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#borhap cast imagine
rossmccallsqueen · 1 year
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I have a Joe imagine being posted tomorrow. I know it’s my first in a long time. I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long guys, but I’m starting to feel like me again ❤️
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softspaceboibrian · 2 years
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softspaceboibrian MASTERLIST
hello, lovelies! this is everything I've ever published here on tumblr, or at least it should be. enjoy! <3
Ted Lasso
Jamie Tartt
The Heart Wants What It Wants
Fell in Love with the Fire Long Ago || A Jamie Tartt Story
Prologue
Chapter 1
Stranger Things
Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy || Eddie Munson I have a taglist for this, so if you would like to be added, please let me know!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
more to come....
Marvel
Eternals
He would never admit it || Druig
X-Men
Nightmares || Warren Worthington III (Angel)
You Over Everything Else || Warren Worthington III (Angel)
Queen & Bohemian Rhapsody cast
Journeys End in Lovers Meeting (Professor!Gwilym Lee x student)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Kisses Series
Gwilym Lee: Unspoken Feelings
Ben Hardy: A Goddess Among Men 
John Deacon: Reading Session
Ben Hardy
My Girl
Long Enough
Private After After Party (smut)
Golden Slumber
One More Present
Wouldn’t Have It Any Other Way
With A Little Help From My Friends
Gwilym Lee
Roll With It
The Rest of My Life
Roger Taylor
Bad Habit (song fic)
Rog and the Flying TVs
Our Castle
Brian May
You Need to Relax (smut)
Headcanons
Valentine’s day 
Imagine being the daughter of a Queen member
BoRhap boys’ as dads
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bohemianboynton · 2 years
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A little snippet I’ve just written. Choose your favorite Borhap cast member!
I'll continue to work on requests when I'm not working, too. I'm also a bit happier now, if anyone wanted to know! So the motivation to write shall come back, albeit slowly.
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Rami
Imagine you and Rami getting all dressed up for an event. He’s wearing a suit and tie, and you’re wearing a skin tight red dress that goes to your calves. His back is turned to you as he looks in the mirror to adjust his tie. Upon you seeing him, you walk over. He sees you in the mirror's reflection and turns around.
“Hey, handsome,” you say as you grab his tie and pull him lightly across the hall.
Your lips crash into his and you make out passionately for a solid minute, your arms wrapped against his neck and his hands glued to your sides, until you hear wheels down the hall.
You look to the side and see your baby in her walker, rolling down towards the both of you, stopping beside you and Rami, looking up.
Rami stops kissing you and looks to the side. He smiles and bends down to pick her up out of the walker, holding her against his side.
Gwilym
Imagine you and Gwilym getting all dressed up for an event. He’s wearing a suit and tie, and you’re wearing a skin tight red dress that goes to your calves. His back is turned to you as he looks in the mirror to adjust his tie. Upon you seeing him, you walk over. He sees you in the mirror's reflection and turns around.
“Hey, handsome,” you say as you grab his tie and pull him lightly across the hall.
Your lips crash into his and you make out passionately for a solid minute, your arms wrapped against his neck and his hands glued to your sides, until you hear wheels down the hall.
You look to the side and see your baby in her walker, rolling down towards the both of you, stopping beside you and Gwilym, looking up.
Gwil stops kissing you and looks to the side. He smiles and bends down to pick her up out of the walker, holding her against his side.
Joe
Imagine you and Joe getting all dressed up for an event. He’s wearing a suit and tie, and you’re wearing a skin tight red dress that goes to your calves. His back is turned to you as he looks in the mirror to adjust his tie. Upon you seeing him, you walk over. He sees you in the mirror's reflection and turns around.
“Hey, handsome,” you say as you grab his tie and pull him lightly across the hall.
Your lips crash into his and you make out passionately for a solid minute, your arms wrapped against his neck and his hands glued to your sides, until you hear wheels down the hall.
You look to the side and see your baby in her walker, rolling down towards the both of you, stopping beside you and Joe, looking up.
Joe stops kissing you and looks to the side. He smiles and bends down to pick her up out of the walker, holding her against his side.
Ben
Imagine you and Ben getting all dressed up for an event. He’s wearing a suit and tie, and you’re wearing a skin tight red dress that goes to your calves. His back is turned to you as he looks in the mirror to adjust his tie. Upon you seeing him, you walk over. He sees you in the reflection and turns around.
“Hey, handsome,” you say as you grab his tie and pull him lightly across the hall.
Your lips crash into his and you make out passionately for a solid minute, your arms wrapped against his neck and his hands glued to your sides, until you hear wheels down the hall.
You look to the side and see your baby in her walker, rolling down towards the both of you, stopping beside you and Ben, looking up.
Ben stops kissing you and looks to the side. He smiles and bends down to pick her up out of the walker, holding her against his side.
Lucy
Imagine you and Lucy getting dressed up for an event. She's wearing a white dress with black lace that goes to her shoes, and a pearl necklace and earrings to match, and you’re wearing a skin tight red dress that goes to your calves. Her back is turned to you as she looks in the mirror to put on her earrings. Upon seeing her, you walk over. She sees you in the reflection and turns around.
“Hey, gorgeous,” you say as you grab her necklace and pull her lightly across the hall.
Your lips crash into hers and you make out passionately for a solid minute, your arms wrapped against her neck and her hands glued to your sides, until you hear wheels down the hall.
You look to the side and see your baby in her walker, rolling down towards the both of you, stopping beside you and Lucy, looking up.
Lucy stops kissing you and looks to the side. She smiles and bends down to pick her up out of the walker, holding your daughter against her side.
If any other cast members (like Allen, Priya, and Aaron) you like aren't here, feel free to imagine them in the main cast's places! And imagine the baby as a boy if you want, too! Either way, it's all cute and good!
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I just red your Ben fic and omggg I loved it! I’m such a history nerd it was like both my worlds colliding😭😭 but like imagine Ben or bohap cast in HOTD/GOT??? PERFECTION (just like your writing, seriously you get me through my days!!)
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I’m so glad you enjoyed WWSDYTS, bestie!!! 😍 I was a history major in college and am a (sometimes) teacher of history now and I just love love love history. I published a journal article related to Russian history several years ago and that definitely ended up informing this fic. A BoRhap/HOTD crossover would be EPIC 😍 Ben has such Lannister energy hahaha. Thank you so much for reading 🥰💜
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manndo · 3 years
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good news all around [ben hardy x reader]
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gif credit
pairing[s]: ben hardy x reader
warning[s]: pregnancy (not sure if that’s a warning, but i am putting it out there just in case)
word count: 1.4k
prompt[s]: “well that’s the second biggest news I’ve heard all day” from this list.
summary: ben’s has come home and told you some big news. well, you have even bigger news for him.
author’s notes: alright, so wow. i haven’t posted a fic in well, in forever. this one has been waiting in my drafts to get edited, which i have now finally gotten around to. so yea, here we go! i do not know the process that is involved in how actors get gigs, when they can read a whole script, etc. so, i apologize for any errors in that department. also, in this fic, the reader and ben have been together since before Bohemian Rhapsody. this is my first ben hardy fic. crossing my fingers that you guys like it. if you do, comments/reblogs/likes are greatly appreciated. thanks for reading. all mistakes are my own. sending you all my love during this time!! ❤️
“Babe?”
“Bedroom!” You yelled back, smiling to yourself as stood in the doorway of your ensuite, eyes staring down at the two tests in your hand. Two pink lines. Positive. Pregnant. You couldn’t help the excitement that was flooding your veins, and settling into your bones.
You and Ben had been trying (as in “going at it practically every night — and day — the two of you could spare” trying) for almost eight months. You’d already taken 2 tests, with no positive in sight. So, though you hoped that this test wouldn’t be negative, you braced yourself the possibility. But this time, it was different. This time, after you’d taken the test and waited the allotted time, there were two lines. Two lines. Pregnant. Immediately, you took the second test you’d bought (just in case), and got the same result — positive. You were finally pregnant.
“Babe?” You quickly tossed the test on the counter next to the other one and stepped out of the ensuite to find a frazzled looking Ben standing in the doorway of your bedroom. There was a grin a mile wide on his face, and his hair, which was always perfectly styled when he left the house, was in disarray. His blue eyes were sparkling with glee, and you could practically feel him buzzing with excitement across the room. For a split second, you wondered if he somehow knew your news, but that was ridiculous. There was no way Ben could know.
“Ben, what’s going—”
“I got it.” You furrowed your brows in confusion. “I got the gig!”
It took another second before you finally realized what he was taking about. “You mean—”
You didn’t think Ben’s grin could get bigger or brighter, but some how it did. “Yep, that’s the one!”
The one — the World War II film that was to be directed by Steven Spielberg. Ben had been talking about it for what seemed like forever. He had spent hours pouring over the script once he’d gotten it, practically memorized it — even the parts that weren’t his — backwards and forwards. Though, Ben always enjoyed the roles he had gotten, you hadn’t seen him this jazzed about a project since Bohemian Rhapsody. Hell, he wanted this so bad that you could almost taste it, so to speak. And now, he’d gotten it. He’d gotten it. 
You felt your face light up in joy for the second time in the last twenty minutes. “You got it?”
Ben nodded so rapidly you thought he was gonna break his neck. “Got the call right before I pulled in. Can you believe it?” he said, laughter escaping his lips.
“Of course I can!” you exclaimed and bolted toward him, engulfing him in your arms the moment you were close enough, and burying your face in his broad chest. You felt and heard a small chuckle escape his lips as his arm encircled your waist and squeezed, holding you almost as tight as you were holding him. You squeezed a little more. “You’re amazing, Ben,” you said, voice slightly muffled by his chest. You pulled away, and looked at Ben, both of you still smiling. “You worked so hard for this, babe. I’m just—” you stopped. You released your hold on Ben’s midsection, only to reach out and grab his face with both hands. “God, I’m just so fucking proud of you,” you said before easing yourself up on your tip toes and capture Ben’s lips in a searing kiss. Ben easily returned the kiss. For a few moments, you were lost in each other, before finally, you pulled away, and lowered yourself to your original height. You flashed him a wicked grin. “Well, that’s the second biggest news I’ve heard all day.”
Ben’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Second biggest?” You nodded, letting your hands fall from Ben’s face to his chest. You gave him a gently push and tried to step away. You didn’t get far, but Ben seemed to get the hint and unwrapped his arms from around your waist. “What are you talking about?”
You said nothing, just continued to grin as you took two steps away from him. Ben mirrored your movement, moving forward two steps. “Love, what are you—”
“Just—” you started, but stopped. Instead, you held up held up a finger, signaling for him to give you a minute as you took another step back. Ben said nothing. Immediately, you turned on your heel, and made a beeline toward the bathroom. You blindly grabbed for one of the tests, and whipped it behind your back before stepping back into the bedroom. Ben still looked adorably confused as you came to stand a foot away from him.
“Babe—”
You brandished the test from behind your back and held it in front of him. Ben’s eyes moved from your face to the test. You watched, still grinning like a fool, as his eyes focused on the test. A few seconds ticked by before his blue eyes widened. A look of shock and awe appeared on his face, before his eyes focused back on you.
“You’re—”
You nodded your head rapidly, your eyes never leaving Ben’s. “We’re gonna have a baby,” you said, excitement laced through every word.
