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nicxl333 · 2 years ago

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could you do a part 2 of bllk boys accidentally hurting their partner bu with a good ending please.

My stomach wouldn't be able to handle mor angst(⁠T⁠T⁠)

BABY YOU SOLD ME A DREAM PT.2

thanks for the req anon, i think you’re doing everyone a favour here by asking for this because whew! i was ready to dropkick a mf from writing pt.1 lmao

also if you’re here by chance it’s probably best if you read pt.1 for context before you read pt.2 | :3

characters: isagi yoichi, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, barou shoei, itoshi rin

content: overwhelming fluff, slight angst, major angst (in rin and barou’s part), reader is female coded (the term ‘girlfriend ‘ is used)

tags: @kaiserkisser @silly-ez @scaramouchemyloveee @mariyumemi @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @hsxhype @aquamarine001 @nxgiswife @hanagoromo-roses

☆彡 ISAGI YOICHI

two weeks. two long, monotonous weeks spent without isagi. yes bachira did his very best to make sure you were comfortable with him, but you missed isagi so damn much.

it wasn’t only difficult for you though, bachira was trapped in a bad position. due to him being a friend of both you and isagi, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. while it was evident that isagi had fucked you over badly, being in a team with isagi and having him as a bestfriend didn’t make things better. he couldn’t just pick a side and be done with it.

unbeknownst to you though, isagi asked bachira multiple times each day about how you were doing. after some self reflection, he realised just how wrong he was for treating you that way. especially since people like you nowadays are hard to come by. someone so nurturing, caring and full of love and devotion for their s/o was quite the rarity to find. and to think he nearly lost all of that with just a few words. really opened up his perspective of things. he wanted to do better. for you and himself.

and so, he cut down his training times, making more time for himself to wind down from daily intensive workouts. he thought of words to say to you, to make it known to you that he was aware where he went wrong and was taking responsibility for his actions.

he also went shopping, to buy you a multitude of gifts. clothes, jewellery, trainers and heels, perfumes, trinkets. you name it, he bought it. it all cost him a hand and a foot, but he didn’t mind, he would do it 100 times over for you. (we should remember this man is a professional footballer, he’s got dough.) once home, he placed all the gifts on the coffee table in the living room, having to put some on the floor due to the sheer amount he bought, ready to take them to bachira’s tomorrow.

little did he know he wouldn’t have to make the commute.

you had said your goodbyes to bachira that same day, thanking him for taking you in for so long with a big bear hug, to which he returned with just as much (platonic) love as you had shown him. you placed your bag in the backseat of your car, turning on the ignition and beginning the drive back home.

as the roads whizzed by you on the highway, so did the thoughts in your head. you were very nervous to have to talk to isagi again, to have to recall exactly what happened that night. glancing at the time on the dashboard, you drew the conclusion that isagi should be training right now, which would at least give you time to prepare before he got back.

as you pulled up to the apartment complex, the first thing you noticed was that isagi’s car was there, in his usual spot next to yours.

‘he’s home?’

surely not, maybe he just hitched a ride or something. although that didn’t make any sense whatsoever. there would be no reason why isagi would skip his evening trainings, not that you could think of anyways. even after joint practice with his team he would then further push himself to do his own training, polishing up on his skills. so to think he’s potentially broken that pattern confused you.

after parking your car and collecting your things you made your way to your front door, unlocking it and venturing in. once you placed your keys on the side table and took off your shoes, you walked into the empty living room, ultimately puzzled when you noticed the coffee table filled to the brim with bags from your favourite places.

“yoichi? you there?”

nothing.

you therefore assumed he was out, deciding to take a closer look at the bags. inside, everything you had ever bought for yourself or displayed interest in while out with isagi lay in each bag. even things that you didn’t have, but wanted, were present.

he remembered.

your eyes immediately welled with tears of appreciation, head snapping to your bedroom door when you heard it open, isagi’s figure stepping out. you immediately jolted, not expecting him to actually be here, even though you didn’t actually take the time to look and see properly.

“shit! y/n, you’re back? wait, why’re you crying?”

in an instant he crossed the distance to you, wiping the tears away once he assessed and evaluated that you were not hurt.

“uh— sorry. i should’ve asked you first. is this okay?” he quizzed, holding the sides of your face tenderly. you nodded, leaning into his touch.

“are these for me yoichi?” you looked into his cobalt blue eyes. one hand left your cheek, rubbing at the skin behind his neck, suddenly feeling shy.

“erm…yes. yes they are. i wasn’t expecting you back though, i was gonna surprise you tomorrow. ” he pulled you towards the sofa, sitting you down and looking deep into your (e/c) eyes.

“look y/n, i know materialism doesn’t take away what i did to you, but i want you to know just how sorry i am. you didn’t deserve how i treated you. not two weeks ago or months before. i made you feel lonely, i put football before you. when you needed me, i shut you out. and i take full accountability for that. words couldn’t describe just how badly i’m in love with you and how crazy you make me feel. i couldn’t bear to lose that forever. hell, these two weeks without you have tormented me enough. a lifetime without you would finish me off for good.”

you listened to him speak every word, touched that he would say such soothing words to you. yes, you did expect him to apologise, but not to go above and beyond to show his willingness to change.

your nose started flaring, the sting of your eyes warning that you were about to cry again.

feeling uncomfortable with your silence, isagi pressed you slightly.

“y/n? are you— are you oka-”

you cut him off by pouncing on him, engulfing him in a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him like it was your last.

“i’m yours yoichi. always and forever.”

☆彡 MIKAGE REO

you woke up in the same hotel room you cried yourself to sleep in. throat dry, head pulsating and heart wounded. you needed some form of rejuvenation, but, considering you didn’t have any clothes on you, seemed hard to achieve.

you reached for your phone, shocked when you saw 20 missed calls and 46 messages from the very same person who caused you anguish in the first place. opening the message app you see the most recent messages being sent at around 5am.

“y/n, where are you?”

“y/n please answer the phone!”

“are you safe at least, i’m worried about you.”

“i just wanna know if you’re okay, we need to talk.”

“y/n?”

“y/n please, im starting to worry, just send me a text, or something. let me know you’re okay.”

although you were beyond pissed at the guy, he was concerned for your safety, and to make him worry for you like that shouldn’t have to be something anyone should experience.

you sent him a quick, straightforward response.

“i’m fine, you don’t need to worry.”

the read receipt came as quickly as you sent it, a bubble popping up, signaling that reo was typing. however, after a few moments, it disappeared altogether, leaving your message standing alone.

you sighed, deciding that the least you could do was shower, feeling clammy and, simply put, dirty.

luckily, your job was well paying so you were able to book a lavish en-suite hotel room, although you didn’t pay attention to that much last night, willing to go just about anywhere as long as it weren’t near reo. inside the bathroom lay exquisite amenities, top branded shower gel, shampoo and conditioner, along with oils and different expensive face care products. an unopened toothbrush pack also was present on the bathroom counter, with toothpaste alongside it. and by the full glass shower itself stood a towel and robe on the hanging rack.

it weren’t exactly clothes, but it was a start. better than staying in your dress the whole day. while you waited for the shower water to warm you looked at yourself in the mirror, cringing at how dishevelled your figure was. your cheeks were tear stained, causing your mascara to run, your lips had smeared lipstick still present, and your hair? let’s not even go there. you looked a hot mess, physical evidence of your current mood.

once heated to a substantial temperature you stepped into the shower, revelling at how that warm water melted into your skin. you made good work of scrubbing down your skin, leaving no traces of any events that may have transpired the day before.

soon enough you finished up your shower, stepping out and wrapping the towel round your figure, feeling refreshed, but still incomplete. you brushed your teeth next, trying to avoid letting your thoughts go off topic from the current task at hand.

just as you were walking into the room itself to look for moisturiser, you heard a knock at the door. it confused you to the core. no one actually knew your whereabouts so you couldn’t rack your brain to guess who it could be. you ventured close to the door, looking through the peephole and visibly relaxing once you saw a hotel worker standing, waiting.

“hello?”

“ah, good morning miss y/n, i have a bag here requested to be brought to you.”

if you weren’t confused before, you were bewildered now. this meant that someone hand to have known where’d you were, but how? only one way to find out.

“requested by who, might i ask?”

“mr…mikage reo?”

what the actual hell. you were well and truly silenced by the revelation. more importantly, it’s quite amazing how he managed to find your location with such haste. although it shouldn’t really surprise you so much, considering he probably had connections due to his status. it made you wonder just what exactly he brought to you.

“erm ma’am?”

you cracked the door open, seeing one of reo’s duffel bags stuffed to the brim. the hotel worker held it out for you to take, bowing then turning to leave immediately after. you carried the heavy bag through the room, placing it on the ottoman at the end of the bed.

you stood for a second, debating whether you should open it or not. curiosity got the better of you though, and you unzipped the bag, stalling when you realised it was a bag of clothes for you, as well as the moisturiser you use, some makeup products and your favourite trainers. it’s like he somehow knew you would need clothes, probably since you didn’t return home last night.

taking the clothes from the bag you realised he packed you one of your favourite hoodies, his own hoodie.

after moisturising yourself you started to put the clothes on, feeling slightly better about yourself. you looked into your makeup bag, seeing some of your basic everyday skin and hair products, as well as your everyday perfume, feeling grateful that reo at least paid attention enough to know what you liked and used.

just as you had finished your skincare routine you heard another lock at the door, wondering who it could be at this time. you got up and crossed your way to the door, looking through the peephole and freezing.

your boyfriend, reo stood at the door, looking around nervously.

you gauged your options for a moment, reaching an ultimatum with yourself that you couldn’t avoid him forever. you opened the door fully, stepping to the side for him to walk in, which he did, stepping meticulously and with precaution, while you closed the door behind him.

all was silent for a moment, neither party knowing what to say to the other, a million thoughts rushing through the room. the tension was taut, the air thick, and awkwardness seeping in.

you collected yourself, deciding to start it off.

“thanks for the clothes, i appreciate it.”

“it’s…the least i could do, considering how i treated you.” he said, simultaneously biting down on his lip.

“yeah.”

he moved closer towards you, looking at your expression to see if he was crossing boundaries at any point.

“y/n.” you looked at him with apprehension, worried about what may fly out of his mouth next. “i want you to know that what happened last night, was entirely my fault. i need you to understand that.”

you frowned with sadness displayed on your face. yes he may be owning up to his actions, but that didn’t explain why he said what he said. especially if he could say something of that degree to you with such ease. it sounded like he meant every word.

becoming slightly anxious from your silence, he continued on.

“i made you it sound like you were inadequate or you were lower than me because i have money. i know it sounds bad, but y/n, it’s really the opposite. you don’t look at me for my background, you look at me for who i am as a person. you make me feel normal. make me feel like i can be myself around you. i don’t have to keep myself guarded around you and i appreciate you so much for it. i guess that’s why i spoke out of turn to you like that last night. because you’re probably the only person who can actually knock me down a peg. and having nagi hear that made me scared. scared because i was vulnerable in front of him. of course, i’m not excusing my actions, and i’m not asking for forgiveness, i just want you to know i’m sorry.”

you nodded slowly in understanding, looking at the way he subconsciously tugged on a piece of his violet tresses. he left his hair down today. you loved it when his hair was down. he knew that.

“i hear you reo, but that’s not the only issue. this whole problem stemmed from the fact that you spend too much time with nagi. i don’t wanna be the girlfriend that prohibits you from spending time with your friends, that’s not who i am, but when you’re with nagi so much that it makes you forget important dates, that’s when it becomes a problem. especially when you then make it out to be like i’m the problem. no one is saying you can’t be around him, but have a backbone please. he’s always there reo. sometimes i just want you to myself, is that too much to ask for?”

he realised where he went wrong, casting you aside for the sake of nagi, which wasn’t cool. and he didn’t want to lose you. you were too good to him and he felt so strongly about you. anything you asked for could never be too much, not to him.

and so, he stepped closer to you still, scooping you up in his arms and spinning you around, relishing in the way you wrapped your arms around his neck, both for stabilisation and comfort.

“no baby, it’s never too much. not when it comes to you.”

you squeezed him tighter, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck and smiling.

“i don’t like it when we fight reo, i love you too much for that.”

“i love you too y/n,” he placed you down gently on the bed, laying you back and caging you in with both arms, his hair hanging directly over your face. “so…we’re gonna go back home and i want you to pack your bags. we’re going to mykonos for the week to celebrate our anniversary together.”

you straightened up, wondering where this was all coming from.

“huh? reo, you’re forgetting something? you may be off season right now but i still have work.”

“not for the next two weeks, i pulled some strings so now you have paid time off, which, gives you more time with your favourite man.”

you chuckled at his revelation, knowing he definitely used his power to threaten your manager. reo could be so demanding at times.

“speaking of which, do you know where he is?” his face immediately darkened at that.

“wanna repeat that?”

“nope!”

☆彡 NAGI SEISHIRO

nagi was in a state. it had only been 4 days since you broke up with him, but that was 4 days too long for him. it wasn’t actually until you broke it off with him and it sunk in that you were gone, that it really registered for him.

he missed you.

it made him realise, as much as he hated being bothered…he didn’t mind if it were you. he really did enjoy spending time with you. especially when cuddling. your figure was so soft, a perfect cushion for him to lay on as he slept. you would play with his hair so gently, lulling him to sleep. and you were really pretty.

the apartment just seemed all the more empty without you. yes, he did live alone pre blue lock a few years back, but having you live with him made him get used to having someone around. he grew comfortable and accustomed to it. so much so that it felt lonely when you left.

you had temporarily went back to your parents house while you looked for a new place to live. you had a few items of miscellaneous clothing left behind in your room, but you had ran out, thus needing the majority of your stuff, which you had left back at nagi’s.

you left off, with the promise to your parents that you’d be back soon.

the engine hummed as you drove back, playing your playlist on a high volume, hoping to drown out the thoughts spiralling in your head, although it did little to silence them.

you didn’t plan a time to leave out, but realised that you had coincidentally headed out at the same time nagi would be home, a meeting inevitable. oh well. had to happen at some point. you planned on a quick and brisk pit stop, hoping to minimise interaction with him as much as possible.

you pulled up to the apartment complex, walking through the lobby, swiping your keycard and pressing the lift to go to the penthouse.

in no time you reached the top, the lift doors opening. you stepped out and pushed your key into the lock, opening the door as silently as you could, walking in and shutting it with a click.

yes, you may have been moving around like a teenager after a forbidden night out, but you would much rather that than have to be further insulted by nagi, should he catch you.

alas, things cannot always go smoothly in life, for nagi had heard you, stepping out of the bedroom, shirtless with loosely hanging shorts, evidently having just woken up from a nap.

he instantly stopped, rubbing his eyes to see if he was tweaking or not. yet, you stood there, trying to disappear in that moment.

“y/n…you’re here.”

“only to get my things nagi, i’ll be out of your hair in around half an hour.”

nagi. his own name turned his mood sour. he’d much rather you call him by his actual name, or sei, not his last. and you knew that fact very well, making sure he knew damn well you were serious.

you begun to hurriedly walk towards the bedroom, where he was standing by the door, attempting to walk past him as quickly as possible. he intervened however, stepping about halfway into the door so that you were now directly in front of him and couldn’t get past, unless you spoke to him.

“are you really leaving y/n?”

“it’s l/n to you nagi, and yes. you don’t get to say something like that to me and think we’ll be cool after. it’s fucked up.”

you turned so he couldn’t see you, tears beginning to form at the painful recollection of what occurred a few days ago. you didn’t trust yourself to say anything else, for the fear of bursting into tears held you back.

“please don’t leave me y/n, i can do better, i promise. i regret what i said. really badly. i’m— i’m sorry.”

you knew that nagi didn’t like talking as it is (he referred to it as a hassle), so to have him trying to at least communicate with you did mean something. not enough to satiate you though.

“y/n?”

when you didn’t say anything back he lightly tugged your hand and turned you around, eyes widening once he saw tears streaming down your face.

he attempted to console you, wanting to pull you into a hug, but drawing back when you lightly pushed him off you.

“y/n- what’s wrong?”

“i can’t sei, i’m scared. scared you’ll grow bored of me. i don’t know if i’m bothering you or not and it kills me to think that you’d spend more time on games than with me. you basically told me i’m a hassle. how the hell else am i supposed to take that?”

your tears wouldn’t stop pouring down no matter how much you tried to calm yourself down, sniffles loud and clear as day.

something unusual happened to nagi as he watched you cry your eyes out. he felt his heart breaking into tiny shards at your state. more so because he knew it was because of him. he didn’t want to be the cause of your pain. he didn’t want to see you like this, experiencing such distress.

he wrapped his arms around you, one hand shielding your head and pulling your face into his bare chest, where you sobbed some more, letting up all the feelings built up from days prior.

“you’re not a hassle y/n. i said that out of turn. you could never be a hassle to me. while you were gone, i couldn’t even play my games properly. i just slept and trained because i missed you so much and didn’t know what to do without you. i know i’m lazy, and i know i don’t make you feel loved enough, but i do. i love you. i’ll do better for you and i don’t wanna be the reason why you’re upset. so please stop crying, wanna see your pretty face smile for me.”

you smiled into his chest, your sniffles beginning to subside and still.

“thank you sei, i really needed to hear that.”

“i would say it over 100 times for you. it might take a while but i won’t get bored of it. not when it comes to you.”

you wrapped your arms around his broad figure, squeezing tightly.

“will you be my girlfriend again y/n? no one else can reach your level. not now, not ever.”

you let go of his body, instead placing your palms on the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

“of course i will seishiro.”

“good, because i wanna cuddle with my girlfriend.”

☆彡 BAROU SHOUEI

it had been 2 months since you broke up with barou and he was miserable. who would’ve thought you leaving would cause such a rift in his life? his performance in matches were shit, he became pissed off at people more easily, and he was benched more often.

due to him not having someone to talk to, he essentially had no form of a wind down from football, something you were able to give him while you were together. something he had come to miss, and wished he appreciated more.

the lack of your items in the house made your departure all the more apparent. your decorations and items around the apartment were what made the house a home.

and you as a person? what wasn’t to like about you? you were a very levelheaded but gentle person, a great contrast to his fiery, angry personality. you catered to his every need, be it mentally, physically or sexually. your voice was what carried him through his day, soothing him to the bone, calming him down when he needed it. the more he thought about it, the more he realised he made a grave mistake pushing you out. the more he realised just how much he was attached to you, he was just unwilling to acknowledge it.

barou was no pussy, and he had enough of living like this, living without you, so he decided to get you back (and not fuck up this time).

he knew you were most likely staying at your childhood friend, chigiri’s house. he knew him very well, having done the blue lock training program with him years back, and played against him in several matches. he knew where he lived, having gone to parties held at his house through mutual connections.

and so, after practice, he grabbed his car keys and set off. he weren’t good with words, so his mind stayed scrambled as he thought of all the things he could say to you. while he couldn’t think of specific sentences to say to you, his goal remained the same.

after some time passed, he pulled up to chigiri’s house, your car the only one on the drive, which meant that only you were home. he switched off the ignition, stepped out of the car and walked up to the door.

with slight hesitancy, he lifted his fist to the door and knocked three times. he listened for any shuffling inside, but heard none. after a moment he turned away to leave, thinking you might’ve not been there after all. it’s possible you might’ve been out with chigiri in his car. yeah, that was probably it.

however.

