laughing amongst themselves. Every now and then, the prince would turn to one of them and whisper in their ear, making their faces turn into deeper shades of red. As Peach follows Natasha and Ophelia, she finds more guests, all conversing amongst one another in the color-coded rooms. The costumes they wear are vibrant in color and theme, ranging from jesters, to creatures, to knights, to fairies and pixies. These guests, including the prince himself, must all be part of Phantom’s theatre troupe. Peach begins to count: one… two… four… six… nine… eleven. Eleven members of the troupe. She wonders if there are any more, considering how large the Gallery is.

The prince turns his attention suddenly towards Peach, and so do the two women. Soon, almost everyone begins to stop for a moment and do the same. Simultaneously, Natasha and Ophelia bow, gesturing to Peach, “My Lord, we have brought you your special guest, Princess Morrigan of the Stygian Border.” The prince sets down his glass on a nearby silver platter, and stands right up from his throne, adjusting his vest and coat. “C’est magnifique, my loyal subjects! Now the masquerade can truly begin! Come, come! The night is young, gather around everyone! Let us celebrate all of our blessings and forget our grievances!” he declared, “May we prosper in these trying times, and may we never run out of wine to drink.” The crowd laughs and cheers, some of them raising their own glasses. He turns to Peach, his eyes wandering up and down, and smirks, “My, my… Enchantee, your highness. I must say, you look… ravishing tonight. I am Prince Fortunato, at your service. Why don’t you join me, my dear, in the Red Room? Surely, we can have some… fun together, what do you say?” Greeting her, Prince Fortunato places a soft kiss on her hand, his emerald eyes admiring her beauty. Or perhaps something else. Although Peach has to be polite, she immediately had no interest in him. Too cocky, she thinks to herself, too full of himself. It reminds her too much of Bowser. Then again, Phantom was that way, too, at least in the past. But she learned that he was not licentious. He never looked anywhere else but into her eyes. He never searched for anything other than her eyes. He ever seemed like he was after a particular goal other than seeing her whenever they meet. That is the one thing Peach was sure about. Ah, but remember! This is only roleplay; nothing is real. Prince Fortunato, as well as everyone else, is only pretending. In that case, this gentleman is an excellent actor!

Prince Fortunato leads Peach back to his throne, the two women still standing to accompany him. Envy fills the air. Their expressions turn sour as they watch Peach get even more attention than them. Peach could already tell that this is no ordinary masquerade. She has been to many royal revelries throughout her life, and all of them were filled to the brim with sophistication. Every guest, staff member, and host had class – anything that was considered less than classy wasn’t allowed. This masquerade is different in terms of the usual standards of hosting such parties. It was as eccentric as its Gothic décor, consisting of tables filled with silver platters of fruits, meats, bread, and desserts, goblets of beverages, and candles. Every once and a while, a few guests would stuff themselves and each other with this feast, disregarding etiquette for sheer pleasure. Peach isn’t used to the cacophony of this kind of merrymaking. All of this was nothing but pure, unadulterated debauchery – something she was taught never to delve into. She is a princess, after all, and princesses never do those sorts of things. However, did she not accept the invitation to let herself loose? Did she not agree to join this performance – this masquerade – to experience something new for once? For once? Feeling out of place just standing idle amongst Prince Fortunato and the guests, Peach goes over to one of the tables and picks at a plate of grapes. She watches as the guests gather around Natasha and Ophelia in one huge circle, clapping to the music’s rhythm as they frolic together. The fabrics of their dresses fly with their movements as if they were colorful wings dancing in the darkness. As she plops the grapes delicately into her mouth, her eyes continue to wander over the décor. Suddenly, she stops at a grim sight. There as the centerpiece sits three skulls, two of them from a different species, ones Peach isn’t familiar with. The skull placed in the middle, however, is human. She could not tell if these skulls were real. She hopes they aren’t real. Taking a closer look, an engraving is found on its forehead: Ars longa, vita brevis.

Without warning, the Gallery doors burst open! The music stops – the crowd jumps in surprise! Prince Fortunato rises to his feet, alarmed by this sudden interruption. Peach turns around. There standing in the doorway is an aged peasant woman in old, torn rags, her hair glowing bright red like a burning inferno. Her complexion is dirtied, her makeup is smudged, her eyes red-hot with fury. She scowls as she approaches the partygoers, her hands clenched as if she is about to attack. “For shame!Have you no shame?!” the peasant chants, flailing her arms with rage, “Have you no compassion for your people?! The plague lays waste throughout the land! And yet, here you are, surrounding yourself with wealth and whores! They are suffering! They are dying! There is no hope for us! For shame! For shame! Have you no shame?!” Peach watches as everyone else steps back, avoiding her filthy presence. Twelve. Twelve members in Phantom’s theatre troupe. Prince Fortunato steps forward, confronting her, “Who dares… who dares interrupts us?! Who dares trespass Fort Fortunato and speak against the Crown?!”

“It is your undoing that dares enter your home! This, all of this, will be your downfall!” she responds back angerly, gesturing to the masquerade.

“Leave this instant, or else I’ll have your head for this!”

“I have seen it, Prince Fortunato! I have seen your fate in the deepest of dreams! Doom is upon you all!”

“Ah, it’s one of those so-called soothsayers my people love so much… how lovely. They love having their fortunes told, don’t they? Superstitions and all that. Hmmm. Well, in that case, go on. Amuse us with your… dreams and visions, fortune teller. We do love to be entertained.”

“It will come, Prince Fortunato, in retribution of your indulgences. You and your party may hide all you want; it will still find you! Mortals cannot escape from what is inevitable. In the end, it shall visit us when our time comes… and your time is nigh.”

“Qu’est-ce que tu racontes? What is this ‘it’ you’re talking about? Whatever ‘it’ is, I am sure it will not ruin this masquerade. Princess, do you hear all this? She’s simply mad!”

“Our time is nigh!”

“Tu es timbre!”

“For shame! For shame!”

“Quitter cet endroit!”

“Have you no shame?!”

The peasant stops. Her eyes shift towards Peach. A look of horror falls upon her face. “You…”, she whispers, slowly raising a pointed finger at her. Peach watches as she approaches her, still pointing, terrified. Her expression contorts as if she is studying, searching for something. “You… are to be Death’s Bride… Yes! You are Death’s Bride!” she exclaims, falling to her knees, clutching Peach’s skirt, “Oh, you poor soul! So young… innocent… all to be swept by its dark embrace! I beg of you, your highness, leave this place! Forget these fools! Forget all of this! Save yourself!” With a swift grab, Prince Fortunato pulls the peasant away by the shoulder and pushes her aside. “Unhand her this instant! You trespass my fortress, you waste our time with your superstitions, and now you insult me and my guests?” he yells, “Everyone! Let us show this insolent wretch what it means to insult those higher than her! Bring me a chair! Bring me some rope! Let’s play a game with her, shall we?” Peach could not believe it. A prince sacrificing the well-being of his people for an elaborate masquerade! And now, he and the other guests have decided to torture this poor woman! She cannot stay silent any longer – she must act! “Wait!” Peach cries, making everyone stop in unison, “Have mercy on her! Please!” Prince Fortunato scoffs in amusement, “Why, and for what? She insulted us, you heard her!”

“Yes, but none of that would have happened if you attended to your royal duties as Prince and took care of your people!”

“E-excusez-moi?”

“This poor woman is in dire need of assistance, and you have all the wealth to help her! Maybe you should consider.”

“Ha! My dear, you jest! I have no need for peasants! Why should I dabble in their affairs?”

“Because their affairs are yours as well. They have relied on you for so long, and you rely on them. Without your people, you’re done for!”

“Do you not see the extravagance of this masquerade? The bountiful feasts presented on the tables? Our costumes? The wine in our glasses? I am rich, Princess Morrigan! Wealthy beyond imagination!”

“Wealth that came from people like her! Please, my Lord, have mercy.”

“Are you mad? Ha, you must be! Just as mad as the fortune teller!”

“If I am as mad as her, then I must be! Yes, that’s it! Perhaps your foolishness is just another wild hallucination, for what respectable royalty spoils themselves to the point of gluttony and greed?”

A crowd of gasps shatter the silence. The crowd glance at Peach, then at the prince, then back at her, awaiting another response. Prince Fortunato stands silent, completely stunned by her audacity. His face becomes flushed, his teeth gritting, his emerald eyes bright with anger. His fists clench. “Oh…. I’m a fool, am I? Am I a fool?! I am not a fool! I am Prince Fortunato, the next in line! Heir to the throne! I am as respectable as royalty can be!” he furiously shouts, “I will not be insulted like this! I will not be degraded like this! I need not your judgment, or hers, or anyone else’s! I am no fool, do you hear me? I am not a fool! I am a Prince, full of riches and beauty! I am perfect! I am powerful! I am untouchable! You think I’m a fool? You call me a fool, eh? Ha ha! Well then, let me entertain you all! Come, gather around, my lovely guests! Let me show you what a true fool really is!” With a whip of his cape, Prince Fortunato rushes from the crowd and goes behind the throne. Everyone watches as he switches his coat and cape with another coat and removes his crown with another accessory. In a matter of seconds, he reappears, this time donning a shiny blue coat and a mask in the shape of a rabbit’s face. Raising his arms, he presents his new costume to the crowd, “Here! Here! I am now a fool! But Prince Fortunato? Oh no, no, no! He is no fool! You imbeciles! He is a national treasure!” Has Prince Fortunato finally lost his sanity? What could he possibly gain from this? Peach is stunned, as much as the rest of the others. However, she is not as terrified as everyone else. She sees Natasha and Ophelia cradling each other, comforting one another despite both being in distress. She sees Stefan in costume backing away, almost seeming to run away and hide somewhere safe. She sees Dolores frozen in utter fear.