Ben grinned. “We’re gonna have baby!” There was a momentary pause before you were engulfed in his strong arms and hoisted off the ground.
“Benjamin!” you squealed in surprise, test clattering to the floor as you quickly grabbed on to his shoulders. Ben said nothing, spinning you around instead as he laughed. You couldn’t help but laugh with him as he spun you not once, but twice, before coming to a halt. Yours and Ben’s laughter had died down, but as you looked down at Ben, you could see the unbridled joy in his bright blue eyes. You could even see them shimmering with unshed tears. You felt tears of your own prickling at the back of your eyes. 
“We’re gonna have a baby,” he repeated, his voice soft, but still filled with awe.
You nodded. Gently, Ben set you down, and unwrapped his arms from around your waist, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he stepped closer, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against yours. A happy little sigh escaped Ben’s lips as his eyes fell closed. You followed suit. “I’m gonna be a dad,” he said, barely above a whisper. “And you’re gonna be a mum.” A pause. “We’re gonna be parents.”
You felt yourself smiling. “I like the sound of that,” you said, your voice equally as quiet.
Another moment of silence passed.
“Shit,” Ben cursed, breaking you out of the moment. Your eyes flew open as Ben pulled away from you. You could see panic in his eyes, and you wondered, was he already regretting this? The two of you had planned, and agreed, but was he already changing his tune? Your heart plummeted into your stomach.
“Ben—”
“What about the gig? It starts in a two months, and we’re gonna be shooting for at least three months—”
You felt a relief was over you, your worst fear being vanquished. “Ben,” you said softly, reaching out and laying a hand on his chest, over his heart. His blue eyes looked at you, still a little too wild for your taste. “Ben, sweetheart,” you said again, trying to pull his full attention to you as you rested one hand on his cheek. “We’ll figure it out.”
“But I—”
“We’ll figure it out,” you repeated softly, but sternly, determined. “We have some time to figure it, and we will. Let’s just, enjoy the moment, alright?”
“What if I miss something. What if I’m not there—”
“Benjamin Jones.” You put your hands on your hips and gave him a hard stare. “If you don’t stop talking right this second, I will throw you out of this house. Pregnant or not, I will do it.”
Ben opened his mouth. “I—”
You raised an eyebrow, your eyes daring him to keep going. There was a brief pause, Ben’s mouth hanging open, before he slowly let it close. You smiled triumphantly, and let your hands fall from your hips. “Good. Now that that’s settled.” A sly smile appeared on you lips. “Let’s go and clean that spare bedroom, shall we?”
“The spare bedroom?”
“Well, we need a nursery, don’t we?” You asked, as if it should be obvious, and turned on your heel.
“That place is a mess, love!”
“I know,” you replied back, your voice a little higher pitched, a little sing-song even. 
“Babe!” Silence. “You said we had time!”
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angrylizardjacket · 4 years
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i’ll be in the front row {Joe Mazzello}
Anon asked: lil prompt I thought of while doing my laundry: imagine meeting Joe while you’re both doing your laundry at a laundromat. it’s nyc, so apartments with full wash & dryer are hard to come by. joe is always running lines with himself, and you both sometimes loan each other quarters when one of you runs out.
Anon asked: tbh I don’t have anything specific to request, but I am begging you to please write more for Joe. srsly you write him so well & he deserves more content!!! 🐚 
A/N: 3269 words. my little garbage brain had to yell at me not to write this like the laundry scene from Dr Horrible. BIG FLUFF. set around undrafted. hope you enjoy. PLEASE leave feedback!! i love this so so very much omfg.
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You always see him on Sundays, eleven in the morning, like clockwork. Dark sunglasses, fancy backpack, but nondescript clothes; sweater and jeans, baseball jersey and jeans, laundry day clothes if you’ve ever seen them. He’s a little familiar, but you’re not sure why. Sometimes he’s wearing a cap, but not with any sort of consistency, at least not in the six months since you’d been coming there. 
For the record, you’re not staring, he’s the only person who comes in at the exact same time as you, give or take fifteen minutes, and he, like you, always waits for his laundry. It’s only been in the past few months that you’d even started recognizing each other, smiling and giving the other a wave across the machines. It’s harmless, it’s people watching, it’s routine.
One morning, he’s sitting on his washing machine, with a pen in his mouth and a stack of papers in one hand. His usual sunglasses are propped up on his head, which isn’t an unusual occurrence when he reads - is it weird that you know that? Kind of. He’s highlighting something, mouthing whatever he’s reading too fast for you to catch, and anyways, you’re trying not to stare. You’re half paying attention to a kitschy game on your phone since your washing is almost done, and you heave your damp clothes into the dryer.
“Damnit,” patting your pockets again, and searching through your change, you can’t help but scowl and come to an annoying conclusion. All you have is a fifty, and the change machine in the laundromat only spits out quarters.
“You okay?” It’s the guy with the script, your quiet laundry buddy, looking at you with slight concern, pen still in his mouth.
“Yeah,” you huff a sigh, putting on a strained smile, “two quarters short for the dryer.” Usually you had smaller bills, or just remembered to bring the right change, “can you watch my stuff while I go to the gas station to get change?”
“I can cover two quarters,” he offers easily with a slight smile, pulling the pen from his mouth and putting it, the highlighter, and the stack of papers, onto the dryer after he jumps from it. You stumble through trying to brush him off and refuse graciously, but he’s already elbow-deep in his backpack, telling you it’s no trouble.
“I owe you,” you say with half a laugh, and he shares in your amusement.
“Yeah, I’ll hold you to that,” he replies with an amiable sarcasm, which has you laughing. After you start the dryer, however, you turn back and he’s regarding you with a frown, leaning on the washing machine with his stuff in it.
“Do I have something on my face?” You ask with surprising uncertainty, and he’s quick to clear the frown from his face as he shakes his head.
“No, it’s just kind of weird that we’ve been coming here for so long but never... like, spoken.” He muses, and you feel yourself growing surprised. He offers his hand. “Joe.”
“Y/N,” you say, shaking his hand firmly, and he quietly repeats your name back to himself, like he’s committing it to memory. Something warms in your chest, and you can’t help but look at the stack of papers he’d been focusing intently on, “may I ask what you’re working on?” And he looks confused for the barest moment, quickly followed by excitement, and then what you recognize as him very deliberately restraining that excitement into something more polite.
“It’s a script,” and he kind of sounds... apologetic?
“And...?” You prompt, before backpeddling, “I mean, if you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine, I mean we technically just met -” and he’s waiving you off goodnaturedly.
“No, I know, I know,” he assures, “I just... another white guy writing a script in New York?” He makes a face, “get a real personality, am I right?” He laughs self-deprecatingly, but it seems to hit a little too close to home for him, and his expression falls. It’s a sentiment he’s been on the receiving end of far too many times.
“What’s it about?” You ask, gentle and genuinely curious, and his eyebrows raise in surprise as he meets your gaze. Tentatively hopeful, he explains that he’s on the fourth draft of it, that it’s loosely based on his brother’s experiences trying to make it into the Major Leagues in baseball. Most of it goes over your head, but you can’t help but be intrigued. 
“I’m not super big into baseball,” you admit as he’s winding down, “but it sounds awesome, dude; let me know when it’s in theaters and I’ll be in the front row.” He grins at that.
You exchange phone numbers a month later, the pair of you getting take out at the fast food joint across the road from the laundromat, so you could still at least keep somewhat of an eye on your clothes. He’s in between drafts of the script, and they’re actually in preproduction, and you realise oh, he’s actually serious about this.
“See, that’s the difference,” you tell him, leaning your elbows on the table and pointing a finger at him, “the difference is that you follow through.”
“What?” He laughs, not yet following your train of thought.
“Every other white guy in New York could write a script, but none of them would follow through and get it made; you’re ambitious, Joe.”
“I’m not ambitious, I’m just lucky,” he shrugs, a blush creeping up his cheeks, but you won’t let it slide.
“Luck will only get you so far,” you tut, and he gives you a strange look.
“Have you... never seen Jurassic Park?”
“When I was younger,” you shrugged.
“Or The Social Network?”
“I’ve really been meaning to, why?” 
“No reason,” Joe shakes his head with a disbelieving grin, and doesn’t bring it up again.
A few weeks later, he’s late by almost a full half an hour, which you’re not particularly bothered by, you get the impression that he’s a busy guy, but he runs in, laundry basket in hand, apologizing breathlessly. 
“No need to apologise,” you tell him with a bright smile, putting your phone away, “everything okay?”
“Budget meeting ran late,” he explains, gracelessly lumping his clothes into the washing machine and throwing a few tide pods in along with them, “filming’s so close, I just lost track of time.”
“Oh, shit really? Wait have you already cast it?” You asked with a surprisingly genuine excitement; over the weeks, you’ve become rather invested in this project.
“Yeah, didn’t I tell you?” He asked with a grin, “casting was finalized two weeks ago; we start rehearsals next Saturday.”
“That’s so exciting!” You enthused, before laughing, “anyone I’d recognize?” And it’s mostly a joke, but Joe gives pause, evaluating you before he pushes start on his washing machine.
“I don’t know,” he answers genuinely, before conceding, “I mean, apart from me -”
“Acting, writing, and directing; does that make you a triple threat?” You asked coyly, and he breaks out into grin.
“And producing,” he reminds, and you make an impressed noise, nodding.
“Quadruple threat, excuse me.”
“But honestly, I don’t know if you’d recognize them; do you know,” and he goes back to the topic at hand, frowning a little, “Aaron Tveit?” You’re a little speechless, before answering.
“Not personally,” you find yourself answering, which gets Joe to laugh, “shit, dude, from Broadway?” And Joe’s wearing a proud little smile when he nods in confirmation, “and the Les Mis movie?”
“The very same,” Joe agrees, and your mouth hangs agape, “I told you, this is a real movie, I’m not filming this in my backyard,” after a beat, he licks his lips and jumps to sit on the washing machine, “have you seriously never googled me?”
“Why would I?” You asked, and he huffs a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head again in that way that you don’t quite understand. “Should I?” You finally ask, and Joe shrugs, smiling bright and carefree. He’s even swinging his legs, ankles crossed.
“I’m not a murderer, if that’s what’s got you worried,” he muses with a surprisingly carefree grin, “I mean, I’m kind of glad that you haven’t, it means you actually like me for me, you know?”
“Of course I do,” you answer automatically, and Joe’s expression turns fond, “I really like you, dude,” you explain, “I’m kind of in awe of what you’re accomplishing.” And you mean it with your whole heart, “if you’d prefer I didn’t google you, I won’t; I don’t make a habit of googling my friends, I won’t start with you.” When you say this, something about him relaxes, and he hops off the washing machine.
“Wanna grab lunch?” He asks with a smile, which you mirror without hesitation, and agree.
They’re filming out of state, which Joe tells you the week before he leaves, and you hadn’t realised how much you would miss him until the first Sunday rolls around, and you’re sitting in the laundromat alone.
Your phone goes off with a notification at exactly eleven.
It’s a photo of Joe and Aaron Tveit in baseball jerseys, covered in dirt, grinning.
[HOLY SHIT] you send back, following it up with [IS THAT] and then you wait a moment before adding [QUADRUPLE THREAT JOE MAZZELLO??] 
