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#No you don’t understand what That photo did to me bc I had to dig up my junes sketch stash to find this doodle 😭😭
wrecked-fuse · 1 year
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Also them are together and having a dog 🏀🎸📣
🔪🔪🔪 в вк не репостить🔪🔪🔪
idk how you i call em carmunham lol
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soulwillower · 3 years
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semi-charming •  bill denbrough
(bill denbrough x reader smut)
requested:  Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :)    +      AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH     +     don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝
i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj
also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh  !!!!!!!!!
warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au, 
(losers + reader are 19+.)
4.1k words
the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional. 
it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that. 
but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake. 
a loud thump made you jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise. 
it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely two minutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door. 
your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes. 
three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room. his sweaty bare abdomen made your eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.
"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either. 
“so what is your fucking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raised his brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, cocky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music." 
you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknight and you had class in the morning, "wh- what, no- i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a fucking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off." 
then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, started laughing. the other one laughed too, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation. 
"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding. 
"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give. 
"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in." 
your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it. 
"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to fucking hit him. 
you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped, sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?" 
you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms. 
but a deep voice grunting 'ow, fuck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're reminded that you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?" 
that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so cocky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person. 
but as bad as the first two experiences were, the third time you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst. 
your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg. 
you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.
it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall. 
but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!" 
his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him. 
"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either. 
"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts. 
he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet. 
"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack." 
he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all fucking night if you aren't strong enough to move this shit?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf. 
he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot. 
you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you. 
he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip. 
it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane.  "y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says that on my door." you say breathlessly. 
whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth. 
he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away. 
you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid. 
his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh. 
you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being fucked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from. 
when he finally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg. "mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done." 
"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated." 
you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly. 
he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen. it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're just horny.
"i thought you were cute, you know, until you showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised, "i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch." his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back. you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point, "i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are,  i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk. 
"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out. 
"because i kind of want to fuck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to fuck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you. 
you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed cock as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you. 
then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasure it gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own.  "fuck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving? 
he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants. 
he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly. you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes. 
"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down. 
he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate. 
he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against your mattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how fucking beautiful bill is hitting you at once. 
you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tits, pinching your nipple as you grind down against his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his pants against your clothed clit. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb making contact with your clit takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure. 
"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.
"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?" 
you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "fuck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's fucking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to." 
you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his cock. 
and then you’re pushing aside your panties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick fucking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back. 
“shit, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly. 
he looks like fucking heaven.
you kiss his neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.
“fuck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily. he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.
"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you fuck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd fuck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging. and your hand rises to squeeze around his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan. 
his smirk sends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling in your core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.
you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep. “i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums. 
your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.
your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out. 
he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. then his thumb snakes its way to your lips, his grin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce. 
"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his cock warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his cock, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building. 
"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundly before pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his cock before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours. 
your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.
 "you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to. 
you watch as his eyes admire the half-lids of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already. 
he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your cunt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple. 
you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum. then his thumb rubs circles on your clit and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “fuck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his cock in bliss, your orgasm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says cockily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours. 
“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close. 
"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters. 
you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, fuck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he cums, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name. he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall. 
"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous. 
"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease. 
you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him. 
tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew
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bratkook · 4 years
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quiet, baby. (m) jjk
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pairing. jungkook x reader genre. smut, pwp warnings. exhibitionism, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, slightly teasing/mean kook turns into whiny kook at the end lol word count. 3.2k note. today on jlin spews together a smutty drabble while ignoring her other wips just bc that one specific photo of jungkook is eating away at her brain, i give you this, it’s not edited, idk if i hate it or not and i wrote it all on tumblr mobile so..yeah🤩
leave feedback/reblog/send an ask okie bye❣️
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“That’s it, slow and steady baby.” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, husky and teasing, edges of his lips ghosting around your ear as he sighs when you do exactly as he asks. 
Your head falls forward with a choked groan as his hand slips under your skirt, fingers finding their desired target as he begins to circle your clit, your skin feeling hot from his sinful hands. Everything feels stuffy now, the sweat accumulating behind your neck, your face burning in embarrassment at you actually doing this, the thrill of where you were making another gush of arousal escape you. 
When you had jokingly teased your boyfriend during dinner, your hand lightly ghosting over his cock through the thick denim he wore, you were lying if you said you didn’t think it would lead to anything besides seeing him flustered as he asked for the check. Jungkook always had something up his sleeve whenever you decided to be bold and you knew your actions would be well worth it.
Apparently you were right, your boyfriend did in fact have plans, the gears turning in his mind as you walked hand in hand down the streets, his half hard cock pressing against his jeans so prominently it was a blessing he wore long enough layers to cover it up. Jungkook wasn’t a sucker, if you thought you could tease him and act coy without getting similar treatment in return you had another thing coming. 
As he stepped onto the subway and glanced around he smiled when he took note of one other person occupying the car, tucked away in a far corner with their eyes shut and earbuds blasting who knows what. It was perfect, you were completely unaware of the filthy plan he had as he guided you to the very back, but as soon as the subway started moving so did his hands. 
Slowly at first, trailing along the exposed skin of your thighs, playing with the hem of your pleated skirt in a way so innocent you allowed yourself to get comfortable in your seat. Then came the teasing words, knowing just what your fantasies were and using them to his advantage, wrapped neatly with a ribbon on top, beautifully disguised to make you think it was in your favor. 
You in fact were a sucker, which is exactly how you found yourself perched on top of Jungkook with your skirt bunched up, thighs held apart and hooked over his knees as you creamed his cock, taking him completely without a care in the world. Each roll of your sensitive clit makes you shudder above him, needing to shut your eyes to stop the possibility of making eye contact with the only other person here, if you couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see you. That’s the mentality that kept you going. 
Jungkook simply chuckles when you rest your forehead against the seat in front of you, enjoying the way your body trembles with pleasure, your own hands tightly clutching onto the arm circling around your waist as you do your best to keep your moans in. The pleasure was slowly bubbling inside of you, the roll of his fingers lulling you further under the haze of it all and thats when he speaks.
“Let’s play a game hm?” he whispers, voice sounding steady and unaffected, only making you feel like more of a mess at how you were behaving. 
“A game?” Your voice is soft, slurred at the ends as it spills out of your mouth, curling over your tongue as you struggle to speak. Jungkook knows he has you now, your competitive streak mixed with the lust clouding your brain made for the perfect scenario for Jungkook’s plan, there was no way you would say no. 
“Yeah,” he sighs, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek, rutting his hips up into you and smirking when you whimper in response from his cock rubbing against your g-spot. “If you can be a good girl and make me cum before our stop, I won’t punish you for your little stunt during dinner.”
“I didn’t–“ you start, the lie catching in your throat before it can even fully form, your nails digging into the leather of his jacket when he spreads your thighs further apart and delivers a swift smack against your aching clit, laughing meanly when your body twitches at the sensation. 
“You did.” Jungkook continues to mouth along your skin, kissing down your jaw and onto your neck. When the automated voice fills the car and alerts you of the coming exit you feel the way he smiles against your skin, a small hum reaching your ears at the thought of you running out of time. The shadow of his bucket hat not allowing you to see his eyes when you turn back to look at him in curiosity, but you don’t need to see them to know the evil glint he’s sporting. “Better hurry up baby, we’re a few stops away.”
“Jungkook,” you whine, the first fully audible response from you so far. Could you make him cum in that amount of time? Possibly, but when Jungkook was determined to tease you he could hold off his own orgasm without a hitch, you on the other hand couldn’t and you knew if you came before him whatever punishment he had planned would only stretch out, it could go in your favor but you were too needy to test it out. 
“C’mon, this is what you wanted isn’t it?” His hands roam up until he’s gripping your hips, fingers digging into your skin and beginning to guide you to grind on top of him, the torturous glide of his cock rubbing all the right spots inside of you making you gasp. 
“No,” you whimper, but the way your hips start to move once more show otherwise, a steady roll of your hips continuing and Jungkook doesn’t need to see the mess you’re making to know just how turned on you are by this. The base of his cock had a pool of your arousal around it, sticky and shiny each time you slid off before rolling back, no doubt ruining his underwear pushed a few inches down but that didn’t matter when you felt this good around him. 
The disinterested sigh he lets out only makes you speed up, the loosening grip on your hips as he leans back into his seat has you desperate to keep his attention on you, show him how good you could be for him. With newfound determination your hands move to grip onto the back of the seat a few inches in front of you, holding yourself steady as you begin to bounce on top of him, hoping your actions are discreet enough to conceal what you were doing from wandering eyes. 
Jungkook smirks when he feels your velvety walls tighten with each raise of your hips, lifting up until the head of his cock was the only thing nuzzled within you before your warmth took him in once more as you sank back down with a light thump. The rumbling of the subway wheels conceal the noise enough but he isn’t even sure he would care if anyone bares witness to this, seeing you lose yourself on top of him, desperate to make him cum despite being in public. 
This had been a fantasy for both of you for so long and as the subway approaches the following stop you feel the tiny sense of panic begin to set in, the bright lights of the station grabbing your attention as you spot a handful of people lingering by the tracks. You still your hips as you wait, hoping none of them would step foot onto the car you were in, not entirely sure if you’d be able to pass off riding your boyfriend as innocently sitting on his lap. 
“Is my baby shy now?” His words snap you back, a tilt of his head finally allowing you to see his eyes as he stares at you, a genuine look of understanding being passed between you, knowing if you had become too uncomfortable to continue he’d stop with no questions asked. 
Your eyes move to stare out of the window once more, sighing in relief when the passengers board the car in front of you instead and the train resumes moving. “Just don’t want anyone to see.” 
Jungkook laughs lightly at your words, sitting straighter as he circles his arms around your waist again, holding you still on top of him with his cock buried deep within you as his right hand creeps under your skirt once more. “Don’t want anyone to see what a needy slut you are?”
His words have the desired effect on you, whimpering and dropping your head back as his deft fingers find your clit like second nature, rubbing tight circles around your hardened nub as you tightened around his length. 
“No,” you gasp, “only w-want you to see that.” The desperation laced in your voice makes it hard to recognize yourself but he revels in it, let’s himself soak in your words, the small tingles of pleasure spreading throughout his body before he’s planting his feet firmly onto the floor and thrusting up into you. A squeal of surprise fills the space, piercing through the silence it's a shock the single passenger was still sound asleep with his earbuds popped in. 
“Quiet, baby.” he mocks with a teasing tilt to his voice, continuing to rut up into you, loving every moan that slips out of your plush lips, swollen from the way you bit down on them. Jungkook knew neither of you were being discreet now, with the way your body jostled each time he thrust up, your face twisted up in pleasure, illuminated by the bright lights, if anyone glanced in your direction it would be clear as day.
You didn’t care anymore, too lost in the feeling of his thick cock filling you up, the sensation of the denim rubbing along the back of your thighs with each roll of his hips, the familiar scent of your boyfriend's cologne wrapping around you as he held you close. Paired with the way his fingers continued to flick against your clit, it was too much, already feeling your climax approaching. 
Jungkook knows, can feel the way your walls get tighter, the tremble in your body as it starts to take over you, the breathy whines of his name as it gets closer. The need to cum has you quickening up your hips, meeting his thrusts in tandem, the two of you so lost in your pleasure you don’t notice the approaching stop. The automated voice doesn’t register in your head, your ears full of the rhythmic thumping of your heart, eyes once again shut and the prettiest pout on your lips that Jungkook could faintly see in the reflection of the window. 
“Fuck, so pretty,” he groans, eyes locked onto your reflection, seeing your brows furrow together as your mouth drops open in a silent moan. Just as your orgasm is about to wash over you he pulls his hand away from your clit and stills your hips entirely with an iron grip, with all the stimulation gone your orgasm is ripped away from you, a whiny plea making Jungkook chuckle. 
“No, no Jungkook please.” Your hips fight against his grip, desperately searching for any friction to relieve the ache of your ruined orgasm, rutting against him with a frown, head dropping forward as you stare down. With shaky hands you lift up your skirt and sigh when you see the way his fingers are covered in your slick, inches from your throbbing clit, choosing to deny you your pleasure like the teasing asshole he was. 
“Did you forget already?” he asks, bringing a hand up to gently rub along your cheek as you whimper, leaning into his touch. When the doors close and the subway takes off again he chuckles, knowing your time was running out, already planning all the ways he would tease you the minute you got home. “One more stop baby.”
Taking a deep breath you try to ignore the flutters in your stomach, knowing exactly what you had to do to make Jungkook fall apart underneath you. When his hand loosens up on your hip you begin moving again, not holding back the moans that spill from your mouth anymore, making a show of grabbing his hands and trailing them up your thighs and under your shirt, knowing just how much he loved your tits. 
He grunts against your shoulder in appreciation when his large palm grabs a handful of your boobs over the flimsy bralette you’re wearing, giving them a rough squeeze as you mewl above him.  “Fuck, Jungkook,” you sigh dreamily, humming when the tip of his cock nudges along your g-spot. “You always make me so messy.”
Jungkook groans now, your words and the soft wet smacks of your messy pussy sinking onto his cock affecting him, making his head swim with desire as you whine when he pulls at your hardened nipple. “Shit, you feel so warm.” He’s speaking softly, almost like his thoughts are spilling out without warning, always losing himself whenever you become vocal, needing to hear just how good he made you feel to allow himself to bask in it. 
His eyes flutter shut, enjoying the drag of your walls on his cock with each roll of your hips, your chest heaving as you panted, his hand still cupping your breast, teasingly tugging and twisting at the pebbled bud, wanting nothing more than to lick and suck his way around your chest but this would have to do. 
“Kookie,” you breathe, “wanna feel you, please.” Your earlier orgasm starts to rise once more, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold it back before him and with the stop approaching soon he had to cum now to save you from whatever torture he had planned. 
“Yeah?” He huffs out a moan, whiny and needy, a complete contrast to the unaffected demeanor he had earlier. Jungkook couldn’t play calm and collected anymore, already diving head first into this, too far gone to be able to pull back now. 
“I’m gonna make you even messier for me, s-show you–“ he’s cut off with a gasp when you start to pulse your walls around him, head falling back as a deep groan escapes him, his own orgasm crawling up his spine. “Fuck, show you how good girls get rewarded.”
“Please, I’ve been good, just wanna make you cum.” An unrestrained moan fills the air as he starts to thrust up into you in desperation, the only thought in his mind being filling you up full of his cum, wanting to see it dripping around your ruined underwear, slicked along your inner thighs and concealed by that tiny skirt you wore. You were always so hell bent on teasing him, knowing just how much he loved to ruin you afterwards, turning you into a delirious mess all because of his cock. He loves it. 
“Don’t worry baby,” he grunts, the added layers he wore only making it stuffier for him as he begins to sweat, clinging to his body as he pants behind you. “Gonna fill you up.”
Trailing your own hand down your torso your fingers meet your throbbing clit, shuddering on top of him as you start to rub against it, jolts of pleasure coursing through you as your climax inches closer. Jungkook isn’t far off, the coil inside of him tightening as you whimper each time his cock hits the back of your cervix, his brain heady with lust, not being able to hold back the increased volume of his moans. 
“Fuck, almost there.” You hum in confirmation, nodding along as your body heats up, muscles beginning to tense, mind starting to float with each flick of your wrist. 
“Show me I’m a good girl Kook,” you whine out so beautifully, so needy and desperate for him, and he loses it, rutting into you sloppily until he’s cumming, ribbons of white stuffing you full and warming you up as he fuck you. The feeling of his cum inside you sends you over the edge as well, your thighs giving out on you as you fully plop on top of him, your fingers continuing to rub along your sensitive clit as you shudder and twitch above him. 
“Fuck,” he sighs out, panting by your ear and mixing in with the small ringing you hear from the strength of your orgasm. Slowly, his hand slips out from underneath your shirt, rubbing along the skin of your hips to help calm you down as your body trembles. With a small groan you pull yourself off of his softening cock, readjusting your messy underwear before scooting back onto the seat beside him. 
Jungkook watches as your eyes widen at the sight of his cock, shiny with your arousal, coated in globs of his cum, looking just as inviting as always. He chokes on a moan when you instantly bend forward and slip it into your mouth, the sensitivity making him whine as you lick his cock clean, pulling off with a pop and a smirk. “Was I good?”
He narrows his eyes at your teasing tone, the devious look on your face showing him that you weren’t done yet. Jungkook thought he had one upped you, caught you by surprise after you teased him and took you on a run for your money by doing this, but you looked completely satisfied with yourself as he slid his cock back into his underwear and pulled his jeans back up. 
“You’re evil.”
Jungkook smiles when you laugh, both of you pausing when the automated voice alerts you of your stop approaching in a few seconds. As the two of you stand up from the seats your eyes roam the car once more, a gasp escaping when you realize the only other person here has stepped off. 
“Oh my god, when did they leave?”
“Last stop, don’t worry they left before it got good.” He clutches your hands when you go to swat at him, laughing heartily as you approach the car doors. “They totally knew too.”
Jungkook had seen the moment they left, earbuds still pushed in, but the way they had glanced in their direction shaking their head with a smile let him know that he was completely aware of the filthy things you two were doing. 
“Jungkook!” you whine, stepping off the subway and onto the platform, grimacing when you feel the way your sticky underwear rubs against you. 
“What? This was all part of your scheme you little devil, at least we didn’t have a massive audience.”
Well he had a point, it could’ve been worse, at least this way you were able to tick off the box beside this fantasy. “We’re never doing this again, I don’t care how hot it was.”
Your boyfriend just smiles, intertwining your hands together as you exit the station. He knew you better than anyone so he knew you were absolutely doing this again.
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jonesyjonesyjonesy · 3 years
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hey love, so I was wonderingggggg, did jonesy ever have any groupies or like someone he was during the zeppelin years that wasn't mo? I heard something saying he saw one woman quite frequently but besides that nothing really. just thought I should ask bc if anyone knows, it's you! 😘😘😘
Ahhhhhh dreaddreaddread
I have a whole slew of asks to get to, but this one I need to get right on out with so that it's not on my mind or else it will consume me.
So, I only know of two off hand that I can point directly at.
Lovely @johnpauljones made a post referencing a groupie named Mickey for whom, according to Miss Pamela, Jonesy had bought a lil studio apartment for around 1970.
The other account I know of is detailed in Morgana Welch's Hollywood Diaries which I have read snippets of (and have screenshots of, which I am not going to post here but would be happy to PM). She details the experience as being extremely enjoyable which...fantastic, love that for everyone involved. From what I understand, they only had one encounter (much to her disappointment). She's featured in the infamous Rodney's flip-off photo --
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-- at the very center of the photo (featuring a slew of familiar characters).
Any other stories, of which I am sure there are many, I don't know of and, frankly, don't want to. I know it's a hazard of the job and the love of the game to come up across stories that present our beloved boys in a less than stellar light (and that's putting it mildly), but the more distant I can keep them from myself, the better. Not that I am willing to be ignorant to truth, but it just doesn't serve me to go digging in to all of that. 🤷‍♀️ It is what it is and I hope Mo had her fun and hit him in the back of the head with a wooden spoon (several times at the very least).
that all being said, I'm planning on tackling the issue briefly in Wildflowers
On a brighter note, I did read about the '77 tour on the Zeppelin forums and this made my heart explode:
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Kill me.
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AHHHHH YOU ALWAYS KILL IT W SONG REQUESTS (as you do w everything else you write bc it’s all gold). may i pls ask for only memories remain by my morning jacket w cal if you could 🥺
Hi, love! Thanks for your patience while I finished up some schoolwork before I got this request!
CW/TW: Mentions of Death. 
_______________
Calum grunts as he pushes up off the floor, hands pressed into the mattress to help assist him. It’s less his back and more of his knees that are not pleased with him. But he does this every so often, kneels on the floor on your side of the bed and digs out that shoebox full of pictures, your engagement band. He made sure that you kept the wedding ring itself. He wanted you to take that with you. 
He should probably stop calling it your side of the bed--your scent hasn’t grazed that pillow in nearly three years. The nightstand is missing your mug in the mornings and your glasses that you always forgot where you put them down. Even if you did remember to hook them around your neck, the second you pulled the glasses down you’d forget instantly where you put them. And Calum wouldn’t be laughing at that, but sometimes he’s not sure how you got around in the world. You always told him glasses weren’t important; they were replaceable if you somehow managed to lose them for good. The only things you didn’t forget were the important things. 