“what do you want barou? i thought i was ‘making your life too hard’?”

shit, you were home. your voice was muffled, due to you speaking through the door, having seen his figure through the peephole.

“i- i didn’t mean that. not that way.”

you opened the door, allowing him to see a crack of your figure, donned in shorts and a tank top.

“then how did you mean it barou? don’t take me for an idiot, because i’m not one. no one says anything of that depth if you didn’t feel that exact way before. so before you let anymore bullshit spout from your mouth tell me exactly how you meant it, in what context. because i’m tired barou, tired of being in a relationship where i feel like i’m treading on glass around you because you don’t wanna do certain things. it’s not a nice feeling. you may not feel that way, but i do. i’ve felt that way during our whole relationship, but i feel like i can’t tell you shit so i’ve kept. it. in.”

wow. he really didn’t see things from your perspective. once he heard it from you, he realised just how much of a dickhead he sounded like. he couldn’t say anything, how could he explain himself after that?

he didn’t.

and after hearing no refutation or explanation from barou, you simply let go of any hopes of talking this out with him.

“shouei,” his ears perked at you using his first name. “i think…you should go. i don’t wanna have any hard feelings between us but i don’t think we’re right for each other. please understand and respect tha-”

you stopped short of ending your sentence upon seeing barou turn and leave before he could hear you out, getting back into his car and preparing to drive off.

you sighed, shaking your head and closing the door, effectually ending your relationship for good.

he got what he wanted, right?

☆彡 ITOSHI RIN

you woke up in the morning, immediately panning your vision to your left to see if rin had returned to bed. the bed imprints remained the exact same as you had left it when you fell asleep, which lead you to wonder if rin had even returned home.

you slid out of bed, your feet touching the cold wood floor, you trudged your way through the apartment, looking for signs of life, your shoulders falling in disappointment when you realised rin was nowhere to be seen. it was debatable if he even came home or not, the answer you would probably never find out.

you warred with yourself in your head about what to do. considering rin didn’t even try to talk to you to rectify the situation showed he didn’t really give a shit. if he didn’t come home, then he probably didn’t even know if you came home or not, which meant he isn’t worrying about you or where you were.

you weren’t a dickhead, and waiting for someone who evidently didn’t want you seemed like such a desperate action, which you weren’t trying to act like.

and so, calling a few willing friends, shedding some tears here and there, and half a day of hard work, you had effectively moved out of your shared apartment with rin, leaving a half completed home. he didn’t return home the whole day, not that you gave a shit anymore.

imagine rin’s surprise when he returned home from his team practice, expecting to see you moping around somewhere, but instead, nowhere to be found. as a matter of fact, where the fuck was your stuff? the apartment looked very much empty right now. he took at least 15 minutes to look around, analysing his surroundings, the same he would do during a game. any potted plants you bought for the house, specifically for the living room disappeared. your stupid candle ornaments that somehow made the house look better? not a ghost of a trace left behind. your clothes? gone. even from the laundry basket, only his clothes remained.

your products, your favourite sleeping pillow, even your toothbrush was gone. you left no stone unturned, questionable if you ever lived there in the first place.

still slightly puzzled but somewhat aware of the answer behind all of this, he pulled out his phone, clicking immediately on the message app. he sent you a message, heart dropping and suspicions confirmed when his message was not only green, but displayed a ‘not delivered’ message underneath. you had blocked him, and moved out without his knowledge.

he knew you were pissed off from what had transpired, but he didn’t know you would take action this soon. you didn’t even wait to talk to him for the love of god. this wasn’t supposed to happen this way, he was only angry at you because he felt threatened in the moment. but, recalling just exactly what he said to you, maybe it was warranted.

maybe it was for the best. you barely had enough time together as it is, due to unmatchable schedules and rin always being abroad. he was never able to give you enough love. funny, considering he didn’t even make sure to tell you. looking back on it, he realised he was kind of a dickhead to you.

so, he let go of the relationship for good.

—

four months had passed. he’d gotten bigger as a football player after his team winning a multitude of matches had lead to him becoming their star player, constantly getting man of the match achievements. this lead to his popularity increasing, getting more fans and fame as a result. he had been abroad this whole time, focusing on his career.

oh. but don’t think he had escaped you.

he couldn’t get his mind off you.

you tormented his thoughts daily and nightly, his yearning for you and hate for himself flourishing simultaneously as he repeatedly recalled how he fucked up. he wished he could go back to that night, heeding your warnings.

either way, that couldn’t be achieved now, for he didn’t know your whereabouts. he hadn’t known since that night on the pitch.

he tried to move on the best he could, returning back to japan to visit his parents whilst he had time off from football.

it just so happened one day while he popped out to a grocery store to get ingredients for his mother, the he saw the back of a familiar head, whisking away to the next aisle over. piquing his curiosity, he immediately paced to see if it way really who he thought it was.

and yes, the face he thought he’d never see again, the very same person who had been frequenting his mind,

you.

“y/n!” you froze, not expecting to find him here of all places. last time you had seen on tv, he was abroad. he wasn’t supposed to be here. deciding you had to face the music at some point, you turned around, watching as his demeanour melted, at really seeing you again after so long.

“rin…hi.”

all was silent for a moment, not knowing what to say to each other. what does one say in situations such as these? not to worry, rin answered for you.

“how…how’ve you been?”

“good thanks, how about you?”

“i’ve been— alright.”

silence settled again. rin wanted to voice so many things to you, starting with how he wanted you to know how he’s changed. how he’s calmed down in terms of training. how he’d make more time. he wanted you to know he’d do things differently, if you ever took him back. he wanted you to come home… but he didn’t know where to start.

he would have to at some point however, for you wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

“well…um, it was good seeing yo-”

“wait!” he interjected, panic settling in that you would disappear and he would never get the chance again. “i— i just wanted to tell you tha—”

“y/n baby, i’ve got the washing powder.”

baby? what the fuck?

he looked just past you to see a guy walking up to you, taking the basket from your hands with a peck to your cheek. you smiled at the action, lacing your hand in his hair as he took place behind you. he then noticed rin, standing there with visible shock on his face, confused on what he missed while he was gone.

“who’s this?”

“oh, just an old friend.” a bold faced lie. anyone with two functioning brain cells could feel the history between you two. “i’ve got my stuff so let’s go to the queue. nice seeing you rin…have a good day.” you walked off with your supposed new boyfriend. a boyfriend that wasn’t him.

have a good day? after you just shattered his heart like that?

his throat turned dry, awareness sinking in.

he wanted you to come home…but he was too late.

baby you sold me a dream pt.3

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 1 year ago

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Do you love my daddy?

Vladimir Makarov x babysitter fem Reader

Let's imagine Makarov has a daughter, he's a single dad and you have been his daughter's babysitter since... The first time he saw you holding her in your arms, what if during these years you not only developed feelings for the little girl but also for her father too? What if one day your secret is discovered by her and runs to spill the Beans?

Warning: I know it says 'x Fem reader ' but I think you can read it as a Neutral, there's no physical description. Spelling and grammatical errors, as always I think is not probably the best story but I haven't posted anything in a while because I've been feeling a little depressed and this one was waiting on the list. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

From the moment the little baby was in Vladimir's arms, he knew he needed someone capable enough to protect his daughter, someone strong but also with a warm and noble heart to love the girl as if was hers.

He spent long days and nights trying to find someone with those characteristics and spent long sleepless nights with the newborn baby, it was a hard mission, until he found you, totally unexpected, he was driving while his precious baby girl was in the backseat, he was so focused on the baby who was crying disconsolately that he almost hit you with the car, you reacted quickly and yelled at him.

«HEY! Focus on the road asshole!»

That's when he saw you, he was ready to put a bullet in your precious skull until he remembered there was a baby with him who suddenly stopped making noise. The baby was still crying but not breathing. He stopped the car right there and ran to open the door, you thought he was going to give you problems but he totally ignored you, that's when you saw him carrying a baby in his arms, something was wrong, you saw the baby's red face changing to purple. It wasn't breathing, a sobbing spasm.

«Baby, come on, breath, what's going on!?»

Without thinking too much you walked to him and took the baby from his arms.

He didn't try to protest, you put the baby in the next seat, you started to talk to the baby with a soft voice, in calm, while she was laying on one side, you were giving her small pats and rubbing her back with your free hand.

- It's okay baby, breath, I need you to take air, come on honey, you can do it, you're scaring your daddy.

The baby was getting more purple so you increased the intensity of the pats In her back and held her, positioning her tiny body over your forearm with her head resting over your palm.

Vladimir didn't know the fear until that moment, he was afraid, pleading you could do something when finally, his daughter made a noise again, a strong and loud whimper. You smiled, clearly you were as worried as him.

- Oh yes! That's it baby, good girl, you made it!

There was something about the way you held his baby that made Makarov realize you were the answer to his pleas. He was lost in thoughts until you brought him back.

- Hey, here you have. She will probably fall asleep... These tantrums leave the babies exhausted.

- Ah, yes, thanks.

- Sorry, I suppose that's why you weren't paying attention to the road, I'm really sorry.

- It's okay, you saved her... How did you do that?

- I'm a nurse, your baby was having sobbing spasms, we have to learn those things if we don't want to lose them during their tantrums.

Like fallen from the sky, that's how everything started, he almost begged you to work for him, he didn't care if you didn't know about personal defense or combat, he paid you the most expensive course. And the payment was three times more than what you asked him for.

Time flies, and the girl and you create a strong bond, she's such a precious pearl, you adore her as much as Vladimir, the man can't say no to his little princess, you go wherever they go, you cook, play, study and do everything with the girl, you feel like her mom, it's no longer a job, she became part of your life, she lives in your heart just like her dad, who's a gentleman, he treats you with kindness and tender all the time, you try to convince yourself it's only because you're raising his kid, but even those thoughts can't help you to not develop that silly little crush on him.

And He makes it more difficult, he sends flowers every morning for you and his daughter when he's not at home, he brings presents for both when he's back, joins you In the kitchen to help with the dinner or wakes up before you to make the breakfast, takes you and his daughter to the park so the three of you can have a picnic afternoon, joins to the playing time and reads fairytale stories for the girl every night. Out of home Vladimir Makarov is fierce, brave, strong and chaotic but when he's with his daughter and you, he's the opposite, you love both sides of the coin.

It's late at night, you're sure the little girl is deeply asleep so you decide to call your best friend, and as always you're talking about your crush.

«Y/n, I swear that man considerate you as his wife at this point, the kid is almost 6 years old, you're with them since she was a newborn...»

You feel your cheeks getting red, maybe your friend is right but... you can't create fake hopes In your head, this job is the best thing that ever happened to you and you don't want to lose it for those silly feelings.

- I don't think so, he's merely a gentleman. But oh god! It is hard to not love him! He's everything I always wanted, and the little girl... I seriously consider her as my own daughter! God... I'm so in love with Vlad...

Suddenly a gasp interrupts your words, you turn around and see a small figure on the doorframe, your kid has been listening every word you say.

Both are speechless.

«Y/n? Are you still there?»

-I'll call you later, bye.

You put the phone on the bed and walked quickly to the girl who is still surprised about what she heard a few seconds ago. You try to act silly, pretending nothing of that happened and kneel down in front of her.

- Honey, what are you doing awake? It's almost midnight.

- I had a nightmare... Y/n... Is it true? Do you love my daddy?

You shiver, unsure of what to say because there's no sign on the girl's face that can tell you what she's thinking or feeling.

- I... Ummm...

There's an evil smirk on her chubby face and a bright in her eyes that makes you feel afraid and at the same time happy.

- Can we keep it as a secret? I don't want your father to feel uncomfortable with this...

- SO... YOU, INDEED, LOVE MY DADDY!!!!

The princess started to run and jump around the room while you hid your face with your hands, you felt embarrassed and nervous, excited but afraid.

After a few minutes convincing her to keep the secret and taking her back to her bed, Makarov's daughter finally went back to sleep.

The next morning the smell of butter, pancakes and honey woke you up, you looked at the clock on the wall, 9 o'clock, you put on a hoodie and went downstairs as fast as you could to the kitchen and saw Makarov and his daughter cooking pancakes.

There's some fruit and juice on the kitchen's table, also a small bouquet of flowers decorating the table. You're observing everything cautiously when Makarov's voice brings you back to earth.

- Morning, sleepy beauty... Did you sleep well?

He smiled and wink at you, you once again felt your cheeks getting red.

- I'm so sorry, we had a tremendous night full of dreams and nightmares. Sorry, I can finish the pancakes if you wish.

- No, it's ok love, come on, take a seat, do you want some coffee or tea?

- Ahhhh...

Your little kid interrupted you.

- Y/n, look! Daddy made heart shaped pancakes!!!! He loves us a lot!

She smiled mischievously at you, you gasped and pretended to be surprised.

- Oh it's beautiful!! he certainly loves you a lot my sweet girl!

You kissed her forehead and went to the table, the girl followed you and took her seat in the middle, Makarov joined both of you minutes later with two cups of coffee and a glass of chocolate milk for his daughter.

The girl was strangely happy, more than usual, observing you and her father's interaction, Makarov is also acting more sweet and kind than normal, he's talking a little about how his week went, he's more focused on you, there's a different vibe that you can't describe in words, you only know it feels good, so good.

There were a lot of laughs, jokes, compliments and delicious food but by the end of the breakfast Makarov asks his daughter to go upstairs because he needs to talk with you in private.

She doesn't look at you, nods in silence and disappears. Automatically you started to take the dirty dishes and glasses to wash them when Vladimir caught your hand and softly directed you to go back to your chair.

Why do you feel so guilty? Are you in trouble? What kind of game is this? He treats you nicely and then needs to talk to you in private? What is going to happen?

All those questions were running through your mind when he, squeezed your hand, you looked at him and... He was smiling, there's a different vibe in the way he's looking at you, in the way he's holding your hand.

- Are you ok, love?

- Yeah, just... I feel like I'm in trouble. Am I?

He laughed softly and neglected with the head.

- No, you're not, you're fine y/n, but... There's something I recently found out, I was expecting you could help me to confirm this information...

You felt like you were going to pass out at any moment, you weren't sure about what was happening.

- I found out, this morning that... You've been hiding something from me.

- Wh...

- My daughter, has informed me about certain feelings you have for this little family and about your fears about me knowing about this.... And I think it's time to...

You didn't let the poor man finish to talk, you started to explain yourself, you let it all out.

- V... Vladimir I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, I thought she was already asleep but she woke up and listened to me on a phone call and... Please don't fire me, you and that precious girl are too important to me, I love you guys, so much and I wouldn't know what to do without you at this point of my life...

You didn't know when you stopped talking, you only felt your mouth crushing against another one, a warm kiss intoxicating your system, while a hand is rubbing your back slowly, without thinking too much about what was happening you let your hands go and take place to the neck and shoulder of Vladimir, the way he kissed you was electric, you felt your body on fire, fireworks in your chest and a strong desire to not end the kiss.

After a while, both separate to take air, you were already missing his lips on yours, he smiled and sighed with some relief.

- I wanted to do that so bad. Y/n, for the moment we met, I started to think about you all the time, you and my daughter became the main reason to stay at home as much as possible, when I'm working I just want to finish and drive home, because I know my daughter is here, because I want to hear her laugh and see your smile, for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm on my knees ready to please someone else's desires.

You feel tears filling your eyes and a big smile on your face, you don't have words to express the happiness you're experimenting but luckily Makarov's daughter appears again yelling and running everywhere.

- Daddy loves Y/n, Y/n loves him too! Daddy and y/n are in love, daddy and y/n are in love!

Makarov catches her and hugs her, then he approaches you and kisses your forehead, you return the kiss but on his cheek and kiss his kid's forehead.

More than obvious that all that time she wasn't upstairs, she was all that time listening to her two favorite persons confessing their feelings for each other.

#x yn #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #x reader #fanfiction #long reads #reader insert #fem reader #vladimir makarov #vladimir makarov x reader #cod makarov #call of duty makarov #reader imagine #my imagination

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everlastingdream · 8 months ago

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Part 1 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

When Alex managed to get Kara to talk, J'onn and Winn was already at the DEO.

Honestly speaking, Kara didn't know herself why everything Lena said upset her so much.

It's not like she was entirely wrong. Lena Luthor was the only sister of Lex Luthor, daughter of Lilian Luthor, so basically it wasn't much of a stretch to assume that she was like them.

"Lena Luthor, 22 years old, claimed to be abducted a month ago after car accident on her way to the National City, reported by her friend and colleague Samantha Arias. She was supposed to move here to take over Luthor Corp after Lex was sentenced to the prison. Right now that is all we know". Alex reported to J'onn while Winn tinkered with something on the table near.

"And no one knows where she is after a month?" Kara asked incredulously.

"No one searched", Alex's grim answer made Winn look up from his ghost vacuum. "Police didn't find anything, and well, they wasn't the most enthusiastic about it. And we were swamped with work even without someone who is not even on the DEO's territory".

"Well, we have time now", Winn shrugged. "We need to find... the body. She has a friend who's worried about her. Friend with a child actually. Lena Luthor seemed close to their family".

They all fell silent. Lena being a ghost didn't gave any positivety to their search.

"Find everything about her", J'onn said to Winn, lowering his heavy hand on Kara's shoulder. It was grounding to feel the pressure unlike usual. "I'll talk with officers and then we'll go to the site".

Kara was stuck between her feelings. She didn't know Lena for long so it was strange to worry for her like that and there was their families' history also, but still. Kara was the only one to see her, the only one to hear someone who was basically kidnapped after a car crush. It was complicated.

"I'll go home for a bit. Maybe... she's there".

/ / / / / / / /

"Lena?"

Kara tentatively asked, walking around her apartment. It was quiet and empty as it was supposed to be.

"We are going to find you", she still said to nothing. "I don't know what kind of person you were but I still want to help you. No one deserves to be abandoned."

Her living room was still empty but somehow it wasn't as cold as before.

"I'll find you. And then we'll talk, okay? Just wait for me".

Flying back to the DEO, Kara didn't know that transperent eyes followed her fluttering cape.

/ / / / / / / /

They left Winn in the building as the support, while Alex was contacting with the police, and went to the place, where Lena was last seen. Of course, no one had much hope, still accident happened the whole month ago, but J'onn decided that with their heightened senses they can still get some clues.

