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britishboystm · 3 years

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The Goodbye Prank | The Day We Met: A Fred Weasley Mini Series

Inspired by:

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ (minors dni), oral f receiving, fingering, unprotected vaginal penetration, swearing, lots and lots of crying, deep hand cuts, angst!!

WC: 7k+

Chapter Summary: The boys are ready to move on to bigger and better things. What happens when Y/N finds out?

Series Masterlist

***

March 13th, 1996

“Hold still.” Y/N spoke sternly as Fred jerked his hand away from her, wincing in pain.

George was pacing back and forth in the background, glancing over at the couple every so often, anger filling his entire being.

She had really gone and done it this time. That poor excuse for a professor.

“Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous.” Y/N seethed through gritted teeth as she concentrated on the task at hand.

“It really isn’t that big of a deal Y/N. It’ll heal on its own.” Fred cried out, not wanting his brother and girlfriend to worry about him.

“No, Fred you don’t understand! That bitch has gone too far this time. Detention is one thing... but this,” She placed a drop of alcohol on the plethora of cuts, making Fred cry in pain. Tears welled his eyes and he kept his lower lip beneath his teeth to quiet himself.

He didn’t want to be a bother.

“This is abuse, she can’t keep getting away with this!” She continued to rant.

“Y/N darling,” He spoke assuringly, slipping his hand away from her tending grasp and placing it on her cheek to calm her down. His eyes were soft and pleading for her to settle.

“She will never hurt me. This is temporary, but she will never truly hurt me.” A tear slipped out of her eye. She couldn’t help but feel that this was all her fault, that she was the reason he had gotten detention in the first place.

The day before, Y/N and Fred had been snogging in a dark corner near the restricted section in the library, and while she was doing her daily lurking, Umbridge came across the couple, threatening punishment immediately.

Before she could get a hold of both of them, Fred pushed Y/N away, demanding for her to run back to her dorm.

He himself hadn’t had the time to escape which led to him getting captured by Umbridge’s evil clutches, even if she only stood at a whopping four foot eleven.

So here he was, bleeding from the hand, all thanks to that pink toad's “special” quill.

In Fred’s chicken scratch writing, his hand read;

I will not coerce with mudbloods.

It had been speculated since she began “teaching” at Hogwarts that she was secretly a death eater. This was strong evidence to support said claim.

“This is all my fault.” Y/N murmured, making both twins shoot their heads up in surprise.

“Godric no! Y/N never say that again! I don’t care what it takes to keep you safe. And I also don’t care about your blood status. You are kind and smart and beautiful and a brilliant witch.” His words were full of hurt, hurt that she would think that of herself.

Fred knew Y/N was self conscious of the fact that she wasn’t raised in a wizarding household. That she had to work twice as hard to be where she was in terms of her studies, all because she had to play catch up with her classmates. It took a toll on her and Fred knew this. George knew this. Everyone knew this.

“I’m sorry Freddie I ju-,” He quickly grabbed her cheeks and kissed her to shut her up.

“Just heal my hand love.” He muttered against her lips.

George looked away, feeling like an intruder during a very personal moment.

“Alright.” She sighed out with a soft giggle and sniffle, resting her forehead against his. He soothed her further with a tender caress of her hands. Something she had grown to appreciate deeply.

“Vulnera Sanentur.” She finally spoke, slightly moving her wand and watching as the venomous words began to vanish from his skin.

“Thank you.” He sighed in relief, feeling the pain dissipate with every passing second.

“You’re welcome Freddie.”

April 2nd, 1996

It was the day of the OWL examinations and Fred and George had only one thing on their mind.

Revenge.

After a quidditch incident in which they knocked Malfoy off of his broom for speaking badly about their mother, Umbridge had made the biased decision to ban the twins from ever playing again. And then on top of that, she confiscated their brooms.

Then it was detention for Dumbledore’s Army along with two of his brothers, his sister, his girlfriend and a bunch of his friends and classmates.

Then he and George got in trouble with Umbridge once again for consoling a crying first year who had been a victim to her cruel and unethical detention practices.

Expulsion was a given for what they were about to do. But they didn’t care.

The boys had decided that after Umbridge ruined everything that was good about Hogwarts (e.g, Dumbledore's Army and Quidditch), education was no longer a beneficial part of their lives. Instead, using the money Harry had so graciously given them from his Triwizard earnings, they decided to finally jump ship and start a joke shop in Diagon Alley. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes they would call it.

Now all that was left was what they considered to be their most brilliant prank yet.

And this was where Y/N came into the picture.

The three of them strolled down a corridor towards the great hall where Professor Umbridge was administering the OWL examination for the fifth year students.

Y/N was more than happy to help the boys with their prank, often being used as a siren for their sneaky schemes. She didn't, however, know the exact reason for this prank.

She didn’t know this was goodbye.

Fred and George drew a blank when trying to figure out how to tell Y/N about their plans for the future. It killed Fred to think that this could possibly mean leaving his girlfriend behind, even if it had been a dream of his and George’s for so long to start the biggest pranking empire the wizarding world had ever seen.

So while the twins spent weeks and weeks planning their departure, Fred also tried to think of ways to ask Y/N to go with them and leave Hogwarts for good.

Finally at the entrance of the great hall, they quickly went over the plan in secret whispers. Y/N then waited for her cue to enter the large space to create the much needed distraction.

With a tap on the shoulder, Fred and George gave Y/N the go ahead to start her one woman show. She let out a shake of nerves and ran in, coming to a complete stop at Umbridge's feet at the front of the hall.

“There are OWL examinations happening in this room. What is the meaning of this?” Umbridge spoke in a rather agitated but sickly sweet tone.

“There’s a few students playing around with banned Weasley products outside in the halls Professor. Causing a real disruption.” Umbridge clenched her fists. She couldn’t stand the twins.

All eyes were on Y/N. Most students knew she was Fred’s girlfriend so it was quite amusing to see the confusion on their faces.

Umbridge would have also seen through the act if she hadn’t been currently seething to the core.

“Right well, lead me to them Ms L/N.” She said tugging at the bottom of her pink tweed blazer. Y/N nodded, beginning to walk ahead of Umbridge towards the entrance, all the while, giving the boys the countdown for their surprise.

At one, Y/N noticed a gleam in the twins' eyes as Fred tossed a Whiz-bang right in front of Umbridge’s nose. Y/N quickly got out of the way as the Whiz-bang began to wreak its havoc. Umbridge yelped and screeched as she tried to outrun the now fully formed dragon that had emerged from the sparks. The professor was no match for Fred and George Wealsey, that was for certain.

As everything began to escalate, Fred and George mounted their confiscated brooms with conviction.

Fred took a moment to look over at his beaming girlfriend before placing a quick reassuring peck on her lips. The boys then pushed off the ground and zipped through the large room, their hoots and hollers of adrenaline trailing behind them.

Students cheered as examination papers floated about, all caused by the gusts of wind from the speed of the boys brooms. Then once enough students had gathered on to the balcony, the letter W appeared in the sky in the form of fireworks. It stood proudly amongst the clouds that it almost brought a tear to Y/N’s eye. These boys were legends.

It was quite spectacular to say the least.

———

Later that night, Y/N laid awake, feeling slightly concerned about the twins. Neither one of them had contacted her to say where they were or when they would be back.

Feeling uneasy, Y/N pushed her dark maroon sheets off of her body and headed towards the window hoping to see any sign of the twins returning.

Nothing.

She let out a shaky sigh but became startled when she heard a quiet thump behind her.

Once she quickly spinned around she noticed the outline of her boyfriend standing in the darkness, with just a splash of moonlight cascading over his face. Even in the shadow she knew which twin she was dealing with.

“Fred!” She whispered through a smile before jumping from the window seal and running over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her with a tightness that she had never felt from anyone else. It was almost as though if he were to let go she would simply slip away into nothing. She frowned over his shoulder and pushed back from the hug to look into his eyes, hoping to find all of the answers to the questions she had in them.

“Fred?” She asked, beginning to notice that sick stomach feeling again within her.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you.” His tone was stern and pointed.

She felt an inkling as to what this was all about.

“Fred don’t worry, If Umbridge tries to expel you I’m sure Dumbledore can override it, right?” His expression didn’t shift.

“Right?” She repeated with an unsure tone, starting to think that the worry of expulsion wasn’t why he was here. The flips and turns in her gut became more and more alive. She could hear her heart beating in her ears. Why wasn’t he saying anything god dammit?

“Did something happen Freddie?” Her voice was shaky, almost as if she couldn’t trust it.

“I need to talk to you about something. Something important that could change the rest of our lives.” Y/N could sense his nervousness from a mile away.

“Bloody hell Fred this doesn’t make me feel good.” He quickly placed a hand on her cheek to calm her nerves. She instinctively leaned into his calloused palm.

“Before you say anything, let me explain and then you can tell me what you think.”

“I’m thinking that the other girls will wake up if we don’t have this conversation somewhere else.” He finally looked at their surroundings noticing the other bodies sleeping soundly within the room.

“Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the dark dorm and down to the undisturbed common room.

“You’re scaring me Fred. Tell me what’s going on.” She watched him closely as he paced back and forth, clearly thinking about what to say next.

“George and I are leaving.”

“Not if Dumbledore has anything to say about it.” She responded, still very much left in the dark. Fred released a sigh and sat her down on one of the couches. The crackling fire filled the tense void between the two lovers.

“No, Y/N, we are leaving tonight. Getting away from Umbridge, from Hogwarts. We have a storefront in Diagon Alley that we are going to turn into the most wicked joke shop any witch or wizard has ever seen.” Y/N’s face was unreadable.

“Freddie the prank is over now. You don’t need t-” She said with a nervous laugh which he cut off.

“Y/N I’m serious. I know it’s hard to believe, but this time I need you to trust me. We are leaving Hogwarts, for good. George and I are going to be creating one of the biggest wizarding enterprises ever…. and, I want you to come with us…. with me.”

Y/N pulled her hands away from Fred’s. The skin on her neck crawled.

“Fred I- I don’t know what to say.” Her breathing began to quicken. She was panicking. She couldn’t just leave. She had friends, an education, a life here at Hogwarts.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. I just need you to know that I love you and this doesn’t mean that I want us to end.” She shook her head repeatedly, wiping away the tears streaming down her face.

Fred grabbed her cheeks and pushed his lips against hers. He could feel the salty wetness from her eyes transfer from her skin to his, and it broke his heart into a million pieces knowing that he was the cause of it.

Y/N wanted to push him away so badly. He had made the choice to walk away from everything that they had built together. How could she ever forgive him? Instead of conveying this to him, she moved to straddle his lap. He leaned against the back of the couch and placed his hands on her hips, holding on for dear life.

“Please.” He whispered.

She didn’t respond but rather pushed herself deeper against him, slightly grinding her hips.

“I’m sorry.” Was all she said, in a soft shaky tone. They both knew what she was apologizing for.

They took a moment to just look at one another.

Y/N then spoke before she had time to think her words through,

“Show me you really mean what you say. Show me that you truly love me. Show me before you go and forget all about me.” Tears flowed between the two of them.

“I could never forget you.” He said in a hurt whisper. Her eyes trailed down to their connected laps in shame, embarrassed that she was making a huge selfish fuss over his plans of a brighter future. Fred took her face in his hands and made sure to really get a good look at her before swiftly laying her flat on her back against the couch.

“Is this alright?” He asked while softly stroking her thigh. She let out a trapped sigh and nodded as she shimmied herself further into the cushions. Fred gave her a melancholy smile before leaning in and enveloping her mouth with his.

Immediately they began to collectively moan as Fred grazed his hand up and down Y/N’s goose fleshed skin and her clothed pubic bone pushed up against his sensitive groin. Just the feeling of his light feather touch had her trembling to his every will. Once he felt that her legs had gotten enough attention, he removed his lips from hers and moved his hands from her thighs as he looked down at her with a face filled with care and worry.

“Is this okay?” He asked.

His fingers were creeping up her inner thigh and past the fabric of her cotton pyjama shorts. She nodded with a soft hum of approval. She bit down on her swollen bottom lip as he began to circle her clit with his middle and index fingers. Then her hand shot up to grab his forearm at the same time as her legs tensed up with pleasure.

“Please Freddie, m-more.” She whined while using her hand to dictate his speed and movements against her sensitive centre.

Fred watched in amazement as his girlfriend laid submissively beneath him, her hair sprawled out as she shimmed and jerked about, all because of his large strong hand that was currently between her legs.

They had never had sex before. The two of them had talked about it a great deal throughout their relationship, but because they spent so much of their time surrounded by friends during school and family during the holidays, it was difficult to ever get a moment to do so.

Fred never really cared about getting caught or the idea of a quicky. He was Fred Weasley after all. Any way he could feel her skin against his was ideal. Y/N on the other hand, had always wanted her first time to be something meaningful. She wanted it to be thought out, where they wouldn’t be distrubed and could have all the time in the world to express their love for one another.

So never once did Fred imagine that this was how the night would end. In the middle of the warmly lit common room where any insomnia stricken student could walk in unannounced.

Fred wanted her to drop everything. He wanted her to follow in his footsteps. But she was her own person, and she had to make her own choices, no matter how much it pained him. At the very least they were able to say their goodbyes by finally giving themselves to each other, whole heartedly.

“I’m going to put a finger in. Is that alright?” He asked softly in her ear, intentionally making it so his mouth hovered close to her neck. She shivered at the feeling of his breath rolling off of her skin.

“Yes Freddie, more than alright.” She was his to take, anyway he wanted.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it, okay love?” She nodded lightly, completely under his spell.

Fred detached his fingers from her hypersensitive bundle and slowly dragged them down to swirl around the wetness that had formed at her entrance. Once she was fully prepped by his digit, he slipped his index finger inside of her. Even with one digit, he could tell just how tight she was.

“Merlin, you’re so fucking tight.” He groaned out his inner thoughts before attacking her neck again with a plethora of horny kisses.

Her jaw slacked open in pleasure and her back arched off of the sticky fabric beneath her. His methodical breathing gave her a pace in which she could thrust herself against his finger.

Fred noticed her clench and speed up her hips movements. Not wanting her to finish so quickly, he slowly pulled his finger out of her warmth, resulting in a whine escaping her lips.

“Freddie, come back. Please!” She cried out, reaching out for him. Instead of giving in to her (no matter how badly he wanted to), he slipped off of the couch and got onto his knees in front of her. Y/N sat up and faced him, looking like the goddess Venus herself.

“Off, darling.” He finally said before tugging at the waistband of her shorts. Y/N happily obliged by lifting her hips up and letting him pull the shorts past the curvature of her bum and down her legs to the floor.

“Can you open up for me darling?’ He asked gently, caressing her knees in a circular motion. Y/N adjusted herself in her seated position, the sound of the leather couch filling their ears as she shifted her hips. She then took a deep inhale before slowly opening her legs more and planting her feet far apart from each other. The draft of the room hit her, making her clench her toes for a moment.

Fred’s face heated up as he took in her glistening inner thighs and centre.

“Absolutely stunning love, really.” He bashfully admitted while stroking her spread apart thighs.

This was not the Fred Wealsey that everyone else knew. The crazy, careless prankster who had everyone wrapped around his finger. The Fred Weasley who constantly told innapropriate jokes and boasted about his pranking achievements along with his party animal ways. As he sat there on his knees, between his girlfriends legs, he came to the conclusion that he was the one wrapped around her finger. He was nothing more than a desperate boy who was hopelessly in love with the girl above him.

“All yours Freddie.” Her voice was like sweet red velvet cake getting sliced into on a warm late spring afternoon. Fred let out a soft groan in response to her inviting words before pushing himself forward slightly, preparing himself to attach his lips to her core. He slowly tilted his head to the side, allowing himself full access. His stomach contracted and he squeezed his thighs together, trying to keep the ache in his trousers at bay.

Once he was able to somewhat pull himself together, he placed a gentle kiss to her clit, resulting in her hole clenching and her hips abruptly bucking forward. She grabbed his short red locks in the process and looked down at him through half lidded eyes.

“Look at me baby.” She whispered seductively. His soft brown irises slowly shifted up along her gorgeous welcoming figure to meet her eyes, a clouded look of lust filling them. Now giving her his full attention, Fred moved on from the light kisses he was administering to fully lapping up her arousal with a new found confidence.

“Fuck.” She groaned out while jutting her hips forward and threading her fingers through his hair harshly. He sighed in contentment as he continued to watch his girlfriend unravel above him. All because of his tongue.

And once more, right before she could finish, Fred removed his mouth from her core, wetness covering most of his lower face, chin and all. Before he could make any witty comments about how spent she looked, Y/N grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up onto the couch to lay on top of her.

His shoulders rose and fell as he panted, still catching his breath from devouring her seconds ago. His covered torso pressed against hers and they could both feel each other's hearts racing, keeping in time with one another.

“Stay with me. Just for a bit.” She pleaded quietly, sadness evident in her voice and tears sitting in the lower waterline of her eyes. Fred immediately sat up and watched her lay deeper along the couch before straddling her waist. He then unzipped his striped sweater, throwing it behind him absentmindedly. Y/N looked up at the red headed boy on top of her with so much love and admiration, moving her hands up and down his clothed chest and stomach. Fred then pulled off his t-shirt, exposing his bare upper body.

Feeling absolutely feral from seeing his lightly freckled porcelain chest, Y/N yanked Fred down by the neck to press their lips together. Most of the time when they kissed, it would be fairly contained and sweet. Now was not one of those times. Teeth clashed and tongues swirled freely making the kiss messy, sloppy and feverish.

Wanting even more contact, Fred pulled one of his hands out from behind Y/N’s head and tucked it under the button up lounge top she had on. She let out a small gasp as he began messaging one of her breasts. He couldn’t go another second without having them exposed and ready for his tender touch.

Quickly sitting up again, Fred started to unbutton the fabric with shaky hands, prominent pants of lust coming from his throat. Noticing him struggling, Y/N anxiously placed her hands over his and started helping him with the buttons.

Once the final button was undone, Y/N’s supple breasts were finally exposed. The cool air caused her nipples to harden and once Fred had fully taken them in, he brought himself down to her chest, sucking on the flesh happily.

Needy for more of him, Y/N dragged her hand down his stomach, stopping at the buckle of his belt. With a few aggressive tugs of the hand me down leather, Fred brought his hand down to help her unbuckle it, gently grazing her hand in the process.

Once the belt was removed, Y/N feverishly pulled at the zipper of his trousers. She was able to achieve the action on her own fairly quickly and began to feel around his lower section, putting her hand past the elastic band of his striped boxers. When she felt his hardened dick, a multitude of somersaults awoken within her. She was hoping somersaults wouldn’t be the only thing she would feel her gut that night.

She took him in her hand, making sure not to grip his aching member too harshly. He bucked forward and closed his eyes, letting out the most beautiful sound that had ever graced Y/N’s ears. Seeing her effect on the older boy had her stroking him faster and faster. Precome from his red tip began to seep between her fingers.

“Yes, yes!” He let slip out with a gasp, digging his face into her neck. She then slipped her hand out from his boxers and trousers, not letting him finish. It was a small act of defiance for doing the same to her earlier.

He whined quietly, nuzzling his nose further into her skin, begging for any kind of release.

“Lift up love.’ She said sweetly, which he did with very little objection. Her arms came around his waist and she pushed his trouser and boxers down more, giving her a full view of his arse as she looked over his shoulder from where she laid. She couldn’t help but stare.

Getting frustrated with the inconvenience of the material, Fred kicked off his shoes and used his feet to push the constrictive material off his lower half completely, including his socks.

Y/N and Fred were now fully naked and exposed.

“Fred, I need you in me.” Y/N begged, desperate for the feeling of being filled up by the boy above her. Fred brought himself up further on to his elbows and tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear.

“Yeah?” He asked, needing her to be one hundred percent sure that this was what she wanted.

“Yeah.” She responded, eyes full of wonder. He couldn’t deny her what she wanted, especially when she gave him that look.

He moved his gaze down to his swollen member that was just barely hovering over her pubic bone. With a steady grip, he jerked himself a couple times to bring up a bead of precome before shifting slightly, laying the tip of his length against her lower lips.

Looking up one more time for confirmation, he was met with a soft expression on her face and her hand stroking his hair gently, giving him a sense of reassurance.

That was all he needed to continue.

He moved forward, looking down to watch his aching length disappear past the folds of her pulsing centre.

The feeling made him release a shaky breath and he laid himself flush against her naked chest, knowing deep down that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up for much longer even if he tried. Y/N hissed when he slowly pushed himself further and further inside of her, his member dragging against her contracting walls. To ease the pain she gripped onto his toned freckles biceps. All those years of swinging his beater bat could be felt underneath her fingertips.

“Freddie,” She cooed, indicating that the pain had started to subside. Her soft words sent sharp bolts of energy through his scalp and all the way down to the soles of his feet. The sensation made him want to move instead of this agonizing stillness they were currently in.

“Ca-can I-I m-move? Fuckin’ ‘ell, can I please move?” He begged, shakiness laced within his words.

“Yeah.” She whispered, tightening her grip on the roots of his hair. He groaned at the tugging sensation and began retracting his hips, watching Y/N tense and hiss as he did so. He waited a moment and then pushed forward again, watching as she let out a prominent sigh, releasing all of the stiffness she was holding. His thrusts were small, only moving slightly back and forth so she could get used to the feeling. Every once and a while she would let out these little mewls that made him want to snap his hips. But he had to have restraint.

For her sake.

It was as if she had read his mind because as he continued his methodically shallow pace, Y/N finally spoke up through her moans.

“More Freddie. I need more.” He lifted his head from the cozy spot he had created upon her chest to look her in the eye.

“Are you sure?’ The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

“Christ Freddie, you’re being too gentle! Please just fuck me like you mean it!”

He was dumbfounded by her words. Her begging and pleading awoke something within him and he went to grab her thigh, placing it against his hip. He then set his forehead against hers making sure their eyes stayed connected.

“Like this?” He asked confidently with a tinge of a smirk as he began to roll his hips hard against hers. She let out a loud whine and nodded before looking down to their connected bodies, biting her lip as he continued to slowly and deeply fuck into her the best way he could.

“Yeah just like that.” She responded softly, rubbing her hand along his toned and flexed upper back.

Moans and pants filled the room. Y/N was fully laid back, pulling Fred down with her. With their bodies so intimately entangled, Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing her heels against his tailbone, allowing for a new angle to emerge. He was now hitting her g-spot in this position, though she didn’t know that. To her it just felt euphoric.

It just felt right.

After a while she made it so she was fully wrapped around him when she flung her arms around his neck, clinging to him almost as though she were a koala.

“Oh my merlin, you f-f-feel so fu-fucking amazing Fred!” All he could respond with were low grunts of pleasure.

Fred began to quicken his pace when he started to feel his orgasm creep up like a distant sneeze. This had Y/N holding on to him for dear life, also feeling her own climax slowly approaching.

“I-I think I’m go-going to cum.” He spoke in broken words.

“Me too.” She replied through a gasp, gripping onto his shoulder blades that tensed up every time he pushed forward into her now overly sensitive core.

After a few more deep and needy thrusts, Fred began to pull his hips back so he could finish on Y/N’s stomach.

“No.” She breathed out, tightening the grip she had on him, digging her heels deeper into his sweaty lower back. He looked down at her with a confused but blissed out expression, still thrusting sporadically.

“Finish inside me, so I still have a part of you with me when you leave.” He stopped, completely caught off guard by her words. She wanted him to stay with her that badly. It killed him inside, especially as he watched a single tear run down her flushed cheek.

“If that’s okay.” She continued, beginning to retract into herself. She started to think that she had made him uncomfortable and had ruined the moment with her loose words. She covered her face in embarrassment, wishing she could disappear. It would be difficult though with Fred still very much buried inside of her.

Y/N was about to apologize for stepping out of line when she felt him begin to thrust into her with more vigour than before. She took her hands off of her eyes to see Fred concentrating heavily, his face turning into a light shade of red.

“ ‘m close. Gonna fill you up so well love.” Her heart swelled at his words. He was going to do it.

“Fuck, me too Freddie.” With a few more passionate and hard thrusts and a plethora of I love you’s, Fred let out a guttural groan while sloppily painting her jaw with wet, salvia ridden kisses. Then he finally spilled his seed deep inside of her. She gripped on to him roughly, jutting up against his now partly soft member as her legs shook along with her orgasm.

Fred could watch her do that all day.

They had both mostly come down at this point as Fred collapsed on top of Y/N, their sweaty bodies finding a perfect rhythm through their erratic breaths and heartbeats. No words were spoken. Instead they stared off into space, finding a sense of peacefulness in their collective blissed out state. Only the crackling fire made itself known.

Amongst all this, Y/N drew hearts over Fred’s naked back absentmindedly with her fingers. He had almost fallen asleep at her soothing touch. It was what he would miss the most. The silent recognition of love that the two of them shared.

“Freddie?”

He hummed in response, far too gone at that point to give her a coherent sentence.

“I hate that I’m asking you this but, when are you leaving?” Fred’s eyes widened and he quickly shot up to check the time.

It was one-thirty in the morning. He was supposed to meet George at the front entrance half an hour earlier.

“Shit!” He yelled as he jumped up and ran around the common room, resembling a chicken with its head cut off. He frantically collected his clothes that were scattered on the floor.

“Get dressed and grab some shoes.” He said while hopping around, attempting to get his long lower limbs through the leg holes of his trousers. Y/N didn’t ask any questions as she quickly slipped her pyjamas back on and rushed upstairs to grab an old Gryfindor sweater her aunt passed down to her, along with a pair of worn in white converse.

Once she made it back down to the common room, Fred was lacing up his shoes. He must have heard her come down because once she got to the bottom of the stairs he looked up at her from his crouched position, watching her intently as she sat on the bottom step and concentrated on getting her own shoes on.

This moment reminded him of the night of the Yule Ball and how beautiful she looked when she came down those very same steps.

She took his breath away.

Now sporting a ratty old sweater and wearing no makeup whatsoever, his breath still caught in his throat.

She had always been so beautiful.

After a moment of soaking her in for what may be the last time for a while, Fred walked over and grabbed her hand, leading her out of the common room.

“Where are we going?” Y/N whisper yelled as they stealthily ran through the dark ghostly halls of Hogwarts. The only light source they were gifted came from the full moon that could easily be seen through the plethora of archways adorning the castle’s outer walls. The only sounds being the echo of their shoes slapping against the cobblestone beneath them.

Every once in a while when they came to a turn, Fred would abruptly stop and peak around the corner to make sure Filch wasn’t creeping around in the shadows. A habit he picked up when he first became a student at Hogwarts.

“Almost there.” He stated while swiftly moving around a corner, making a non verbal announcement that the area was clear of any caretaker activity.

Y/N helplessly wanted to tug Fred backwards and have them retreat back into the common room for a second round of passionate love making. Possibly even use the Room of Requirements to spice things up. But unfortunately, things don’t always go the way you want them to. Instead she tried her best to keep up with Fred’s lanky legs as he maneuvered them through the halls of Hogwarts.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally made it to the large grand entrance of the school, surprisingly not having gotten caught in the process. Y/N could feel her legs almost give out as they stopped to look out to the vast land of grass, forest and bodies of water, partially due to the large stretch of running she had just done and partially due to the activities that took place in the common room not that long ago.

Her lungs felt cold and sore as she gasped for breath.

“What are we doing here?” She choked out, not paying much attention to her surroundings. She then stood up fully and noticed a few meters away, the other half of her lover. He turned around, travel bag in hand and Angila behind him in all her bright blue glory. The fact that the car still ran was an absolute miracle. Especially after what Harry and Ron had put her through in Ninety-Two.

Fred took her out of her thoughts as he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him. George had a beaming smile on his face. He initially thought that the plan had worked and Y/N chose to go with them to help bring their dream to fruition. Then he noticed his older twin shake his head sadly. George’s smile disappeared and his shoulders dropped once he realised what his brother was trying to tell him.

This was goodbye.

“I hear you boys are dropping out?” Y/N called out to George as they got closer and closer to him, an attempt to lighten the mood. He let out a sad laugh as he stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Yeah, was thinking about it.” He responded leaning against the passenger door. Y/N snickered softly as they finally came face to face. She dropped Fred’s hand and pulled George in for a hug, rubbing his back to console him, feeling bad that she had gotten in the way of their perfect plan.

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” He asked, words filled with hope.

“I can’t. I need to finish the year and graduate. But this isn’t goodbye Georgie Poorgie.” She said before pulling away from the embrace. He smiled at this and playfully rolled his eyes. He always hated that nickname.

“Will you write?” He didn’t want the last seven years to just go to waste. Neither did she.

“Of course I will.” She moved in closer and whispered,

“Keep an eye on him will you? You were always the more reasonable one of the two.” He chuckled lightly and nodded before leaning in for one more bone crushing hug.

“Bye Y/N.”

“Bye George.” And with that he retreated back into the dodgy Ford to make sure everything was in order for their journey to Diagon Alley.

“So.” Fred said breaking the awkward silence, kicking the stone beneath him, his hands shoved in his sweater pockets.

“So.” Y/N repeated in a light mocking tone. So much had happened in the last few hours that neither one of them really knew what to say.

“I’m never not going to love you, you know that right?” He finally said stepping closer so they were only a couple inches apart from each other.

“Yeah I know. Still wish you weren’t just going and deserting your education but it’s not my place to stomp on your dreams you know.” Y/N let out a sniffle, collecting a couple tears with her fingers.

“I’ll wait for you.” He blurted out. She looked up and gave him a sad smile, taking his hand into hers.

“No you won’t. You will work and work and one day some beautiful girl will walk in and sweep you off of your feet. She will be the perfect girlfriend and one day the perfect wife who will help you and George run the shop and raise your kids while you live out your dream. I know you love me and I love you, more than anything in the world, but Freddie, I cannot and will not hold you back from what I know you can achieve. Be great, focus on that. I’ll always be here for you. But I can’t be who you want me to be. I can’t be a shop owner's wife.” Tears began to trickle down both their faces by the time Y/N had finished her little speech.

“Is this you breaking up with me?” His voice was cracked and hoarse. He had thought about this being a possible outcome but chose to push it to the back of his mind, not wanting to face it.

“Yeah...I think it is.” She replied weakly, feeling absolutely guilty and awful. No, this was what was right. He needed to move on.