And it’s true. You remembered birthdays, anniversaries, just how the kids liked their plates arranged when they were younger and how a kiss to the back of Calum’s neck would always make his shiver spine. You remembered all the quirks to the dogs and you’d remembered songs from decades ago like they were still new to the radio. 
Settling onto the edge of the bed, Calum pulls up the top to box and right on top is the letter you wrote to him while he was on tour, all those years ago. He had saved it, doing his best to preserve it in your handwriting but he had typed up and saved another draft of it, so he’d never forget it. 
 Dear Calum, 
You might think I’m crazy. But I can hear the laughter in the walls--the sound of you laughing at all my purposefully bad dance moves and I can hear the kisses you give to top of Duke’s head. And I know the house is empty except for me and Duke. I know you are miles away. I know you are dazzling thousands every night. But if only they could hear what I hear in the walls. Your bass occasionally thumping the pictures frames and the shrieks when we fail at some new recipe and resign to take out. If only they could hear, the sound of you when you’re murmuring gently in your sleep or the snores that keep me up some nights. If only they could hear the whispers we don’t want to give power too, the anxiety that sometimes build, but knowing that the two of us can confide in each other. 
If only I could capture what I hear just below that too, and send that to you as well. If only I had a way to let you hear what I hear. If I could tell you sometimes I hear a baby’s laughter, or the bickering of sibling. If only I could tell you about the years I hear waiting for us in this house, maybe other one--a place bigger for the dogs and kids. I can hear the splash of our pool with kids from the neighborhood. 
I don’t know if you hear that too in the house when I’ve gone for a conference or even if you imagine it when I’m just in the next room. I know I do with you. Even if you’re just outside with your trainer, I can hear the house whispering for more. And I could totally be projecting on some poor house, that doesn’t ever have wants or desires, just an existence that which is it content with, but there is something happening, something that I want to let you know about. It hasn’t been easy for ys, but it’s always been worth it. I know our options around children may be a little tough, but I think it’ll be worth it. 
I could easily call you, I could easily text you all things. But, no, I must write it down, as some way of working through my own thoughts. I hope I don’t sound crazy. 
Though I can hear it now, you tsking at me with a shake of your head and a single raised digit--I am never crazy, just always thinking. Just always working through the thoughts that run faster than me. 
I hope you’re well. I hope the tour’s going well and you’re sleeping good at night. Have you tried that lavender like I told you about? Duke’s well, in case you’re wondering. He did well at his checkup today, just sleeping a lot still. Vet says it’s normal for a dog his age. But when he does get a good burst of energy he’s happy to trot around the backyard or around the block. He’s still eating well, so don’t fret about that. Your old man’s still kicking it. He told me to tell you, he’s not going down anytime soon. He’s just taking it easy. 
The weather is LA is turning for a bit. We’ve had some clouds for the last few days. But it’s been nice. You’d be displeased, needing that sun. But soon, you’ll be back home--see your mom and dad and be able to get that Australian sun. 
Love you, Calum. To the ends of the earth, back again, and beyond. 
Yours truly, 
Dearly Beloved. 
He’s not sure when calling you his dearly beloved became a thing. You’d remember. You’d remember to the exact date, time, and happenings. But Calum can’t seem to remember that kind of stuff. He just remembers watching you run after the kids as they shrieked about bath time and how you like kisses right on the back of your ears. 
It’s a strange thing, to remember that, remember all the times he could sneak up behind you to kiss the back of your ear and watch you jump in the shock contrasted to the way you felt cool in his hands as he turned your head one last time to kiss the beloved spot and the way dead weight is actually much heavier, the way it took so much more effort to place your head back upright than it ever took to gently cup your chin and instantly you’d turn to him, with a smile on your face. 
Calum places the letter to the side and finds your favorite old t-shirt--it was hardly a t-shirt anymore. The hole in the armpit was spreading just a little but it held the name of your old university and you wore it for everything from weeding the garden to painting the bedrooms, to gutting the kitchen during the remodel. 
Calum bought exact matching t-shirts and made small decor pillows for the kids, sprayed your signature scent onto them so they could sleep easier at night. But they still curled up in bed with him, hugging their pillows, faces buried into the pillows on your side of the bed. He’d rather them take the last of your scent--he’s happier that they got those moments. 
“Pops, I don’t understand this math question,” Trey states poking his head into the bedroom. 
Calum snaps his attention up from the box and nods. “Coming. Algebra, right?”
“Yeah,” he nods, leaning into the molding. It’s crazy to look at him now, how he’s almost surpassed Calum in height. At fifteen, Calum thought he’d surely still have a few inches maybe a foot over him. Calum remembers when Trey found out he had officially been adopted but the two of you. He was six and cried more than Calum or you did--though the margin was probably still pretty close. It couldn’t have been nine years already. 
“Do-do you have their glasses?” Trey asks quietly. “Today’s been hard. And I feel silly with a pillow in my lap as I do homework.”
Calum walks over, box in hand. “I kept a lot of their smaller things. Whatever you need--it’s always in this box.”
Trey pulls your glasses from the pile, noticing other letters and pictures scattered about in the box. He spies the college t-shirt but just next to it is a picture of you and Trey. He’s in your lap, giant headphones over his ears. “Is that from the first show I went too of yours?”
Calum only briefly catches a glance at the photo before Trey’s fully plucked it from the box. “I think so.”
Trey immediately places the glasses back into the box but holds onto the picture. “Thanks.”
“Of course.”
“So, do you happen to remember anything from Algebra?”
Calum laughs at the tease and put the box down on the dresser before following behind Trey to the living room. Brandy sits at the coffee table, her stack of color pages and pencils spread out. Calum did his best to keep her doing art. It was hard after you first died.  But slowly over the years, she’s gotten back into it. “You all good?” 
She nods. “All good in the Hood.” She got the phrase from you and here Calum was, with Brandy at ten, and he was sure she would never let the phrase die. 
Calum stops just for a moment to kiss the top of her head and then carries on to the dinning room table. “Okay, so I know I’m not a math whizz like them. But your old man still knows a thing or two about a thing or two,” he returns to Trey’e earlier quip. “Now let’s see what new math magic they have you all working in.”
Trey laughs, slipping the tiny photo of him into the back of his phone case so it shows out to the world. ��You calling it magic does not make me feel better.”
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buck-nialled · 4 years
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Could you please write an imagine where the reader is dairy sensitive, but one day she eats a lot of dairy and decides to sleep in the guest room to not bother Niall while she’s gassy, but neither of them can really sleep bc they miss the other and then it’s just super fluffy the next morning? You don’t have to if you don’t want, I’ve been enjoying your writing!
here we go again!
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Tradition - N. Horan Imagine
As you splayed your aching body down atop the guest bed, you could net help but ponder all of your past relationships and compare them to where you were now. At this moment in time, no partner you once knew came close to Niall and how he understood you. One of your first serious relationships had the tradition of questioning your self-diagnosis of lactose intolerance. It was inquired so often he almost sang it like a song after each shopping trip, every dessert, and all of the pills you carried with you just in case. The relationship that followed consisted of one major issue: listening. Particularly, the lack of it when you had mentioned your dairy allergy to the man. It was safe to say the affair between the both of you was short-lived.
But Niall, he was a gold star when it came to your issues. Even before you two took the big step of sharing a home, he always made sure to have your favorite dairy-free foods and snacks on-hand at his place. No questions about your diagnosis were asked whenever it was mentioned. And the day you called him asking for what you deemed to be the “biggest favor”, he barely saw picking up Lactaid as going out of his way.
He was especially understanding when cravings would strike for various things like iced coffee or a milkshake. Today was one of those days when the two of you shared an early dinner at a New York-inspired restaurant, whose cheesecake just looked too delectable on their menu. Neither you nor Niall had remembered for you to take your pill beforehand, which was a rare case. Normally, it was at the front of your mind at times like these, but you were desperately craving the velvety smooth dish, and your hand longed to stay in Niall’s all night, you were certain your subconscious had pushed the routine manner away.
Your mistake hit you like an epiphany two minutes into the ten-minute drive to the house. It came in a form of your stomach painfully contacting and a small whimper as your hand squeezed Niall’s free one on the compartment between the two of you. The meek sounds that kept leaving your lips in between pants caused Niall’s eyes to flick over to you in worry, and he was already predicting the cause.
“You alright, petal?” His hand sent an assuring squeeze back as he sped up the car. You kept your lips pressed tightly together, and bit down so hard on your teeth you had prepared for them to shatter from the pressure.
“I forgot…” you began, struggling to speak as another painful churn within you came to its peak. “I forgot…” you try again, only to let a strangled cry leave you a few seconds after. Niall squeezed your hand once more, taking a turn down a road that he knew would lead the two to their house faster.
“It’s alright, love. I understand, just breath.” If this was anything like labor, you could safely say you were adopting.
The drive that Niall managed to cut down to nearly six minutes felt like twenty to your body, scrunched up in the passenger seat in your attempt to find a comfortable position midway through the drive. Upon parking, you did not wait for Niall to even take the key from the ignition before you were bustling to your front door and digging through your bag for your pair of keys. You jiggled the key furiously into the doorknob before a familiar click sounded. You completely abandoned the open door, key still hanging in the lock as you raced to the guest bathroom, locking the door behind you.
Your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment at the situation you had stupidly put yourself in the middle of. Even though it has been years that you and Niall have been together, he had only caught you in this scenario once, at the very start of you dating, where you politely requested Niall to leave your apartment when the sickness had overcome you. The next morning, he had come by with your favorite flowers and candy (obviously, dairy-free) with a wide smile. Though he took it all well and without qualms, you think it was because he was not there to witness your malaise in its prime, unlike now.
Around ten minutes had passed with your figure sat on the toilet in a less-than-comfortable endeavor, when a knock on the other side of the door sounded. You almost disregarded it over the various whimpers and moans you let float around freely in all of your pain. Had it been anybody but Niall, you would have gladly ignored it. But instead, you let out a stifled “yes?”
“Hey, petal. I left some comfier clothes and water on the bed for you, whenever you’re ready to come out.” Above your suffering abdomen, you could feel your heart flutter for the man stood just outside the door. He truly cared too much for you, sometimes. But you would never let a complaint come from it.
“Thank you, Niall. Would you mind if I…if I stayed in the guest room tonight?”
“Not at all, love. Just as long as you’ll be here in the morning.” Niall jests, earning a small scoff from you.
“Trust me, I’m not going anywhere.”
True to your word, you had only made the small distance that was the guest bathroom into the connected bedroom. And true to Niall’s word, sat atop the comforter was a pair of his boxers and a tee-shirt of his, along with a pair of your favorite fuzzy socks. Near the pile of clothes sat a bottle, filled to the brim with chilled water that was practically orgasmic as you let it trickle down your throat. During your small change out of your jeans and dressy shirt, your eyes took the sight of the lingerie that sadly, would not be of use tonight. But soon, your frown curled upwards to a devious smirk when you grabbed your phone and snapped a couple of photos of yourself adorned in the blue lace.
After changing fully into Niall’s clothes and the socks, you curled beneath the comforter as the milder cramps rolled through. You and Niall had been particularly frustrated lately that neither of you could find an acceptable time to be intimate. Both of your schedules for work were practically inverted, making the time to see one another incredibly limited for both of you. The two of you had to request this date off from work three weeks prior to its happening, and both of you were eager in the days leading up to it. It goes without saying, but the flame within you burnt out the moment Niall was pulling away from the restaurant tonight, but something within you clued that the heat within Niall was still alive and growing.
You looked to find your purse on the bedside table, and fished your phone out of it, pulling up your messages with Niall.
Y/N: sorry the night ended differently than planned :,(
Ni <3: don’t be sorry love, it was neither of our faults. We were both too caught up with dinner to remember
Y/N: that cheesecake was really good
Ni <3: worth getting sick over?
Y/N: totally, but I know we were both anticipating something different. and I don’t want the night to end without pleasing you in someway
Ni <3: what are you getting at love?
Rather than answering his question, you sent him the string of photos taken only a few minutes earlier. As soon as the small “Delivered” appeared on your end, you hear Niall bellow from the other end of the house. “HOLY SHIT, I LOVE YOU!” All you could do was giggle and tap furiously at your phone’s keyboard as a reply.
Y/N: love you too, babe. Have fun ;)
By the next morning, you were exhausted. You figured after purging all of the diary from your system possible the night before, that sleep would come easy. But it was quite the opposite, and the fact was that there was no comforter and memory foam mattress combination that could lull you to sleep like Niall’s strong embrace could. A few hours of tossing and turning in your sleep resulted in a complete awakening in the early hours of the morning, before another forty-five minutes of sleep swept you in its arms once again. You woke up once more after the sound of your front door opening and glanced at your phone sat on the bedside table. The clock read nine in the morning, and you figured Niall had returned from an early morning run due to a lack of sleep also.
You sat up and stretched your arms out, feeling a strange feeling of fatigued refreshment from last night. Slowly, you stumbled down the hall in a tired, needy stupor into the kitchen. Niall had just finished setting the clear vase down in the middle of the kitchen island. It held tap water and a bunch of your favorite flowers. Beside it, a mountain of snacks and candy. But your eyes weren’t lingering on them for long and rather, moved to Niall’s blue eyes crowded with joy at your figure drowned in his clothes. It felt like your body could not be pressed against his tight enough when your arms locked around one another, and his nose rested against the top of your head, taking in the familiar scent of your shampoo.
“What’s all this for?” You lift your head to meet his gaze once more but remain tight in his hold. He simply shrugs and gives a small smirk.
“Gotta keep up the tradition.”
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frywen-bumbles · 4 years
Text
The Way to a Man's Heart Goes Through His... Cat? Ch2
Days 6-7: Jaskier gets some unexpected messages and looks after house plants
AO3
Master of Music.
Jaskier loves the sound of it.
What he doesn't love is the half-empty document staring at him from his laptop screen.
'Historical Facts, Recent Myths, Current Connections: The Witchers in Historical and Contemporary Music'
He has all of his research material on hand. He has read through it. Several times. But writing the actual research down isn't happening.
Gods above how much he wishes he could just compose new songs and throw his brain out of the window. He doesn't even believe in any gods but if praying will help writing to happen he's willing to try.
Roach sits on top of the bookshelf, in one of her favourite places to... stare at him. And judge. Or maybe Jaskier feels like the cat is judging him. She hasn't warmed up to him during the first week at all, all she does is stare at him whatever he does but doesn't let him close enough to touch yet alone to brush.
"You know, Roachie if you won't let me touch you soon your owner will have to shave you naked when he returns."
Roach doesn't answer.
Of course, she won't answer. He must be going bonkers. Maybe a walk will help. He doesn't hold high hopes, everything is going shite anyway, what good could one walk do?
He snaps a quick silly selfie of himself and Roach and sends it to Roach's owner, like every day. It doesn't take long for the mark to turn blue to note the message has been seen. No answer, but at this point, Jaskier is not surprised. There has been no answer in the previous days, why break the tradition now? Some people just aren't made for small talk and Jaskier isn't going to force it. Not that he'd want to see the man. No, that would be ridiculous.
He gets lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out how to put together his thesis in some sort of coherent way as he walks to the nearby park. His phone buzzes in his pocket for a new message. He digs it out, not giving it much thought expecting to see a message from Essi or Pricilla. What he sees makes him almost drop his phone in his shock.
Cat dad answered? And with a photo?
A honk makes him realise he's standing in the middle of the road like an idiot and he crosses to the other side to reach the park. Only it feels like he doesn't need to have a walk anymore, this is more excitement than he's had in the entire week.
He opens the message.
A selfie with a blonde girl and a man stare back at him. He feels like his heart will stop.
"Essi?" Jaskier has to talk to someone. He knows he shouldn't, he promised absolute confidentiality. But he will burst if he doesn't talk about this to someone. He will absolutely without a doubt die.
"What is it, Buttercup?" Essi drawls like she has all the time in the world.
"Cat dad it insanely hot!"
"Whaaat? He texted back?"
"Yes! He's off the wall hot? I can't deal with this! How am I supposed to just sit working on his desk knowing what the man looks like? He will haunt my dreams, Essi!"
"Well, spill the tea! What does he look like?"
"You know I can't tell you, just know he's the hottest dude I have ever seen, okay? I can't deal with this. How am I supposed to write academic bullshite when his picture sits on my phone and I could just... look at it whenever I want to?
"Jaskier, for fucks sake. Your thesis is already a year late. You have been promised a place in the doctoral programme. If you keep sitting on your arse with this, instead of being the brightest student at the Uni, you will fail, understand? Get your shite together and stop falling in love with every person you happen to see."
"But, Essiiii... He's really hot!"
"I know, darling. Just keep it in your pants until you've finished with your thesis. Then I give you my permission to go chase the hot cat daddy."
"Melitele forbid, Essi, you're no fun. I wasn't going to chase him! I don't even know where he is. I just can't get over the hotness, okay?"
"Mm hmm, I know you too well. Get back to work or do I need to remind you why you took up pet sitting?"
"No. I'm sorry. I'll take a small walk and then get right back to writing, I promise."
Jaskier does not get back to writing.
He stares at the picture in his phone trying to figure out how a gorgeous man like that could have such an impersonal home. The man has his hair tied back in a messy bun, revealing an undercut which tells the milky white locks are natural. Jaskier didn't know he had a thing for blonds, but he sure as hell does now.
The girl's young, maybe around ten years old, Jaskier isn't sure. Kids aren't exactly his forte, all of his friends are still firmly stuck in their studies instead of having families of their own.
The picture had been taken by the girl, the grin wide on her face suggesting taking it had been her idea. But the soft smile the man has as he looks at the girl is melting Jaskier's heart.
If only someone would look at him like that he could die happy.
A crash from upstairs startles him enough to put down his phone and look at the time. Jaskier tries and fails not to fall into despair. He has wasted another day, not a single word written and how he wishes he could just throw up all of his ideas into coherent text but it is not happening.
He closes his laptop. It's no use. Going like this he'll never graduate.
Roach stares at him from the door, covered in dust and... definitely more dust.
"I'm a mess, aren't I, Roachie?"
Roach doesn't answer. Instead, she screams and runs downstairs, expecting him to follow like a good servant. His phone buzzes for a new message and Jaskier taps it open.
<Water the plants. Remember to brush the cactus.>
Remember to what the what now? He stares at the message, trying (and failing) to ignore the image above it.
"What the fuck?" he mutters to himself as he makes his way downstairs to stare at the house plants he has given no thought at all up to this point. On the windowsill in the kitchen is a lone cactus, right next to where Roach likes to sit and look to the yard. A cactus completely covered in cat hair and Roach is happy to provide how that particular thing happened. She jumps next to the plant and rubs her head against it, leaving even more hair on the spines.
"Brush the cactus. Okay then..."
<How do I brush a cactus?>
<What the fuck Jask?>
Jaskier snaps a picture of the cactus and sends it to the group chat with Essi and Pricilla.
<How do I get rid of the hair???>
He gets no response. ... appears on the screen several times before crying laughing emojis fill the screen.
<Thanks a bunch -.- >
He goes to dig through the cabinet where he found cat things and discovers a comb.
"That'll have to do," he sighs and gets to combing the cactus, careful not to harm it. In the end, the cactus comes unharmed from the endeavour but unfortunately, Jaskier doesn't. His palm is adorned with spines he spends a good five minutes plucking out with tweezers.
<If i die bc of a cactus related infection I'm blaming you>
<omg what did you do>
<Squeezed a ball of hair in my hand but it was filled with spines from the cactus>
<lmao>
<lmao???? I'm suffering and you're laughing??? Essi, Pris is being horrible>
<it is only what you deserve>
<OMG rude!>
<kissy face emoji>
Jaskier looks up from his phone when he hears water splashing. He doesn't even want to know what toy the cat has decided to drown now but if he doesn't hurry the whole kitchen will be filled with water.
Roach is happily playing with a toy mouse dunking it in her water bowl and tossing it around, spreading water everywhere.
"Roach, please? Could you just... not do that?" Jaskier begs as he fishes the mouse out of the water bowl and puts it to dry in a cabinet. "This may come as a surprise to you but I do not enjoy mopping the floors after you." He complains as he dutifully takes kitchen towels and dries the kitchen. At least it's better than the time Roach tucked the entire kitchen rug in the water bowl while he was out.