[christ 😳😅🥰] he sends back, and something about his restrained but still obviously flustered response has your heart skip a beat. [is it weird that i miss the laundromat?]
[yes 😂]
[and you of course i miss you too] he’s quick to follow it up with, and your own smile grows wider. You take a photo of the empty laundromat and draw in a terrible stick figure impression of him and send it back.
[miss u too haha] and you give pause before sending [hey if u ever wanna send other prod photos.......] [u don’t just have to send them on sunday]
[you haven’t signed an NDA 😂]
[joseph who am i gonna tell??]
[your other friends idk]
[my lips are ZIPPED 🤐] [photos for personal use only]
[personal use????? 😘😘]
[dont be GROSS]
[but i wanna be gross!!]
So now you’re flustered in the middle of the laundromat, completely at a loss as to how to respond to that. 
[are u flirting with me joseph?] you send back, and you watch the three little typing dots as they hover for a very long time.
[only if you’re into it]
Oh. 
[the FIRST WEEK YOU’RE AWAY FROM THE LAUNDROMAT AND YOU’RE PULLING THIS SHIT] [i AM into it but fuck 😳😅]
[I’VE BEEN FLIRTING WITH YOU FOR WEEKS]
Oh!
[OH]
[THE FIRST WEEK I’M AWAY FROM THE LAUNDROMAT AND YOU FINALLY PICK UP ON IT???]
[go direct ur baseball movie 🥰😅] you send, and tuck your phone away, feeling rather like a fool, but a pleased fool nonetheless, and you’re grinning for the rest of the day.
Photos are exchanged often after that, usually selfies, or photos of where either of you were, what you were doing, the flirting turning absolutely less subtle with each day that passes until you’re just complimenting each other, and mentioning occasionally how you miss the other.
When he sends a photo of himself posing against the fence of the dugout in a way that showed off his ass, you can’t help but make it your lock screen, though it’s quickly followed by a video and a text that reads [i was told i have to send you this too,,, for context].
“This feels undignified,” says a strangely familiar voice from off-screen, presumably filming, while Joe was trying to ask for opinions on how he should pose.
“This is undignified,” comes someone else’s response, and the camera swings around to reveal an amused Tyler Hoechlin, opening a water bottle, “this Y/N must be real cute.” In the background, a few others, vaguely recognizable, all in baseball uniforms, snicker.
“They are!” Joe answered defiantly, grinning, one leg up against the wire, looking over his shoulder, “are you filming me?” The camera flips around and you get a pretty glorious angle directly up Aaron Tveit’s nose.
“No -”
The video stops abruptly, and you’re all but wheezing with laughter, though all you send back is;
[so worth it] [ur ass *chef’s kiss*]
[THANK YOU] [you get it] [knew there was a reason i liked you so much]
The moment he gets back to New York, he asks you out to dinner. Of course you say yes.
For your third date, he offers to cook you dinner, and watch a movie, prefaced with a question that you’re surprised he still asks; have you really not googled me? And the honest answer you always give: no.
His apartment has a lot of movie posters, of movies you’ve heard of but never seen, or seen when you were very little.
“Big movie buff, obviously,” you note with a little smile, and he raises his eyebrows in amusement at your observation. Even moreso when you excitedly coo about how you haven’t seen Jurassic Park in so long when he suggests it.
“Your self restraint is godlike, babe,” he snickers, and you’re not quite sure what he means, you’re kind of just happy to be here. 
He cooks dinner, and you both sit down in front of his alarmingly big TV, and you feel a warm rush of nostalgia at the opening. You’re eating quietly, watching with rapt attention, but you can feel Joe watching you expectantly. 
“What’s up?” You ask, turning to him, confused, and his smile grows a little wider, and his gaze flicks to the screen for a moment, and then back to you.
“Just waiting for it to click.”
“For what to click?” 
“Babe,” and he says it like he can’t quiet believe it, his gaze now focused on the screen where the kids, Tim and Lex, were being introduced, “that’s me.” And follow his gaze and holy shit. A lot of things start making a lot more sense.
He’s not sure what he’s expecting your reaction to be, but the way your face lights up, and the unbridled enthusiasm and compliments that pour out of you, was not it, but he’s definitely not complaining. 
“Wait!” Your eyes sparkle as you look around his apartment, the movie posters he had everywhere now having a completely different meaning, “all these...?”
“Every single one,” he agrees, a little abashed, suddenly humble, and you grin when you finally look back at him.
“I didn’t think I could be more awed by you, but dude,” you enthused, “that’s cool as hell! You’re cool as hell!” But you take a deep breath, putting your plates onto the coffee table, sitting as close to him as you could, “but I would have thought the world on you even if you hadn’t done any of this,” and he tries to brush it off, but you’re adamant, “no, I mean it, I like you for you, Joe, not for what you’ve done, but... for who you are.”
“You’re gonna make me blush,” he shoots for serious, but misses entirely thanks to his pleased little smile.
“Good,” you tell him seriously, and kiss both of his pink cheeks before kissing him. Your dinner might get a little cold after that, but you can always reheat it. 
You comfort him over the weeks it takes to edit him film, Undrafted, though he’ll never let you see too much of the final product; he wants you to see it in cinemas first.
It’s still kind of surreal to you that Joe Mazzello is both a movie star, and your boyfriend. He’s still friends with Laura Dern, and he also spends eight dollars a week at a laundromat to wash his clothes. Bizarre. But you kind of like how down-to-earth he is. 
What’s more bizarre is when he invites you to the red carpet premiere of his movie.
“Me?” You squeaked, and he seemed a little confused at your hesitation, his hands on your shoulders.
“You,” he nodded slowly, not understanding why you’re suddenly nervous.
“For real?”
“Yeah, of course I want you there; you said so yourself, you’d be in the front row, right?” He smiled a little and you could feel your heart melt.
“You remember that?”
“Of course I do,” he tells you gently, “it’s one of the reasons I liked you in the first place.” He’s so earnest; you agree easily.
The red carpet is a whole other world, you find, dressed to the nines, styled by someone you don’t know, cameras flashing in your face -
“Is this Y/N?” Tyler Hoechlin is saying your name. What universe is this? Joe was blushing furiously with his arm around you as the cast made their way over.
“Finally, a face for a name,” and that’s Aaron Tveit; you have to remind yourself not to get star struck. Instead, you smile and offer your hand to them both, which they shake, smiling and greeting you warmly. 
“Don’t embarrass me, you assholes,” Joe warned, though his tone was amused, and the others chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mister Director,” Aaron assured.
“You’re good at doing that on your own,” Tyler added, and Joe gave him the finger, but held you a little tighter. 
“Did he send you the video of when he asked me to take that photo? You know the one,” Aaron asked, and you straightened your posture, grinning brightly.
“With an ass like his, I don’t know why you’d think it’s undignified,” you said loftily, and there was a beat as everyone took in what you said.
“I fucking love you,” Joe half laughed, pulling you in for a kiss.
“You’re good,” Tyler snorted, shaking his head with a grin, and Aaron was just straight-up laughing. The rest of the cast took to you easily, though most of the in-jokes among them went over your head, by Joe’s side, you never really felt left out. 
The theater itself was cool and dark, but you could feel the whole cast and crew thrumming with excitement and nervous energy, and Joe gave your hand a squeeze where your fingers were interlaced. 
It’s clear he’d poured his heart and soul into the movie, his fingerprints were all over every aspect of it, and you couldn’t quite believe you were watching it all finally completed; it had been almost a year since you’d first asked him about it, and now, here you were, hand in hand with him at the premiere. 
As the credits rolled, as the crowd clapped, and you along with them, you found yourself speechless. Joe, quiet and surprisingly nervous, turns to you.
“What’d you think?” His voice is quiet, uncertain, and you all but tackle him across the armrest, kissing him until you’re both breathless.
“I’m so proud of you,” you gasp against his lips, “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” his voice is gentle as he takes your face in his hands, but you shake your head.
“You could have, babe, you absolutely could have, you’ve got so much ambition and talent -”
“I didn’t want to do it without you,” he admits in a rush, and you freeze, eyes on his, “I mean it.” And you’re kissing him again, hoping he can feel the pride and love that’s flowing through you. There’s an afterparty to get to, drinks with the cast and crew, and a comfortable bed waiting after that, you know, but you can’t help but bask in this one moment together, just a little longer.
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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years
Text
The tale of Robin and Gale Hood; Ben Hardy x reader Chap. 1
*Author’s note*
Okay so firs the gif has NOTHING to do with the story, that was just the 1st gif I saw out of the borhap gifs that was displayed. So this came after the success of my Disney Aladdin AU fic so I decided to do a Robin Hood fic, so as a little cast list for you all here’s what I’ve got. I’ll also update the cast list as each new character is introduced so that none of you get lost. Hope you all enjoy this little AU fic starring our beloved Borhap cast.
Also on a side note, any italics written like this signifies a change in narration where the character of Alan O’Dale speaks his own narration verses what I’ll be writing.
Robin Hood: Rami Malek
Little John: Joe Mazzello
Prince John: Paul Prenter
Sir Heston: voiced by Allen Leech
King Richard (mentioned): Roger Taylor.
Alan O’Dale: Freddie Mercury (think 1975 version of Freddie)
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Chapter 1,
Robin Hood and Little John
Taglist:
@plethora-of-things​
@waddles03​
@psychosupernatural​
@ixchel-9275​
@simonedk​
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​
@queendeakyy​
@queensdivas​
@queen-paladin​
@wormzteef​
@geek-and-proud​
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The legend of Robin Hood.  Ahhh yes, that handsome rouge who robbed the rich to feed the poor, who led a band of Merry men and made their home in Sherwood Forest.  But there is more to the tale than meets the eye, and more people were involved in his rise to fame and glory.  Like me.
Oi I’m over here, the handsome black-haired devil with the harp. Yes hello there my darlings. The name’s Alan O’Dale, and I am a minstrel.  That’s an early day folk singer, I go about parading songs from town to town, kingdom to kingdom about brave knights, fierce battles, and of course my favorite stories, love stories.
And do I have two of the best love stories to share with you lovely darlings.  Thankfully it all takes place at the same time so I don’t need to run my mouth on for very long.  Anyways let’s first open our tale up to two dashing young men walking through the forest.
Two of the best friends anyone could ever ask for.  These two young men were known other than Robin Hood and Little John.  Now it didn’t start it off that way at first, those two chuckleheads always kept crossing each other’s paths as children and constantly argued and fought over territory, women, you name it.
But when they reached their late teens, Robin was one day captured by the despicable, ugly, and revolting Sheriff of Nottingham.  Fortunately with the help of an additional 3rd party, Robin was saved from the hangman’s noose and from then on, Robin and Little John were the best of friends. You don’t believe me, let me sing you a little something.  
Tuning the harp, Freddie then begins to play an uplifting little tune as he begins to sing.
Robin Hood and Little John walkin' through the forest Laughin' back and forth at what the other'ne has to say Reminiscin', This-'n'-thattin' havin' such a good time Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day
Never ever thinkin' there was danger in the water They were drinkin', they just guzzled it down Never dreamin' that a schemin' sheriff and his posse Was a-watchin' them an' gatherin' around
Robin Hood and Little John runnin' through the forest Jumpin' fences, dodgin' trees an' tryin' to get away Contemplatin' nothin' but escape an' fin'lly makin' it Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day
Deep in the forest on top of a tree there hid two young men in their mid to late-20’s.  One was a pale white man with long shoulder length auburn brown hair.  His eyes were a mixed brownish-green and he was a handsome young man.