So Kara was looking with her x-ray vision for the parts someone could miss. When she turned it off she suddenly noticed someone standing at the side of the road.

"Lena!" Kara rushed to her, despite J'onn's raised brow.

Lena was standing near some random bush, lost in thoughts.

"You are here! I was afraid I won't see you anymore..." it was a bit embarrassing to admit, but no less true. It was a strange attachment, but Kara blame it on the responsibility she has as Supergirl and as the only person able to see Lena.

"You said you won't give up on me", Lena smiled, but it still lacked the gentle wonder her smiles had the day prior. "I wanted to honor your determination".

"Do you remember something?"

"Just blurred moments. It was a day time, I was driving. Why I was driving myself?" Lena muttered, her gaze unfocused. "Then I was afraid. Something happened, it seems. Then I was in pain. Someone talked to me. Then nothing".

"It's already a lot", Kara almost tried to took Lena's hand, before remembering that it won't work. So she was left awkwardly wringing her hands. "We'll look around some more".

"It'so strange to hear you talking to yourself", Winn intervened in her ear. Kara ignored him.

She left Lena there to tell J'onn (and Winn) what happened, but never once Supergirl took her eyes off her for longer than 20 seconds.

J'onn quietly said that it was fortunate that Lena returned. Kara flashed him a grateful smile.

"Miss Luthor, do you remember if you had any devices on you?" J'onn asked in the general direction of Lena, after the hour of examining every piece of junk they could find in the two mile radius.

Lena's image flickered a little while she was thinking. Kara suddenly thought that if Lena was used to flying, she would've wobbled in the air.

"Well, I think I talked with someone while driving, so the phone, I guess? Also... Something small..." she flickered some more, each time somehow more agitated than last.

"I pressed something while everything was hurting. Something no one would've noticed, something I could press while losing cosciousness..." Lena's form suddenly stabilized. She looked at them with realization.

"I had emergency button in my sleeve".

#supergirl #supercorp #do you feel that it's rushed? it is #i still can't carry a long story #we are ready to welcome Sam into the story #winn will get to play ghost hunter #i promise

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augustvandyne · 1 year ago

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Angela Lopez x reader

Angela is jelly because a rookie is hitting on reader rookie doesn’t realize they’re married until they have a group outing

i don’t like how this came out, so i apologize if you don’t enjoy it. also, picture whoever you want as the rookie!

jealousy

She heard your laugh from across the station.

The two of you had met when you were a rookie, and she was your training officer. But now you’d became a T.O., while Angela moved up to a detective.

It annoyed her because sometimes she’d only see you an hour a day until the two of you rejoined at home.

It also annoyed her, because it seemed that your new rookie couldn’t keep his hands or eyes to himself. He also had a way with words, as in, he was a flirt.

He’d only been there a few days, as the new group of rookies just came in, so you couldn’t blame him for not knowing you were married.

You didn’t even really know he was flirting with you, you just thought he was being nice. The two of you had just found a mutual hobby when you guys pulled the shop in.

You also don’t even notice that Angela is watching or even worried about the flirting.

He touches your arm, and Angela has to force herself to keep calm and collected at her desk.

It was nearing the end of the shift, about twenty minutes left or so, and Angela was tempted to just leave early with you.

But that idea flew out the door when she remembered everyone was going out tonight to celebrate Nolan’s birthday.

She clenches her jaw and tries to keep her focus on the computer, but your voice keeps making its way to her ears, and it’s distracting her.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Nyla looks up with a bored expression on her face.

Angela bites her lip and looks to the side, debating on whether or not to tell Nyla.

“That rookie is flirting with Y/n,” Angela slightly squints.

“Well, she is gorgeous,” Nyla tilts her head to look at the two of you. “But, you know, maybe that’s his type.”

“Well my wife is not up for grabs,” Angela goes to stand, but Nyla keeps her from standing and tells her to sit back down.

“You’ll just make matters worse if you say something in the middle of the station,” Nyla shook her head. “Shifts almost over, they can’t possibly talk that long.”

Oh, but you do. Angela changes and comes out to see the two of you still going on and on about only god knows what.

You don’t even notice her standing there, really, until she says she’ll meet you in the car.

She hears you tell him it was nice talking and then, of course, you being the person you are, you invite him along to the celebration.

He accepts, and lets you know he’ll be by soon.

You change quickly and then head out to the car where Angela is impatiently waiting for you.

She drives in silence for a few minutes until you say, “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Angela shrugs it off.

“If you’re tired, we don’t have to go tonight,” You say.

“No, it’s Nolan. We’re going,” Angela keeps her eyes on the road, and you get the feeling something is wrong.

“Okay,” You push it to the back of your mind as Angela pulls the car into the bar parking lot.

As soon as you get out of the car, Angela is at your side, her arm wrapped around your waist.

Mostly everyone, minus the rookie is there, so it’s hard to miss them in the back corner.

Angela and you stand as you order your drinks, and that’s the exact time the rookie makes his entrance.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

He tilts his head closer to you so you can hear him, and that’s what has Angela losing it.

“Listen here, asshat,” Angela steps in front of you.

“Ange—“

“She’s married,” Angela blinks. “To me. So if you want to go after a married woman, go after someone else’s wife. She is mine, and you will stop touching, looking, and flirting with her. Have a nice night.”

Angela turns around to see you with your mouth open.

“What?” Angela has a hand on her hip, and you think it’s the hottest thing ever. “He needs to know what’s mine.”

You laugh and kiss her back when she smashes her lips into yours.

“That was hot,” Your grab her hand. “Now, let’s go celebrate Nolan’s birthday.”

#the rookie x reader #please ask me about them #the rookie #send anons #send asks #i love her #angela lopez x reader #angela lopez #angela lopez is mommy tbh

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clubdionysus · 1 year ago

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[BAD DECISION #53] Imposter Syndrome

warnings: namseok aka the starluvrs biggest supporters!!, gallery date <33 starluvrs playing pretend <333 oh they luv each other soooo much :( disgusting! so lovely!

notes: remains to be one of my fave bd doodles hehe. the is the last chapter tonight bc it leads us into a lil treat tomorrow <3

wc: 5.7K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

So used to chasing stars, Jeongguk had almost forgotten how much he enjoys chasing sunsets, too. Sky clear, save for a few wispy, high-altitude clouds, it fades through blue, clementine, pink - until, eventually, it's overwhelmingly mauve. Has him thinking about that time on your apartment roof.

A few canvases and far too much paint, he remembers it fondly - and knows that you were right to implement that five-date rule, no matter how spectacularly you both failed at it.

"This doesn't feel like home," you say with a coy smile, Jeongguk taking a wrong turn as you enter your city.

Leaving it up to him to implement the bird, you're sort of surprised that he hasn't mentioned it for the entire drive. Hasn't even been a little provocative in his jokes or the placement of his hand on your thigh. Has behaved himself well.

It's very confusing, by all measures.

"No?" He replies, as if he isn't responsible for it.

"No," you insist. "You never go this way."

You'll still be able to make it home, it just adds a fair distance onto the journey. You live across the other side of the city; Jeongguk centrally. You haven't been out this way since Taehyung's last showing at the Ryu, but you know the area well. All the galleries worth noting in the city are in this district.

"First time for everything," Jeongguk says softly, as if he isn't taking another left turn further away from the roads that would lead you home. It dawns on you that perhaps he has a place in mind to complete the bird - but you know your surroundings. Know that there's one place this particular road leads. Can see it in the distance.

Brutalist in its architecture, the cluster of concrete ahead of you looks out of place and yet totally at home against the striking mountains that shadow your city. Coming into summer, their green leaves obscure the rocky terrain that presents itself during the colder months.

You always thought there was beauty to be found in the brutal. Have had endless discussions about the building and how it's the epitome of what a gallery should be: imposing, unwelcome, and impossible to ignore, no matter how much you dislike it.

The largest gallery in the entire city, it's home to a rotation of exhibitions, hosting both heritage and contemporary showings for local artists, as well as international showcases. That's what really sets it apart. Gets people talking. You've a yearly membership, but haven't been in months. Have been too preoccupied with your own showcase organisations for Taehyung, or busy tending to your origami children with their father.

"Gguk," you gingerly question, glancing across to find a charming smile settling on his pretty lips. "What are we doing here?"

Lights spill from the large glass windows of the entrance lobby, and the parking lot is packed. Unusual for this time of night, for it closes by dusk most evenings. Only ever stays open late for special events - of which working in an art cafe has never provided you with the privilege of attending.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Jeongguk is a terrible, gorgeous liar. "Dunno. Just thought I'd see if anything was going on."

And as you spy an incredibly animated Hoseok enthusing with Namjoon out by the front of the building, dressed far more formally than either you or Jeongguk currently are, you know for certain Jeon Jeongguk will never stop with the white lies - but you also realise that perhaps it's okay to let them slide.

Pulling into a parking spot, Jeongguk's grin persists.

"Your nose'll grow," you tell him of his Pinocchio-adjacent tendencies.

Glancing across to you, Jeongguk licks his lips. "Don't act like you'd hate it if I had a bigger nose."

The way your lips part satisfies Jeongguk like nothing else. Knows he's got you thinking about his nose in a capacity that very few people will ever get to think about his nose in. Knows you're reliving the way it feels. Doesn't help with the way his cock is ready and willing to step into action at any given moment. Has been dying for the entire day.

"I'm not dressed for a gallery," you whisper, looking over to the building, ignoring his suggestive comment.

"I've got a spare blazer in my boot," Jeongguk says. It's on a hanger with a crisp black shirt, of which he knows he'll quickly change into. "And there's like, three pairs of your shoes in there, too. I'm certain there's some heels."

An oversized blazer with heels won't look terrible with the jeans you're wearing, but you're sure it will be far more casual than the rest of the punters.

Twisting his key in his ignition, Jeongguk tells you to wait where you are as he heads out to the boot. Returns quickly with the hanger for his clothes and a pair of heels looped over his fingers.

"Here," he says, passing the shoes over to you, then rids himself of his casual wear. Is thankfully parked far enough away from the gallery that he's obscured in the settling dusk of the evening. Strips the white vest that had been clinging to his skin. Tosses that towards you, too, then begins to thread his arms through the black shirt. "For under the blazer."

Credit where it's due, he really does think about the fine details. Staying in his passenger seat, you're a little restricted, but manage to get out of your sweater and pull the fabric of his vest over your body.

Tight to your chest, it definitely wasn't made for your body, but it's warm, and it smells like him, so you think that perhaps it was. You quickly switch shoes. Are pleasantly surprised, because you've been looking for these heels for weeks, unaware they were hanging out in his boot. Left them there after Pohang. Was worried you'd left them at the vacation house.

Blazer on, as you step out of the car to smooth yourself out, you're pleasantly surprised by the switch-up of your outfit. Make a note to seriously steal his clothes in the future, instead of settling for shirts.

A whistle pierces from Jeongguk's pouty lips. "Damn."

Walking around the car to meet you, he just can't help himself. Hooks an arm around your waist. Pulls you closer to his body, and steals a kiss. Mumbles into your lips. "I changed my mind. Back in the car. You're too hot. Gotta fuck you."

"Mmm, your self-control... so sexy," you joke, so amused with how weak he gets whenever he's a little horny.

"You forget I've seen you naked," he husks. "Self-control around you is impossible."

Gently pushing him away, you glance across to Namjoon and Hoseok, who are pretending like they aren't talking about you, when you know for a fact they most definitely are.

"We've got eyes on us," you say in regard to your friends.

"Good," Jeongguk huffs as you clasp his hand, pulling him towards the gallery. "Maybe they could learn a thing or two."

"Such as?"

"How to stop beating around the bush and actually date."

"Gguk," you can't help but laugh at his sheer audacity. "Took you, like, a year, a million birds, and what? Like, four hundred non-date-dates for you to actually ask me out. And I had to tell you to do it."

"Still did it."

"You're just as bad as they are," you insist. "Worse, even."

"How?!" He protests, quite positively affronted by such a claim.

"You were shagging me for months-"

"That's neither here nor there."

"-and still didn't ask me out."

"You didn't want to be asked out!" He defends himself with a mischievous grin.

"Doesn't matter!" You laugh. Neither of you are taking this conversation seriously - which is just as well, because you're coming within earshot of your friends.

"What doesn't matter?" Hoseok asks, a brow raised. Dressed in all black, there's a sleekness to his understated formalwear. It's classy. Sophisticated. The slicked-back hair, and menacing grin on his lips, too.

"How I managed to wrangle entry for tonight's exhibition," Jeongguk replies, finally giving you a little context on why you're here, 'cause he knows it'll shut you up.

By the entryway behind Namjoon and Hoseok are vertical banners advertising the seasonal exhibition that launches tomorrow morning. Brilliant and metallic as they flow in the light breeze, the signage reads: Golden Rage - in association with Amsterdam Museum.

Anyone with a pinprick of art history proficiency will understand the reference to the Dutch Golden Age, a term now abandoned by Amsterdam Museum to be more reflective of the darkness surrounding the seventeenth century. Still, the artwork produced at the time tells stories of everyday people often forgotten about in time. Moments of history were captured in a way that reminds you of your photo booth pictures with Jeongguk. Names and identities lost, but evidence of love and desire remaining for centuries.

Namjoon just raises a brow. Smiles. "You didn't wrangle fuck all. You're committing fraud."

"And you're assisting," Jeongguk playfully banters, as Namjoon unclips his PRESS badge from his breast pocket and passes it over to Jeongguk. Hoseok does the same, but his badge simply reads GUEST .

"If anyone asks, you're giving it five stars," Namjoon tells Jeongguk. Had been invited to the exhibition as a member of the press. Mentioned it to Jeongguk in passing, and had subsequently been roped into an elaborate scheme involving identity theft and the need to ask Hoseok to come along, just so he could get a guest pass, too. Swings and roundabouts, Namjoon thought when he agreed to it all. "Don't get me fired."

Jeongguk tells Namjoon to fuck off, but also promises he won't. You bid your friends farewell, smiles all round, and slip into the ease of what it's like to have Jeongguk's hand on the small of your back. Though his blazer obscures the touch and removes some of the intimacy, it doesn't make it any less endearing.

"Head up," he whispers as you stroll past the reception area. "Pretend like we're supposed to be here."

You've badges that prove credentials, and very few people (if any) would even think to check them. You're fine, and you know it, but there is a little adrenaline that comes with sneaking in somewhere you know you shouldn't. It excites you. Makes you feel all giddy, as if you're getting a glimpse into the life you want to build for yourself.

The gallery's white walls and marble flooring are clean and sleek in a way that feels like a far cry from the cafe you work in. The Ryu offers a nice middle ground between the two, admittedly - but you've spent so many hours there now that it doesn't have the same overwhelming essence that the gallery you're in now has.

In fact, you feel somewhat at home at The Ryu.

Jina's assistant, who's filling in for her during her maternity leave, is perfectly nice, but also far too keen on taking the credit for the showcases you plan and prepare for Taehyung. There's another one in the works, two weeks from now.

It's a little different from all the others. There's a lot riding on it. In fact, it's probably the most important and ambitious exhibition you've helped organise so far. Whenever Jeongguk asks about it, you downplay it - but as you glance across to him, and slip your hand into his, you know you need to be honest with him about it all.

And you will be.

Just not tonight.

The world can wait a little longer. You wanna stay in this dream with him while you still can.

"We are supposed to be here," you sweetly hum, playing into the role you're taking on for the night. "What's our story?"

Jeongguk chirps a slight hum of confusion, his warm grip on your hand tightening, then contemplates your question momentarily. Smiles, when he thinks of that first trip to Busan, and how you had decided to be versions of yourselves that don't exist. Realises that you're wanting to do it again; to make some pretend life for yourselves.

It's not 'cause this life isn't satisfying. Quite the opposite.

It's just 'cause you like playing make-believe with the man who makes you feel unreal in the most intrinsic of ways.

He likes it when you're playful. Likes what it leads to, yes, but likes the ridiculousness that comes before it. Safe and secure, he's allowed to be a fool with you without feeling foolish.

Rounding the corner, into the hustle and the bustle of the gallery lobby, he quietly weaves a tall tale of your lives.

"I'm disgraced art critic," he tells you with conviction, and is pleased when you gasp.

The chatter and laughter of galleryists obscures your conversation. Your lowered tones can't be heard above the pianist playing in the corner of the ample open space, champagne flowing and lofty laughter echoing from wall to wall.

You've privacy in the most public of spaces; a shared intimacy never to be shared with anyone else.

"Disgraced?!" You whisper with surprise, playing into his dramatics.

"Disgraced," he confirms with a cloying smile and a thump in his chest. There's an effortlessness to your back and forth; an understanding that you can indulge in such fivotly without fear.

And so you implore a little further. "What did you do?"

"It's not what I did." Jeongguk leans a little closer to your ear, so he can really whisper, "It's what you did."

You gasp, pulling away from him to turn your head in surprise. "Me?!"

"You," he nods, looking down towards with such affection you forget there are other people in the room. Don't care for the art, nor for the networking. You care for him, and little else. The feeling is mutual. "You're an old money heiress. The bird around your neck? Tiffany. The blazer? Gucci."

You're pretty sure it's Uniqlo.

Still, he continues with his lies of such grandeur that anyone would be enthralled to hear him speak. There's a magic to Jeongguk's mayhem, a sparkle in his eyes whenever he indulges in these little fallacies with you.

He's cosmic in your company.

"You were a muse," he tells you. He thinks it should be true. Thinks artists would be mad to look at you and not paint a masterpiece. "To some of the finest artists of our time. So many of the greats wanted to paint you - and so many did."

There's lore to this little life Jeongguk is making up for you. In his head, you're way back in the Golden Age. The 1600's. Europe, maybe. He's not sure. Has let the banners advertising the exhibition inform his delusions.

You're imagining the 1920s. Opulence and indulgence at the very heart of it all. He'd mentioned Gucci after all - but your art history is far better than your fashion history. You're thinking a good forty-odd years ahead of the first clothing pieces made by the designer brand.

Accuracy isn't important here, though. You're colouring outside the lines, and are damn well having fun doing so.

"So what did I do to disgrace you?"

"Well, I became infatuated," he states all rather plainly, with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

"Dangerous."

"You were too gorgeous," He says, then presses a kiss to your hair. Reinforces, "Too damn pretty. Out of my league and out of my tax bracket. Wouldn't even look in my direction-"

"But what if I did?" You suggest a revision to his story. "But you never noticed because you were always too concerned with other people also admiring the artworks of me?"

"Well, then it proves I was right to be disgraced for my actions," he assures you.

There are large archways around the lobby, all leading off into different exhibition halls. While you could make your way into one of them, you find yourselves walking around the spacious white lobby, weaving in and out of people.

"Tell me what you did," you giggle, your spare hand coming to clasp his wrist. It's an enthusiastic display of affection; reinforcement for the holding of hands. Jeongguk bites down on his bottom lip. Tilts his head to the side and then shakes it gently to rid himself of his giddiness.