Peach remembers what she had said: “My master can be terrifying when he has his moments.”

No one could help but watch as Prince Fortunato danced along the ballroom floor, singing random songs in a mocking fashion. He flails his arms, waving his hands wildly as if no one is watching him. Is this even part of the roleplay? This moment feels too spontaneous to even be scripted. Peach could not imagine Phantom having his own theatre troupe mock him, regardless of whether or not it would be intentional. Whoever is playing Prince Fortunato must truly be a fool. Prince Fortunato sings in a sardonic tone:

🎶“Look at me!

Watch me float and gloat and show off my coat!

Watch me as I sing about plumbers – oh, how I hate them!

I hate them so much, oh what a bummer!

Watch me as I make sweet, sweet love to my precious spotlight

Under the moonlight!”🎶

Although the song is less than perfect, Peach admits to herself: he has an amazing singing voice! And he sings opera, just like his master! She wonders if all of the members of the theatre troupe can sing as well. Ah, no! Enough of that! Don’t get distracted now! As he sings, Prince Fortunato runs and leaps onto a nearby table, knocking over huge plates of food, skulls, and candles on the floor. Everyone else watches as he spins and taps his feet on the table, his arms still flailing around. No one in the theatre troupe tries to stop him – they’re all too shocked and afraid to even do so. They did not want to get involved in such mockery. Peach could. However, what would happen if she did? As much as she would like to stop him, she just couldn’t. For whatever reason, whether it be out of shock, or out of fear, or out of curiosity, she did not move at all. Still, the Prince continues:

🎶“Imbecile, imbecile, imbecile!

Everyone’s an imbecile but me!

Listen to me, listen to me!

My ego is as big as it can be!

Come, my Princess, marry me please

Or else I’ll cry, cry, cry!”🎶

Then, the sudden drone of a large bell rings! It brings everyone into a hush, sending an immense chill down their spine. No one moves. The drone continues. And continues. And continues. Is this what the peasant woman was talking about? The impending doom that is to fall upon this masquerade? The fate of everyone who stands here on this very night? This inevitability that will claim those who still walk on this earth? Whatever is coming for them… has arrived to make its debut.

The Gallery doors creak open. Seeping through the entrance is a cloud of fog, billowing across the floor like a massive white sheet. It surrounds everyone, almost rising up to their knees, and soon the entire chamber is filled to the brim with gloom. Prince Fortunato finally steps down, his eyes staring in fear at the entrance, and retreats behind Peach. As fate approaches them, soft murmurs of terror arise from the crowd. One by one, each and every actor and actress trembles in anticipation. Peach awaits as well, but more out of curiosity than the shock of terror. This feeling; she remembers it all too well. She has to know what happens next. She has to know what kind of resolution this entire roleplay performance is coming to. Although the resolution is frightening, it was the satisfaction of discovery that keeps her within the Gallery. She will not leave. Fear will not take over. Only curiosity. Only awe and wonder. Only fascination.

And lo and behold, there stands the face of Death in his newest and blackest masterpiece.

He stands tall, bejeweled and shrouded in crimson, emerging from behind the murky darkness. The sheer size of him is intimidating enough, but the opulence in which he had adorned himself gives him an almost divine presence in the masquerade. Out of all the costumes Peach has seen, this one is more magnificent – more vibrant and elaborate – than the rest. Blood red veils cascade down from his large cavalier hat and alongside his cape. His vest a skeletal ribcage, patterns of bones scatter his scarlet greatcoat, and in his paws is a colossal gold cane. Hidden underneath the shadow of his hat is a golden mask, formed into the shape of a skull. Everyone slowly backs away as this masked red-clad stranger approaches them. But not Peach. Instead, she stays, completely in awe. She has become too enamored by his Gothic glamour to even be remotely scared. Finally. After so many days, they finally meet once again. She could see his sapphire eyes peering through and meeting hers with a sign of notice. He stops for a moment. That look… that tender gaze! Although they had only met for a little while before this moment, Peach confesses to herself: she could never have enough of those bright eyes. Those gleaming sapphire eyes. Even through that skull mask of his, she could stare into them all night long.

Alluring… Beguiling… Captivating… Enchanting…

Phantom shifts his attention to Prince Fortunato, his eyes wide with fury. The partygoers cower as he floats over to the foolish prince, towering over him as he looks down. Prince Fortunato scrambles, quickly taking off his blue coat and rabbit mask, full of sweat, almost hyperventilating. His face is revealed with a terrified expression. His eyes look up at Phantom, awaiting whatever fate – whatever punishment – shall bestow upon him. Phantom twists his cane and slowly he pulls it apart, revealing it to be a scabbard with a long, sharp sword inside it. Peach gasps as he unsheathes his weapon, raises it up in the air, and points it down at a quivering Prince Fortunato. “Please, monsieur!” Prince Fortunato gasps and swallows, “Spare me! It was only a mere jest! I was only having some fun entertaining my guests! I-I am the host, after all! Monsieur, please… Have mercy…!” Everyone watches in horror as he pleads for forgiveness. Phantom takes in a deep breathe; music begins to play again. It is in minor key, deep and dramatic – the orchestral equivalent to an imposing force. Peach holds her breath. Finally. With a smooth, baritone voice, Phantom sings his haunting solo:

🎶“Fortunato!

Surrender to me,

Look upon the face of Death!

It is meant to be,

Now savor your last breath!

Fortunato!

Your time has come at last,

Take your final drink of wine!

For your sins in the past,

Oh Prince, your soul will be mine!”🎶

“No!” the prince cries out, “You cannot take me! I will not let you! My guests need me! My people need me!” What hypocrisy! What foolishness! Peach watches intently. What is going to happen next? Will this masked presence spare Prince Fortunato? Will Prince Fortunato’s mockery be forgiven? She anticipates what comes next, whatever that may be. But although she tries to expect the unexpected, there is one thing she is certain about: the masquerade was doomed from the very beginning. Phantom lowers his sword, just by an inch, almost as if in contemplation. A few moments of silence passes. Everyone watches him in anticipation. Peach. Prince Fortunato. Dolores, Stefan, Natasha and Ophelia. Everyone. Anticipating. Anticipating. Anticipating.

Phantom smirks, letting out a soft chuckle. His sword lowers even more, and finally inserts it back into the scabbard. A sigh of relief fills the Gallery…

Then sudden horror! It happened so swiftly. So much so that if one were to blink at that moment, they would miss it completely. A scream pierces the silence! It was Prince Fortunato, now on the floor collapsed to his knees! He screams in agony as his covers his face! Phantom had made a sharp wave of his hand, almost as if he were to slap him across the face. But no! It was much, much worse. A terrible fate had fell upon the prince.

Blood…!

Oozing from his face is a gush of crimson blood! His eye sockets, his nostrils, his mouth, his pores – all drenched in blood! Horrid blemishes begin appearing on his flesh, leaving opened, pus-filled wounds as they pop one by one! Tears and yellow fluids mix with the blood, staining the floor with a pool of secretions! And the screams! Oh, the screams! Prince Fortunato tries to hide his face once more, only to find that it hurts too much! His hands pull away from his face – and, oh God! His flesh, his flesh – it is rotting away! What was once the pristine beauty of a spoiled, gluttonous prince is now the face of nightmares. He coughs and chokes; he cannot scream anymore – blood has filled his throat! He falls onto the floor, panicking, suffering! To think that this is what his people had to endure while no one was there to save their lives. With eyes stained with tears and blood, he rushes over to his guests and reaches for help, but in vain, for who could ever touch a diseased man? With a final cry of fear, Prince Fortunato falls. There lays on the floor is a twitching corpse, the face mutilated by the worst of illnesses…

This display of gore puts the guests into a state of frenzied panic! More screams and sobs fill the Gallery, as well as the sound of footsteps running and chairs and tables knocked over. If they don’t do something, Phantom will come after them next! Anything to get away from this face of Death. Chaos ensues! All except for Peach. Peach stands still amongst the disorder of the partygoers. Her widened eyes are fixated on Phantom. Is it shock? Is it fear? Is it something else entirely? Of course, anybody would be frightened by the sheer grotesqueness of the prince’s death and the possibility of meeting the same fate. But strangely, it seems to not bother Peach at all, almost as if she isn’t aware of the situation. Perhaps she is still mesmerized by Phantom’s extravagant appearance? Perhaps she is somehow desensitized? Whatever is going on, Peach still remains, as well as the peasant woman. The two ladies stare as Phantom slowly turns to watch over the terrified crowd. He observes the scene quietly. All in unison, the panicked guests rush toward the Gallery doors. With a wave of his hand, he blocks the entrance, slamming it tightly shut. Ophelia throws herself on the doors, slamming her fists frantically, “Open the doors! Open the doors! Oh please, open the doors!” Everyone begins to do the same. But alas, their attempts of escape are futile, for their master – the Red Death – had already claimed their souls. Once again, Phantom sings:

🎶“Crowned with privilege and villainous

Bathe in the blood of your wickedness

Tonight, retribution is at hand

For this masquerade shall be damned

Mask yourselves to hide your shame

But in the end, they know your name

Into the earth, your corpses will sink

May your blood be the wine they drink…”🎶

And one by one, each guest fell, forming a massive pile of bloodied bodies in front of the entrance. Peach takes in what had just happened. She had never seen something so macabre before. Roleplay, she thinks to herself, this is all just roleplay. This is all just pretend. No one is hurt. They are all just acting. This is all just roleplay. But by the stars, it looks so… real! There is blood everywhere. Not just the red pool on the floor, but also smeared handprints on the doors too. How did Phantom do all of this? This must have taken so much effort and hard work to even pull off such a remarkably gory scene! Peach couldn’t help but wonder what exactly went through Phantom’s mind when making this performance. This was something she never expected, let alone how absolutely graphic it was going to be. But regardless, the entirety of the roleplay screamed Phantom. It was bold. Dramatic. A complete subversion from a usual masterpiece. There was grandeur, there was beauty, there was mystery, there was tension. Then finally the payoff – an act of karma against the avaricious Prince Fortunato and his hedonistic friends. Now only she and the peasant woman are left. Peach cannot imagine what this powerful reaper is going to do next. Ah, no – she suddenly remembers!

Death’s Bride. She is to be Death’s Bride…

Her thoughts are interrupted by another cry, this time from the peasant woman. She turns to find Phantom approaching her, his hand lifting up to claim another soul. But why must the good die? Death is inevitable, it is true. Life is short. Peach knew this. But what did this poor woman do to deserve such a fate? Why do bad things happen to good people? Perhaps it is meant to be, just like what Phantom said. Roleplay. It is all just roleplay. Should she stand by and let things take its course? Or maybe… what could she do? Roleplay…. Ah, of course! Peach dashes over and stands in between them. “Wait!” she says, defending the peasant woman, “Have mercy on her!” Phantom pauses, taken by surprise for a moment, but then resumes in character. “Young or old, poor or rich… Death waits for no one. Her time has come.” Phantom calmly responds, his voice low. “Can you at least give her enough time to live another day? Can you see she has suffered enough? Please, I beg of you.” Peach pleads.

“You stand in front of the face of Death… and yet you are not frightened. Are you… not afraid of me?”

“I do not fear what is inevitable. I just want to give her another chance.”

“Such compassion… and all of this for a stranger. However, as painful as it may be, you cannot persuade me to spare her.”

“If that is not enough, then I will offer a gift to you.”

“And what is this gift you speak of?”

“For this woman’s life, I offer you myself. You can have my soul. You can have everything, all of me, and I will not refuse you.”

Phantom is rendered speechless, despite staying in character. Do his ears deceive him? No, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly be! Deep down inside, he could not believe what Peach had just said. He watches as Peach ushers the peasant woman to flee the masquerade, and so she does, retreating to a small secret entrance hidden by the large curtains. Silence. As much as he tries, Phantom seems to be unable to speak. Now only he and the princess are alone. Together. Just like that one night. “I believe that is enough to persuade you?” Peach says with a soft smile. That smile. Oh, that sweet smile! He could stare at it forever! “I can be yours, and yours only. I will not leave. I will be not be frightened.” she continues, “It must be lonely, going around the world and reaping souls for those who’s time has passed. You don’t have to be lonely. You can have a companion! Someone who will join you by you side. Don’t you want that?” Companionship. Is Peach talking to Death or to Phantom himself? The lines between roleplay and real life begin to blur before his very eyes. He could not differentiate which is just acting or an actual confession. She must be playing a trick – she must be! This could not possibly be real! This is just too good to be true! Taking in a deep breath, staring deep into Peach’s pretty eyes, Phantom sings one last solo:

🎶“Oh, Sweet Maiden!

Surrender to me,

Look upon your paramour!

It is meant to be,

Together forevermore!

Oh, Sweet Maiden!

Your time has come at last

Take your final drink of wine

For this spell I shall cast

My Bride, your heart will be mine!”🎶

With a wave of his hand, two shiny, black feathered wings sprout from Peach’s back! Peach glances over in surprise, admiring her new wings. They sparkled under the light of the chandelier with iridescent glitter. Natasha must have added these in while making her costume. Once again, she continues to be impressed be Natasha’s work. Then her eyes glance over towards the Gallery entrance. Peach stops. Something has changed. Her eyes squints as she tries to make out what she is seeing. Confusion floods her mind until realization hits her.

The bodies… are those…. Mannequins?

Phantom places his paw on her cheek, delicately turning her face towards him. The softness of his caress fills her senses, and she is greeted by his tender gaze. What a tender gaze he has! As her eyes are locked in his gaze, Peach feels herself being gently embraced around her waist and leaning back into a dip. Her heart begins to race. Beat after beat it quickens its pace, her breathing becomes more and more shaky. It must be adrenaline – all of this is so new to her. Peach finds herself reaching out towards Phantom and, ever so gently, she takes off his skull mask, revealing his face. At long last, she finally sees him. Oh, how she missed him! “Did you enjoy the show, your highness?” Phantom grins, “I must admit, there were some things that weren’t… intended to happen, but as long a—” He is stopped, as Peach catches him off guard. Locked in a tight hug around his neck, he feels his lips being locked with hers. It was passionate yet gentle and warm. Peach, the princess he has adored for so many years, is giving him a kiss. A kiss! Is this a dream? Is this actually happening? So many thoughts went through Phantom’s mind. He could not process all of them at once; his head could possibly burst from excitement! His eyes flutter and close, letting himself melt into Peach’s embrace. If they could pull each closer than they already are, they could. But no matter how much closer they can be, it just wasn’t enough. They wanted each other. They craved each other. The unbridled desire for connection and companionship broke loose, and immediately they find themselves losing all control of their yearning. Their lips break apart, their hot breaths mingling with each other. They open their eyes; Peach grins and so does Phantom. They kiss again, neither of them wanting to stop. “Ah…!” Phantom gasps in between her soft lips, “Mon ange de la mort…!”

Overwhelmed, Peach swoons as Phantom dips her even further and surrenders herself to his kiss of death.

---

She woke up the next morning. The first thought that would have come to her mind was how she even managed to return to her castle without any notice. But no, the very first thought that came to her mind was what happened last night. She laid in her bed and, as stares up at the ceiling, touched her lips softly with her fingertips. Then up her rosy cheek, then down to her neck, and across her bare shoulders. She could still feel his touch. She sighs deeply – what a performance that was! Peach stretched her whole body and curled up, sinking back into sleep. A love stricken grin appeared on her face as she whispered to herself, “Until we meet again.”

#my writing #OTP #fanfiction #shipping fanfic #Phantom x Peach #phantom of the bwahpera #OCs #princess peach #mario rabbids #mario rabbids kingdom battle #tom phan

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jenonctcity · 5 years

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No Nut November - Jaemin

Na Jaemin – Smut, Crack, Fluff

Warnings: Explicit content, a lot of mentions of penis’s, dirty talk, brief spanking, oral (male receiving).

Word Count: 3k

Summary: 00’s line take part in No Nut November.

The Rules of No Nut November:

You cannot have sex, masturbate, or nut in any way, shape, or form.

Watching pornography and having boners are allowed, but you can’t nut.

You are only allowed one wet dream. If you have more than one, then consider yourself out.

You do not have 3 strikes; you only have one shot at it. If you miss it, you’re out.

If you have passed the month with a total of 0 nuts, you are a victor and you shall qualify for Destroy Dick December (Not Recommended).

Look man, just don’t nut in 30 days.

Series

Day 1:

Jaemin had made it very clear to you a week before the month changed to November, that he had every intention of doing no nut November. The week building up to it you had been pinned to whatever surface Jaemin had deemed fit and had been fucked hard. It was the best week of your sexual activity that you’d ever experienced, so you were kind of happy he was going to take part in the strange internet trend. You also knew once the month was over that he would go into a sex crazed state and give you a performance good enough to rival his last show.

However, it wasn’t you that you were worried about not being able to last the entire month. You were certain that Jaemin could not go a whole month without trying to get into your pants. You knew your boyfriend well enough to know that he had a very high sex drive, leading him to asking you for sex nearly every time he saw you. It didn’t help that he was the master of flirting. It made it easy for him to charm your underwear off your body. He had a knack for sending you dirty texts that were filthy enough for your face to heat up in want and slight embarrassment. He once sent you a dick pic that your friend was absolutely mortified to have seen by accident when you opened the text, not having expected him to send pictures of his meat in the middle of the day.

As you stood in your local book store, enjoying the peace and quiet it bestowed upon you, you browsed the fiction section, hoping to find a book about a hopeless romance that ended in heartbreak or a forever love, your phone buzzed in your pocket. It caused you to jump a little but luckily, you’d remembered to put your phone on silent before entering the book shop. You pulled it from your pocket and smiled softly when you saw the contact name said ‘Nana’.

“I miss you :(” his text read, your smile widening at his adorable use of the sad face emoji. You wondered if his text had a hidden meaning or not but decided it probably didn’t because it had only been about half day since he last got his dick wet. You took your time to reply, typing with one thumb as you glanced between your phone and the bookshelf in front of you.