The man beside him was around the same age, if not slightly older and had skin that almost seemed to be kissed by the sun.  His eyes were an intense blue color that could almost hypnotize you and at the same time make you feel relaxed.  His short jet black hair topped off his head.
Together the two of them wore a similar green and brown clothes. Similar to a ranger’s outfit.  Fit to camouflage them within the forest terrain, but also enough layers to keep them warm from the elements be it rain, sleet, snow and hail.
The two young men watched as the Sheriff of Nottingham and his men gave up on the search after losing them and retreating back to the city. Once they fled the forest, the two men threw themselves back against the top of the tree branches and laughed their heads off.
“Ohh we sure showed those clowns who the real woodsmen are!” boasted Little John.
“Indeed we have Little John.” It was then Little John saw on top of his friend’s and boss’ famed yellow hat an arrow sticking right through it.
“I wouldn’t be too quick to boast my friend. Take a look at your hat. She’ll not be pleased to see that.” Robin picked his hat up and his eyes widened in surprise and he said as he took the arrow out and fiddled with the newly made hole in his hat.
“Hello. This one had my name on it didn’t it? They’re getting better you know.” He placed his hat back on top of his head. “You’ve got to admit it, they are getting better.”
“Yeah. And when that day comes the Sheriff will have a rope hanging around our necks.” Little John said gravely.  He then mimed out a hanging as he proceeded to make a brief choking sound.  “It’ll be hard to laugh hanging there Robin.”
“Ha! The Sheriff and his whole posse couldn’t lift you off the ground. En Garde!” he then flicked the arrow right at Little John which went through his own smaller green hat.
“Oi watch it you bastard that’s the only hat she made for me!” Little John exclaimed as he took his hat off the arrow.
“Oh come along my friend. If she can patch mine up a hundred times, she’ll patch yours up as well. At least she won’t kill you for it.” Robin said nonchalantly as he leaned up against the trunk of the tree.
“You know something Robin I’ve been thinking.”
“Thinking that’s a first.” Robin teased.  Little John glared at his friend before saying.
“I’m serious here. Are we good guys or bad guys? I mean our famed mantra of robbing the rich to feed the poor.”
“‘Rob?’” Robin tsked. “That’s a naughty word we never rob. We just—sorta borrow a bit from those you can afford it.”
“Borrow?” Little John chuckled. “Then we truly are in deep debt.” Before Robin could say another word, from the distance the sound of trumpets rang out.
He climbed a few feet higher up the tree till he reached the very top of it.  He could hear the whole ensemble of a band playing in the distance and he chuckled softly.
“Sounds like another collection day for the poor eh Johnny me boy?”
“Yeah. Sweet charity. So, what’s the plan this time my friend?” Robin slid down the trunk to meet back with Little John and together he laid out the plan.
Just a few miles along a dirt road, the royal ensemble was walking through the forest.  The royal band played an up-tempo beat, walking behind them was the royal guard all dressed in their armor and holding their spears.
Some of the guards even carried a very large treasure chest which held the taxes throughout all of England.  Then shortly behind the guards was the royal coach of pure gold, and inside it was the vile, selfish, arrogant, man-child that was Prince John, the younger half-brother of the great King Richard.
An Irish bastard’s son.  Who claimed right to the throne of England after his mother who was Queen. He was inside his coach happily running his hands through all the gold he had collected from the people as he boastfully cheered.
“Taxes! Taxes! Beautiful, lovely taxes!”
“Sire. You have an absolutely skill for encouraging contributions from the poor.” His talking albino python that he had named Sir Heston. He had Heston ever since he found him as a egg abandoned in the woods.  With the help of some magic from the faes, Prince John gave his pet human intelligence and the ability to speak.  And once he gained the throne, he allowed his snake to be his right hand man.
“The coin a phrase, my dear advisor. Rob the poor to feed the rich. Am I right?” The two of them laughed.  “Now tell me, what is the next stop Sir Heston?” Prince John asked as he held the crown of England in his hands.  Heston slithered over to the map and he hummed with interest.
“Why, the next stop is Nottingham sire.”
“Oh! The richest plum of them all. Nottingham.” Heston held a large mirror in his coils and held it up as Prince John placed the crown on top of his head and admired himself in the mirror.  The crown slid off down his face as Sir Heston spoke out.
“A perfect fit sire. Most becoming. You look regal, dignified, sincere, masterful, noble. Chival……”
“Now, now don’t. Don’t overdo it Heston.” Prince John scolded as he adjusted the crown to make it fit upon his head. “There. That does it. This crown gives me a feeling of power! Power!”
“And how well King Richard’s crown sits on your noble brow.”
“Yes indeed I—ah King Richard?!” Prince John first started off before snarling by the end.  Heston gulped and was soon choked by his master as he proclaimed again “I told you to never mention my bastard of a brother’s name!”
“A mere slip of the forked tongue your majesty.” Heston apologized. “But remember we were in this plot together. After all it was your idea that I hypnotize him…..”
“Yes. And send him off on that ridiculous crusade. Ah-ha! Ah-ha!” Prince John laughed along.
“Much to the sorrow of the Queen Mother.”
“Yes! Mother.” Prince John sobbed. “Mother always did like Richard best.” He muttered angrily before proceeding to suck his thumb.
“Your highness, please don’t do that. If you don’t mind me saying so, it’s undignified for a King to suck his thumb.” Heston said to him. He then slithered up to Prince John and his eyes began to shimmer and glow as he said in a low hiss, “Hypnotism can rid of your psychosis….so…..easily…..” Prince John began to slowly relax but he quickly snapped out of it.
“None of that! None of that!” he shouted at his snake advisor.
“Well I was only trying to help.” Heston said annoyed.
“Help. Help indeed. Now, now one more stunt like that Heston, and you will be walking to Nottingham.”
“Snakes don’t walk they slither. So there.” Heston muttered angrily as he slithered back onto his tree-like pole and lay there pouting.
Racing through the woods putting on their disguises was Little John in the lead.  He wore a long blood red gypsy dress that revealed his shoulders.  Once he got into the dress, he took out a few rings and placed them on his finger as well some anklets, earrings, and he quickly tied a purple sash around his waist to finish off the look.  
While behind him, Robin wore a long blue dress that was fit for an elderly woman and had a long black wig on.  He placed a couple of earrings on his ears and had a bandana tied to his head.
As the two of them stopped behind a tree, they saw the royal band coming in as well as the guards and the coach which held Prince John inside.
“Well this is a letdown. It’s only a circus. A peanut operation.”
“Peanuts? Why you dunce that’s the royal coach. It’s Prince John himself.” Robin snapped as his friend.
“Prince John. Alright you and her might be crazy enough to actually rob royalty but I am not having it. I’m gone!”
“What? And miss this chance to perform before royalty?” Robin said as he stepped in front of Little John. Quickly placing his hands over Little John’s fake breasts before backing off and doing a grand twirl of his blue dress.  Little John rolled his eyes as he sighed.
“Here he goes again.” They waited till the coach got closer before stepping out and waved their arms in the air trying to get the attention of the Prince.
“Oo-de-lally! Oo-de-lally! Fortune tellers!” Robin proclaimed masking his voice to sound like an elderly woman’s voice.
“Fortunes, forecasts, lucky charms!” Little John proclaimed making his voice go an octave higher to sound like a woman’s.
“Get the dose with your horoscope!” Robin called out again. Prince John pulled back the curtains hearing the proclamations of the two ‘women’.
“Fortune tellers, how exciting! Stop the coach.” He ordered the guards as the entire royal party stopped their marching.
“Sire, sire. They maybe bandits.” Sir Heston whispered to his master.
“Oh poppycock. Female bandits, what’s next? Rubbish.” Prince John scoffed.  He turned back to the two ladies who bowed before him and he said. “My dear ladies, you have my permission to kiss the royal hands. Whichever you like.” Both Robin and Little John stared wide-eyed once they saw the size of the jeweled rings that rested along the prince’s fingers.
“Hmm. Oh how gracious. And generous of you your majesty.” Robin said as he lowered his head to kiss the Prince’s left hand while sneaking off a ring from his tall finger.  Sir Heston who had seen the ring being taken whispered in Prince John’s ear.
“Sire! Did you see what…..”
“Stop! Stop hissing in my ear!” Prince John scolded as he rubbed his left ear.  Little John kissed right over the four rings on the prince’s right hand, secretly taking the jewels right off their encasement.  Heston began stammering in the Prince’s other ear which made the Prince proclaim and rub his other ear like he did his last one.
“Heston! You’ve hissed your last!” he took his python by the neck and slammed him into a basket before closing it and sitting on top of it. “Suspicious snake.” He hissed lowly.
“Masterfully done. Ehh your excellency. Now the fun can truly begin.” Robin tempted the Prince as he climbed into the coach with Prince John and closed the curtains.  He turned the lanterns down low and said to him, “Now close your eyes and concentrate.”
Prince John closed his eyes as Robin continued to tell him to close them tighter and not to peek.  He looked around the room until he found the pile of gold, he did a soft chuckle before chanting out.
“From the mists of time, I call forth ye spirits.” Outside the coach, Little John had a glass bowl tied to a string that was attached to a pole.
“Alright you little fireflies. Glow, glow.”
“We’re waiting!” Robin sung out.  That’s when Little John sent the bowl inside and he could hear Robin gasp. “Look sire! Look!”
When the prince opened his eyes, he saw three floating spirits within a crystal ball.  He was in pure awe as he said.
“Incredible. Floating spirits.” He went to touch the ball until he was slapped by Robin.  He chuckled a soft witchy cackle as he said.
“Naughty, naughty. You mustn’t touch young man.”
“Well how dare you strike the royal hand I—”
“Shh, shh, shh. You’ll break the spell just gaze into the crystal ball.” Robin took the ball with the fireflies and set it down on the table between him and the prince.  Robin then began chanting in an ancient Arabic tongue before letting out a gasp. “A face appears.”
The Prince immediately looks closer at the crystal ball intrigued.
“A crown sits on his noble brow.”
“A crown! Oo-de-lally how exciting!”
“His face is handsome, regal, majestic, loveable, a cuddly face.” From outside Little John heard all the comments Robin was laying on the Prince and could help but mime out a gag and roll his eyes.  Especially when the Prince began agreeing with everything that was said about him.
Robin then went for the treasure while the Prince was in his own head.  But as soon as he reached out his hand for the bag of gold, Heston who had found a weak spot on the basket poked his head out and actually struck out at Robin’s hand.
Biting his lip as he quickly retreated his hand to see it bleeding from the snake’s bite.  He let out a pained groaned which got the attention of the prince.
“Now what?” he asked impatiently.  Robin swallowed his pain and chuckled softly.
“I—I see your….illustrious name.”
“I know my name! Get on with it!” the Prince cried impatiently.
“Your name will go down, down, down in history of course!” Robin said as he struggled to take the bag of gold from Heston, who had it wrapped around his tail, but with a finally good tug, Robin managed to get the gold and send it towards Little John through the back curtains of the coach.