"Collected art," he says, still smiling. "So much. I'd put a gallery of this size to shame - but the issue? They were all artworks of you. Lined the walls. Had run out of space. Different angles, different colours, different styles. Had every version of you imaginable. Bordered on perverse, actually."

You picture it now, Jeongguk standing in a gallery full of your reimagined portraits, bereft at the idea of never being able to have you. Perverse in his eyes, but pure in his heart - and you find the scenario far more erotic than you should. The obsession. The yearning. The desire. The make-believe that you know is rooted in something authentic. There's a reason that painting is still up in his living room. He gets off on it. Not sexually, but mentally. His ego inflates when he looks at it.

Admittedly, he does often end up a little horny, but that's thanks to the memories. Thanks to you.

"All portraits?" You clarify.

He nods, continuing to guide you around the room even when you reach your starting point once more. "All until the one that sent me mad."

"Which was?"

"You had a lover," he tells you - and finds that his stomach does a pathetic little churn at the mere thought of it. "Some asshole, sleazebag in the upper classes. A shitty artist, but one that kept getting shows because his daddy had the money to fund it and no fucks to give about his kid."

"Your contempt sounds personal."

And it is.

In Jeongguk's head, this asshole looks a lot like Seokjin. Prick.

"I'm an art critic, baby," he reasons, as if he's not just called you baby outside of the bedroom. Your heart is in your throat. Might just throw it up onto your sleeve. Give it to him. Let him eat it up. "Just being... critical."

"Okay, so go on," you smile. "Why did you hate his work so much?"

"They were sketches," he eventually says. "Charcoal, or something like that. No larger than A4."

"But?"

"But you were nude in every single one of them."

You gasp. "Jeongguk!"

"Hey!" He defends. "Wasn't me. Blame your asshole lover."

"Was it a scandal?" You pout.

"Not really. The sketches weren't known about really, not amongst the wider audience of art appreciators," Jeongguk reassures you. "But within the circles your shitbag lover frequented?"

"Oh, what an asshole," you say, understanding immediately what he's getting at.

An old-fashioned case of revenge porn. A strange thing to think about.

"God, everyone wanted you."

"And so how did it disgrace you?"

"One was delivered to me," he says. "To the place I housed my collection, attached with the note: Look, because you'll never get to touch. I knew the asshole himself must have sent it. Something came over me. A fit of rage. So, I went to his seedy little studio and burnt the place down."

"Jeongguk!"

"What?!" He protests. "I was defending your honour."

"How?!"

"I was burning all of the nudes!"

"Okay, so fast forward," you laugh. "We're here together - how did we get from nude burning to attending galleries together?"

"Well, it caused quite the commotion within the art circles of the time. Everyone knew it was me, but it couldn't be proven at trial, so I went home a free man - and when I arrived home, who was there waiting for me?"

"Me?"

He nods. "You. You were fascinated by my obsession," he says. "As if you're not a totally reasonable obsession to have. Anyways, during the trial, you'd become just as infatuated with me as I was with you, desperately trying to understand my mind."

"Did I ever?"

"In a way, yes," he smiles. "We both just fell into this state of mutual obsession. You were ostracised for associating with me, and ever since, the rooms we walk into fall silent at the mere sight of us."

"Do we care?"

"Not in the slightest," he says. "In fact, we revel in it."

There's a certain truth to this, no matter how absurd and whimsical the story may be. You do like it when people catch glimpses of you and Jeongguk. A woman across the room has turned her head three times within the first fifteen minutes of you entering the building. Likely just checking Jeongguk out - but how can you blame her? Face like an angel, body built for sin.

Much like Jeongguk's fantasy version of himself, you're convinced that the people who gawp at Jeongguk are perverse. That they want in him in the worst of ways. The best of ways, too - though you suppose they're one and the same.

Picking up gallery guide pamphlets as you walk on by the stand, you know that you probably look out of place.

Admittedly, Jeongguk's clothes look effortless on you, thanks to the proportions. The skin-tight vest and the oversized blazer seem intentional. Tucked into your jeans, the white fabric is thick enough not to go entirely sheer over your bra, but you're a little conscious of it regardless.

Jeongguk's black shirt is formal enough for him to blend right in - but you both know you're a little out of place.

Part of him regrets not planning this aspect of his evening - but he also hadn't planned on visiting his parents when setting the wheels in motion. Had forgotten he needed to swing by with the trophies when he'd arranged all this with Namjoon.

Nodding to a dark entrance towards the rear, Jeongguk says, "The exhibition I wanna show you the most is through there."

Dark and imposing, it's a large curved arch that appears almost black beyond it.

"Y'know, we could have just come on the weekend," you say softly, so beautifully in awe of the effort he's gone to.

Sure, it's just a few pulled strings here and there, but you don't think anyone has ever done something so considerate for you.

Silly as it may be, you feel like an imposter; as if things like this don't happen for people like you. Not that you've done anything not to deserve it, but because you've never really had someone care like this before.

Jeongguk, at the root of your relationship, is your best friend. He knows you like the back of his hand. Every vein. Every freckle. Every scar; what caused them, and what had to be endured in order to heal.

Attentive in his nature, you shouldn't really be surprised by such a gentle act. If you'd have heard a similar story relayed from his time with Jiyeong, and the art gallery was replaced by something she was particularly interested in, you'd have thought: Yes. That sounds like something he'd do.

You've imposter syndrome in the silliest of ways. Feel out of place - but you're surrounded by art. Know you're right at home.

Though if you were to think about it, it's really not the art that makes you feel that way.

Jeon Jeongguk is like the first bite of a strawberry in the chill of winter.

You wait all year for the mart refrigerators to be lined in pristine punnets of crimson and cadmium. Will pay a small fortune for those early-season pickings. A little underripe, and far too much white beneath the lush green leaves, you don't care for imperfections.

By the time strawberry season rolls around, you'll have spent so long without the delicacy that every single one of them will be perfect. Bruised skin, blackened seeds, it matters not. The flaws only make them sweeter.

"C'mon," he encourages, a saccharine smile on his soft pink lips, eyes adorned with stars as he looks at you. The warmth of his hand in yours only intensifies. You're not an imposter, his touch whispers. You're right where you're supposed to be. "We'll get distracted and miss it if we don't make the effort to actually go in there."

That's the thing about you and Jeongguk. Time wasted together is never a waste, but letting it slip from you is just so easy. Rough grains of sand; hours, minutes, seconds tumble through your fingers - but just like its honey hue, it'll stick to you, too. Will forever tarnish your skin.

Lasting, is the impact of Jeongguk. On you. On your life. On the very fabric of your world.

"Us?" You grin, taking the lead, pulling on his hand as you head towards the entrance. "Get distracted? Since when have we ever done that?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

You say no. There's no need. Will natter about nonsense as you amble over to the archway, instead.

Both laughing, you're in such good spirits that it's hard to remember a time when happiness didn't sit on your shoulders like an old friend; an imp with devilish horns that you know are the result of a clumsily broken halo. No malice, just mischief.

Above the entryway, thick black text boldly declares the intention set out by the curator: Common Skies . A play on the term 'common ground', you raise a brow as you look at Jeongguk. He isn't looking at you, but he is biting down on his bottom lip as if he knows you're putting it all together.

"What?" He sheepishly mumbles through an incredibly pleased, suppressed laugh.

"Skies?" You question the choice of word.

"Common ones, apparently."

Rolling your eyes, you decide to take the plunge and enter the exhibition - and are pouting instantly .

On a central pillar is the focal point of the small gallery room: Verschuier's Tailstar over Rotterdam.

Deep, burnt oranges illuminate a nightscape of the titular city, where townsfolk watch on in awe as the great comet of 1680 passes over it. Though children are crying in the foreground - fear of the unknown, you suppose - the piece has an overwhelming sense of wonder. People stare towards the sky with navigational tools. You wonder what they were aiming for, and decide that maybe it's better not to know.

How human it is, you think, to wonder. To marvel. To fawn and theorise over the things you can't explain, and the possibilities this world could have.

When you glance over to Jeongguk, there's a depletion to your heart rate. A calmness. Contentedness. The promise that for as long as he shall live, you will always have a man who marvels at you like you're a comet worthy of the history books.

Just like the subjects of the painting, he'll fawn and theorise over you. Won't be able to explain a damn thing about you, 'cause he'll spend the entire time fighting smiles and being at war with himself over what to talk about first.

"So," Jeongguk begins, recalling the research he'd done on the topic just so that he could talk you through the exhibition. "In Europe, historically, comets were signs of huge catastrophes. People thought they were a warning. Apocalyptic, kind of."

"Same as here," you muse, connecting the dots together and understanding the concept of the exhibition as a whole. "A common ground."

"Common ground over common skies," Jeongguk smiles with a nod. "This section of the exhibition is all about stars and comets. How different cultures reacted to them. Europe and the Joseon dynasty were worlds apart during the time period, yet they shared the same sentiments. Feared what they didn't understand. Still romanticised it."

Turning on the spot, keeping a tight grip on his hand, your eyes scan over the collection - and sure enough, you're surrounded by celestial events that must have shocked worlds and changed the trajectory of lives.

Despite the volume of work, it's curious how the most stellar depiction of a cosmic entity exists not on parchment nor on canvas. It's not etched into wooden plinths or carefully traced onto ancient moon jars that sit upon them.

Instead, they reside in your eyes and his; beaming at one another like lunar lighthouses in the midst of a tidal storm. The waves glitter and glow around you both, but your light will prevail, always.

Antares, is the way you feel for one another. The heart of the Azure Dragon. A red supergiant. Twenty-five million years in the making.

No piece of art strung up on these walls could ever compare. There are stars in abundance, of oil and acrylic, charcoal and calligraphy ink, but they don't capture the beauty of the sparks that fly whenever Jeongguk is by your side.

Strangers notice it. Do double takes. Whisper to their companions, do we know them? Are they famous? There's something familiar about them...

It won't be until they're on their way home, speckled skies twinkling in delight, that they'll realise they must have seen incarnations of shooting stars with their very own eyes. Manifestations of magic only ever seen in fantasy novels, or whispered around campfires.

Your evening is spent in an amaranthine haze of whimsical stories and unfiltered laughter. There truly is no better person to be around than Jeongguk. From hypothetic stories behind artwork that neither of you recognise, to the genuine, considered thoughts he puts into analysing the works you're keen on with you, he's the best gallery partner you've ever had.

The only one you've had, really. Seokjin never cared much for art, only for the superficial monetary value of mundane canvases. You've had a handful of museum dates over the years, but they were always awkward and forced.

And so galleries have been a place for you to indulge in introversion; a recharge for your batteries.

Something about Jeongguk stems your batteries from ever running low. He's like Duracell bunny. Go, go, go. The conversation never needs to cease - and it doesn't, or at least not until you're back in Jeongguk's car.

He's driven a little further into the city. Parked up at his favourite vantage spot on a small mountain not too far from the centre. The starlovers playlist hums quietly in the background, lights from the city glistening beneath you.

With your back to the door, heels off, your foot rests on the pad of the passenger seat. Anyone else, and he'd tell them off. Say something about how you should be more careful with the upholstery. Would reach over. Knock your foot down.

But he's too dumbstruck to muster any words. Just giggles when he looks at you. Bites his lip. Lets his piercing do the thing. Shakes his head. Eventually, tenderly says, "This is so stupid."

"What is?" You beam right back, so pretty in your shared happiness.

He shrugs. "All of this. You. Me. The fact we're a couple . What we're about to do. So stupid."

Not stupid bad. Not even stupid good. Just stupid in how giddy it makes him feel.

"You're thinking too much," you tell him with unbridled fondness. Know exactly what he means. Feel it too; foolish in the frivolity of it all. "But a word to the wise, Gguk - most girls wouldn't take too kindly to being called stupid."

"You know I didn't mean it like that," he assures you - and he's right. You do know. You just like winding him up.

"Too late," you feign over-dramatic insult. Pout. Wipe away a faux tear from your sparkly cheek. "Can't believe my boyfriend just called me stupid ."

Boyfriend .

Yep. He's still not used to it. Still gets ridiculous butterflies. Confirmed.

"I would never," he protests, reaching out to pull on your wrists. Drags you closer. Ignores the awkwardness of leaning over the centre console, as his hands find your cheeks. Faces no objection when he presses dumb, nonsensical kisses against your lips. Is dopey and obtuse and ever so simple in the way he giggles, even now. Doesn't stop smiling. Not once. "Not stupid."

Deep down, you know you both are, even if just a little bit. It really doesn't matter if you're a bit ditzy in each other's company, for you still managed to work out that all of your puzzle pieces perfectly align. Pretty smart, if you do say so yourself.

"Know what is stupid?" You hum against his lips, not pulling away. He punctuates your question with a tender kiss.

"I'm sure you're gonna tell me."

You smile. Punctuate his sentence, now, with dainty acts of devotion. Whisper, "The fact we're not on the backseats right now."

And while Jeongguk will gladly be a fool for you, he knows better than to keep up the dense facade.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He smirks, pulling away. Is arrogant as he cocks a brow, back inclined up against his door. He knocks his head to the side, indicating where he wants you. "Ladies first."

"On one condition," you bargain, playing into his flirt. Will give him what he wants, but won't give it to him easily.

"I'm listening."

"Ladies first in all aspects of what we're about to do."

"Is that not always the case?" He ribs, using his tongue to toy with his lip ring. Knows exactly what you're insinuating. "Do I not always make sure ladies come first? In all aspects."

You shrug. Flirt. "Just a friendly reminder."

But Jeongguk has spent a day thinking about all the things he wishes he had done to ruin that damn friendship with you months before he mustered up the courage to actually do so.

"There's nothing friendly about what I'm gonna do to you, B," he assures with a cocky grin, then corrects himself. "Do with you. Now, get that pretty ass of yours in the backseat."

"Say please ."

He shakes his head. Presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek. Smirks. "Don't make me ask again."

"Say please," you reinforce, just to rile him up a little more.

But Jeongguk is in no mood to let you take control of the situation. You're in his clothes, and he wants to be in you. Thinks it's a fair trade. Knows you'd agree.

"Backseat, baby," he instructs, jaw sharp, eyes dark, determination unwavering - and how can you refuse? "Now."

40 notes · View notes

therisingkings · 6 months ago

Text

Tell me where it hurts

Read me on Ao3

On his way to his brother's graduation, Laurent's car takes a disastrous slip down a cliffside. Lucky for him, help is one the way.

*****

Laurent’s face was wet.

That was his first thought as he blinked against the stinging in his eyes. The air smelled like matches and burning rubber. There was an almost painful ringing in his ears. His gaze dragged from the dash of his car to the empty passenger seat beside him to the window, sluggish and confused.

His mind tripped over itself trying to make sense of everything. He’d been driving. Yes, that was right. He’d been driving on the highway when a pair of headlights appeared on the wrong side of the wet road. He’d swerved and that must have…

Oh. That explained the cracked windshield. The smell. His hands flexed on the steering wheel, stiff as if he’d been clutching it. They were covered in small cuts. A piece of glass was lodged in between two knuckles, but it didn’t hurt to remove.

In fact, nothing hurt at all, with the exception of that ringing that was more like a migraine.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there with the rain pouring in through his shattered sunroof, trying to figure out what he was looking at as he shivered in his wet clothes. The laminated glass sheet that had once been his windshield was torn and caved in towards the center console. He’d hit something but he couldn’t be sure what. Whenever he tried to turn his head to look at it, white lights danced across his vision, so he decided not to do that anymore.

The rain came down harder, followed by thunder loud enough to send little pieces of glass tinkling onto his dash. Laurent decided to blame the rain for his wet face, for he didn’t want to touch it with his bloody hands. He’d had something important to do tonight, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was. He was wearing one of his nice shirts and thankfully, the blood on his hands didn’t meet the cuffs.

He had to get out of the car, he decided. He was late, or he would be soon. Against all odds, his car still had power and the clock on his dash read eight fifty-seven. His check engine light was also on. For some reason, he found that funny.

His hand was shaking when he tried the door and white momentarily flooded his vision. He blinked it away. The door wouldn’t open, but it was unlocked. Perhaps if he pushed—

Thunder shook the car again. Behind it, was a strange vibrating-thumping sound Laurent couldn’t name and then a voice.

“—okay? Hey! Just don’t move!” The voice came from everywhere at once in the rolling vowels of the Akielon dialect. It was hard to understand and took Laurent several long moments to translate.

He blinked the rain out of his eyes as a man appeared on the other side of the door. He wore bright orange coveralls and a helmet that made him look like a bug and sat in some kind of harness. He put a hand on the side of the car as he tried the door. “Shit.”

Whatever his next words were, they were too quick for Laurent to translate. Why was he speaking Akielon? Oh. That’s right. Laurent had driven his car to Ios so he could take it out on these famous scenic roads.

But why was he in Akielos? It was a long few moments before Laurent could grasp the reason.

Auguste. Auguste was graduating with his doctorates and had asked Laurent to be there.

Fuck. Fuck. Laurent couldn’t miss that. He’d made a promise. He scrambled to get out of his seat belt. He had to be there. The car made a creaking noise. He had to—

“Hey! Hey, it’s okay.” The man put his gloved hand flat against the glass. His next words were Veretain, his accent damn near perfect. “Your plates say you’re from Vere, right?” There was a clicking noise as he went on, “My name is Damen. I spent a couple months in Vere. Beautiful place. A bit, uh, decorative for my tastes.” He looked up and spoke quickly in Akielon. There was someone else? His attention returned to Laurent. “Alright, sweetheart. How about we get you out of here? Close your eyes for me, okay?”

Normally, Laurent would have bitten his head off for the endearment, but he wasn’t sure if his voice would shake like his hands should he try to talk. So, he closed his eyes and the ringing quieted a bit.

A moment later, more glass shattered. His door window, he realized when he opened his eyes.

Damen brushed away the shards and leaned inside. “Good boy,” he purred, his face much too close as he began to saw at the seatbelt. “Now, just don’t move, yeah? I’m just gonna put this around your neck so that you don’t—”

Laurent flinched back explosively as he came close with a neck brace. His vision went white.

The car slipped, now sitting at a downward angle.

“Okay, okay!” There was now a hint of panic in Damen’s voice. “That’s alright. No brace for now, we just gotta get you out of here.” He tossed the brace aside. “Wrap your arms around my neck. Come on—”

Laurent fumbled to get his bag out of the passenger seat, even as the dots swarmed across his eyes some more and nausea churned his stomach.

“You don’t need that. Come on, sweetheart.”

Laurent didn’t listen. He needed his bag. His ticket to the graduation was in there.

“Fuck, fine.” Damen took the bag from him and slung it over his shoulder. “Now, come here. That’s it.”