"You are a menace," Jaskier tells Roach after he has cleaned up everything. Roach meows.
Jaskier feels like he has barely fallen asleep when he wakes up. At first, he doesn't understand what woke him, but another yowl has him wide awake. What has him jumping out of the bed and run is the sound of pumping, like someone was trying to unclog a toilet.
"Roach you bastard, where are you? Please don't throw up on a carpet!!" Jaskier tries to find the cat based on the noise, stumbling in the dark. To his horror, the noise is coming from the second floor, where he was absolutely forbidden to go.
"Roaaaaach...!" he whines and makes his way up the stairs.
The view that awaits him when he flips the light on is totally unexpected. It is so unexpected Jaskier has to pinch himself to believe he's actually standing in a real room.
It is, and really the only way to describe it is every little girl's dream room. The room spans the entire second floor, ceiling low on the sides showing it was renovated from an attic, pinks, purples and blues adorning the furnishing.
And right on the middle of the white rug is the vomit.
"Fuck."
Jaskier collects the rug and carries it in the bathroom and spends an ungodly amount of time washing it, hoping against all the odds, the stain would leave.
It doesn't.
Come morning and Jaskier is sure it's all been a weird dream. Unfortunately for him, the stained rug awaits him in the bathroom when he goes to brush his teeth and he groans in frustration.
Roach meows at the closed door and scratches it until he lets her in so she can stare at him. Jaskier sighs and snaps a quick selfie, hair mussed and toothbrush still in his mouth and sends it. No need to prolong it, now he can hopefully focus on writing.
He's drinking his third cup of tea when his phone buzzes for a new message.
<Roach's hair is as messy as yours>
Jaskier stares at the message, sent from an unknown number.
<Who is this?>
<Youre looking after daddys cat>
<You're the girl! From the picture!> <I'm Julian but you can call me Jaskier> <Wait you shouldn't text strange men does your dad know you've texted me?>
<You're not strange you just told me your name> <I'm bored daddy went out with grandpa and im left with uncle> <Hes no fun> <I'm Fiona>
<Hello Fiona, it's nice to meet you>
Jaskier doesn't know what else he's supposed to say. How does one talk with children? Just like normal people? Right?
Wait!
Jaskier comes to a sudden realisation; now he has the perfect opportunity to ask cheat codes for Roach to get the cat to, well maybe not like him but to tolerate him.
<How do I brush Roach? She doesn't let me near her>
The screen fills with laughing emojis earning a sigh from Jaskier. No help then.
<Give her cheese> <Shes crazy about it but only gets it after shes brushed>
Of course, why hasn't he thought to give the cat cheese? Maybe because it doesn't make any sense. Who gives cat cheese when there are perfectly good cat treats available?
Nothing else about this makes any sense either and since writing isn't happening nor is Fiona texting anything else he makes his way to the fridge and digs out a block of cheese and cuts a piece.
Roach runs at him screaming. She thrills and screams and rubs herself against the drawer where all of her brushes are.
Roach doesn't purr when he combs through her fur, but feeding her bits of cheese every time she gets too annoyed helps and like a miracle Jaskier manages to brush a cat-sized pile of loose fur to show for his efforts. He gives Roach the last piece when he has finished and tries to pet her, but she sprints away from him with an annoyed meow.
Maybe Roach doesn't hate him as much as he thought after all.
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army-of-mai-lovers · 3 years
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hello arthur!! tbh people are being terrible in your inbox and the last ask killed my brain cells so this is your free bingo card to talk about anything you like. also sometimes googling sharks with human teeth (exactly what it sounds like) helps!! much love <3
oh my gosh I’m OBSESSED with these photos they’re so cute!!!! and thank you for the bingo card Effie I appreciate it so much. I’m gonna rant about Deadly Class (a show I definitely don’t like and thus don’t run a fan blog for....smh) bc it’s on my mind and it looks like it’s just going to go quietly into that good night instead of being made fun of and dissected and I think that should change bc goodness gracious that show does not deserve a dignified death. also I’m gonna put this rant under a readmore bc this is gonna be long and it has nothing to do w atla. warnings for discussions of racism, callous mentions of murder and death, swearing, discussion of Nazis, discussion of gore, abuse ment
Okay so for those not in the know (which is probably everyone considering the show was on Syfy and it’s being canceled due to low viewership) Deadly Class is a teen murder drama set in the late ‘80s starring Lana Condor, which makes it sound like it was engineered in a lab to appeal to me. Literally my friend and I were in the middle of watching Schitt’s Creek, which I adore, and she was like “well I heard about this show called Deadly Class” and described it and I was like fuck Schitt’s Creek we’re watching this. It had a 64% on Rotten Tomatoes, which usually makes me nervous, but I was literally like “I don’t care because I know I’m going to love it.” 
And well. I did not love it. 
I truly do not understand how one fucks up “teenagers (mostly) of color go to murder boarding school in the late ‘80s” that bad (I mean the Russo brothers are involved and they fuck up everything they touch so perhaps it was just that). I haven’t read the comic the show is based on but it does appear that a *lot* of the issues of the show stem from the comic, which is...disappointing. Basically, our MC, Marcus, starts off the show homeless after his group home burned down (and it’s heavily implied that he was the one to do it) and gets hunted down by these elite teenage murderers who invite them to their murder school. 
Already, numerous problems are starting to show themselves. First of all, Marcus is Latino, which, yes, it’s very cool that the MC is Latino, except he is literally the white-passingest man I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’ve seen my dad. I didn’t realize that he was Latino until they showed his extremely stupid backstory in a shitty animated sequence and whoever was voicing his dad did this really, really thick Nicaraguan accent and I was like wait a damn minute. So then, I looked it up, and the guy playing Marcus is named Benjamin Wadsworth, which immediately made me think that they had pulled a Noah Centineo and made me think this fully white actor was half Latino (and yes, Latinos can be white, but I think Marcus is supposed to be a nonwhite Latino, and I thought Benjamin Wadsworth was both white and non-Latino). But you know, as an light skinned ethnically ambiguous mixed kid myself, I thought I owed it to him to dig a little deeper, and turns out our pal Ben is mixed (also, he’s like six months older than me and married, which is a trip). And like, okay, I guess I’m glad they didn’t get a white non-Latino man to play a Latino character, but they literally got the whitest looking Latino they could think of to play him. He originally auditioned for Billy. Billy’s the token white. And the producers were like “wait you have Latino ancestry?” (how they found that out I don’t fucking know) and let him go for Marcus. And like. Okay. The character in the comics is light-skinned but he does not look white, and Benjamin is not a good enough actor for them to just pass on the actors who surely auditioned for that role and were more visibly Latino but like. Okay, I guess. 
Second of all, this show is mega racist and it starts to reveal itself when you look at how the murder kids are styled in literally their first appearance. What struck me the most was the fact that the Latina (whose name is fucking Maria, for heaven’s sake) was wearing a sexy red dress and Day of the Dead makeup, which, I’m sorry, huh? That just so happens to be the Mexican girl’s murder outfit? I’ve tried to give them the benefit of the doubt and speculate that maybe she wears it to like, subvert people’s expectations, but at this point idk how this is subverting anyone’s expectations nor why she’d be so invested in that. Also, she’s supposed to be a teenager. It’s fucked up to sexualize any of your child characters but it really hits different when it’s your Latina character (and yeah, I know the actress playing Maria isn’t a teenager, but still, it’s the principle of the thing). And then of course, the Black guy, Willie (no he’s not related to Billy they were just like yeah two guys with rhyming names in our main cast sounds legit) is a gangbanger dude who talks the way that white people think Black people talk. I keep waiting for this guy to have one line that’s not complete garbage, but I’m five episodes deep and so far nada, which sucks so bad because there’s like, kernels of an interesting character buried in this horrible racist trope. Also, they had him sleep with a N*zi. I hate it here. Lana Condor (her character’s name is Saya) gets off fairly okay, at least in this first shot (they don’t have her wearing a kimono to go murder people, thank fuck), but the way she behaves is super weird, like kinda flirty towards Marcus, kinda badass but not enough to actually do anything, etc. Billy’s white so they couldn’t make him a racist caricature or anything but I have no idea why he’s here. See, instead of talking about the real politics of the real world, Deadly Class makes up fake prejudice that honestly makes the lok bender/nonbender bullshit look sensible. Maria, Willie, and Saya are Legacies, which means that their families are established murderers (fun fact: the N*zi girl is also a Legacy, because her father murdered hundreds of civil rights activists. And the characters of color align themselves with her. I don’t understand.) Billy, and later Marcus when he decides to go to murder school, are Rats, meaning they have no affiliation with established murder groups. So, in this show, the people of color have privilege over the (mostly white) Rats. Make it make sense. Further, this means that Maria, Saya, and Willie should have absolutely no reason to hang out with Billy, and yet they do because the Russo brothers have heard that the kids these days like the found family trope, so they put five unlikely friends in a room together and insinuated that they could all be besties. I swear, this show is the La Croix of found family tho, in that there is absolutely no flavor whatsoever. None of the characters develop into a found family. Saya is bound to care for Marcus for reasons, Maria is using him, Willie is also using him, and Billy is only his friend because they’re both Rats. Saya and Maria are already friends (and honestly their friendship is the most compelling thing in the whole show). There are no other connections between the characters. But they’re totes a found family!!!!/s
Also, they don’t let Saya be mean. Every character says “oh Saya’s such a bitch” but do we ever see Saya being a bitch??? No! Saya is literally just a nice girl who is kinda quiet sometimes and murders people and has a tragic backstory. There’s an argument to be made for Maria being more bitchy than her tbh. And like, fine, if you want Saya to be nice, she can be nice, but stop telling me she’s mean then!!! If you’re gonna tell me that I’m gonna get to see mean Lana Condor in a leather jacket in this show then deliver bitch. 
There’s truly so much more I could talk about (Chico??? What the fuck is Chico’s arc???? What in the actual hell were they thinking when they were writing anything to do with Chico????? my DUDES WHAT IN THE SAM HELL. also making Billy straight was so fucking stupid he’s literally gay come on now, also Master Lin is so fucking useless what is he even doing here) but instead I’m going to outline the version of Deadly Class my friend and I have been talking about while we watch the inferior real Deadly Class. 
lots of things are the same actually because there are some elements of the show that have potential. Marcus is still homeless at the beginning, everybody still thinks he burned down the group home but he didn’t, Willie is still a pacifist, he and Marcus are still partners for their first murder school assignment, Saya’s mean (but like actually), Billy still has green hair and is the token white of the group (although a Billy of color.....thinking), and they all hate Reagan
in an ideal world Willie and Maria would have different names (Willie bc his name rhymes with Billy’s and that’s fucking stupid, also Willie is just a terrible name in general, Maria partially because it sounds way too similar to Marcus and I don’t understand why the guy who wrote this couldn’t make his characters have different sounding names, and partially because no Latina character of mine is going to be named fucking Maria), but for the purposes of this outline I’ll keep their names the same for clarity.
Marcus doesn’t initially have his rep. He’s on the streets when he sees a girl his age (Saya) come out of this elevator in the back of a restaurant brandishing a sword, and decides to go into the elevator, sees the stash of weapons, and decides to steal one so he can fend for himself better. 
also keeping the detail of Rory murdering a bunch of homeless kids, but now Marcus knows that Rory is actively hunting him down. 
in the process of robbing the school’s weapons collection, Marcus figures out that it’s a murder school
Master Lin catches Marcus robbing the school, they fight, Master Lin overpowers Marcus and ties him up. He says the weapons are for students only, and Marcus says he’s applying. Lin asks what his qualifications are, and Marcus says “you know that group home that burned down three months ago? all the kids that died? I started the fire.” 
(also no shade to Benjamin Wadsworth but in this version he is not playing Marcus. Marcus is not white-passing)
Master Lin initially doesn’t believe him, but Marcus presses on and eventually convinces Master Lin that this is really what happened, and so Lin welcomes him to murder school. 
Marcus’s first class is Poisons, and his lab partner is Billy, who takes a shine to him and shows him around school. There’s no Legacy/Rat nonsense, but you do have normal high school drama adapted slightly for murder school. Maria is the prettiest and most popular girl in school, Saya is the mean girl/valedictorian, Willie is the jock, and Billy’s the punky weirdo. 
Marcus is, of course, the new kid with a reputation to live up to. 
Things kind of fall apart when Willie and Marcus are paired up for an assignment: to seek revenge on somebody. 
also Willie’s backstory is extremely different. his dad was a Black Panther, and he was murdered by the FBI when Willie was a kid. distraught, his mom moved to Texas, where she started working a corporate job and rose really high in the ranks. To maintain her status in the company, she had to do some really horrible things, including working with the FBI to take down other civil rights activists. Willie found out about this and was absolutely horrified. his mother insisted she was doing this so that he could have a better life, but he refused to listen to her, and ran away, and ended up at murder school. 
Willie got into murder school because Lin knows who his mom is, and assumes that Willie is just as cutthroat as she is. he gains a reputation as well. 
also, Willie’s extremely wealthy, and this shows in the way he dresses (preppy jock vibes)
you don’t find out about this backstory for a minute tho bc unlike Albert Kim and the Russo Brothers, I can wait until the right opportunity presents itself for a backstory drop. 
ok anyway back to what I was saying earlier
they have to seek revenge on somebody. Marcus asks Willie if there’s anybody he wants revenge on, and Willie very sincerely says no. Marcus scoffs at him and says he’s clearly had a very easy life, to which Willie replies, “Well, who do you want revenge on?” 
Marcus immediately says, “Rory.” 
So they track Rory down, and since Marcus hasn’t actually killed anybody, he hands the weapons over to Willie. Willie frowns and says that he has nothing against this dude he’s never met before, so Marcus should be the one to hurt him. Marcus says that this is a group project and Willie’s got to pull his weight, and they get into an argument
the argument gets loud, and Rory hears them fighting and starts chasing them. 
in the midst of the chase, both of them divulge their secrets to one another. Willie laughs hysterically and says that they deserve each other bc they both lied to get where they are, and now they’re going to die because of it
Rory backs them into a corner, and Marcus uses one of the swords he tried to steal earlier to shank Rory
They throw the body in a dumpster, and after this, they’re friends, and Marcus decides he’ll fit right in at murder school. 
ok so that was only one episode but things to look forward to in the version of Deadly Class that only exists in me and my friend’s heads: Marcus dealing with the emotional and moral fallout of his first murder, Willie trying to figure out what it means to be a pacifist in a world so hellbent on doing violence towards him, Saya being mean to everyone except Maria, Maria convincing Saya to relax and have fun, the gang bonding in a Breakfast Club style situation adapted for murder school and making a joke about how this is like the Breakfast Club because it’s the 80s and the movie just came out, Saya and Maria falling in lesbians, Marcus and Saya being depressing edgelord besties, Billy being gay and fighting his abusive father, Marcus and Billy being uncool weirdo bffs, Willie and Maria rolling their eyes at Marcus and Saya’s cynicism, Billy coming out to Marcus and talking about his experiences being gay, which makes Marcus think “hang on, why do I relate to that?”, Willie seeing Marcus make a sarcastic comment about kissing a guy and having a crisis, Marcus and Willie falling in love, the gang taking a road trip to Vegas to murder Billy’s dad and giving Billy a gnc thrift store makeover on the way, and eventually the gang murdering the shit out of Ronald Reagan. 
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as a classic cats fan what did you think of the 2019 movie?
FOREWARD: i have full respect to those who enjoyed CATS 2019 and show their support and engage in that part of the fandom. rock on. very truly, honestly, sincerely, i hope you have a blast and create and share and have the best of times. welcome to the fandom, it’s great to have you here; thank you for joining us and i really, really do mean that from the bottom of my heart and soul. it really makes me happy that CATS has become something good for you like it is, and has been, for so many of us. i’m ecstatic to see the fandom expanding and i’m so very serious about that.
unfortunately this is the time to jump ship if you don’t want to hear any more complaints about it. thank you and ilu all and once again, welcome to the fold, i love that you’re joining us and y’all being here honey butters my toast xoxo
there was a 2019 movie?
runs hands down face
from the very first sneeze of an idea of doing a CATS movie went around being speculated in what.. 2012?? i have been against it because i knew it wouldn’t be done right. what i really wanted, really hoped for, what the fandom very honestly deserves and STILL does to this day and beyond is another honest, no dances cut, full on professionally shot video of the stage production again.
i’m still putting my hand to the cold glass and pulling my thin shawl around my shoulders as i gaze past the rain blurring the dreary world outside and sighing a tremendous, weary sigh because Hamilton is getting a full professionally-shot stage movie...... and CATS likely won’t ever.. and how cruel that is.
(not hatin on Hamilton, btw; im just old and bitter LOL i have zero hard feelings towards Hamilton and honestly good for them for getting that done, they deserve it)
so...... listen. i appreciate the thought and commitment to making a CATS movie. i think the biggest thing that busted my balls about it was the use and execution of the CGI cat people. ofc this is a big thing in a lot of opinions. but i’ve always been sitting here like....... 
there are... decades of fanart. decades of productions and photos and costume design. but the fan. art. did anyone go in and look at it? artists have been drawing these characters a wide variety of ways, but when it boils down to the anthropomorphic take on it, i thought it was pretty damn clear how good it could look. i feel like they should have been diggin in the CATS art trenches all this time, all these years, and really taken all these artistic interpretations very seriously to heart. 
it felt like a slap in the face when they overhauled nearly everyone’s design/look to the point where i don’t even know who i’m looking at. and listen, i’m here for redesigns, don’t get me wrong. i dug Jason Derulo’s Tugger design. i dug Idris Elba’s Macavity base idea because he was made a shorthair and clearly all source material says otherwise? and where’s the ginger, mate?? 
(NOTE: in the b’way revival the new Macavity costume is easily 99% black in contrast to the original design in which the costume was 95% red and orange. stark difference. “Macavity’s a ginger cat” contradicts the revival costume a bit since, again, it’s largely black. so in its defense, the costume’s red/orange accents are well placed and the black pays more tribute to the “very tall and thin” aspect he’s supposed to have. (the old costume was wild and hairy, it kinda puffed him out a bit, esp with the much fuller and taller wig.) the revival wig is more on par with main wigs, and it has that coppery color, the makeup is simplistic (as it needs to be added on to Plato) and the color use FOR base Plato brings out the red and etc etc etc. i like the revival costume; it didn’t go overboard on the reds and oranges, it was sleek and powerful, and oh my god you’ve got fingergless gloves with fucking fringe there is a MANE wiht FRINGE who designed that bc i gotta kiss em and offer a piece of my heart and soul)
everything felt muddled, disorganized, foreign, and god why did we do Jennyanydots that why please why are the cockroaches people please are you all ok in production? blink twice if you need help
oh yeah and the fat jokes. i think we were supposed to be getting over that but ok
very interesting thing with Macavity kidnapping the potentials. kinda dug that. fuck it up, Skimbleshanks
and speaking of fuckin Skimbleshanks you have no idea how much of my shit i lost when he started the tap number. i was over the MOON. GOOD shit, FUCK yeah, GO OFF and it was brilliant, absolutely beautiful
ALSO when i heard Judi Dench was gonna be in it i was really hopeful she’d finally play Grizabella. what a fucking treat that would’ve been. she was set to debut the role in the West End, then she tore her Achilles, so Elaine Page replaced her and the rest was history. i’ve really wanted to hear/see her Grizabella. :(
(and briefly on the topic of Grizabella i’m kinda not here for the trend of younger actresses in the role just hhhhhhhh kinda takes away and misplaces her whole vibe and story imo)
i just.. i didn’t understand some of the plot changes like how Macavity was up in everyone’s bs tryna force himself up to the Heavyside Layer, it was silly, and yeah i shouldn’t take CATS so seriously even with the longtime fan background but 
gestures helplessly
y’all fr?? 
there were a lot of super questionable decisions across the board and all that has already been gone over by so many people a dozen billion times. on one hand, i’m glad CATS got some exposure. on the other, :( not like this
however, on a very good note (other than skimbleshanks bless him): let me tell you how EXCITED i was that they used the original Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer arrangement. what a fucking pleasant surprise. HELL yeah. i LOVE that arrangement and i’m tickled to pieces that it was chosen.  good shit. good shit.
tbh as Serious and Bruh Calm Down this might all sound, it’s honestly no skin off my teeth. it’s a frustration, sure. i’m so very tired.  i’m disappointed. i didn’t have any specific expectations about it, just a lot of hopes. maybe too many hopes.
being a longtime CATS fan i know as well or even better than other people what a fucking dumpster fire the show is LMAO it’s wild and it’s ridiculous and god it doesn’t make any sense, it has a plot and it has no plot and everything about it is so horny and it’s the greatest fucking thing to ever happen to me
i obviously have a lot of feelings and history with CATS, and 2019 did not “ruin” anything for me, it didn’t “taint” anything about it, despite everything i’ve complained about i don’t consider myself a purist. (ok. except about the revival choreography. some things are more sacred than the vatican.)
i don’t dig 2019 as a whole. i don’t want to completely disregard it. there are bits and pieces i did like and that i can appreciate. i wish it wasn’t done that way. i just wish we had gotten a true blue professionally shot, no dances cut, honest portrayal of the stage production. 
but hey it is what it is. at the bottom of it all i’m just glad there are new people coming in and taking a look around. it’s nice to see a resurgence of the fandom. it feels really good to see more people here and loving it. i missed CATS and the CATS community. it feels so good to be home.