“You are the only woman I’ve ever loved! No one else!” He said, his voice raising.

Y/N flinched slightly, not used to seeing him this genuinely angry, not even on the quidditch pitch. How could she? The only other time he got this mad was when she was passed out cold.

“Freddie, please. Not here.” Her voice was quiet and shaky as tears streamed down her face. She then noticed George watching from inside the car with a face full of remorse. Under normal circumstances he would have intervened to protect her but he knew she was safe and this conversation needed to happen sooner or later.

Seeing her scared demeanor, Fred pulled back immediately. He hated to see her frightened and vulnerable.

Slowly, he walked towards her and gently brought her into his chest as she sobbed, placing a plethora of gentle kisses on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry Fred, I just can’t I-” She rambled as her small frame shook with tears.

“Shhh. It’s okay, no need to apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled”. His eyes closed with frustration as he let out a sigh. He was angry at himself for getting so cross with her.

“Fred?” She asked once her tears had finally subsided and she could gather her thoughts.

“Yes love?’ He kept his hands around her waist as he leaned back a touch to look down at her.

“One last kiss? Before you leave?” Both of their hearts broke for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“Y/N please don’t.” He felt as though he could cry now.

“Fred, I don’t want to argue. Just do it” She was tired, emotionally drained and not in the mood to negotiate. He let out a shaky exhale and gently took a hold of the back of her neck, leaning down to capture her lips with his.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen with desperation. It felt nice and warm, but also painful. Fred moaned into Y/N’s mouth and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. In response she placed a hand on his cheek and rubbed her thumb gently back and forth against his soft freckled skin. His hand then came up to lay gently over hers. The size difference of their hands always made his heart swell.

“I love you.” He said against her lips.

“I know. I love you too.” She muttered. And with that, they separated and embraced for a couple more seconds. Neither one of them wanted to let go, but they had to.

“Bye.” She said with a weak wave once he had finally pried himself from her grasp, backing away further and further before getting into the driver seat.

He couldn't even look her in the eye as he started up the bunged up car, it would just be too painful. Merlin knew if he did, there was a good chance he would run back out to her and forget about everything he had worked so hard for.

The headlights shawn brightly, creating a stream of yellow light against the gravel in front of it. The sound of low rumbles, occasional putters and clanks drowned out Y/N’s re-emerging sobs as she watched the boys begin to drive down the path and up into the night sky. The old beat up Ford swiftly flew further and further away. Then it rippled into oblivion.

Gone.

Y/N held her sweater tightly to her shaking body as her teeth chattered, the only sound being the chilly April wind passing by. The wetness of her fresh tears brought an extra sense of coldness to her face. She stood in place far longer than necessary, secretly hoping that piece of junk car would reappear.

It never did.

#Spotify #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter #fw

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thatesqcrush · 3 years

Text

The Anniversary: Sun Kissed

Rafael Barba x Reader x Bryan Kneef. CW: NSFW! This is M/M, M/F, MFM. All warnings should be kept in mind.

WC: A whopping 6,079 words of nothing but smut.

AN: Dedicating this to @madpanda75 & a HUGE THANK YOU to @beccabarba for my beta, bouncing ideas and basically being my cheerleader!

It had been one year since you had entered into a polyamory relationship with Rafael Barba and Bryan Kneef. What started out as a one-time fling after getting caught in a rainstorm, had become a deep loving relationship. Sure it had its nuances, just like every relationship - there were times where the three of you had arguments and butted heads. At the end of the day, however, the three of you had negotiated a level of commitment, trust and love that allowed for infinite possibilities which was so wonderful to explore. It was buoying for you to feel so much love around you and to be part of a team who all had each other’s best interests at heart. While some people, when told of your relationship status, expected sordid tales of group sex and jealousy, the true story was that it was more like managing your love life through Google calendar and happily watching dynamics develop between you, Bryan and Rafael.

When Bryan and Rafael suggested celebrating the anniversary with a tropical trip, you could not pack your bags fast enough. Of course, Bryan was able to cash in on favors from his wealthy clients and secured a private island for the week. You and Bryan flew to New York to meet with Rafael to then board a private plane from JFK.

You looked out the window to the aqua water shimmering 10,000 feet below; you were giddy with excitement. You felt a hand slide up your thigh and you turned, meeting Rafael’s bright green eyes. “I am so happy we are getting to do this.” you exclaimed, your voice gaining a high-pitch.

“Me too, querida,” Rafael replied, grabbing your hand and holding it. He used his thumb to stroke the top of it.

“I still can’t believe you were able to get a whole week off though.”

“I…” Rafael trailed off, waving his hand back and forth, “...also cashed in on some favors.”

“Who could ever say no to you, guapo?” you replied, sipping your drink. “I know I certainly have a hard time saying no… papi.”

His eyes dipped to your lips and you purposely licked them slowly, before biting the bottom one. Rafael let out a little growl and gripped the back of your head, holding you. You let out a little moan as his mouth slid over yours, his tongue probing and exploring, yours doing the same in return. His large hands skimmed your arms and made way to your chest, settling there and squeezing the fat of your flesh, running his thumb over your nipples, already diamond-hard, even under your tank-top.

The kiss became more probative, more aggressive, as you moved over the seat, climbing into his lap. From there, his hands moved to your ass, grabbing the ample flesh there. You slid your hands under his shirt, feeling the dusting of chest hair, and his muscles rippling under your fingertips.

You paused and looked around. “Where is Bryan?”

“Duty called - work,” Rafael explained. “He takes after me in many ways, aside from just looks.”

“It really does blow my mind how much you two look alike and aren’t related.” You shrugged.

You both turned to the sound of someone clearing their throat. It was Bryan sitting across, having joined you. Despite taking the time off, the head of the litigation department was still on call, especially as some newbie associate had fucked up a very important filing. Bryan was now trying to use all his cards with the judge so the case did not get dismissed with prejudice.

“Joining the mile high club, hmm?” Bryan asked, cocking his brow. One of his hands held a short tumbler (likely filled with whiskey) and the other was by the zipper of his pants, with a very large, noticeable tent.

“Care to join us?” You purred as your hands made way down to the button of Rafael’s pants, undoing it and then unzipping them. Rafael’s eyes fluttered closed as you snaked your hand into his pants, rubbing him through his boxers.

Bryan shook his head. “No, I want to enjoy the show.”

Rafael turned his gaze back to you and used his index finger to turn your focus back to him. “Then let's give him a show, querida.”

You smiled wickedly. “Okay papi.”

Bryan let out a grunt as he furiously stroked his erection as you bounced on Rafael’s cock. You leaned back slightly, your hands gripping Rafael’s thighs tightly. Your tits bounced in tandem with Rafael’s thrusts and you let out an obscene moan as he began to rub your clit in haphazard circles.

“Oh fuck papi, I’m going to cum! Make me cum!”

“That’s right mi niñita, come for papi,” Rafael grunted. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you, your tits, flush to his face. One hand immediately reached for one while his mouth was on the other nipple instantly, suckling and nipping. You reached around to play with your clit.

Rafael bit your nipple hard as fucked into you harder, chasing his own release. You cried out once more, “Fuck, fuck, oh god…” Your voice trailed off into a cacophony of moans, whimpers, and mewls as you came hard around Rafael’s cock. As you came down from your own high, you murmured words of encouragement for him to come and fill you up with his load. It was too much for Rafael and he grunted as he stiffened, cumming deeply inside you.

Bryan couldn’t stand being an inactive participant anymore and he stood, taking the two steps to join you. You turned to him and Bryan smacked his cock on your lips, smearing the pre-cum on your lips. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, bringing it over your bottom lip. Bryan fed you his cock, your warm mouth encasing his length. Rafael stroked your hair as you blew Bryan. “That’s it querida. Make him come. Let him fill you up like I filled you up.”

Bryan groaned at Rafael’s words. His hands weaved into your hair as he began to fuck your mouth. He was already at the precipice so it only took a few sucks from you for him to fall apart, rumbling your name as his cock twitched and spurted creamy ropes of cum in your mouth. As he stumbled back, Rafael pulled you into a deep kiss, tasting Bryan’s release in your mouth. You let out another moan at the filthy action. Bryan watched as you two kissed, his eyes darkening at the sight of his release snowball between the two of you.

“That was fun,” you purred, breaking the kiss, and wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb. You remained intimately connected with Rafael, watching Bryan straighten himself up.

“I’ll say. I can’t wait until we land, kitten,” Bryan replied, now sitting back in his seat, sipping his drink. You snuggled into Rafael’s chest, still not making a move to leave. The tips of Rafael’s fingers stroked your back and you felt content.

“Me either,” you replied. “Before I forget, I just want to say thank you for all of this. We’re going to have so much fun and I am so thankful for you both. I love you all so, so much.”

“And we love you,” Rafael murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You hummed contentedly once more.

The pilot came on, announcing that the plane was getting ready to land, which served as the impetus for you to leave Rafael’s lap and for you and him to re-dress.

The beachfront villa was what dreams of a home in the Caribbean are made of. It was a modern enchanted island with glorious white sandy beaches and crystal clear waters. And the beach served as your front lawn. The private residence was comfortably hidden behind mature palms, almond and sea grape trees, various overgrown flowering vines, and numerous fruit and floral vegetation. It was lush, full, and wild. The whole setting among the sea palms combined to create the solitude and seclusion you were all hoping for. It was the kind of magical place that you would want to get lost in forever.

You felt like you were in your own little island oasis. From the ocean facing position, there were no other homes and the rooms were all gracious in size. You knew there was a nearby community consisting of only private residences and vacation villas but there were no beach bars or restaurants on this beach to create unwanted noises and crowds.

Once everyone was settled in and refreshed - no longer smelling like plane and sex - it made the most sense to hit the beach (afterall, it was right there). You laid on the beach towel, facing the ocean and enjoying the warmth of the sun on your skin. Rafael had immediately decided to go for a swim. Bryan massaged sunblock into your skin. You felt his fingers nimbly undo your swimsuit top. You propped yourself up, turning towards him. The top fell to the sand, leaving you completely bare.

“You don’t want tan lines, hmm?” Bryan winked and you rolled your eyes.

“Bryan, you are incorrigible.”

“Is that a complaint? You knew what you were signing up for with me. I am not like Rafael - I am, as you say, insubordinate and churlish,” Bryan replied as he gently pushed you back down so he could continue rubbing the lotion on your back. His hands trailed down your sides to your bottoms and then down your thighs.

His hands left you briefly so he could squeeze more lotion into his hands. When his hands returned, they were at the tops of your inner thighs and your breath hitched as he moved closer and closer to your cunt. “You know, we are all by ourselves. I could just move these to the side and no one would ever know.” And to prove his point, Bryan pushed your bottoms to the side, exposing your pussy. A finger trailed softly and you involuntarily shivered as arousal shot through you, making you feel warmer than the Caribbean sun.

Bryan continued stroking you softly, gathering your wetness on his finger. He sucked on his finger and then he slid his finger deep inside, knuckle deep. “Such a needy pussy.” He continued as your cunt clenched around your finger. “Getting fucked on the plane wasn’t enough?” He removed his finger and sucked again.

You rolled over facing him. “Please Bryan, you are no saint yourself.”

Bryan chuckled darkly. Your eyes scanned his tanned chest, the trimmed hair that traveled south and then met his eyes once more. You beckoned him and he gave you a lascivious smile before covering his body with yours. He kissed you deeply, his beard and his hot lips against yours. He moved to kiss the skin of your shoulder, and began playing with your nipples. His hands squeezed on your tits as he nipped your neck, sucking a mark into your skin. You let out a whimper at the slight edge of sharp pain combining with pleasure, as he soothed the spot with his tongue.

“Should we move this to the house?” Bryan asked as he resumed kissing and exploring your neck with his mouth and tongue.

“Sex on the beach has always been on my bucket list,” you confessed, shrugging slightly. Bryan’s hands headed lower, pulling down your bottoms. You lifted your hips to help him and he broke the kiss to remove them completely.

There was a very evident tent in his swim trunks. You helped him remove his trunks and he was over your body once more. His cock nudged against your entrance.

You reached for him. Bryan wasted no time; he took your arms and bracketed your wrists in a bruising grip over your head. You gasped as he moved his mouth to your neck where every kiss sent shivers through you. Your legs were spread wide, welcoming his cock which slid in easily as you were already sopping wet. He filled you up in one thrust and gave no time for you to adjust to his girth.

“Fuck, yes! Oh daddy!” You cried out as your hips lifted against his. Bryan let out a grunt as he drove into you, every snap of his hips sent tingles up your spine.

“You take this cock so well kitten,” Bryan gritted between clenched teeth as he continued his thrusting, “Fucking bomb pussy.” The sounds that emanated from his chest were primal.

The sand on your ass irritated your skin, but you did your best to ignore it as Bryan’s cock nudged your sweet spot over and over. You could feel the beginnings of your orgasm begin to crest. Bryan moved one of his hands from your wrists, and snaked between your bodies, rubbing your pussy.

“I’m going to… going to… oh fuck me!” You cried out as you came hard, your walls tightening around Bryan’s cock. Your back bowed from the intensity of your orgasm as it crashed over you, the roar deafening and you could not tell what sound was you or the waves crashing against the beach. Bryan tumbled after you, your name escaping his lips.

Bryan released your arms and you wrapped them around his neck, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. A shadow covered the two of you and you broke the kiss to look upward.

Rafael was standing over you, having come back from his swim. Beads of water rolled off of his body and dripped onto the sand. His hands were on his hips and a brow was arched.

“Enjoying the show papi?” You purred. Bryan rolled off of you, evidence of your release on his cock. Rafael smirked. “I just wish I was part of it.”

“You had your chance earlier...” Bryan replied darkly, his eyes narrowing.

“Guys…” You sat up, crossing your arms. “Play nicely. Why don’t we… go clean up? That shower has lots of room for all of us.”

Back at the house both men took turns making each other come, as well as you once more, under the hot steam of the shower.

Day turned into night. The bright sun dropped into the horizon, turning the sky vivid shades of purples, pinks, and oranges. The sound of insects singing filled the air. Inside, Bamboleo played loudly as Rafael and you danced around in the living room. Rafael grabbed your hips, swiveling his hips against yours before twirling you. His hand then landed on the small of your back, bringing you back to him. You held his hands as the two of you continued dancing. As the song came to an end, Rafael pulled you close to him and dipped you. You erupted in giggles, as he pulled you back to standing. You were both hot, sweaty and out of breath.

“That was wonderful.” You sighed happily. Rafael pressed a kiss to your cheek, before grabbing your hand and leading you to the kitchen, where Bryan was in the kitchen finishing cooking.

“Domestic Bryan - so adorable.” You teased, as you hopped onto the barstool. Bryan’s eyes narrowed and he shot you a look.

“Kitten, the only thing accurate about that sentence is the dom part.” He winked and your skin prickled in response.

Rafael circled around the island to the side where Bryan was. He plucked a carrot directly from the pan, making a hum of approval. Bryan turned to Rafael and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, before reaching down to grab his ass. You hopped off the stool, leaving both men be, as you pulled down plates and finished setting up for dinner.

Clean up after was a team effort and you pressed a quick kiss on Bryan’s cheek as you warned him to not soak the cast iron skillet. You ended up taking over while both men packed leftovers in containers and finished cleaning up. After, you all settled in the living room to unwind. As Bryan and Rafael talked politics, you drifted off to sleep in Rafael’s strong arms, as he stroked your hair.

When you woke up, it was after midnight. You were covered with a throw blanket and you realized you had fallen asleep. You stood and stretched, elongating your limbs like a cat, before folding the blanket. You made your way to the bedroom - the door was open a crack. From where you were standing, you watched Bryan fuck Rafael. He held Rafael’s thighs with his arms while Rafael laid on his back. Groans of hot pleasure and need emanated from both men. So many physical sensations ran through your body; with sudden inspiration, you brought your hand under your sleep shorts and began to rub your clit.

“Bry - fuck! Yes, harder, harder. Fuck you’re going to make me come so hard.” Rafael panted as he brought his hand to his cock, stroking.

“That’s right, take it.” The way his muscles twitched, you knew Rafael was about to come. He stroked himself furiously and, with a matching grunt, came all over his hand and stomach in spurts. Bryan withdrew himself and came all over Rafael’s stomach.

You bit your lip as you stifled your own moan as you came yourself. Bryan threw himself on the bed lying next to Rafael. You watched as their chests rose and fell.

You rapped lightly on the door, catching the attention of both men looking toward you. “Fuck, that was hot.” You replied as you entered the room. Bryan reached for you and pulled you to the bed. Rafael moved, excusing himself and you pushed him back down to snake your tongue on his abdomen. The salty mix of their release filled your mouth. Rafael let out a small sigh as you did so. Rafael eventually left to clean up and when he returned, you snuggled between them, with arms and legs all wrapped around one another.

After breakfast the following morning, Rafael suggested trying out the infinity pool. When you get to the pool, both men are sitting on opposite sides. You climb carefully in, and sink in between both men.

“Y/N are you having a good time?” Rafael asked.

You smiled in response. “This has been so wonderful. It's a shame it’ll be over in a few days' time.”

“Then we should make the most of it.” Bryan husked. You looked side to side and realized both men are making their way over to you. You laughed loudly. “You two are insatiable.”

“Oh, but you fucking love it,” Rafael commented.

“Kitten that was the whole point of this trip,” Bryan followed. The water splashed as they pounced on you. Bryan kisses you deeply as Rafael’s hands are on your ass, pulling your bottoms down. Bryan’s hands land on your tits, rolling your nipples through your swimsuit with his fingers. You moan as Bryan dips his head to capture a globe in his mouth.

Rafael’s hands are on your ass, spreading your cheeks wide. The water laps at your cunt gently and the contrast of the cold water on your heated skin makes you shiver.

“Lean back on Bryan.” Rafael commanded and you do so, dropping your weight against Bryan. Rafael lifted up your legs and you’re nearly laying flat, floating while Bryan held you up. Rafael stroked your pussy, pleased at how wet you were. “You’re wetter than the pool,” he murmured before he dipped his head. His breath was hot on your aching cunt, and he buried his face into you, sucking and licking and devouring your slick folds.

He licked you with big, broad strokes, before targeting your swollen, sensitive clit, taking it between his lips, trapping it so he could torment it with his tongue, scraping just slightly with his teeth. Meanwhile Bryan reached down to grab at your tits. You cried out from the sensation of both men on you. Rafael’s tongue massages your clit furiously before dipping his tongue inside you slightly, mimicking what was to come.

“That feels so good.” You whined. “Yes, yes, Rafael!”

Bryan murmured against you all the filthy things he and Rafael planned, which only served to stoke your orgasm. Your thighs began to tremble and your hips bucked. Rafael lifted his mouth from you, evidence of your arousal on his face and you whined once more. “Let's take this inside.”

Back in the bedroom, it was a pile of limbs as you all touched and grabbed at each other. You dropped to your knees in between both men, taking turns to suck each man’s cock. One hand jerked one man’s cock while your mouth was on the other’s.

Both men grunted and groaned above you and you felt like some kind of wanton goddess, drunk on power as each man succumbed to your warm wet mouth.

Rafael’s hands wrap into your hair, as he begins to fuck your mouth mercilessly and without warning. Sounds of spluttering and gagging fill the room. You can feel saliva drip out from the corner of your mouth and onto you. Rafael’s thrusts quicken and you moan around his cock, which sends vibrations through him. Bryan moved to Rafael and both men kissed, their tongues rolling against one another.

Rafael pulled out of your mouth and you used the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. You stand and Bryan pulls you in for a deep kiss before turning you back to Rafael. Bryan lays down on the bed, in the middle. His fat cock stood proudly and he jerked it slowly. “C’mere and ride daddy.” He growled.

As you climb onto the bed, Rafael grabs the lube on the nightstand and drizzles it over Bryan’s cock and hand. You watch, fascinated, as Bryan slicks his cock. Once ready, you climb over Bryan and sink down. You both let out groans as you begin to roll your hips above him. You lean forward, gripping Bryan’s tanned chest, leaving half-moon marks. The sound of skin on skin filled the room as your ass clapped on his thighs. Bryan pulls you further down, taking a tit into his mouth. The bed dipped again, and Rafael is behind you, drizzling lube over your puckered entrance. A finger makes its way in, then a second, in preparation of being fucked.

“That’s it, take his cock.” Rafael commanded as he fucked your tight rosebud with his fingers.

“Yes daddy, oh yes daddy, fuck me!” You cried out as Bryan sat up and sucked marks on your skin.

Rafael lined his cock along your entrance and you all let out an obscene moan as Rafael inserted the tip of his cock inside of you. He slid into you and you gasped as he filled you up completely. Rafael pressed hot searing kisses along your backside, murmuring praises of how you were such a good girl taking both daddys’ cocks. You felt so wonderfully and deliciously full.

The two men fell into a smooth rhythm, both of them fucking you in tandem, bodies moving with one another as they thrust inside you. You were trembling as they fucked you, letting out pathetic whimpers and clinging to their bodies. Bryan’s strong arms held you close, grinding his hips into yours and giving you just the right friction on your clit to make you go wild and fall apart once more. You chanted their names as if it were prayer. Bryan meets Rafael’s eyes and it takes all of Rafael’s willpower to not blow his load right there and then.

“Look at you kitten, taking us so well… our pretty little toy, huh?” Bryan panted.

You moaned at his words. It was overwhelming in the best way, you were completely consumed by them. Every part of your body, your consciousness, was filled by them both.

Bryan feels his balls tighten upward and he knows he is unable to hold on for much longer.

“Come for us Y/N.” Rafael grunted, as he watched his cock disappear in and out of you. You snaked a hand between you and Bryan and began to rub furiously.

Bryan’s hands fly to your hips and he starts to really pound into you.

“Oh god, oh god, I am going to come. You’re going to make me come.” You pant.

“We want you to come.” Rafael grunted. “We need for you to come. Milk our cocks.”

You cried out with every thrust, babbling incoherently. Your body responded to Rafael’s commands, feeling your orgasm explode.

Rafael chases his own release, pumping in and out of you before he lets out a loud shout, followed by a stream of Spanish words as he comes.

Rafael pulls out and spreads your ass cheeks, watching how his come dripped out of you and down to Bryan’s balls. Rafael dips his head there and begins to lick. Bryan shouts an obscene stream of words as body goes rigid, his cock pulsing with pleasure as he blows his hot load into you.

As you come down, you slowly lift off of Bryan and roll into his embrace. Rafael followed suit and the three of you drift for a well deserved afternoon cat-nap.

The days passed in a blur in a myriad of activities, aside from fucking each other’s brains out. You took kite-surfing lessons, went on an amazing day trip on a yacht where you all went snorkeling, had beers at a local microbrewery, and explored the Baths on Virgin Gorda.

The plan for one of the final days was to take a trip to Anegada. That morning, however, Bryan was on his phone, arguing with what sounded like work. He put his phone against his chest and looked at Rafael and you and shook his head.

You were disappointed, but Rafael promised you and he would have the best day ever. And the two of you did. After the hour-long ferry ride, you arrived at Anegada. It felt spacious, wild, and distant as it was separate from the main islands, built on a barrier reef. Because Anegada is the most distant of all the British Virgin Islands, the plan was to make sure to spend at least one full day to enjoy all it had to offer. The island was filled with flamingos, a free to visit iguana sanctuary, and a population of wild cows that almost outnumbered the people. From the shore, you spotted the pink mounds of conch shells in the water.

Rafael’s arms wrapped around you during the ferry ride back. And as the day turned to night, you struggled to find a piece of sky that did not sparkle with stars. You rested your head on his shoulder as the warm salty air blew gently.

“I love you.” Rafael murmured against your skin.

“I love you too.” You replied and Rafael squeezed you tighter in response. “I hate that you are in New York and we’re here. It always feels like a piece of the puzzle is missing.”

“I know, querida. But it won’t be like this forever.” Rafael replied, as he brushed some hair that blew into your face.

“I hope so.” You replied, before burying your face into his chest.

The final full day had arrived. Soon it would be back to reality - with Rafael flying directly back to New York while you and Bryan flew back to Chicago.

You leaned over the railing in the front of the house, watching the waves crash along the shoreline as the sun began to rise. You picked up your coffee from the railing and took a long sip.

The door creaked open and footsteps approached. You turned around and smiled at Bryan who had just walked out of the shower. A towel hung around his waist and another towel was wrapped around his neck.

“Morning beautiful. You’re up early.”

You gave him a small shrug and turned back to the horizon. “I couldn’t sleep. Where’s Raf?”

“Surprisingly still asleep.” Bryan commented as he stood next to you.

You hummed quietly, feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach. “I guess I am just bummed that this is all ending.”

“Just the trip. Not us.” Bryan replied, taking your coffee out of your hand and taking a sip himself. He wrinkled his nose as he swallowed. “You put way too much sugar.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a small smile as you took back the cup. You pressed your hands to his chest and stroked. “I know that, but I just wish we were all together, all the time. I was telling Rafael that sometimes this long distance thing sucks..”

The normally acerbic litigator responded by wrapping you tightly in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You looked up at him, catching his green eyes which sparkled. “What are you thinking?” You asked, reaching up to push some of his wet hair back.

Bryan wrinkled his nose again, feeling his chest tighten. So he did what he did best - shoved those feelings down and again did what he did best - he made a move.

Bryan leaned down to kiss you and you felt his hands slide up and under your nightgown. His hand moved to the front and a deep rumble emerged from his chest. “Going commando kitten?”

“Easy access for daddy.” You purred. “But you didn’t answer my - oh.” Bryan stroked your folds, feeling you become more and more wet with just his touch. You reached down and palmed his hard cock. Bryan hummed in pleasure as you did so, moving his hand from your cunt to cover your hand with his, keeping you in place. With your other hand, you played with his towel and tugged it down, revealing his big, fat cock. Pre-cum weeped from the slit of his cut cock and you squatted down immediately to take him in his mouth. You were used to the weight of his cock on your tongue and longed for the feel of him stretching your mouth. The idea of going down on him made your mouth salivate. Bryan’s hands weaved into your hair, guiding you as you bobbed on his cock.

Bryan let out an expletive as he gripped the railing. “Oh yes, kitten, suck daddy’s cock. Just like that.”

You hummed and then pulled off to jack him as you ducked your head under to suck on his balls briefly before resuming blowing him. You hollowed your cheeks and used one free hand to pump his length in tandem.

“You look so good down there,” Bryan growled.

“I love daddy’s cock.” You moaned. “I need it.”

In response, his hands twisted and tugged on your hair more, pulling on your scalp. The twinge of pain only spurred you, so when you took him in your mouth again, you relaxed your throat so you could take him further, until he hit near the back of your throat. You tried to move, but instead he held you in place. “That’s right baby, choke on this cock.”

Saliva eked out from the corners of your mouth, dripping on the wood of the patio and your eyes watered. All it took was three successive taps to his thigh to release you. When he did, you gasped loudly for air, allowing for the oxygen to fill your lungs.

“Fuck me, please.” You begged, now standing. Bryan cupped your face with his hands, kissing you deeply. He stroked your cheek gently as his eyes sparkled, full of deviousness.

“Let’s see if Rafael is awake.”

You cried out as Bryan fucked you. You were on top of him, in reverse. Your feet were planted on his muscular thighs as he brought you up and down by your hips. Rafael was to the side, reaching over to play with your clit.

“I’m going to come, oh my god, oh my god!”

“Come for us Y/N,” Rafael commanded. “Give it to us.”

You wailed as you came hard, falling apart. Your nerve endings were white-hot and sizzling. Bryan chased his own release, coming deep and hard inside of you. You could feel his release drip out of you. You barely had a moment to come down when Bryan nudged you forward, causing him to slip out. Rafael took place behind you, sliding his cock into you from behind, fucking Bryan’s come back inside of you.

Your arms were wobbly, so you landed on the side of your face, your arms splayed out. Bryan sat to your side and delivered sharp spanks to your ass.

“Whose pussy is this?” Rafael grunted.

“Yours!” You cried out. Bryan tugged on your hair, twisting your head up.

“And?” Bryan growled.

“Yours too. Your pussy.”

“That’s right.” Bryan crushed his mouth against yours, sliding his tongue deeply into your mouth as Rafael continued to pound into you. It was rough, messy, possessive as he did it, thrusting deep and leaving bruises on your hips.

“Is this what you wanted?” Bryan rasped in your ear. “You wanted us to ruin you?”

All you could do was whimper as Rafael continued to fuck into you. Breathy little whines were pushed from your lungs as he gripped you roughly.

“Yes, daddy!” You gasped, eyes rolling back as Bryan reached over to play with your clit, rough fingers toying with you while his lips found your throat.

“All ours.” Bryan replied. “Our good fuckin’ girl.”

And that is what did it for you. Being called a good girl. Rafael felt your walls flutter around his cock and he knew you had come. The sensation caused his cock to kick and he slid out and jerked his release all over ass, painting you with thick, creamy ropes. After the last of his release came out, you collapsed towards Bryan and he held you as Rafael rubbed his come all over your ass. To make matters more perverse, Rafael wiped his cock with his hand which had yours and Bryan’s release and also rubbed that on your ass.

You were completely sated and unable to move, so you just laid there as Rafael and Bryan murmured praises over you as they moved to clean you up.

The remainder of the day was spent enjoying each other, broken with breaks to pack up.

You were lounging on a netted hammock, which swayed gently. Your toes brushed against the wood flooring of the deck. Rafael and Bryan watched you from inside.

Rafael looked at Bryan. “When are you telling her?”

Bryan sighed, his hands now on his hips . “Now I suppose. You think she will be happy?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

“It’s a big change.” Bryan replied. “And she told me herself before that she wouldn’t do it--”

“Because you can barely keep it in your pants, Bryan.” Rafael replied with a smirk. He slapped Bryan on the shoulder. “Go.”

Wordlessly, Bryan walked outside to where you were. You looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “Hey.”

Bryan reached for you. “We need to talk.”

Instantly you felt your stomach knot up. “Sure.” You carefully stood and Bryan helped you steady yourself.

“So what’s up Bry?” You asked, crossing your arms. You tried to read his expression but he had perfected that stony look.

“I’m leaving Chicago. And I want you to come with me.” Bryan confessed.