“You saw me about 4 hours ago, I was naked in your bed. Remember?” You replied with a soft giggle, not even surprised when his reply came less than 20 seconds later.

“I remember well! ;) But do you not miss me?” You could almost hear the pout he was more than likely sporting through the words written on your screen. You smirked, trying to suppress a giggle as you replied.

“No.” You quickly followed up with another text. “Just kidding, love you boo.”

“Ouch. My heart bleeds.”

“How are you holding up? Not touched your precious pleasure rod yet have you?” You couldn’t help but ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“First of all, ew, never call Jaemin Junior a pleasure rod ever again. Secondly, no I haven’t touched it yet! Have some faith in me!”

“Ew since when have you referred to it as Jaemin Junior?”

“Since now, actually I hadn’t even thought about anything sexual until you brought it up you perv!” You sniggered, rolling your eyes and leaving him on read as you went back to scouring the shelf for the book you desired.

Day 2:

“Hey babe…” Jaemin patted your thigh, trying to gain your attention as you sat beside him in a taxi. You were on the way to a movie theatre and decided a taxi was the best way to avoid the downpour of rain hitting the earth forcefully.

“Yeah?” You tore your line of sight away from staring out of the window to look at him.

“Have you got any nudes on your phone?” He leaned in close, his lips beside your ear as he whispered lowly to make sure the driver didn’t hear him.

“Na Jaemin!” You whisper-shouted at him, not believing the audacity he had to ask you that in the back of a taxi.

“Please baby just give me your phone and I’ll find them myself.” He whined, holding his hand out to your expectantly.

“No!” You slapped his hand away, watching the way his lips turned into an endearing pout.

“Please…I can’t remember what your body looks like…” You shoot him a disapproving glare, shaking your head slowly at him.

“No!”

“Fine!” He turned away, folding his arms over his chest and pretending to throw a tantrum. He didn’t ask again but later on you did send him a cheeky booty pic, much to his excitement.

Day 5:

The hot rivets of water hit your skin and ran down the contorts of your body, leaving a warm sensation flooding through your system. The water had no competition against Jaemin’s soft lips peppering open mouthed kisses across the back of your neck. The plush pillows sending cool shivers down your spin, a complete contrast to how hot your body felt.

“I want you so bad baby girl.” He murmured, his words almost getting lost amongst the noise of the water hitting all the surfaces of the shower. You hummed in acknowledgment, his hands wrapping around your from behind, fingers teasing you on their ascent to your breasts. “Let me make you feel good.” His big hands cupped your soft boobs, thumbs and forefingers each pinching your hardened nipples. A bolt of pleasure shot through you, it rippling down your body from your chest to your neglected clit. You became putty in his hands, him pulling your flat against his chest and gyrating his hips into yours enough for you to feel the prominent erection he’d formed.

A sudden reminder popped into your head. A reminder that Jaemin was supposed to be participating in no nut November. You rolled your eyes, pulling away from his grasp – although somewhat reluctantly, and turning to face him.

“I knew you’d try to fuck me before the end of the month.” You smirked at him, moving your hands up to cup his cheeks and pecking the gobsmacked look off of his lips with your own. He struggled to form words, his mouth opening and closing as he stared down at your smug face. “You’re weak Na Jaemin.” You whispered, leaning in and taking his lips between your own in a lingering, steaming kiss, the water running over your heads as you got in the line of the water streaming from the shower head. His arms looped around your torso, pulling you against him and holding your naked bodies together.

“I’m not weak.” He whispered into the kiss, his tongue poking out and trailing over the lining of your lips before working its way into your mouth. He flicked his tongue against your own, rolling his hips into yours and moving his hands down to squeeze your ass. He moved his lips down your face, to your jaw and nipping at your wet skin.

“You’re still trying to-” Your words were cut off by a moan slipping from your parted lips, his perfect mouth sucking right on the spot he knew would make your knees shake.

“Let me treat you.” He spun you around, forcing you up against the wall of the shower, bent slightly and presenting your ass out to him. You bit your bottom lip, spreading your legs apart enough to give him access to your dripping heat. He trailed his fingertips down your spine, the slight tickle causing shudders to shoot across your nerves. He ran the palm of his hand over the curve of your ass cheeks, removing it only to bring it down on your skin with a slap. You gasped in surprise, relaxing as he spanked you once more before jamming a finger inside your slick hole. “So wet for me baby girl, do you like it when I spank you?” He used his free hand to bring it down on your ass once more before leaning that hand on the shower wall and putting all his weight on it, his body hovering over yours.

“Yeah…oh god.” You moaned, rutting your hips back into his hand. He slowly withdrew his finger, circling your sodden hole with the tip of his finger before ramming it back inside of you, pumping it slowly to loosen you up. He added another finger, his lips attaching themselves onto your shoulder. He smirked when you whined against the cold shower wall, the warm water cascading down onto your body, but it was the warmth you felt from Jaemin that was making you overwhelmed.

“You want me to fuck you with my fingers harder?” He bit at the skin of your shoulder, maintaining the slow pace with his fingers. “Answer me.” He growled, stopping his fingers altogether at your silence.

“Yeah! Fuck me hard!” You whimpered at the loss of stimulation, wiggling your hips as an incentive for him to continue.

“As you please princess.” He smirked, thrusting his digits back into you hard and fast. The hand he was using to hold himself up on the wall moving to cup your breast in his hand. His fingers working over your sensitive nipple causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head.

“Jaemin!” You squeaked, your head lolling back onto his shoulder as the knot tightened in your stomach. “Right there don’t stop!” A gasp ripped from your chest, his teeth biting into your shoulder enough to leave teeth marks behind as the white-hot feeling rushed through your body, your climax hitting suddenly. Your chest rose and fell as you tried to catch your breath, your legs shaking and hips stuttering as he stopped his ministrations on your core.

“That’s my girl.” He gently kissed the bruise he’d made on your shoulder, withdrawing his fingers from you and opting to enclose his mouth around his dripping digits. He sucked them clean, dropping his eye into a wink and turning his back to you to wash his hair, his hard on being left unattended to, much to your surprise.

Day 7:

So far, so good. To your knowledge, Jaemin had managed to not touch his penis in any sexual way at all, which again, had shocked you. You’d assumed he wouldn’t make even 3 days, so him having lasted a week actually impressed you. Despite many close calls, Jaemin had reigned in the hormones and want for you, simply keeping it in his pants, or by pulling away during your steamy session in the shower days prior. About an hour ago, Jaemin had fallen asleep on your bed, even though you’d both planned on walking down the local convenience store to buy snacks for the evening. Not wanting to disturb him because his sleeping face made your heart warm, you’d decided to go on your own and leave him to nap. Choosing not to rush, you’d taken your time in getting the snacks, and stealthily entered your apartment silently in case Jaemin was still sleeping. You’d dumped the snacks on the kitchen counter, and slowly creeped towards your bedroom. You raised an eyebrow in confusion when you heard weird noises emitting from the room. You held your ear to the door, listening as realization dawned on you, causing you to gasp loudly.

“Na Jaemin!” You burst into the room, pointing at him accusingly. “You’re watching porn!!!” He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes wide and arms folded across his chest. You paused, about to accuse him of losing no nut November when you noticed he wasn’t touching himself inappropriately. “You’re…erm…are you watching porn for the plot?” You glanced at the television opposite your bed, the scandalous video of a girl having a cock shoved down her throat greeting your eyes.

“Kinda…” He shrugged, grabbing the remote and shutting off the power.

“You’re so strange…” You both looked at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“I was bored, and I missed it!” He defended himself, watching your every move as you slinked closer to the bed, a seductive look gleaming in your eye. You’d had enough of this stupid no nut November thing, deciding once and for all the test his resolve. “What are you doing…?” He asked suspiciously when you clambered onto the bed, throwing your leg over his own and sitting just above his knees on his outstretched legs.

“Oh nothing…” You bit your bottom lip alluringly, his eyes watching your hands as they slowly peeled down his jogging bottoms. “Lift your hips like a good boy yeah?” You winked, his hips lifting automatically to your order. You pulled his joggers down, his boxers coming down with them. His hard cock sprang up to his t-shirt, your eyes zoning in on it like a predator hunting its prey. You pushed his t-shirt up, exposing his defined abs and smirking as a bead of pre-cum oozed from the tip onto his stomach.

“Hey…don’t touch that penis missy.” He spoke with a dominating tone, you giggled, raising an eyebrow challengingly at him.

“Or what?”

“Or I lose no nut November!” He gulped, sighing and leaning his head back onto the soft pillow of your bed. “Fine. Touch it.”

“Yay!” You gripped his cock at the base, pulling it so it stood upright. Your touch took his breath away, a week proving to be too long for the absence of having his dick touched in a sexual manner. This is what he’d been craving since the he’d decided to take on this stupid challenge, and he knew he couldn’t last out long. You held eye contact with him, leaning down to rest the head of his cock on your bottom lip. “Tell me what you want.” He wasn’t used to this amount of dominance from you, it causing a firework of pleasure to burst inside his stomach.