“Ahh! I knew it! I knew it! You hear that Heston!? Oh no you can’t he’s in the basket.” He then banged the side of the basket and said to his snake, “And-and-and don’t you forget it.”
Meanwhile outside, Little John slowly circled around the coach when he took notice of the solid gold hubcaps on the wheels of the coach.
“Hmm now that’s what I call pure gold hubcaps.” He looked around and stood in front of the back one and unscrewed it from the wheel and shoved it up the back of his dress.  He then moved over to the front on and did the same thing. “Oo-de-lally the jackpot.” He muttered softly as he eyed the royal treasure.
However it was completely surrounded and carried by guards.  Little John pondered for a bit but remembered a trick that he learned from a friend of his.
The one sure fire way to get a man’s attention away from their post.
He whistled out to the guards and when they turned and saw him, their mouths immediately dropped and their eyes widened.  He slowly and seductively untied the purple sash from his waist and began to do a seductive dance.
Shimming his shoulders and swaying his hips back and forth. Little John was light on his feet as he leaped and hopped about like a graceful deer.  He then skipped on over to the first guard who was just in awe.
Little John wrapped the purple sash around the guard’s neck pulling him in a little closer.  Close enough to kiss him.  But to tease him, he shoved the guard’s helmet over his face before retreating back and flaunted the guard, who was still hypnotized by Little John’s performance.
He twirled around before suddenly dropping down into a full split.  The guards now began to hoot and holler as they applauded, dropping the treasure. Little John then went up to another guard and took his spear out of his hands and jammed it into the ground.  
With the grace of a deer, Little John then began to spin and slid down the spear’s long pole before ending with a pose with his right leg high in the air and he winked at the guards who were now applauding and whistling.
“Ohh stop it. Stop it you boys are too much.” Little John spoke his woman voice.
“That was the best show we have ever seen.” Said one of the guards.
“Well gentleman. It was my pleasure to dance for you. But of course every bit of contribution helps. For you see I—oh I just can’t say it.”
“What is it?” asked another guard.
“No it’s—it’s too painful to speak about.” The guards feeling sympathetic for this beautiful woman all started speaking up and telling ‘her’ that they wanted to hear her story. “Well…..I wasn’t always like this. My husband was beating me, cheating me, then left me all alone with no money. That’s when I—I forced myself to flee even without a cent to my name. That’s when I found Ms. Olga, the elderly gypsy woman I came with. But even then we—we hardly get by with enough food for you see…..I found myself pregnant at the time I left.”
These men were falling for the story hook, line and sinker. It was then one of the guards took the treasure chest and slid it over to Little John.
“Please, take it all.” Little John gave the young guard a surprised look and he said.
“Oh no I couldn’t possibly take all this.”
“Please. My—my mum had to raise me on her own when my father left her. For you and your baby.”
“Ohh you sweet thing.” He stroked the side of the guard’s cheek and Little John dragged the royal chest away from the guards.
As he came around the corner of the carriage, he felt someone bump into him which knocked him over the chest.  He turned around and saw Robin wearing Prince John’s royal cape and surrounded by a bunch of gold pieces that had fallen out of a bag that lay on the ground.
“Nice robes your majesty.” Little John teased, his normal accent finally coming out.
“And what of you, you vulgar young hussy. I heard all the wolf whistles and cheering. I could hardly keep the Prince under my hypnosis to swipe his clothes and gold.”
“Never mind that. Just gather the gold and then help me with this.” Robin and Little John then worked together to put as much gold pieces back in the bag as possible.  Robin stuffed the bag into his dress then both he and Little John picked up the chess and quickly raced off.
Prince John who had woken up from his dazed state, saw the two gypsy women running away from the scene, the elderly woman wearing his robes. He looked down and saw that he was in his undergarments.
“ROBBED! I’VE BEEN ROBBED! HESTON! YOU’RE NEVER AROUND WHEN I NEED YOU!!” Heston slithered out of the basket and raised half his body length up and looked the prince up and down. “I’ve been robbed.” He choked out as he covered himself up.
“Of course you’ve been robbed!” Heston hissed.  Far in the forest, Robin was gleefully chanting as he and Little John made their escape with the royal treasure.
“AFTER THEM YOU FOOLS!” Prince John proclaimed.  The guards now realizing they had been tricked, immediately took off running.  The carriage soon began to chase after Robin and Little John, unfortunately due to the missing hubcaps, the wheels began to pop off which made Prince John hop out of his carriage and fall straight into the mud.
Leaving him stranded in the middle of the forest trail alone with Heston.  He sobbed as he pounding the ground whining like a child.
“I knew it. I knew this would happen. I tried to tell you but no, no you wouldn’t listen. You just have to—” when Heston realized that he had angered the Prince, he began stammering as he tried to warn the prince as he now held a very large mirror, “Seven years bad…..” he then had the mirror smashed onto his head. “Luck. That’s what that is. Besides, you just broke your mother’s mirror.”
“Ahhh! Mummy!” Prince John whined as he began to suck his thumb once again.  He took it out of his mouth as he said solemnly, “I’ve got a dirty thumb.”
18 notes · View notes
har-rison-s · 3 years
Text
queen band writings MASTERLIST
A/N: This is definitely a short one, but enjoy nonetheless. Happy reading!
main masterlist
borhap masterlist
🌺 - fluff
💥 - angst
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Band:
Friends Will Be Friends 🌺
Death On Two Legs💥
Pain, Period💥🌺
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illfoandillfie · 5 years
Text
The Dinner Party
Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader + Rami Malek, Lucy Boynton, Joe Mazzello, Gwilym Lee 
Summery: Ben finds out about one of your fantasies and offers to help make it a reality.
Warnings: SMUT 18+ !!! it’s a big ol’ gang bang folks! unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, sensory deprivation (blindfolds), gags, restraints, choking, slapping, biting, spanking, oral (f and m receiving), a*al, orgasm denial, overstimulation/forced orgasm, nipple play, fingering, degradation, sexual objectification, handjobs, i think thats everything oh god i dont know theres a lot
Words: 11,538 (jesus)
A/N: I am so sorry I made you wait so long for this one - the last couple of months have been fucking whack as heck. Anyway, I hope she was worth waiting for! I’m gonna go have 12 cold showers in a row and scream for a while.
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(its so fucking hard to find photos of all of them together jesus christ)
Taglist:  @idontbelievethiss @somekindof-cheese @dtfrogertaylor   @ezmina98  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks 
“So, uhh, that fantasy you sent me the other night,” Ben ran his fingers lightly up and down your arm, “You really got off to that?”   You could feel the sweat caught between your back and his chest, skin sticking together where you leaned against him. His hand was heavy on your stomach, moving with you as you wiggled around, trying to decrease the sticky discomfort.   “Well, yeah, otherwise I wouldn’t have sent it. Was it too much?”   It was something you did when you were away from each other. When you’d been apart for too long and you were yearning for each other's touch. You’d message each other with what you’d thought about while masturbating. Like a lot of the little traditions and patterns you and Ben developed, it had started as a joke. But now it felt weird to not do it. Sometimes it was links to porn videos or erotic stories found online. Sometimes it was reminiscences about previous nights together. And sometimes it was just one word. You.    “No, it was pretty hot actually.”   This time the distance had been caused by Ben’s filming schedule taking him overseas for three whole months. It was the longest you’d been separated in a while, and your game had turned into a bit of a competition. Trying to one up each other with wilder fantasies. You’d sent the last one, drawing on something you’d thought about a lot but never really divulged to anyone before in order to claim victory. The moment you’d hit send you’d worried it was too much. Ben knew you had a thing for exhibitionism and for being treated like an object, happy to help you indulge in them from time to time, but you’d never really exposed how deep they went. His response amounted to an oh my god and a couple of flushed face emojis. No come back, no one upping. Just three words and two little symbols. You hoped it was because he had nothing hotter to counter with and not because you’d freaked him out too much.  
Three days later he was back home, hurriedly removing your shirt within minutes of walking through the door. The sex was neither sweet nor soft, though the way Ben sat up and pulled you against him afterwards, kissing your temple in the process, was both.    “Glad you think so. It’s one I’ve thought about a lot.”   “And you’ve never mentioned it before why?”   “I don’t know, not every guy would be cool hearing about how his girlfriend dreams of being used by a bunch of strangers.”   “Okay, yeah, spose that’s fair.” He was quiet for a moment, absentmindedly stroking your skin with feather light touches, “But if you got the chance, you’d really want to do something like that?”   “I think so, yeah. Maybe not actually with strangers. Don’t think I’d feel comfortable enough to get into it if I didn’t know and trust everyone there. But in theory, yes.”   “What if... what if I could arrange for something like it to happen?”   “What?” You sat up straight and turned to face him, convinced you’d misheard him.   “If I found some people you were comfortable with who... wanted to help make this a reality would you want to do it?”   “You’re taking the piss, right?”    “I swear I’m being serious. If you wanted to actually do something like that, I’d be into it. I’d help set it up.”   “Are you feeling okay?” you pressed the back of your hand to Ben’s forehead like you were checking his temperature but he just laughed, grabbing you by the wrist so he could bring your hand to his lips.    “I feel fine, babe.” His smile hit you like a ton of bricks. Fuck you’d missed that smile.   “Can’t blame a girl for checking,”   “Look, what you described was incredibly hot and the idea of watching you be used like that...” he trailed off but you didn’t need him to say anything else, his rapidly hardening cock was proof enough. You repositioned yourself on your hands and knees, taking his cock in one hand, “You wanna watch me, blindfolded and restrained, being fucked until im crying? Wanna see me helpless and desperate and used by a whole group of people?” Your strokes along his shaft were interrupted as Ben wrapped his hand around your throat.   “I really do,” he growled as he pushed you back onto your knees, “but I think I need to fuck you again, make sure you remember who really owns your cunt.”  
Ben didn’t mention it again that week, though he barely let you out of his reach. He always got extra clingy and cuddly after you’d been reunited, surprising you with soft deep kisses and tight hugs at random. Always finding some reason to touch you, a hand on your back while you were standing at the stove, brushing fingers as you slipped past each other in the corridor, clutching your waist as he pulled you onto his lap while you played video games together. You figured he’d forgotten about your conversation now that the immediate heat and need for each other had been replaced with a softer desire to just be close. Not that you minded. You were happy to let that fantasy remain a fantasy, and if you were honest you hadn’t fully believed Ben when he suggested making it happen for real. Until he brought it up about a week and a half after his return.  