“Wait - what? Where to? What happened to STR Laurie?” You questioned.

“Everything is fine. STR Laurie is opening an office in New York City and they want me to head it.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry, I think I had a minor stroke. You are moving to Manhattan?”

Bryan nodded. “And I want you to come with me. With us.” He glanced at Rafael who was still watching from inside.

“Live with you and Rafael?” You asked, stunned.

“Is that a no?” Bryan questioned. You shook your head as a huge grin spread on your face.

“I would love nothing more!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around him for a tight squeeze. The door opened and Rafael came out. You looked at Rafael. “Did you know about this?”

Rafael nodded. “Whose idea do you think it was?”

You pulled out of Bryan’s embrace and tugged Rafael closer to you. “This is the best news!” You squealed once more, giddy with excitement.

“How about we celebrate one more time then? Tomorrow will be here soon enough,” Rafael replied softly.

You nodded. And the three of you headed back inside, ready to embark on the newest chapter of your lives. You couldn’t wait.

And you suspected they couldn’t either.

FIN

Tags: @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @delia26 @mgarner1227@beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne @prurientpuddlejumper @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @bisexual-dreamer02 @madamsnape921 @averyhotchner @teamsladsandgents @qvid-pro-qvo @alwaysachorusgirl

#bryan kneef x reader #rafael barba smut #bryan kneef x reader x rafael barba #polyarmory #poly!fic #bryan kneef imagine #rafael barba imagine

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puckmeupfam · 3 years

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Sap | Jeff Skinner

Word Count: 2287

Note: My autumnal aesthetic piece that I started in July. Title is based on the fact that this is entirely fluff without plot, and because it takes place in the Northeast with references to maple syrup, cider donuts, and leaf-peeping.

Zipping your newly packed suitcase and pulling it off the bed, you heard the front door open signaling that Jeff arrived home from practice. It was a rare time when he had the weekend off. No games, no practices after the one he just finished, just free time which he chose to devote to spending with you. The two of you loved going on short trips whenever possible to escape the monotony of work and grocery shopping and Buffalo. Honestly, you could spend the weekend in Lackawanna and be happy as long as you were with Jeff. This particular weekend was special because it was now solidly fall. The temperatures were dropping. The leaves were changing. Swimsuits were being swapped out for sweaters. And golf was being replaced by hockey.

You had spent most of the summer in Markham. Coming from a smaller family, you were always enamored by Jeff’s. At this point, you honestly considered them to be your family, too. You loved talking to Jillian about her time in law school or asking Ben about his hockey career in Germany. It was also hilarious to watch the five siblings tease Jeff about his competitiveness or on-ice gaffs, but he was always a good sport about it and just laughed with bright red cheeks. You knew how much it meant to Jeff when he got to spend time with his family and experience that warmth and joy. The both of you were incredibly lucky that Buffalo isn’t too far away, but with his schedule, the uninterrupted summer was extra special.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you missed Jeff coming up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. His arms wrapped around your waist and his face found its way into the crook of your neck. The action brought an unconscious smile to your face as you leaned back into him.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asked you, voice muffled against your skin as he lightly swayed. You shrugged in response, “We should probably get Andrea a birthday gift while we’re gone, something nice you know? Show we were thinking about her.” Jeff hummed in response. He rocked the two of you a bit before speaking, “Are you ready to leave?” You took a deep breath, inhaling his cologne. Turning your body to look him in the eye you smiled softly, “Almost,” you whispered, “we should probably get going before they decide they need you to individually kiss each fan.” This elicited a booming laugh from Jeff that you felt throughout your body, “The only person I’m kissing is you.”

After another minute of contentment, you shuffled him away from you to grab some chargers and last-minute necessities. He chuckled as he started pulling your suitcase down to the car, he knew how much you were looking forward to this trip. You had spent the last week researching and talking about all the spots you wanted to visit while you were away. Grabbing your purse and hoisting it over your shoulder you did a last-minute sweep of the house to make sure that everything was unplugged and you weren’t leaving candles lit or stovetops on. After your anxieties were quelled you went outside and joined Jeff in the car. He had already put your B&B into the GPS and he flashed you a large grin which you eagerly matched as he pulled out of the driveway.

This trip the two of you were going to Western Massachusetts. It was about a five and a half hour drive, probably longer since you knew you would be stopping for lunch and every state park that came your way. You synched your phone and started playing music, knowing that you had a playlist with the perfect ambiance. Jeff always teased you for making playlists for every mood, weather pattern, task, or aesthetic that came in your head. But when the soft chords came through the speakers and his fingers started a gentle tap against the steering wheel to the beat, you knew that it was appreciated.

In Buffalo, the weather was just cool enough that the seat warmers got turned on but not yet so cold that you were shivering. You were cruising down the highway, close to crossing city lines. When you glanced over at Jeff he had a small smile, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. Just watching the road with an underlying well of happiness. You took a minute to look at him, to take him in. His smile turned out to be infectious and you knew your face was probably spread with a dopey grin.

“You’re staring,” Jeff said, breaking the silence.

“You didn’t even look over. How would you know?” you complained.

“I could feel your stare,” he responded, looking over at you with a grin that took over his whole face. His statement made you burst out laughing. While the whole thing was funny and, you were sure that he really did get that weird feeling you get when someone’s looking at you, it made you think about how you were always so aware of each other. The two of you could be in a crowd of people at some Sabres bruncheon and someway somehow you could always glance up and see him already looking at you. Or when you would go to some team party, you always had a tendency to reach for each other’s hands at the same time.

“You would stare at you too,” was your response after you had realized that you went a few beats too long just staring into space.

It was Jeff’s turn to laugh, “what does that even mean?”

“It means,” you started, drawing out the word, “that you’re cute and potentially the embodiment of sunshine and everyone would stare at you if they could and I will simply not defend myself further.”

Jeff rolled his eyes at your dramatic tone and faux-seriousness. He swung his arm out over to you, holding it in the air until you grabbed his hand in both of yours. You pulled his hand into your lap and leaned further back into the passenger seat. Turning your head to the side to watch the city escape, your eyes unfocused and your brain turned to elevator music as your temple rested against the window. After a few minutes of contented silence, Jeff’s hand made its way to your thigh and squeezed, drawing your attention.

“Look at the leaves, babe,” he told you. The passing trees were dotted with warm-colored leaves of crimson, tangerine, marigold, and honey. It was absolutely gorgeous and seemed like a sign that your trip was only going to get better. You stared in awe for about a mile before you looked back at Jeff. His eyes flickered from the road to your face and the look he gave you, full of love and peace, made you feel so warm.

“They’re so pretty,” you said softly. You moved your hand to twine your fingers together and you watched his dimples come out in full force as he forced his eyes to stay on the road. After a few moments of contentment, you spoke again, “do you want me to tell you about the plant pigments that make these colors possible?”

Jeff chuckled, but you knew that your joke didn’t ruin the moment or anything else that you might think if you were talking to someone else. Because Jeff knew you, he loved you. He loved your bad jokes, your stories that you’ve already told him multiple times but just like telling again and again, the way you go into lectures to explain things that he had never thought twice about, your urge to talk during movies to comment on the scene or the actor’s personal life. He loved the best parts of you and he loved the worst parts of you. And this moment? Where you feel the light beaming out of your heart. It isn’t the moment. It’s just a moment in a string of hundreds of thousands of moments that you’ll experience with your favorite person.

After about two hours in the car, you were close to Syracuse and decided to stop for lunch. The two of you decided on a cute, local diner. Jeff parked the car and as you stepped out, you stretched your legs to rid yourself of the wobbly feeling from being in a car too long. The sidewalks were made of a red brick and there was a quiet hustle with people walking their dogs and couples going in and out of shops. The two of you walked side-by-side, but right when you were about to reach the door Jeff stepped ahead to hold it open for you. Stepping through you smiled at him and he followed you in. There seemed to be a typical lunch rush, but the restaurant wasn’t crowded. A waitress pointed you towards a booth and you slumped into it as Jeff sat across from you.

You both ordered coffees before cracking the menu open to see what they had. The pages were lined with different sandwiches, egg dishes, pancakes, and all the typical diner food that you loved. You settled on your order fairly quickly but Jeff scanned the pages until the coffees were brought out and the waitress was asking for your order. Handing her your menu, you explained what you wanted before both of you turned your attention towards your boyfriend.

“Could I have the brownie french toast?”

At that you raised your eyebrows at him incredulously. As the waitress walked away, scribbling your orders down as she went, Jeff looked back at you and laughed at your expression. “Cheat weekend,” was his explanation. He shrugged with an expression on his face like he was being forced to order what was likely the sugariest option on the menu. You threw your hands up to say you weren’t judging. Jeff quickly launched into a story about something Jack did at practice and that filled your wait until the food was brought to your table. Your boyfriend’s eyes widened comically when his food came out. It looked like there had been a blizzard of powdered sugar. It was topped with a whopping pile of whipped cream and a generous amount of rainbow sprinkles, just in case the brownie batter wasn't sweet enough.

Neither of you wasted any time in diving into your food and when you glanced up at Jeff after a few minutes you giggled when you saw that some of that whipped cream had ended up on his nose. You stealthily pulled out your phone to snap a picture of him. Once he heard the click of your camera he looked up at you which reignited your laughter.

“What?” he asked, chuckling lightly with you even without knowing the reason.

Without explaining yourself, you just reached out and swiped the sweet substance off his face before licking it off your finger. His response was just a sharp laugh with rolled eyes, head thrown back a bit at your antics. He knew full well that you were going to tease him for a long time for his choice of ridiculously confectionary lunch. You returned to your food with a shake of your head, but when you turned to take a sip of your coffee you noticed that Jeff had absolutely demolished his plate of french toast and was now trying to collect the remnant of whipped cream with his fork.

“It’s not going to be my fault when you crash from all that sugar,” you told him. He watched you dig your teeth into your lip to try and conceal the smile that was threatening to break through.

“Honestly, (Y/N), I’ve never felt better in my life. The sprinkles fuel me. I think I’ll make this my pre-game meal,” Jeff said with an air of seriousness. Sadly for him, but luckily for you, he had a genetic inability to suppress his smiles. You leaned back in the booth until your head hit the pleather upholstery and kicked your feet up to rest in his lap underneath the table.

“Don’t overwhelm yourself, I’m taking you to the Sugar Shack tomorrow and we’re getting the cider donuts.”

Jeff pulled a shocked and aghast face in response, “How dare you insinuate that I would ever be anything other than thrilled at the very prospect of cider donuts? You know, just because you said that I’m going to get two orders and we’ll see what you say when I eat those and yours too.”

You rolled your eyes so dramatically that you knew, if your mom were there, she would be telling you that they’d get stuck like that. Under the table, you kicked your legs up to rest in Jeff’s lap as he waved his arm to flag down the waitress for the bill. You sat quietly, just watching as he went through the monotony of thanking the waitress and putting his card in the sleeve of the bill. When he looked back at you, he smiled knowing that he caught you staring for the second time that day.

“You ready?” He asked you. A simple question, given that you were on a roadtrip with a predetermined destination. But with the opportunity to just appreciate him and your relationship, without the stress of your schedules or outside influences, it just felt meaningful. There was no one you would rather be with, during the happiest moments of your life or the worst. You felt a little misty with the joy of having him by your side.

“With you? Always.”

Pulling yourself out of the booth, you extended your hand for him to grasp and continued onwards.

#Jeff skinner #Jeff skinner imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl fic #buffalo sabres imagine #j.skinner #based in the fall started in the summer posting in the winter #not proofread #tw food

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national-nobody-writes · 3 years

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2020 Creator Wrap

2020 Creator Wrap: Favorite Works

I was tagged by the oh so talented @irolltwenties!

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I’m not a particularly prolific writer (WIPs for days, but completed projects? Not so much). Somehow in this hell year though, I did manage to complete more fics than in any previous year for a total of seven new works (~49k words, all on ao3), plus a chunky chap of a long running WIP (~20k words) so I’m actually pretty damn proud of myself! I also made some new fandom friends in 2020 which has easily been one of the biggest delights of the year & has definitely helped my creative momentum, so ty all for that. <3

Counting down from 5, here are my favs:

5. Downtime

I have endless love for JayRoy and it felt so good to finally finish something for them for once this year! All of my past WIPs primarily focused on them ended up firmly in my graveyard folder, including the fic that this one shot was originally meant to be connected to. I liked the way this turned out well enough to clean it up and post it on its own though, so at least now I can say that I have something published for them at last.

(Also it got me back into the JayRoy headspace enough to outline a whole YJ/Earth16 JayRoy fic that I’m excited to start drafting in 2021, so we’ll see where that goes...)

2.3k NSFW; A mix of playful sweet and roughness, just like them.

4. Mirror Image

Bluepulse Week really saved me this year in terms of forcing me to just write, damn it! Did I finish all the prompts this year? Nope. Did it get me to complete a handful of fics that I ended up really loving? Yes. This was one of them.

This fic zoomed into existence entirely out of necessity as an alt idea to a prompt that I had a much longer idea for, but didn’t have time to complete. It then got a positive enough reception that I decided to turn it from a crack-adjacent, passable one-shot to a slightly more developed two-shot by request of one of my commenters. Really, it was writing that second chapter that ended up endearing the fic to me.

6.3k Humor, time travel shenanigans & accidental dating. This fic is the sweetness of teenage crushes, the confusing mess of discovering your sexuality, & laughter with your best friend.

3. Soft Wesper One Shots

Would you look at that, another nsfw piece. Could it be that I’m starting to get to the point where I can look back at completed nsfw fics without cringing terribly? Love that for me.

This fic took me by surprise, tbh. I wouldn’t consider myself a part of the grisaverse fandom (I’m utterly ambivalent toward the OG trilogy & have no plans to read them), but I did fall deeply in love with the whole Six of Crows gang earlier this year to the point of having quite the book hangover afterward, unable to pick up anything else except related fanfic for a couple weeks straight. These fluffy, nsfw scenes were born out of that, and I was pleasantly surprised to see such a positive response to them in the comments. The whole SoC gang has my heart, but the dynamic between Jesper and Wylan in particular got my writing fingers itching.

3.7k Domestic, post-canon fluff & tender sex with flirty Jesper & blushing Wylan abound.

2. Stick With Me

Ohh, I still get warm fuzzies thinking about this fic! If I’m only low-key proud of the first three on this list, this is one I’m legitimately very proud of. I had this idea on the docket already from a convo with @ivyxwrites early this year (or maybe last year? who knows, time means nothing anymore) but used Bluepulse Week as the excuse to finally get started, and I ended up adoring the process of writing it far more than I anticipated.

As much as I love planning out meticulously crafted, plotty stories, sometimes all you want to do is pick some well-loved tropes out of a hat instead and run with them (in this case: stuck in a cabin, only one bed, & heated argument leading to confession). It was freeing to just mess around and have fun with this fic, knowing pretty much right from the get-go how I wanted it to unfold and seeing it so vividly in my mind. It also probably helped that I was writing it for Ivy; it’s much easier for me to stay motivated when creating directly for my friends.

Finishing this was also such a serotonin-filled burst of pure victory for me since, as previously stated, I’m terrible at finishing projects--particularly multi-chap fics, particularly within a decent timeframe.

25.5k A showcase of the essence of what I love about the best friends-to-lovers dynamic. Part character study, part wires getting crossed & uncrossed, and whole idiots to lovers. This fic is the warmth in the pit of your stomach from a yearning made real & the sudden clarity of realizing what you were looking for had already been there all along.

1. The Rest Pt 1: Delicate (Remember Me Chap 4)

Oh, Remember Me. Of everything I’ve ever written, this story remains the one I’m most proud of and certainly the closest to my heart (not to mention the longest running, whoops). The first iteration of the beginning of this story was actually drafted back in 2017, but I walked away from it for a couple of years before deciding to dust it off and try again. It has spiraled into something far bigger in scope than I originally planned for, but I’ve come to love the path it’s led me down so far, and finishing this whopping 20k chunkster of a chapter was like breathing a huge (if temporary) sigh of relief.

This chap was particularly cathartic to write because it allowed for a number of convos between the boys that had really needed to happen, and was finally the ‘getting together’ moment the fic had been building toward for a while. It’s also so sappy I could die, but I will not be apologizing for that, lol. I was really hoping to get Chap 5 up this year as well, but y’know. Sometimes things just don’t work out like you plan for and that’s okay.

Chap 5 does have 17k done already (with prob another 5-8k still to go) & I’m itching to share it, but no sense in rushing if the end result would suffer for it. Luckily, everyone in comments has been kind enough to beat me over the head with ‘take your time, we don’t mind/we’ll still be here!!!’ which I’m immensely grateful for. So, at least the pressure to hurry up and get it done is purely self-inflicted.

Of all my works, this fic has not only gotten the most passionate responses, but has also been the main gateway for me to interact with other bluepulse creators, which has been a real joy. Nothing brightens my day like the essays people leave me over there from time to time after discovering the fic. That kind of engagement is the highest praise, & responding is very self indulgent fun for me (bc, clearly, I could go on and on about this fic & YJ in general forever).

54.8k total so far (WIP). Bart & Jaime’s relationship journey from beginning to ‘current day’ (aka the moment the fic begins), using amnesia/memory restoration as a framing device. The high highs and low lows of first love, navigating a 3 yr age difference, and the long, winding road from best friends to lovers as the years roll on. Slow-burn-adjacent (in terms of both the boys’ relationship to each other and reader’s relationship to the fic bc of how long I take between goddamn updates).

Tagging @ivyxwrites, @incorrectbatfam, @paintingwithdarkness, @bluepulsebluepulse

#writing #fanfic #dc #young justice #bluepulse #jayroy #wesper

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shesidewalks · 4 years

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“Precious” (Yunho GryffindorSeeker! x Ravenclaw reader)

Prologue:

In the years since Harry Potter’s defeat of the mass-murder, Tom Riddle, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had grown spectacularly. Not only did it remain the largest school for witchcraft and wizardry in western Europe, but it now also boasted an increasingly diverse population—thanks in part to muggle innovations and in part to Hogwarts’s wildly famous reputation as the home of Harry Potter.

Potter, now an auror for the Ministry of Magic, had ushered in a new era of inclusivity. No longer were wizarding schools restricted to drawing students from the local populace. Instead, it was quite common for student to transfer from one school to another at his or her whim, or study abroad across the globe. Courses such as History of Magic now included histories beyond the purview of the school’s locality. Herbologists and magical-creature enthusiasts were keen to import and export exotic species of plant and animal, without harming the indigenous populations of either, of course. Although, occasionally the International Ministry of Magic was called in to capture an escaped Japanese kitsune or South African Grootslang.

Defenses against the Dark Arts were bolstered, Quidditch players added to their playbooks and furiously studied the techniques of teams in the Americas, Asia, and Africa. Thanks to the best-selling book by Oliver Wood, 702 Ways to Win in Quidditch: A Global Perspective, Quidditch had never been so brutally competitive.

The wizarding world finally became a world instead of a series of independent islands.

In the early summer of 2010, Jeong Yun-ho of Gwanju, South Korea, received several acceptance letters: one from Daltokki Akademi (Academy of the Moon Rabbit) in Seoul, one from Ilvermorny in North America, one from a particularly prestigious shōgakko in Tokyo, and, finally, one from Hogwarts.

Korean witches and wizards had suffered greatly in the so-called Korean War that had taken place a few generations back. Although the muggles assumed the war took place for some political reason or other, in reality, the war had been a dispute between the two most powerful magical families in Korea: the Bams and the Moons. The former had grown tired of hiding behind a non-magical government and sought to overthrow the regime, using the muggle’s world war as an excuse to do so.

The Moons, on the other hand, defended the non-magical population and fought to protect it. The ending result was a stalemate. As it stood, the North could (and did) practice magic openly but its people were forbidden to leave unless they agreed to hide their magic, or else they would incur the wrath of the entire wizarding community. The South continued to hide their magic for the sake of the muggles, who had always been rather touchy about the supernatural.

Yun-ho’s family, the Jeongs, had been ardent supporters of the South and, after the war, were given a great gift by the newly formed government: a Jeong would never have to pay for school as long the Moons were in power.

Yun-ho, then, had a great choice to make. The world was, quite literally, his for the taking—and he had only just turned 11 years old in the March.

His parents would support him wherever he went; however, his mother was rather partial toward the local Akademi and made her sentiments known. On more than one occasion, Yun-ho would wake up in the morning with Moon Rabbit paraphernalia draped across the foot of his bed. Sometimes there would be an actual rabbit staring back at him.

Yet, as a lover of the wizard sport of Quidditch, Yun-ho had always secretly wanted to go to Hogwarts. All the best players went there, including Moon Seung—who was currently the top-ranked beater in the world. Seung also happened to be the nephew of President Moon (who was leader of both the non-magical and magical communities in South Korea) but that was far less impressive than his Quidditch skill.

So, when it came time for Yun-ho to decide, he picked Hogwarts.

It didn’t matter that he knew only a handful on English words and had no idea how he’d pass any of his classes—all that mattered was his determination to play. What else did he need to know?

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4 Years Later

“YUUUUUUNNNNN!!!!!”

“HOOOOOOO!!!!!!”

“YUUUUUUNNNNN!!!!!!”

“HOOOOOOOO!!!!!!”

The shouts from the crowd deafened Yun-ho’s ears as he entered the Hogwarts stadium. He flashed a grin in the direction of the stands. The noise grew louder…and noticeably more high-pitched.

“OI! Stop flirting and get your snitch-seeking ass over here!”

Turning back around, Yun-ho still couldn’t keep the lopsided smile off his face. He joined the rest of the Gryffindor team and faced his grouchy captain, a sixth year by the name of Walter Beezle.

Beezle was a small, stocky lad from South London who liked to believe he was of pure Viking ancestry. His head was shaved to a dark stubble and he sported an impressive black beard which had taken 3 of his 6 years at Hogwarts to grow in. His eyebrows were set in a permanent, bushy glare.

He reminded Yun-ho of a grimy, moss-covered rock.

The comparison was apt.

Wally scowled up at Yunho as he approached but said nothing more than:

“Win or die, boys.”

With that, the Gryffindor team lined up and waited for the whistle.

It was a bloodbath.

Gryffindor smashed Hufflepuff, beating them by 350 points. Yun-ho caught the snitch as a mercy more than anything. A fact that did not go unnoticed by the rest of the team who, between celebratory whoops, eyed him suspiciously.

He quietly excused himself from the afterparty before Beezle could sniff him out. Unfortunately, he still had a few hours to go before he could safely return to the Gryffindor common room. His admirers would notice his absence at the party and try to beat him to his bed and—worse—make his teammates hate him more than they already did.

Well, they didn’t hate him, not really. Gryffindors were “loyal” and Yun-ho knew that they didn’t wish him any actual harm, but it didn’t stop them from muttering darkly whenever his Eagle Owl dropped a letter from an admiring fan—usually a girl.

It didn’t help that he was whopping 1.82 meters and breathtakingly handsome.

And it most certainly didn’t help that he was a Metamorphmagus whose hair seemed to have a mind of its own, changing color with his mood. At the moment it had streaks of rose and blonde and blue.

For these reasons, and probably many others, he stood out like a sore thumb.

Whenever he felt outlandish or in danger of fraternal jealousy (which was now) Yun-ho would walk the edge of the forbidden forest and drop in on the jolly groundskeeper, Hagrid, who kept a small hut on the border between the forest and the school grounds.

The sun was just beginning to set when Yun-ho happened upon Hagrid’s hut. Smoke was lazily huffing out from the chimney and a soft firelight emanated peacefully from the dirt-smudged windows. Yun-ho could already hear Fang II’s snores even though he was still a good distance from the front door.

Fang I had passed on to the great dog kennel in the sky a decade or so ago and Hagrid couldn’t live without a dog (or exceptionally dangerous magical creatures, for that matter), so the half-giant adopted another mastiff and christened him Fang II.

It had been Fang II who had been Yun-ho’s first friend at Hogwarts, back when he couldn’t speak the language of his classmates and had felt most alone. Luckily, Fang II didn’t speak English either and his master understood what it was like to be an outsider—literally.

Hagrid quickly became Yun-ho’s second friend and, now, his very best. He was probably waiting for Yun-ho now, eager to hear about the game.

On this particular evening, however, Hagrid would never hear about Gryffindor’s almost embarrassing victory over Hufflepuff; Yun-ho never knocked on his front door. Fang II kept snoring peacefully by the fireplace.

Because somewhere in the woods nearby, a girl was crying.

#ateez #ateez au #yunho x reader #Harry Potter #CrossOver

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fatoomie2801 · 3 years

Text

his queen | kyoya tategami

💫 preview 💫

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Kiara had begun her journey around the country, searching for more tournaments to participate in, in order to gain more points. It had been almost a month since she last saw her friends, but she made sure to keep in contact with them to catch up on how they were and to congratulate them on their progress. So far, the girl had participated in a myriad of tournaments, obtaining 15,000 points, bringing her overall number of points to 17,000. She felt proud of herself for being able to gain such an incredible amount in such a short time, and was determined to collect even more in the remaining two months before the tournament.

As she walked through the city she had now arrived in, she smiled excitedly at the tall buildings that towered over her head, the sun's reflection gleaming off of the glass windows. The atmosphere was serene, the birds singing harmoniously as they fluttered their wings across the canvas of blue painted with specks of soft white. The streets were silent, as Kiara had only just entered the area, but the environment was peaceful nonetheless. However, the peace did not last for long.

"Hey!" an unknown voice called out. Kiara turned in the direction of the voice and was faced with an unfamiliar man, his black hair covering his right eye. A smirk grew on his face causing Kiara to feel uncomfortable, backing away in response to the man approaching her.

"Give us your points!" another voice demanded, its figure appearing from behind a building and taking its place next to the first man. Moments later, four more men appeared and cornered the girl, demanding her points to which she obviously refused. However, there was no escape for her as the group of men had now readied their beys, leaving Kiara with no choice but to fight back.

"Look at this punk," the first man spoke as all seven beys were launched. "She thinks she can actually take us all on by herself. How funny!" The rest of them cackled as their beys all clashed with Cassiopeia in a group attack. There's too many of them, Kiara worried internally. What do I do? I don't have a defensive move to use against them. Kyoya and I didn't get that far. I can't use Imperial Barrage right now either. Ugh!

Cassiopeia's rotation was beginning to rapidly decrease; Kiara couldn't hold off the other beys for much longer. Suddenly, a purple flash emerged, causing Kiara to shield her eyes from the intense light. Once the light had dissipated, she looked back at her bey to notice that it was the only one left rotating from the seven; the others all lay beside their owners who were now on the floor. Immediately, they got up, trembling in fear, and scurried away, leaving Kiara alone. Or so she thought. Kiara hadn't known why she didn't realise it before, but there was a single bey rotating a few metres away from her own. There wasn't much time for her to study it as it had flown into the air. Kiara's gaze tracked it to observe it being collected by its owner who stood on the rooftop of a nearby building. The girl squinted her eyes to see them better and noticed that the figure was looking straight at her: a tall man dressed in a maroon sleeveless shirt and white trousers, with long, grey hair, its length resembling her own. The two shared eye contact momentarily before he turned and walked away, disappearing from her view. Who was that? The girl wondered curiously, her attention grabbed by the screech of an eagle soaring above her only seconds later. An eagle?

Kiara reached her hand out to retrieve Cassiopeia, and once she did so, she took a final glance at the rooftop before continuing to make her way through the city. The closer she travelled towards the centre, the taller the buildings got, heightening the girl's excitement as she knew she was close to the bey stadium. She had signed up to join a tournament in that city, the reward for first place being a whopping 5,000 points, second place being 3,000, and third place being 1,000. If I win this, she thought. I can bring my points up to 22,000. That's not bad at all. Soon enough, she approached the stadium and entered its large doors, making her way to the hallway of rooms where bladers prepared before their matches. Upon finding her name situated on the wall outside room 28, Kiara made her way inside, closing the door behind her and placing her backpack on the wooden bench that was against the wall. She took a seat on one of the four chairs at a table in the centre of the room and clasped her hands together, bringing them up to her chin and resting her head on them, her elbows propped up against the table. The TV in front of her played adverts while she sat and wondered about which kinds of opponents she would have to face in battle.

"Welcome to Klegan City's challenge match for Battle Bladers!" Blader DJ declared through the screen, grasping the girl's attention. "Today, we have 16 competitors who are each fighting for a place at the top. Whoever earns first place will be rewarded with 5,000 points! Second place will be rewarded with 3,000 points! And third place will be rewarded with 1,000 points!" Blader DJ continued to outline the rules of the tournament, and then began announcing the names of the bladers who would participate whilst their pictures showed up on the screen. One of them caught Kiara's eyes. "Tsubasa!" she heard Blader DJ announce as a picture of the strange, grey-haired man she encountered earlier was displayed. Tsubasa, Kiara repeated to herself. So that's his name. Him being here means I'm going to have to battle him, and from what I've already seen, that's not going to be a walk in the park. The girl thought back to her battle with the group of strangers from earlier that day.

~ ~ ~

I don't have a defensive move to use against them. Kyoya and I didn't get that far.

~ ~ ~

She realised that she desperately needed to create a practical defensive move if she was going to have even the slightest chance at winning any battles with opponents as strong as Tsubasa, who she earlier observed took out six people with a single move. Kiara diverted her attention back to the TV screen in order to find out what time the battles began, and it was confirmed that she had two hours before any battles started. She decided to use this time to practice creating a defensive move with her bey, so she switched off the TV, grabbed her backpack, and made her way to the nearest bey park. Walking inside, she spotted a handful of bladers using the collection of bey stadiums available to practice for their battles.

"Hey, aren't you Kiara?" she heard a voice ask, turning to face them and being met with a girl of her height. "You're battling in the Klegan City challenge match today, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," Kiara responded. "Would you like to help me practice?"

"Sure!" the girl smiled.