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5sosbitchfest · 4 years
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Reactions to Luke’s IG Story 6/14/2020
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I hate her as much as the next person but bi people in straight relationships are still bi
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I call bullshit on Messy being bi. Sorry, if she was bi, why didn't she come out earlier? Her 'haters'? Where? Also, Luke needs to learn the difference between supporting Pride and celebrating it while PR dating a fake ass 'bi' woman.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I also don’t think it’s fair to say Sierra has never been in a same sex relationship we really don’t know who she’s dated. This is a big problem in the LGBT community, when a bi woman is in a relationship with a man her bi identity gets erased. Halsey has actually talked about this a lot. While I agree that Lierra is not a queer couple, that does not erase Sierra’s identity as a queer woman, and pride is absolutely still for her to celebrate too 🌈
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: *i understand that it was Luke’s post but obviously she had input to post it.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Does Messy’s journey of her sexuality excuse her transphobia? Bc I don’t think so. She sure is selective about who and what she celebrates then. She posted that picture for attention, like everything else she does. It sounds harsh and if she wants to share her journey then great but let’s recognize and call it out for what it is. She doesn’t need to have Luke in a post to talk about her sexuality. Happy Pride Month to that person she purposely misgendered and attempted to invalidate.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: It’s not about disliking Sierra anon. She has only officially came out in a reply on twitter that she later deleted. That’s the only time it’s been mentioned. People struggle to come out and she tweeted and deleted it as if she actually wasn’t saying it. And now her boyfriend is the one essentially coming out for her? That’s what the issue is anon she has never openly said she was bisexual and now that it’s pride month she is? This is just the first time it’s being brought up& it wasn’t even her
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I don’t care that Luke posted good on him but him posting something for pride halfway through the month makes the other boys look inconsiderate for not posting anything
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I'm the anon that said the thing about "lets not make this into a mikey situation" I agree that it was a complete distraction tactic, and I also can not stand Sierra I was just trying saying that even with those two things in mind the post isnt harming anyone and so we shouldn't get mad at luke for making it.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I hate to admit it but I don't see Lierra ending anywhere near soon. Yes, couples don't last forever and still I don't think they will but let's be honest, he cares about her. Idk how things are in their life, and I hope he's happy, but I think she will stay around for this year and maybe a bit of 2021. 🙄
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Okey but was the "biracial" necessary? It made me cringe...
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I know luke can be cringy when it comes to Sierra but cmon haven’t we learn by now all the cringy stuff if from Sierra being on his account lol
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Sierra wrote that ... no caps, her grammar, fave chosen emojis etc totes her 10000000000% although glad acknowledging bisexual biracial but Angel? Angel by day and to stans but I thought she was the “late night devil”
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Something about Luke’s ig story doesn’t sit well with me... the fact that he felt the need to state that she’s biracial and bisexual just makes it look like he’s treating her like some kind of a trophy to show off, idk it just doesn’t feel right
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Why do L and S feel the need to make everything about S? This isn't about you, so shut up and actually get a job.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: “beautiful bisexual biracial angel” i’m gagging and laughing so hard yeah he 100% wrote and posted that himself /sarcasm
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I love luke and I'm happy if he's happy but the way Sierra clings to him in that photo is so gross. It really just feels like she's using him to do her dirty work. Like that post didnt feel genuine at all and it really seems like luke isnt even trying to convince us anymore he just does the bare minimum to make her happy. I dont blame him tho. Just feels icky.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: As a straight person, I hate straight couples and hope to never be cringe.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I'm sorry but that Instagram story that luke posted talking about his "beautiful bisexual biracial angel🥰🥺" does NOT (capitalize, underline and bold) sound like how luke would type something. The first part where he talks about how far we have to go sounds like him but not that that part.. not even close. Want to bet either sierra typed it, gave him the idea to say that OR did both cause we know she monitors him like crazy
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: "Bisexual biracial" is so unnecesarry. Luke, hon, shut up. People are out here fighting for their rights, and you feel the need and have the audacity to make it about your crazy ass girlfriend? Don't get me wrong, I love the boys, but making every fcking thing about your girlfriend-particularly luke- is not the point of these movements. So stfu Luke, stfu Sierra, stop making everything about S. That pisses me off, sorry I just needed to rant somewhere.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: is it just me or does the whole “beautiful bisexual biracial angel” not sound like him or something he’d say??? idk I’m kinda new to the fandom but it felt cringey reading that come from him
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Did you see what luke posted on his story? Seems him and Sierra are getting along great, smh. Also she's confirmed bi as well I guess. That's cool. Hope she doesnt use it as a weapon to defend criticism tho. Also did luke redo his hair cuz it seems very white again. Idk. Seems fishy. What are your thoughts? Do you think he was told to post that to distract from mike?
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: just when I was starting to forgive luke for his “response” to messy’s MESS, he goes and posts this... I’m TIRED
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: ok but as a lesbian it makes me sooo happy that Luke is celebrating pride and he's supportive of her sexuality 🥺 men never take bisexuality seriously and I love that he respects that. YET as someone who doesn't like s I'm like why....... like this week has been so frustrating and we were all like "they don't defend m bc they're in a sm break" and now he comes to post this and doesn't say anything? i just :(
allisonscarlett said to 5sosbitchfest: Honestly pride month came just in time cause I remember some stans saying that sierra is probably not bisexual and now there's luke insta story. I'm not trying to erase anyone's sexual orientation, I'm bisexual myself and I've found it weird that in the past years sierra didn't anything about her sexuality during pride month (and don't remember when she tweeted about being bi but I don't thing that it was in during pride month)
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: is anyone else getting"i can't be racist/homophobic because my gf is biracial and bisexual" vibes from lukes ig story or is it just me??? does he know he's digging a hole???
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: should we assume luke posted that in response to the insiders muke information? interesting timing on his part
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I honestly can't stand Luke rn. Angel? Angel???? ANGELLL????????????
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Okay but I don't think that counts as a "a straight couple thinking pride is theirs to celebrate". Just cause Sierra is in a straight relationship doesn't take away from the fact that she's bi, or mean she can't celebrate pride. And I think Luke wishing her and everyone a happy pride is actually a really supportive thing for him and again doesn't really count as a straight person thinking pride is theirs to celebrate, because he's focusing on her, not himself.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: “my beautiful biracial angel” i hate it here
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Gonna say something to MAYBE make some people happy. That picture was taken at a PROTEST. So they probably aren't together 😂😂 they were just together for the protest
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: The biracial part of his story post is feeding into him being a king for dating a mixed person
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: ok luke did look very cute tho
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Every single time there’s any drama in the fandom, a new “cute” picture pops up and some people really think that’s goals? Like in what world is now the time for that kind of post, if it isn’t a direct pr response to the twitter mess of the past few days? Smh they’re not even trying to be subtle anymore
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: i think it’s fine for straight couples to go to and celebrate pride when one of them or both of them aren’t straight.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I was reading this blog a few hours ago and I read a post where someone said that everyone basically assumed sierra was bi bc of a comment and now Luke comes out calling her "bisexual" as if he was confirming it...Idk felt weird lol
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest:  Bisexual biracial angel😭😭 who made him write that and thought people will take it seriously
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: have you seen luke’s story? “especially to my bisexual biracial girlfriend” i fucking CACKLED like is it how she’s supposed to be known for?
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: thank you luke for that ig post for it will keep messy ass kissers away from m mentions for a while
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Funny how you just brought up everyone saying that Sierra was bi just cause she said she loved men and woman and woopty do guess what luke put on his insta story. “My beautiful bisexual biracial gf” Luke I love you but 🤢
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angelaiswriting · 5 years
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Shelbys | Tommy Shelby & sister!reader
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[Photo by Henry & Co. from Pexels]
✏️ Pairing: none/Tommy Shelby and sister!reader
✏️ Summary: Sometimes, having a sister is hard. (Requested by Anonymous)
✏️ A/N: look at me using a cliché summary bc I don’t know how else to word it :) jokes aside, I truly hope you’ll enjoy this 💛 Requests close tonight (Sept. 30) at 23:59 UTC+2!
✏️ Beta-read by @sweetvengeancee
✏️ Warnings: kinda angsty ?
✏️ Word-count: 1,866
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Sometimes the mere thought felt foreign even to Tommy’s mind and yet, it was true: there were far more dangerous things than his baby sister. There had been Kimber and his men, Sabini and his wops right after, and he had just got out half-defeated, if so one wanted to see John’s death, from a vendetta with Luca Changretta – those were dangerous people. Criminals of the worst sort, with bloodied hands and rotten souls – or that’s what they were, to put it with Linda’s words.
Y/N was… nothing compared to them, and yet, at the threshold of her eighteenth birthday, she managed to make her older brother want to reconsider his list of priorities.
To the untrained eye, she could pass just as Finn’s sister and not his twin, but those that had grown up with her knew what she was capable of. Pissing her two oldest brothers off – one of the points in the manual that should have come with her – was just the tip of the iceberg.
“D’you want to tell me what happened?” he groaned. If he looked at her – if he looked at her even just for one second – in the eye, he knew he wouldn’t get out of his office with the winning hand.
Instead, he focused on her trousers stained by mud and on her bloodied white striped shirt – both items she had more than likely stolen from Finn’s wardrobe. And the more his brows furrowed, the more he wondered how in hell she and Ada were sisters. How one had ended up in a nice Londoner house, with tailored clothes and high morals, and the other had remained trapped in Small Heath’s quicksands, with her teeth bared and her hands wrapped in tight fists.
Sometimes he thought he and Arthur had failed her upbringing, sometimes he thought that had just been her – and their – fate, for not even feared aunt Polly had managed to tame her while her brothers had been losing their sanity in France. She was a wilder spirit than the one all of theirs combined could form – untamable, temerarious, always fighting for what she deemed right – or what she deemed right in a particular moment – without fear of the consequences.
“Oi.” The syllable came out fainter than he had intended it to, but still sterner than he had thought himself capable of when it came to her – and to the fact that he had lost all hopes of turning her into the lady he had always thought she could one day be. “Y/N.”
The smirk that had already been plastered on her face forced a shiver to crawl down his spine the moment his eyes met it. Cold, almost crazy, with one corner of her mouth set higher than the other, she appeared scarier than any of his enemies. And her eyes… It was like staring at some demonic beast – sparkling, lively eyes, the pupil as tight as a pinhead in the office drowning in the daylight.
Tommy found himself unable to look away.
“I asked you a question, young lady.”
Her cackle seemed to ring in the air as it chilled the atmosphere of the room. It seemed to scratch at his eardrums like a cat and when she settled better against the back of the armchair she was sitting in, he wondered why the fuck Arthur had sent her to him and not to Pol.
“You haven’t called me ‘young lady’ in forever, Tom,” she laughed, voice as sweet as honey as all the rebellion boiling in her veins seemed to evaporate. “It never worked back then, what makes you think it’ll work now?” A pause, and then those much-hated words, for she knew nothing about their dick of a father: “You’re not dad.”
She always said those words with defiance in her eyes and in the tone of her voice. Her head always tilted up higher, her shoulders squared, and her grin opened wider to show her teeth. Bloodied, he noticed, but refrained himself from asking why, exactly, she had blood in her mouth.
“I might not be him,” he started slowly, voice low and deep, eyes burning as they remained trained on hers, “but I can still bend you over my knee and spank you like we did when you were a kid.”
She seemed to freeze for a moment as his words registered in her mind. Her gaze seemed to narrow, focusing on his eyes and his face to try and understand whether his were empty threats, and when she only found stoic determination, Tommy saw her swallow hard.
A smile stretched on his tired face when he realized she wasn’t going to bite back again and he allowed himself to relax against the seatback of his own office chair. “Good, let’s try again, then.” He took a drag from his cigarette and drew out the silence a little longer in the hopes that his sister would pick up on his serious mood. “What happened?”
The girl bit the nail of her thumb and for a moment – a brief moment Tommy Shelby still welcomed as a victory anyway –, she looked away. She shrugged her shoulders, then, eyes still trained on the library to his right. No shadows on her face, she looked younger than ever and for once - innocent. It was such a weird sight, for innocence boiled inside her like molten lava, fighting to become something more and yet, always failing, never solidifying.
She stuck out like a sore thumb. It had always been their thing – hers and Finn’s. Too young, too innocent, purer than he and the rest of his siblings had ever been. Even Ada had had the habit of chasing rats with a revolver in her right hand, but Y/N had never had that nature.
Too similar to their mum, or so Tommy found himself thinking of her more often than not. Even when she rebelled, it never was in a Shelby way. It was something typically hers, something he still had to understand – something he hadn’t managed to save her from. She had always looked up to them – to him and John and Arthur, a little less to Ada –, had always wanted to be their equal, to be part of the business – and it had never mattered that Pol had always tried to make a well-behaved woman out of her, for it had never worked.
“Did you dress up again?” he asked when she didn’t speak. He pointed an accusing finger to her clothes – there was no need to, though, she knew what he was talking about.
“Aye.”
“Did you catch his fists?”
She shrugged. “And he caught mine.” Fearless defiance in her eyes – Tommy knew that would be her demise one day.
“Jesus Christ, Y/N, we’ve fucking talked about this!” He regretted putting out his cigarette the moment the burning tip met the cold crystal of the ashtray.
“No, you have talked about this,” she retorted. She was calm, steady, always looking at him, never breaking eye contact. “And I listened, that day. Doesn’t mean I did what you wanted me to. Why does Finn get to cut and I have to stay behind, brewing tea with Polly and listening to whatever bat-shit crazy bullshit Linda says?”
“Because-”
“I am not John!” Her yell startled both of them and just outside the door of Tommy’s office, both heard Arthur’s muffled fuck.
They stared at each other, crazed eyes boring into crazed eyes as the air seemed to boil.
“I am not John.” She repeated those words once, voice much quieter but just as cold. “I am not dead, don’t treat me like I was.”
“You will end up dead if you don’t learn how to behave.”
She looked at him, exhaled loudly from her nose as her face contorted into a grimace. “I will end up dead if you keep on treating me like I was a child. Who did you call to snitch for you and give you intel about those boys up in the north? Who did Arthur send to London with one of your boys to keep an eye on your enemies at that soirée? If I’m not mistaken, Ada brought me to the tailor to get an evening dress to wear at that party. And now me, roughing up some fucking douche for the shit he said he’d do to me in an alley is the problem? That’s how I get killed?”
Tommy bit the bullet – even swallowed it to stop himself from making things worse.
“Eh, Tom? Tell me: is this how I die? By teaching a boy a lesson with Isaiah covering my back? Or do I have greater chances of ending up in my fucking grave the next time you send me to do your dirty job? Will Sabini or one of his men recognise me the next time you send me to London? Will they kill me?” She was leaning forward on her chair, her nails digging into the cushioned armrests as she stared at him, trying to pull an answer out of him with the sheer intensity of her gaze.
The clock on the mantelpiece ticked the seconds away as he kept silent.
He didn’t know if Arthur was still outside his office, for after that quiet fuck, he hadn’t managed to pick up any other sound. It was a split-moment thought, but he found himself wishing his brother was still out there, eavesdropping on his conversation with his sister.
“That’s different,” he eventually replied. Tense in his chair, he stared as Y/N rolled her eyes and let herself fall back against the seatback. “You’re never alone when I send you somewhere.”
“I was, in Liverpool,” she retorted. “I was alone there. You didn’t give me back-up, you didn’t have any spy other than me, there.”
“Liverpool was safe.”
“Was it, though, Tom?” she insisted. “Was it really safe?”
“You were safe in London.”
Her laughter chilled him to the bone. “You sent me there with that Eddie you took in two months before that night. And he doesn’t even know how to aim a gun to this day!”
Another bullet – another bite. Enemy fire, that’s how it felt. Enemy fire in an open field, under a burning sun – and he knew she was right.
“How did you go from skipping school and kissing boys to clobbering people?” The question came out quiet, almost shy in the silence of his office. Lost in his thoughts, Tommy probably hadn’t even meant to truly give it a voice.
“Gradually,” she answered. “And I still do that – I skip church days when Pol wants me to go with her and I still kiss boys. But it was you, Tom: you taught me how to dress up as Finn, you taught me how to shoot a gun. And Arthur showed me how to throw a punch to defend myself.”
“It was never meant to end like this.”
“We are Shelbys, Tommy. How else was it meant to end?”
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I am not super proud of this, but feedback is always welcome (it’ll help me improve) ❤️
TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask)
Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892  @mblaqgi​ @becs-bunker
Peaky Blinders: @whimsylavender​ @thethyri​ @friendleyneighbourhoodvillain  @flowers-in-your-hayr @oddsnendsfanfics @medievalfangirl @inforapound @niamhmaria
People that might be interested: @kellydixon01 @kind-wolf
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adolanables · 5 years
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INLFUENCED - PART 3 (GD)
A/N: Sorry again about the spacing I really don’t know why that’s happening... I’m on mobile bc my laptop is RIPed so no keep reading. Sorry !!!
The rest of your evening was spent wondering how badly you’d embarrassed yourself at the party, slowly losing the effects of the champagne. Honestly, you barely remembered anyone you’d met –your attention firmly on Grayson for most of the night. You were still a bit unsettled at all of the beautiful women he was constantly around –it was intimidating. He could have anyone he wanted –at least you thought so. Charlotte had made it pretty obvious that the twins’ skills with the ladies were a bit lack-luster. Something you actually appreciated. It wasn’t normal for 19 year olds to be absolute gods with dating or anything related.
You smiled softly to yourself as you washed the remaining makeup off of your face in your sink. He was so painfully awkward trying to flirt with you. Maybe he just hadn’t been as into you the first few times he met you, because tonight was the first time you noticed how BAD it was.
*sorry again about the cupcake : (*
Your phone lit up with a message from the man of the hour, a small giggle leaving your lips.*sorry for getting drunk : )* you shot back, letting him know the cupcake really wasn’t a concern.
*the drunk giggles are pretty cute*
His message made your face turn red and you were very grateful you weren’t anywhere near Charlotte.
—-
The next few days were relatively boring compared to the exciting Saturday evening you’d had. Grayson had texted you into the wee hours of the morning, quizzing you about everything under the sun. He claimed he wanted to know all of your answers to the world’s most important questions.
You only had class two days a week; Monday and Tuesday. The rest of the week was free for you to do homework, relax, and do some occasional free-lance reporting or journaling work. This week it just happened to be the first football game of the season for UCLA –your favorite season of the year. Professor Martin had given you the opportunity to be on the sidelines for the first half of the game and you were unbearably excited.
“Are you going to come up into the stands after half-time?” Charlotte questioned you as she tied her hair up into a ponytail, grabbing a baby blue ribbon to tie around the band.
“Duh.” You rolled your eyes at her, a bit jealous she was able to attend the game in a pair of denim shorts and a jersey.
Due to the possibility of being on camera, your professor had insisted you and the other student dress very professionally. “Stop doubting your outfit, Y/N. You look killer.” Charlotte assured you, noticing you stare just a bit too long at yourself in the full-length mirror in the living room.
Her comment made you feel at least a little better. You were wearing a pair of baby blue pumps, skin-tight leather pants and a tight white blouse with frills on the front. Your hair was beautifully curled, falling down your back smoothly. You liked your outfit, but you hadn’t been this dressed up in public –ever.