“Suck my cock baby girl, make me cum.” You poked your tongue out, kitten licking another drop of pre-cum that spilled. The bitter taste didn’t bother you, and you actually enjoyed giving your boyfriend blowjobs, knowing a lot of your friends had different opinions on giving head. “Hurry.” His own dominance shone through, challenging your own and giving you the sensation of needing to comply to him. You fluttered your eyelashes at him, taking the head of his cock between your lips and sucking gently. “Oh fuck.” He wanted to bend his knees, but you were caging them underneath your body, restricting his movement. His fingers found their way into your hair, gripping at it gently. Without any warning, you took all of his hard length into your mouth, sucking harshly and bobbing your head up and down in perfect rhythm. Puffs of air left his parted lips as he tried to cope with the pleasure coursing through his cock, his toes curling in response.

You pulled off to wipe at your mouth, spit forming in the corners of your lips. You leaned forward, placing soft kisses on his abs and slowly trailing them back down to his red, leaking cock awaiting the presence of your warm mouth. You take him back in your mouth, making sure to stare into his soul as your drag your lips down his shaft and back up against tauntingly, letting your lips leave the tip with a pop. You use your hand to pump him fast, biting your bottom lip as his stomach starts to flex. He whimpered, squirming on the bed before letting out a loud grunt, his grip on your hair tugging harshly as he came. You’d opened your mouth in perfect time, white ribbons coating your tongue and lips.

“Fuck you look hot covered in my cum.” He panted, watching as you closed your mouth and made a point to lick your lips provocatively in front of him. “You’re a dirty girl.” He spoke lowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he caught his breath. You let go of his cock, letting it flop to the side without cause. “Also, fuck you! I was doing great at no nut November and you just had to ruin it didn’t you!” After the bliss of his orgasm wore off, he sat up, pushing you onto your back against the bed. You squeaked in surprise, suddenly the ceiling being all you could see until Jaemin came into your view, his body hovering over your own.

“Punish me then.” Winking at him to rile him up, you trailed a hand over your own body, squeezing your boob over your clothes and grinning cheekily at him. “Do your worst.”

“You’re in for a long night baby girl.” He smirked his famous smirk at you, immediately diving in to suck at the crook of you neck.

No Nut November: Na Jaemin - Fail.

(A/N: Hello! Thank you so much to everyone whose liked/reblogged/commented and messaged me about this series. It’s been a wild ride and I’m overwhelmed from the love its gotten! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you thought of the series as a whole and whether you’d like me to do Destroy Dick December!)

2K notes · View notes

serendipityunho · 5 years

Text

Cuts & Curses II

× genre: smut, college au × pairing: boxer!Jongho x Reader (fem.) × word count: 7.4k × warnings: depictions of violence, inflicted injuries, explicit language, grinding, blowjob, handjob, praising, hickeys, unprotected sex, overstimulation, explicit sex

× synopsis: Jongho didn’t need much convincing to come home with you and find himself between your legs after a long day battling off his arch-nemesis from your feelings.

→ PART ONE

☁️: please read part one (link above) to understand the references used in this fic. angry jongho is hot jongho. i don’t make the rules.

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As much as you wanted to desperately flick this pen lid right at the head of your professor, you just didn’t have that energy. Especially not today at least.

“... don’t forget to read the theories during the holidays!” It took more effort to fully process the class was over than to unstick your ass from the mildly uncomfortable cushion seats in the lecture theatre.

It was almost as if some of these kids didn’t know what basic manners were, not even a single mutter of a simple ‘sorry’ was heard when their legs knocked at yours. Well, it was a Christmas break now after all. No one had the time or energy to stay on campus any longer, neither did you.

You found it oddly comforting to just walk slow, letting people swift past you as they eagerly unlock their cars and link arms to go home and enjoy the most of their starting break. There wasn’t anything waiting that you needed to attend to immediately, so why not take the time strolling through the merely empty library?

It was basically another sanctuary apart from the diner and your cheap Ikea bed that was on the verge of breaking. Thank fuck there were always sales after Christmas, may as well get yourself a new bed.

“Going somewhere?” You could recognise that brooding voice even if it came from the gutter.

Jungkook’s augment frame leaned against the wet rails leading up to the double doors of the library. Gosh, you wanted to just slap that smirk off his face.

“What’s it to you?” The grip on your bag strap tightened as you barely managed to nudge his rock-hard shoulder when pushing past to the double doors.

“I’m just askin’, everyone’s gone home already. Why are you still here?” Jungkook followed you closely behind, almost feeling the warmth from his body against you.

“Because I want to? What are you doing here?” You spun around, making him stop in his tracks and shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“I was actually looking for you”

“Looking for me? Why? Came to brag about your win ag-”

“I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me?” This time it was you stopping in your tracks. Did you really just hear that come out of his own mouth?

“What?”

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” Did you mention how badly you wanted to slap that smirk off his face?

“You’re fucking kidding right?” You couldn’t help but choke a small chuckle, hoping he was just throwing words out of his mouth without meaning.

It’s absolutely unbelievable how Jungkook could just blatantly ask you to dinner after numerously bragging about his “easy” win. And especially after the shit he’s done to you.

“Does it sound like I’m kidding?” He may be a liar, but you stayed with him long enough to be able to tell when he was and wasn’t lying.

You could’ve sworn there was a slight sense of sincerity in his voice. Maybe it was just your tired brain giving up rational thought slowly.

“What makes you think I would want to have dinner with you?” You spin back around on your heels, inching deeper into the shelves of lined hard-cover books to hopefully bored Jungkook enough to finally give up and leave you alone.

“I’ve changed”

“And I’ve grown in height-”

“Please. Maybe you don’t want to go like that but maybe as friends?”

It was never usually so hard to just respond with a simple ‘no’. It was the fact that you actually quite missed times like that with Jungkook, laughing and smiling at each other on cute little dates he’d take you on.

“You’re going to need to do more convincing than that” Your fingers run along the hard spine of one of the books in the fiction section of the library, eyeing the little detailed imprinted on the front.

After inspecting all the intricate selections, you found yourself catching eyes for the one behind Jungkook, pushing past his broad frame to snatch it out from its spot before flipping through its contents as you paced around. You were so invested in it that you almost forgot there was person literally following you around the books like a creep.

“You never needed much convincing” The book shut closed with a snap as Jungkook held it above his head.

“Well, that was before you fucked another chick after telling me you loved me” It really did hurt to recollect those memories every time you saw him. Just a little less this time.

“I was stupid, we both were-”

“Yeah, I was stupid enough to date you”

“Listen, just one dinner. Please. I promise I won’t bother you again after” A part of you really wanted to just walk away, telling yourself you wouldn’t fall for the same bullshit again.

The other just really wanted to give him a chance, maybe he’s changed. Maybe he’d be better as a friend rather than a person baring your heavy grudge.

“Fine, one dinner- as friends”

“Of course, just friends” Behind that cocky smirk you hated was a smile you genuinely missed. Keyword missed.

Jungkook being the careless guy he is, just stuck the book he was holding into a random unallocated slot before taking a hold of your hand and turning his back as he strode closer to the door. With an arithmetic pace like this, you were bound to end up tripping over your own feet here and there.

“Jesus Christ- slow down!” Your tired legs struggled to keep up with Jungkook’s, muscles burning as you ran out of breath whereas he didn’t huff and single pant.

“We won’t get a table if you keep walking like that” Now you knew where he was taking you. It was quite a cliche to be completely honest.

“Please don’t tell me you- oh and you did” The two of you halted at the entrance of a small diner.

It also happened to be the same diner the two of you had your first date in, the same one your eyes sparkled at his laughter. Were you too stupid to see what was happening?

“Hope you still like those mushy fries and flavourless milkshake” Jungkook leaned back against his chair, eyeing you from top to bottom as you sat in front of him.

“They’re not as bad as your soggy buns on your dry burger” Almost every single memory in this place came flooding back in an instant as the two of you reminisce of your odd food choices back in your relationship.

“Out of all places, you had to pick this one?”

“It was the closest one, and I didn’t feel like driving either” Jungkook leaned forward, arms crossed in front of each other as he tilts his head to the side.

“Why did you drag me here then?”

“I wanted to talk”

“Talk? You’re a very vague man, Jungkook” It was quite an improbable silence before he corked up that cocky smirk of his again, this time it was starting to grow on you by how much you found yourself facing it.

“I miss the way you say my name...” No surprise he’d say that, not that he actually meant it or anything.

“Stop-”

“What? Are you shy?”

“I’m sure you like other girls saying your name just as much as you do with me” It wouldn’t be surprising if he did to be honest.

“No one says it like you do” Now he was just fucking with you.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this flustered to the extent of fiddling with your fingers and dipping your head to avoid eye contact. Actually, it was with him too.

“And a million other girls have heard the same thing from you, haven’t they?”

“Not a million, just you” Oh god, what were you supposed to say to this? Compliment him back? It’s been a while since you’ve done that.

“We’re here as friends” You needed to establish that in case he had already forgotten.

“But are we really? You’re blushing” Now you really knew what was going on.

“I always blush” No you don’t.

“And you always look so beautiful doing so” What the fuck is this guy doing?

“Jungkook, sto-”

“I miss you, so much,” If only you could fight your heart right now you’d be out of this diner by now “, I miss us, the way we had fun” Your hand felt the warmth again as Jungkook placed his hand over yours, rubbing his thumb against yours.