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the rest of chapter 6 is available on wattpad:

#beyblade metal fight #beyblade #kyoya tategami #fanfic #gingka hagane #ryuga kishatu #tsubasa otori #yu tendo #kenta yumiya #madoka amano

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ofhellsbells · 3 years

Photo

@ofcupidslove

The 21 Club, often simply 21, is an American traditional cuisine restaurant and former prohibition-era speakeasy, located at 21 West 52nd Street in New York City. The Bar Room includes a restaurant, a lounge and, as the name implies, a bar. The walls and ceiling of the Bar Room are covered with antique toys and sports memorabilia donated by famous patrons. The best known feature of 21 is the line of painted cast iron lawn jockey statues which adorns the balcony above the entrance. In the 1930s, some of the affluent customers of the bar began to show their appreciation by presenting 21 with jockeys painted to represent the racing colors of the stables they owned. There are 33 jockeys on the exterior of the building, and 2 more inside the doors.

‘21’ Club debuted America's original gourmet hamburger in 1950. It was cooked in duck fat, spiked with fennel seeds, and sold for a whopping $2.75 in an era of five- and 10-cent hamburgers. In dollar-adjusted value, that price is equivalent to over $25. The price today is $36, although the preparation has changed significantly — the current version of the ‘21’ Burger is closer to a classic hamburger, with a pickled relish and served on a brioche bun with fries on the side.

Belphegor had chosen this location (through Dean’s aid) because it served one of the best burgers in New York City while also being fancy enough that it might actually seem worthy of her. They rented out the whole restaurant for their date with Cupid, though that wasn’t to say that the rest of the restaurant would be empty. In fact, they made sure the whole restaurant would be full of loving couples. With Chastity’s help, they conducted numerous interviews with thousands of couples to make sure the restaurant would be full of only the most loving couples, so Cupid could be surrounded with a large amount of love and energy. After she finished breaking Lucifer and Levi’s curses, they imagined she would need something uplifting like that to energize her.

Once the restaurant owners understood what Belphegor was trying to do (and with a significant sum of money), they allowed Belphegor to decorate the restaurant however Belphegor wanted to. They planned out a design with Chastity’s help, but ultimately, most of the work was done by Belphegor themself. At the table Belphegor had designated as the one for their date, there were four chairs. In one of the chairs was a giant stuffed animals sloth, and in the chair opposite to it, there was a giant stack of boxes of chocolates. They put Cupid’s favorite flowers on all of the tables. Chastity had helped with that part. The flowers were actually from Cupid’s shop, but Chastity had told her that they were for a wedding. She’d even invented a pretend couple with pretend personalities to make the ruse more believable, ensuring Belphegor that Cupid had no idea the flowers were for her gift. There was one additional bouquet that Belphegor picked out themself for their table in particular. It wasn’t as cleanly or beautifully designed as the other flower arrangements, but they’d wanted to try their own hand at it too to show how much they were willing to do for her. They hung up decorations, and they cleared out some tables to make some room for a small dance floor and a stage for a band. They invited Snoop Dog, since he seemed to know a lot about love, and Bryson Bernard, who made the Cupid Shuffle and named himself after Cupid.

Belphegor was in their more confident form, dressed in a pink suit. There was a lot more effort put into their appearance this time. Their clothes weren’t oversized or wrinkled and were clearly tailored to Belphegor. Their shoes were actually tied, and their hair was neatly styled and combed. Chastity took several pictures of them in various spots both in the restaurant and out of it, along with pictures of the venue itself before she left Belphegor to wait on their date on their own.

Belphegor waited patiently at their table for Cupid to come and just entertained themself by listening to all the couples around them and watching how they interacted with each other in an attempt to understand how to be a better date for Cupid. They apparently had plenty of time for it since it was well over an hour since they’d asked Cupid to meet up with them. They hadn’t originally told her where she needed to go when they’d met up with her that morning. At the time, they’d focused more with supporting her and trying to instill her with confidence in herself. They’d brought her breakfast and kissed and bit her neck just like Dean had told them. They told her that they’d text her the directions of where to meet them once the time came for them to celebrate her birthday, so it could still stay a surprise to the very end. Then, they’d just left her to her work, so they didn’t distract her for too long. Maybe that interruption was part of why she was late, but it didn’t bother them too much. What she was doing was important, and they were proud of her no matter how long it took.

An hour started to turn into several hours, but they were still confident that Cupid would show up. “She’s coming,” they assured the staff of the 21 Club when they came to comfort Belphegor, apologizing for Cupid not being there. “She’s just running a little late is all.” They all gave Belphegor a look of pity, which they didn’t understand, and left them to continue waiting. Several people approached them like this as the hours went on. Nearly all of the couples thanked Belphegor for paying for their meals. They all assured Bells that even though this ‘didn’t work out,’ they’d still find the one someday. Belphegor didn’t know what they meant by that and primarily elected to ignore those kinds of comments altogether. There were starting to be fewer and fewer couples in the restaurant anyways, so they wouldn’t have to hear it for much longer.

Maybe she doesn’t really like you as much as you think she does, spoke the Void. Belphegor ignored them just as much, if not more. They might not have understood love that well yet, but they knew more than they did before. They were confident in the fact that Cupid loved them. She’d said it multiple times, and they’d always believe her. They knew, just as strongly, that they loved her too. It added to their resolve to stay here and wait for her no matter how long it took.

Another hour passed. All of the couples Belphegor had invited were gone now, replaced with other customers so the restaurant could keep its business going. Bryson had left too, and Snoop Dog had spent the past half hour sitting with Belphegor. “What I’m saying is fuck bitches.”

Belphegor nodded, not understanding what he was talking about but just agreeing with him. “Fuck bitches,” they repeated.

“Exactly!” He nodded and sighed. “Aight, I better get going. I’ve got another gig in an hour, but it was cool kickin’ it with you.”

“Fo shizzle,” Belphegor grinned, quoting what he’d often said to them. “I’ll tell you how it goes once Cupid gets here and we finish our date.”

Snoop Dog sighed and waved them off before taking off. “See you later, kid.”

“Bye!” they called after him and continued waiting for Cupid.

Eventually, it got to the point where it was near the time for the restaurant to close up. One of the waiters came out to talk to Belphegor. “So she still isn’t here yet?” he asked. Belphegor shook their head. “Well, you better order now, or you won’t be able to anymore. I can’t get her to show up any sooner, but what do you want to eat?”

Belphegor glanced over at Cupid’s empty seat. They didn’t want to order without her, but at this point they had to. “I’ll have the Speakeasy Steak Tartare, the 21 Burger, and the 21 Express.” They’d decided hours ago what they wanted to eat, but they just picked something for Cupid based on what they knew she liked. She would’ve wanted the burger, and the last thing was a dessert they could share once Cupid got here. The waiter went off to the kitchen to put in their order, and Belphegor continued waiting. After several minutes, Cupid still wasn’t here, so they sent her a text. They’d sent her several already.

[Sent 5:02 PM]: Hey, here’s the directions. [Link attached] [Sent 6:33 PM]: Don’t worry about being late. I’m still here. Take your time :) [Sent 8:21 PM]: In case you get here in the next minute or two, I’m just going to the bathroom really quick. I didn’t leave you, I promise. [Sent 10:49 PM]: They said I had to order now, so I just ordered for you. I hope that’s okay, but we can pick up something else somewhere else if you don’t like it. [Sent 11:24 PM]: I hope things are going okay for you. I know you can do it! And if you need anything, just let me know. [Unsent 11:25 PM]: I lov

They closed their phone as the waiter arrived with their food. Belphegor thanked them, and they went off to help other tables. They waited a few more minutes, just in case Cupid got there, but in the end, they couldn’t hold back from eating their own food. They managed to finish it all, and Cupid’s food still remained untouched. As it got closer to closing time, it became clear that she wasn’t going to make it in time to eat her food at the restaurant. Belphegor asked for a to-go box, and put both her food and their dessert away. They at least had enough decency to not eat dessert without her. Still, they waited. They waited until the restaurant wouldn’t let them wait anymore.

“I’m sorry she stood you up,” said their waiter. “But honestly, with as much as you did, if she stood you up, she doesn’t deserve you.”

Belphegor scowled. “She deserves everything!” they snapped. “And you don’t know anything about her.”

The waiter held up their hands defensively. “Okayyy, but you still need to go. We’re closing for the night. I’ll have someone help you carry your things out, and you can wait outside for her if you want, but we’ve got to finish cleaning here.” Belphegor sighed, calming down a little to do what the waiter asked. The remaining staff carried their things outside, and Belphegor sat on the steps to the restaurant, still waiting.

#ofcupidslove: happy birthday #self para

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

Text

Jae’s Divine Intervention ||| Wonpil x Reader, Jae & Reader

Summary: Jae finds out about your crush on Wonpil and naturally takes the mick out of you. And when you get to play detective, you find out he’s perhaps more supportive than you would normally imagine. Genre: Humour, fluff [if you guys dont find this funny then i... its just me] Warning(s): Some cursing all done in jest (2x sh*t) Word Count: 7735 Theme Song: Tonight - The Solutions; Dive - iKON; Hold - Winner AN: A request from anon, hope you enjoy! I’m sorry it took a while, it’s a lot longer than I usually write tho so I hope that makes up for it gender neutral reader

~~~

“Wonpil?!”

“Jae, I swear to christ—”

“Wonpil?!” Jae’s voice was rising in pitch by the second, a look of astounded horror on his face.

“Yes, Wonpil, what’s so—”

“Our keys? The snake? Our snake that plays the keys?”

“Really, you’re still using that? That’s like, three years old Jae—”

“You—you took one look at the pink sweater and went hmmm, yes, this is the hot stuff, real sexy—”

“Jae!”

“—any man that wears this I will date him on the spot—!”

“Jae!”

The man cackled, leaning right back into his gaming chair with his head tipped over the side. “Oh my god this is just...!”

You pressed your tongue to your cheek, waiting for the grown man to gather himself up. Though, knowing Jae, it could well take a while. “You finished?”

He swung back, elbows coming to his knees with his eyes incredulous. “Kim Wonpil?”

“Yes.”

“Not Brian?”

“Why would it be Brian?”

He inhaled through his teeth, tutting. “It’s always Brian. And then, of course, yours truly.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “I regret ever talking to you.”

He sat back, sending you a smirk. “Nahh, you would never regret me.”

“Can we just go back to discussing like, dinner tonight?” you glanced distastefully around at his room, taking note of the pile of laundry abandoned by his wardrobe. “Like I came into your lair for in the first place?”

“Hey, easy there—!”

“Honestly Sungjin would have a fit if he comes in here,” you announced, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Well it’s a good job he isn’t coming in here.” Jae easily met your stare, pursing his lips, knowing full well that starting a battle with him would be the hardest you could try to win in the dorm. You backed down, but didn’t shy away from his stare as he pressed his fingertips together, taking on the role of a faux mastermind, “But no, dinner can wait, because this—this—is much more intriguing.”

Taking in the nod of his head, and the smug grin on his features, you realised that you weren’t going to escape as you’d hoped. Might as well be comfortable.

“Now,” he began once you took a seat on his bed, flicking a rogue sock to the floor, “start from the beginning. When did you realise that you were hopelessly in love with this, Mr Kim.”

“Since when was this an interrogation?” you interjected. “Also I am not ‘hopelessly in love’!”

“Infatuated?”

“No!”

“Lovesick?”

“Not a bit!”

“Helplessly inclined on the edge of your seat to hang upon his every little word?”

You didn’t even answer him that time and merely glared at him.

He nodded pensively, patting a finger against his chin as he murmured, “In denial, interesting...”

“What?!”

He changed tact. “Do you not know the exact time for your realisation for your deep feelings?”

“Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you,” you sulked, folding your arms crossly. He let out a quiet ‘aww’, which you ignored to the best of your capacity. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’m just trying to work out if you are,” he cleared his throat, “fit for my closest colleague and good friend. After all, we’ve been through so much, I wouldn’t want any harm to come to him—”

There were many things wrong to his wistful, jesting sentence, but there was one thing that you had to refute: “Last week you told Sungjin you would sell Pillie out for half a churro.”

His smart mouth stopped for a few seconds, and you figured briefly that you’d perhaps won and could leave. Alas, you were mistaken.

“Refers to Mr Kim as ‘Pillie’, indicating a very special degree of endearment, interesting...”

You groaned, falling back onto the rest of the mattress, asking the world what you’d done to deserve this.

Truth be told, Jae wasn’t worried for his bandmate or you in the slightest. Hearing your accidental slip of your feelings, everything seemed to come together at once and fit like two missing jigsaw pieces. You both had traits that accentuated the other, and you got along so well. If you two got together, he discerned, there would be few power couples that could compete.

He didn’t understand shipping culture, but this was perhaps his one exception. It just made sense! His soft charms next to your harder ones, your sense next to his sunny optimism, the both of you still sharing much in common.

“Six months,” you suddenly admitted.

“Hmm?”

“My, you do delight in my torment,” you grumbled before shooting him a look that softened as you continued, the memory trickling to the surface and making it impossible for you to not smile. “I’ve liked him for six months. It hit me when he fell asleep on my shoulder on our trip up to Incheon.”

One of those shared things being bouts of shyness.

He decided in that moment that it was time for some divine intervention.

“That’s a long time ago,” he mentioned, “and you haven’t done anything about it?”

“How could I?” you countered, though it was more sad than feisty. “How do I confess to the gentlest, happiest soul? How am I supposed to even know if he likes me back? He’s cuddly with everyone, you know.”

One glance at your crestfallen eyes that shone through your little chuckle lit a spark in his head.

“Don’t you worry, Y/N. God works in mysterious ways,” he reassured, sending you a wink.

And so began the grand unravelling of The Great Jae’s plan.

Step 1: Establish if the Feelings are Mutual

The first step, as Jae understood it, was crucial—nothing else could be done until he knew if the keyboardist also had a whopping crush on his friend. And they had made some fair points about how hard it would be to calculate whether Wonpil was just being friendly affectionate or more than that.

So, to get the answer cleanly without collateral, Jae concocted a plan so cunning he could put a tail on it and call it a weasel.

The next day, Jae slipped into the practice room, after locating his whereabouts through a super secret and effective method dubbed as ‘asking Sungjin’. He strode up to the keyboard set where the younger was staring intently at one of the keys, swiftly adopting a confident stance—he would not be swayed by any sneak attacks, and especially not attempted deflections with puppy eyes: a weapon he knew his bandmate was highly proficient in.

Hearing him mumbling about whether they should invent a H note, Jae made the choice to enact Step 1, taking advantage of the possible surprise characteristic.

“Wonpil, do you like Y/N?”

Peering up with his classic bright smile, Wonpil answered him swiftly, “Yeah!”

Jae frowned, the response seeming too quick. He had to comprehend it as a misunderstanding of his question. He pressed the charge. “Well, yeah, I figured you liked them, but I meant it as in more of a—”

“I know how you meant it, hyung,” he looked back at the keys, testing a C tentatively.

“Oh.” Jae was surprised to say the least. “How did you...?”

“I’ve been waiting for one of you to ask me,” he explained poutily, “you always seemed to tease me about it when I didn’t have someone, and then as soon as I actually fell, not a peep.”

Jae had to admit that the entire exchange had caught him off guard, as he became distinctly aware of how slowly the cogs were turning in his head. “You were... waiting?”

He nodded urgently at the sound board, twisting a dial as he held his ear closer to the instrument.

“You know the sound isn’t on right?”

“The key is squeaky.”

“Oh.”

“Of course I was waiting,” Wonpil replied simply, taking a simpering pause, “aren’t you going to ask me?”

Jae watched as the younger suddenly sat up and swung himself to look at the legs of his keyboard stand, giving them a good wobble. There was no doubt a squeak then.

“Ask what, about what you like about them?” he suggested, not really sure himself.

“Finally!” The younger threw himself back out from underneath the instrument. “Everything, hyung, I think I’m actually in love! Their laugh, their kindness, their eyes, their jokes—I feel like I’m going to burst whenever I see them, like into just, laughter, I can’t stop smiling, I just want to hug them and kiss their nose...” When he knocked his head back up to him, his smile was even brighter, his cheeks lightly blushed. “Is this what Younghyun-hyung means when he says that love hurts?”

Jae was more than happy to hear proof—it meant Step 1 was a success after all—but hearing the sap did mean he had to hide his grimace. But now he was presented with a more severe problem, as he knew full well that wasn’t what the bassist, who could dip into the realms of emo territory, meant at all by that phrase.

It didn’t mean he was going to explain it. Especially seeing those eyes brimming with adoration for his closest friend—he cursed at himself giving into the puppy eyes after all.

“Yeah, probably,” he answered vaguely, opting to change the subject, “well, I’d better be off, thanks!”

“Hey, hyung, where do you think you’re going?” Wonpil called after him as he attempted to make a tactical retreat, having gathered the information he needed.

Jae turned around, lying through his teeth as his brain searched for an excuse. “I... well, I need to go and do...”

“Without wishing me good luck on fixing my keyboard stand?” he enquired, pouting childishly from the other side of the room.

“Good luck...?”

“Ok, you can go!” he announced, sending a wave. “Bye!”

And with that, Jae exited the practice room, frowning at his reflection in the glass of the window as he passed through. Wonpil was strange sometimes, that was for sure.

It didn’t matter in the long run though, it was going to be your problem soon rather than his—a thought that elicited a snicker from him—and with Step 1 complete, he could proceed to Step 2.

Step 2: Create the Confession Arrangement

Jae had figured that the third step would have required the most work, but he had be drastically wrong. He’d presumed coming up with the perfect scenario for a confession would have been easy, but once he’d sat down in the living room to think in peace, an hour later he found himself lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, without a single idea in his head.

Chasing the tails of all the ideas that taunted him and skipped just out of reach every time in his head, he barely heard the sound of someone else entering the fray. And he would have continued to have done, had the newcomer not come to stand beside him and peered over his sprawled body.

“Hyung, are you ok?”

The deep voice snapped his eyes from where they were transfixed on the ceiling to the cherubic face of Dowoon, currently in the process of devouring a pretzel.

Jae snorted, still barely comprehending his presence. “Of course.”

The younger tilted his head to see him somewhat the correct way up. “Are you sure? You’re laying on the floor.”

“I am aware, and yes, a hundred percent,” he answered, putting on a confident front as best he could, “this, young padawan, is the sight of a master at work.”

Dowoon hummed in an agreement of sorts, “Oh, right.” He took a deep bite of the sweet dough. “What are you working on?”

Jae finally recognised the notable rustling of a paper packet, his eyes falling to the treat. “I am devising the most wondrous plan the world has seen to—is that my vanilla pretzel?”

“No.”

He said it so quick and devoid of emotion there was no way to tell whether it was a lie or not. Jae was left peering up at the man as he took another bite, who sent him a thumbs up as a form of endorsement. “Right. Well... I am devising a plan that will get Wonpil and Y/N to admit their feelings for one another and finally unite as the planet’s best ship and sail off into the distance together!” A victorious grin on his lips, he looked like a man that had already found success. “I have already completed Step 1 with peak success, now I must move to Step 2 and—”

“What was Step 1?”

“Finding out whether their feelings were mutual, of course!” Jae guffawed, surprised that Dowoon could not connect the two dots.

He peered over to him again to see him frowning as he angled himself to take the final bite of the pretzel. Before he could ask what the matter was, he preempted him, stating, “You didn’t know?”

That caught the eldest off guard. “What?”

“You didn’t know that they both like each other?” he glanced towards him, eyes expectant as he shoved the dough past his lips. “I thought everyone knew.”

“Well, I...” Jae coughed, quickly covering his back, “...there’s a difference between assumption and ascertaining proof, maknae. Now that I have evidence I may move onto Step 2.”

“And that is?”

Jae caught the tone of curiosity this time in the intonation of the man’s deep voice, making note to take advantage of it as soon as possible. “Create the confession arrangement. I must make a scenario where the only possible eventuality is that the two confess to one another their true feelings.”

Dowoon nodded, licking his fingertips free of leftover sugar.

“You wanna help?” he enquired, angling his head to get a better view of his band mate’s features, waiting for the smile to arise.

“Sure.” Discarding the paper bag on the coffee table nearby, he lowered himself to the floor, laying on his back and mimicking his elder.

“Good choice,” Jae clapped, turning his attention back to the ceiling.

“What ideas have you got so far, then?” Dowoon began, drumming his fingers against his stomach as he followed suit.

“Well...” Panic filtered through Jae’s system, as he suddenly realised he didn’t have even the tiniest beginnings of a thread to follow, let alone a part of a suggestion. “We could lock them in a room,” his mouth said before his brain could catch up. He cursed to himself in his head. No, that was stupid. It was so inhumane!

“What, like an escape room scenario?”

Jae’s head immediately tilted towards the man lying beside him. Yoon Dowoon, as things turned out, was a secret genius.

Without warning, he laughed, getting to his feet and grabbing the younger by his hand to pull him up after him. “Yes! Exactly like an escape room!” He held him by the shoulders and asked, “Do you have any ideas for any puzzles? Or riddles? Could be an anagram, or a pattern somehow, maybe general knowledge based?”

Dowoon thought long and hard for a moment, and it showed on his face, his dark eyes going wide as his jaw dropped. “No, but I know where to get the keys to the locks on the doors.”

Their eyes met for a good few seconds as Jae mulled over the decision of whether to bring up how he had obtained such knowledge. He finally rationalised he’d ask at another less frantic time.

“Great!” he exclaimed, before ordering, “You go sort that. I’ll go get some pens and paper. Be quick!”

And so Step 2 was in motion.

Step 3: Organise the Confession Arrangement

“Ok, listen up soldiers,” Jae declared, “because here’s the plan.”

He was stood at the front of the work room beside a board that he’d stolen from the marketing block, proudly displaying a rudimentary plan of the dormitory and accompanied by several haphazard arrows drawn in a dying pen. He overlooked the rest of the room courageously, eyeing up his gang of abductees volunteers, who merely stared at him confusedly in return.

“Why am I here, again?” Sungjin suddenly enquired, glancing around the room. “This surely is one of those Things-We-Don’t-Tell-Sungjin-About things, right? I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to know about this.”

“But none of us do...!” Jae uttered, rolling his palms to encourage the others to catch onto his meaning. They didn’t. “None of us know about it, yeah? Because none of us did it!”

“But that makes no sense,” Sungjin rationalised immediately, “because someone will have had to have set all the puzzles up?”

Jae didn’t have an answer to that. To both a blessing and a curse, however, he didn’t have to reply to that question. He just got another one in its place.

“I’m sorry, wait, what are we even doing?” Younghyun interjected, glaring at the hastily dictated plan with a curled lip.

“Getting Wonpil and Y/N together, we’ve been over this, Brian.”

“Surely they can just... do it themselves though, right?” Sungjin countered, squinting at the header of the board. “It really doesn’t require an all-out, multi-step plan—is this Step 3?”

“Good to see you’re checking the diagram,” Jae retorted.

Younghyun’s voice was incredulous, “How many steps are there?!”

“Four.” It was Dowoon’s turn to interrupt, it seemed, and he piped up fluidly before Jae could try to regain any control upon the late night board meeting.

“What were steps 1 and 2?!”

“Step 2 was inventing this beautiful idea,” Jae started.

Only for Dowoon to finish, “Step 1 was him working out if Wonpil liked Y/N back.”

It was their turn to eye Jae up in disbelief, a chorus erupting:

“You didn’t know?!”

“How can you’ve not known?!”

“All he does is pine after them...!”

“Alright alright!” Jae called, pleading for the three to settle. To his fortune they did, but most likely only out of the prospective joy of him further making a fool of himself. “The past steps don’t matter, I need your help now to complete Step 3. You will all reap the benefits of Step 4, when this is all a success because—as you said—all Wonpil does is pine after Y/N. This,” he pointed assertively to the diagram, “will put a stop to all that!”

Silence settled over the room as the three all glanced at each other, all nodding in some form in agreement.

Jae took the chance and continued, his hand laying out the directions on the board as he spoke, “So, all we have to is move Wonpil to Y/N’s room, and set up the puzzles in there. Sungjin, Dowoon, you’re on set-up, Brian you’re on lift duty. It is all objectively simple, but one wrong move could wake either of them up thus exposing the entire ploy and I’ve yet to come up with an excuse so you’ll be on your own.”

“Of course,” Younghyun muttered, not even bothering to look Jae in the eye to convey the sense of how done he was.

“You’re not helping?” Dowoon piped up, his soft features portraying a slight hue of hurt.

“I can’t, Y/N already expects me. If I’m caught then there’s zero opportunity of a follow up plan—at least one that features me,” Jae explained, ignoring the mumbles of ‘perhaps it would be better that way’ that echoed around the room. He shot a look to the one he suspected the most of being the owner of said grumblings, watching as he leant back in his chair.

“Can this not at least wait ‘til tomorrow?” Younghyun requested, emphasising his point with a yawn.

“No! Y/N is out Saturday, and regardless we must strike while the iron is hot!”

This sent the energy of the room from benevolent boredom to startled flurry.

“It’s happening right now?!” The leader desperately looked to the eldest for reassurance that this was most certainly not the case, only to find none.

“Yep,” he stated, a shrug on his shoulders and a smirk on his lips. “Once you’re done, you make sure you leave no trace of yourselves and lock the door. Leave the key on the living room table and then you may return to your own rooms and do what you wish—as long as there is no noise. If their sleep is interrupted, the plan could quickly go south,” he finished with a clap, “now, positions everyone! And good luck!”

With only a few groans, the three practically sprung into action, much to Jae’s surprise. Dowoon piled up the props and prompts riddled with such in his arms, Sungjin holding the door for him and Younghyun who both head out in quick succession.

“Thank you, Sungjin,” Jae called to the door. He received an expression of many emotions—disdain, disbelief, bemusement—all around a set of very bright eyes. He exhaled abruptly in what was a laugh that demonstrated that mixture, before leaving with the shake of his head.

It was showtime.

You awoke gradually to the sun streaming through the wide gap between the curtains. Groaning, you cursed to yourself about how you’d forgotten to close them the night before.

After admitting that if you wanted to go back to sleep or even just lay in your bed in peace for a bit longer the curtains would have to close, you sat up, only to swear you had shut them the night before.

Rolling out of the covers dozily, you hobbled over to the window, squinting against the light, where upon the curtain tie you found a piece of paper dictating a series of hand-drawn triangles in shades of pink, grey and white. Rubbing your eyes you tried to detach it, only to find it secured with string.

Feeling confusion flush through your bones as quickly as the sleep left them, you looked across the room to see another sheet of thin card this time, roughly torn at the corner and branded with a giant, rounded, crimson splodge adorned with a malformed triangle of green.

Both thoughtless and speechless in entirety, your eyes frantically searched the room for further signs of intrusion. To your disturbance you found your room littered with rudimentary placards, decorated with strange arrows directing to one another, or strange looped calligraphy. One was stuck crudely to a Star Wars shopping bag, and as much as you enjoyed The Rise of Skywalker, you definitely did not have a bag for it. Another was blatantly an anagram. Making the mistake of looking up you were confronted with a gigantic poster of a film with the title and cast heading covered by MS Paint swirls. The image depicted seemed familiar, but it didn’t make their staring faces any less intimidating as they glared at you from your ceiling. It was as if you’d walked into a nightmare that was haunted by puzzless.

“What the actual, ever loving f—” Your voice cut off as soon as your gaze finally rested back upon your bed. Only to find someone else in it.

Thoroughly creeped out, your brain ricocheting through thoughts and questions like they were caught in a hurricane—who is that, how long have they been there, they were sleeping right next to me, they snuck into my room, is it a sasaeng, did they do anything—you were ready to charge towards the door and yell your lungs out for help.

Until the figure shifted in their sleep, their arms thrown up cutely by their head which peaked out from behind the duvet. It was Wonpil.

Breath catching in your throat, your hand clasped itself to your mouth in an effort to not shriek in surprise more than anything.

You’d shared your bed with Wonpil. He’d been right beside you, his beautiful face just inches from yours, sleeping peacefully with his hands sweetly gripping the covers and his adorable little snores—

Your heart lurched at the image your mind conjured, for it to then crash over the fact that he had the audacity to sneak into your room. The conundrum before you left you in turmoil—you couldn’t believe that you’d fallen so hard for a man who would break into your room in the middle of the night and disregard your privacy so blazonly.

It didn’t make any sense. You’d known Wonpil for a while, and he showed so much respect the entirety of that time. Yes, he was clingy, but you could think of multiple occasions where you had told him to back off and give you space, because you were stressed or angry with someone else or even just too hot to let him lay on your shoulder, and every time he did. You couldn’t think of a single time when he came into your room without knocking either.

But was that enough to discount the ‘first time for everything’ rule?

Given the circumstances, perhaps it was.

Regarding the mess of your room again, it was plausible that Wonpil could have put up some of the weird pieces of card, but he couldn’t have done it all—not without help at least. Taking in the height of your ceiling, he was too short to reach it. Had someone stood on your bed you would have woken up, there was no doubt about it, and you didn’t have a desk in your room, so there was no chairs to stand on. The nearest ones were in the others’ rooms, but it seemed too far of a stretch—especially since you knew that there was one person that could reach.

Jae.

You glared in disdain at the corner of your room as if you were on The Office, until you remembered that you weren’t alone in the room.

Taking a deep breath you silently made your way across your rug to the side of your bed. Kneeling in the soft cotton you took in the sight of Wonpil closer this time, resisting the urge to stroke his soft cheek that he’d puffed out as he pouted in his sleep. Perhaps it wouldn’t be long before he woke.

“This wasn’t you, was it,” you murmured to him, taking gentle delight in how he wriggled towards you in his sleep at the distant sound of your voice. He looked so sweet, and the concept of being able to wake up to him beside you every morning made heat rush to your cheeks like a tsunami.

He was so good at making you smile, he could do it without even trying. The thought reminded you of when he had gone out of his way to somewhat try to, making you his chosen target for the only ‘prank’ he’d ever performed. He’d decided that he would for his prank debut place tiny plastic dinosaurs around the place for you to run into. You’d been bemused, but only for a day, quickly finding him out after catching him placing one in the fridge.

It was fortunate that you’d been reminded of the memory—even if you were primarily focused on how angelically he’d giggled a threadbare excuse that neither of you believed for a second but only made you fall in love further—as it that had been a while ago, and filling your room with strange and distastefully carried out puzzles was not what you figured his prank comeback would be. He would at the very least make them look nice.

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” you whispered, tucking the blanket further to his chin to keep him warm before getting to your feet again. You had to admit, you got a bit of a rush out of playing detective, and with a theory hot on your mind, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you found evidence that proved it.

First you checked the door it discover it locked as you had expected. Then you moved to the puzzles. Staring intently at the placards, you found that they all pointed to someone who was either awful at editing and drawing alike, or had simply done it in haste and didn’t care for the visual outcome. However this was not as concrete as you’d imagined. You definitely couldn’t see it being anyone other than Jae but after checking several puzzles and not seeing a single bad joke or reference in sight, you were beginning to doubt your first impressions.

Hearing the bed creak and a groggy whine muffled by a yawn, you flicked your head away from your wardrobe. There you found Wonpil sat up in a nest of your duvets at his waist, with dishevelled hazel tresses endowing him with faux cat ears or sorts. He was barely awake and hardly functioning, blinking lethargically while he slowly returned to the world of the living.

“Morning,” you greeted with a stutter, clearing your throat sheepishly straight after.

His lips spread cutely into a grin. “Morning...!” he sang.

It took several minutes of you trying to maintain your gaze on the messy art piece that was sleepy Wonpil, before giving up and disappointedly returning to the barely-legible riddle in your hands, for the man to finally speak with up with a frown.

“Wait, why are you in my room?” he enquired, rubbing his nose. “Did you sneak in...?”

“Actually you’re in mine,” you corrected, squinting at the calligraphy so as to let him come to terms with the situation.

His eyes opened in a flash, glancing around the room in astonishment. “Oh my god why am—I’m in yours?!” He gushed with apologies. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t sneak in I promise, I don’t remember coming in here! I don’t understand... did I sleepwalk...?”

“If you did it would be a first,” you stated, chucking the paper to the bin near your closet and staggering to your feet, “it’s ok, Pil, I’m not mad. Besides, I think you were carried.”

“Carried?”

“You always were a heavy sleeper. But that does mean that Younghyun or Dowoon are in on this, which means I don’t understand what this whole thing is,” you explained, glancing up at the ceiling and sighing exasperatedly, “do you recognise that movie?”

Following your line of sight, he jumped at the sudden pair of eyes that he found staring at him. He shook his head. “N-no. Y/N... what’s going on?”

“Apparently the guys decided that for their latest prank they were going to make an escape room of sorts, and then stuck you in here with me for double the fun.”

“But why?”

You shrugged. “I guess they’ll open the door if we figure out all the puzzles of something. Problem is these puzzles are like, stupidly hard.” You pointed over to his right. “Like, why is there a mutant tomato on my wall?”

“Ew,” Wonpil said with a grimace as he beheld the visage of the red splodge.

“I know right. Whichever one of the did it should never consider art school. Like, ever.”

Silence fell over the two of you as your eyebrows knit together, once again thinking over the possible answers to any of the dozens of puzzles. Wonpil meanwhile slipped out of your blankets and headed towards the door.

You had half a mind to call out to him and say it was locked, but you figured he’d already worked that out, so instead you watched him out of curiosity.

He came to the door with a stop, rattled on the door handle once, then twice, before pressing his face close to the wood. “Sungjin!” he wailed, before pressing his ear to it to listen.

For several moments there was complete utter quiet over the room and the dorm outside. The only sound that could be heard was the birds outside, and even they broke into quiet when they heard an unusual absence of chatter.

Then out of the blue Wonpil stiffened in his place, before leaning in even further, his features alert.

After a few seconds you enquired mimicking the quiet, “What is it?”

“I think I just heard someone tell Sungjin that he ‘needed to remain strong’,” Wonpil looked at you quizzically, “what does that mean?”

“Sungjin’s in on it too?” You were hugely surprised by that, so much so that you couldn’t hide it in your voice, the volume tipping out of the realms of a murmur. You’d thought it was a certainty that Sungjin was not aware of what was going on, because he was too mature to play along. But you’d clearly gotten him wrong this time around. “Th-that must mean this is serious,” you continued, slipping into a slow pacing motion across to the window and back, “that it’s super funny, or that he goes to seriously gain something from this.”

“But how is this funny, I’m not laughing...!” Wonpil said with a pout audible on his lips. He wondered if there was a funnier side that he was missing out on due to his concern for you overpowering it. He didn’t like how you stepped back and forth, even if it was only slow and steady and hardly impulsive. He didn’t want you to be stressed, he wanted you to be happy. It dawned on him that it was becoming increasingly harder for him to hold himself back from meeting you part-way and bring you to a stop, his hands brushing your shoulders and squeezing them gently in reassurance as he met your eyes— He shook his head, sending him hurtling out of his imagination just in time to hear you agree.

“Exactly, unless he wrote some of the riddles and his sense of humour was not what I thought it was—what we thought it was.”

“But Sungjin would never use stuff this bad!” he cried, hand motioning to the poorly executed diagrams while his eyes trailed away from you and onto the tomato on the wall. “He would be much more careful than... that—I don’t think he ever could make something that ugly!”

“Exactly!” you echoed his tone of urgency. “Which means he stands to gain! But what the hell does he get out of locking two people in a room with a bunch of evil puzzles?”

Watching your form become gradually tenser by the second, Wonpil’s resolve against his desires loosened before unravelling entirely.

He strode unusually powerfully across the floor, his body blocking you and your pacing in your tracks. His proximity startled you, but as his hands came to gently held your shoulders you realised how tense your body had accidentally become. Taking a deep breath as best you could with the biggest crush you’d ever had standing right in front of you, you slowly began to calm down. It was just a stupid prank, there was really no reason to get worked up to that extent, or anywhere near it.

Your thoughts drifted from the circumstances you were currently trapped in however, supplanted by the feel of Wonpil’s touch, and the way his eyes met yours. His eyes were so pretty you felt yourself sink head over heels in them whenever you accidentally made contact. And the emotion that filled them to the brim at that moment and let them glimmer even more than normal in the radiant sunlight caught you even further off guard. You’d seen it a lot, even in large doses, and how it made him look even softer, even more adorable, made you almost spill words from between your lips. However like this, you could barely handle it.

“Sorry,” you said, willing your voice to remain stable unlike your heartbeat.

“No, don’t be sorry! We’ll get...” It felt like he didn’t want to end his sentence but forced himself to. “So, they’re all in on this?”

His hands fell away from you, just as you looked away from him, unable to catch your breath otherwise. As it turned out it was a lucky move at the right moment. “Yeah, it seems so. N-now why? That’s the question. I don’t know, but what I do know is—”

Having pulled away, you’d begun to walk back to the door, thinking up the words to perhaps call out and talk them into freeing the two of you. Though as you did, your peripheral caught the odd transformation your closet door had done.

After performing a ridiculously overplayed doubletake that would have appeared to any onlookers out of context as fake, you noticed that there was a nearly full-sized image of a deep chestnut archway with the poor illusion (due to the angle) of a small opening inside. Drawing nearer you were able to make out a speckled grate suspended in the right wall of the wooden box.

What the image printed over three sheets of paper was sprung to your head immediately, much alike the jigsaw pieces jumbled in your head slotted together.

It was a confession chamber.

You had to confess, but not to a priest. To Wonpil.

“God works in mysterious ways...” you remembered from the previous day, uttering the words as you replayed them in your mind. “Jae, you shit.”

Wonpil came to your side, peering round to take in your features, searching for an explanation in the sheer beauty he always found there. “What’s wrong?”

“I know how to open the door!” you announced proudly, the sense of victory washing away as you came face to face with what you had to do however.

Wonpil’s characteristic sunny smile rose to his cheeks, all while you sat there barely able to stomach your anxiety. “Yay! What do we have to do?”

You didn’t know how to go about it. You didn’t know whether to tell him, to ramble, to keep it simple, or to just kiss him like you wanted to for however long it had been. “Confess,” was all that tumbled from your mouth, and you immediately regretted speaking at all.

The subject of your affections stood as silently as you did before him. You could see the rush of thoughts in his head, his cheeks flushing as he finally spoke up, “Confess our... sins?”

“Not sins, no...”

It was at that moment you realised your feelings were mutual. He wouldn’t look you in the eye like he always did, he was skipping over the obvious conclusion,and he wasn’t drastically denying a single thing. He didn’t run, nor hide, in fact he leant towards you. It was only a fraction of an angle, but with a small bite of his lip the air fled your lungs.

“Do you...” you breathed, taking a tiniest step towards him—you’d been so close already, but now he was practically against you, just not quite—as your fingers twitched at your sides, “do you want me to do it?”

His nod was strong compared to his voice which was so delicate, as if he couldn’t believe what was unfurling before him. “Please!”

With his encouragement you let those ready fingers ease up to the edge of his jaw, gracing the fine stubble there as you sank you palms against his cheeks and held your dreams in your hands. “Wonpil, I’ve liked you for so long... I fell for you, more than anyone I’ve ever met before. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Don’t say sorry, I didn’t tell you either,” he reminded with a chuckle, his dark eyes bright and shining and wide at you coming ever closer, “and not being near you makes my heart ache so please, just kiss me and make it stop forever.”

You didn’t have to be asked twice.

His hands barely had enough time to snake around your neck as you bridged the gap and let your lips meet at last. And it was like the whole world sighed in relief.

His lips were so warm, the softness etched with all his thoughts and his moments of anxiety and sadness. You wanted to kiss them all away, so that the only ones remained were the ones out of happiness, out of his smiles and playfulness.

It had been so long since you’d began dreaming of this moment, and now it was at last happening you never wanted it to end. But it had to end, and though you felt more than ready to deepen it, there was a click from the door behind you.

Springing away from each other in surprise, you immediately both looked over to the origin of the sound, your hands meeting in place of your lips.

“It worked?” Wonpil asked the air more so than you, his free fingers extending to the handle tentatively.

You drew to him, letting go of his hand to place your own on his shoulders a you peered over them. “I think it did!”

Taking a quick glance at you, he twisted the brass and pulled gently, his jaw dropping as a gap formed.

You were free. Though a small part of you was disappointed, probably completely interested in staying in close proximity to your crush without disturbances for as long as possible.

Except he was no longer your crush! Your heart lurched as the awareness dawned on you. Completely disregarding the situation, you mumbled so only he could hear, “Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?”

Wonpil turned his attention back to you, giggling as he stroked your hair. “Of course dummy. Did I not convince you?” He squished your cheek. “We can do it again if it’ll help!”

You had to laugh, wanting to roll with his suggestion entirely, though seeing a shadow approach through the gap in the doorway you had to turn the offer down for now. “Real soon I promise!” After noting his pout that very nearly overwrote your decision in one fell swoop, you continued, “Not when the person who organised this is right outside.”

Your boyfriend threw his head over his shoulder to see a head duck out of sight. You watched as his eyes swept the room before falling intently on the bed—more specifically, the pillows. “Do you want revenge?”

Catching onto his idea and grinning at how childish and petty it would be—in context that the plan had actually worked—you didn’t hesitate, wanting to get a piece of that ‘divine intervention’ that had thrown your morning into disarray when he could have at least warned you. Besides, it wasn’t like you could turn down a man so precious twice. It would be akin to heresy.

Grabbing both pillows you handed one to Wonpil and came to a halt by the ajar door. “Remember, play dirty when it comes to Jae. He deserves it.”

Sporting his characteristic sunny smile, your boyfriend let out what you had to discern was a cackle as he slipped through the door and led the charge. “You don’t have to tell me.”

A thwack resounded through the dorms from just outside your door and you had to stifle a laugh at the scream that followed.

Perhaps Wonpil didn’t need your help as you had admittedly first expected.

But where was the fun in that.

“I’m telling you we could’ve put the movie on the side of her wardrobe!”

“And I’m telling you it wouldn’t have fit!”

“...You’re never lifting me again.”

You gathered your breath after your surprise revenge assault, sending Dowoon and Sungjin an incredulous look as you passed. Clearly not all your deductions had been correct. Oh well, things had still played out correctly, and catching sight of Younghyun bringing your boyfriend into a side hug as he gushed about how you managed to save them both—clearly playing up the drama but hey, who were you to stop him, you had no qualms with being a knight in shining armour—made a proud blush rise to your cheeks.

Coming further into the living room, you intercepted Jae who had returned from your room after clearing everything up all by himself as you’d ordered.

“I still have no idea why you made me do all that!” he protested as soon as he caught your eye. “This had nothing to do with me! It was, hundred percent, Dowoon. Just Dowoon. He got sick and tired of your pining and...”

You folded your arms, expression proving just how much you didn’t believe his bullshit.

“You don’t believe me!” he exclaimed, hands flapping. “What have I done to deserve this! Am I not a good friend? Loyal? Like a brother—”

You sighed, shaking your head as you walked over to him, before slipping your arms quickly around his chest. He was startled by the sudden display of affection, but hugged you back nevertheless. “Of course I don’t,” you chuckled, “but we wouldn’t be friends if I did.”

He scoffed at your words, but tightened his arms around you with a smile. He couldn’t have felt prouder in that moment, especially with Younghyun being dragged by Wonpil out of the room [to head out and fetch groceries?] who was delightedly babbling about how soft his best friend felt to cuddle with for real this time. Sungjin meanwhile rolled his eyes at the exchange, padding away and back to the kitchen.

“Ok this means I can ask what made you work it out.”

You sputtered, though immediately gave in. “The confession chamber on the closet.”

“Ahh that was a good one,” he sighed happily, only to change tact soon after as the realisation sunk in, “wait that wasn’t even mine!” You laughed against him, you head tipping back as he searched the room for the true culprit. “Dowoon was that yours?”

You didn’t hear an answer, though hearing the curse that fell from Jae’s mouth offered enough indication to know that the response was in some shape or form affirmative.

Laughter bubbling away into the air, you slowly pulled yourself away from the friend that had practically become an older brother to you. He let you go smoothly, but before you parted from him fully, you stood on your toes and whispered, “Thank you,” a smile on your face that was almost as bright as the ones Wonpil always received.

He sent you a grin, followed by a wink, as you followed after your new boyfriend. Leaning so he could see round the corner, he laughed quietly at how you subtly shoved the other man out of the way so you could take Wonpil’s side.

His heart swelled as your hands naturally found each other’s, linking as if you’d been together for years. It came with a side of a dull ache, as that was what he wanted for himself too.

He wasn’t dismayed for long however. You now owed him after all, and you were well aware of it.

He couldn’t wait to see what you’d come up with.