—-
“Great job you two!” Professor Martin grinned at you and Mike –the other student who had been selected to participate on the sidelines. “Feel free to head up into the stands!”
You handed your media pass to the professor and headed up towards the student section. The experience had been great –a little less thrilling than you’d expected, but you had taken a few photos and gotten some good notes for an article you could write up next week.
“Y/N!” Charlotte’s voice sounded over the crowd, the student section calm for the time being as the game wasn’t going on currently. Her little blonde head popped up, shooting you a smile and you grinned back at her, heading towards where she was sitting.“Hey lady, you looked good out there!” Charlotte hugged you as you sat down next to her, the smell of beer and popcorn overwhelming you.
“Thanks, Char.” You grinned, glancing around at the crew she was sitting with. The usual gang all said hi and your friend Wes sat down on the other side of you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you in for a hug.
“Long time no see Y/L/N.” He smiled down at you, his arm falling off your shoulders and resting behind your lower back. “You look great!”
“Thanks, Wes.” You smiled softly, leaning into him to rest your pained back.
Admittedly, you and Wes had tried out being more than just friends –more than a few times. It never got past some intense make outs, the forced dates were awkward and uncomfortable. There were never any hard feelings, always having a soft spot for each other. If Wes was somewhere, you were bound to be by his side, a bit of a comfort blanket for you in any situation. Soon, the second half started and the entire section stood back up, a groan escaping your mouth as your feet ached from the tall heels. Wes’s long arm wrapped around your waist, hiking you up into his side a bit to take some pressure off your feet.
“Thanks Weswey.” You smiled up at him, his head shaking in embarrassment as you called him his nickname.
——-
At the end of the fourth quarter, the group of you decided to head out seeing the Bruins were up by a healthy margin. You followed Charlotte out of the stadium, Wes and a few of your other friends close behind. A wince escaped your mouth as you nearly twisted your ankle.
“Get on.” Wes rolled his eyes, crouching down in front of you –willing you to get on his back.
You were not going to argue, slipping your heels off into your left hand and hopping up onto his back, your free arm tightening around his shoulders.
The group of you made it about halfway to the parking lot before you heard Charlotte’s friendly voice shriek “Oh hey!”
You didn’t bother to lift your head from Wes’s neck,extremely tired and just ready to be home.
“Y/N.” A familiar voice spoke your name and you shot your head up, your face losing all color as your eyes connected with Grayson’s.
“Grayson, hey!” You smiled at him, hoping to defer any discomfort in the very uncomfortable situation. Charlotte’s eyes were wide and panicked behind you, desperately trying to find a way to help you. “Were you at the game?”
“Uh, yeah –I texted you at halftime.” He furrowed his brow, digging his hands into his pockets. You wanted to hop off of Wes’s back so badly and explain he was just trying to help your poor feet. Ethan and a crew of guys stood behind Charlotte, a look of discontent on Ethan’s face made your stomach flip.
“Oh, sorry, I haven’t checked my phone.” You laughed, wiggling your heels in the air. “Nearly broke my ankle so just needed a ride.”
Grayson squinted at you, still really confused why you were monkeyed onto some guy’s back. You understood why he was upset, but at the same time it wasn’t like you two were dating or anything. You had barely heard from him all week.
“Ah, well –good to see you.” He nodded, backing away from you, towards Ethan. “You too Charlotte.” He smiled down at your small friend, turning on his heel to stand beside Ethan who patted his brother's back assuringly.
“Fuck, Y/N. I should’ve warned you or something.” Charlotte groaned, the group continuing your walk to the parking lot.
“Who was that guy?” Wes questioned beneath you, his lanky legs blurring in your vision. Truly, you wanted to just fall off his back and curl up in a ball and die.
“Someone tripping over his feet for our sweet baby angel Y/N.” Charlotte teased, unlocking her car from a few feet away. Wes set you down and let you slide into the passenger seat, his arms wrapping around you for a quick hug.
“Well, I’m sorry if I caused any problem...” He apologized, his face sinking slightly.
“Don’t apologize Wes, thank you for carrying me –I'll see you soon!” You grinned up at him, shutting the door and sinking into Charlotte’s seat. A frustrated groan leaving your lips as she started to pull out of her parking spot.
—--
“Y/N you have to text him.” Charlotte nudged your knee with her socked foot, pausing the episode of Grey’s Anatomy on the TV. You looked at her and rolled your eyes, throwing your head back on the couch to let out a groan. “You probably hurt his feelings sooo much, you have to at least say something. It’s been an entire week.”
“He probably wants nothing to do with me, Char.” You sighed, staring up at the ceiling. You had typed out a million messages to send Grayson after the game that day, but none of them could express what you wanted to say just right. He hadn’t reached out to you –understandably. For the first time in your life, you found yourself obsessively checking Instagram to see if he had pulled the trigger and unfollowed you. Surprisingly, he hadn’t yet, but you figured it would be coming soon…
“Well you can find out -” Charlotte snatched your phone out of your hand and shoved it in your face. “TEXT. HIM.”
“Ugh, FINE!” You screamed, throwing your hands up in frustration before gripping the phone and going to Grayson’s message thread. Geez, you really had no idea what to say –not only did you need to apologize for the Wes situation, but now you needed to apologize for how long it took you to say anything. Charlotte eyed you out of the side of her eye, pressing play on the TV, but making sure you actually followed through. About fifteen attempts later, you finally pressed send.
*Hey... I’m really sorry it took me this long to say something, but I really want to explain what happened last weekend.*
He responded rather quickly, making Charlotte smirk at you –like she knew he was just waiting to hear from you.
*Yeah I’d like to hear that explanation...*
A simple response, but enough to make you feel uneasy.*Can I call? It’s a lot to type out..*
The absolute last thing you wanted to do was stumble over your apology on a phone call, but you were having such a hard time finding the words to send to him in a text message.
*How about I come by? Be there in an hour?*
“Charlotte, he’s coming HERE-” You shrieked, burying your head into the pillow next to you. “I just wanted a phone call!”
“Looks like I’ll be spending the rest of the evening in my room...” She giggled, standing upto gather her things. “Be NICE, Y/N.”
—-
“Hey.” Grayson’s voice was quiet and deep as he stood on your front porch. Hands tucked deep into the pockets of his gray sweatpants, a simple white t-shirt clinging to his upper body. His hair was a bit damp -like he had just showered.
“Hi.” You muttered, stepping back from the door so he could step inside. Your socked feet lead him into your small bedroom, a small smile played on his lips as he looked around at your space.
“Cute posters.” He teased, nodding towards the decades old Jonas Brothers’ posters accompanied by new and improved ones. He sunk down onto the edge of your bed, kicking his shoes off and getting himself comfortable.“So...”
The nerves were racking your body, finding it extremely difficult to speak. The Bruins hoodie you wore just barely covered your upper thighs, a pair of Nike spandex shorts on underneath. “Last weekend.” You brought up the dreaded topic and sat down next to him on the edge of the bed.
“Yea... last weekend.” He glanced over at you, his brow furrowing in thought. “I’m sorry I made that so awkward.”
You shook your head, staring down at your hands. “Wes is just a friend –honestly –I just didn’t know how to explain that to you when I was glued to his back...”
“It didn’t really look like you two were just friends?” He turned to face you a little more directly, his jaw clenching and unclenching with every breath.
“Long-term best friends.” You assured him, pulling your knees to your chest. Yes, you were lying a little bit, but trying to explain to Grayson that you’d ever been more with Wes didn’t seem like a good idea for the current moment. “I didn’t text sooner because I didn’t know what to say... you seemed really upset with me.”
“Well... yeah.” He rolled his eyes at you, inching away from you slightly –he was clearly still irritated. “That’s my bad though, I think I just got a little ahead of myself.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not like we are dating or anything.” He shrugged, connecting his hazel eyes to your y/e/c ones. “We’re just friends too. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous.” His voice was cold and serious, it sent chills down your spine. For a moment, you felt your face fall –showing your emotion. Quickly, you pulled the corners of your mouth up into a small smile, hopeful Grayson didn’t see the quick falter.
“Right -yea.” You nodded at him confidently. He smiled at you widely, his eyes crinkling up in amusement as he patted his knees, standing up off your bed. Honestly, you were confused. Why had he driven all the way here to just... tell you that you two were just friends?
“Well, now that we got that worked out...” he stood up and slipped his shoes back on, his hands tucked back into his pockets. “I’m gonna head out.” He wasn’t making eye contact with you, but you weren’t really sure what to say. You almost felt as if he was being... mean to you?
“Oh, um –yeah.” You muttered awkwardly, standing up next to him, nearly jogging behind him down the hallway. “Bye?”
He stepped out the door and waved behind his back quickly, sliding in his car and taking off. Scattered thoughts flew across your mind as he drove away. What had just happened? Honestly, in the short few weeks you’d known this guy it was like you’d met three different versions of him. Nice, cookie-cutter, standard Youtube boy you expected. Shy, painfully awkward, expected 19 year old. Then this one –mean, cold, and sarcastic definitely unexpected. You shook your head, heading back towards your room.
As you laid down for the night, your fingers quickly tapped your phone screen –a nightly habit you were slowly forming. As you clicked on your list of followers and searched Grayson’s name, you couldn’t help the tears welling up in your eyes as you realized he no longer followed you. Angrily, you went to his page and unfollowed him, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of you being another fangirl.
——-
“He isn’t going to be there, Y/N.” Charlotte assured you, rummaging through your closet to find you a cute outfit for the night. “He was at ONE party.”
“But what if he is?!”You groaned, still tucked firmly under your covers –convinced you were not going to this massive party.
“Well, then you’re gonna look good as hell so he regrets how he treated you!” Charlotte tossed a few pieces of clothing at you and pointed towards your bathroom. “Get dressed –it's almost 9!”
As Charlotte did your hair and makeup, you tried to calm down the nerves racing through your body. After you unfollowed Grayson, you hadn’t heard from him –not that you expected to. He was active on Instagram, posting stories daily, but you resisted watching them. Honestly, you were still pissed off. You had taken down the picture he took of you and made your Instagram private again. At one point this week you had even deleted the app off your phone.
——
Your tall black wedges clicked on the pavement as you walked arm in arm with Charlotte towards the large house. She had curled your hair, pinning a few pieces back from your face. The black leather shorts and long-sleeved white body suit showed off all of your curves and accentuated your skin-tone. As much as you hoped Grayson wasn’t anywhere near this party, part of you wished he would be, so you could ignore him and show him what he’s missing.
——-
“Woah, woah, Y/N -slow down.” Charlotte hissed as you downed your sixth shot of the night. You could feel the effects already, but at this point you really didn’t' want to feel anything.
As soon as you walked into the party you immediately made eye contact with Grayson –you knew he saw the startled look in your eyes when he leaned over to whisper to his brother, a laugh falling from his lips. Since then, you and Charlotte had been in the kitchen playing a game with a few others –you were losing on purpose so you could drink as much as possible.
“Come on, grumpy –let's dance.” You yanked Charlotte behind you, heading back into the main room where you knew Grayson was. Your body intertwined with Charlotte’s the two of you slowly moving your bodies back and forth to the song blaring through the house. The euphoria of feeling slightly out of your mind and dancing to a loud song soon hit you, all thoughts of Grayson leaving your mind.
—-
“There’s no way in hell I’m jumping in the pool.” Charlotte backed away from the group of you playing truth or dare –shaking her head vigorously. Most of the party had moved outside as it was getting a bit too steamy in the confined space. You and about ten other people were playing truth or dare and Charlotte had just been dared to jump into the pool.
At this point you weren’t really sure how much you had had to drink –watching Grayson talk to a beautiful blonde girl in the corner had made you take at least 6 more shots. She was exactly the type of girl you had pictured him with, so you were trying your best to not be able to remember any of this tomorrow. Charlotte continued screeching about how unfair this dare was for a few seconds before her small body was suddenly being shoved into the illuminated pool by a red-headed guy in a snapback.
“What is wrong with you?” You shouted at him, looking frantically at the pool as Charlotte thankfully had resurfaced. Her eyes were shooting daggers at the kid who thought this was the funniest thing he had ever seen.
As you leaned down to help her out of the pool, the jerk placed his hands on your upper back firmly and shoved. Soon your entire body was engulfed by cool water, anger raging through you as you swam up to the top and gripped the edge of the pool next to Charlotte.
“Dude, what the hell?” A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the pool, his jaw was locked, eyes glued to the red-head. Ethan stood next to him, fists clenched as he followed his younger brother around the edge of the pool. Soon they were standing face to face with the red-head –both more than a few inches taller than him.
“You think that’s funny? Harassing women?”
“It was a joke man, relax.” The kid held his hands up in defense, scurrying away quickly before either of them had a chance to act further. While this was happening, Charlotte had managed to pull herself out of the pool, her small black dress clinging to her body, but mostly unharmed. As she held her hand out to help you, you shook your head at her, motioning down to your soaked –now see-through –white body-suit. She gasped, burying her face in her hands as she realized you weren’t wearing a bra either. Grayson soon turned his attention to the two soaked women next to him –Charlotte crouched down next to you.
He furrowed his brow at you, motioning around with his hand -“Y/N get out of the pool?” Ethan stood behind his brother, making sure the rest of the party went back to their business.
“She can’t.” Charlotte glared up at him.
“And why can’t she?” Grayson shot back at her, frustration evident in his voice.
“My shirt is seeee through.” You rolled your eyes at him, the liquid courage making your words a little slower and your confidence sky-rocket.
Honestly at this point you really would have just gotten out of the pool, not really caring that you were practically naked. Thankfully, Charlotte knew this and was holding your shoulder down in the water so you couldn’t hop out.
“Oh.” Grayson muttered, his eyes going straight to the ground –clearly unsure what to do.
“Here.” Ethan spoke up behind him, stepping forward to hand Charlotte his denim jacket that was once on his shoulders. Charlotte grinned up at him softly as the two boys stepped away, turning their backs to you as Charlotte helped you out of the pool and wrapped the jacket around you –successfully covering you up.
“Thank you.” You shouted at Ethan, making them both turn around to look at you. Charlotte was busy untying your shoes as they walked back over to where you stood. Ethan just nodded at you, as if he would have given the clothes off his back for anyone.
“Yea thanks.” Charlotte confirmed, standing up next to you –a firm arm around your waist as she noticed your unsteadiness. “We should probably head home... come on Y/N.”
She attempted to tug you along with her towards the back gate, but you stomped your bare feet into the grass. “No, wait!” You slurred, pointing a finger at Grayson. “Why Grayson?”
“Why?” He shot at you, confused.
“Why’d you lead me on –when you know you don’t like girls like me –why?” Your voice trailed off at the end of your rant, your confidence faltering and lower lip trembling as he looked at you incredulously. Never in your life would you have yelled at a man like this - drunk or not.
“What are you talking about?” He spoke quietly, his voice deep and serious. Ethan stood facing away from the three of you, truly minding his business until he was needed. “I didn’t lead you on, Y/N.”
You felt your lower lip tremble more aggressively, tears welling up in your eyes and spilling onto your cheeks as Charlotte comfortingly gripped your wrist. Sobs escaped your lips and even drunk you knew how much you were embarrassing yourself.
“Bye guys...” Charlotte muttered, tugging you along with her –you fully complying this time as Grayson watched you walk away sobbing, not stopping you once.
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ahtohallan-calling · 4 years
Text
chapter 16 of don’t read the last page is here!
masterpost
[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]
“I mean, even if that is what she’s filming today,” he said to a cat recovering from minor surgery as he held out a toy for it to bat around, “it’s not a big deal. I mean, she’s an actor, right? And anyway it’s for the movie, so no one else will see it yet, and everyone will know it’s fake. So it doesn’t bother me.”
The cat stopped playing and gave him a look that said even I know that’s bullshit, buddy.
Kristoff had always been a patient person. He wondered sometimes if it had started when his parents had adopted his oldest sister, or a few years before that when he had been a ward of the state waiting to be wanted, or perhaps he had just been born this way, stoic and solid, slow to anger and quick to forgive.
The magazine display in the checkout lane was testing that right now. 
She had been excited about that photoshoot with People just a couple of weeks ago. “They want me to be on the cover!” she had called to tell him on her way home from Sam’s office. “And do an article about, y’know, my rise to fame and stuff. I mean, it’s not Vogue or anything so it’s not a huge deal, but still!”
He didn’t really recognize her on the cover. They had slimmed her down for some reason, when just last week she had come home from a doctor’s visit upset because the doctor had told her he was worried about the rate at which she was losing weight when she had already been slender. “I just don’t have time to eat on set sometimes,” she had explained to Kristoff as they went through the grocery store together, both of them in sweatshirts with the hood pulled up. “And then I’m dancing all day, and then I’m stressed as fuck, and I just…”
(He’d packed her lunch every day since then and left a note in each bag. She sent him a picture one day of all of them taped up around her mirror.)
Somehow worse than that, though, was the little blurb in splashy pink letters: Anna Arendelle Rises To Fame...And Falls In Love? Find Out More On Page 36!
She’d done the interview before the Hans debacle, and when they’d asked if she had ever been in love before she had said, “Oh, absolutely. And it’s the most amazing, wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. I’d take that over the fame any day.”
It had been romantic when she had told him about it later that night when they laid tangled in bed together. It was less romantic now knowing that it was followed up in the article with a whole paragraph about her New Year’s duet with Hans Westergaard.
Between the two of them, they had almost all of the magazines on the rack covered, most of them promising “details about their budding romance inside!” One particularly abhorrent one actually had a picture of Kristoff next to her one day sitting on a park bench; he’d had his hood on, and she’d made the mistake of keeping hers off and leaving that unmistakable red hair on display. Still, he had no idea how anyone would be stupid enough to think he was Hans, considering he had a good five inches and thirty pounds at least on the other man. Then again, the same magazine promised proof Prince William was a lizard.
He turned that one around so no one else could see it, and then picked up a Twix-- Anna’s favorite-- and threw it in the cart. On second thought, he grabbed another; he needed one, too.
---
"Damn, is that really gonna work under latex gloves?"
Kristoff jumped and slammed his laptop shut. "Jesus, didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to look over people's shoulders?"
The vet tech grinned. "Yeah. But I think when you see your favorite intern looking at engagement rings, you can make an exception. That bloodwork came back clean, by the way. We can send him home tomorrow."
"Thanks, Ryder."
The other man plopped down in the seat across from him. "Pay me back by finally telling me more about this girlfriend."
He groaned. "Why are you so invested in this?"
"I already watched all the good stuff on Netflix. Now I'm bingeing coworker drama. Casey and Paul are fucking, by the way, which is why--"
"They suddenly both started volunteering for kennel clean-up, yeah. Obvious."
"So give me something better to talk about. Like why you were seriously looking at a heart shaped stone."
"It's romantic!"
"It's cheesy. She'll hate it. Probably."
"How do you know so much about women?"
Ryder waggled his eyebrows. "I'm kind of a love expert."
"Didn't you tell me once you were perpetually single?"
"Exactly. I know exactly why to avoid all the bullshit. Stop changing the subject. What's her name?"
"Anna," Kristoff said before he could stop himself, and Ryder grinned.
---
had to talk to hans today bc we r shooting stuff together again
he was super apologetic
said it was a waiter who filmed n leaked it n that he called the company
.
Do you believe him?
.
idk
he said the bowtie thing was to match the confetti not me
i think i believe that part at least i mean why else would he have had a silver one lying around
.
Maybe he already had some ready no matter what color you wore.
.
idk i think that’s too creepy even for him
it is right?
god i can’t think about that today
He waited a long time before texting her again, keeping his focus on the puppies he was giving their first shots instead of why today was apparently the wrong day to think about just what Hans would do to capture her attention. As hard as clinicals were and as exhausting as it was, this was the work he had dreamed of doing his whole life, and the fact that it required his full attention when he most needed a distraction from the rest of the world was the cherry on top right now.
But then the puppies were vaccinated, and it was already four o’clock, and all that was left to do for the day was check on the animals who were staying in the kennels overnight, and his mind couldn’t help but wander as he went from cage to cage.
“I mean, even if that is what she’s filming today,” he said to a cat recovering from minor surgery as he held out a toy for it to bat around, “it’s not a big deal. I mean, she’s an actor, right? And anyway it’s for the movie, so no one else will see it yet, and everyone will know it’s fake. So it doesn’t bother me.”