You wanted to punch him, right there and then for fishing that buried emotion in the pit of your stomach. The feeling of genuinely missing him. You didn’t want that. You already know the consequences of succumbing to those closeted emotions.

The only thing you could concentrate on was the buzz of small talk around you and the ring of the small bell on top of the door. It was that moment of the ring, Jungkook’s eyes snapped away from yours.

“What the f-” Jungkook straightened his back, eyes narrowing into a piercing glare.

“Let’s go” You were just as shocked as he was, your neck strained at the sight of Jongho glaring down at you, jaw clenched as he kept a stern glare locked on you.

“So you two are dating now, are you?” The chair scraped loudly against the checkered floor, turning all heads to your table as Jungkook faced Jongho with icy death stares.

“What’s it to you?” You could’ve sworn they were about to kiss by how close in proximity they were in.

“Jongho, stop, please-” It certainly was scary enough in the ring when these two fought each other, much scarier now that you were up and personal in the space.

“What the fuck are you doing with this asshole anyway?” Jongho points a finger at Jungkook as his eyes narrow even more.

“The fuck did you just call me?” They were like two deers head to head with their foreheads clashing together, neck veins almost popping as they try to push each other back.

From the corner of your eye, you could see a line of people flooding out the door as mutters and whispers surround you. Even the ones still here cowered in their booths and watch with a peak.

“Now is not the time for this shit, take it outside, please-”

“Yeah let’s take it outside why don’t we?” Jongho stumbled back with a huff from Jungkook’s hard push against his chest. Oh boy.

“You motherfu-” Jongho threw himself at Jungkook, grabbing him by the collar before slamming him against the table, causing distant screams to be heard in the background as more people continued to rush out of the diner.

Jungkook thrashed under Jongho’s hold before headbutting him, making Jongho’s grip on his shirt loosen. He took the opportunity to push Jongho off of him and swing back his arm ready for a punch.

A hand flew up to your mouth with the sound of Jungkook’s fist meeting Jongho’s cheek. Shooting yourself up from your seat, you try and attempt to hopefully end the squabble. It was almost as if you were invisible to them the moment they see each other because no matter how hard you tried to push Jungkook back from Jongho, he just wouldn’t budge.

“Jungkook, stop!” Your fists didn’t affect him whatsoever despite all the nudges and hits you threw him to stop him from throwing another punch.

“Stay out of my way” You were shocked at how far you managed to fall back from a single swipe to push you out of the way.

Jongho smeared his thumb across his lip, wiping the small amount of blood oozing out from his cut lip. Anyone could sense the anger this boy was radiating, it was almost deadly.

The two clashed once again, this time Jongho had managed to throw one in before Jungkook fell to the ground with a hard thud and reddened cheeks. But before he could land another hit, you managed to bring yourself in front of him, raising both your arms up and making him halt.

“Jongho, let’s just go. Leave him, it’s not worth it” It was the first time you’d seen Jongho like this despite already seeing him punch it out in the ring. This right here was pure anger.

It took a minute for Jongho’s panting to quiet down before taking his eyes off a groaning Jungkook on the floor. Jongho’s eyes flickered to you before grabbing a hold of your hand and rushing out the exit.

The cold breeze hit you like a brick the moment you came out, it wasn’t this cold ten minutes ago when you were running across the lot with Jungkook like lovesick children. You halted in your spot with Jongho’s back facing you, crossing your arms as you wait for some sort of response.

“What were you doing in there with him?” Jongho turns on his heels, huffing out a long breath before shoving his hands in his jacket.

“You don’t get to ask me shit without telling me how you found me- oh and why you just randomly decided to tell me to leave-”

“You’re fraternising with the fucking enemy, isn’t that obvious enough? Didn’t this guy fucking cheat on you? Or did your brain decide to stop working after today?”

“First of all, yes, he did do that, but we were just here as friends. He wanted to talk which, obviously, didn’t turn out well for either of us, and I was going to leave anyways before you showed up” Furious would be an understatement right about now.

“As friends, right. That’s not how it fucking looked like” Oh god, please don’t say he was...

“You’re the one who should be doing the explaining and not me. You can’t just start unnecessary fights and then drag me with you to what? Argue?”

To be honest, it was getting a lot colder the more you stood in the open. But you didn’t want to show it for your pride’s sake. Jongho seemed unfazed by the cold, comfortably warm in his brown suede jacket.

“I dragged you out because I-” Your eyes narrowed at Jongho, waiting for him to continue only to be faced with a blank expression.

“- You know what? Nevermind, I was just angry. I needed to let it out on somebody I guess” Jongho inched backwards before slowly turning his back towards you, stepping to his car.

“Y-You’re a bad l-liar, J-Jongho!” Hopefully, he didn’t catch onto your stutters from the cold.

Jongho didn’t bother looking back at you as he drifted out of the parking lot, leaving you shivering in the cold. You could never get a valid answer out of that boy.

“Dickhead” Right now, the diner was the only warm place apart from the library, but that place was probably closed by now. Your feet shuffled against the rough pavement, inching closer towards the steps of the diner again.

From where you were standing, you could see Jungkook still inside, sitting at one of the stools with an ice pack held against his face as he slumped forward. You questioned whether or not you should go back inside, address him.

Fuck it, inside was warm.

The familiar ring of the bell caused Jungkook to turn his face slightly, probably spotting you from the corner of his eye as he dropped his ice pack onto the counter. You swallowed the lump in your throat before walking towards him, sitting on the stool beside him.

“I thought you would’ve gone home with your boyfriend” Jungkook chuckled, biting the inside of his cheek.

“He’s not my boyfriend”

“So I still have a chance?”

“Highly unlikely”

“Why not? Don’t you miss me too? I’m sure a bit of you does”

“You’re so unbelievable” Now you’ve had enough of him. Shaking your head, you began to push yourself off the stool to make an exit. You’d rather face walking home in the cold than dealing with his nonsense again.

“Wait,” Jungkook grabs your wrist before you managed to slip away from him “, let me walk you home” Was this guy serious?

“No thanks,” Your fingers pry off Jungkook’s hold on your wrist before turning your back “, you’ve caused enough trouble”.

“No funny business, I swear”

“You said you wouldn’t bother me after I went with you to the diner”

“I said I wouldn’t bother you after you had dinner with me and we never actually had dinner because of your boyfriend- sorry, Jongho” You forgot he was always a cocky smart-ass sometimes.

“No funny business”

You couldn’t believe you actually agreed to his offer even after everything that had unfolded just five minutes ago. It was either that or keeping your cheap pepper spray on hand while walking home alone.

You made sure to keep a distance between the two of you, cautious and wary of possible tricks and illusions Jungkook probably had up his sleeve. That boy was always prepared when it involved another female in his presence.

Neither of you said a word. You were still agitated of to Jungkook’s sudden confession. Did he really want you back or was it just another scam? Who knows. Thankfully, your brain was bigger than your heart.

It was a silent walk home. Almost a little too silent considering the fact that you actually forgot there was another person walking beside you.

“Do you still keep a key under the mat?” You fiddled with your keys as Jungkook leaned against the door, waiting for your response.

“That’s none of your concern”

“Why? Scared I might catch Jongho in your bed?”

“What the fuck is your deal?” With a key in the hole, you could just escape from Jungkook’s nonsense right now. But curiosity got the best of you.

“What? I’m just askin’. If you two aren’t a thing, then what the fuck just happened at the diner?”

“Even I don’t know, okay? He’s just- Jongho, that’s all”

“The boy’s already got you fucked up. You know I can treat you better than that” You wanted to scoff at his face, how fucking ironic.

“You’re not getting me back”

“It was worth a try” Jungkook turned his back before you could say another word to him, still appalled at his trashy attempts to mend a broken relationship between the two of you.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

No amount of TV and m&m’s could draw your mind away from the two boys, especially Jongho. Was he okay? Should you text him? No, he’s probably passed out on his couch with Creed playing in the back. But your phone was right there, it didn’t make it any easier.

You huffed a sigh before placing the bowl of m&m’s onto the coffee table, snatching your phone before falling back onto the couch. Your thumb hovered over the contact, too hesitant to press down on it.

It was either now or in six weeks once classes started again. The phone stayed silent for a solid second before emitting a ring. You could’ve sworn it was your heart ringing instead of the call.

The room echoed with the silent ring of your phone until it was silent. No answer.

You just stared at the ceiling until the light on your phone disappeared. There are many questions running through your head from the predicament you had gotten yourself into just two hours ago.

He looked awfully upset, which was a rare sight to see. Ever since that night in the locker rooms, he wasn’t the same. Maybe you said something that burst his bubble. He did say some ridiculous things though.

“I don’t love you. Yet”

“Shut up, you can’t just say shit like that”

“Like what?”

“Things that would keep me up at night”

“Things that have the ‘L’ word in them?”

“Things exactly like that”

“I love your eyes, I love your hair, I love your body-”

Your heart can literally not shut up at the memory. You couldn’t help but smile looking back at that night despite undoubtedly catching a cold.

Jongho’s actually never been the type to say things like that. Not to your knowledge at least. Now it’s really gotten you to conceptualise the thought.

It wouldn’t hurt to give him another ring, you found yourself wanting to talk to him even more just thinking about it.