~~~

AN: no one can stop me from referencing my own work lmao

also a blackadder reference for anyone who knows!

also in germany there is actually an H note apparently so... fun fact.

Masterlist

#wonpil x reader fluff #wonpil #wonpil day6 #wonpil fluff #platonic jae x reader #jae & reader #day6 x reader #day6 #wonpil oneshot #wonpil x reader request

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monstersandmaw · 5 years

Text

Orctober #3 - male half-orc x male character (nsfw) ‘Bait’

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Orctober stories One and Two are up on Patreon (linked below), and this has been previewed on there too, and has had some truly wonderful comments that just made my day, so there might be a part two in the offing now. We’ll see.

Anyway, it’s a bit different in terms of format - it's not a reader insert, but I hope that doesn't matter.

It's a whopping 6914 words long, and I had an absolute blast writing it, so I really hope you enjoy reading it!! I know that 'Josslyn' is a female sounding name, but it's what this prince wanted to be called, so that's his name. :) I think it suits him anyway.

1. 'Ring' - male orc (Liam) x plus size female reader (very light nsfw) 2. 'Mindless’ - female orc (Khara) x male reader (nsfw)

---

A silver-trimmed banner caught and snagged in the night breeze as the crown prince strode along the battlements of his father’s castle. The old king’s words still rang in his ears and he ground his teeth, breathing hard and fighting the urge to shout, to yell, to cry. Where was the man who had raised him? The man who had played with him, taught him to ride his first pony, and helped him with his tutor’s tasks when he’d struggled? The man who had taught him the meaning of the ideals of justice and loyalty, of servitude to the people? How could old age ravage a man so much in the mind while taking so little from his body?

The king was in his seventies, having had Josslyn later in life than many had expected, after his first queen had died in childbirth, leaving no heir. The king had the body of a man ten years younger, but the mind of a man a decade older. Joss had tried to keep his father’s unpredictable nature hidden from the council and from the people, and so far all that they had suspected was that the long-running war with the orcish peoples in the neighbouring kingdom was taking its toll on him, forcing him to become harder, stricter in a time of strife.

A guard nodded his resepcts at him as he passed and muttered, “Highness,” to which the prince responded with a small smile and a bow of his head as he swept past, his long, night blue cloak swirling behind him, the wind lifting his long black hair off his face.

A shout and commotion from the courtyard below brought two guards hurrying to his side as he peered down from the wall, but he waved them away with a gentle gesture and watched as a tall, rather bedraggled figure was hauled out from the guards’ supply room in the outer bailey and dumped in the freezing mud beside the castle well. Spear-tips were poised at his throat immediately, and as the flickering light of a wrought-iron brazier illuminated his features, Josslyn saw that he looked orcish, though somewhat more delicate than the brutes who currently inhabited the castle dungeons and gladiatorial rings across the country.

Scuttling silently down one of the nearby stone staircases, the prince emerged in time to hear the guards demanding who the creature was and what the hell he was doing sneaking around the royal castle at midnight. Josslyn wanted to know how the hell he’d got into the castle to begin with.

“Please,” the captive choked, his eyes screwed almost shut as a spear point hovered above his Adam’s apple, “Please, I only came looking… for… for work… I thought…”

“You thought we’d hire something like you? The king doesn’t employ beasts, not even to clean the latrines!” one of the guards sneered.

The prince approached at a steady walk, partly cloaked by the shadows of the courtyard and partly by the thick fabric of his heavy robes. “Why did you come here of all places?” he demanded of the orc and the guards startled at his sudden appearance.

“Your Highness, please,” one of them warned, holding out a protective arm between the captive and the crown prince. “We caught this half-breed orc sniffing around our supplies.”

“He managed to find a way past the gates - outwitting all the guards - and he speaks intelligently,” the prince said, staring at him with hard, black eyes, “And yet you still treat him like a cornered granary rat.”

“They’re all vermin,” the guard said, cheeks flushed with humiliation, jabbing the half-orc in the sternum with the butt of his spear and driving the wind from his chest.

“Stop,” Josslyn said in a voice of quiet command that stilled them all instantly. “Take him to the upper cells, and see that he’s fed and given water and a blanket, and some clean, dry clothes. I want to know exactly what he was doing here, but he’s in no condition to be questioned at the moment. Look at him.”

The guards returned their attention to their miserable captive and saw the way he shivered, his clothes sodden - presumably from swimming the moat - with the fabric clinging to his relatively slim body. With orcish blood, he should have been built like a mythical hero from a maiden’s tale, but Josslyn suspected that he saw high elf in the half-breed’s slender ears and delicate bone-structure. No high elf could bulk up, no matter how much meat he ate or how many press-ups he did, and unfortunately for the orc, it seemed he had inherited that trait from his elven parent.

“Highness?” the guard with his spear at the half-orc’s throat whispered. “You… You cannot be serious…?”

Josslyn simply turned his polished jet eyes on the guard and the man nodded once.

“Of course. Forgive me. It will be done as you say.”

The crown prince watched them haul the mysterious half-breed to his feet and lead him away. He stumbled and staggered, shaking violently from the cold as the chill of the mid-autumn night sank into his sodden clothes and skin, but he risked a glance over his shoulder and smiled gratefully at Josslyn. In answer, the prince nodded once and let his eyes fall to the spot in the mud where he’d been lying, his mind working.

An hour later, fighting the prickling tiredness in his eyes as midnight became one in the morning, Joss headed down to the cells and as he peered through the barred opening in the heavy wooden door of the cell, he found that the prisoner had been housed exactly as he’d commanded. He’d wrapped himself in a moth-eaten blanket but beneath it Joss could see the royal blue of a guard’s uniform, and beside the low, rickety bed was an empty wooden plate and set neatly atop it was a wooden beaker.

The prince had the guards unlock it and then he knocked before stepping inside. A guard tried to follow him in, only obeying protocol, but Josslyn asked her to wait outside. Reluctantly, the woman obeyed, and left the crown prince, the sole heir of the entire kingdom alone in a cell with a strange half-orc.

“Are you warmer now?” the prince asked as the orc rose shakily, woken by the rattling key in the lock.

“Yes, thank you, Highness,” he said, bowing low.

“Rise,” he snapped. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“My name is Tamas,” he said in a croaky baritone. Everything about him spoke of submission; the slope of his hunched shoulders, the angle of his head, his down-turned gaze - it was as if he were perpetually awaiting a blow to the back of the head. His hair was a muddy brown, shaved above his pointed ear on the left side of his head and falling loose and long to his shoulder on the right. He had a small, pale scar on his left cheekbone, and his skin was a muddy green, not dissimilar to the colour of the moat in high summer.

“And what are you doing here?” the prince pressed patiently.

Tamas took a deep breath and said, “I… I ran away from… I’ve been travelling for months… I thought…”

“Sit down,” the prince commanded, and the orc dropped heavily onto the bed behind him, knees simply giving way. His exhaustion appeared to be more mental than physical. “You are not full orc, are you?” the prince asked and Tamas shook his head.

“No, Highness. My mother was a woodland elf. Her people left me to die in the way of all unwanted elven children; she set me adrift in a basket on the river and I was picked up by an orcish mother miles downstream. She had lost her own child and thought to raise me. But… orcs are not kind to those of ‘watered down blood’. I…” he turned his gaze up and the prince was surprised to note that his eyes were a dark sapphire blue. In a strange way, he was quite beautiful, he supposed; a thought which surprised him all over again. All this he kept carefully hidden behind his usual mask of calm control.

“So you finally ran away,” the prince supplied. “And you decided to come here? To the enemy of your father’s people? Hardly the safest choice for you, I’d wager…”

Tamas nodded. “I had nowhere else to go.”

“Alight,” the prince said, folding his arms across his chest. “What services could you offer the crown?”

The half-orc lowered his head again and stared at his hands. The index finger of his left hand was crooked, as though it had been badly broken in the past and poorly set. He sighed, rubbing the knuckle, and said, “I am good with horses and animals,” he said, “But I can read and write and do arithmetic. I could help wherever is needed.”

“I doubt my father will make you his personal valet,” the prince snorted, amused. “But I will think on where to place you. For now, rest. The guards have been instructed not to bother you, but you understand why I must keep you in here a little longer?”

Again, he nodded. “I do, Highness. And… thank you…”

“I haven’t made you any promises,” he warned him.

“Perhaps not, but you have given me a chance. You’re the first person to treat me… well… not like an animal, since the border.”

“I presume folks thought you were a runaway slave?”

“Yes,” he said and shuddered.

With a final nod, the prince left him and gratefully began to make his way up to his chambers. Undressing alone in the simple finery of his room, he thought about the half-orc and realised he had had no idea how orcs treated their own. For all that they had been at war for nearly six years now, he knew next to nothing about their culture. As he lay down beneath the soft sheets and let the deep pillows cushion his royal head, he mused that it might be wise to use this half-orc to learn about their enemy’s culture. Surely if he’d been treated so abominably that he’d run straight to their enemy’s stronghold for shelter, Tamas would be willing to help him?

Thus a hesitant relationship was forged between prince and captive. Tamas was housed in a room in the servants’ quarters - much to their distaste - and to begin with, for an hour every day, he was released and attended the prince in his own chambers to instruct him in the nature and traditions of the orcish nation.

Josslyn was surprised to learn that Tamas had a wicked sense of humour, and that he was also rather fond of reading. After that, the prince asked him to accompany him to the library, and in a relatively short couple of months, the two had become tentative friends. Josslyn encouraged Tamas to speak out truthfully with his opinions to the prince, though only in private, and the two frequently engaged in lengthy and in-depth discussions late into the night. Josslyn still carried a dagger with him at all times, but he soon forgot about it. In time, the half-orc became something of a legend in the castle - the ‘sentient beast’ and the ‘prince’s pet’ were two of the kinder titles he acquired, but he promised Josslyn that he didn’t mind.

“I’m happy to have a roof over my head and a purpose before me,” he said meekly one afternoon when the prince brought it up again as the two of them sat in comfortable chairs in a side room of the library. It was a rare day off for the prince, and having spent the last week in the infirmary visiting the soldiers who returned from the front with horrific injuries, dealt largely by orcish weapons, he was grateful for the quiet and peace of the ancient hall of learning.

Tamas had offered to accompany him, but the prince had suggested that his might not be a face to show to the recently-returned warriors, and the half-orc had accepted without question, apologising for his insensitivity.

The prince felt those sapphire blue eyes on him again and he glanced up from his book to find his new friend staring at him. “What?” he asked gently.

The half-orc smiled, the gesture stretching around the short, almost slender tusks which protruded from his lower jaw. “I haven’t seen you this relaxed in weeks, that’s all,” he said, a warmth to his tone that struck Joss deeply. “It’s nice.”

He snorted and then drew in a deep breath. “I’m tired, Tam. I’m tired of this war and I’m tired of the toll it’s taking on my people. I want an end to it, but I don’t know how. I don’t know - after all I’ve learned from you and from visiting the front myself - how we can make a bridge with them, make peace with a culture so different.”

Tamas’ face showed obvious surprise and a small amount of shock. He closed the book in his hands and leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze met the prince’s directly. “You’ve visited the front?”

“Of course,” Joss said, a frown playing on his dark brows. “I wouldn’t be much of a leader if I sat at home in my comfortable castle while my people threw themselves at the orcish lines like the sea against the cliffs, would I?”

“Forgive me,” Tam murmured. “I… I didn’t mean to question your integrity. I’m just surprised. I’m sorry.”

Josslyn laughed and set his book down on the table beside his chair. “Come, let’s get a glass of wine. The sun’s going down and we’ve been sat here for hours. I need to stretch my legs.”

Tam stood, still looking a little stunned, as though his every belief had been called into question.

He was slow to follow his friend and the prince paused. “You alight?” Josslyn asked, laying a hand on Tam’s elbow.

The orc swallowed visibly and turned his searing blue gaze to the point where the two of them touched. His eyes then darted up to meet the prince’s and he smiled, though his dark skin still looked a little pallid. “Yes,” he croaked. “I’m sorry. Yes.”

“Come then,” he said again and walked away, leaving Tamas to stare after him for a moment before hurrying to catch up.

One evening, after the Beltane feast that marked the start of summer, Josslyn left the feast early. His father was being truly obnoxious, though mercifully this time he was only trying to get the crown prince to flirt with some visiting duchess or other, but Josslyn was having none of it. Tamas had not been invited to the celebrations, for obvious reasons, and Josslyn found himself aching for the easy rapport the two of them had built over the seven months or so that they had now known each other.

Instead of going to the servants’ quarters and bothering them all like a fox in a chicken coop, the prince headed to the privacy of the royal courtyard garden at the rear of the castle. Only those who tended the plants and members of the royal family were allowed here, and yet, as he sat on a stone bench with his head in his hands, he heard footsteps approaching.

Glancing up, his hand twitching towards the dagger at his hip, he nearly shot to his feet before he realised who it was. “Tamas?” he breathed. “What are you doing in here? You know this place is off limits…”

“Invite me to stay and I won’t be trespassing,” he smiled playfully. “But seriously, I’ll go if you want to be alone.”

“No,” Joss sighed, his spine slackening as he slumped back down on his bench. “Don’t go. How did you know to come here?”

“I was on my way back from the library when I saw you leaving the great hall. You looked thoroughly miserable… May I sit?”

“Of course,” he said, gesturing at the bench beside him. “Did you find anything interesting to read?”

“Mmm,” he hummed quietly, the deep sound somehow going straight through Josslyn. The quiet warmth of Tam’s presence beside him comforted him beyond expressing, and he leaned sideways and rested his body against Tamas’ side, his head falling to lie on Tam’s shoulder.

The half-orc’s hand suddenly slid over his own where it lay in his lap and he squeezed the prince’s fingers gently in his large grip.

“Tam,” Josslyn rasped, tears filling his eyes. “I’m so tired…”

“I know,” he said. “I can see it in your eyes every day. You give so much of yourself to your people. You take no time for yourself.”

There was soft wonder in his tone and Josslyn barked a quiet laugh. “It’s my duty as crown prince, Tam. My father, before he began to change, made me learn my duties young.” He sighed again and added, “I learned the oath I’ll take when I ascend the throne when I was only five. I had no idea what it meant then, but I do now.”

Tam’s arm came round his shoulders then and he held him close. “My people were entirely wrong about you,” he said very quietly.

“How so?”

He didn’t speak immediately, but the silence told Josslyn he was considering his words carefully. Another stereotype shattered, he thought as he realised just how deeply this half-orc cared about the words he spoke and the meaning behind them. “The orcs say you are little more than a spoiled, selfish brat of a princeling who spends his days watching orcs fight in the pits or being tended to by a harem of naked elven women… They did get one thing right about you though,” he added with a wry smile.

“Oh?” Joss asked, too tired to respond to the first comments, ridiculous as they were.

Tam chuckled and said, “They say you’re as beautiful as one of the fae. Apparently because your previous queen died and the kingdom had no heir, your father made a pact with the fae for you.”

Josslyn’s laugh rang around the courtyard, echoing off the statuary. He sat up and regarded Tamas with glittering dark eyes. “And here I thought ‘beauty’ to an orc was brute strength and an unquenchable bloodlust…”

Tamas shrugged. “Good thing I’m not a full orc then.”

The chill evening air had gradually become charged during their conversation, and Josslyn felt his lips parting slightly as he stared up at Tamas. The half-orc wasn’t much taller than the crown prince, but he had a few inches on him; enough to make Josslyn tilt his head back so that his hair fell down to tickle the hand that Tamas still had pressed to his back, though now it rested at the base of his spine.

Slowly, hesitantly, as though he would be shot full of arrows from the rooftops if he dared go through with it, Tamas leaned down and the two brushed their lips together in the briefest of kisses. The fleeting touch sent the blood straight to Joss’ groin and his breath hitched in his chest. “Tam,” he breathed.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, wide-eyed, wrenching himself back and standing, staggering as he half turning to go. “I’m… I shouldn’t…”

“Wait,” Josslyn commanded, standing and drawing himself to his full height. “Wait,” he said again, more gently, stepping over to him. He took his hand and tightened his grip.