The cat stopped playing and gave him a look that said even I know that’s bullshit, buddy.
Anna had gotten home before him for once that night. She was already in the shower, and she didn’t emerge until he’d already cooked dinner and was half-considering digging in to his plate. “Oh! Hey, baby,” she said as she came into the kitchen, still only wearing her towel. “I thought I heard you in here.”
“Jesus, Anna, how hot did you have the water? You look like a lobster.”
“Nice to see you too,” she said, trying to tease, but she looked away from him instead of coming over to greet him like she always did with a kiss.
He went to her instead and stood before her, not touching her like his heart was screaming for him to do; she leaned away, just barely enough to confirm his suspicions.
“You had to do a kissing scene today, didn’t you?”
She only nodded.
“It wasn’t really you guys,” he said softly. “Just your characters. Did he-- did he try anything?”
“No, not at all. He was a perfect gentleman, and it went just fine, and after he made sure I wasn’t bothered since he knew I was kind of upset about all the hubbub but...I don’t know, Kris. I don’t know what’s acting for him and what isn’t.”
A tear slid down her cheek and spattered on the floor. Still he didn’t touch her, waiting to let her make the first move. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“Me too. I’m sorry I...god. I’m sorry for everything.”
“I’m not upset about it, though,” he lied. “In case you were worried.”
She stepped closer to him then, pressing her still-damp forehead against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, letting his thumb rub gentle circles over her shoulder. This is why, Kristoff, he reminded himself, this is why you can’t tell her.
“I love you,” she said, sounding so forlorn he could have sworn he felt a little crack open up in his chest.
“Love you too. More than anything.”
---
He still didn't understand exactly how to use Twitter, but he did know enough to understand that when he logged in and saw stuff about Anna before he even searched her name, something big was happening.
Exclusive new behind the scenes photos from Anastasia! Click here for more:
It already had six thousand retweets, and dozens of replies all screaming about the photo of Hans and Anna clinging to one another. They were in full costume, surrounded by cameras, and the photo was grainy, but still he couldn't help but zoom in on Anna's face, the way she gazed up so lovingly at Hans, the same way she used to look at him before she started running so low on time. Now it seemed he only ever saw her when she was asleep or halfway there.
"Didn't take you for a Disney fan, Bjorgman," Ryder said from behind him.
"Not Disney. It's Fox," he muttered, knowing it was useless to rebuke him for peeking yet again.
"My sister works on that set," Ryder said proudly. "She does Anna Arendelle's hair and makeup."
"...Honeymaren is your sister?"
"...what the fuck? I thought I was the nosy one. How the hell do you-- oh my god, is that your Anna? The one you’ve known since high school and you live with and--”
Kristoff stood up suddenly, his chair screeching with the movement. “You can’t tell anyone,” he said, his voice unnaturally harsh. “I’m serious.”
For once, Ryder looked serious. “Jesus, man, no need to go all ‘I’m six-foot-four on me’. We’re friends. I wouldn’t fuck you over like that.”
His heart was pounding. He could trust Ryder-- he wanted to, at least, but it had been a secret for so long, and already even without other people knowing his life had been upended, and if it got any worse he might have to--
“Kristoff. Seriously, man, I’ll forget you said anything.”
Ryder looked wounded somehow as he turned and left. Feeling guilty, Kristoff called after him, “Wait, it’s just--”
Ryder glanced back over his shoulder. “We’ve all got our shit. I’m here to talk if you need.”
He walked away, and Kristoff found himself standing alone in a room silent except for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights and his own breath, harsh and heavy in his chest.
---
Sweat poured down his back as he ran harder than he ever had before, his legs pumping like he was desperately trying to get somewhere that remained forever just out of his grasp. 
He had woken up that morning to an empty bed and a post-it on the fridge with an apology. Meeting with Sam before filming, completely forgot. So sorry xo
She hadn’t even remembered to grab her lunch from the fridge. She probably had forgone breakfast too, and they were in the thick of filming now, doing the huge dance scenes that seemed to take all day and half the night and left her so exhausted sometimes he had to help her undress.
Last night had been one of those nights, and the night before, and this night would be the same, and his lungs were burning, and he’d already gone five miles, sprinting the whole way, and by the end of the day he would be too sore to move, but he still didn’t know what the hell to do and so he just kept running.
---
He was covering the front desk today for the receptionist, whose daughter had just had a baby; normally he wouldn’t have volunteered for something like this, would have wanted to stay doing what he knew best and getting as much experience working with the animals as he could, but as much as he hated talking on the phone to people, he knew he was likely to do more harm than help in the back of the clinic today.
Mercifully, the phones hadn’t been busy so far that morning. He stared, distantly curious, at his hand as it rested on the mousepad, trembling as if he wasn’t sitting perfectly still in a room that was by all standards a little over warm.
A styrofoam cup filled with shitty breakroom coffee appeared just in front of his fingers. “We’ve been taking bets on how long you’ll last out here without falling asleep,” Ryder informed him. “I said another hour, but it was looking iffy for a second there, so I brought you this.”
“Thanks, man.”
He ignored the cup and went back to watching his hand. He didn’t know a lack of sleep could do this. He’d have to keep that in mind next time he was scheduled for a surgery the next morning, would have to find some way to fall asleep in spite of his own mind.
“I, uh, I told my sister I know you. And that I know about it. If that’s okay, I mean,” Ryder said hurriedly. “She’d told me before about hanging out with Anna, and so I just kinda put two and two together and assumed she knew.”
“‘S fine. She’s known the whole time.”
“I, uh, I asked her if she knew why it was a secret. I could have asked you, I know, but, uh...you know how you are with secrets. Figured if I wanted the truth--”
“Just tell me what you want to say. Please,” Kristoff said, taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee in the futile hope it would help.
“Just...that it sucks. Especially with this shit with them saying she’s dating Hans Westergaard. Wish I could tell you ‘I get it’ or something. But I don’t, so I, uh, just...yeah. But I hope the, y’know, engagement ring thing that I saw you looking at that one time...I hope it works out.”
Kristoff ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Me, too.”
---
“They seriously won’t just let you call in sick?”
“I mean, I could, but at this point, I’m in all the scenes that are left, and I can’t just halt production for a whole day just because I’m sore, especially when we’re going to Russia in two weeks, and they’re all depending on me, and I can’t just--”
“You sprained your wrist,” he said flatly. “This is more than just being sore.”
“I know, but we already filmed one scene with it, I got Honeymaren to put some foundation on it so you can’t see the--”
“Anna,” he said, his voice so strained she finally went quiet.
He grabbed one of her makeup wipes off the bathroom counter and came back to where she was perched on the edge of the bed. He took the injured wrist in his hand as carefully as he could and started gently dabbing at the nearly-invisible lines of makeup. She winced, and that crack in his chest widened a little more, deepening further as the green and brown smudges faded into view.
“Jesus,” he muttered, and her fingers curled into a fist as she tried to pull away, embarrassed. “Anna, no, I just-- how did you manage this?”
“There was this stunt with the train scene, and nobody else was going to have a stunt person do it, and so I...I wanted to try and see if I could do it, but I just...I don’t know, Kris, I just fucked it up, I guess.”
He bit back everything he wanted to say; what good what it do, anyway, when everybody else seemed to be encouraging her to push herself this way? Instead, he leaned down and pressed a featherlight kiss to her palm. “Let me get something to put on it.”
When he came back a few minutes later with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel, she had already curled up on her side and fallen asleep, still fully dressed. He sat beside her, lifting her head onto his lap. She still didn’t wake up, and so he carefully raised her injured wrist, holding it gently as he could as he pressed the makeshift cold compress against it. 
He stayed holding her that way, for a long, long time, until the peas had thawed, and then he went to the kitchen and threw them out and leaned over the sink and splashed cold water onto his face, wondering how much one person could bear.
---
Mid-February had finally rolled around with all its gray skies and sappy pink storefront displays. She was leaving in thirty-six hours, and he hadn’t seen her since the night before, because he’d gotten up two hours earlier than normal to come in early so he could leave early and take her out on the date they’d been planning since even before New Year’s, the one to make up for her being gone for the next three weeks and missing their first Valentine’s together.
It wasn’t that he gave a single fuck about the holiday; it was that she did, and so he’d put his heart into planning it all out: they were going to drive outside of the city limits, just enough that anyone who saw them might do a double take but still keep walking, but not so far that they would get back home too late for anything else. He’d found a diner just like one they used to hang out at in high school, one where they could order a giant strawberry milkshake to dip their fries into and spend all the quarters they could find in her car on playing cheesy old love songs from the sixties, one where if they got lucky they could risk holding hands under the table without anyone seeing.
He was already half-dressed after showering off the day’s stress, expecting her to come through the door any minute, when his phone buzzed.
i’m so sorry
He was half-tempted to throw the phone out the window. Maybe if he didn’t read the rest of the message it wouldn’t come true.
He looked again anyway, that now-familiar crack in his chest widening into a full-blown chasm.
i’m so sorry, something happened with the plane tickets and then the schedules changed and so they want us to have a meeting
hans said we can do it at his place (🤮) since we’re all tired of the set
but at least that’s towards where you said we were gonna go 
i’m so so sorry kris can you pick me up from here? ill just ride over with him i guess so i can leave my car here
He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, putting the phone aside to bury his face in his hands. How the fuck had they gotten here? This wasn’t supposed to happen; they were supposed to move in together, and it would all be fixed, and he’d see her enough, and it was all going to be fine, but it hadn’t been fine for so long he was starting to wonder whether it would be again. 
His hand, his arm, his whole body felt like it had been filled with lead when he picked up the phone to respond. Of course, baby. Just call me when it’s over.
He finished getting dressed and went to sit on the sofa; figuring at least he could turn on the TV and find some stupid show to drown out his thoughts. His eyes flicked down to the Netflix button on the remote; what the hell, he thought, you already feel like shit, might as well see her during it.
He put her movie on, the stupid Christmas one he’d helped her run lines for, and watched her-but-not live through a dreamy, whirlwind romance, even almost smiled at the scene they had read together on his living room floor all those months ago; he closed his eyes for the kiss at the end, even though he’d seen the movie before with Sven when it first came out, he didn’t know if he could take watching it right now.
He kept watching while the credits rolled, jealous of all the people whose names scrolled by for every second they got to spend with her, not knowing how he coveted her time. It was getting dark; he glanced at his phone, expecting to see that he’d missed something from her, but there was nothing.
He went to the kitchen and cracked open a beer; he wasn’t normally one to drink when he got like this, but tonight-- tonight something felt different, like the air was suddenly running out of oxygen, like the walls of this house they had thought would be full of so much happiness were closing in on him.
He finished it; still nothing. It was late enough now she’d be too hungry to wait through the drive up. Fine; they’d get McDonald’s, or order a pizza, or he’d cook pancakes for her-- he didn’t care, he just wanted to fucking see her before she left, just wanted to be with her and no one else and pretend that it could be that way all the time.
He cracked open another beer. Another hour passed, and the frustration that had been pooling in his gut had started to ferment into worry. She was never quiet this long; something had to have happened, something had to be wrong. 
His jaw was clenched; he released it, thinking it would lighten some of the tension coiled tight in every part of him, but it didn’t. He felt hot and cold and too big and too small all at once, a bundle of aching and anxiety bouncing around the prison of his own skull while he waited to hear something, anything.
Suddenly he could take it no more and stormed out the front door, snatching up his keys and heading for the car. He had it started, had his hand on the gear stick to pull it into reverse when a sudden horrible thought hit him: what if she didn’t want him to pick her up? What if she wanted to spend her last nights here with everyone else, with all the other people like her, the ones who kept pushing her and and demanding so much of her, all in the pursuit of-- of whatever the fuck it was that kept her going like this.
He went back inside and sat at the kitchen table, his eyes never moving from the door.
Another half hour passed, and then suddenly it swung open and she was there, her eyes wild and her hair half-out of a ponytail. “Kris, I’m so fucking sorry,” she gasped out, and he stood, striding over to her.
“I-- I rode with Hans,” she explained, already reaching for him, “and then I got there and realized my phone was gonna die, and I didn’t have my charger with me because it was in the car, and no one else had theirs either, and then the meeting just kept fucking going on and on because everyone was asking so many questions, and then I had to borrow someone’s phone to get an Uber and it turns out that that just complicates things and I-- fuck fuck fuck I’m so sorry, I just--”
“I need to go,” he said shortly, catching the door before it could swing shut behind her and slipping out into the night without saying goodbye.
33 notes · View notes
sunfloweradore · 5 years
Text
drafts!!
okay SO i’m on break and have a shit ton of free time and i actually want to write (shocker right omg) i have many drafts and i’d just like to know which one you’d be most interested in me posting first (drafts are after the blurbs in bold)
vote here or in my inbox  
1. based off of something i read on wattpad but i can’t find it or i would credit it sksskls, harry’s neighbor is flicking the bean EVERY TIME he’s in the shower so he has to hear her moans all the time and he is fed! up!
2. basically y/n wants to move out of her parent’s house and will do anything to find a decent roommate, it turns out to be harry, and he’s secretly an assassin
3. someone requested that i write a story where the reader is latina which has been in my inbox FOREVER so if you requested it i am so sorry for the wait but i’m not latina so it’s a little difficult to write from that perspective but i'm trying!!
4. harry is a photography major and has a crush on y/n (kind of a nerd/popular girl thing but it’s sweet)
5. so nick sets harry up on a blind date with some girl who is bi and sees a girl in the crowd who she can’t stop staring at and it’s y/n, harry actually offers for them all to have a threesome once he sees her
6. finally, i don’t have a draft for it, but someone requested that i have an a/b/o fic where a rival pack hurts y/n
1. Harry was pissed off and turned on constantly. All he wanted was to shower in peace- it’s why he moved out of his friends house and into an apartment. He was now regretting that decision because of how shittily thin the walls were. Every time he wanted to take a shower, he’d do it at night time. It was just how he was, a routine thing. He’d get through his day, eat something, take a shower, and pass out with a dozen fluffy blankets. However, once he’d moved into said apartment, he discovered that he’d have to make some adjustments.
The first time it happened, Harry assumed it was a one time thing (everyone has their needs, so did he) and was enjoying his shower, turning up his music to block out the noise. The next five times, though, made him realize it would keep happening no matter what kind of noise he tried to make in its place. He couldn’t necessarily say that he didn’t enjoy the moans- they were pretty, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a tinge of arousal whenever he heard one, but Jesus, it was so bothersome. If he was trying to take a relaxing bath with lavender bath salts and calming music, muffled moans would burst through the room. If he just needed a quick rinse before going to bed, bam, it sounded like someone was either getting murdered or having the best damn orgasm in the world... every single time. Apparently whoever this woman was, really enjoyed getting herself off, especially when she heard the water running on the other side of the wall (Harry could kind of understand, though, he was a bit of an exhibitionist, himself, but he definitely wouldn’t fuck himself that loudly without even knowing who was on the other side. For all she knew, Harry could be an 80 year old man whose nurse showered him every night).
In a sour moment mixed with cheap drugstore alcohol and pure bravery, Harry decided enough was enough.
2.  The sounds of cars beeping and trailing down the highway echoed through Y/N’s ears on her long, tiring walk home. She lived with her parents in her second year of college, and, while she appreciated their generosity, she needed to find a place closer because the walk back gave her blisters (she probably needed a car, too, but that was a whole different struggle). She didn’t have many friends, either, tending to isolate herself on accident in an attempt to be a good student, so it’s not like she could ask anyone if she could pay rent to live with them or anything of the sort. Her only option was to look for ads or fliers in her neighborhood that sounded good enough for her to live in (she was very desperate at this point and could honestly care less if they had some sketchy building, as long as her room and the rent were decent).
3.  (Hey babe! I don’t know if you’re still doing requests but if you are, could you do one where the reader is latina? Like yovanna ventura (u can check her ig she’s so gorgeous!) and like the fans hates her bc they want him to date someone skinny and white and compares her to kendall or camille, and bc of that she’s having second thoughts on dating him, thank you hun!💖💖)) If Y/N had to describe Harry’s past girlfriends, the first word that came to mind was… plain. And she didn’t mean it in a bad way, honestly, she didn’t, but it felt like there wasn’t hope for anyone who wasn’t... white enough... someone you’d see on the cover of all magazines, someone who didn’t… stand out. At the same time, though, it seemed to have become an expectation that he dated girls like that, who were equally as famous as he was and people within his circle that he was comfortable with. Which is why it was such a shock that he posted a picture with a latina, naturally golden skin glowing with a smile that matched Harry’s completely. No one expected it at all, which made her a bit sad, honestly. Not because she felt bad about being with him, no, not at all, but because they’d all been expecting someone who was the complete opposite of her.
4. “Make sure to delete the ones that are ugly, please!”
“Got it,” he spoke softly, enamored by the effortless way her hair fell onto her collarbones. The lighting was perfect, peering through the tree leaves and shining particular light onto her right eye and enhancing certain parts of her pink sweater. Honestly, this was their first shoot and he already had an inkling that no photos would be deleted.
5.  Harry was on a date with a girl. A girl he thought was insanely hot, despite her odd choice to go to a club in some part of LA he’d never even heard of and he actually quite liked going to them (more so being dragged there by his friends, but it was fun most of the time to see them all get wasted, even if he was somewhat a wallflower). He thought it was going to end in her being all over him once she had a few daiquiris in her, hoping to take her home but he should’ve known that Nick wouldn’t introduce him to anyone he’d actually like, or, more specifically, anyone who’d actually like him. It started off okay, she’d asked him about his upcoming album and he answered politely despite answering those types of questions more times than he could count on both hands. She seemed distracted and he wanted that kind of attention on him, not whatever was behind him. He wanted to kiss her glossy lips and feel her dig her long nails into him, feel them pull at his skin while he fucks into her.