Laurent wrapped his arms around Damen’s neck, then nearly vomited as his vision went white again. Damen hauled him out through the broken window, his clothes snagging on the glass.

“Good boy. Just keep holding onto me. Don’t look down.”

Laurent held tight, but the moment his vision came back to him, he did look down. The thing that had broken his windshield was a fig tree that was also the only thing holding his precious car up. It had carved a path of destruction as it slipped down the mountain side and now sat with the front end propped on the trunk of the tree, bare feet from the cliff edge.

There was another Akielon waiting with one of those red stretcher things Laurent had seen in movies. Outside, the thumping sound was even louder, and Laurent realized with a start that it must be a helicopter.

Damen shouted something to the second man as he held Laurent tight against his chest, which wasridiculously warm and broad. Together, the two of them helped Laurent into the stretcher, where he was strapped down. He thought, a bit absently, that this all seemed kind of excessive, but he really wanted to lay down. The helicopter blocked out most of the rain, even as lightning colored the dark clouds behind it. Laurent had never seen the underside of a helicopter. There was another man leaning out of the side door that grabbed him and dragged him inside.

His first two rescuers followed not long after. At once, he was surrounded on all sides by people in bug helmets speaking too quickly in Akielon. He closed his eyes against the noise and the nausea that was rising once more.

Damen’s voice rose above the din, silencing the others. With only a few sentences, the others moved off, stepping out of Laurent’s line of sight.

His rescuer had removed his helmet, revealing a head of curls and an achingly handsome face. “Hey there, sweetheart. Miss me?”

Laurent didn’t answer, but he grunted to show he was getting tired of the pet names.

Damen picked up his hand. His fingers were warm as they prodded Laurent’s wrist. “Can you tell me your name?”

Laurent’s tongue was thick in his mouth, his voice like gravel as he said, “Laurent deVere.”

Damen cocked his head, but didn’t lift his gaze from his watch. “Did you say deVere? As in, you’re related to Auguste deVere?”

At once, guilt slammed into Laurent. He choked back his tears. “My brother,” he croaked.

Damen read off a series of numbers to one of the others before he said, “Yeah, I went to school with your brother for a while, but the whole doctor thing wasn’t for me. He’s a good guy. Crazy smart.”

Laurent’s throat constricted. He was missing it. Auguste would never forgive him. After years of radio silence, this was the one thing Auguste had asked of him and he—

“—ent? Hey. Pay attention to me, baby.” Damen’s face hovered over his own. “I’ve got a few more questions for you. Can you tell me what day it is?”

Laurent did. He’d had the day circled on his calendar for months.

“Excellent. Now, when’s your birthday?”

Laurent licked his lips. “M-may thirtieth.”

“How old are you, Laurent?” Damen looked down at him as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

Laurent closed his eyes. “Twenty.”

“Ah, ah. No. Let me see those pretty eyes.” Damen leaned over him again and touched his brow as he shined a flashlight into his eyes. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling? Are you in any pain?”

Laurent squinted against the light. “Nauseous. I, uhg.” He cringed.

Damen paused. “Are you going to vomit?”

“Nooo,” Laurent said miserably, wishing they’d just left him in his car. “My brother…”

“We’ll contact him as soon as we get to the hospital.” Damen set aside the flashlight. “But I need you to focus for me, sweetheart. Are you in pain?”

“I’m thirsty…” Laurent smacked his lips.

Damen sighed. He said something to the others that had somebody start pulling off Laurent’s shoes.

Laurent blinked. His ears were ringing again, but he wasn’t really sure they’d ever stopped. He wanted to cry.

“Open your eyes.”

Laurent did. He hadn’t realized he’d closed them.

“Can you feel that, baby?”

Someone was poking his toes.

“Yeah.”

“What foot?”

“Left.”

“Good boy. Think you can tell me where it hurts now?” Damen knelt by his head as someone began cutting at his clothes.

If he told them that his head hurt, that his ears were ringing, they’d make him stay here longer. “T-those are expensive.” Laurent managed a hint of outrage. He didn’t want to be naked. He was already cold enough.

His shirt was taken first, then his pants.

Damen’s hands were cool and clinical as they felt his ribs, as he listened to his lungs. He kept telling the rest of his team things Laurent couldn’t understand. He put down the stethoscope. “Alright, baby. We’re landing now. The ER team is going to take you.”

“Nooo.” Tears welled in Laurent’s eyes. “I’m gonna miss the graduation.”

“Shh. I’m sure your brother will forgive you.” Damen stroked his hair gently.

“No, please.” Laurent let out a sob that sent white hot shocks of pain through his head. “Please, I can’t miss it.”

Damen cooed, glancing at one of the others then quickly away. “Don’t worry about that right now, sweetheart. It’ll be okay.”

“I don’t wanna go.” Laurent cried harder as the events of the past few hours crashed into him. “Please, don’t make me go.”

The helicopter touched down, jostling him. Damen’s face was pinched in worry as shouting arose from outside.

“What are they saying?” Laurent blurted as he was put onto a hospital stretcher.

Damen stayed at his side as they wheeled him inside, speaking to the nurses. He looked down at Laurent. “It’s gonna be alright.”

“Wait. Wait, no.” Laurent tried to reach for him and couldn’t.

Damen stopped at the door to speak with someone.

Laurent called out to him.

Damen didn’t turn.

#captive prince #captive prince fanfic #damen of akielos #kings rising #laurent #laurent x damen #damen x laurent #laurent of vere #c s pacat #capri #my fanfiction

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dimalink · 5 months ago

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Hearts in Beta - Overnight (2023, EP) – into the night city, into the city of future

Night. Again, night. City. It is around you, it is so mysterious ocean. Seaside. Such a picture for a frontcover. Future. Or, in a car during the road to some place, at the day or evening. Maybe, at night. I listen retrowave during the road from the countryside, or to the countryside.

So, this way, I open, again, the genre for myself. At home, I listen during weekends. This is one more open of the genre for me. Again, EP. Extended Play. And let`s take a ride. By the way, here – five tracks. I notice, that by five tracks EP`s. Well, maybe, it is just coincidence. Allright, let`s go, that`s for sure, right now!

We are diving here in a rhythmic electronic music. Drums. But, not evil. And, straight, and rhythmical. New side of drums tech. Drum machine, maybe. And synthesizers. Whole avalanche of synthesizers. Rhythmical and interesting. It draws in a new universe. 80s and retro future. Just like retro, and, at the same time, it is a future. As 80s, but, at the same time, a future too.

First track. Escape The Night. Slow track. But, at the same time, with some drive. And, with a style, that’s for sure. All night long, you can listen this track. There is a melody. With the high notes it goes. Sounds beautiful! It is a beautiful night in the city, what a night, anyway! Night city. A little of mysterious and something mystical. We try to escape the night. And, our adventure into the world of music just begins! Straight drums will help us with this point. And synthesizers will charm us. This is a sorcery! Such a mystery of sound! Melody, by the way, it is beautiful here. It sounds, the way like you are home, or sounds from a home town. And, so, well known, melody. And synthesizers. It is a cool theme!

Hearts in Beta - Overnight (2023, EP)

Some Kind of a City. Wow! We reach some place, so we ride, and find out ourselves in a city! In a new place! Signals something at the start goes. We receive a broadcast. Will you go with me? Voice, we hear a voice. Maybe, it is, some, fragment from a movie. And, here, also, there is more voice. A fragments with the voice. Interesting solution. And, such a signals, something like, funny sounds. Looks like, some mechanism. And rhythmics. So cool rhythm part! With synthesizers. They are not evil, and most interesting. And not fast. Rhythm here plays a big role! It does not goes for a second plan. And, it goes with the melody, together. Sounds, some sounds like echo. They are on repeat. Some city. New adventure! Night and adventure in a world of music! Maybe, in universe, even, in universe. In space. But we are yet in city. Beautiful night environment. Good night! Even, so, dreamway and, so, long. And, so, rhythmical.

Early Hours. 03. Early Hours (ft. Lisa Marie Perkins). This is early hours. Early hour. Looks like, it is night. Deep night. 1 am. Or 2 am. Early hours. And, maybe, it is, already, everything is going to sunrise. 4 or 6 morning. Yes, no one interrupt you, or say, that it is wrong, if you will listen during the day with most good and positive summer day. It is, also, goes cool!

Rhythmics. Rhythm is so straight here. Yes, this is something about 80s. Such type of a rhythm. Wow, cool! Melody is so inconspicuous. When it starts – I do not remember. But, I catch some idea, that I, already, listening this melody for some time. Early hours. I, already, relaxed enough. And, swim, dive. In the city. For a certain reason, not in vain, - front cover with the ocean picture. And a futuristic boat. Or car.

Wow! And, this is a song! Unexpected! Night surprise! This is a song! Good retro wave in a song. Thoughtful. Dream way. Slow tempo rhythm. Wow! I, always, know, that to be slow – it is so cool. So, everything is so slowed and not fast. But, with some rhythm, at the same time. It does not give you to fall asleep. Atmosphere of the night.

To the end, again, it goes melodies, melodies. Retrowave has some cool this kind melodies! And, at the very end – it is, again, almost silence. Synthesizer`s single keys. Yes, it was cool. Fabulous hours!

04. Memory – Waves. These words, a voice speaks with us. It is beautiful. Drum rhythm changing. It is, also, straight. It is, also, not fast. But it is new. And, a new melody. This time, it is, that’s for sure, it is dream way and cosmic one. But, we are in a night city. No need to have such a hurry to move in space. But, this is, also, possible with this music.

Wave style, maybe, a kind of melody. Like you are moving by waves. Not in vain, front cover has like ocean picture and you swim or ride by it. Beautiful melody! Breathtaking melody. With a slow tempo. And, so, super exciting. Enchanting. And, so, positive! So, this is a cool melody with slow tempo. It was exciting! A thing you really need! Memory. Night. Waves. Melodies. And a rhythm – helps you not to fall asleep. And to move forward.

To the end, again, cool kind of drums. Excellent record! This is a thing, I want to say!

Arrival. 05. Arrival 2085. Looks like, every travel has its own destination, its own end. Or night is going to the end. Sunrise. So, reddish, it is, already. Or, maybe, you, already, get to place, and road is behind. Or, well, it is just a final track. Arrival. We are moving to some point. So, here it is a movement. Future. Maybe. Super-techno computer future. Last track for this night. Rhythm is goes rather normal. And, once again, you don’t take it, but, melody is going too. Unnoticed way, melody is going here. And, next point, you listen this melody, not a rhythm. Well, say it - it is made very exciting way. And, rhythm, you can hear good, and, there is a melody. And, there is something saxophone here. So, now, that’s for sure, we reach the destination point with a positive!

There are here a photos from end of summer season. From countryside season. It is, already, dark, when you go to the city. Everything is so colorful. And dark. And lots of colors in a night city. Almost, like front cover. Countryside season 2024 was excellent. And, road to the city, it is, so, fantastic, in the end of countryside season, when it is, already, dark in the evening.

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faegoddessog · 3 months ago

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Dia de los Muertos

This is a request made several months ago by @12joeywheelerfangirl and is as follows:

"Oooh. I was thinking an Austin and Latina Female Reader, where they're in an interracial relationship and everyone is against it. Even though she would give him the best sex of his life or something like that. Because there are hardly any Austin stories where he's in an interracial relationship."

To be complely honest, I was a little trepedatious as I am not a Latina woman and didn't want to overstep or trod upon cultural toes. Nevertheless, I put it in the old brain-thing and waited for inspiration. It took a while, but finally an idea struck me. I did some cultural research, including drawing from a few hispanic families, some I've known all my life. So here we are. If I have misrespresented any part, including any of the spanish language bits, please forgive me and feel free to DM me. Please remember it is just fiction, not meant to be an essay on the intricasies of Lantino-American Culture.

Thanks @12joeywheelerfangirl for your patinece, I know this took a stupid-long amount of time to come to fruition!

Thanks @purejasmine for some language correction suggestions!

Here is my Masterlist of works if you like what you read!

Warnings: Cunnilingus, panty fetish, masturbation with panties, Unprotected PIV (stay safe kids).

Dia de los Muertos

“Wait a minute, what?” Austin’s face froze as your words sunk in, “they’ll ALL be there?”

It wasn’t really your fault, or Austin’s. His schedule took him away and you traveled for work, overseeing medical treatment sights all over the western half of the states. Usually you were home for weekends, but lately, you had been opting to fly instead to see Austin on location for some of them, when his schedule allowed.

You see, you had been dating Austin for the better part of a year and they hadn’t met him yet. That was like an eternity for your big rowdy family. Your sisters and cousins were jealous and your mother was pressuring you to bring him around. Your father? Well, he was in a huff that a boy, an actor, a gringo no less was taking his first baby girl away from the family.

So here you were, driving to your parents house together. Apparently, when you said you were going over for dinner, he hadn’t realized you meant family dinner. He’d also not considered that it was specifically a Dia de los Muertos celebration.

“Yeah it’s just the family, no big deal baby,” you tried to assure him now.

“Babe, I” Austin blew out a big breath, “I figured that the first time I met your mom and dad, it’d be a small dinner with just us.”

“I didn’t know that was what you expected ,” you frowned, the idea not even have entered your mind. Familia was familia, a package deal.

He glances from the road to your concerned face. “’It’s ok, babe, I’m just nervous, I grew up in such a small family, I just can’t fathom having so many cousins.”

“Like 12 is a lot,” you waved away his fears, “It’s not like they are all married with their own kids, just the oldest ones.”

“I guess I just assumed you’d tell me that everyone was going to be there before we went,” he takes a big breath, trying to process his own reaction.

“Well we are not there yet,” your accent thickening a little in defense, “so I DID tell you before and you should never assume anything about Latina women.”

“Especially not such beautiful ones,” Austins smiles, sneaking a glance at you.

God he knows exactly how to de-escalate when you get hot under the collar, usually by making your heart flutter.

“Okay that’s not fair, being all charming,” you smile back, “besides, it’s not like it’s BOTH sides of the family, I swear there won’t be that many.”

Boy howdy, were you wrong.

You arrive a little early to find your father in the garage getting out extra tables and chairs with a couple of your cousins.

“Mija! You made it!” he kisses your cheek, “my first born, I’ve missed you.”

“Hola Papi,” you kiss his cheek back. “This is Austin.”

“Hola Señor, it’s so great to meet you,” he holds out his hand giving his most magnetic smile.

Your father looks at his hand before taking it almost forcefully.

“Ah yes, the man responsible for my beautiful daughter's absence from the family of late,” it’s hard to tell how serious he is being.

“Papà! It’s not his fault, I’ve been gone more often for work before,” you scold him trying to take the pressure off of Austin.

He takes it in stride though, “It’s true, she’s come to see me on location a few times. But I’d never dream of taking your wonderful daughter away. Here let me help,” he reaches for the chairs.

“At least this one has a job, mija,” your father relents as he passes the chairs over.

“Papà! That was years ago,” you can’t believe he would bring up that boy you dated in college. The one that made you reluctant to bring boys over ever again.

Austin does the gentlemanly thing and pretends he doesn't hear.

When you usher him into the back yard, you see the reason for all the chairs. Mamà had not mentioned that her side of the family had driven the four hours to visit for Dia de los Muertos. So Austin was greeted with upwards of 60 people in the backyard. Kids were running around chasing each other, adults were chatting in both English and Spanish, teenagers sat on the grass petting dogs. The grill was smoking in the corner. Your mother and tia were setting food up on the deck buffet style.

Austin looked at you over his shoulder with a ‘not that many, huh?’ look. You just shrugged. This was your familia, take it or leave it.

You gripped his hand after he set down the chairs. He put on his ‘red carpet’ face and dove in.

You two make a bee-line for your mother, wanting to introduce Austin right away. Your Mamà was so excited to see you, hugging you immediately and pinching your cheeks like when you were a little girl.

“Mamà,” you quietly chide her, “this is Austin.”

“Lovely to meet you Señora,” Austin smiles smoothly, “and here I thought you were her sister.” He pecked her on the check in greeting and she waved him off with a bashful little smile, smitten in an instant.

The next 20 minutes are a cacophony of loud greetings and introductions. He takes selfies with the younger cousins, holds your oldest cousin's new baby, and answers every question with calm, confident energy. When your Tia Theresa found out he played Elvis, he spent 15 minutes patiently answering all the same questions he had spent months answering in press junkets.

You had no idea why he was worried before. He was perfectly equipped to handle them all. Your family was just being your family. They weren’t aggressive, per se, just meddlesome sometimes. Honestly it was how they showed their love.

When he is presented to your Grandma, he busts out flawless spanish that he’d been working on with you. He was such a quick study.

“Hola Abuela, encantada,” he leans down to peck her cheek and she blushes.

“¿Quién es este hombre guapo con ojos azules?” she asks with a strangely girlish smile on her wrinkled face.

“Es Austin, mi novio, Leeta,” you say as you lean down to kiss her other cheek. She looks pointedly at your left hand then up at you in the way that only she can deliver. She’d been poking at you for years to get married and have babies. You shrug with a hopeful smile on your face.

Austin was flawless, using his natural charm to interact with every member of your family brave enough to approach him. You knew this would happen, that he’d captivate them. You knew a little something about the love your man inspired in others.

Something started happening that you hadn’t expected. A warmth inside you grew as you watched him interact with your family. You’d seen him work a crowd of fans, a room of fellow celebrities and directors, a freaking gauntlet. But watching him work his magic on your loved ones? Jesus, he was more than a fucking star. With every peck on the cheek, every handshake and smile, every in-the-moment eye contact made with both old and young, every one made your heart flutter over and over again.

He asked your mother to tell him all about the food as he got in line. She helped him heap his plate with paella, tamales, mole chicken and grilled corn, not to mention the homemade tortillas and bowl of pozole in his other hand.

“We’ve got to put some meat on your bones,” she jested, poking his waist. She didn’t know just how much gorgeous meat was already there, how muscled he was underneath his vintage tee, how much he worked out and ate clean to keep himself camera ready.

You quietly slipped him a couple lactaids from your purse, knowing how much dairy your mother snuck in and around her delicious dishes. He leaned in to whisper his thanks. You thought he might kiss you, but he knew better. That might have sent your Papa into a tizzy.

He ate every single thing on the plate. Without asking, he helped clear the dishes from the picnic table when everyone was done. Your Mamà caught your eye as he walked from the table, dishes piled in his hands. She nodded at you with approval, a subtle blessing you’d seen her give your sister and your cousins but never to you. Austin was the first boy you’d brought home that garnered that kind of benediction.

Papà and Tio Andres told the story about their grandfather coming to America and meeting their grandmother. Austin attentively listens, being wholly present whether in English or Spanish. You translate softly in his ear when necessary. The scent of him stokes that warmth in your chest into a tiny fire in your belly.