The kiss that followed was all fierce, pent-up emotion and passion, and Josslyn found himself backed against the huge marble plinth of a statue of a faun, with Tamas chasing kiss after kiss. The half-orc hooked one of Joss’ legs around his hips and then picked him up, pinning him against the masonry hard enough to knock the breath from him. The prince gasped as Tamas ground his solid length against his own hardening cock through their trousers, and his head rolled back. Tamas shot out a hand to cup the back of the prince’s head before he clonked it on the stonework behind him, and Joss smiled bashfully at him.

They paused then, frozen in place, both breathing hard. “You… You want…?” Tamas asked uncertainly.

“Yes,” the prince whispered.

Kissing him one last time, Tamas backed off, setting the prince back on his feet, and the two of them readjusted themselves sheepishly as best they could before making their way through back stairwells and corridors to his private chambers.

No sooner had the door closed and the latch locked than the two of them were entangled again. They shed their clothes between the door and the bed, and Josslyn ran his palms over Tamas’ slim, lean chest, marvelling at the wiry strength of the half-orc who shuddered and gasped beneath the explorative touches of the prince. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, and as his chest heaved, Joss could see the muscles move beneath his green skin, his dark nipples hard and his cock dampening a spot in his underwear.

They fell backwards onto his huge bed in a tangle of limbs, and Joss tugged off the last of Tam’s clothes to free his impressive erection. Hard, the vein along its length full and prominent, his cock wept pre-come freely now, twitching as Josslyn stared openly at him.

“How… How do you want to do this?” the prince asked breathily.

In answer, Tamas parted his legs a little and the prince smiled, reaching across the orc’s prone body to his bedside drawers for a small vial of oil. Somehow he hadn’t expected Tamas to be the one wanting to take it, but he was too worked up to comment or mind.

When he slicked one finger with oil and slid it inside the orc, Tamas grunted and drove his head back into the bed, his legs falling wider apart, his cock bobbing eagerly as his hips bucked upwards into the intrusion. With his free hand, Joss dribbled more oil down the length of Tamas’ cock and then worked him with both hands until Tam was panting and grunting and cursing in orcish.

Josslyn knew only enough of the language to recognise it as orcish, and he leaned forwards, sliding his fingers out of Tam for a moment and earning a keening whine from him at the loss. In his sensitive ear he whispered, “You’re going to have to translate that for me, Tamas.”

“I said…” he gasped, struggling to speak as the prince returned his finger to him and caressed the bundle of sensitive nerves inside him, “I… I need to you fuck me… Highness.” His voice was beautifully unsteady and his eyes were screwed shut. His cock wept pre-come onto his hard abs, and he was squirming, desperate for more.

“You’re not quite ready yet,” Josslyn said, and this time he slid three fingers into the orc, stretching him, working him open until he was growling openly at him to fuck him.

Running his slick palm over his own cock and gasping at the sudden stimulation, Josslyn lined himself up and nudged into the ready heat. Already Tamas’ head lolled to one side. “Please?” he hissed, bucking weakly upwards, eyes opening a little as he half sat up in an attempt to guide Josslyn further inside him.

In one motion, Josslyn seated himself to the hilt inside Tam and the orc yelled with pleasure and immediately began to shake.

“Please, please, please,” he chanted until Joss began to move.

Slowly at first, he savoured the immense tightness of the orc around him, the heat, the shaking muscles desperate for release, but then he changed his angle slightly and Tamas let out another bellow of pleasure. Hitting him repeatedly in that sweet spot, the prince picked up his pace and lowered his head with the effort. His long hair fell forwards and started to stick to the sheen of sweat that had begun to form on Tam’s chest as he got more and more worked up.

The orc’s cock bounced between them, untouched and drooling as he clutched at the sheets beneath him and growled incoherently. “I’m…” he snarled. “Please!” Despite the pleasure of Joss’ cock repeatedly pounding into his prostate, it wasn’t quite enough.

“Are you going to come for me if I touch you?” Joss hissed, breathless and sweaty with exertion and pleasure.

“Yes!” he gasped.

“I’m close,” the prince admitted, the rhythm of his hips faltering.

“Don’t stop,” Tam demanded, but when Joss’ hand wrapped around Tamas’ cock and worked his shaft once, twice, he suddenly went rigid beneath him and spilled over his stomach with a barely stifled scream. His tusks bit deep into the back of his wrist as he fought to keep quiet as he clenched and twitched, and the combination of sound, sight, and sensation tipped the prince over the edge too. He came almost silently, a blinding heat ripping through him as he emptied himself into the half-orc.

Trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm, Josslyn fell forwards onto Tamas’ heaving chest and he whined as he landed on the mess of release smeared over his abs, but he was too tired and too blissed out to care just yet. Tamas’ heartbeat thundered in his ear as he laid his head on his chest and the orc lay there, lax and spent beneath him, breathing hard, eyes closed, one arm on Josslyn’s back, the other palm up and limp on the sheets beside him.

Eventually they grew chilly, and Joss disappeared to clean up in the adjacent bathroom. When he emerged, swathed in a rich black and gold, silk dressing gown, he found that Tamas had fallen asleep exactly where he’d left him, and the prince chuckled fondly. The half-orc was as large as most human warriors, with clearly defined muscles, but the green tone of his skin, the tusks - however small -, the heavy jaw and under-bite, and the tapering of his ears marked him as orcish as clearly as Josslyn’s crown announced his royal blood. The wiry slenderness to Tamas’ body, however, spoke of his elven lineage too. Always an outcast, never belonging, Tamas had nowhere to call home.

Leaning over him, Joss wiped the warm washcloth over the ridges of his abs and over his sharply-defined hips. With a jolt, Tamas woke and sat up and blinked at him for just a heartbeat before he laughed. “You shouldn’t be doing that for me,” he chided groggily, holding out his hand for the cloth.

The prince shook his head, his long hair in disarray.

“Gods, you look so beautiful like that,” Tamas hissed as he stared him up and down.

Josslyn blushed hard and threw the wash cloth at his chest, where it landed with a wet ‘flap’.

Things changed for them after that.

They kept the nature of their relationship a secret, and continued with life in the castle as best they could whilst maintaining their charade. They still held their discussions about orcish culture, though there wasn’t much more for Tamas to teach him by now, though the two had begun studying the language now too. Josslyn had been surprised to learn that it wasn’t the series of simplistic, guttural sounds that he’d always taken it for, and while his grasp of the vocabulary and grammar was solid, Tamas insisted that his accent was appalling.

“I promise not to speak it,” Josslyn murmured one evening as they sat in each other’s arms on the sofa in his private apartment in the castle.

Tamas ran his fingertip over the prince’s lips and whispered, “I wouldn’t want you to sully your beautiful mouth with the language of such brutes,” which earned him a smack on the chest and a playful kiss for his efforts at romance.

As high summer tipped towards autumn again and Tamas remarked that he’d been at the castle for nearly a year, the prince suggested that they go out hunting together. It was customary for there to be a royal hunt as the festival of Mabon approached, and the Royal Guard had just about come to terms with the fact that Tamas wasn’t going to assassinate their beloved prince if left unattended, so the pair of them mounted up amid the baying of hounds and the clatter of hooves on the flagstones of the upper bailey.

The king’s health was not strong enough for him to ride out, but he insisted on being hauled out in his wheeled throne to bless the hunters and wish them success because it was tradition.

The large party of nobles and courtiers and guards all rode out into the woods about a mile from the castle, and the whole thing soon became the usual chaos of bugles and barking, of horses stamping and men shouting.

Tamas guided his large mare expertly up to Josslyn’s side and murmured, “Is this what passes for a hunt amongst humans?”

The prince laughed, knowing it was the large silken tents and the army of servants standing in the field behind waiting to welcome then back to which he was referring. He shrugged. “A royal one, yes.”

“You want to get out of here?”

With a glint in his eye, the prince galloped away with his lover, following old game trails he knew well from adventures as a boy. The two of them soon left the chaos of the hunt well behind, and slowed their mounts to a trot and then an easy walk.

They headed north in companionable silence, enjoying the late summer light beneath the trees, but soon Joss began to notice that Tamas was tense. His horse skittered beneath him, shying at nothing, reacting to the tension and fear in her rider’s posture, snorting and sidestepping.

“Tam?” he asked, his heart rate picking up. “What is it?”

With his heavy jaw set and his eyes fixed on the path ahead, Tamas didn’t reply and Josslyn realised then just how far they had strayed.

“Tamas, we should go back,” he said with more confidence than he felt, reining his horse around. Everything felt wrong. His skin crawled and prickled, and Arrow danced nervously beneath him, the stallion snorting too.

The half-orc held his own mare in place and didn’t follow. He seemed to be warring with himself, his eyes darting back and forth. His chest heaved and his skin had gone deathly pale.

“Tam?” the prince insisted. “What -?”

“Go,” he finally hissed. “Ride. Gallop for home and don’t look back.”

“What?”

“GO!” he roared as the undergrowth erupted behind him and an orcish war horn sounded.

Terror flooded through the prince and he spurred his horse to a flat out gallop as arrows and bolts whistled around them. He heard a scream and a heavy crash from behind him and glanced back to see Tam’s mare go down, throwing him from the saddle.

“No!” he yelled, immediately wheeling Arrow round. The well-trained warhorse obeyed instantly, and as the prince leaned down out of his saddle like a child at a gymkhana, extending his hand to Tam who was sitting up, winded and with an arrow through his shoulder, Joss caught sight of the orcs barrelling towards them through the trees. “Take my hand!” he shouted.

“Go!” Tam gasped.

“I’m not leaving you.”

And with tremendous effort, the half-orc rose and swung himself onto Arrow’s back.

Slowed by the extra weight, the big stallion charged as best he could through the woods. It was a long, painful ride for Tamas, but by the time they erupted out into the meadow, the sounds of pursuit had faded and the orcs appeared to have given up for now. Evening lengthened the shadows as Tamas slumped against Josslyn’s back, breathing hard and holding tight with only one arm.

Once he was sure that they were alone, the prince slowed his sweat-foamed horse to a walk, letting him breathe and stretch out, and he turned his head to look over his shoulder. Slowly, in a voice laced with fear and trepidation, he asked, “Tamas, what was that?”

“An orcish outpost,” he said dully.

A horrible thought plunged through the prince’s mind and he forced himself to ask, “Did… Did you know it was there?”

Silence stretched between them before he felt Tamas nod. “Yes.”

“Why?” he gasped, fighting off tears as the world spun around him. “Was that the plan all along? You were going to betray me all along?”

Tam’s arm tightened briefly around the prince’s slim waist before it slackened a little and he pressed his cheek against the soft leather of his riding jerkin. His breath wheezed and rattled wetly as he answered, “I was the bait. I…” but before he could continue, a retinue of guards cantered over the nearest grassy rise towards them.

“My prince?” the captain called. “What… What happened?”

“Orc ambush,” the prince said, his tone hard as steel, miraculously revealing nothing of his emotions.

The captain snarled and signalled to his men. “Seize him,” he said, pointing at Tam. “Get him away from the prince.”

“No,” Josslyn said in that eerily calm voice. “No. He saved my life. Escort us to the palace. He needs medical treatment.”

Tamas had gone very still behind him, but the prince suspected that it wasn’t because he’d lost consciousness.

The events of the next few hours passed in a daze for the prince. The news of the attack on the crown prince weakened the king’s condition so severely that the physicians feared he was not long for this world, and Josslyn spent the next two hours at his father’s side, though he didn’t stir once. Still too numb and empty from the shock of Tamas’ actions to feel anything much for his father, he wandered the castle until he found himself in the infirmary.

Tamas was sleeping in a bed at the far end, his shoulder bandaged, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. No one was about, but there had been guards posted at the doors he noted.

Grabbing a chair and silently setting it down beside the bed, the prince stared at the person he’d thought was his friend. His lover. After all they’d shared, Tamas had just been… bait? He couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it.

After perhaps five minutes, Tamas’ blue eyes fluttered open and he stared at Josslyn.

“Why?” The whispered question fell from the prince’s lips before he could stop himself. “Why didn’t you just stab me in my sleep while we lay together all those nights?” His fury mounted inside him and it was a miracle he kept it in check. “If you wanted me dead, why -” he faltered, choking up.

“I don’t,” Tam hissed back. “I mean… I did… That was why I was sent here, but I-”

“They sent you? So everything you told me about yourself was a lie? You manipulated me… Gods,” he said, lurching to his feet and turning away, fists clenched. “I was so stupid.”

The sheets rustled and Tamas sat up awkwardly, resting his back against the wooden headboard behind him as a wave of dizziness swept through him. He breathed hoarsely for a moment, the pain in his shoulder evident. “I was sent here,” he confirmed. “I was supposed to gather information on the castle and household, and then return. But when you took an interest in me… I couldn’t let that opportunity pass. I…” he paused, trying to catch his breath before going on. Josslyn stood there and glared at him. “I sent word of what had changed, and they told me to earn your trust and bring you to that outpost whenever I could.”

The prince’s vision swam and he bit the inside of his cheeks hard enough to taste the ferrous tang of blood. “Why didn't you go through with it then?” he finally whispered.

“Because… I…” Tamas’ blue eyes dropped to the sheets and he stared blankly at them. “Because I never imagined I’d fall in love with you.”

“No,” he snarled. “You don’t get to say something like that after what you did.”

“I know,” he said evenly. “But you asked me why I didn’t let them do it. I never should have led you away from the hunt, but once I had, I felt like there was no going back. My people were counting on me, but then I saw how afraid you were when… how… how what I had done would hurt you more than being taken by them, and…”

“‘Taken’…”

“They weren’t going to kill you,” Tamas said quietly. “They were going to hold you to ransom.”

“Then why the arrows?” he retorted bitterly as he recalled flashes of that dreadful flight through the trees. His eyes landed on the bandages. “They nearly killed you.”

“You didn’t hear what they were shouting after me. They’d kill me now, for sure. If you let me go, they’ll…”

“It’s no more than you deserve,” he growled, but somehow the words didn’t feel right, even as he spoke them aloud.

Tamas looked up at the prince with his eyes glistening. “May I ask you something?”

The prince made a non-committal shrug.

“Why did you your guards that I saved your life? Why am I not hanging from a gallows right now?”

“Because I loved you,” he said. “And because you did save my life. Admittedly, that was immediately after trying to get me killed…”

“‘Loved’?” Of course he’d fixated upon that word. That tense.

Josslyn’s shoulders dropped and he closed his eyes, head bowing. “Love,” he amended. “You hurt me, but… I think… as insane as it sounds, I think I understand why you did it.”

“What?”

“You remember when I told you that I’m a prince but I serve my people?”

Tamas nodded, looking stunned.

“You came here to do for your people what I would do for mine. It’s not my fault that we’re on opposite sides of a war, Tamas.”

Tamas let out the breath he’d been holding and said in a shaky voice, “Months ago, you said that you wanted to bring an end to this war, and you said that you wished you could talk with my people. You wished you could find a way to end it peacefully…”

“I still do,” he said, his hand gripping the back of the chair to keep himself upright. It was all too much to take in in one go.

Tam’s mind was clearly working well enough though. “Perhaps we can do it together?”

“How? The orcs will kill you on sight for betraying them like that.”

“I’ll find a way to explain it,” he said hopelessly.

“Alright, so I herald you as my saviour, the ‘orc with a conscience’… and then what? You think my father will merrily trot over there and ask to begin a peace conference? Don’t be absurd…”

Tamas laughed softly but cut off with a wince. “We would have to wait until you became king,” he said very quietly. “It would take time, but…” he looked up at him. “I hated humans before I met you. You made me fall in love with you despite everything I tried to tell myself. If anyone can win them round, it’s you.”

“You love me despite your better judgement? Is that it?” Josslyn laughed, feeling his chest lighten somehow. He sank down onto the bed beside Tamas and took up his hand, frowning at the way it trembled.

“I love you despite my former judgement,” he corrected. His eyelids fluttered with exhaustion. He was clearly fighting to stay awake. “There’s a difference. I know I’ve got a lot of work to do to rebuild your trust in me. I don’t know if you’ll ever trust me again, but… still I think we can make this work between our people…”

Josslyn smiled. “I saw the look on your face back there in the trees too,” he said. “You didn’t want to do it. I know regret when I see it, and the expression of fear I saw in you when they came for me was genuine. I understand.”

Tears tracked silently down Tamas’ face from his dark blue eyes.

“Rest,” Josslyn murmured, helping him to lie back down again and sweeping his hair back out of his eyes once he was supine again. “We’ll talk more when you’ve healed.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

The prince smiled softly and leaned down, pressing a kiss into his slackening lips. “I know. Now, get some sleep.”

“Yes, Highness,” he slurred with a smile and slipped into unconsciousness a moment later.

As Josslyn walked away from the infirmary he felt wrung out and weak-kneed, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel now. There was the potential to end the conflict that had ravaged his land for the best part of six years, and he was going to take it.

As if to confirm his new resolve, a low, mournful bell began to toll throughout the castle and his footsteps faltered, knowing it could only mean one thing.

In the morning, there would be a new king.

—

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#orctober #orc #male orc #half orc #mlm #exophilia #mlm exophilia #monster boyfriend #fantasy #fantasy setting #really hope you like this one #i need to get a proper banner/break thing rather than just '---'

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metzili · 4 years

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skincare reviews because my workplace closed and my classes went online

you already know. it’s been two days and i’ve been reduced to writing about skincare when this is a fan blog. take it or leave it this is the accumulation of skincare products (mainly korean products) i’ve tried out for about three years. I don’t do the 10-step routine, because I like having one or two products with active ingredients that work their magic so I can tell what product works or not. I feel like if I did multiple steps, all the products would cancel each other out and I’d never be able to pinpoint what worked. My skin is normal/dry, with some patches of eczema during the colder months. I had a lot of acne my first two years of high school (2015-2017), so I mainly focus on fighting that discoloration and also hydration. This is in no particular order, by the way.

Acwell’s Licorice pH Balancing Cleansing Toner ($18) Really love this! I’ve repurchased maybe three times already? Only toner I’ve used that actually helps to lighten discoloration. 10/10

Banila Co’s Clean It Zero Cleansing Balm, Original ($19) Very lovely cleansing balm; does it’s job at removing makeup and leaves skin hydrated after rinsing. Haven’t tried any other cleansing balms, so I can’t really compare. I think I do remember it leaving the tiniest bit of residue, but I always follow up with a water-based cleanser, so it’s not a big deal for me. 9/10

Some by Mi’s AHA-BHA-PHA 30Days Miracle Toner ($16) Pretty nice. Did it’s job, but I don’t see the whole fuss about it. With the amount of AHA and BHAs inside, as well as the tea tree water and papaya extracts, it almost crosses into the realm of being a chemical exfoliant. Probably better for those leaning oily. Still good, especially for the price. 8/10

Versed’s the Shortcut Overnight Facial Peel ($20) Even though this is a Target brand, it’s priced a little higher than the previous items, which I find a little funny. But I don’t mind it at all! A very lovely facial peel, leaves my skin nice and soft in the morning. There’s a mix of lactic and glycolic acid that act as the exfoliants. I prefer chemical exfoliants to physical ones because my skin gets sensitive when it’s really dry. Good to try out! 9/10

COSRX’s Advanced Snail 96 Mucin Power Essence ($21) I. Love. This. Product. I know it’s a little offputting, for the product to be a whopping 96% snail mucin, but its specially formulated for the use on skin. It’s intensely hydrating, but it sinks into the skin super quickly. (I used this in my morning routine before makeup) Really helps with discoloration, too! And it lasts SO LONG. I think I had the same bottle for six months, and I was using this shit everyday. I think it’s really worth the try. 10/10

Enature’s Birch Juice Hydro Essence Skin ($39) This is up there in price, but I managed to get this on sale for $16, so I’ve decided to try it out. I’ve only used it once, but found that I really liked it. Very hydrating, sinks into skin very quickly, and a nice, light scent! I think I’m going to really like this one. The problem is the future divot in my wallet when I buy this off sale....9/10

Klairs’s Freshly Juiced Vitamin C Drop ($23) After hearing everyone’s praises on this, I caved. It’s very nice; almost the consistency of a dry oil? Sinks in quickly. I’ve used this on and off since November (so my skin couldn’t get too used to it) and my discoloration has brightened considerably. Enough that I’ve been going to class and work without makeup pretty often in the past two months. It takes some time, but the results pay off. 9/10

Fourth Ray Beauty’s Remedy 10% Niacinamide Serum ($16) I’ve been buying from Colourpop for over four years now, so I felt the need to try out their new skincare brand. Niacinamide is a miracle ingredient, working to clear acne, lighten discoloration and so much more. I’ve been using this as my only serum in the mornings since it’s such a stable ingredient and not sensitive to sunlight. My skin definitely looks brighter, but this formula...it leaves my skin feeling sort of tight and tacky. I’m not in love with it, but I’ll finish it out. 6/10 Fourth Ray Beauty’s AM To The PM Gel Cleanser ($12) I don’t like this cleanser. It does its job, yes, but my face feels really dry after rinsing. I thought it was just my initial reaction to it, but halfway down the bottle my skin still reacts the same. Only keeping it to use as my backup cleanser if the one I’m currently using runs out. 3/10

Klaris’s Rich Moist Soothing Cream ($23) !!!!!!!! I love this! A thicker moisturizer perfect for the colder months. Doesn’t leave my face feeling oddly tight afterwards like some moisturizers do. Not tight as in its not moisturizing, but almost like there’s a super thin cast? Anyway, it doesn’t have that. I’ve repurchased twice already. 10/10

Kiehls’s Ultra Facial Cream ($32) I also really love this moisturizer. It’s what I was using before I found the Klairs one. A little more lightweight that Klairs, but still very moisturizing. More suited for the warmer months. Pretty sure I bought this at least three times. No weird tight cast after applying! 10/10

Simple Kind to Skin’s Replenishing Rich Moisturizer ($9) I....don’t like this. Moisturizing enough, but it leaves that tight, cast-like feeling after applying. Was using it as a backup moisturizer when I finished the Kiehls one and hadn’t bought the Klairs yet. 4/10

CeraVe’s Moisturizing Cream ($15) Yes, the cream that comes in the tub, not the lotion that comes in the bottle. I recently ran out of the Klairs and had to find something quick. Surprisingly enough, this feels almost exactly like the Klairs, if just a little thicker. It leaves the tiniest bit of a cast, but that feeling’s gone in less than an hour, which can’t be said for the previous moisturizers. The thing is, when I apply this at night and wake up the next day....my skin feels so supple. There’s no other word for it. I really love this. And for 16oz of product versus the Klairs’s 2oz, I think I’ve found a new favorite. 10/10

Garnier’s SkinActive Micellar Cleansing Water All-In-1 ($7) Does it’s job. 13.5 oz for the price is a pretty good steal. Removes my waterproof mascara really well. Nothing too special about it. 8/10

NeoGen’s Real Fresh Foam, Cranberry ($19) I’ve only just bought this and have only used it once, so take with a grain of salt. My skin kind of badly reacted to it? The symptoms went away after 15 minutes or so, but I’m not casting it aside just yet. I’ve never used a foam cleanser before, so my skin could have reacted from not being used to such a medium. It still cleansed my skin well.The foam itself was very cloudy and soft and the fragrance was very light. It doesn’t scream cranberry, which is what I was worried about. EDIT: After washing a second time the next day, there was no stinging whatsoever. The reaction was probably my skin saying yo what the fuck is this texture? But the pH is 7, neutral, so its a little more alkaline than the skin’s natural pH, meaning there was a bit of tightness after patting my face dry. Would recommend for normal/oily skin. 7/10

Drunk Elephant’s C-Firma Day Serum ($80) This is....the most expensive thing I’ve ever bought for my skin. I was pretty desperate to get rid of my discoloration about a year ago since it was only getting worse and I was hearing so much praise about this, so I caved. I still only used this at night, since it was still a vitamin C product, despite it saying it was safe to use in the daytime. I feel like it did help a lot with my skin; it delivered results a little quicker than the Klairs serum. Maybe after two months I saw the changes? But what put me off so much is the scent. It smelled so....herbal. And not in the good way. And it was super strong. And after applying, it felt like a heavy oil that wouldn’t sink in. It took forever. Even if it delivered results relatively quickly, I won’t be buying again just because of how strong that scent was. 5/10

Neutrogena’s Hydro Boost Water Gel Lotion SPF 50 ($13) I’ve been using a BB cream with SPF 30 for years, so I never thought to have an additional SPF product. After hearing that SPF 30 is the minimal protection you should have, I thought to look for something better so I’d be more protected, because I wasn’t reapplying at all. (I wasn’t about to redo my makeup every two hours) This lotion doesn’t leave a white cast which, with my tan skin, was my main priority. It takes a while to sink in, which isn’t that great, since I apply my makeup after putting this on, so I have to wait a little longer. It smells...exactly what you think sunscreen smells. Pretty strongly, too. I’m currently looking for a better SPF 50 that isn’t like $50, but I’ll be using this in the meantime since it doesn’t make me look like a ghost. 7/10 BONUS! Lush Cosmetics Fresh Face Mask of Magnaminty ($15) This is the only wash-off mask I actually like. (I usually stick to sheet masks) I swear it cleared all those bumps I used to have on my forehead. Like, actually. I love using this on the week I have my period, which is the only time I really get acne now. Really lovely results. 10/10 belif’s The True Tincture Chamomile Cleansing Stick ($30) This is here because I just found out it’s discontinued.....a real shame. This also really helped those bumps on my forehead. I swear that this, and the mask, got rid of them in less than a month. I repurchased twice before trying out other things and forgetting about it. I really wish this wasn’t discontinued! And that’s it! All that I remember ever trying. Throw down a comment or DM me if you want a more detailed description for any product or if you actually want me to keep doing this for any future products.

#skincare #k beauty #korean skincare #skincare routine #daily routine #the things i do while quarantined lol

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shauna-m · 4 years

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DIARY 04/18/2004 – 18 yrs old

This is my first attempt at translating my old diaries into something readable. So please bear that in mind. There will be more and better ones but I wanted to start here.... July 18th 2004 – 18 yrs old (Some details altered to protect the weak. I also expanded & clarified in some places to make it make sense.) (I also edited some of the grammar and structure to make it easier for you all!) -------------------------------------------------------------- Oh! Do I have a secret to tell! Last night I guess you could say I lost my virginity to Tony Albert! I think... So Vicky (My best friend at the time) and I went to the fun in the sun water slides to hang out so Vikki could talk to a guy. Vicky’s sister drove us and dropped us off. Vicky’s guy said he was throwing a party at the barn on his dad’s farm and Vicky told him we would be there. I was kind of mad about that. We hung around the water park for a few hours and Vicky’s guy drove us home after his shift. We dug through Vicky’s closet looking for something to wear that didn’t look like it came from Walmart clearance. We are classy girls after all, but budget classy kind of girls. We found the best outfits we could find. Vicky’s sister let us wear her real gold hoop earrings! She’s the best sister I think! I wore a dark blue sun dress and Vicky wore a black miniskirt and a tanktop. She did not put on deodorant and smelled a little funky by the time we got to the party.When we arrived, the party was already going on. Beer kegs and tables of chips and stuff. Vicky’s guy greeted us and handed us beers from the keg. Its like having a real bar outside! Cool! I was introduced to Tony. I knew Tony from school but we never talked. I have never been the person many people stop and talk to. I like it that way. Tony moved around talking to loads of people but would always walk by me and wink, or point finger guns at me, or make a joke and I would laugh. I don’t think he was funny really but I know you are supposed to laugh at jokes. I decided at that moment that he was going to be my first sex! The party was super lame. Some guys brought guitars and played a little music and I was not impressed. Was I supposed to be? I don’t know, gatherings freak me the fuck out. Vicky abandoned me a long time ago and I was just sitting there like a freak, but at least no one but Tony bothered me. Tony is a popular guy in school and he is in sports. I watched a football game last year with him in it. They said he was really fast! He finally came to talk to me after a while. He asked me if I wanted to see something cool. I said I did. He grabbed my hand and helped me up and I followed him. We walked around the barn and there were other little buildings, most of them were empty. We headed toward one of the house looking ones, and I was following him. I thought how easy it would be to hide bodies out here. We entered in one of these small buildings and it looked like it hasn’t been used in years. It still smelled bad though.There was some light coming in from a light on the side of the barn. He pointed down at the ground and there was an animal skeleton. He said it was a fox. It was like a painting really all the bones still there and tufts of fur in small piles around it. He said I was a fox. I thought he meant I was a dead fox and I asked him why. He said I was sexy. I had never been called sexy before. I think he was drunk, and that has to be why. He told me he hasn’t been kissed in a while and if I wanted to kiss him I could. I nodded and walked up to him. He was much taller than I was and leaned down and we kissed quickly. It probably wasn’t a good kiss for him but I felt it all over. I held back the urge to hurt him and run away. Where would this go? I asked if we could kiss again and he agreed. We kissed longer and used tongue. I was breathing heavy and it felt very weird. Like fear but I liked it. I was breathing heavy and he asked me if I was ok. He kissed me again and put his hand on my boob. Then he asked if he could touch my boob. I nodded and he squeezed it pretty hard. I couldn’t stop kissing him. I was tingling all over and after a bit my boob was numb. He moved his hand to my crotch. I stopped kissing him and I stood there and didn’t move. I had thoughts racing in my head. Memories and then now reality. I put my hand over his and pushed it further over my vaj so I could feel it. He was rubbing too high up, and then I jumped at his face kissing him again. I think I may have moaned. Embarrassing! It felt really good and so I asked him if wants to have sex and he plopped me on the ground right next to a dead fox. I never saw his peen. It was dark and he was shaking and hurrying trying to get his pants down. I just puled up my dress and I was so wet I could feel something trickling down my butthole. I could hear some people walking by but they didn’t come in. He got down between my legs and I felt him put it in me. It didn’t hurt really, but then again I didn’t think it would anymore. It felt like a warm hug inside me. Pressure for a minute and then he started pushing and pulling. After a few minutes it was starting to feel really good. He pulled out of me and grunted a few times. I asked if he was ok. He said he was and he zipped up his pants really fast and helped me stand up. I don’t think sex is supposed to be that quick. He asked me if he could get me a beer and I asked for a soda instead. Beer tastes like bad bread! Eesh! I don’t know why he quit in the middle of having sex with me, maybe I didn’t feel good to him. I doubt he will talk to me at school next year but I don’t really care. I wanted to try something new and I did. I doubt I will do that again for a while because I don’t think sex is like the movies. I don’t think anything is like the movies. I did manage to get the fox skull though. I think I will make something out of it. Tony you are my lucky first! Next time don’t be afraid to finish. 04/18/2004 -------------------------------------------------------- NOTES: So yeah.. I had to do some major surgery on this entry because I kept a lot of the details out of the original entries that I had written. I also used code words and things like that, so if anyone ever read it they may get the gist but not the details. I did leave real names in my diary which was not smart if I coded the rest right? I kept 99% of the entry intact and in a few places added details that I had left out. Anyhow, Tony and Vicky were real names but I changed Tony’s last name for this, and we haven’t talked since that night really. Knowing what I know now about the world I know that he didn’t just stop in the middle. Well.. Maybe the middle for me but it was the end for him was about a whopping 2 or 3 minutes if that.. How naïve I was. I still don’t think sex is like the movies. I think it can be much better than movies if you allow yourself to go there. This is not the best entry by far but I wanted to basically start this from the beginning.. I may rewrite this someday but I am new to all this...