6. Can you do a werewolf!au and a soulmate!au where Harry finds his soulmate aka y/n but then a rival pack hurts y/n? Happy ending
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hey quick question: why the fuck is the topic of needing a date for a school prom/formal pushed so heavily on kids at the ages of 15/16 or 17/18? when it’s only one night of lousy top 40s music (for example my year 10 formal was filled with Rihanna’s songs “S&M” and “rude boy”, a barrage of David guetta and Flo Rida/LMFAO songs and then Adele’s “someone like you”. hell, the biggest mood killer of the night was a “pumped up kicks” - foster the people cover by a band of boys from my year)? and then sub par food? and the night of the formal, they’ll only remember snippets of, only a few years after it happened? like fuck off.
prom/formal should be a night to be enjoyed with your friends, not some random guy or girl in your year group that you’ve barely uttered a fucking word to (in nearly all cases, besides the ones who’ve started dating or y’know they’re just friends going as friends, like I did with one of my guy friends in year 12) in the whole either 4 (for year 10 or junior proms/formals) or 6 years (for year 12/senior ones) you’ve been going to school together. like I remember my crush in year 10 tried to set me up with his best friend (a petty thing to do, to dangle himself in front of me, really, bc he was already taking someone) that I’d been super sassy to at the athletics carnival the previous year, and generally never spoke to.... except when we were forced to be partners for our ballroom dancing PE lessons and assessment that I barely ever participated in. then I was made to look like a cruel bitch bc I said no to him, and he didn’t end up going bc he didn’t have a date.... or at least that’s what it made me feel like on formal night when he didn’t turn up and his friends looked kinda slightly sullen about it, which was also coupled with rude comments from teachers. but I think he was cool with it though. his actual excuse was that “formal is overrated and expensive... and I come back next year???? like what’s the point?? I’ll just go to our year 12 one!” which he did, because I saw the photos.
like why the fuck was i shamed for a whole two straight years by my teachers at catholic school in years 9 & 10, who made it their business to tell me that “no real man from this school, in your year (bc we could only take people from our year group to formals) will ever take you to the formal, unless you learn to be a real woman in the eyes of jesus” or that my “goal for the year should be to gain 10 kilos bc the real men here at this school only like women with meat on their bones and not a girl who looks like she starves herself!” (which if they bothered to ask any of my friends for evidence, they’d find out that I ate A LOT and I’m legitimately naturally skinny)...
like why the fuck is this your business as my idk english/maths/art/sport/religion/science teacher or year coordinator etc??? stay the fuck out of it ms shackleback, I swear to fuck. and also why did this always have to be done out of the way of my friends, “in private” so that I never had anyone to back up my claims??? also why the fuck are you so condescending? they’re real men? while I’m a feral child? THEY’RE LITERALLY 15, MR RHONSON! THEY MAKE WANKING/FLESH LIGHT JOKES AND ALSO RAPE JOKES ON THEIR OWN OR EACH OTHER’S FACEBOOK PAGES EVERY FUCKING NIGHT!!!! THEY’RE NO FUCKING ANGELS AND SAINTS OR GENTLEMEN! THEY’RE JUST AS GROSS AS 15yo ME MAKING JOKES ABOUT ACCIDENTALLY BECOMING A SEX WORKER WHEN SHE MOVES TO PUBLIC SCHOOL! FOR CHRIST’S ALMIGHTY GODDAMN FUCKING SAKE! (not that sex workers are actually gross, you keep doing you ladies! I was just fresh out of my eminem and rap phases is all. and also that defs DID NOT happen anyway 😂)
like fuck, I was even shamed on fucking formal night. the one night where after making all the jokes about turning up in no makeup, ripped black skinny jeans, an ADTR or amity affliction shirt and converses bc I apparently “wasn’t like the other girls bc I was SoOoOoO oRiGiNaL AND pUnK!” or pulling a lady Gaga by turning up in a garbage bag... but making it fashion; or whatever other dumb fucking shit I said.... I turned up looking super nice (for 16yo me that is)... like nice enough to impress my crush at the time so much that he dropped his jaw y’all! in fact, everyone did! 😂
yet I was met with almost nonstop backhand compliments by like nearly all of my teachers. comments like “you look so wonderful *my friends walk off* but what a shame your lack of lady-like behaviour doesn’t compensate for the effort you put in!” or “you brushed up nicely! but what a shame you don’t have a boy with you! you’d look lovely with one on your arm! but you didn’t clean yourself up enough to have one of the real men in your year! how embarrassing!” *pointed, jeering look* and snide comments about me being in a dress when I turned up to school in one every day???? like what the fuck did I turn up to school in? up to $1000 worth of agent provocateur luxury lingerie ensembles, a school blazer and heels? with an apple, a book, my glasses and a riding crop to discipline the rowdy boys? with a coy smile to match Megan Fox’s on any merch associated with Jennifer’s body? fucking honestly let girls joke a little?
then a random guy (obvs one of the popular guys) in my year turns up with a fucking literal BLOW UP SEX DOLL. YES YOU READ THAT RIGHT! A BLOW UP SEX DOLL as a prank. and you know the types of comments he gets? “oh that Benson is a real laugh isn’t he!? a lark!” and “WHAT A GREAT PRANK BEN!” and the like. like fuck off. (but then again I never found out if he got cautioned about it, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did) literally the only good non backhanded comment I remember receiving on the night of my year 10 formal was my (male) drama teacher saying: “Ilona, holy shit! you look so nice tonight! whose idea was your hippy/gypsy vibe! I dig it! so many of the guys here would kill (not obviously of course, shit) to have you on their arm! why so down? why so glum? have a good night, yeah?”
finally to finish off, honestly how the fuck the teachers couldn’t understand that the constant degrading and negative remarks and treatment they were persistently giving me, made me feel like that I never deserved a date in the first place, I’ll never fucking know. 🤔
but when I changed to public school, why didn’t any of my teachers intervene with this? it was so much more enjoyable (but still annoying) to only have the boys in the year below me try to jockey for spots to take me to my year 12 formal (bc public school let you take anyone within a reasonable age range). but still. why is it pushed? in neither of these scenarios did I ever need a male friend to take me. I was more than happy going on my own to be with my friends 🤷🏻‍♀️. i had only one negative comment on the night of my year 12 formal. and that was my year coordinator saying that I was very awkward in high heels. but altoghter I brushed up nicely. but then again, I either misplaced my phone or it got stolen. bc by the end of the night, I didn’t have my phone. the highlight of the night was my teachers getting fucking smashed and constantly requesting that the soundtrack of grease be played along with a load of 70s/80s music 😂 it was great. 😅
the only reasons why I remember both of my formals so clearly are because one was so awfully negative and unbearable (year 10/junior) that I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of there, and the other one was passable and tolerable, even if I did get my phone stolen (year 12/senior) 😂
so, this is a message to anyone who wants to be a teacher or has just become a new teacher in a high school: if you harass kids like this, over something so fucking goddamn trivial as a formal/prom date; I will literally come to fucking haunt you when I die. leave kids the fuck alone to have some fun with their friends.
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artificialqueens · 6 years
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Hold On To Me Chapter 12 {biadore} - imafuckinglibra
Idk how to intro this so let’s all just do a collective miss vaaAAANJjiee. Okay now, Chapter 12. Yay. Bc I like numbers ending in 0 or 5 I’m very tempted to end this fic on 15 but we’ll see (probably not wops) I had a beta this time which was cool thanks for the help babe. And other than that we have some hurt, some fluff and some smut so enjoy bitches. K bye.
“When’s the last time you saw him? Or was that it?” Detox peeked out from behind her mirror with one eye already lined, too intrigued by the story of how Danny ran out of Roy’s classroom to finish the other.
“No.” Roy desperately, with his head back, downed the last of his mocktail. He was over this no alcohol rule his doctor put on him. In the words of the nosey Detox - he’s had it. Officially. “Yesterday I saw him and some…douchebag, making out.”
“Ooh…ouch.” The other queens getting ready with Detox’s reaction echoed throughout the room.
“Yeah.” He somberly nodded dropping his gaze to his now empty glass.
After Danny ran out he tried going after him to explain but the teen was quicker than expected. His inhumanly long legs carrying him much faster than the injured Roy could ever keep up with.
He tried calling endlessly afterwards getting the number from Shane, he even tried from Shane’s phone a few times eventually even calling his mother when Danny hadn’t shown up to school two days in a row following the incident.
The only other option he considered was actually going to his home to confront him and declare his love and more importantly explain that everything was some horribly fucked up misunderstanding.
That was until Danny finally showed up that Thursday with Dan, or as he had decided on calling him, Milk, with his arm around him.
Just the sight of someone else clinging onto the boy he loved so much broke his already cold heart into a million unmendable pieces. But finding them at the end of the day disgustingly lip locked in the hallway pressed up against Danny’s locker really pushed him over the edge.
After that he was unconsolable. He threw things in his house, breaking furniture, paintings, anything within reach before he collapsed onto his couch a complete and utter mess.
He had never felt so helplessly alone, so lost in despair and heartbreak that nothing seemed worth it anymore.
He had started debating if the main character Alfred Jones from the book his juniors were assigned, Doctor Fischer of Geneva or The Bomb Party, had the right idea after losing his wife.
He had lost his own Anna-Luise and that glass of whiskey laced with prescription pain medication to take away all the agony had started looking more and more appealing by the passing hour.
Lucky for him the friends he had previously hated for putting him in this predicament was still there by his side, Shane and Raja, helping him pick up the pieces. What pieces they could that is.
Alas the show must go on…
He had returned to school the next morning avoiding any interactions or even having to look at Danny or his new apparent boyfriend.
Acting completely on auto pilot, an emotionless robot as he went about his day. Sure it’s been a while since he’s dated but he never remembered feeling this way, this shattered.
He did his duties, assigned homework, ate his lunch alone in the same excruciating silence he had grown so accustomed to and when faced with Danny in day to day life he shut down further. Blanking out completely to avoid facing the inevitable heart break creeping in again.
He even somewhere in his robotic haze accepted his friends’ invitation to their show. He didn’t exactly feel in the mood for drag, both his injuries and his heart were still too sore to put on a gown and go be productive which is how he ended up here, watching his friends getting ready while he read a book.
“Wait was the guy he was face sucking with like really tall and pale? And gorgeous?” Detox, now with both eyes winged, popped out again.
“Why? One of your discarded trash?” He snarled in her direction.
“Moewr, but no. Willam mentioned it’s his late birthday party tonight and that they had to organize a date for him.” She started digging through her phone that was laying on the table next to the endless amount of powder foundations. “This guy.”
Roy got up to take hold of the phone. Examining the photo lit up on the screen of the one and only, big and milky in an ice skating outfit. “That’s the one.”
The one asshole who’s teeth he wanted to kick in so hard he’d have to stick a brush up his ass to clean them.
He was a pretentious douche who acted above everything and anyone just because mommy and daddy were some kind of lawyers who raised a spoilt brat.
“So then it’s like an arranged thing? It’s not a real thing.” Courtney tried reassuring bringing him a glass of what he hoped was wine and not just grape juice. “One glass can’t hurt right?”
“Thank you Jesus.” He took the much needed alcohol and threw his head back after taking a big swig savoring the taste and feel of it burning slightly down his throat.
“He wouldn’t have been that mad if he didn’t care or was planning on going to find a new man, right?” Raja chimed in. She had a point.
“He’s a teenager, Raj, their brains wor…” His rebuddle got interrupted by a loud ringing coming from Courtney’s bosom.
“That’s something you don’t see every day…” Detox got up pointing to Courtney. “Behold the great vibrating slut. Latest in technology.”
“Shut up.” Roy growled in the very obviously drunk Detox’s direction keeping his focus on Courtney.
“It’s Danny.” Courtney went pale even through the multiple layers of make up when she pulled the ringing device out and looked at the screen.
“Why would he?” Roy tried grabbing the phone from her hand but she was quicker than him and answered it.
All the other queens immediately came running to circle them, the room dead silent as everyone eagerly tried to listen in on their conversation.
“Daniela?” Courtney carefully spoke.
“Is he there!?” Her phone didn’t even need to be on speaker to hear Danny’s yelling over some incredibly loud music and cheering.
“Who? Roy? Yeah, right here.”
“Put him on!” He nearly screamed.
Hesitantly handing the phone to Roy they could hear some very loud screeching coming from the other end.
“Danny?” Roy spoke, his heart pounding out of his chest getting ready for an earful and a half.
“Roy? Roy! Where are you?”
“At the club? Listen I…what’s wrong? Why are calling? Are you okay?” Recognizing the panic in his voice made his already racing heart speed up tenfold.
Shit this was not good. Flashbacks of the last time Danny called like this replaying on a never ending loop in his mind.
“No…” The soft sob could barely be heard. “I’ll wait at the same 7-11 as last time just please come get me I…I don’t know who else, who else to call. Hurry please.”
Shit!
In a moment of sheer panic Roy dropped his wine, not even bothering to acknowledge it as he grabbed his keys and rushed to his car before anyone could stop him.
He didn’t need any more motivation. Danny needed him.
-
He shouldn’t have listened to Chris.
‘Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!’ Danny cursed his friend and his ‘ingenious’ plan from the previous day, replaying the conversation in his mind while he waited for Roy.
Maybe he shouldn’t have called him but he was desperate and it was too late to turn back now.
It’s a long walk, and the music is loud. She sees an old friend, as she walks through the crowd. Puts on her best smile, but underneath it she’s a broken girl…
The deep voice of Justin Warfield filled the confined space he was in. After running out of the classroom halfway through the day he made a beeline straight home.
He’s never been a runner, he hates running, he hates exercise in general let’s face it - but that day he ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him away from anything Roy Haylock.
But that was nearly 3 days ago.
He’ll never get you, he will never understand. He’ll never get you, you can find a better man.
The singer repeated as the pace and volume of both his singing and the music picked up every time he sang those two sentences, repeating them in a seemingly never ending loop.
“You know you can’t run away from him forever, babe.” Chris tried comforting his friend over the phone attached to the dash as Danny turned down the music.
The minute Danny laid eyes on his best friend on the screen over facetime all the emotions he had been holding back pushed their way through the wall he built.
It was good though, it was what he needed. He needed to get it all out before he pulled into the parking lot of his school and had to face Roy. No.
Mr Haylock.
From now on their relationship was strictly teacher/student. Nothing else.
He had decided that while taking a bath day 2 of his wallowing. It was too painful to return to school where he’d have to face his former love especially in the same place that he had found his love with the man he hated most in the world.
Raja Gemini. Fuck his real name, the less he knew of this queen the better.
He couldn’t continue his depression fueled mini vacation for too long though. His mom had caught on to his fake illness being well, fake, and forced him back to school after apparently one of his teachers called.
She even sweetend the deal by letting him use her car while she was away with Jerry for the weekend to a wedding for one of Jerry’s cousins or something. He honestly wasn’t paying attention.
Like an aimless zombie wandering through the house anything someone told him went in one ear and straight out the other thanks to his liquified brain.
He didn’t want to think, about anything. About school, about music, about weddings - everything led back to Roy. And Roy was the one topic too excruciatingly painful to ever think of.
“I can actually.” Danny retorted in a very ‘matter of fact’ tone pulling up to a stop sign.
“You know you’re just being a total cliched Libra and avoiding conflict right? But you’ll need to suck it up and just do it sooner or later.” Dammit why did Chris have to be right.
“He’s a Cancer.” Danny added softly hoping if he could change the topic to astrology Chris would let it go. Which he didn’t.
“So he’s feeling even more shitty than you then!”
“Maybe.” He was right. Again. “I’m hanging up on you.”
“Why? Because I’m totally right?” Chris shook his head with his lips pursed to the side in Danny’s usual chola manner.
“Totally.” He scoffed.
“What about a little bit of revenge?” Chris offered taking a big sip from the long skinny straw of his Starbucks.
Spoken like a true Sagittarius, if he was Chris he’d had already forgotten about Roy and moved on. Maybe he should think like a Sagittarius once in a while though? So what? Roy obviously didn’t care about him?
“Go on?”
“Yay.” Chris eagerly clapped his hands like an excited school girl. “Okay so you’re going with that Dan guy tomorrow night right?”
‘Ugh gross.’ He internally rolled his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“First of all, he got a nice ass?” Chris’ smile grew and he wiggled his eyebrows making Danny laugh for the first time in days.
“You’re such an ass whore! Oh my god!” He squealed before throwing a dirty look at someone in a red convertible cutting past him.
“Am not! Danny!” Chris’s smile fell into a very offended look as he drew Danny’s name out in a long whine. “I’m emotionally charged to their eyes. You know that I’m not like that.”
“She’s emotionally charged to that ass.”
“Whatever. Babe…it’s fucking obvious though. Maybe like flirt a little with Dan, make it look all cute with him and totally get back at Professor ‘two birds one dick’.”
He couldn’t, no way. He didn’t even like Dan he just exuded cockiness that was a total turnoff for anyone with eyes. No way.
And Roy…he couldn’t hurt Roy. Oh god, here comes that all too familiar heavy chest feeling. The pulling in his heart yearning for Roy causing his eyes to water up again.
He missed him. Life without him just felt so empty, so worthless.
He shook his dangerous downward spiral off and hung up on his friend blowing him a kiss first as pulled into a parking spot next to Aaron.
‘Fuck my life, fuck it hard.’ He sighed to himself spotting an all to familiar milky brunette standing with the others.
“You are so beautiful I could die, especially when you’re singing like ugh, your voice is just to die for.” Dan rambled on, trapping Danny with his arms on either side of his shoulders against his locker.
“Uh…thanks, man.” He nervously smiled. His mother raised him better, if you have nothing nice to say don’t say anything at all.
Oh but he really, really wanted to say something.
“Yeah like it just speaks to me you know.” Dan leaned his head down closer towards him, clearly not picking up on the obvious hint that he did not want to kiss him as he was backing up further into the painted metal locker.
“Like really, really speaks to me.” He breathed his disgusting warm breath against his lips sending icky chills down Danny’s spine right before their lips made contact.
‘Roy. Roy. Roy…’ The name kept repeating in his mind hoping if he chanted it enough he’d magically summon his knight in shining slacks.
Sure enough he did.
‘Oh no.’ His plan backfired when he suddenly saw how this would look from Roy’s perspective.
He had found Roy hugging his friend I mean that’s nothing compared to this right? One thing was for shit sure. Roy catching him pressed up against a locker with his hands tightly gripping each side of Dan’s jacket to try and push him off as Dan pressed his thigh between his legs definitely was not going to look good.
‘Roy.’ He tried silently calling him back when all the older man did was turn in another direction with an expressionless face. He could feel the tears bubbling up again from seeing the man he loved so hollow. ‘Roy, please.’
-
The drive there was such an unsure haze Roy was amazed he actually pulled into the right 7-11 parking lot or into a 7-11 at all. He must’ve broken at least 50 laws getting there but fuck it, he made it.
He saw Danny pacing with his arms crossed furiously clutching each side of the opposite bicep. Only taking a break from his pacing to take a long drag from his half burnt out cigarette.
“Daniel!” He jumped out of his car running towards him. “Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”
Before he got too close Danny spotted him, turning in his direction as what seemed like a well of never ending tears came flooding out. “Fuck you!”
“Yeah,” He snorted nodding. “You said that already what else is new?” Roy’s sorrow and fear was slowly turning into rage.
Why was he being this douche? This wasn’t like him at all, this wasn’t the Danny he knew or fell in love with. He wasn’t ever hostile, he was sweet and caring and sure he was feisty but at least within reason.
“Is that really why you called me here? To tell me to go fuck myself? Really queen?”
“No! It wasn’t.” Danny threw his cigarette away and stomped towards Roy, catching him off guard by grabbing hold of each side of his beautifully dimpled cheeks with his ice cold lanky fingers. His glossy hazel eyes staring directly into his soul. “I fucking hate you, I hate you Roy.”
“Then why call me.” Roy’s voice cracked, he was trying to put on the most put together facade all week but he couldn’t. He was a mess.
Even more now knowing that Danny, who had clearly moved on, was holding him like this for presumably the last time. Just this skin on skin contact he so longed for threw the armor he had built up right out the window.
“Because I was scared and alone and fucked up and the only person I wanted to be with was you…” Danny let go of him and turned, walking away from him to wipe his eyes with the back of his sleeve.
“Well you have a fucking hell of a way of showing it. It’s been a week and you won’t even answer my calls? What the fuck?”
What was this? Heartbreak? Anger? Loss? Everything crashing down on him all at once in such a muddled mess he couldn’t even recognize what he was feeling.
“Like you really even cared.”
Roy shook his head and turned around to head back to his car. Fuck this. Halfway to his escape he stopped dead in his tracks, he needed to know one last thing.
“Why didn’t you call…It. That thing you were sucking face with.” There it was. The last nudge that pushed him straight into blind rage.
He said it was such a strained voice that it completely rattled Danny’s entire world.
Clearly having struck a nerve Roy watched Danny’s pale expression turn bright red. “Oh! Oh! You’re one to fucking talk!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Open relationship remember. You know,” Danny pulled another cigarette somewhere out of his military jacket’s pocket. “You always do this, ever since the hotel room even, even before that you lead me on and then, of course because I’m so fucking stupid, I fall for you! And then you just break my heart moving on without ever really giving a fuck about me, huh?”
“You are fucking stupid, Danny!” Roy shouted at the top of his lungs, hoping it would make Danny’s bullshit ramblings stop so he could finally speak.
“Fuck you!” Danny screamed loud enough that probably even the family of four trying to eat their dinner in China heard. “And fuck Raja!”
“Raja? Raja!? This is about Raja!” He probably looked like a fucking lunatic when he suddenly threw his arms in the air in defeat as he started laughing. “Danny…Raja is even dumber than you are!”
“Oh thanks I feel so loved.” Danny rolled his eyes lighting the cigarette he just pulled out. “You’re so fucking selfish you know that? No wonder you’re alone…oh wait, you’re not! You have Raja! You’ve had Raja all along!”
“You ignorant fucking brat!” Roy took a step closer furiously gesturing with his hands ready to wrap his fingers around Danny’s pulsing neck.
“Tell me I’m wrong then! Tell me I wasn’t just some young side meat you wanted to use any way that suited you to cheer up your pathetic little life.”
‘This. Fucking. Bitch.’ Roy thought being left speechless simply standing there staring at him.
If only he knew how much his words were hurting him, how much every snarl was like an jab straight through his chest.
Actually he knew exactly how painful his words were, even saying them hurt Danny. Having to resort to yelling and screaming at the man he loved when the only thing he wanted to do was be held by him. It was killing him.
Rotting him slowly to the core, destroying everything left of him every time Roy clapped back.
“You are so fucking wrong!” He gave up with a sigh, dropping his hands defeatedly to his side. ”You want to know why? Get it in the car.” 
Roy walked back to his Mercedes opening the passenger side for Danny first and furiously pointing at the seat. “In, Noriega!”