“What do you want?” A groggy voice answered the phone, it was almost forced.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at- ummphh home” From the sounds of it, he was definitely not at home. Anyone could tell that was a fist to a punching bag.

“I told you you’re a bad liar, Jongho”

“I’m at the gym” Jongho would never go to a gym, especially when he was an illegal underground boxer with access to a private ring at any time without disturbances. He’s just not about that public life.

“What for? There’s no match tonight-”

“If you don’t have anything serious to say, I’m going to hang up now. Bye-” You weren’t even phased by his sudden attitude, it was nothing new you had to experience after that night when you, kind of, rejected him?

The red numbers on your digital clock sitting on your kitchen counter from across the room glared at you, beaming 8:21 PM brightly. Without a doubt, most gyms in the area would be closed by now. There was only one option and that was the underground.

It wasn’t far from your old apartment building. Still quite safely distanced for you to walk to without any fear of the unknown in the midst of the dark.

The flickering street lights only made you feel wary and oddly enough made you feel like you were off doing something illegal and sketchy. Well, you’re going to an illegal underground boxing venue for christ’s sake.

The old storage building on top of it was nearly abandoned, perfect to cast away onlookers from the commotion downstairs. Now, it’s used to store random equipment and other gym goods.

Usually, there would be some sort of security by the door when you walked in, but there were no matches tonight. Thank god for that. You couldn’t stand seeing Jongho getting tumbled around with fists to his pretty face.

From a distance, you could hear the faint sounds of grunting and panting as you walked down the familiar corridor. The boxing ring was to the left, empty, cleaner than before. It was impressive how they completely cleaned it of the bloodstains splattered from previous matches.

To the left was the locker room. Yes. That locker room. You still wondered how you just decided to fuck some guy in a public-but-not-so public shower with hygiene concerns completely thrown out the window. Who knew what kind of germs this underground shower had.

In front of you was another corridor, leading to another large room. The lighting was slightly brighter than the room with the boxing ring in it. It had all the necessary training equipment for a professional boxer.

Jongho’s shirt stuck to his back from the sweat, you could see the outline of his back muscles through the thin material as he threw hard punches. His calves were insanely defined, flexing as he jogged in his spot with his arms raised defensively.

“Ahem-” Jongho’s head snapped a three-sixty as soon as he heard you clear your throat for his attention. His brows lowered as he recognised you.

“You shouldn’t be out at this time” Jongho holds the punching bag still before ripping the velcro strap off of his boxing gloves with his teeth.

“That’s a bit hypocritical coming from you” You leaned against the frame of the entrance with your arms crossed against your chest as you observed Jongho from a distance.

“Why are you here anyway?” The boxing gloves fell into Jongho’s bag with a thud before the zipper seals it away.

“Came to see you of course”

“You’re already bored of that asshole so you came to see me? That’s nice” Jongho’s eyes never met you the second time the moment he started packing away all his stuff, hair dampened in his sweat as his skin glistened under the lighting.

“I’m not bored of him, he just isn’t you” That honestly sounded better in your head, it made you cringe hearing that come out of your mouth but it was true.

“What do I have that he doesn’t I wonder”

“A lot more than you think” You watched as Jongho twisted the cap off his bottle, taking a large gulp of his water before turning his gaze back onto you.

“Go home, it’s late”

“Not until I get a proper explanation”

“Explanation of what?”

“Of your little outburst at the diner, genius” You heard Jongho sigh as he slung his bag over his shoulder, stepping closer to the exit, stepping closer to you.

“I told you, I needed to get out some anger-”

“Don’t make me repeat myself”

“I’m tired, can’t we talk about this in the morning or something? Maybe when I’m not so sweaty?”

“Why don’t you go take a shower and then we can talk about it?”

“What, you want to join me again?”

“For the record, I didn’t join you, it just sorta happened” A blush crept well on your cheeks as you had to recall that moment.

“C’mon, let’s go. I need to lock this place up” Jongho made sure to carefully push past you out the exit, gripping one strap of his bag as he dipped into the dark corridor with you following closely behind.

You didn’t know whether you were too close or too far behind from the lack of lighting supporting your vision. For all you know, you could be breathing right down his neck.

The night’s cold air engulfed you the moment you stepped out of the building, making you clutch your hoodie with crossed arms as Jongho twisted and turned his keys.

“Why do you keep avoiding my question?” A look of confusion washed over Jongho’s face as he came down to the bottom of the steps.

“Not everything needs an answer”

“This one certainly does. It’s like robbing a bank and asking the cops why you’re going to jail” Unbelievable this kid.

Jongho looked defeated, he really couldn’t get himself out of this one. Now, what’s left if for him to face it.

“Let me walk you home” Oh he was definitely trying to avoid it all right.

“Only if you promise to stay and talk about it” Now you know you’ve won.

With a huff, Jongho followed you closely behind, hands shoved in the pockets of the same jacket he had worn before. It looked quite warm, to be honest.

After a quiet walk down the street with a few turns, you stood in front of the old apartment building. It wasn’t much but it was enough to keep you warm and safe in this town.

“Don’t even think about trying to run away” You could see Jongho inching backwards away from the steps from the corner of your eye as you twisted the key into the keyhole of the building’s entrance.

“For the record, I didn’t actually promise anything so I can just leave now” Your foot was halfway through the door when you turned back around to Jongho further down the sidewalk than before.

“Don’t you want to stay the night?” Now that was something that had seized his attention.

“Why would I want to do that?” Jongho turned around almost immediately, eyes softening as he hesitantly stepped closer.

“Because it’s cold and you’re tired?”

“You’re actually not wrong” Well that wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be.

The inside of the apartment building wasn’t much less colder than outside, it did take away your shivers though. Jongho’s footsteps were unmistakably louder than yours as the two of you treaded up the steps to your door before unlocking it with a click that welcomed you into the warm apartment.

Jongho stepped inside with his eyes all over the place, simply inspecting the unfamiliar place. It was quite embarrassing for him to spot the bowl of m&m’s you had forgotten on your coffee table.

“Now tell me”

“Oh my fucking god,” Jongho chuckled as he threw his head back in defeat, slumped on the couch with you seated cross-legged beside him and head rested on your fist. “, you’re unbelievable”.

“You seem to like that about me”

Jongho let out a sigh before facing you, turning his body so that now he was slightly a little closer making you feel a faint of his breathing against your arm.

“You want to know why I did what I did at the diner?”

“That’s the whole point of bringing you here”

You could see the faint scar on his eyebrow from that night, it was the scar of the cut you tended to after his loss in the ring against Jungkook. All his other cuts were gone, it was just that one that was still there, maybe permanent.

The last time you were this close face to face with Jongho was when he told you to be his. Since then, you never bothered to give him a valid answer.

“I didn’t want you getting hurt”

“What do you mean ‘getting hurt’? You don’t think I can take care of myself?” You found it quite diverting that Jongho actually cared about you.

“Everyone gets hurt by their ex more than once, trust me, I know”

“I’m not dumb like that. No offence” Jongho huffed a stifled chuckle as he dipped his face to hide a small smile.

“You’re smart, yet you still can’t figure it out”

“I can’t think when I’m nervous” Your breath hitched at the back of your throat as Jongho leaned closer with a soft smile on his face.

“You’re nervous?” Now you were.

“Does it look like I am?” You could’ve sworn Jongho’s eyes started sparkling as you gazed deeper in them. Were they getting bigger or was he just getting closer?

“I make you nervous, don’t I?” Yes, yes you do.

“You’re not even doing anything” It was simply just his voice, his face, his everything.

“Neither do you,” You were frozen in your spot as Jongho brought a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear before cupping your face “, yet you still manage to make me feel things I shouldn’t”.

“Things like what?” You never realised how close he was until you felt his forehead rested against yours.

“Things that have the ‘L’ word in it” The only thing you could hear was the sound of your heart almost thumping out of your ribcage.

Jongho’s touch was so soft and delicate on your face, his hands were gentle with you as they trailed down to your neck and to your waist. His eyes never left yours as they drooped with each centimetre decreasing between your lips.

Your head stirred a bit before tilting to the side, lips heavily brushing against Jongho’s before locking them. You never knew how much you had missed the feeling of his lips against yours until now. They were so perfect and plump as your lips moved in sync with his hands scrunching the material of your shirt at your waist.

Your head felt lighter with each passing second, you couldn’t help but to bring your hands up to his face and letting your fingers tangle through his hair. It only brought your bodies closer, but not close enough. Your legs push you off the position you were in and slung over each side of Jongho, making you sit on his lap. An awfully too familiar position you found yourself in.

A deep groan emits from the back of Jongho’s throat as his hands rummaged all over your back with your hips rocking back and forth subtly on his crotch. You could feel the enlarging tent against your soaked pussy from under your pants.

Your chest pressed against Jongho’s as his tongue frisked with yours and his hands gripped firmly on your hips helping you rock back and forth against his hard cock underneath his sweats. A quiet whimper left your lips in between the kiss from Jongho’s hard squeeze on your ass that prompted you to grind harder and faster on his crotch.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this shit again”

“You’re the one who mmph fuck- invited me inside” Jongho slid his hands underneath your shirt, smoothing them over your skin before hoisting the shirt above your head and tossing it to the side.