#Sex Diary #naughty #lost virginity #How it all started?

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the-desolated-quill · 4 years

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Watchmen - Movie blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. if you haven’t seen this movie yet, you may want to before reading this review)

A movie adaptation of Watchmen had been in development in some form or another since the graphic novel was first published back in 1987. Over the course of its two decade development cycle, being passed from filmmaker to filmmaker who each had their own vision of what a Watchmen movie should be, fans objected to the idea of a movie adaptation, describing Watchmen as ‘unfilmmable.’ Alan Moore himself condemned the effort to adapt his work, saying that Watchmen does things that can only be done in a comic book. But where there’s a will, there’s a way, and in 2009, Watchmen finally came to the big screen, directed by Zack Snyder.

I confess it took me a lot longer to write this review than I intended and that’s largely because I wasn’t sure how best to approach it. Snyder clearly has a lot of love and respect for the source material and tried his best to honour it as best he could. Snyder himself even said that he considers the film to be an advert for the book, hoping to get newcomers interested in the material. So how should I be looking at this film? As an adaptation or as an artistic tribute? More to the point, which of the three versions of the film should I be reviewing? The original theatrical cut, the director’s cut or the ultimate cut? Which best reflects Snyder’s artistic vision?

After much pondering, I decided to go with the director’s cut. The theatrical release was clearly done to make studio execs happy by keeping the runtime under three hours, but it comes at the cost of major plot points and character moments being chucked away. The ultimate cut however comes in at a whopping four hours and is arguably the most accurate to the source material as it also contains the animated Tales Of The Black Freighter scenes. However these scenes break the narrative flow of the film and were clearly not intended to be part of the final product, being inserted only to appease the fans. The director’s cut feels most like Snyder’s vision, clocking in at three and half hours and following the graphic novel fairly closely whilst leaving room for artistic licence.

Now as some of you may know, while I’m not exactly what you would call a fan of Zack Snyder’s work, I do have something of a begrudging respect for him due to his willingness to take creative risks and attempt to tell more complex, thought provoking narratives that don’t necessarily adhere to the blockbuster formula. Films like Watchmen and Batman Vs Superman prove to me that the man clearly has a lot of good ideas and a drive to really make an audience think about what they’re watching and question certain things about the characters. The problem is that he never seems to know how best to convey those ideas on screen. In my review of Batman Vs Superman, I likened him to a fire hose. Extremely powerful, but unless you’ve got someone holding onto the thing with both hands and pointing it in the right direction, it’s just going to go all over the place. I admire Snyder’s dedication and thought process, but I think the fact that his most successful film, Man Of Steel, also happens to be the one he had the least creative influence on speaks volumes. When he’s got someone to work with and bounce ideas off of, he can be a creative force to be reckoned with. Left to his own devices however, and his films tend to go off the rails very quickly.

Watchmen is very much Snyder’s passion project. You can tell a lot of care and effort went into this. The accuracy of the costumes, staging and set designs speak for themselves. However there is an underlying problem with Snyder trying to painstakingly recreate the graphic novel on film. While I don’t agree with the purists who say that Watchmen is ‘unfilmmable’, I do agree with Alan Moore’s statement that there are certain aspects of the graphic novel that can only work in a graphic novel. A key example of this is its structure. Watchmen has the luxury of telling its non-linear narrative over twelve issues in creative and unorthodox ways. A structure that’s incredibly hard to translate into any other medium. A twelve episode TV mini-series might come close, but a movie, even a three hour movie, is going to struggle due to the sheer density of the material and the unconventional structure. Whereas the structure of the graphic novel allowed Alan Moore to dedicate whole chapters to the origin stories of Doctor Manhattan and Rorschach and filling in the gaps of this alternate history, the structure of a movie doesn’t really allow for that. And yet Snyder tries really hard to follow the structure of the book even though it simply doesn’t work on film, which results in the movie coming to a screeching halt as the numerous flashbacks and origin stories disrupt the flow of the narrative, causing it to stop and start constantly at random intervals, like someone kangarooing in a rundown car.

Just as Watchmen the graphic novel played around with the common tropes and framing devices of comics, Watchmen the movie needed to play around with the common tropes and framing devices of comic book movies. To Snyder’s credit, there are moments where he does do that. The most notable being the first five minutes where we see the entire history of the world of Watchmen during the opening credits while ‘The Times They Are A-Changing’ is played in the background. This is legitimately good. It depicts the rise and fall of the superhero in a way only a movie can. I wish Snyder did more stuff like this rather than restricting himself to just recreating panels from the graphic novel.

Which is not to say I think the film is bad. On the contrary, I think it’s pretty damn good. There’s a lot of things to like about this movie. The biggest, shiniest gold star has to go to Jackie Earle Haley as Rorschach. While the movie itself was divisive at the time, Haley’s portrayal of Rorschach was universally praised as he did an excellent job bringing this extreme right wing bigot to life. He has become to Rorschach what Ryan Reynolds is to Deadpool or what Mark Hamill is to the Joker. He is the character (rather tragically. LOL). To the point where it’s actually scary how similar Haley looks to Walter Kovacs from the graphic novel. The resemblance is uncanny.

Another standout performance is Jeffery Dean Morgan as the Comedian. Just as depraved and unsavoury as the comic version, but Morgan is also able to inject some real charm and pathos into the character. You believe that Sally Jupiter would have consensual sex with him despite everything he did to her before. But his best scene I think was his scene with Moloch (played by Matt Frewer) where the Comedian expresses regret for all the terrible things he did. It’s a genuinely emotional and impactful scene and Morgan manages to wring some sympathy out of the audience even though the character doesn’t really deserve it. But that’s what makes Rorschach and the Comedian such great characters. Yes they’re both depraved individuals, but they’re also fully realised and three dimensional. They feel like real people, which is what makes their actions and morals all the more shocking.

Then there’s Doctor Manhattan, who in my opinion stands as a unique technical achievement in film. The number of departments that had to work together to bring him to life is staggering. Visual effects, a body double, lighting, sound, it’s a truly impressive collaborative effort, all tied together by Billy Crudup’s exceptional performance. He arguably had the hardest job out of the whole cast. How do you portray an all powerful, emotionless, quantum entity without him coming across as a robot? Crudup manages this by portraying Manhattan as being less emotionless and more emotionally numb, which makes his rare displays of emotion, such as his shock and anger during the TV interview, stand out all the more. It’s a great depiction that I don’t think is given the credit it so richly deserves.

Which leads into something else about the movie, which will no doubt be extremely controversial, but I’m going to say it anyway. I much prefer the ending in the film to the ending in the book.

Hear me out.

In my review of the final issue of Watchmen, I said I didn’t like the squid because of its utter randomness. The plot of the movie however works so much better both from a narrative and thematic perspective. Ozymandias framing Doctor Manhattan makes a hell of a lot more sense than the squid. For one thing, it doesn’t dump a massive amount of new info on us all at once. It’s merely an extension of previously known facts. We know Ozymandias framed Manhattan for giving people cancer to get him off world. It’s not much of a stretch to imagine the world could also buy that Manhattan would retaliate after being ostracised. We also see Adrian and Manhattan working together to create perpetual energy generators, which turn out to be bombs. It marries up perfectly with the history of Watchmen as well as providing an explanation for why there’s an intrinsic field generator in Adrian’s Antarctic base. It also provides a better explanation for why Manhattan leaves Earth at the end despite gaining a newfound respect for humanity. But what I love most of all is how it links to Watchmen’s central themes.

Thanks to the existence of Doctor Manhattan, America has become the most powerful nation in the world to the point where its disrupted the global balance of power. This has led to the escalation of the Cold War with Russia as well as other countries like Vietnam being at the mercy of the United States. It also allowed Nixon to stay in office long after his two terms had expired. The reason the squid from the book is so unsatisfying as a conclusion is because you don’t buy that anyone would be willing to help America after the New York attack. In fact it would be more likely that Russia and other countries might take advantage of America’s vulnerability. Manhattan’s global attack however not only gives the whole world motivation to work together, it also puts America in a position where they have no choice but to ask for help because it was they that effectively created this mess in the first place. So seeing President Nixon pleading for a global alliance feels incredibly satisfying because we’re seeing a corrupt individual hoist by his own petard and trying to save his own skin, even if it comes at the cost of his power. America is now like a wounded animal, and while world peace is ultimately achieved, the US is now a shadow of its former self. It fits in so perfectly with the overall story of Watchmen, frankly I’m amazed Alan Moore didn’t come up with this himself.

It’s not perfect however. Since the whole genetic engineering stuff no longer exists, it makes the existence of Adrian’s pet lynx Bubastis rather perplexing. Also the whole tachyons screwing with Doctor Manhattan’s omniscience thing still doesn’t make a pixel of sense. But the biggest flaw is in Adrian Veidt’s characterisation. For one thing, Matthew Goode’s performance isn’t remotely subtle. He practically screams ‘bad guy’ the moment he appears on screen. He has none of the charm or charisma that the source material’s Ozymandias had. But it’s worse than that because Snyder seems to be going out of his way to uncomplicate and de-politicise the story and characters. There’s no mention of Adrian’s liberalism or his disdain for Nixon and right wing politics. The film never explores his obsession with displaying his own power and superiority over right wing superheroes like Rorschach and the Comedian. He’s just the generic bad guy. And I do mean bad guy. Whereas the graphic novel left everything up to the reader to decide who was morally in the right, the film takes a very firm stance on who the audience should be siding with. Don’t believe me? Just look at how Rorschach’s death is presented to us.

It’s very clear while watching the film that Zack Snyder is a big Rorschach fan. He gets the most screen time and there’s a lot of effort dedicated to his portrayal and depiction. And that’s fine. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with that. As I’ve mentioned before in previous blogs, Rorschach is my favourite character too. However it’s important not to lose sight of who the character is and what he’s supposed to represent, otherwise you run the risk of romanticising him, which is exactly what the film ends up doing. Rorschach’s death in the graphic novel wasn’t some heroic sacrifice. It was a realisation that he has no place in the world that Ozymandias has created, as well as revealing the hypocrisy of the character. In the extra material provided in The Abyss Gazes Also, we learn that, as a child, Walter supported President Truman’s use of the atomic bomb in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and yet, in his adult life, he opposes Adrian’s plan. Why? What’s the difference? Well the people who died in Hiroshima and Nagasaki weren’t American. They were Japanese. The enemy. In Rorschach’s mind, they deserved to die, whereas the people in New York didn’t. It signifies the flawed nature of Rorschach’s black and white view of the world as well as displaying the racist double standards of the character. Without the context of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Rorschach’s death becomes skewed. This is what ends up happening in the movie. Rorschach removes his mask and makes a bold declaration to Doctor Manhattan, the music swells as he is disintegrated, defiant to the last, and his best friend Nite Owl screams in anguish and despair.

In fact the film takes it one step further by having Nite Owl punch Adrian repeatedly in the face and accuse him of deforming humanity, which completely contradicts the point of Dan Dreiberg as a character. He’s no longer the pathetic centrist who requires a superhero identity to feel any sort of power or validation. He’s now the everyman representing the views of the audience, which just feels utterly wrong.

This links in with arguably the film’s biggest problem of all. The way it portrays superheroes in general. The use of slow motion, cinematography and fight choreography frames the superheroes and vigilantes of Watchmen as being powerful, impressive individuals, when really the exact opposite should be conveyed. The costumes give the characters a feeling of power, but that power is an illusion. Nite Owl is really an impotent failure. Rorschach is an angry bigot lashing out at the world. The Comedian is a depraved old man who has let his morals fall by the way side so he can indulge in his own perverse fantasies. They’re not people to be idealised. They’re to be at pitied at best and reviled at worst. So seeing them jump through windows and beating up several thugs single handed through various forms of martial arts ultimately confuses the message, as does the use of gratuitous gore and violence. Are we supposed to be shocked by these individuals or in awe?

Costumes too have a similar problem. Nite Owl and Ozymandias’ costumes have been updated so they look more imposing, which kind of defeats the purpose of them. The point is they look silly to us, the outside observers, but they make the characters feel powerful. That juxtaposition is lost in the film. And then there’s the Silk Spectre. In the graphic novel, both Sally and Laurie represent the changing attitudes of women in comics and in society. Both Silk Spectres are sexually objectified, but whereas Sally accepts it as part of the reality of being a woman, Laurie resists it, seeing it as demeaning. The only reason she wore her revealing costume in A Brother To Dragons was because she knew that Dan found it sexually attractive and she wanted to indulge his power fantasy. None of this is touched upon in the film, other than one passing mention of the Silk Spectre porn magazine near the beginning of the film. There’s not even any mention of how impractical her costume is, like the graphic novel does. Yes the film changes her look drastically, but it’s still just as impractical and could have been used to make a point on how women are perceived in comic book films, but it never seems to hinder her in anyway. It’s never even brought up, which is ridiculous. Zack Snyder’s reinterpretation of Silk Spectre is clearly meant to inject some form of girl power into the proceedings, as she’s presented as being just as impressive and kick-ass as the others, when the whole point of her character was to expose the misogyny of the comics industry at the time and how they cater to the male gaze. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying the graphic novel did it perfectly, but it did it a hell of a lot better than this.

Die hard fans have described the film over the years as shallow and ‘style over substance.’ I don’t think that’s entirely fair. It’s clear that Zack Snyder has a huge respect for the graphic novel and wanted to do it justice. Overall the film has a lot of good ideas and is generally well made. However, as much as Snyder seems to love Watchmen, it does seem like he only has a surface level understanding of it, hence why the attention and effort seems to be going into the visuals and the faithfulness to Alan Moore’s attention to detail rather than the Watchmen’s story and themes. While the film at times makes some good points about power, corruption and morality, it doesn’t go nearly as far as the source material does and seems to shy away from really getting into the meat of any particular topic. Part of that I suspect is to do with marketability, not wanting to alienate casual viewers, but I think a lot of it is to do with it simply being in the wrong medium. I personally don’t think you can really do a story as complex and intricate as Watchmen’s justice in a Hollywood film. In my opinion, this really should have been a TV mini-series or something.

So on the whole, while I appreciate Snyder’s attempt at bringing the story of Watchmen to life and can see that he has the best intentions in mind, I don’t think this film holds a candle to the original source material.

#watchmen #dc #warner bros #zack snyder #review #spoilers

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 5 years

Text

Jigsaw // Blue: Part Two

Jabberwocky

A/N: Moving right along with Blue- Billy learned that not all of his memories can be trusted, but one powerful one strikes through. But even as he finds answers, two questions still remain: where are you, and how did this happen?

Warning: Psychological trauma, brief mention of sexual abuse, language, another angst fest.

Word Count: 4,038

Prompt from: @its-my-little-dumpster-fire

Billy’s life had always been ruled by routine. In the home, in the military, in the workforce; there was always somewhere to be or something to do and an allotted amount of time in which to do it. It was no different in the hospital. He’d wake from dreams, covered in sweat and breathing heavily, and minutes later his door would open. If it was a therapy day, Dr. Dumont would come in, her shiny dark hair twisted into a tight bun, her face twisted up by her sugar-sweet smile. She’d undo his cuffs and they’d clang against the bedrails. He’d rub at his wrists and either sit up in the bed or drag himself to the chairs by the window- wherever Dumont decided to hold the session that day. She’d ask her questions and push his buttons, then she and her smile and her hastily scribbled notes would leave the room. Like clockwork, a nurse would come in with medications rattling in a paper cup held outstretched in a shaking hand. The meathead orderly assigned to protect the medical staff from Billy did little to assuage their fears, even though he’d never done anything threatening; it seemed that his presence alone was enough to incite an involuntary reaction.

After the medication was dispensed, the frazzled nurse would leave, practically tripping over themselves to get back to the safety of the hallway, but the orderly would stay, standing guard by the door while Billy was allowed an hour or two of “physical activity”. He’d been cleared recently to do light body weight exercises; pushups, sit ups, dips. That time slot was filled with equal parts frustration and determination as he worked daily to build back the muscle that was lost to months of atrophy. He’d roll the sleeves of his hospital issued hoodie up his scrawny forearms, and drop to the floor to exert himself to the point of fatigue. His current counts were at 24 pushups, 52 sit ups, and a whopping 13 dips- a far cry from his former physique, and while it was better than the 0, 0 and 0 that he’d been capable of when he started, the bottom line was that over the last decade or two, Billy Russo had grown accustomed to power. Feeling this weak was just as detrimental to his mental state as everything else that was working against him, and improving his stamina and rebuilding that muscle was the one thing that Dr. Dumont had suggested that he wholeheartedly agreed with.

The rest of the day was just as regimented: shower, back in the cuffs, meals, back in the cuffs, out of the bed to take a goddamn piss, back in the cuffs until morning. Lather, rinse repeat. There wasn’t a lot of wiggle room in the routine, but there was a lot of time to think. Normally he’d dissect every detail of his dreams, searching for something he recognized, something that would bring the shadows to light. Usually he’d rack his brain, pick through the shards and try to find anything that could solve the riddle of the skull. But that had taken a backseat ever since you started stumbling through his nightly visions; ever since he realized that he couldn’t trust his own memories, even the ones he felt sure of. You threw a wrench right into that routine.

It took him a full week to finally come to terms with the fact that he hadn’t taken you to the Marine Ball; to believe Dr. Dumont’s insistence that he hadn’t come back from deployment until well after the ball had come and gone. If it hadn’t been for the flash of a memory that caused him to fall out of a pushup- an incident that happened that had actually delayed his unit on that deployment rather than getting them home ahead of schedule- he’d probably still swear to himself that he could remember the way his white gloves slid over your blue dress, or the way your lips tasted like your tears. But when he relayed that vision in a session, Krista had confirmed it, showing him military records that backed it up. “So you see, Billy?” She tilted her head, that sinuous smile twisting her features, “You see? The ball...it was a dream.”

“Yeah.” He’d answered monotonously. “Yeah, doc I see.”

She nodded with what he assumed she meant to be encouragement, but just came off as condescension. “Good. I know it’s hard, but sifting through and recognizing reality is what’s going to bring all your real memories back.”

Billy’s left leg bounced erratically as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “She is a real memory,” he snarled, ignoring an itch on the bridge of his nose. “She’s real she’s...she’s somewhere and…” his nostrils flared and the sound of his breathing was amplified by the mask. He pounded his fist against his knee to stop the shaking and to prove his point. “Look I know I didn’t take her dancin’, but don’t you sit there and, and, and tell me that she’s some fuckin’...some figment of my fucked imagination, okay doc? ‘Cause…’cause I know…” his fist pounded the center of his chest. “I feel it...I know….”

“Billy,” she held one up palm facing him. “Billy, please stop that…” she tilted her head and pumped her hand in a cautious gesture, the way one might approach a rabid stray, a beast on a broken leash, something that should be put down. “Billy, I’m sorry. You’re right, she is real. She’s a real person.” He froze on her words, fist falling to his lap. “She’s real, Billy. There are photos of the two of you…”

“Lemme see.”

She shook her head slightly, not a single hair falling out of place. A flash cut through his mind, so potent that it made him wince- a clear, cloudless sky, a soft blue scarf, and your hair glinting in the sun, falling in your face. “I don’t have them with me, Billy, they’re...I have some of them in a file in my office, but-”

“Go get them.” He nodded toward the door before both hands landed on the top of his head. “Go get them. Go I wanna...I want to see them.” I want to see her.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea, Billy, she… she seems to be a … a trigger for you, for your-”

He stood with such force that his chair fell backwards and for the first time since these little sessions started, he thought he saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. Good. “I said,” he spoke through tight teeth. “Go get the fucking pictures, Krista.”

Her hands were both up now, and she rose slowly. “Alright. Okay.” That little flicker was back under control as she raised her chin. Billy paced a few steps back and forth impatiently. “Billy?” He turned in her direction, blinking at her from behind the dark black paint he’d splattered around the eye holes in his mask. “I need you to sit back down, okay? Sit down, please, and I’ll go grab the file and the pictures, and I’ll come right back.” He watched her swallow, a lump moving down her throat. The fear might be gone from her eyes, but he could still smell it on her and it filled him with satisfaction. She’s always makin’ me talk about fear and nightmares and shit… He was glad to give her a dose of her own prescription.

He adjusted his neck and shoulders, a slight pop coming from the tension as he bent to right his chair, sitting back down in it like he had nothing but respect for proper decorum. Cracking his knuckles and working his jaw, he kept his eyes on her. “I’ll be waiting.”

She hurried to the door before regaining her composure, yanking at her skirt and running her fingers over her hair despite the fact that it was still perfectly in place. Her heels clicked down the hall until he could no longer hear them, and as soon as there was silence it was replaced by a whooshing sound as blood rushed in his ears. I knew it. I knew she...I knew it. He felt his pulse quicken at the thought of getting to see you, see your face with his eyes and not just in his head. Another flash tore through his brain, and somehow he knew what pictures Krista was about to come back with. A statue, some gibberish, your laugh as his arms came around your waist and his lips found the spot on your throat that made you gasp his name.

“Billy,” your voice hit his ear like a chime on the breeze as you twisted in his grasp to face him. The sky was clear but the early spring air was still crisp and your breath puffed out from your lips, a pink tint coloring your cheeks. You placed your hands on either side of his face and smiled at him. “Billy, there’s kids all over the place, you gotta keep it together, lieutenant.” The flicker in your eyes told him that was the last thing that you wanted- him to keep it together- that what you wanted more than anything was for him to ravish you right there in the park, take you right there in the grass to the right of the sidewalk where your feet were planted.

He shrugged. “Not my kids, not my problem.” His fingers combed your hair back from your face as he waited for your reaction.

You snorted and shook your head, reaching for his hand. “Come on, we’re not even there yet. You said I could show you my favorite part of the park. We’re almost there,” you tugged on his hand and he let you. “And then later, you can do all the things you’re thinking right now, Russo.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He answered, trying to keep his tone even and professional.

You led him a few more yards down the winding path until it opened up and a large bronze statue came into view- toadstools and a rabbit with a pocket watch, Alice holding court atop the largest mushroom, and the Mad Hatter leaning on the one directly next to her. You spread your arms wide, hand still holding his. “Ta-da!” Your grin pulled your pink cheeks up, your scarf coming untied at your dramatic gesture. “My favorite place.” Pulling him closer, you wrapped your arm around his waist. “With my favorite person.”

Billy looked over his shoulder playfully. “Someone else here I don’t know about?” When he turned back to you, you were shaking your head, a wistful look in your eyes. “What? What are you lookin’ at me like that for?”

“You know damn well what, Billy.”

The door handle turning and the click of Krista’s heels re-entering the room yanked Billy back to the present. He fought the urge to stand again, but he brought one hand up to his face and peeled the mask back, staring at the manilla folder in her hands. He tapped his thumb anxiously against his pointer finger. “I still don’t know if this is the best idea, Billy,” Dr. Dumont crossed the room slowly, fingers slipping inside the folder’s opening to rifle through the charts and notes and whatever other information she was hoarding on him. “But,” she sighed. “Maybe it will help.” She regained her position across from Billy and he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, so that there were only inches between them.

Krista opened the folder fully, flipping through the first few layers until she got to a smaller envelope. She pulled that out, shutting the folder and sticking it under her notepad. Billy watched her unwind the string that kept the envelope shut, heart pounding against his ribs. He sucked in a breath as she extracted a stack of three photos from the paper sleeve. Billy’s throat went dry and he nearly choked on a breath. Thumb and finger of his left hand still tapping together, he reached silently with his right hand, eyes trained on the photos. “Can I…” suddenly all the rage he’d felt before drained from him and it was replaced with desperation, with need. “Please…” He felt a furrow form in his scarred forehead as his mouth twitched downward.

Krista looked down at the images in her hand and then back up at Billy before handing them over carefully. “Here,” she whispered, folding her hands over the items in her lap and eyeing him quietly as he gaped at the photos in his shaking fingers.

The world spun and the air was punched from his lungs as he tried and failed to keep his eyes from watering. It’s...it’s her… she… An anguished sob fell from his lips as a sledgehammer hit his heart. His thumb brushed over the glossy print out, tracing over your face as though he could feel your skin through the photo. You were smiling, a big one, the kind that would nearly shut your eyes. Your soft lips were stained a muted pink, and one hand was raised to try to keep a breeze-blown strand of hair from getting in your mouth. You were tucked tightly against Billy’s chest, your other arm wound around his back, the pose seeming as natural, as right as anything in the world. He panned over and up a few inches to take in the image of himself- of the man he used to be. His thumb came up to block himself out, focusing only on you. He flipped to the next one- same pose, but his own fingers reached up to keep the hair from your face, closing around yours and causing your smile to change just enough to scrunch your nose a bit. He felt that hammer hit his heart again, little fissures bursting open. She’s always smilin’... He squeezed his eyes shut and felt a tear fight its way through his lashes. She’s...fuck I miss her… “Where is she?” he mumbled quietly, flipping to the next one.

“I don’t know anything damn well,” He responded, smirking down at you.

You rolled your eyes and raised on your toes to leave a quick kiss to the corner of his grin. “You got that right.” You turned toward the statue and took a few steps closer, Billy following you, hands in the pockets of his jacket. “I used to come here a lot when I was younger, you know?” You sniffed against the cold.

“Yeah?” he stepped next to you, looking down to watch your face as you told him about a piece of your past.

You nodded, reaching out to run your hands over the smooth patina of the closest toadstool. “Yeah. When I got old enough to leave home on my own? I’d come here to get away from…” Your smile became sad then, and you shook your head slightly.

Billy understood. You’d told him about your step-father; about the way he treated your mother, and the things he’d say to you as his eyes lingered a little too long on parts of you that he shouldn’t be concerned with. His arm came around you wordlessly and he tugged you closer to himself. He couldn’t protect you then, but he could now, and he vowed to himself that he would. You leaned into him, your arm going around his back, hand finding its way into his pocket, and he was struck by how good it felt to know that you trusted him, even with things like this.

You cleared your throat. “Alice had Wonderland, and I had Central Park. I had this statue. I’d come here and just...daydream. Sometimes I’d bring my sketch pad and draw.” You gave a light squeeze around his midsection before disentangling yourself from him. He dropped his arm, letting you go so that you could take another few steps before bending down to the concrete circle that ran around the edges of the whimsical sculpture. Billy kept his eyes on you, following you closely. You ran your fingers through the words that were engraved into the sidewalk and a grin came back to light your eyes. “The Jabberwocky,” you said fondly before looking up at him.

“The what?” he looked down at the ground as you sat cross-legged, and joined you after brushing some dirt away from the spot. You continued to trace the letters and he followed your fingers.

You laughed to yourself. “The Jabberwocky.” You indicated the engraved text. “It’s a poem...it’s a nonsense poem, about a monster that Alice fought on one of her adventures. All made up words...Bandersnatches and vorpal swords…” you laughed again and looked up at him. “But I loved it. I figured if Alice could slay a monster, so could I.”

Somewhere in the distance the shrieking sounds of childish delight echoed through the fields. Blue and red balloons bobbed on strings in tightly closed fists. Happy families strolled the pathways as blossoms and buds started opening on trees and shrubs. But all he could see was you. “You could. I believe it. Viper sword or not.”

“Vorpal sword,” you corrected, scooting closer.

“Whatever,” he grinned at you before standing, extending a hand to help you up. “Hey, it’s chilly, you wanna get movin’?”

“What do you remember, Billy?” Krista’s voice cut through the clear sky and pulled him back to the overwhelmingly white room.

“She, she, she took me to the statue...in,” his free hand ran over the top of his head before he dragged it down his face, fingers running through the ridges of the scars on his cheeks. “In the park. It was…” He flipped to the last photo and a weight dropped into his stomach. “It was right before I left...she wanted...wanted to show me her favorite place.”

You pulled back on his hand to get his attention. “Wait, Billy.” He turned back to you, raising one eyebrow. “Wait, I-” you dug in your pocket for your phone, unlocking the screen and opening the camera. “I want a picture of us. Here.” You waved your hand towards the sculpture, and let it fall to your side. “I… you’re leaving, Billy. In a few days and…” you bit your bottom lip. “And I want a picture, before you go.” You looked up at him pleadingly. “Okay?”

Billy felt something swim through his chest then, something he’d never felt before, and suddenly he hated the fact that he was shipping out. “Yeah. Anything you want, here…” he held his hand out for your phone, the other arm slipping around you to pull you close, more swiftly that either of you anticipated and it drew a laugh from your lips. He smiled and snapped two photos in quick succession, the sound of your laughter mixing with that new feeling in his chest. He snapped a third one, but he hadn’t noticed that you’d turned to look up at him, still looking at the camera.

“Billy,” you whispered, and he handed you back your phone, turning to face you. You took it and stuck it back in your pocket without looking at the pictures, and he noted the way your eyes swept over his face- as though you were trying to memorize every curve, every angle. “Billy, I...can you do something else for me?”

“Yeah,” he answered, tilting his head. “Yeah, I told you, anything you want.”

“This is something I need, Billy...I…” you rarely stumbled over your words, hardly ever hesitated, so he knew that this was serious. “Billy, I need you to promise you’re coming back, okay? I...I care about you, Russo. I...I need you.”