‘Is he being serious? Get in his car? Fuck no.’ Danny continued his internal freak out.
Pondering if this was some kind of rouse to lure him into his car to pull a bad 80’s gangster movie inspired stint and drive him to a deserted location to murder him. Especially now after their little verbal sparring match.
Reluctantly Danny stomped to the car as if his boot clad feet had a of life of their own, mumbling something about hating his treacherous body for betraying him like this as he slumped into the elegant black car.
Roy’s hands holding the steering wheel with such a tight vice grip his tan knuckles turned white.
He should’ve known it would be Raja that was at the bottom of this mess wether he knew it or not.
He had to repeatedly remind himself of his friend’s good intentions and how he’d been there to help him otherwise he probably would’ve strangled him with as much ferocity as he was gripping his wheel.
If he had just fucking killed Raja like he had promised years ago, but no. He just had to grow a heart and give that little amazing, kind hearted weasel a chance to burrow himself a comfy little home.
“Raja! Raven!” Roy stormed in backstage, all the queens still at their tables painting their faces jumping up in unison like one fucked up Mexican wave when he threw the door open.
“Is everything okay? Where’s Danny? Is he…” Raja followed Roy’s pointing and spotted the awkward teen standing outside against the car’s door and ran towards him. “Danny! Hi! Listen I can completely explain everything, okay.”
“Why am I here?” Danny looked over to Roy with a very annoyed expression.
“Because you got into my car, despite your whole ‘I hate you’ speech. So It’s either because you want to kill him that badly or me. Which is it?”
“Neither…” Danny’s rage seemed to have dwindled and the teen was left looking down at his hands, fiddling with his nails’ chipped paint. “I didn’t, I told you I was alone and just needed you.”
Through his earlier rage blinding him Roy had completely missed all the signs. His disheveled make up that was running down his flushed cheeks, his brightly colored vomit stained pants, the bruised knuckles slowly turning blue and purple…
“It was your party.” He thought out loud. Roy’s harsh tone now gone as he hesitantly stepped closer, as if carefully approaching a wounded animal. “Danny…where’s Dan? What happened?”
“Chris didn’t show up like he was supposed to and…Dan, he’s been like really I don’t know. He’s super gross. He like stalked my YouTube page and he wanted to keep making out but never actually talk to me. So when he tried making a move earlier I punched him.” He shivered at the memory with his eyes still on his hand examining the bruising around his knuckles, flinching when he tried wiggling his little finger. “And then I called you.”
“Why me? Why if you hate me so much did you call me?” Roy was now right in front of him looking up into those beautiful, still puffy eyes.
“I don’t hate you.” He admitted with a croak before the tears from earlier resumed. “But you shouldn’t be with him. I hate you because you’re with him! Not me! It should be me!”
There it was. They say once you name something you give it power.
Now it made sense.
He had given his greatest fear the chance to escape and outed it to the world and now there was absolutely no going back. The realization that Roy was no longer his leaving him an empty shell of what he once was.
Roy stepped closer quickly grabbing he sobbing boy just as he collapsed into the same broken mess he had been just a day earlier.
Holding him tightly keeping said shattered shell together, his toned arms around him being the only comfort Danny would ever need again
“It is you. It’s only you, it’s never been anyone else but you…” Roy shushed him holding him tightly caressing his head with his fingers tangled between the messy dark brunette mop.
“But I saw…” He looked up at Raja, the incredibly tall queen still standing by the back door of the club clutching her pearls.
“But you didn’t think.” Raja intervened with an almost motherly voice.
“Raj,” Roy spoke up with the most composed tone he’s managed all night shaking his head. “Not now.”
Raja nodded with a faint smile and went back into the club, leaving the pair alone once again.
“Come on, back in the car.” Roy ordered reaching behind Danny to open the door for him.
-
“Alright. Let’s get you cleaned up first and then we’ll talk about this okay? Sound like a plan?” Roy clapped his hands together as if he was addressing his class.
He had brought Danny back to his apartment so they’d have a safe space to discuss everything, hopefully calmer than earlier.
At least if things did get as vocal as in the parking lot they wouldn’t have to worry about breaking anything, Roy already took care of that earlier and swept the proof under the rug.
“Yeah.” Danny nodded with a whisper. He was dead silent the whole ride home, not once even acknowledging Roy or where he was bringing him.
The older never even pushed him to open up either, instead he just held his shaking hand in his rubbing the back of it lazily with his thumb. He knew all to well that once you opened that flood gate and had to verbalize your feelings you had to relive them.
Even just thinking about the torment Danny must’ve been in to make that big of a scene nearly drove Roy down the same deep pit. He wouldn’t wish reliving that despair on anyone let alone the broken boy he loved with every fibre of his being.
“What time does your mother expect you home?” Roy looked at his watch.
“Out of town. A cousin’s wedding or something with my stepdad.”
“Alright then.” Roy nodded. He flicked on the small bathroom’s fluorescent light and all the memories of the first time they did this came flooding making his heart ache as soon as he hid. “Bath or shower?”
“Bath.” Danny cocked his head in the tub’s direction and took off his jacket as Roy turned to put the water on, being quicker than him though he stopped him by grabbing his hand. “Don’t.”
He wasn’t ready to be without Roy yet even just for a bath. He’d been without him far too long and he physically couldn’t take any more of it.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Roy smiled walking up to the young man who was drawing him closer by the hand.
When they were only an inch or two apart Danny leaned forward, cupping Roy’s ever so slightly stubbled face to pull him in for a very feeble, shakey kiss.
This was it. This was what he needed, what they both needed to finally ease all that anguish.
Slowly Roy’s hands found their way to Danny’s hips, pulling their bodies closer as the intensity of their kissing grew. Their lips parting to eagerly take in more of the other.
Danny’s hands snaked down from his face to the bottom of his tight grey shirt feeling at every inch of Roy’s flat stomach at they did, breaking their kissing for only a second as he flung it off over Roy’s head.
“I missed you…” He breathed into Roy’s mouth just as the older was repeating the same thing with his shirt.
“I missed you too, so much you don’t even know.” He quickly slid his hands into the back of Danny’s tights and into his briefs to feel down his round ass, pulling both his pants and his underwear down swiftly in the process as Danny guided them back.
His now more stable hands fidgeting between them working on unbuckling Roy’s jeans so he could finally be his again.
When Roy’s back hit the bathroom wall with a quiet thud he spun them around and reached for his medicine cabinet next to Danny’s head.
Danny, with his palm flattened against the wall, stretched his arm around taking Roy’s growing erection in his other hand becoming impatient as he jerked him off slowly through his boxers.
Roy’s hand, just as impatient as his partner’s, dug between the bottles and miscellaneous lotions while his mouth explored the back of Danny’s neck. Peppering gentle kisses along the smooth skin till he found the small half full bottle of lube.
Once he heard the pop of the plastic cap flicking open Danny clumsily hooked his fingertips into the waistband and slid Roy’s boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free. Roy wasted no time in squirting a heavy amount of thick clear lube onto himself. Meanwhile Danny reached the hand previously jerking him off up around to hold onto Roy’s neck, pulling his lips back against his skin as Roy lowered his knees to enter Danny easier.
With his hands on Danny’s somewhat curvy hips Roy gradually inserted himself into his tight young asshole. Hearing the low whimper escaping between gritted teeth from the younger pinned between him and the wall.
“Ow…ow ow.” Danny quickly bit his bottom lip to avoid the involuntary cries suddenly coming out of his mouth. He knew tensing up would make this unnecessarily more difficult than it needed to be but the ice cold lube unexpectedly against his entrance made him flinch, not helped that he had forgotten how much Roy actually stretched him.
Roy felt Danny’s body tensing up further, his asshole tightly clenching around him making entering him any further nearly impossible without hurting him. He quickly moved his hands to Danny’s chest. Holding onto his non-existent pecs feeling his heartbeat racing against his fingertips.
“Sh, I got you, baby.” He soothed Danny with another kiss on his neck till the younger relaxed, his hands joining Roy’s holding onto them as the older started his steady thrusting.
He could tell by the sincerity in his sweet nothings the older meant it - he had him and without hesitation he’d protect him as he had done so many times before.
A light bulb went off in the back of his muddled mind, illuminating the one thing that’s been so clear all along but hidden beneath layers and layers of doubt and fear.
“I love you…I love you…” Danny started softly chanting, breathing it out in time with every new thrust Roy made.
The three simplest words that he’d been yearning for finally spoken. Roy hadn’t anticipated what an earth shattering impact they’d have on him but here they were.
He knew without a shred of doubt he’d give up everything in a heartbeat for this boy, throw away everything he was just to hear those 3 words every day for the rest of his life.
Roy let go of Danny’s torso and with his hands on the wall each side of the younger he gradually pulled himself out.
Grabbing the condom that he’d forgotten from the tall box he accidentally knocked over earlier in his hunt for lube he spun Danny around.
Kissing him deeply as his hands trailed down his sides to his backside and with a firm grip on his soft cheeks he picked him up.
Not a good idea with his bruises but who cared, nothing in that moment mattered except Danny. It was all he could focus on. The love of his life he so nearly lost. Might still lose…
With Danny’s long legs wrapped around his waist as they walked down the hall to the bedroom they were already in the perfect position when Roy went to sit down on edge of the bed.
Muscle memory took over as he slipped the condom on as speedily as he could without needing to look while their lips remained locked. Hungrily searching for comfort in each other.
“I love you too…” Roy breathed out when Danny pulled back from their kissing, biting his lip again to avoid any involuntary responses slipping out this time he lowered back down onto Roy’s waiting cock.
Maintaining silent eye contact with his fingertips gently on either side of Roy’s jaw Danny started steadily rolling his hips. Each testing the other person’s declaration of love, waiting to see if either would run.
“I love you, Danny.” Roy repeated his words even fainter this time.
This was it, this was real. Roy really loved him. Courtney Love and Kurt Cobain real. Sid and Nancy real. Sacrificing himself without any hesitation real.
He loved Roy and Roy loved him. It was the only certainty between them.
With Danny’s fingers intertwined behind Roy’s neck, their kissing grew intenser, deeper as did their movements. Roy soon feeling down his back leaving a trail of goosebumps behind he reached down to hold onto his ass guiding his every steady move.
Nothing about there interactions were rushed or had the usual roughness of their previous encounters, they were smooth and intimate.
The gentle touches of their hands and lips lingering wherever they made contact, savoring this deeply personal cathartic moment.
Even when Danny picked up the pace of his hips, the slapping of their bodies and the crinkling of Roy’s pants still halfway down his thighs remained drowned out by their soft grunts and moans.
Their bodies saying everything they had hoped to say without either ever having to utter a single word.
Soon Danny’s head lifted exposing the tender flesh of his neck stained red from arousal, his lips pressed against Roy’s furrowed damp forehead. “More…please, give it to me…more.”
The hands gripping his ass moved back up and Roy’s arms snaked their way around his back, enveloping his small frame to pull them as close as physically possible.
His hips thrusting up faster to meet Danny’s now hurried riding, the moans escaping Danny’s lips growing more strained as the petite chest pressed against Roy’s rose and fell quicker.
Roy’s head nuzzled against Danny’s collarbone, biting into the delicate, tender flesh to muffle his grunting. This was definitely going to leave a mark but so be it, let it. Let the world know that he was his.
“…oh…shi…” Danny’s body starting trembling in Roy’s grip, a hot load of cum shortly after following shooting out between them onto Roy’s chest. The sticky, pale white liquid leaking down his body to the bruise around his gut.
Roy eased up on his hips’ movements to allow Danny to ride his orgasm out at his own pace but the younger never let up.
“Don’t stop…” He breathed out “…more…”
Ceasing his teeth’s gnawing into his collar Roy moved his lips up to trial kisses up his lover’s pulsing, heated neck to his jaw. The tenderness in which his lips worked a striking contrast to harshness of his black nails digging into Danny’s sides.
The grip of Danny’s skinny arms still around his neck growing tighter with every smack of their bodies as did the coil in his abdomen.
This was how Roy wanted to die, right here lost in Danny’s arms forever.
“Baby…” Roy warned and Danny picked up the pace for him, increasing the intensity in which he rode him to bring him closer to his desperately needed release.
“…give it to me, babe.” Danny encouraged.
With a final deep, almost painful groan Roy climaxed, clinging as tightly possible onto the body between his arms scared of falling apart if he did.
-
“Sorry.” Danny finally spoke when Roy climbed into the white porcelain bathtub sitting down behind him.
They were seated in the deliciously warm water that filled the tub to the brim with bubbles. Roy behind Danny against the back of the tub with Danny securely between his legs leaning forward with his hands resting under the water on his shins.
“For?” Roy asked putting his messily tangled hair into a bun at the top of his head, wiping away any stray strands of hairs to kiss along the small hickey forming on his neck.
“Everything I said…” Danny looked down ashamed of what he shouted during their fight, lifting his hands to now run them up and down along Roy’s spread thighs on either side of him.
He felt mortified that they ever even had such an argument, it was good to get everything out and in the open but not like that. Not in that ugly manner.
“Don’t be.” Roy’s hands slid down Danny’s shoulders to the ones on his thighs. “I don’t blame you, I deserved it. You had your heart broken because I’m an actual fucking idiot and you’re right, I was selfish.”
The guilt of everything he’d put the younger through with his overthinking slowly gnawing away at him forcing him to face his greatest fear, himself, and apologize. Swallowing every last bit of pride he had to do it.
“You weren’t.” Danny shook his head.
“No I was. I shouldn’t have just been so quick to dismiss you because of my own stupid insecurities, I should’ve listened. If I had known earlier that those idiots tried that shit I wouldn’t have asked you to leave like that.” As he spoke Danny leaned back, his back now against Roy’s well toned chest and his head in his shoulder. The skin on skin contact even more soothing than the water. “I did want you to stay, I really did, but I didn’t want you to be miserable here with me when you’d rather be with your friends.”
“Fuck my friends.” Danny scoffed, titling his head back so he could look up at Roy asking silently for a small kiss.
“You don’t mean that.” Roy rested his temple against Danny’s when his head returned to it’s previous spot in the nook of Roy’s collar.
“I do. Jay heard Dan likes me and invited him to my party, but he thought getting invited was some kind of, like, I don’t know…me asking him out and then Chris told me to give you a taste of your own medicine and fucking show him off or something.” He scrunched his face up in disgust at the memory. “So fuck them all, hope they all get some kind of STD.”
Roy laughed at his shady ass comment and wrapped on arm under Danny’s arm to drape it over his chest with his hand on Danny’s shoulder like a seatbelt shielding him from any further harm. Physical or emotional.
“Alright then. Where even is this great Chris? You said he didn’t show?”
Danny trailed his hand along the arm over him to distract himself as the sudden intense longing for his friend hit him.
“He didn’t, his grandma got sick and he’s super attached so he stayed behind.” He hooked the fingers of his other hand between Roy’s and lifted their now clasped together hands, examining his bruised knuckles. “Dan…”
“Milk.” Roy interrupted. Fuck he hated that kid. He wasn’t worthy of the same name as his love or anything better than the absurd nickname he had dubbed him. “Fuck him too, he can get an especially nasty STD.”
“Asshole.” Danny laughed, making Roy’s heart flutter. “He’s such a gross ass kisser though. He fucking tried to grope me, man. So I punched his ass.”
“Atta boy!” Roy praised proudly and brought the clasped together hands to his lips to gave each purple and red knuckle a gentle kiss careful to not hurt him. “But this might be fractured, I’ll take you to the doctors tomorrow if it’s worse.”
“Okay.” Danny sighed. Time to face the inevitable. Like a bandaid. “So what’s the deal with you and Raja, honestly? Why did you take me to see him?”
“Oh that.” Roy laughed. “I actually wanted to introduce you to Raven, you remember her right? About Raja’s height, tan, heavy ass make up with that silicone face.”
“Yeah I think so why?” Danny thought back to their New York trip together where he met a Raven.
Roy raised their hands up in front of Danny’s confused face again and playfully wiggled his ring finger. “That’s his husband you dumb bitch.”
“Oh…” Danny felt his cheek growing every shade of red imaginable and started sinking lower into the warm bubbly water. It was the only alternative to hiding his head in the dirt from embarrassment like an ostrich who was just caught with his pants down.
Roy picked up on his attempted evasiveness and pulled him back up laughing at his cartoonish blushing face.
He swaddled Danny with both his arms now around his chest, even the one still holding onto his. “You’re so precious when you’re all stupid.”
“Hey.” Danny pouted looking up at him again, his heart dropping when he saw Roy’s expression falling again.
“He actually tried going after you too to apologize for him and Shane giving you the dad speech to try and scare you.”
“They did?” Danny got a sinking feeling in his chest for not seeing through their tough guy act from the beginning. If he had this whole situation could’ve been avoided. He was usually so in tune with people’s energies why did he miss it?
“What you thought you saw at school was Raja feeling like horse shit and coming back to apologize for what he did after I cut him off.”
The memory of Danny’s upset face when he looked up at them flashing through his mind’s eye.
“You did? Why?”
“They were trying to be smart asses and instead they ended up hurting you. I don’t want anyone in my life who’s going to hurt you regardless of who they are.” Roy’s voice got low.
Danny stretched his neck up to kiss Roy as a thank you, like a princess kissing a knight after he rescued her from some great evil.
This guy really genuinely cared about him. How that was even reality absolutely stunned Danny. “I love you.”
Roy’s face lit up at the words, the way he said them in his sweet voice only adding to the butterflies in his stomach.
“I love you too.” He returned the kiss with another drawn out one. “And don’t worry I don’t think they’ll try it again.”
He reached for the hamper next to them with the grey bottle of body wash Danny had bought him on it.
“They won’t?” Danny rested his head back in it’s spot and kissed Roy’s neck.
“Nope.” Roy splashed some of the warm water over Danny’s chest before squirting the soapy charcoal colored liquid onto him. “Totally kicked their asses.”
“Legit.” Danny nodded impressed with Roy defending his honor so gallantly. Purring as Roy’s hands went about massaging the soap onto his skin. “Can I stay the night?”
Roy smiled kissing his temple. “Sure, baby.”
-
“Hey. Can I go through your music?”
“Yeah, sure.” After their bath and impromptu make out session as they were drying off Danny’s stomach starting growling uncontrollably loud.
Thus Roy promptly went to work making them each something to eat as the younger explored the house.
“What happened to your tv?” Danny shouted from the living room while Roy was reading the instructions on the back of a frozen pizza box he found in his freezer.
“Uh…nothing.” He panicked.
‘I broke it.’ He thought remembering how he threw one of his books at it in a fit of rage over seeing Danny with another.
“Mh-hm.” Danny came back into the kitchen a moment later with his lips pursed and the slow piano intro of Placebo’s Running Up That Hill following him.
Roy turned on the oven to preheat it and turned back to Danny walking over to him just in time for him to come up to him surprising him with a hug. Holding onto him tightly with his chin on his shoulder.
It doesn’t hurt me. Do you want to feel how it feels? Do you want to know that it doesn’t hurt me? Do you want to hear about the deal that I’m making?
There were no words, just the couple embracing each other tightly making up for lost time as the song continued playing around them.
With everything now explained calmly thanks to the relaxing high of both their amazing moment of intimacy and the long hot bath things could go back to normal.
Not entirely normal. After declaring their love for each other probably nothing would ever be normal again.
That was a future Roy’s problem to deal with though. The absolutely only concern on present Roy’s mind was engraining every little detail of their domestic bliss with his arms around the guy he loved swaying to a song he loved into it.
It was as if the man he was 48 hours ago no longer existed, Danny had completely stripped every fear, every worry, every negative thought from his mind and replaced it with images of them laughing like children wrapped in towels making bubble beards.
His doctor had been right, he might’ve been talking about his bruises but it fit the context so let’s go with it.
It had to get worse before it could get better.
And sure when things did get worse they were just plain disastrous, I’m talking hurricane Katrina level disastrous. Nonetheless in the end it was all worth it a million times over.
You, it’s you and me. And if I only could, I’d make a deal with God, And I’d get him to swap our places, Be running up that road, Be running up that hill, Be running up that building… “Roy?” Danny finally spoke interrupting his peaceful thoughts.
“Hm?”
You don’t want to hurt me, But see how deep the bullet lies. Unaware I’m tearing you asunder…
“I’m dropping out…”
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