Leeta, across from Austin, smiled as she listened. She was grateful that her boys remembered the stories, it is how loved ones are kept alive. You knew she missed her mama and still kept her picture next to her nightstand, now on the ofrenda. Even though she had a smile on her face, Austin sensed her emotion immediately. Seeing the tears in her eyes, he reached over and gently touched the back of her hand.

Leeta looked down, taking his long fingered hand hand in her old one. She turns his hand over, running her fingers along his palm. He didn't know it, but this was the moment of truth. It didn't matter if your Papi liked him or not or if your Tia was enamoured of him or if he ate everything yourMamà fed him. If Leeta didn’t accept him, your relationship was going to be an uphill battle as far as the family was concerned.

“Qué es esto?” She asked running her fingers on the tattooed number on his wrist.

“I lost my mother too, it’s her favorite, lucky number,” he said in the mostly quiet moment.

Her old, watery eyes lifted to his soulful blue ones. You translated into Spanish, though she knew enough to get the gist of what he said and had enough of her own grandmother’s brujas blood to see to the heart of him. Tears spring to his eyes as he tries to blink them back.

“Mijo” Leeta’s hand, wrinkled for as long as you could remember, cupped Ausitn’s cheek, “Es el Día de los Muertos. Cuéntanos sobre ella.”

“She wants you to tell us about her, it is Dia de los Muertos afterall,” you say in his ear.

“She was” he takes in a shaky breath and looks right at Leeta, “she was wonderful, my best friend and biggest supporter. She gave up so much to help me pursue my dreams. I wouldn’t be where I am today without her, I just wish she could see how far I’ve come.” He closes his eyes, trying to hold back tears. “I miss her so much.”

“Do you have a picture of her? We can put it on the ofrenda,” your mother said into the quiet after you finished translating for Leeta.

He shook his head, “Only on my phone.” He just now realized that this was the quietest moment of the whole day and every eye was on him, few of them dry.

“Um,” you said, reaching into your purse and pulling out a small photo, “I made a copy of the one you have in your living room. Just in case.” You knew how much his mother meant to him. You handed the photo of her smiling face to him as his other hand pressed into his heart. A tear streaks down his cheek.

Everyone around the table nods in approval. A tear shed for your madre shows respect and love.

He showed Leeta the photo, “Mi Mamà.” you could hear the shake in his voice.

“Déjala estar con nosotros,” she waved to the ofrenda with a kind and knowing smile.

You and Austin put Lori on the ofrenda. As you hand him a candle to light, you say a prayer for her:

“God of the living and dead. We remember Lori with sweetness and happiness. Keep from our hearts the bitterness of parting and replace it with Joy. Her gifts were gifts to us- Amen”

You cross yourself and look to see Austin staring at the photo wide eyed, his cheeks wet with tears. He looked as though the prayer had drilled into the very heart of him. You put your arm around him. Everyone gave the both of you space for a few minutes at least.

By the time you two walked out the door, which was about 45 minutes from when you had said “we should go’, he had been told over and over again in no uncertain terms that he was coming back next Sunday for dinner.

“It’ll be smaller, only about 25 of us,” your mama reassured him.

He was also summarily invited any time he was in town, whether you were with him or not. He had been hugged by your father, hugged! Leeta had kissed both his cheeks, where your Tia Theresa planted one right one his lips.

"See,” you said when you had both buckled in. “I said you had nothing to worry about.”

“That was- “ Austin puffs out a laugh shaking his head, unable to finish his thought.

On the drive home he is quiet, not unusual for him after being around a bunch of people. You sit in companionable silence, letting him recharge.

“Honey,” he finally ventures, “that was the sweetest thing you have ever done for me, bringing that photo of Mom. I’d never done anything so ceremonial like that before, besides the funeral. I could feel her there, y’know, when you said that prayer. Thank you.”

“Of course my love, Leeta always says the veil is thin on Dia de los Muertos, it’s why the ancestors can visit,” you sneak your hand over the center console and onto his thigh. His fingers drifted over your knuckles and into the web between each of your fingers. It kindles that warmth in your belly into flames, now that you are alone. You can’t be blamed for being so joyously turned on. He’s a fucking dream come true.

“You want me to drop you at your place? I know you have a flight out tomorrow and probably need to get ready.” He was so thoughtful and supportive of you. You were already ready. You’d always been a ‘get it done now” kinda girl which is why you were so good at your job.

“Yeah, but I need you to stay,” your voice dips lower. “Please.”

He knows that tone, knows what it means. He glances at you, your lips parted only just and your brown eyes big and dark with desire.

“Oh, I see. It’s like that is it?” His voice with the barest of a teasing edge.

“Oh yes, yes it is. Did you think you were gonna charm your way into mi familia and NOT get a reward?”

His lips roll between his teeth as he looks back at the road. “Well, I’d hoped, but I was expressly told not to assume with beautiful Latinas,” he says mirroring your own words back with a smile.

“That is correct Sir, even the most handsome, charming and amazing boys had better watch out,” you chuckle.

“Ooo Sir, I like that, you should call me that from now on.”

“In your dreams loverboy,” you tease, running your hand up his thigh.

“I don’t need to dream, when I have you,” he says in such a natural and conversational way that it couldn’t be considered corny if he tried.

Ten minutes later, the way he nearly skidded to a stop in front of your townhouse said everything you needed to know about how your thigh-fondling tactic was working.

You were out of the car and unlocking the front door before he could get over to your side. He usually liked to open the door for you with his easy-going but old-school mojo. He sidled up behind you, hand sneakily cupping the curve of your round behind. This another testimony to how horny you made him in the car. He rarely touched you like this where paps might catch him, being careful to always be the gentleman.

“God, I love this ass,” he whispered in your ear. The latch clicks and the look you throw over your shoulder at him simply oozes sexiness.

He follows you in and bolts the deadbolt behind him. Your purse and sandals are tossed aside and you are on him. Shoving him up against the door, kissing him passionately.

He takes the hit against the door with nary an ‘oof’. One hand tangled in your silky brown hair, the other pressed onto your sacrum. He meets your fiery kisses with his own intensity. Ever masculine, without the machismo.

“What, this ass?” you wiggle your hips back into his hand.

He growls low with a grin on his face and pulls you tight to him, leaving no room for doubt as to just how much arousal the sway of your ass is causing him.

“What’s that Austin?” you decide to pull out a little corniness of your own, “got somethin’ in your pocket for me?”

“What I got for you won’t fit in a pocket honey,” his lips graze your chin.

Well hell, if that ain’t the truth.

You respond with furrowed brows and a little growl. Your own hips pulse against him just before you push away. He lets you go just so he can watch your ass again. He’d have been happy to turn and fuck you up agasint the mahogany door, shaking the whole townhouse no doubt. But he knows how much you like to tease and play before letting him take you.

It's true though, you love to lead him around by the dick, both proverbial and literal. Winding him up into a frenzy, then letting him loose on you, in you. It drives him wild the way you wrangle him.

As you walk away, you reach behind your back and pull the zipper to your sundress down a couple of inches. The very same sundress he’d been imagining getting under all day.

Austin hurries to follow and catches you at the bottom of the stairs. He drags the zipper-pull the rest of the way down. His warm fingers eliciting a shiver down your spine. Fuck, you loved the way he read you, did just what you wanted without you having to ask.

You step up on the bottom stair making you the same height as him. You turn and pull him into a kiss, wrapping your hand up the nape of his neck and into his hair.

Every flick of your tongue against his, every scrape of your teeth over the glorious fullness of his bottom lip, every little mewling moan into his mouth mere promises of what was to come.

You turn quickly and head up the carpeted stairs. Your fingers catch his and pull him along.

“Wait,” he says, catching your ankle as you near the top, ”please, just right here for a sec.”

You stop as he glides his hand up the backs of your thighs, ruching the hem of the dress on his lithe wrist.

“Let me just…” he pushes the back of your knees, making you kneel above him. A soft hand pushes your back down to lay on the floor at the top of the stairs.

“Now bring that back,” he pulls on your hips.

You cradle your head on your forearms, knowing what’s coming next. No, not the old spit on it and shove it in, not Austin. He took pains to make sure you were ready for him. It was not his first rodeo.

“Awww, panties?” he feigned disappointment, as if he’d expected you to go to your parent’s commando. But you knew that was not the case. He’d never come out and said it, but you knew that Austin loved panties. He loved to rub your lips through the fabric, loved pulling them gingerly aside to find the cotton panel stuck to your dripping pussy. Austin loved pulling them off slowly to unveil the spicy, passionate girl just under the surface. You loved that he teased you back, drew out the moment of truth like you were a present to unwrap.

“Mmm so sexy babe,” he comments, slipping his fingers just barely under the edge.

Today you had on your silkiest pair, light peach and very simple. He’d bought them for you and you had a sneaking suspicion why they were not covered in lace, why they felt so soft. Tonight you were gonna find out if you were right.

His thumbs deftly hooked along the waistband, pulling them down just enough to show off your recently waxed lips. You didn’t always wax, but you did love the feel of him smoothly entering you.

“Oh fuck baby, that’s gorgeous,” his breath hot across your ass. He peels you apart with his thumbs before he presses his face against you. Then his tongue was outstretched, lapping at you with a soft moan.

A man that loves to eat pussy is a delight. A man who loves it and is good at it is a treasure. A man who loves it, is good at it, and is hot as fuck? Pure, adulterated magic.

Austin laps expertly at your pussy with his long tongue, exploring every nook and cranny with the tip as though he’d never done it before. His goal right now isn't to make you cum here on the stairs. He wants the taste of you, the texture of you, the feel of you.

“Let’s get these off, sweetheart,” he pulls the silken underthings down farther. You oblige, lifting one then the other knee.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him slipping them into the pocket of his carhart.

You swear more of your panties ended up in his pockets than in your laundry. Apart from the very first pair, he’d always laundered and returned them, slipped into your underwear drawer with a little love note. Sometimes new pairs were slipped in too, like the ones you had on.

He presses your knees wide, opening you up for him. He laps over and over with a wide tongue from your clit to your sweet little pucker. You hum pleasantly pushing back into him. He presses his face in again, this tongue thrusting into you. His fingers ghost across your clit and you groan.

“Yeah, devora mi coño Austin,” you moan against your arm.

From the way he dove deep back into you, he knew exactly what you meant. It’s not as though he’s not heard it before. Smart man, is Austin.

After a few minutes, you realize you’d better get off these stairs or you are gonna have to postpone your little surprise for him. So you push upright, tilting your hips away from him. The sad little sound he makes nearly bends you back over.

Fuck, he’s so baby boy.

You stand and the dress slips off your shoulders to puddle on the floor in the hallway as you look back with a wry smile.

He follows, wiping his chin and licking his soft, cushiony lips. God those lips. He catches up to you just inside the bedroom. You pull his face down to yours. He groans as you unabashedly dive your tongue into his mouth, tasting yourself.

“Jesus, honey,” he murmurs when you let him up for air.

You kiss him to the edge of the bed, pushing his jacket off his shoulders.

“Off” you say, gesturing to his clothes. The fact that you have nothing but a bra on only adds to your dominant behavior.

Austin drops his coat on the corner of your bed. He plops down to unlace his boots and toe them off. He stands to pull his jeans and underwear down together, following directions like a good boy. He didn’t notice your quick rummage in his coat pocket.

The first time you saw Austin in all his glory, it was made abundantly clear why he could pull off that rolling, big-dick-energy gait. Because well… he had a big dick. Yes, he was a shy, sweetie of a man, but a hung one. There was no room in his pants for insecurity.

The hard sight of him now makes your eyes flash with fiery passion. Without another word you shove him down onto the bed.

He knows when you’ve lost it, when your hot latina blood is throbbing in your veins. He scoots back to lie on the bed, offering himself and his hard cock up to whatever you want. He knows better than to try and take control when you are like this.

You straddle his legs. Your bountiful tits bounce as you pull off your bra.

“Come baby, use me,” he thumbs his cock up expecting you to pounce on him. He loves when you ride him.

“No mi amor, I need to know what it is you do with these,” you hold up your pale pink panties, “before you so kindly wash them for me.”

The look on his face is entirely unschooled. Neither he nor you have brought it up before. His big shocked eyes, mouth working wordlessly open and closed, his cheeks reddening are all you need to confirm your suspicions. He’s a kid caught in the candy jar.

Suddenly, the idea of him moaning, eyes closed and your silky panties wrapped around his thick shaft had just the right amount of naughty taboo to make your head spin and your juices flow.

“Oh you naughty boy,” your voice comes out low and hot.

You immediately clamp your thick thighs onto his, holding him down. He lets his hard dick thud to his stomach, suddenly embarrassed to touch himself.

“Listen, it’s not-” he tries to say.

“Oh no you don’t, get that back up here,” you interrupt, voice low and sultry, “I wanna see you do it.”

“Really?” he figured you would be livid. When you raise an eyebrow as if to say ‘don’t make me ask twice’, he mumbles, “God, you are so fucking sexy.”

You drape your panties over his cock and wrap your hand around it. Sliding the silky fabric up and down his thick shaft.

“Oh my god,” his eyes trained on your hand, face awash with lust.

It’s so fucking hot. Usually he is so in control of himself, even when he’s turned on there is a level of self discipline. You can tell that control is slipping as you indulge his fetish unasked.

“Put it in, on the inside,” he moans.

You frown a little unsure of what he means.

“Like this,” he pulls the panties off and inserts his cock between the layers, so his tip is nestled in the wet spot you left on the cotton crotch.

“I like to cum where your pussy lips drooled, makes me feel close to you when we are apart,” he admits. He can’t help it, if he’s in for a penny, then he’s in for a pound.

“Jerk” you say, nodding your chin at him.

“I’m uh,” his face falls. It takes you a second to realize that he thinks you are pissed about his confession, one he had no intention of telling you. “No, no baby. Jerk it, jerk off,” you quickly say, “stroke yourself, I wanna see it.”

“Oh,” relief floods his face and he reaches for himself.

You hadn't realized he would be so skittish, so nervous about his little fetish. You wrap your hand around his, encouraging his movement.

He’s never jerked off in front of you before, but right now he is so turned on he doesn’t care. His chin is tilted up as his hand slides back and forth, reveling in the wetness sticking to his tip and the silky texture draped along his shaft. The tendons on his forearm lift, popping as he works himself. His naked pec hard on that side, his abs and thighs flexing.

It’s so fucking hot, he is so fucking hot. Your fingers drop to caress his balls.

“Oh fuck yes,” his head snaps up, his eyes dark pools of desire. His hand moves just a little faster. “You want me to cum in them?”

The way he asks, breath forced and brows furrowed, is so damn hot. “I want to ride that cock,” falls out of your mouth before you realize it’s not exactly an answer to the question.

“Do it baby,” he pulls the fabric off his cock, fingers fluttering in a ‘come here’ gesture.

You waste no time moving forward onto him, raking his tip through your soft, wet, and needy folds. With a moan of satisfaction, you slide down over him. God, how he stretches you, pulling on the skin taut below your clit. You rise and fall on him, savoring every substantial inch. Tucking your feet under you, your hands fall to his chest and his pecs flex. His sprinkle of blonde chest hairs provide just the perfect amount of texture under your flexed fingers. You bounce the glorious length of him as he groans and moans under you. His hands, one still wrapped in your panties, grasp the curve of your hips.

“Fuck yeah, ride that cock baby,” he loves it so much.

You do, harder, faster, the flush of warmth and tightening rippling out from your center. Your insides flutter and your motion stutters slightly. His arms and chest flex as he helps lift and drop you as his hips thrust in tandem. His gaze travels up and down your body, jaw set and tense. He’s watching the jounce of your tits and the red rise up your chest and the quiver of your chin as you pleasure yourself on him.

The stretch, feeling of fullness, the wet sounds of him dashing in and out, the angle inside you are all just eminently good. It sneaks up on you like warm water poured down your spine. Your pussy grasps at him so deep inside. It’s a nice, shivery, moaning orgasm that contracts your abdomen and flutters your eyes. Your legs stop their pumping in favor of hips rolling back and forth.

“That’s it baby,” he slows his thrusts, one hand gently grasping your breast as you breathe through your pinnacle.

Your eyes shudder open to see his dark gaze on you. Bottom lip bit and biding his time, he is a predator poised to strike.

As you barely start to come down, his thumb and forefinger roll your nipple. The little needy moan that escapes you unbidden makes him quiver under you. His arms slide under yours and suddenly you are on your back. His abrupt weight on you is sublime and anchoring.

In that instant, you know you are not in charge anymore.

His cock, still buried deep, starts slamming over and over into you. His groans are the loudest you've ever heard from him.

“Fuck. You. Are. So. HOT!” He thrusts into your pussy with each word. Face tucked into your neck, his upper body leaning on his elbows, your panties are still clutched in his fist. You wonder if he can smell them as his cock is like a piston inside you.

“Oh fuck Austin, let me…” your hand worms its way under his arm and between your bodies. His abs lift and his hips pause to let you in.

“Yeah, baby, get it. Want you to cum again,” his words make you moan. His breath is hot on your neck.

Your fingertips settle on your clit as his hips start up again. Knowing it’ll take a few minutes, he ploughs you in a steady cadence. Every thrust bumping into your hand and consequently rubbing your hard little nub.

“Oh fuuuuuck,” the moan slips from your mouth as you feel yourself ratchet tighter.

His hips pick up the pace, your fingers start to flicker hard against yourself. Your other hand fists into his hair, holding him tight to you.

“Me encanta, Me encanta, Me encanta!” you moan as your pussy clenches tighter, unsure which language you are using.

“Mi amor, that’s it,” he turns his head into your neck licking your skin, “cream me baby.”

The scream comes from your toes. Pleasure explodes in you and up your spine. Your hips gyrate on him, as you grab fistfulls of him in both hands, his hair and his ass.

His powerful glutes rapid fire his hips into you as he finally lets himself loose. It’s feral, how he ravages you. So much so that the world blurs and your teeth rattle as he fucks your hard through your orgasm.

The thunder of his scream is muted by the mouth full of your neck and shoulder. His ass vice like as his balls pump cum deep into you. His whole body shakes. His teeth bite your skin while your nails press little curves into his. His body thrusts once, twice more into you. He exhales, a quivering mess laid on top of your quivering mess.

After a handful of breaths, your hips can’t help but rock along his spent length, pussy clenching and unclenching around him.

Austin squirms in overstimulation. His hand grips your hips tight in an effort to stop your delicious torture.

“Damn girl,” his voice is more whine than exclamation with a smile playing at his lips.

“What, am I too much latina for you baby boy?” you giggle, loving it when he’s like this.

“You are fucking amazing, is what you are,” he pants out, “just give me a minute and I’ll prove it.”

For the rest of the night, that is what he did, full stop.

Hours later, you ended up curled into his arms, a shivery, shaking, satiated mess with a smile a mile wide.

“I love you, mi amor,” he whispers into your ear.

“Te amo, bebe, te amo,” your voice hoarse from the moaning, the screaming. You drift on a sea of endorphins.