“Fair enough” Jongho’s lips pecked yours before pursuing his kisses down your jawline and to your neck. You hugged Jongho’s head close to your chest as his wet kisses smother your entire upper body.

Jongho’s hands mesmerised you with his lingering touch all over your back and ass, playing with the clip of your bra before unhooking it, letting your breasts free from its cups for him to take one into his mouth as he caresses with the other.

The feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple only made your pussy clench around nothing but gush at the sensation. His warm breath fanned over the skin of your chest, raising goosebumps as the wetness in your panties spread.

You tug at Jongho’s shirt, scrunching the bottom before raising it over his head and carelessly tossing it away. The outline of his pecks wasn’t too prominent, but they were still there for you to be able to trace them with a finger. You couldn’t help but to just smooth your hands over his chest as his lips fell back onto yours.

Jongho’s thumbs hooked under the waistband of your pants as his fingers rest on your hips. He tugged at them before hooking the rest of his fingers underneath to pull them down as you slowly got onto your knees for him to bring down your pants with your panties.

It was the same look on his face from the other night, this time just with a little more lust. Jongho looked up at you with droopy eyes as his hands roamed your bare ass, pushing your body closer to his.

“Have you figured it out yet?” It was a mere whisper but you could hear him perfectly clearly.

“I won’t believe you until you say it” You kicked off your pants and panties, leaving you sitting naked on Jongho’s lap as you hooked a finger under the waistband of his sweatpants.

“It won’t mean anything to me if you don’t feel the same” Jongho looked away only for you to cup his face and turn his gaze onto you again.

“Let me show you how I feel then” You smashed your lips back onto Jongho’s again before letting your hands squeeze his thighs as you lower yourself onto your knees against the carpet.

Jongho’s jaw clenched slightly as he bucked his hips for you to pull his sweats and boxers down to his ankles before taking his sprung cock into your hand. His head fell back with a groan as you pumped his pulsating cock slowly with one hand as the other massaged his tense thigh.

“Fuck” You felt more satisfied each time Jongho’s abdomen tensed with each pump. With a lick of your lips, you leaned forward, lips brushing against his throbbing tip.

Jongho’s hand found their way onto your head, fingers combed through it as he scrunched your hair together in a make-shift ponytail. You could feel him throbbing just by the tip of your tongue as you lined the side of his dick with the tip of your tongue, satisfaction washing over you as you watch him twitch underneath your hold.

You give him a few kitten licks at the tip before wrapping your mouth around his girthy cock, swirling your tongue around as your pussy gushed over the sounds of his deep moans. His cock twitched in your mouth as you pumped what you couldn’t reach with one hand.

“Fuck- keep going, just like that ohmygod” You bopped your head faster up and down his dick, looking up occasionally with furrowed brows and doe eyes to meet his lustful ones.

Jongho groaned louder as his legs stirred more evidently from your hums against his dick while it hit the back of your throat. The grip on your hair grew tighter, almost making your scalp sting from it.

“Come here, baby” There was something about him calling you ‘baby’ that made your heart flutter. Smiling teasingly, you got up from your knees and back onto the couch where Jongho pinned you underneath him before attacking your neck with his lips, sucking a little too long on the same spot. There was probably a purple gift waiting for you there.

You could feel the tip of his dick poke at your entrance ever so slightly, you couldn’t help but bring your hips closer in hopes for more to fill your neediness. But Jongho only went down further, from playing with your breasts to kissing a line down your stomach before stopping right above your throbbing clit.

Jongho shot a droopy glance from below, making you bend your legs, letting him hook his arms underneath your legs. It was quite a view with Jongho intently gazing up at your with his face dipped between your legs.

You could feel his warm breath hit against your clit, making you clench here and there before he gave you a few kitten licks. Your head fell back as your arms retracted above your head, sliding under the cushions in the corner of your couch.

“Jongho” He gripped your thighs harder, holding you in place as he sucked on your clit and swirled his tongue around it before dipping to your folds and sliding his flattened tongue up and down.

It was body-stirring the way he latched his lips onto your folds with his tongue swirling around everywhere and nose buried against your clit. A shaky moan left your lips as you subconsciously started to grind your hips against his face, fingers holding back his hair as he immersed himself between your legs.

“Mhmphh fuck- right there” Jongho unhooked an arm from under your leg, bringing it up to one of your breasts before squeezing it with your hand over his.

He moved his tongue as if he were hungry, making your hips buckle further against his face. Your nerves sparked left and right each time Jongho’s nose rubbed against your clit, making your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“You look so fucking perfect” Jongho unlatched his lips from your folds, crawling back up over to you.

“Don’t I always?” You cupped Jongho’s face, caressing his cheek with your thumb as the tip of his dick poked further at the entrance of your pussy, making your brain shrivel into a cloud with a slow agonisingly pleasureful stretch.

“Even more perfect like this” Your mouth hanged wide as your eyes widened with the sudden stretch from Jongho’s cock sliding in.

“Fuck ohmygod-” Jongho hoisted your legs around his waist before hovering over you again, rocking his hips slowly as he buried himself deep in you.

“I forgot how you fucking felt around me oh my fucking god” A small whimper came from the back of your throat as Jongho dipped his face in the crook of your neck and his hips slapping against yours faster with sounds of skin slapping against skin bouncing off the walls.

You couldn’t even force a single coherent thought out of your mushed brain with Jongho thrusting into you with an unreckoned speed. Almost all of the air inside your lungs were knocked out from each thrust, leaving you gasping inaudibly.

Thank god you had mistakenly left a small gap of the window open otherwise you’d have a sweat patch on the couch you laid upon. Jongho’s skin was still soft as you smoothed your hands over his back, feeling each muscle with every thrust as his forearms supported him off the couch.

Jongho’s face appeared again after dipping into your neck, his lips parted as he brought them down to yours, slobbering a lazy kiss as your arms slung around his neck, playing with the locks at the back of his head. You couldn’t control your moans any further as Jongho began to lift his lower body, hooking himself deep into you before snaking his arms back around your waist.

“Nnghaa fuck!” Jongho lifted you off your back and pulled you in a sitting position on his dick, sliding himself lower down on the couch for him to grip your waist and snapping his hips upwards into you.

Almost unidentifiable sounds left your mouth as you held your breasts, head falling back with your eyes as Jongho held you in place for his hips to slap against yours. You couldn’t help but fall forward, hugging Jongho’s head to your chest as your body shrivelled with each thrust bringing you closer to an orgasm.

Jongho’s thrusts became faster and harder as he grunted against your chest, sending lewd moans out of your mouth. Your head felt light as your vision clouds with a foggy white, the spark of nerves in the pit of your stomach was threatening to combust soon enough with a pace like this.

“I’m so closenngha oh yesyesyes!” Your throat was almost as dry as a desert as you widely gaped with furrowed brows.

Jongho clenches his jaw hard, brows furrowed and eyes darkened as he focuses on your body. Your face scrunches in absolute pleasure as your legs quivered at the pace Jongho was thrusting into you.

“Fuckfuckfuck! Jongho- ngghhaa fuck yes!” A wave of pure bliss washes over your body like a tsunami, the ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach burst into doses of pleasure being released through all courses of your body as Jongho’s hard thrusts sent you forward and legs threatening to close if it wasn’t for his hips preventing it. Jongho didn’t stop there, his thrusts became sloppier and your body quivered from the overwhelming pleasure.

“A little bit more, baby, almost fuckmmhph there” It felt like one of those bull rides by the way Jongho lifted his lower body off the couch to thrust into you as he chased his own high.

“Jongnnghaa oh shit!” Jongho’s intense gaze pierced right through you as he flipped you back to the previous position with you underneath him, legs wrapped around his torso as his thrusts became sloppy and deeper.

“Mhmmmphhh fuuuck” A warm spurt of cum pools inside you as Jongho slammed his hips hard one last time against you with an almost animalistic loud groan against your ear.

You were out of breath, hair sticking to your forehead as your an arm flared back behind you and the other playing with the hair at the back of Jongho’s head. Neither of you spoke a word for what seemed to be an awkward forever.

“I love you” It wasn’t as hard to say as you thought it would be, maybe because you actually meant it.

“What did you just say?” Jongho’s head shoots up almost immediately from the crook of your neck, eyes flickering back and forth between yours.

“You heard me” You chuckled a bit, letting your fingers play with the short strands of hair in front of his face as your feet slide up and down Jongho’s legs.

A small smile caved its way onto Jongho’s face as he propped himself comfortably over you. It was almost as if everything that had just happened in the last fifteen minutes had vanished from his mind.

“Say it again” There was a hint of joy in his voice when he spoke again, making you curious of his ends.

“I love you” You always found it so difficult to face that word, maybe because it hurt you too much in the end.

“You really mean it?”

“Why else would I say it?”

“I must be dreaming”

“You’re literally still inside of me, how can you possibly be dreaming?”

It was so surprising to hear Jongho’s chuckle. You didn’t even know he had a gummy smile until this convenient time.

Jongho’s eyes truly sparkled as he gazed down at you, smile softening before planting a slow passionate kiss on your lips. You could’ve sworn they were about to crack any moment now.

“I love you”

part one • part two

#ateez smut #kpop smut #choi jongho #jongho smut #ateez fanfics #fanfiction #kpop fanfics #smut:jongho #boxer!jongho #ateez imagines #kpop imagines

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