You were watching TV, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you, when he spoke.   “So I got a call from Lucy today, turns out in a couple weeks time the whole band will be in London. We’re planning on meeting up for a few drinks, something like that.”   “Oh that’s so great Ben,” you said, pulling your eyes from the ad for bathroom cleaner you’d been mindlessly staring at and looking up at him, “Be nice to see everyone again, all at once.”   “Yeah. Actually, I thought I might suggest they all come over here for dinner one night.”   “That’s a wonderful idea.”   “And, uh, if you were still interested, we could maybe give them all a chance to fuck you.”   You choked, an exclamation of surprise catching in your throat.   “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” Ben said, almost laughing as he hurried to get you a glass of water. You glared at him through watery eyes as your coughing fit subsided, gulping down the water as soon as he’d handed it over.   “What the fuck?” you rasped out once you were back in control of your voice.   “I didn’t think you were going to choke. Just thought it’d surprise you. You alright?”   “Yeah, fine. But what the fuck?” You grabbed the remote to mute the TV, a signal that you wanted Ben to take this conversation seriously.    “It was just a suggestion,” he said with a half shrug, “You said you’d be interested in doing it.”   “I am, I just.... They’re your friends Ben, wouldn’t it be kinda weird?”   He shrugged again, “Maybe at first. But you said you’d be more comfortable if you knew the people involved. Well, you know them. And I trust them. It’s worth thinking about at least.”   You paused, chewing your lip as you took in what he was saying properly, the original shock having passed. It did kind of make sense.   “Would… would they be into it?” you said slowly.   “I mean, I’d have to talk to them. But, yeah, I think so.” he shrugged slightly.   “And you’d be okay with it?”   “Yes,” he answered matter-of-factly.   “Really? Ben it’s one thing to think about it while you get off or talk about in the abstract. It’s a whole other thing to actually watch your girlfriend having sex with other people, especially your friends.” you shifted in your seat, moving to kneel beside him and reaching out to stroke his cheek, “I don’t want you to do something you’re not fully comfortable with just to try and make me happy. It was my fantasy to begin with and I am totally okay with leaving it like that. Really think about this before you say anything else.”   He reached up, taking your hand in his and tracing lines over the back of your fingers, “But I have thought about it. A lot. Kind of non-stop actually. And I want to do it, if you do.”   “Really?”   “Yes. Look, it’s not like there’s gonna be feelings involved. This isn’t making love on a bed of roses type stuff. I’m not gonna be watching you have a romantic night with anyone. I’m gonna watch you being treated like a living sex toy by multiple people. Probably join in a bit too. And you’re not the only one who can set boundaries. If there’s anything I don’t feel comfortable seeing happen I’ll let everyone know.”   You opened your mouth to speak but Ben cut you off.   “If you ask me ‘really?’ one more time,” he laughed, pulling you off your knees and onto his lap, “Y/N, I promise you I am more than okay with this. It might have been your fantasy but it was my suggestion to actually do it. If it was strangers involved it’d be different. But the guys? None of them are going to hurt you, they’ll all respect whatever rules we put in place, and they’ll make sure it’s fun.”   Your eyes roamed over Ben’s face, looking for any sign of discomfort or unease but all you saw was a plea for trust.   “Okay. Talk to them, see how they all feel about it. But if anyone isn’t into it, the dinner stays as just a dinner. Deal?”   “Deal.” He rested his forehead against yours, “I love you.”   You hummed, kissing him softly.    “Love you too, Benny.”  
Over the next week Ben talked to everyone individually, gauging their interest in the dinner party and any extra activities that may involve. Some were a little more hesitant than others but by the end of the week everyone was a hard yes. It made your stomach tighten every time you thought about it, anticipation and excitement and nerves building as you counted down the days. You and Ben worked out the rules, where lines would be drawn and where boundaries would lie to ensure the night was safe and fun for everyone involved. You collected supplies, discussed and re-discussed how everything would work as well as planning the actual dinner party aspect – food and drink and music. As the night got closer you found yourself more and more aroused, constantly wet, unable to think about anything else for too long. Ben for his part seemed just as affected by it as you were and you found yourselves naked together much more frequently than you’d expected to. Not once was it rough though. It was like the two of you were saving all your energy for the dinner party, spending the hours in bed having lazy, gentle sex, soft kisses and gasped names and whispered ‘I love you’s. By the time the actual night rolled around you were burning for something harder and faster, looking forward to being used and bruised.   
Half an hour before everyone turned up you started to get ready. You’d been wearing your plug all day, at Ben’s suggestion, but it still made you shiver when you caught a glimpse of it as you were getting dressed, the sparkly jewel catching the light as you checked your reflection. The lingerie you’d picked out left very little to the imagination, a crotchless thong and matching sheer bra, the garter belt and stockings the most modest part of the outfit. You fixed your makeup, adding extra mascara and reapplying your lipstick knowing it would just end up smudged.   
“They’ll be here in ten babe, you ready?” Ben asked as he knocked on the bedroom door. You took a deep breath, looking over yourself one last time before you left the room. The soft ‘wow’ Ben gave you made you giggle as he led you through your unit to the mixed living/dining room. You’d rearranged the furniture earlier, shifting the coffee table over to the wall which left space for you to kneel in front of anyone on the couch. The dinner table was already laid out for everyone, except you of course, a tray of champagne glasses waiting to be offered around. You headed towards the coffee table, running your hand along it as you checked all the toys were there. Some of them were things you’d used before, some were newly bought specifically for tonight. Each had been carefully considered between you and Ben, only those you were both completely comfortable with being put out.   
“Okay, let’s do this,” you said as you headed to your position in the middle of the room.    Ben grabbed the spreader bar off the coffee table, attaching the cuffs to your ankles, forcing you to stand with legs wide open. The butterflies in your stomach went wild, everything suddenly feeling more real.   “You all good?” Ben asked as he stood back up.   “I’m wonderful. You?”   “Brilliant.” He flashed you a reassuring smile and pecked you on the lips before turning to pick up the ball gag and press it into your mouth. Your lips stretched around it as he adjusted the fastening at the back of your head. You nodded to show you were comfortable and he turned once more, reaching for the black bandana that was going to be your blindfold for the night. You wanted to touch yourself, relieve some of the pressure that had been building all day but Ben grabbed your hands, pulling them in front of you, palms up. You heard him walk away and then come back with the tray of drinks, placing it carefully on your upturned hands.    “Okay, all set. I’m gonna go check the dinner but everyone should start arriving soon. See you afterwards.”    You hummed your agreement as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and pressed a kiss to your forehead. His touch left you but he was still close by. You felt him lean into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as he growled a final warning in the voice he reserved for dominating you.   “Don’t drop the drinks, slut.”  
You were left in almost silence. Your unit wasn’t huge but the kitchen was far enough away that the noise was muffled. Or maybe you were just so aware of how much being left alone in such a vulnerable position turned you on, that outside noise just wasn’t getting through as easily. It was just you and your pounding heart and your steadily growing arousal. Nothing to do but wait and hope your arms didn’t give out under the tray of glasses. You had no idea how long it had been. You’d had about ten minutes when you’d started being set up, surely that time would have passed by now. Saliva was beginning to dribble under the gag and over your lips, trickling slowly down your chin to drip onto your chest. You heard Ben come back into the room, heading towards the speakers he’d set up and beginning to play the mix he’d created, music turned down low so it filled the background without distracting. Still you waited, trying to focus on keeping the tray of drinks balanced. Then suddenly, the buzzer, shocking you slightly and making your heart race. Ben answered, giving whoever it was access to the building and moments later you heard talking at the door, listening intently for who had arrived.   “Ben!”   “Lucy, looking lovely as always.” A pause, “Rami, great to see you buddy. Head on in, grab a drink and have a look. No touching yet though, we’ve got some rules to go through once everyone’s here.”    You heard footsteps, a pair of heels clicking over the floor and the duller noise of someone in flat shoes, getting closer. A girly giggle as two drinks were removed from your tray. You prayed it wasn’t going to change the balance and tip everything over. They were both quiet for a moment. You could feel their eyes on you, looking you up and down.   “You know I half thought Ben was joking,” Rami said quietly making Lucy laugh.   “Glad he wasn’t.” She said and you heard her heels again as she began walking around you slowly, taking in every inch of your helpless form, “She’s very pretty. Always thought Ben lucked out with her.”   “Alright, Luce, keep it in your pants,”   “Can’t help it. You know I can’t resist a helpless, restrained toy. And you have to admit she looks like she’ll be fun.”   “She definitely does. Almost can’t believe it’s Y/N. She always seemed so sweet and not one for this sort of thing.”   “Are you kidding? I knew she’d be into some kinky stuff the first time Ben introduced her to us.”   “What? No way,”   “Well okay, maybe not the instant I met her. You remember when we were at the restaurant with them, I went to the bathroom with her so I could chat to her, woman to woman, and I caught a glimpse of her wrist. There was a very clear mark that she was trying to hide, looked like it came from too tight handcuffs.”   You felt your cheeks grow warm at the memory. God, if you’d known then that Lucy had worked out what you and Ben had got up to that morning, you would have died from embarrassment. But now all it did was turn you on more, heat pooling in your stomach.   “God, see that?” Lucy suddenly exclaimed   “See what?”   “Right there, on the inside of her thigh,”   “Oh my god, you’re right, she’s dripping.”   The warmth of the oven spread through every room but you couldn’t suppress a shiver running down your spine as they both laughed, continuing to talk about you as if you weren’t there. You heard Ben walk back through the room as the buzzer rang a second time. The door opened and you said a silent thank you that Joe and Gwilym had arrived together, your arms already sore from holding them still for so long. Ben greeted them and told them the same thing he’d told Rami and Lucy – grab a drink, have a look, don’t touch. You were briefly forgotten as the two newcomers entered the room, everyone more focused on greeting each other until Joe asked where they’d got their champagne from.   “She’s got them.”   “Woah,”   “Right?”   “Is that really Y/N?”   “Go on, have a closer look. She’s absolutely loving this.”   “What d’you mean?”   “She’s wearing crotchless panties and you can see she’s completely soaked.”   “My god,”   Your tray lightened again as another two drinks were removed from it.   “Where’d Ben go?”  “He said something about giving us a chance to have a look around. I assume he meant her.”   “Hope he comes back soon, I’m itching to touch her.”   “Jeez Luce, didn’t realise you’d be so into it.”   “Well excuse me for getting into the spirit of it all.”  
They kept talking, the conversation a mix of catching up and comments about you. When Ben came back, his footsteps audible beneath the chatter, he was met by dozens of questions though he wouldn’t answer anything about you straight away. Eventually he took the last glass, leaving you to hold the empty tray despite the ache in your arms, and tapped it with his fingernail to get everyone’s attention.   “Sorry, don’t want to interrupt for too long” he said as everyone quieted down, “I just need your attention for a moment. There’s a few rules we need to cover before the fun can really start." He paused and you felt the energy of the room change, an electric current running through everyone as they focused on you and Ben.    “Firstly, just to be clear, this has all been set up with Y/N’s consent. Everyone has agreed to participate but of course you aren’t obligated to, and if anything that happens makes you uncomfortable, please talk to me about it.”   There was a brief murmur while Ben paused but once he started speaking again it stopped.   “Y/N and I can stop the scene at any time. Our safe word is red but obviously it may not be possible for Y/N to speak throughout the night so she also has a safe signal, three slaps against something. It could be the floor or a wall or her own thigh or whatever, but three slaps or the word red means everything stops instantly. There shouldn’t be any need for us to use them though, if everyone follows the rules, which are, one: you can touch or fuck Y/N just about however you want, as long as there is no anal play. You may have noticed she’s wearing a plug tonight but her arse is off limits to anyone who isn’t me.”   You whimpered softly behind the gag but Ben ignored you.   “Two: For the boys specifically I guess, you are not allowed to finish in her cunt, but down her throat or over any other part of her is fine. Three: We expect some bruises and marks, especially if you choose to use some of the toys provided,” he gestured towards the coffee table, “but please nothing that will leave permanent scars, no burns or blood. Four: Degrading names are fine but stick with things like slut and whore and bitch, nothing too personal. And finally, on a slightly different though no less serious note, five: no forehead kisses or anything that has a romantic connotation. That one is less for her sake than mine. Everyone understand?”   There was a chorus of yes’s in response before Ben spoke again.   “Good. We trust you, it’s why we were comfortable setting this up and inviting all of you, but my main concern is keeping this fun and safe for everyone, especially for Y/N.”   If it weren’t for the restraints and the desire to be good that had practically taken over your brain, you could have melted at the way he said your name. It carried the same weight as the words good girl or the ‘my’ in my slut. But before you had a chance to really appreciate it he’d moved on.   “I promise, this is the last thing I’m gonna say. Tonight this is not the Y/N you all know. This is a toy who happens to look like her. She is an object, a breathing blow up doll, here for your entertainment, for you to talk about or talk to or to use however entertains you most. Her pleasure is not the priority. Now have fun.”  