You weren’t sure before, but after all the events of today you know now. You are gonna white-picket-fence this man so hard, he won’t know what hit him.

What you don’t know is that Austin is thinking the exact same thing and how someday soon he might just have something for you that does fit in his pocket and on your finger.

Peeps who may want to know! , @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight @thisworldisntrealhoney, @1nho, @megangovier, @briaandthephantoms, @andro-inherdreamworld @callumsgirl @blombardo @fefeisastar @hacunamy @nestito702 @denised916 @jayydep @r0m4nitcl0v3r @heyidc03, @secondchild-2, @flander42 @natural-born-rebel-spirit @lecosymood @kathrynzaragoza @bsunshinexo @jayydep @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke @peggyao3, @sunflowers-77, @estrogensensuallovegasm @ivycjl @jjubilee-fluff @psycheetamore @austinshirogane @ab4eva @jubilee-fluff @12joeywheelerfangirl

WANT TO BE ADDEDD TO THIS LIST? ☝🏼 DM me or toss it in the comments below.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler smut #austin butler/reader #Austin Butler x latina female

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soypeople · 25 days ago

Text

'Checkmate, Old Maid, and Other Card Games to Play With Your Friends!"

Chapter 1 (AO3 LINK)

“Haha! Shotgun!” Dewey cried triumphantly as he hopped in the front seat of the limo, dooming his brother to sit in the back seat.

“No fair! You always get shotgun! Shouldn’t I get shotgun since I’m older?” Huey crossed his arms, and he slumped a bit.

“Yeah, but I got here first! Plus, the older brother thing only applies when we’re trying to one-up Louie on who gets first dibs on the movies at movie night, remember? Plus plus, I’m Launchpad’s best friend. His car, his rules!”

“Hey, wait, what?” Louie huffed as he slid into the back of the car. “Also, it’s not even Launchpad’s limo, it’s Scrooge’s! Launchpad doesn’t have limo money.”

Huey nodded. “Thank you, Louie. You get first dibs on our next movie night!”

Louie pumped his fist before lying against the car door after he closed it, taking out his phone.

“Well, Launchpad’s driving, so he gets the final say. What do you say, Launchpad, does your best friend get shotgun or do these dew-fuses have a point?”

Launchpad was sitting in the driver’s seat, silently staring at his hands on the steering wheel, an unreadable, blank expression on his face.

“Launchpad?” Dewey asked, tapping him on the shoulder, which seemed to bring him back to reality, causing him to jump.

“Driving!” He replied, stepping on the gas and ramming into the side of the garage, causing Dewey to hit his head on the dash, earning a chuckle from his brothers.

“Still glad you called dibs on shotgun?” Louie asked.

“Worth it!” Dewey grinned, sitting back up once he recovered from the impact.

“Launchpad, that’s the wrong direction,” Huey said, and Launchpad swerved to go the right way.

“I knew that…” Launchpad said, nodding his head

“Launchpad! You never answered my question…” Dewey whined.

“Uh… What?”

“I said that I’m your best friend, so that means I get shotgun when you drive, right?”

“Oh, uh.. Yeah.” Launchpad replied in a mumble.

“See?” Dewey nodded and crossed his arms despite neither of his brothers being able to see him.

Huey looked to the rearview mirror, watching Launchpad’s sunken eyes wander the road. He grimaced. “Launchpad, are you alright? You seem a lot more… Distracted than usual… We could go back and ask Mom to drive us instead…”

“No! No, it’s fine… I’m not distracted at all…” He trailed off. “It’s okay, I can drive. I drive all the time… The driver. I drive…”

Huey and Louie exchanged a glance in the back seat. Louie just rolled his eyes and went back to scrolling on his phone, while Huey continued to look concerned.

Eventually, the triplets reached Funso’s Funzone, and Launchpad dropped them off.

“Aw, aren’t you gonna come, too?” Dewey asked Launchpad, standing at the driver’s side window and looking up at him. “Come on, Double-O, I need my player two!”

Launchpad looked almost as if he had seen a ghost when Dewey said this, and Huey opted to drag him away to keep him from bothering Launchpad any further, much to the annoyance of Dewey.

They waved goodbye to him as they went inside and met Lena, Webby, Boyd, and Violet.

Eventually, while the others were about ready to leave, Huey pulled his brothers aside.

“Is it just me, or is Launchpad acting weird…?” Huey asked. “And he looks so tired… Maybe we shouldn’t have asked him to bring us…” He sighed.

“Huey, Launchpad’s always weird,” Louie said, sipping his soda.

“Yeah, but aren’t you worried? I’ve never seen him like this… I don’t know… He looks really scared.”

Dewey sighed. “Of course I’m worried about him… But if he’s not gonna talk, I’m not gonna pry…”

Louie raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re like… The biggest pry-er in the world.”

“Well, yeah, but maybe it’s just something he doesn’t wanna talk about… I already asked him last week because it seemed like something was bothering him, but he kept saying it was okay… So I’m gonna believe him…” Dewey said, sounding a bit hurt.

“We could try and talk to him now. I don’t think I ever saw him pull out of the driveway…” Louie suggested, walking over to the door and opening it. It seemed that Launchpad was still, in fact, in the driveway. The three brothers made their way over and looked in through the passenger’s side. When they looked inside, it appeared that Launchpad was asleep, slumped over the wheel, and drooling slightly. He was mumbling something, which was inaudible due to the car door between them. Dewey slowly opened the door, and they could now vaguely hear Launchpad’s utterances, his face scrunched up.

“Sleeptalking…” Huey said quietly, trying to listen in, but was only able to make out a few distinct phrases such as ‘follow me-’ and ‘-get caught.’

“Right, I remember you mentioning that. That’s how you got your F.O.W.L. base layout, right?” Louie asked.

Huey put a hand up to Louie’s face to try and quiet him down as he continued to listen to Launchpad.

Dewey got up on the seat and shook Launchpad a bit, who awoke with a frightened start. He calmed down a bit once he finally seemed to realize who had woken him up.

“Hey guys, you ready to leave?” Launchpad asked, running a hand through his visibly sweat-soaked hair to try and reign in its messiness, putting his chauffeur cap back on.

“...Are you sure you’re okay? You seem kinda jumpy…” Huey asked, climbing onto the car seat next to Dewey.

“Yeah, it’s kinda worrying me…” Dewey added quietly.

“You look severe.” That was all Louie had to say, still standing outside the car, peeking at Launchpad from between his brothers.

Launchpad looked away. “It’s… Uh… Nothing…” He tried giving them a reassuring smile, but they obviously didn’t buy it.

The three Duck brothers pulled each other into a huddle outside the car, much to the confusion of Launchpad, who opted to start up the car while he waited for them.

“Guys, I think we just found our newest mystery,” Huey said with a small grin. Despite his worry for their friend, he really couldn’t help himself. All of their family mysteries had been solved for the most part, and things had gotten kind of boring ever since. Huey needed something to pick at and be able to think about.

“Guys, I don’t know, Launchpad is the most open guy I know… If he won’t tell us, it must be something really personal to him…”

“I think you’re just upset that he won’t tell you. I don’t know, I agree with Huey. I mean, did you never think to question why Launchpad knew exactly how F.O.W.L. was set up? This could be really big… Huey, didn’t you say you thought his sleep talking was him warning us? If he’s still doing it, it must not just be a warning.” Louie said.

“No, because I also knew! I got us through because the base was laid out just like the Double-O-Duck game at Funso’s. I thought that’s why he knew…” Dewey trailed off, looking away. “Maybe there’s more to it… Okay, fine, I’m in!” He added with a dramatic sigh. “But we’re getting nowhere with this… How are we gonna make him tell us when he doesn’t want to?”

“We can interrogate him later. Right now, we should probably get back to the mansion. I think the others already left. Maybe we can invite Launchpad for dinner to put him in a better mood, and then we can catch him afterwards and pester him some more.” Louie suggested.

“Good idea. Alright, let’s go!” Huey said, jumping into the front seat.

“Hey!” Dewey cried before crossing his arms and dejectedly sitting in the back with Louie, who chuckled at his brother’s misfortune. A moment later, the second after they closed their doors, Launchpad pulled out and began to head back to the manor.

“Hey, LP, you should totally join us for dinner.” Dewey proposed as nonchalantly as the incredibly chalant duck boy could, looking out the window as they neared home.

Launchpad glanced back at Louie. “Uh… I dunno… I probably shouldn’t…”

“But you love having dinner with our family…” Louie said, trying to sound as whiny and disappointed as he could, channeling his inner Dewey as he made sure his puppy-dog eyes were visible in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, why not?” Huey tilted his head, getting as close to Launchpad as his seatbelt allowed him to.

“Please?” Dewey pleaded.

The combination of Dewey’s begging, Huey’s questioning, and Louie’s crocodilian facade seemed to finally crack Launchpad, and he gave a defeated sigh. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

The triplets cheered.

Launchpad glanced back at Louie. “Uh… I dunno… I probably shouldn’t…”

“Yeah, why not?” Huey tilted his head, getting as close to Launchpad as his seatbelt allowed him to.

“Please?” Dewey pleaded.

The combination of Dewey’s begging, Huey’s questioning, and Louie’s crocodilian facade seemed to finally crack Launchpad, and he gave a defeated sigh. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

The triplets cheered.

#ducktales #fanfiction

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 2 years ago

Text

The One I've Been Waiting For {Part 04 of 13}

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Older!reader

Word count: 2 K

Summary: Billy Hargrove is just one of the many students you're supposed to help. The last thing you expect from your interaction is that he'll start flirtt with you... Much less that Billy would stir up feelings you'd rather keep hidden. Despite the mutual sentiments that soon enough start to grow, there are a lot of reasons for whatever it is to be left alone, and one of them is your age...

<- Previous part (03)

Next Part (05) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

A/N: In this story, reader is 5 years older than Billy, who's 18.

•••

The Heart and the Mind

Billy's mind is a chaotic place. But this time is for a whole different reason. It's been a while since he got together with a girl, and he doesn't even miss it. He did think about it more than a few times, but every time he considers it... All he can think about is her.

“Billy!” Max suddenly yells, snapping him out of his thoughts. With an angry face, he glances at her.

“What the hell, shitface?”

“What's wrong with you? Why are you acting so weird?” Max asks, and he rolls his eyes, focusing on the road.

“I'm normal.” Shrugging his shoulders, Billy checks his face through the review mirror. There's nothing wrong with him.

“No, you're not. You're more stupid than usual. And less angry.” She goes on, and Billy runs a hand through his head before hanging an arm on the open window. “It looks like you have something in your head.”

“Max, shut the hell up.” He mutters, taking a deep breath. “Care about your own business and leave me alone.”

“Fine, whatever.” She mumbles.

He was just about to lash out at her again when he remembers what (Y/N) said. Billy was never too fond of Max, and he doesn't want her to be one more thing he has to care about. But they were both forced into each other's lives, and she also has to deal with Neil. Of course, she doesn't see the worst side of him, since she's Susan's daughter. But part of Billy, a tiny little part is happy she's not the one being beaten up. Thinking about it now, imagining Neil hitting Max, makes him angry. Furious.

“What about that shitty boyfriend you have?” He asks, eyes on the road.

“What about him?”

“Damn it, Maxine. Is he treating you ok? Because if he ever does anything I'll have to end his miserable life.” He's finally at the Elementary School, stopping the car. “We're family now, it doesn't matter how we feel about it, so if anyone screws up with you, it's my business too.”

“You're going crazy.” She mumbles before opening the door.

“Maybe I am.” He whispers to himself, ignoring how she pushes the door close.

Driving fast, he makes his way to Hawking High School for more endless hours of bullshit. Billy can't take this anymore, not here at least. He was never into school, but back in Cali, at least he was home, in a place he loved. But here, he has nothing.

Nothing but a girl stuck in his head. A girl whose smile is burned in his memory, that he plays back all the time. Billy acts like he doesn't have a heart, but (Y/N) certainly makes him feel as if it's beating again. Maybe for the first time in his life.

—————

You've been quite off the whole morning, not paying attention to anything. Lucky for you, today's class is just about the presentations of last month's projects, and since your group was the first one, you had the privilege of sitting in the back and letting your mind float away from this place.

The thing you don't want to think about is the only thing you think about. Or better said, the person.

Billy has been going through your mind on a daily basis, ever since you last met him when you went to the quarry. You did cross paths with him at school, and he was nice, asking how your day was. With kind eyes and a beautiful smile.

And now, the man has been constantly in your head. Night and day, even though you've been struggling not to. And you like thinking about him. You even miss him, looking down at you with those blue eyes.

“(Y/N),” Tanya calls, and you snap out of your thoughts, noticing that the class is over. “Where are you? You didn't even pay attention to the project's presentation.”

“Yeah, I...” Gathering your stuff, you follow Tanya outside. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nevermind, Tany. It's stupid.”

“Well–”

“How is my beautiful girlfriend doing?” The voice is quickly followed by a sudden hug. Liam has one arm around Tanya and the other around your shoulders. He kisses her before placing a kiss on your cheek. “And my beautiful bestie?” You wrinkle your noise at his word and the high pitched voice he usually uses.

“Your bestie has a boy in her head.” Tanya singsongs, and you roll your eyes. “I have to go to the restroom. Be right back.” Kissing Liam again, she waves at you and walks away.

“So you finally met someone you're interested in?” Liam asks as you move to one of the wooden benches set near the walls.

“Let's sit there.”

The wind is stronger than earlier today, making the tree's branches bend over. The campus is beautiful, and as you sit down, pulling your legs up, you watch as people come and go. The exposed skin of your shoulders makes you feel cold, but you ignore it. You like it here, it's far better than the one in Indianapolis. There's more nature, and the campus is full of trees and bushes, and even a garden on the East side. Things move slower here in Hawkings, but you like it.

“So? Who's this guy?”

“Liam, I need a guy's opinion on something.” Crossing your legs, you turn towards him.

“Bring it on.”

“How would you feel if Tanya was older than you?”

Liam furrows his eyebrows, getting a thoughtful expression for a while. He seems quite surprised by your question. “Well, if was still Tanya, I'd fall for her anyway.” He says, nodding to himself. “I mean, the dynamic would be different. Let's say that by her age she could have children or even an ex-husband. And the years of experience would probably make a gap in between us and if we're from different generations we'd like different things but–”

“Children and ex-husband?” You cut him off, not able to follow up with whatever he's saying.

“Yeah. The probabilities are that she'd at least have one past long-term relationship.”

Closing your eyes for a few seconds to gather your thoughts, you take a deep breath. “Liam, let me rephrase that. What if Tanya was, let's say... Five years older than you?” That's way too specific. “Would you still like her? Or even consider dating her?”

Liam gives you a look, raising one eyebrow. “Here I am, analyzing every aspect and challenge of a relationship with an age gap and you were speaking about five years?” You silently nod. “That's not even a gap. That's just a couple of years, no big deal.”

“It's just that... When the guy is older everyone finds it hot.” You start, looking down at your hands. You shouldn't even be talking about this, since Billy Hargrove isn't even a possibility. But this is just something you need to know, something you need someone else's opinion on. And Liam, being a guy, gives you a better perspective. “But when it's the other way around... People find it weird.”

“(Y/N), age is just a number.” He's still speaking when Tanya comes back, sitting next to him. “Correction. After eighteen, age is just a number. You're both adults and it doesn't matter what people say, only what you feel. And you don't even look your age, people wouldn't even spot the age difference.”

“What makes you think I'm talking about me?” You're quick to defend yourself, stuttering a little.

“Because you were way too specific for this to be a hypothetical situation or about someone else.” Liam exchanges a look with Tanya, who smiles.

“You know you don't have to hide things from us.” She says, reaching out a hand, which you hold. “We're here to help and support you. And if something happens between you and Billy we'll be happy for–”

“Nothing will happen.” Cutting her off, you sigh. “I just needed Liam's opinion on it. I was curious, that's all.”

“Look, the only problem I see with you getting into a relationship with Billy is his reputation.” Tanya starts, and Liam nods. They don't have much contact with Billy, but, like everyone who lives in Hawkins, they heard about him. “He's a bad boy, gets all the girls he wants, and throws them away when he's done. You're not into that kind of thing.”

“You're a hopeless romantic,” Liam adds.

“Exactly. So be careful.”

“I will.” You whisper, running a hand through your hair.

After another class, Tanya drives you to Hawkins High School where you attend this girl, Clarissa. A quick rain came and passed during the time you were with her in the classroom. But by the time you're done, the sun is trying to win over the thick, grey clouds taking over.

You're walking through the halls next to Clarissa, chatting. She's kind, and despite not being that good at Biology, you can see she's trying her best. “I'm way too nervous for this test. I need at least a C.”

“You'll do fine. I can make you a quiz if you want, to help you go over the topics again.” You offer as you move outside, the cold wind making you shiver.

“That would be amazing, thanks!” She cheers, giving you a quick hug before waving and heading to her car.

You go to the public phones since you need Tanya to pick you up. But after calling twice, you're almost giving up.

“Hey.” The sound makes you turn around, putting the phone back in place. Billy smiles, and you can't help but do the same.

“Hi.” You shyly say. “How have you been?” Talking to Billy is different now. You have ideas in your head, ideas you know you shouldn't have. “What are you doing here so late?”

“Basketball game.”

“Did your team win?”

“Of course.”

“That's great.” Taking the phone again, you try calling one more time. But she doesn't answer. “Shit.”

“Something wrong?”

“No, it's just–” Putting the phone back, you start walking, bracing yourself. “–Tanya was supposed to come for me but her telephone must be broken again.”

“Here,” Billy says, and when you look at him, you find the guy taking off his jacket.

“No, you don't have to–” He's already handing it over to you. “I'm alright, really.”

He doesn't say anything, and when it takes too long for you to move, Billy puts the jacket around your shoulders. You're immediately surrounded by warmth, and also his scent. It's familiar now, even though you don't spend too much time around him. But it makes you feel... Odd. In a good way.

“Thanks.” You whisper, stepping back and clearing your throat. “I gotta go now. Before the rain catches me.” With a little wave, you start walking again.

But Billy is quick to grab your arm, gently. “Do you really think I'll let you walk home with a storm coming?” As if to make his point clear, a distant thunder echoes.

“Billy...” You don't want to go with him. Being around Billy is dangerous, it brings out feelings you don't understand. Feelings you don't want to think about.

“(Y/N), C'mon. It's just a ride home.” The grip on your arm slips until he's holding your hand. It sends some kind of wave through your arm, like electricity.

You're moving before you notice, following him.

“Hey, Billy boy!” Someone shouts, and you give the guy a quick look before going for the passenger door. “Saturday at my place! It's gonna be wild, don't forget.”

“I won't.” He answers as you get inside, putting the seatbelt on. Billy is quick to settle down, turning the ignition. “Party on Saturday. Wanna come?”