He recognized that new feeling then at your words. It was need. He needed you, too. Needed this, needed this feeling, this trust this… “I promise.” Everything else faded as he reached for you then, as his hand conformed to the back of your head, lips crashing to yours to validate the promise, to show you that he needed you just as much. You responded immediately, grabbing fistfuls of his thick hair, bending your body closer to his, pressing your chest against his own until he swore he could feel your heart beneath your scarf and your coat. He kissed you hard, but not aggressively, with urgency, but without rushing, taking his time to let his tongue explore your mouth while his lips parted to allow yours to do the same; taking his time to kiss you so thoroughly that you couldn’t possibly question how he felt and how seriously he took his promise.

As he pulled away, you gasped to catch your breath, and your tongue flicked out to wet your lips, like you were still chasing the taste of his kiss. “Wow,” you breathed, falling into him.

His arm tightened around you has his hand rubbed a small circle on your back. He dropped another kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair. “Yeah, wow.”

“I...I...I promised her I’d...she needs me and...I…” He stood then, but slowly this time, his chair staying put. “I told her I’d come back to her but then...I didn’t...I didn’t, did I?” He looked to Dr. Dumont for answers, eyes falling to the folder she still held. He pointed to it. “What else is in there? What else? Did I...is she...where is she?”

Krista shook her head. “These were the last photos of the two of you that she shared on her old social media accounts, Billy. It…” she shrugged. “It seems like you two broke it off while you were away. Does that...do you remember that?”

Billy sniffed, wrinkling his nose. “No.” He said it angrily, though he didn’t know who he was angry with. “No, I wouldn’t have…” He shook his head quickly in agitation. I...why would I? No. No I wouldn’t have… “No. I didn’t...I...I love her I wouldn’t… I didn’t.”

Krista sighed. “I don’t know what happened, Billy. These are the last pictures you took together.”

He pointed to the folder again, taking a step closer. “What else is in there, huh? What else does it say?” The hand he pointed with came to his head, gripping the top. Come on, fucking think...what did I...“Emails! I...I...I remember she sent me emails, while I was over there. And, and, and I...we talked on Skype sometimes. There’s...in there... you have phone records? What else is in the fucking folder, Krista?” His cheeks were wet and his bottom lip was quivering and he hated how every time a piece fell into place three more questions sprang up. “What aren’t you fucking telling me?” He caught his reflection in the window and froze. He looked crazed, like an animal. Like a monster. Like a jabberwocky.

She stood, tucking the folder and the notepad under her arm. “Billy, I think that’s enough for today.” She held her hand up again. “You’re doing really well, Billy. You’re remembering things more clearly.” A small shake of her head made his top lip curl. “I don’t want to interfere with that.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re almost there, Billy, can’t you feel that? You’ve almost solved it.” She reached for his arm and placed her hand there. He yanked it away as though she’d touched him with a hot poker, but it didn’t seem to phase her, that stubborn fearlessness back now that he was drowning in questions again; now that she had him on the ropes once more. “Hold on to those pictures if you want, if you think it will help.” Of course I want them...of course it helps… “I’ll see you in two days, Billy.”

With that she was gone and he was left with the photos in his hand and his reflection in the window. He walked over to it, looking down at the world 18 stories below; at the streets he used to walk through with you. What fuckling happened...how...how did this happen to me?

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @thebbtongue @thesumofmychoices @gollyderek @zaffrenotes @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lysawayne @audreychaz @roses-in-your-country-house @traeumerinwitzhelden @luminex3 @songtoyou @songforhema @ymariejp @belladonnarey @breanime @stories-you-wont-hear

#billy russo #Blue #blue part two #jabberwocky #billy russo x you #billy russo x reader #the punisher fanfiction #billy russo fic #jigsaw #fuck off krista #alice in wonderland #central park #billy smooches #a kiss on the sidewalk #ugh i hate this

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jaqcarrw · 5 years

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❝ Here are the women with ancient anger in their veins and the cruelty of a goddess in their hearts. You will beg before her, you will scream; but Hera never flinched from the words of a mortal, so why would she? Do not stand in her way. She will burn down your kingdoms, herself with it, if it meant your ruin. ❞

JACQUELINE CARROW really is the spitting image of PRISCILLA QUINTANA, right? For someone only TWENTY-FIVE years old, JAC has been forced to endure so much. Yeah, that MUGGLEBORN has been scraping by at the sanctuary since JUNE, 2028, working as a LEADER/COMBAT MEDIC AND UNSPEAKABLE in the DIVISION OF HEALING. SHE is a CIS WOMAN and is known to be HARSH and DISTANT but also RELIABLE and PROTECTIVE. Best of luck surviving through this. ⊰ JO, 26, EST, SHE/HER ⊱

Stat Sheet.

Pinterest.

Trigger Warnings: kidnapping, emotional, physical and verbal abuse, manipulation, stillborn mention, parental death ( all within the first set of bullets in *history* )

History:

[ TW: KIDNAPPING AND MANIPULATION ] Jacqueline was born to a happy muggle couple who had the unfortunate luck in running into the pair of death eaters while they were in ‘hiding’ after the war had ended. Alecto was taken with the idea of having a child and while they tried for one, she hadn’t been able to conceive. If she couldn’t get what she wanted that way, Alecto had decided to take it. The death eater caught eye of Jac, a bright-eyed one year old, and her accidental magic– and set her target. Alecto and her husband spent a few months getting close to the family before the other shoe dropped and their daughter was taken right from under their nose. As a toddler, Jacqueline wasn’t the type to whine or cry. She was quiet…confused and though she still asked for her mother and father she was met with ‘we are your parents’. The next three years had gone by with only a few snaps on Alecto’s part and eventually they grew tired of just playing with Jacqueline when she grew into a child.

[ TW: STILLBORN MENTION, ABUSE MENTION, KIDNAPPING ] The pregnancy had been a surprise to the Carrows after failing to conceive before, however that happiness was soon diminished when the infant was brought into the world lifeless. Distraught and angry, Alecto took it out on Jacqueline because some how she was responsible for the out come. It was the first time for her to see such anger out of her mother and though she was left with bruises to match– jac attempted to console her only to be pushed aside. It took them an entire week to find a replacement for their lost child and they’d left four year old jac to fend for herself – when they came back they brought their new daughter who was red in the face from wailing. Jacqueline grew extremely protective and found herself trying to calm the infant’s, who was named valeria, tears to save her from their parents anger. Though this would last their entire life as Jacqueline became a shield for her little sister and took punishment which she didn’t deserve just to keep her safe.

[ TW: ALLUDING TO KIDNAPPING, ABUSE MENTION ] Jacqueline doesn’t know her origins ( like where she was born, who her parents were, etc ) but she had her suspicions since she was young that something wasn’t right and that she was missing something. The connection of child and parent was nonexistent and it was made clear when the slur ‘mudblood’ was hissed in her direction when things didn’t go her parents way but they’d praised her for being pureblood all along. Her mother’s hatred and anger only burned hotter as the girls grew up and jac took the brunt of it– not fighting back for Valeria’s sake. She would bide her time until she would get her vengeance. [ TW END ]

Growing Up:

She was a smart girl and she focused on her studies while her sister lived as carefree as she could ( which jac found smart just as well ). Hogwarts was a breeze. Jac soaked in information probably too quickly and aced her essays and exams which eventually lead into her career as an unspeakable. Even within her first year, in the love/sacrificial magic dept, she made many discoveries and invented spells that eventually helped save the lives of wixen.

Once the whispers of the dark lord and death eaters stirred around, Jac knew it was trouble. Her mother was hellbent on having her ‘most intelligent daughter’ help with their project as she was an unspeakable with knowledge they believed was important. There wasn’t no room for a ‘no’, so went along with it. She attended the meetings, listened to the schemes, offered advice when she was asked to speak however– she hadn’t realized that they were actually serious in raising inferi along with the Dark Lord. Jac was dragged along to the cave, the cold wind whipping at her cheeks as she stood outside of the cave ( as a look out ) once they began. And when they ended and realized that they had made a mistake-- that she’d made a mistake. jacqueline watched passively as the death eaters fought for their lives-- failing one after the other including her mother. Turning a cold shoulder she apparated away leaving her mother at the mercy of the inferi without hesitation. Jacqueline’s survival was much more important....

She stayed put until she couldn’t any longer, only to see if her parents survived and unfortunately her father did as he was too much of a coward ( they always said one needed to be a little cowardly to survive anyhow ) to step inside. She joined her sister three months later at the strong hold where she poured her talents in keeping those who fought the battles safe as a combat healer and became a leader in no time. Her father is currently locked in the Chamber of Secrets and she gives a whopping zero fucks lmfao

After a recent scuffle ( a month ago ) with the inferi on a mission as a combat medic, Jacqueline went through a checkup with the healers back at Hogwarts and though she had some minor injury during the scuffle-- the most surprising result was that she was pregnant. ( I’d actually would love if the healer that performed the checkup, initially to make sure she was fine and not scratched/bitten, is pretty adamant on her taking care of herself/baby yeno probably wanting her to STOP as she should but she wont because she’s a dumb. BUT HEY potential friend connection please and ty <3 )

As of right now, she is a little over 17 weeks pregnant ( around 4 months ) and she’s still attempting to keep it a secret for as long as she can as she knows that is grounds to take her out of the action where she is needed the most ( and she needs to help put that guilt to rest over unknowingly help the de’s bring this mess into the world ) but girl is showing andddd…walp time is running out..

Personality:

a no nonsense type of person and is pretty black and white when judging if something is right or wrong ( her standards on right and wrong i mean )

she can’t stand betrayal or disrespect of any kind and isn’t the type to let things slide. meaning u screw her over, she’s going to mess you up big time.

very smart, very clever, quick with her wand and pretty much anyone who stands in front of it will take a beating when dueling/fighting. and talented in healing which is why she took on the position of a combat medic instead of going into the research division like the other unspeakables.

her family is the most important to her- or well her sister. she’s very self sacrificing for them and shields her little sister from any sort of harm. which means she takes the brunt of their parents abuse or really any abuse because she loves her baby sister okayyyyowhigowihegowiheg.

outside of her fam its hard to get close to her outside of her being polite. if you do manage to become friends with her she’s extremely loyal and protective. SHE TAKES EVERYONE UNDER HER WING TBH the mom friendTM but like good luck? she’s like a block of ice.

jacqueline quite realistic and doesn’t dwell on things ( ha. ig inferi is different ) as she see it more as a hindrance to react emotionally to situations rather than take it at face value on with a levelhead. ( which she finds valeria annoyingly NOT doing ) but don’t let her fool you, she might not react outwardly but she is just as explosive as her little sister – perhaps even more so. you talk about blazing a path through their enemies when she finds the opportunity. she bides her time before she strikes tbh

and she isn’t phased a single bit by being ostracized because of her mother and uncle’s actions. she’d much rather just be left alone anyways LMAO. HOWEVER please do try and be frands with her lol eventually she will grow fond ioeghwoeihgwie she’s as soft as she is seemingly cold. haha

#inferiintro #( about.)

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cosmic-hearts · 5 years

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pretty | hwang hyunjin | ep 2. (final)

hwang hyunjin x female reader - highschool!au, player!au

genres; romance, angst, fluff

warnings; none

foreword;

“Hwang Hyunjin, please,” you choke out, eyes welling up fast with unstoppable tears, “don’t play games with me.”

click here for ep 1!

“What the hell were you thinking?” Seungmin asks, arms crossed over his chest, trying to keep his volume in control. Trying to stop himself from straight up yelling at Hwang Hyunjin.

Hyunjin has never seen Seungmin angry before. Frustrated? Yes. Annoyed? Certainly. But never angry.

“Nothing much,” Hyunjin mumbles in response, which simply serves to grate on Seungmin’s already ruffled nerves.

“Whatever he was thinking, it can’t have been straight,” Felix helpfully adds.

“Well, clearly. I can’t believe you confessed to Y/N and then threw it all away for the sake of the new transfer girl just because she’s pretty. Really, Hwang Hyunjin, I thought you were better than this,” Seungmin continues, and it is the disappointment that flashes across his eyes that really hits a nerve in Hyunjin.

“You guys don’t understand,” Hyunjin can only protest weakly, unable to come up with a better rebuttal. Because his friends are right; he is being a complete asshat, and he knows it.

“Yeah, I really don’t. All I understand is that Y/N won’t reply to any of our texts, Jisung says that she’s completely devastated, and you’re being a first-class asshole. You don’t deserve Y/N.”

The thought of you being devastated over him makes his stomach clench in guilt.

Yet, he’s fallen so far that the thought of making things right with you makes his gut twist even further.

—

You don’t even know why you’re so upset.

You should have known that a leopard will never change its spots. A player will never change his ways.

And Hwang Hyunjin would never fall in love with you.

All you had to blame as yourself, for being foolish enough to think that it was all real.

The night at the Han River was real, the stars were real, the ripples were real, but you should have known that Hwang Hyunjin never would be.

Why should you be upset over him? You had scores of guys waiting to take you out on a date. With your looks and attractiveness, you had no problem finding someone. It was only a matter of choice.

But no, you weren’t going to toy with someone’s emotions the same way Hyunjin did yours. You weren’t going to use someone else to get back at him; that would be downright low, and you didn’t wish to stoop to his level.

Sure, he’s attractive, as are you— but you have a conscience.

And that’s what makes you two different.

—

After a couple days you decide that you can’t avoid them forever. You reply all of Jisung’s, Seungmin’s and Felix’s texts, mostly promises of having your back and whopping Hyunjin’s ass. You’re glad that they don’t blindly take his side, being his friends after all.

Realization dawns also that you can’t avoid Hyunjin forever. You want to settle things straight with him, even if it means that you two can never go back to being the same again.

So, on Friday afternoon after finishing class you head to the dance practice room, the one place you know you’ll definitely be able to find him. Your world may have stopped for a while but you know that his still goes on without a doubt.

“Hyunjin, you dance so well!” You hear a sweet voice filter through the doorway as you approach the room. A voice that makes you backtrack and scurry to the window where a crack in the blinds reveal its occupants.

You feel like a thief, a sneak. Like you’re stealing something precious to Hyunjin, intruding in his privacy. You almost laugh at the absurdity of the situation, the sheer irony of it all. Hyunjin’s the one who did you dirty, yet you’re the one feeling like a sneak.

You see the girl for the first time. She’s a petite, small girl with dark hair and fair porcelain skin, almost like a doll’s. Her bangs fall perfectly styled over her eyes, her cheeks tinted rosy pink. Whether she’s blushing or she actually used blush, you can’t quite tell. Despite yourself, you think they actually do make a good couple. The visuals.

But when Hyunjin leans down to give her a peck on the cheek, you snap out of it. And that is when your phone decides to slip out of your hands and drop to the floor with a metallic, resounding clang!

Instinctively you duck down to pick it up, but it’s too late. He’s seen you.

“Who’s that?” The girl asks, ready to get up and move to the door to check, but Hyunjin stops her.

“It’s no one,” he says, placing a hand on her arm, “Don’t worry about it.”

Funny how he’d gone from being so in love with you to calling you no one in just a matter of days. Bitterness encases your tongue, a cold fist closing around your heart like a vice.

But no, you’re not going to walk away. You’re going to make him listen to you for the last time.

Trying your hardest not to bust the door open, you walk in, startling both Hyunjin and his girlfriend.

You’d prepared a little speech in your head, a speech that would portray you as dignified, calm and level-headed, not the typical cliche embodiment of someone who’d just been love-scorned; bitter, angry and jealous. A speech that would show Hwang Hyunjin you couldn’t care less about his betrayal and that you’d moved on almost immediately.

However, as soon as you make eye contact with him, the words die in your throat and slide back down to your stomach, and any arguments you had prepared fly straight out of your head.

You don’t understand how he manages to look effortlessly ethereal, just like the night at the Han River. His dark hair falls over his eyes, shielding them, as if he is aware that if you get full view of his orbs something in you would break. You remember the weeks of sheer bliss you spent with him, and with a pang you realize just how much you miss him.

Finding yourself incapable of speech, a searing ache begins to tear through your heart, eating away at the cool facade you’d cast around yourself.

Why did Hwang Hyunjin have to break your heart like that? And why does he have such an effect on you?

Finally, you say the most you can manage.

“Hwang Hyunjin, please,” you choke out, eyes welling up fast with unstoppable tears, “don’t play games with me.”

And then with a turn of your heel, you leave them.

—

It’s been a month. A month of not having Hwang Hyunjin in your life. A month without cheesy texts, bubble tea dates, and spontaneous dance performances.

Dramatic as it sounds, you feel a large gaping hole in your life, a void that can’t be filled no matter how many seasons of Running Man you binge watch. A hole that can’t be mended despite the plethora of confessions you receive on an almost daily basis. Because Hwang Hyunjin has ruined you; you can’t see yourself being with anyone else, and the thought of using someone else as a rebound fills you with dread and disgust.

You two haven’t spoken since that dreadful confrontation that rid you of all shame and dignity. And though it hurts, seeing him with the new girl, without him even glancing your way, the pain eases slowly with the days. With each passing day, the dull ache in your chest eases, little by little. You no longer flinch whenever the boys mention his name out loud. You give up trying to avoid him in the hallways so that you won’t have to see him or his girlfriend, but instead you walk right past them as if they’re invisible.

You’d thought it was all over. Whatever you had with Hyunjin, whether it was real or not, it was certainly over. The chapter was closed, you two would never cross paths again.

But that wasn’t what fate had in store for you.

You were in the same class as Hyunjin for English, the one class where neither Felix, Jisung nor Seungmin were with you since they were all placed in a more advanced class.

And it was just your luck that your teacher decided a pair project would be just what the class needed.

“Y/N, Hyunjin was your buddy when you first came, right? So I’ll do you a favour and let you two work together on the assignment. You two should know each other quite well,” the teacher says, winking conspiratorially at you, as though she knows that you were absolutely dying to be paired with Hyunjin. You weren’t. You can’t believe the woman thinks she’s doing you a favour.

But you stop yourself from protesting. It would only make you seem immature and ungrateful. So you grit your teeth, suck it up and tell yourself to deal with it. It’s just one project.

“Go sit next to Hyunjin, Y/N! The next pair will be…”

With an internal roll of your eyes, you get out of your seat and move over to Hyunjin, determinedly avoiding his gaze every step of the way.

To your surprise, Hyunjin speaks first. “Hey, Y/N.”

You look at him, unable to mask the surprise in your eyes, before you decide to settle for being cordial. “Hi,” you say.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and stretches his body out, clearly uncomfortable. Rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your eyes, he says, “So we’re partners.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you… okay with it?” He chooses his words and treads carefully, as if afraid that you’re a ticking time bomb about to explode on him at any moment.

You finally lock gazes with him, saying with some asperity, “If you’re not comfortable with this I’ll just go to Mrs Kim and ask for a different partner. Just let me know so we don’t waste time.”

He seems a little taken aback by your brusque tone, but he says immediately, “N-No. I… want to be your partner.”

Your breath just about leaves your body. He’s doing it again, you think to yourself. Twisting your emotions and playing them with his carefully selected words, thinking you’ll fall for it all over again. You may have been a fool once, but you weren’t about to fall back into that state again. Steeling your nerves, you respond with a firm, businesslike nod.

Hwang Hyunjin won’t be able to get to you a second time.

—

You two decide to work on the project at the dance practice room, which you immediately know is a huge mistake but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction of backing down. The walk there is long and silent, with neither of you bothering to initiate conversation.

When he leads you to the room you bite your lip hard to keep yourself from just running out the door in awkwardness. This was the same place where you let your veneer of dignity and composure crumble, where you showed Hyunjin just how affected you were by him. The pain that you thought had gone away starts to gnaw its way through your heart.

You drop your bag on the floor and sit down cross-legged, sensing the tension in the room mount to levels thick enough to be cut with a knife. Hyunjin sits down too, stretching out his unfairly long legs, before deciding to cross them.

“So, let’s just get this over with,” you say, pulling out materials from your backpack.

Over the course of the next couple hours, you’re surprised to have been able to actually accomplish some measure of productivity with Hyunjin. Mostly, it’s you telling him what to do, him silently nodding and taking down notes. But still, it’s a start.

When you decide to call it a day, you pick up your bag, more than ready to dash out and leave.

“Y/N, let me walk you home. It’s late,” Hyunjin says, putting his books into his bag and trying to keep up with you.

“No, it’s fine.” You make your way to the door.

Hyunjin crosses the room in a few large strides, grabbing onto the door handle and sandwiching himself neatly between you and the door, using his frame to block the doorway so that you can’t exit.

You’re suddenly acutely aware of how close you are to Hyunjin, the lack of proximity between you two. You’re very nearly pressed up against him, so much so that you can almost feel the rise and fall of his chest. The last time you two were this close was when he confessed his feelings for you at the Han River. You make the mistake of looking up, right into his eyes. The same dark eyes that you fell for, the eyes that once held sincerity and love for you.

For a moment, you feel yourself falling all over again. Falling for him, falling into a dark pit of something deeper than just a mere crush. With every passing second you’re looking in his eyes, you feel your resolve weakening, you feel Hwang Hyunjin reclaiming his grip on your heart. You remember the feel of his lips on yours, the magical night where he confessed to you, the night where you thought you had found your first true love. Desire and hatred for Hwang Hyunjin wage an agonizing war in your heart and mess terribly with your brain.

Finally unable to bear it any longer, you break away from his gaze, saying softly, “Fine. Do whatever you want.”

The walk to your home isn’t that much better. An uncomfortable silence fills the space between you two. You have so much to say to him, but at the same time, you have absolutely nothing to say to him. The words that should have been spoken long ago have no place now.

Though it is only a short journey, it feels like forever. You’re immeasurably relieved when the familiar sight of your apartment block comes into view.

“You can go now. I’ll be okay from here,” you say, stopping Hyunjin.

He doesn’t say anything, merely looks at you as if waiting for you to go. You take that as your cue to leave.

But then you feel a forceful tug at your wrist, and before you know it, Hyunjin’s holding your wrist in his hand and pulling you back to him, and your face just about collides into his chest. He wraps his arms around your back, pushing you so close to him, and you feel yourself turn to slush in his arms.

“I missed you, Y/N. So much,” Hyunjin whispers in your ear.

You want to stay in his arms, but you know that it’s not right. So you push yourself away from his chest, away from his embrace, his warmth. You don’t miss the hurt in his eyes.

“Please leave,” you whisper, though it comes out more like a plea than a command.

“No, Y/N, I need to tell you why I did what I did.”

“There can’t be a justifiable explanation for the way you treated me. I’m not a toy you can just play around with and toss away when you got bored with me. And now you have the audacity to say that you miss me? Why? Because you’re bored with your girlfriend? Because she’s not pretty enough for you anymore? I didn’t think you were this shallow—,”

“It’s because you’re so pretty,” Hyunjin says quietly.

You think you might have misheard. “What? What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re so pretty that I got scared, all right? I was scared that I would never be able to measure up, that there would be too many guys after you, that I wasn’t good enough for you. You’re so pretty it makes me scared,” Hyunjin says, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

“So it’s just because I’m pretty? That’s it?” You feel your heart sinking with the realization that Hyunjin only liked you because of your looks. Wouldn’t be the first time, but you thought he would be different from the rest.

“No, you’re such an amazing person. You have such a beautiful personality, and that’s what scares me even more. You’re pretty inside and out. You actually care about me, beyond what’s on the surface. I… I was just scared that you were too perfect to be real.”

“So you went ahead and started dating someone else, thinking it would solve the problem of your own insecurity? When you could have tried to talk to me about it? You didn’t think I would understand?” The words were coming out fast and furious now, as were the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I never wanted to hurt you, but right after I confessed I was worried that it was all a mistake. I… I thought I didn’t deserve you.”

You take a step closer to him. “Hwang Hyunjin, shouldn’t I be the one to decide if you deserved me or not? I was in love with you, and I was so happy when you confessed, excited to see you the next day in school, only to discover that you started dating someone else. Do you know how shitty I felt?”

“I know, and I know I messed up real bad, Y/N, I really did and I just want to say I’m sorry.”

You stare down at the ground, unsure of how to respond to his long-overdue apology.

“If it’s too much of me to ask… I just want to know… Are you still in love with me? Do I… Will I ever stand a chance?”

You think of an answer almost immediately. Funnily enough, it doesn’t hurt to answer this question.

“As much as I hate to admit it, of course I still am. I don’t think it’s that easy to fall out of love with you,” you say, and Hyunjin perks up instantly, as if the words are a bullet of hope shot right through his heart.

You would have loved to throw your arms around Hyunjin and profess your still-existing love for him, which would have ended up in you two getting together, achieving the satisfying happily-ever-after you so desire.

But you know that that’s not the way things work. It would be a weak, facile attempt to solve things. You have to put things right once and for all.

“But I can’t be with you, not now at least,” you say honestly, feeling a dull sensation seize your heart at those words, because you basically just shut down any possibility of getting together with Hyunjin, but still, you know that they have to be said. Your heart roars in protest but this time, you know you have to listen to your brain. At your words Hyunjin’s face falls and he croaks out a broken, “Why?”

“The thing is, you’re right, I am a pretty amazing person,” you say, “and I only fall in love with amazing people. I fell in love with you, Hwang Hyunjin, because you’re amazing too. I love you for who you are. You’re not perfect, but neither am I. And while it honours me that you put me on such a pedestal, I’m not perfect. I want to be with you, I want to love you, but if you can’t even love yourself, then who else can? Even if we get together, we won’t be happy.”

By now, Hyunjin’s cheeks are shining with tears as well. Your heart breaks at having made him cry. You take his hand in yours, rubbing circles into his knuckles with your thumb.

“Learn to love yourself first, Hwang Hyunjin. You need to realize how amazing you are. Maybe in the future, if we’re meant to be… it’ll all work itself out.”

With a final squeeze of his hand, you slowly let go, turning away into the darkness before he can catch sight of the pain in your eyes, the pain that threatens to demolish you.

Yet you know that it is this final bout of pain that can well and truly free you from the clutches of heartbreak, unhinge you from the hold that Hwang Hyunjin has over you.

And maybe, after this pain passes, you two will finally be okay again.

—

“Y/N, hurry up! We’re going to be late!”

“Han Jisung, if I had known you were going to drag my ass out of bed at 7.30 just to watch some stupid show I honestly couldn’t care less about, I wouldn’t have agreed to this. I could have been at home right now watching Netflix.”

“Oh, come on, just treat this as a date. You seriously don’t know how lucky you are to be going on a date with the one and only Han Jisung. And anyway, this is the first talent show you’ll be attending since you joined our school. It’s going to be really memorable.”

“It’s not exactly a date when Felix and Seungmin are coming along.”

“Aww, are you jealous now? You wanted to be alone with me, didn’t you? I knew it! You’ve always had a crush on me—,”

“Han Jisung, are you stealing my girl now?” A sudden voice interrupts your boisterous banter with Jisung, and you smile as you feel someone put an arm around your shoulders.

“Seungmin-ah!” You say cheerfully, leaning into his shoulder. It’s no secret that out of your three best friends, you’re closest to Seungmin. He’s like the older brother you always wished you had.

Felix gags, before proceeding to cling onto Jisung who launches into a bout of querulous whining about the difference in treatment you give him and Seungmin.

You smile at your friends, feeling contentment wash over your being like the soft caress of warm sunglow. One good thing that had come out of the whole Hyunjin fiasco was Jisung, Seungmin, and Felix. They had your back like they promised, and you four grew even closer than before. They’re still friends with Hyunjin, but you haven’t talked to him in the last three months since finishing the English project.

You continue to groan and grumble about being dragged out of bed on a Saturday night, and Jisung continues to ramble on about how this talent show is oh so important for your artistic appreciation and holistic development. Then he proceeds to tell you that it’s actually mandatory to attend the show in order to get a pass on your art elective. Classic Jisung.

They bring you to the school’s largest auditorium, usually used for performances during special events. Throngs of students troop in, filling up the plush red seats. As is your habit, you let your eyes skim over the crowd of students, unconsciously searching for a tall male figure. A habit you wish you could get rid of entirely, but it’s simply impossible.

You’ve just begun to get comfortable, nearly falling asleep on Seungmin’s shoulder when the lights dim and Felix taps you awake.

The performances are good, from a dance group covering the latest K-pop hits to a soloist belting out passionate melodies, and even a hip-hop duo hyping the audience up with spitfire rap. You think that maybe giving up Netflix Night for this isn’t such a bad idea after all.

“And now, for the final performance of tonight. It might come as a bit of a surprise, because this particular student has never participated in any of our school’s talent shows. This is his first time performing for us, so I’m really looking forward to it! Can you guys guess who it is? Making his debut as a dancer on this very stage, please welcome Hwang Hyunjin!”

The lights dim, plunging the hall into complete darkness. A hush falls over the audience, a sense of anticipation spreading among the students like an unseen wildfire. You press your palms tightly together, unconsciously biting your lips. Seungmin places a hand on your back and pats it gently.

You hear the sound of footsteps on the stage, and when the light comes on again you find yourself staring at the boy who ensnared your heart once upon a time.

You watch, utterly transfixed, as he begins to dance, letting the rhythm rock his body, allowing the melody to pulsate through his veins. You watch as he becomes one with the music and pours out his passion in a way that brings tears to your eyes.

Hwang Hyunjin has blossomed. He has found himself, and as you study the expression of unwavering confidence on his face, you know that his sense of belief in himself has skyrocketed.

Gone is the pseudo confidence he used to fuel his ego by playing with girls, using them to soothe his pride. Beneath all those layers of mock flirtatiousness, he was but an insecure teenager looking for a way to assert his self-importance, which accounted for his player tendencies. But now, he has truly learnt to love himself; he has finally realized just how much potential he holds within his fingertips.

When he finishes with a flourish, his eyes roam the crowd, as if searching for someone. And then his eyes land on you, and you two lock gazes, feeling the weight of unspoken words, lost time and blazing emotions pass between the both of you.

As his lips lift in a soft smile, you feel a rainbow of hope break through the saturnine clouds of loneliness and loss you’d been unconsciously battling the past few months without Hyunjin by your side.

And that’s when you know, you two are finally okay again.

a/n; i’m really sorry for the long wait!!! but here it is finally, hope you guys like it <3

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfiction #hwang hyunjin fanfiction #hwang hyunjin fanfic #stray kids #hwang hyunjin

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