Everyone was still for a moment, not quite knowing how to start but then Lucy was coming towards you, the clacking of her heels almost ominous.   “Can we get rid of the tray now? Maybe the blindfold too?” She asked. The general chatter started up again behind her but you focused on Lucy’s voice.    “Sure thing,” Ben sounded more amused than anything, “You wanna leave her arms out or put them behind her back?” Ben took the tray and you let your arms drop, heavy with the strain of holding them up, a slight ache already in your shoulders.   “Restrained I think”   “Oi, Gwil, chuck us those handcuffs will you?” He called across the room before he turned back to Lucy, “I’ll give you the keys, Luce, let you decide how long she stays like that.”   “Ben, you’ve just made my day,”   They were both laughing as you felt your blindfold being tugged off and you blinked as your eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.   “Much better,” Lucy teased, standing right in front of you, her voice low and pouty, “now we can see those pretty eyes.”   A familiar hand gripped your wrist, pulling it behind your back, followed quickly by the other one as Gwilym joined Ben behind you and handed over the cuffs, the fluffy black cover in place to make it easier on your wrists. Lucy dragged her hand down the side of your face, distracting you from the two boys behind you.   “Look at you, all dolled up for us. Don’t quite know where to start.” Her hand trailed lower, sliding along your jaw and down onto your neck. Your heart raced as the handcuffs clicked into place and Lucy opened her hand as if to choke you. Instead she lightly ran her thumb and fingers down the column of your throat, laying her hand flat once she reached your sternum. You jolted as Gwilym’s hands landed on your arse, grabbing you firmly and almost sending you toppling forward. Lucy continued to trail her hands down your body, squeezing your breasts and teasing your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. You wanted to beg for more, for them to stop teasing you, but the gag prevented you. All you managed to do was let more saliva drip onto your chest.   “She’s got a nice arse, can see why you want to keep it to yourself,”   Ben laughed, “Can’t expect me to share everything mate.”    “Nice tits too,” Lucy said before she reared a hand back and brought it forward to slap one of them. You whined behind the gag, and Lucy’s face lit up.   “Let’s hear that again.” Her hand rose up into the air as Ben grabbed your arms, holding you still as she brought it down on your other breast. You whined again, partly because of the slap and partly because of the way Gwilym’s fingers were sliding along your cunt. Every noise you made only served to cover you in more of your own spit.   “You were right about how wet she is Lucy.”   “Why don’t you bend her over and fuck her,” Ben said as he let go of your arms, “that’s what she’s here for and I can promise her cunt is just as good as her arse.” He gave you a final tap on the hip as he walked off, winking at you from over Lucy’s shoulder before joining Joe and Rami in their conversation.  
The next thing you felt was Gwilym’s hand on your back pushing you to bend at the waist as he grabbed your bound arms where Ben had just let go. You looked up at Lucy as best you could, eyes wide at the sound of Gwilym’s zip being pulled down and the shuffle of his clothing. This was it. This was what you’d been secretly dreaming about for years, or close enough anyway. Lucy bent down slightly, bringing her face to your level as your hip was grasped hard by the man behind you.   “She’s gagging for it Gwil, drooling everywhere.”   That was the only encouragement Gwilym needed before he was sliding into you through the opening in your underwear, not giving you any time to adjust before he was fucking you hard and fast. The plug in your arse increased the fullness and tightness you felt and you squeezed your eyes shut as his hips snapped against you repeatedly. When you opened them Lucy was gone. Disappointment washed over you, compounded by the fact that Gwil was doing nothing to intentionally push you into an orgasm. His thrusts were forceful and made you whine around the gag but he wasn’t angled the right way to hit your g-spot and he refused to touch your clit.   “Slow down for a minute would you Gwil, wanna get that gag off her.” Lucy was back, pulling Rami along by the hand. Gwilym adjusted his pace, slowing enough for Lucy to remove the ballgag from your mouth, a long string of spit dripping from your lips as it was thrown to the side.    You gasped out, “thank you,” as Lucy ran her thumb over your chin, pushing the drool back up to your mouth.  “Liked it better when you couldn’t talk. Rami, sweetie, why don’t you put her mouth to good use.”  You whimpered as Rami released his cock and Lucy wrapped her hand around it, pumping a few times before she threaded her fingers through your hair to hold your head still.   “Good girl, keep that mouth open nice and wide for us,” she cooed as Rami eased himself inside.   He must have given Gwil some kind of signal that you’d missed, too focused on Lucy’s voice, because both of them began thrusting into you at the same time. This time Gwilym started slower, matching Rami’s pace as he worked himself down your throat, gradually speeding up again. Every noise you made in reaction to how Gwilym was fucking you was lost in a wet gag as your throat was used. Complete contrast to the slapping noises of Gwil’s hips against you and the grunts from both men. You knew they were both going to cum and that, at the rate you were going, you wouldn’t be just yet, and that only made you more desperate to touch yourself. It was very very rarely you’d been able to get off from penetration alone and though you tonight could potentially prove to be another of those times, it certainly wasn’t going to happen this quickly. Lucy must have sensed your need because she began to trail her fingertips down your back as she walked away from your head, eventually bringing her hand to your clit. You moaned as you finally felt some kind of relief, the sound muffled by the cock jammed down your throat.    “So needy,” Lucy commented to no one in particular, laughing as she removed her fingers and heard you whine. And then she was back in front of you, sucking on the fingers she’d touched you with as she watched more saliva drip off your chin.   “Oh, f-fuck,” you heard Gwilym grunt, his cock twitching as he slowed his hips and pulled out of you. You barely had time to register the sudden emptiness and increased desire before you felt him covering your lower back with his cum. He tapped your arse in appreciation and walked away. Lucy leaned in to whisper something in Rami’s ear and with another two thrust he was cumming too, making you swallow every drop before he fell from your lips and tucked himself away.   “Think I need a stiff drink after that,” he said as he headed off to find something, leaving you alone with Lucy.    You let out a breath as you stood up again, the ache between your legs stronger after Lucy’s much too brief touch.    “Think I could use a top up too actually,” Lucy said as she looked around, “I’ll be back in a minute and then we’ll find another use for your mouth.   You whimpered as Lucy walked away as well leaving you alone, unable to move properly, dripping and needy, back itchy where Gwilym’s cum had landed. You could see Lucy talking to Ben as he topped up her glass of champagne, Rami and Gwilym standing with them. Turning your head, you found Joe, standing at the table where you’d laid out the toys that you and Ben were open to people using on you. He picked up the leather paddle Ben liked to use when you needed a punishment, tapping it against his palm a few times. Your instinct was to squeeze your thighs together but the spreader bar prevented you. Instead you watched, holding your breath, as Lucy joined Joe. You could see them talking and laughing, Joe still tapping the paddle against his hand absentmindedly. And then they were both walking in your direction, still talking, Joe still holding that damn paddle. You swallowed hard.   
As soon as Lucy was in front of you, she wrapped her hand around your throat again, squeezing slightly as she took a sip of her drink.    “I checked with Ben, he said this was okay,” She brought her lips to yours. Your first thought was that they were softer than Ben’s. Your second was that she tasted like champagne and strawberry lip gloss. Your third was how much it hurt when she bit your lip and pulled it.    “Had to know,” she shrugged, looking at Joe.   “Hey, no complaints here,”   “D’you want to uncuff her, or should I?”   “I’ll do it, you keep making out,”   Lucy giggled as she handed over the keys.   “Uncuffing me?” you croaked; voice rough from a mixture of not talking and how your throat had been used.   “Only because I want your fingers. Gonna use them and that pretty mouth to get me off.”   You whimpered and heard a chuckle from behind you as your wrists were finally released.   “She hasn’t even heard what I’m gonna do to her yet,”   “I was gonna let that be a surprise Joe,”   You rolled your shoulders, stretching the stiffness from them, and confessed that you’d already seen the paddle. Lucy tutted as she undid the clasp of your bra, dropping it to the floor as she turned towards the couch and fell into it gracefully, “Might have to blindfold you again after this. Can’t have you ruining any more of our surprises.” She crooked her finger at you and you awkwardly followed her, the spreader bar inhibiting your movement so that each small step drew everyone’s eye. When you were close enough to grab onto the couch for support you eased yourself to your knees and shuffled as close as you could get. Lucy raised her dress slightly, hooking her leg over your shoulder. You could feel the heel of her shoe resting on your back as you were drawn towards her still clothed pussy, a large wet patch proof of how much fun she’d had so far. You hooked your finger into her underwear, pulling it to the side, just as Joe began to speak to the room at large. Lucy’s hand in your hair kept you focused on her, kitten licking along her lips, as Joe began to take bets on how many spanks you could handle before you begged to stop. You weren't sure who said which number, everyone’s voices bleeding into each other as they argued and defended their bets. The lowest you heard was a pitiful five, the highest you were sure came from Ben who put his money on twenty. After all, he knew he’d reached that with you before. You tried to keep your tongue on Lucy as the talk died down again and the nerves rose in your chest, everyone waiting for the first strike. The was a pause, almost silent, and then the paddle came down against your arse, splitting the air with a sharp slap followed by a chorus of voices counting the first strike. You let out a small hiss as you relaxed back into Lucy, drawing a gasp from her as you circled your tongue around her clit. You were a little more prepared for the second spank now that you had an idea of how Joe moved, how forceful his first one had been. It only made you jolt forward, your hitched breath covered by everyone calling out two! The spanks with the paddle came faster and harder as they progressed, making you gasp into Lucy’s cunt as you continued to lick along her folds, gradually adding your fingers one at a time. By the time they’d reached ten spanks you were fighting back tears, three fingers pumping in and out of Lucy, trying to distract yourself from the sting in your arse by listening to the moans and sighs falling from her lips every time you curled your fingers and lapped at her wetness. You could tell she was getting close, rhythmically clenching round your fingers, her heel digging into your back as you took yet another hit. You sucked Lucy’s clit into your mouth as you pressed your fingers in deep, curling them and making her moan. It didn’t take much more than that to have her cumming, though the way you whined as Joe spanked you again probably helped push her over the edge. You let her ride the orgasm out on your fingers, licking up her release until she pushed you away and let her leg drop from your shoulder. As soon as you were free you felt another spank, this one hard enough to push a sob from your throat and tears from your eyes. Everyone yelled out the number thirteen and you braced yourself for another.  