“I can't. My group will come to my place to work on some papers.”

“Is it true or you just don't wanna go out with me?” Billy hits the street, and you struggle to deal with the anxiety. But it doesn't take much until you notice the... Normal speed. A lot different from last time.

“It's true.” You simply say, feeling yourself relaxing.

“So... Does that means you'd go out with me some other time?” Billy glances at you, and you feel your cheeks blushing.

You're supposed to say no immediately, make it clear this is just a ride home. That you're just... Friends. But why didn't the words come out? It would be so much easier... “Billy, you know we-”

“Mhmm, the age thing.” He cuts you off, a smirk in his voice. “Why don't you do the most simple thing?”

“Which is?”

“Ask if I care about it.” He's already staring when you look at him.

“Eyes on the road.” You warn him, and he smiles before complying. It's getting hard to deal with all this. Billy doesn't get out of your head, and you were hoping whatever this is, it would fade away. That time would help. But here you are again, with him, and all the walls separating between you are crumbling down... And you like it. You want to take them all down. But you are a thinker, and you're scared. None of the guys you were interested in before made you feel this way. But why now? Why Billy?

You just want to get home and stay the hell away from him and all the feelings he causes.

“Alright, Princess.” He sighs.

“Don't call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, do you?” You burst out, almost involuntary. Your heart and mind are at war, and both want to win.

Billy smiles, slowing down for the red light until he stops completely. Then, he looks at you, those blue eyes almost hypnotizing you. They're powerful... Or are you the one who's too weak?

“You're the only girl I ever met that I really want to know.” He says, voice low and deep, sending shivers down your spine. “So no. I don't give a damn about your age, Princess.”

You're frozen, still looking at him when someone blasts the horn, and you snap out, seeing that the light is green. “Some other time then... Maybe.” You whisper, clearing your throat and running a hand through your hair.

Your heart is beating fast, cheerful to know how he feels about it. But your mind... It tells you otherwise.

@aunicornmademedoit @alexa4040 @goth-cowgirl-03 @nyctophilic0vitnir @minispice-1

#stranger things imagine #imagine stranger things #billy hargrove imagine #imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove #billy stranger things imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfic

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ceo-of-rockopera · 26 days ago

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driving . rockopera

that may eventually be a one shot but not rn

dewey drives. erik even in the modern au is still accustomed to ceasar/never learned how to drive

don’t ask abt the logistics of a man who never goes outside learning how to ride a horse to begin with im as confused as we all are

dewey driving does not make him a Good driver

that one video of the woman saying “good luck everybody else!”

^ the last thing erik hears before dewey turns through 8 lanes of traffic

dewey thinks he’s so funny for it (erik has to HOLD ON every time

dewey’s driven enough that he’s more than safe just kinda reckless a lot of the time and that’s worse than having less experience

he got his license like. mid 20’s bc school of rock wasn’t the first time he’s been threatened to be kicked out if he didn’t get a job. it might’ve been the third atp

he got a job as a pizza delivery guy and ABSOLUTELY got fired for throwing the pizza at some jackass for not tipping him (tip workers guys)

his van is his baby tbh he’s not one of /those/ but he loves his car fs (I’m in love with my car by queen starts playing)

erik doesn’t mind it cause it’s easy to identify (more for the aesthetic of it (he loves his bf!!) not that he needs help remembering where they ever parked. it’s Dewey’s and he still relies on his bf to keep that in mind)

dewey teaching erik how to drive

he has the same amount of energy as a driving instructor than a band instructor but for entirely different reasons (he’s really interested in music vs he’s REALLY interested in staying alive)

that one driving instructor that tries and fails to have patience

and it’s both of their faults

bc Dewey’s just loud all the time which makes a very stressful environment

also forgetting things isn’t very good for a driving instructor

“turn right here... oh nvm left” ‘OH NVM LEFT????’

though erik is just not a good driver!!

he can shut down whenever dewey freaks out which is understandable but it’s not what you want when you’re going 10 over and on the wrong side of the road (not a good day for them)

#rockopera #phantom of the opera #dewey finn #rockopera ship #school of rock #headcanon #they will have fanfics eventually #I just don’t have the motivation rn #so here’s this #‼️

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gin-stan · 4 months ago

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Let's Go to Waffle House pt.2

Part 2 of my Jake Lockley x self ship

This is pt.2 reuploaded bc I got over my fear of writing in third and first person. I also updated some grammar and spelling mistakes.

Here's part 1

I start to chuckle, then break into full on laughter.

Jake looks at me amused. "What's so funny?"

I move a few steps ahead of him on the sidewalk and start towards the car. He follows behind, catching up to walk beside me. He maneuvers himself to the side where the street meets the sidewalk.

"I don't know, maybe finding out that you're practically a local celebrity, had no choice but to laugh." I said in between giggles.

He scoffs. "Oh, please, as if...I just know a lotta people and help a few of em out if I can."

"Hmhm, right," I laugh.

"What?" Jake says, trying to hold in a laugh himself.

"Nothing!" I said defensively. ".....it's just I didn't expect you to really be a people person is all."

He feigns offense clutching his invincible pearls.

He scoffs. "Oh, and please pray tell why that's surprising? I'm the nicest guy to anyone I meet."

"Guess I'm not anyone then," I say, playfully but testing the waters.

The both of us happen upon the car, and Jake's takes a few quick steps in front of me to open my door.

"Oh, thanks," I bend down and get in the car.

"Don't mention it."

He closes my door and strides around the front of the car to the drivers side, whistling some tune.

As I sit in the passenger side, I realize...he made me drive shotgun to my own car...again!

The driver door opens, and he settles in, but before I can bring up him taking over my car, he asks.

"What did you mean when you said, "Guess I'm not anyone then?" He says absentmindedly while adjusting the rear view mirror.

I pause and think for a second on my response.

"Ah- well, you're a strict man, to say the least. You've been pretty good at creating some distance between you and me. To be honest I didn't even think you fucked with me like that for real." I say nervously laughing.

There was a moment of awkward silence as he put on his seat belt. I follow his example. And he starts the car, putting it in reverse to back out.

He finally speaks up after a bout of silence. I assume he was thinking of what to say.

"Hmmmm, me? Strict? You've got the wrong guy, lady. Marc is way stricter than I am. Trust me." He says smugly.

He continues on.

"He perpetually has a stick up his ass about everything." He pulls out of the parking lot and makes it onto the road. Now, driving back to the apartment.

"I mean, you met him," he continues. "You should know all about it!" He says, chuckling a bit.

"I guess my experience with Marc is different than most, given our shared profession. I guess it was easier to get closer to him in a sense."

Jake hums in acknowledgment.

I use that as an excuse to continue.

"I remembered a lot of the things he'd tell me offhandedly. And I think he appreciated that." I say in introspection.

"Like when I invited him to that amusement park all because he said he went to one when he was little but hasn't been since." I added.

"Yeah, he appreciated it a lot even though he didn't really know how to say it at the time." Jake chimed in.

"I'm glad to hear that, he's a tough man to crack. I say, nodding.

"Oh, and that whole let's find you a hobby, escape me, and he went on bc he couldn't really tell me any hobbies he had." I say with a bit of a frown.

"We ended up finding out he likes more physical activities like hiking and rock climbing or things to do with his hands like wood carving." I say, a bit proud of the progress I've made in my friendship with Marc.

'Yeah, I know he either told me or I was "there" for some of it." He says with a know it all tone.

I look at Jake and realize I almost lost the plot, so I reel it in.

"The point is that I managed to crack Marc but not you. You tend to keep all of our conversations short and sweet, unlike with Marc, who's just not a very talkative person," I say, getting back on track.

"Yeah, well, I'm not Marc so-"

"Yeah, I know that I'm just-" I stop myself for a moment before I can dig myself deeper into a hole. Comparison is your own worst enemy. I think that's how it goes.

Jake glances at me, then back to the road, waiting for me to explain my point.

He sees me struggling to piece together a coherent argument and decides to lead the conversation.

"I kept our answers short and sweet because I was indifferent not because I didn't like me. You have to care to not like someone."

"...." My mouth tightened into a thin line.

He glances at me again and continues.

"Before, I was only cautious cause you being a mercenary would only bring problems if work followed you home."

"But Marc, knowing all too well how that feels, did all the leg work for me. They both knew you were a mercenary and didn't care. What could I possibly say at that point."

"What do you mean by he did all the leg work?" I asked suspiciously.

Jake paused. "Don't tell Marc I told you this, buuut he may or may not have ran a background check on you."

"Oh, for real?" I say surprised.

"Yeah," he looks at me from the corner of his eye to gauge my reaction.

Silence.

"So?" He asked

"So what?" I asked, confused.

"You're not mad?"

"Mad about what?"

"....The background check"

"Oh, that, I mean, should I be? It lowkey makes sense, not gonna lie. What's there to be mad about?" You asked lost on the point.

"Uh, I don't know, maybe the whole breaking one's trust and going behind one's back stuff, most people tend to get hung up on!?" Jake said, exasperated, waving his hands.

"I mean, I don't know, man. Seems kinda silly to get mad about." I responded.

"I mean, if what you said about Marc's work following him home is true, then like, yeah, a background check makes sense, right?"

"Don't want anyone coming in and fucking your shit up." I shrugged. "I do wanna say, the fact that me and Steven have been friends for 3 years should have given away that I ain't got any ill intentions."

"But then again, spies go and do reconnaissance for years at a time to get to their target. So like yeah I get it."

I say, shrugging, looking at him, then back to the road.

Jake hums. Whether it was in acknowledgment, agreement, or some secret third thing, I don't know.

The rest of the car ride was silent, completely forgetting the original point of the conversation.

The car stops as we've made it back to Steven's apartment, and I unbuckle my seatbelt, getting ready to step out, but then Jake says something.

"I don't hate you, if that's what you think.."

I pause thinking.

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

He asked, eyebrows raised.

"I mean, you don't go to Waffle House with people you hate, right?"

"Guess not..." Jake doesn't move, so I settle back in.

Silence seems to be a running theme between us two.

I decided to use this opportunity to ask a burning question of mine.

"How... do you feel about me then?" I asked.

"Don't know yet." He says a bit too nonchalantly.

"Oh.."

He stretches his neck to both sides of his shoulders, contemplating.

"I mean, you're not a bad person, but then again, this is me saying this, so I'm not really the model citizen here." He jokes.

"But I know that you don't intend to cause harm to the others, so...." He says it, like this is the first time he's truly thought about it. At least, in a way, he could explain it to others.

"I don't fully trust you yet, but the others do. But they also tend to trust too easily and end up getting burned later." He says with a bit of a scowl.

"Marc's a bit better at minimizing that, but Steven, well, you know. He loves hard, is all I can say." A small smile creeps up on his face, looking down at nothing.

"However, I have noticed that Steven has grown a lot in the past three years. Don't know if that's due to you or..." He trails off.

He looks back up at me, making eye contact and continuing. "Steven may have known you for three years, but I've only "known" you for a fraction of that time."

He sighs, exhausted. "The less you know about me, the better..." he says, looking off to the side, body slightly turned to me.

"Better for who? You or me?" I retorted.

"Me." he quickly fires back.

"Less stuff I have to explain and less people I have to worry about." he sighs.

"But.. you aren't going anywhere any time soon, and things are bound to go wrong to where I'll have to explain some things."

"Well, I'm glad you realized that I'm not going anywhere, but I can take care of myself so you don't need to worry about me." I say confidently.

"Oh, trust me, I'm not worried about you in the slightest," he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, rolling his eyes.

I couldn't figure out in time if he was being genuine or an asshole before he starts up again.

"Steven and Marc care about you, and if you get dragged into anything..." he cuts himself off seeing my annoyed expression.

He continues. Maintaining eye contact and putting emphasis on the next few words he's about to say.

"Regardless... if you can take care of yourself or not...." Using his hands to express the point.

I roll my eyes.

He continues. "If anything happens they'll get bent out of sorts and that's the last thing I need."

"Uh huh." I say monotone.

He looks at me, and I can see the gears turning in his head. He takes a deep sigh, rubbing his hand over his face.

Look, the point is, I dont got anything against you. And..maybe, indifference wasn't the word I was lookin for earlier."

"That so.." I said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Sorry..." he quickly apologizes, which throws me for a bit.

He tries to expand on his point. "But look, this," he points downwards. "was fun.

"And I wouldn't mind doing it again sometime." He adds.

"You keep good company, and it doesn't seem like you've got any intentions on hurting them," he says.

"You neither," I quickly respond.

"What?"

"I don't have any bad intentions for you, nor do I want to 'hurt' you, as you say," I said reassuringly.

"Right."

Sounds like he didn't really think of that part.

I look over to the side, then back at him.

"So,...Is that the only criteria you have when it comes to liking someone?" I say amused.

He tilts his head confused.

I continue.

"Like is the criteria you have when it comes to liking someone: "Must keep good company, you having fun, and not having ill intentions." You listed each example on my fingers as I went on.

There was a small pause before he spoke. It must've clicked that I was teasing him.

"...Haha, very funny," he says with a deadpan expression.

"For your information, it's only some of my criteria."

"Oh really, what's the rest?" I said, leaning in, more engaged.

He scoffs.

"Now, what would be the fun in tellin' you that?" he said with a cocky grin leaning in close, his forearm resting on the center console.

My brain short circuits due to the close proximity.

He then quickly exits the car, heading towards the apartment.

"What- hey!" I say and quickly run after him.

I quickly approach the apartment complex, opening the door to the building, I see him halfway up the stairs with his hands nestled in his jacket pockets.

I'm still standing at the bottom of the staircase, getting ready to ascend, when he suddenly then stops and turns around.

"Oh, almost forgot." He says to himself.

"Heads up!" He calls out and throws me my keys from his position on the stairs.

"Huh! Woah!" I managed to catch it with both hands even though I was caught a bit off guard.

"Oh, thanks."

I make my way up the steps and think to myself that it's probably around 5 A.M at this point.

I make it to the top of the stairs, happy they live on the second floor, and I see Jake masterfully find the keys to the apartment, despite having an ungodly amount of keys on the keyring.

He opens the door and strides in. I follow in behind him as he holds the door open for me, and once I'm in, he lets the door close behind me. He removes his, or actually Marc's shoes at the door, and I followed suit.

After Jake places the shoes neatly by the door, he notices Gus's fish tank, and he walks over to check in on him and the rest of his buddies. I can see two other goldfish with varying proportions, who're meant to keep Gus company while their owners are away.

Jake crouches down, looking at the three inhabitants swim around each other playfully.

"Alright, you three, feeding time," he says, not really expecting an answer back. Jake grabs the fish food that was sitting on the top of the tanks' lid and sprinkles enough in for all three.

He places it back in its previous spot and watches them quickly swim towards the falling flakes.

Me, still at my spot planted at the front door, observes the man going about his business. I conclude this might be his usual routine after his shift ends.

I then noticed the bloody clothes he left on the floor before we left, and I'm reminded about how this all started in the first place.

I really want to ask why he was in such a shitty mood earlier, but I don't want to ruin the good moment, so I leave it be for now.

I look back over at him as he notices the bloody clothes the same time as I did. He stands up from his crouching position at the tank and walks over to the pile he left behind in a flurry.

He stares at the pile with contempt as if he's reliving whatever happened earlier that night. And I'm worried he's just gonna get mad at him all over again, but no, he just sighs and calmly picks up each article of clothing one by one. Quickly moving to take them to the laundry basket.

I look back at the spot where the clothes were carelessly thrown about..no blood stains on the wood paneling, win for my eyes and Marc's wallet.

He comes back after removing his jacket and cabbie hat and flops down on the couch, one leg sprawled out to the other end of the couch and the other lazily falling off the edge.

He finds the remote and then turns on the TV, flipping through the channels absentmindedly.

"You just gonna stand at the door all morning?" He says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Oh right"

I then enter further into the apartment and stand at the end of the couch, not sure what to do next.

I contemplate asking another one of my burning questions.

And just as if he was reading my mind, Jake speaks.

"If there's something you want to ask, then ask it," he says bluntly.

Now that the opportunity presents itself, I decide against asking anything about what happened earlier tonight and instead ask:

"You never gave me a clear answer on how you felt about me." I say, taking a seat on the arm of the couch.

He looks at me a bit surprised, expecting a different response.

"I gave you my answer, remember," he said in a mocking tone.

" 'I don't know yet?' Was that your answer?" I said mimicking his tone of voice.

"Sure." He shrugged, keeping his eyes glued to the TV.

I looked at him, annoyed.

"I don't like that answer."

"Too bad cause it's the only one I have for you," he points out.

"Well, what about all that extra stuff you said about me being good company and you wanting to protect Marc and Steven. And all that other stuff, " I say, prodding the issue.

"What about it?" he finds a channel of mild interest.

I sigh, not even sure where I'm going with this anymore.

"Well, let me know when you do find out," I relented.

"Willll do" he says flippantly, giving me a thumbs up.

I decided I'm too wide awake at this point to go back to sleep, so I vote to watch TV as well. Well....watch whatever Jake decides to watch, which seems to be a.... Telenova...

I suppose I could use context clues to figure out what's going on.

Finding the arm rest to be a little too uncomfortable, I stand up and decide to find a spot on the floor to sit.

But before I could sit down, I noticed Jake bending his legs, leaving enough space for me to sit down.

I don't know if it was coincidence or purposeful, but I took the opportunity and grabbed the pillow that was lying there and took a seat, settling it in my lap.

I turn my attention to the TV and tune in.

...15 minutes have gone by, and I have no idea what's going on.

Jake glances over at me and sees the dumb look of confusion on my face.

He laughs to himself quietly.

"We can watch somethin else if you want." He says aloud, attention split between me and the TV.

"Huh-" my head turned towards him, now snapped out of my intense focus.

"Oh, no you're good, nothing is on at this time anyway, besides like Judge Judy or Law & Order." I then turn back to the TV intent on putting my subpar Spanish skills to the test.

He sees me struggling and thinks to himself before speaking.

"Then how about I give you a run down on what's happening? These types of shows have multiple plot points going on at once, so if you just hop in, you'll be confused."

I turn my head to him once more and ponder his offer.

"Hmm if you want to, I guess, if it's not too much trouble." I say shrugging my shoulders.

"Great, you see that woman in the red dress?" he points to the woman on the TV matching his description.

I nod.

"Her name is Grace. She's sleeping with that woman's fiance and-"

This goes on until all hours of the morning. I was privy to the ever expanding lore, including a secret twin reveal, faking one's death, secret love children returning for revenge, and a whole plethora of other messy plot lines.

And I hang on to every word.

For a trip to Waffle House, it was quite the experience.

#marvel moon knight #moon knight fanfic #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockley x me #jake lockley #self insert #self insert fanfiction #self ship fanfiction #self shipping #self ship #moon knight jake lockley

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