You finally broke, crying out to stop at number twenty-two. Mascara stung your eyes and left black lines down your cheeks in the wake of tears you couldn’t stop. As chatter filled the room once more, discussing your performance and claiming Ben shouldn’t win any money since he clearly knew how long you’d last, you heard footsteps approach. Ben’s hand was warm against the back of your head and for a moment you let yourself drop out of the scene, leaning your forehead against his leg and breathing deep to control your tears.    “Hey, that wasn’t too much was it?” Joe asked, eyes flicking between you and Ben.   “No, not at all. Y/N knew how much she could take and you stopped when she said so.”   “Okay, good. Just wanted to check. You seemed a little tense towards the end there.”   “Mate, you’re fine. Just not the easiest thing to watch my girlfriend in that position when I’m not the one controlling how hard or how often she gets hit.”   “Yeah, Joe, that was great,” you said, looking up at him through watery eyes, “Broke my record.”   “And won me fifty quid,”   “Good luck getting everyone to pay up,” he chuckled.   For the briefest of moments, it felt like the three of you were just hanging out, joking around over a beer down the pub, until Ben leaned down to ask if you were alright to continue.   “Yeah, I am,” you nodded, sitting back on your heels and hissing slightly as they came into contact with your red, stinging arse. Even the pain wasn’t enough to dull the ache between your legs.   “Then why don’t you be a good whore and give Joe a proper thank you,” he turned to leave, stopping long enough to tell Joe not to be afraid to be rough.   “Well come on, thank me. Haven’t got all night,” Joe towered over you as you hurried to unzip his pants, setting his cock free as you slid them down over his hips. You wrapped your hand around him, thankful to be able to use your hands, as you leaned in to drag your tongue over his tip, collecting the precum that had already begun to accumulate. Clearly he’d enjoyed spanking you. From the way he bucked his hips as you took him between your lips, running your tongue along the underside of his cock, you’d say he enjoyed it quite a lot. He let you set your own pace, bobbing your head as you took him deeper before pulling off him entirely, pumping your hand over his length. Your own need was too much to ignore and you trailed your free hand over your thigh, desperate for some sort of relief. You didn’t get very far though before Joe noticed.   “Didn’t say you could do that,” he says as he knocks your hand away with his foot.   “Please, Joe, need to cum so bad,”   “Things like you don’t need anything. You just want it. Maybe you can convince me though.” He pushed on the back of your head and you took the hint, taking him back into your mouth. He left his hand resting lightly on your head but you could feel the weight of it, aware of how easy it would be for him to hold you down and make you choke. It did nothing to alleviate your desire.   “That’s better,” he grunted as you hollowed your cheeks. You picked up the pace, the mere possibility of an orgasm spurring you on. He let out a string of muttered curses as you let him sink deeper, reaching up with your free hand to squeeze his balls lightly. You looked up at him when he grabbed a fistful of your hair, eyes meeting as he snapped his hips towards you, making you gag. When he brought his other hand to your hair you knew you weren’t in control anymore. All you could do was brace your hands on his thighs and try to relax your throat as he thrust into you again and again, heedless of your comfort, your breath, your choked moans. You knew he was getting close by the way he sped up, grunting as he held you down. And then he was out of your throat, covering your chest with his cum while you desperately sucked air into your lungs. You were still gasping when he pulled you back to your feet. He lazily trailed his fingers down your stomach, stopping right before he reached where you wanted him most.    “Joe, please,”   “No. Didn’t convince me. But maybe someone else will take pity on you.” He withdrew his hand, walking away.  
Once again you were going to take matters into your own hands when you were stopped, this time by Ben who was clearly keeping a close eye on you.  “Uh uh uh, that’s not allowed.” he said as he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your dripping cunt, “if you don’t play along properly we’ll have to stop the game, and then you definitely won’t get to cum.”   You whined as he pulled the black bandana from his pocket and tied it round your eyes again.   “Didn’t expect you to lose this so quickly, let’s see how long it lasts before Lucy takes it off again.”   You nodded, vision removed once more.   “Now, are you going to be good or should I tie your hands up again?”   “I’ll be good.”   “Good. Can’t have you misbehaving in front of everyone.” He gave your arse a swat, making you whimper, as he walked off, leaving you alone and unable to see. It didn’t last long, the being alone part at least. One of the guys, you couldn’t tell who, trailed his fingertips over your collarbone, raising goose bumps and making your breath quicken. He remained quiet, giving you no hint to his identity, as he moved up your neck, fingers coming to rest where it met your jaw. He tilted your head to the side as he leaned in to attach his lips to your skin. You could feel your pulse beating hard under his tongue, a moan dropping from your lips as he kissed his way down your throat. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder before he left chuckling at the way you’d cried out. About a minute passed and then another set of hands were on you, rougher than the last. He, whoever he was, grabbed your wrist pulling your hand out so he could spit into your palm before wrapping your fingers around his cock.   
This was exactly how your fantasies normally went – just you and a series of anonymous people using your body however they wanted, rutting into your hand, squeezing your throat as they pinched and pulled your tits, bending you over so they could shove their cock into your mouth or examine the bruises forming on your arse. You could hear snatches of conversations as you were pulled around by numerous hands, never quite sure who was touching you at any given time. On your left you could hear Joe telling someone about the road trip he went on with some friends last month. The juxtaposition of such a casual conversation while you were being fingered to within an inch of your life made your head spin. It was the third time you’d heard the story during the night. Right before he got to the part about almost being left in a truckstop bathroom you heard the familiar click of Lucy’s heels. She was the only one you were certain of when she came close. Well, her and Ben – you had no trouble picking his footsteps or scent from everyone else’s. Perhaps you could have worked out the others except that thinking was becoming harder to do. Your body was covered in splatters of cum at various stages of drying, making you itch, your arse smarted, and you felt like if you didn’t cum soon you were going to combust. You’d been close more times than you could count but never quite got there before those who were fucking you pulled out and left you with their cum straining your underwear or dripping from your lips. You moaned as the fingers still pumping into you sped up.   “C’mon Gwil, be nice and let her cum, she looks desperate,”   So that was who was tormenting you at the moment, Gwilym was the reason you’d been saying nothing but the word please for the last three minutes.   “Think you mean pathetic,” he made no move to alter his pattern  “Well if you wont, I will,” her fingers drifted down towards your clit, circling you slowly as Gwilym continued finger fucking you. It only took a few seconds for her to have you moaning out your release, coating both their hands in your juices as you rode the orgasm for as long as they let you.   “Thank you,” you said breathlessly as both of them removed their hands from you.   Gwilym tapped his fingers against your lips until you let him push them into your mouth. Leaning into your ear he softly said, “I’m going to fuck you again before the night’s done. Properly.” You heard him retreat but then Lucy was grabbing your hand, placing it between her own legs.   “Fair’s fair.”   She was wet, her cunt welcoming you with a squeeze as you let two fingers slide into her. You began to build a steady pace, searching for that spot that would make her knees buckle. She threw her arms over your shoulders for support as you added a third finger, her nails digging into you as you let your thumb land on her clit. Her moans were muffled by your neck as you pushed her closer to her release, curling your fingers and stroking until she came on shaking legs.   “I’m going to have to ask Ben if I can borrow you for a night. Chain you to my bed and play with every inch of you until I can’t cum anymore.”   You lost track of how long you’d stood there, being repositioned over and over. Sometimes you had less than a second before one cock was replaced by another, sometimes you were left alone for what felt like hours, listening for any hint of someone approaching but only hearing the conversations happening around you.   
When Ben announced that dinner was ready everyone moved toward the table, replacing chairs they’d moved around during the night, a couple of people giving you a last squeeze or slap as they passed. Ben knelt down to release your feet and you almost collapsed against him as he led you towards your designated seat. It was one of the chairs taken from the table everyone sat at, pulled off to the side so you were still within view without being the center of attention. He pulled your arms behind the chair, securing you in place with the handcuffs so you couldn’t move. You could smell the roast Ben had spent the afternoon preparing, along with all the accompanying sides that you’d helped him make.    “Is Y/N not eating with us then?” Lucy asked.   “Toys don’t need to eat,”   “She’s probably full anyway,” Joe said matter-of-factly, “y’know, from how much she’s swallowed tonight.”   There were snorts of laughter amongst the tinkling sounds of cutlery and glasses, followed by the melodic buzz of talking, sometimes discussions that involved the whole table, sometimes just kept between two or three people. Occasionally you heard your name mentioned making you jump and focus on the conversation. More often than not it was Ben mentioning you in passing as he talked about the day trip you’d taken to the beach last week or something else equally mundane. But the few less innocent comments you heard made you squirm. Hearing Rami describe how incredible your tits were was enough to have you whimpering, and hearing Gwil talk about how hot you sounded when you came had you clenching your thighs together in your chair.   “Fuck, look at her now,” Joe said, accompanied by the sound of someone shifting their chair for a better look, followed by a louder, “you alright?” directed towards you.    You whined, knowing you sounded completely desperate but beyond caring, as you tried to get some sort of relief.   “Needy whore,”   “Wants to be fucked some more,” said with an accompanying laugh.   “Someone should do it. Dinner and a show.”   “Nah, let her squirm a bit longer,”   “If you boys are quite done, I think I have an idea,”    “She’s all yours,”   You whimpered as Lucy pushed her chair back, listening as the sound of her shoes went past you and then returned a few seconds later.    You got a whiff of her perfume, floral and sweet, as she leaned down, hands resting on your thighs. You could feel something pressed between her palm and your leg but couldn’t work out what it was, not with her talking to you so softly, her breath tickling your ear and sending a shiver through you.    “You wanna cum again, don’t you? Poor thing.”   All you could do was nod, whimpering out a soft, “please.”   You were already trembling as she knelt between your legs, caressing your thighs softly before she hooked her fingers into the band of your thong and slid it off you. She lifted one of your legs onto her shoulder so she could push the unknown object into you before she let your leg drop back down and stood up again. You were panting, unsure why she’d teased you so, as she took her seat again.   “What’d you do, Luce? Nothing happened,” Rami barely finished speaking when you felt the egg vibrator come to life and a small oh slipped out of your mouth. The vibration increased sending you hurtling towards the orgasm you so badly wanted. You clenched your legs together as you moaned through your release, Lucy reducing the power of the vibrator as you came down. You had maybe five seconds to compose yourself before it was being turned back up again, pulling a string of moaned expletives from you as you fell into another orgasm much more quickly than you ever had before.    “There’s your show,” Lucy laughed over your whines as your sensitivity grew.   “Pass me the controller for a minute,” Joe said, “how do you use it?”   “Just spin that wheel, up makes it vibrate more,”   “Like this?”   You jerked in your chair as it got stronger, whimpering when he turned it down again.   “Oh, easy. Think I’m a little scared of you now Luce.”   There was laughter as you tipped over the edge again.   
They didn’t let up until they’d had their fill, finishing their dinner to the sound of your heavy panting and moaned requests to stop as you unsuccessfully tried to squirm away from the constant vibrations. The controller was passed from person to person, each one changing the settings according to their own whim. For a while you were left with a low-level buzzing as the controls sat by Gwil’s plate, untouched, giving you as much respite as you could hope for under the circumstances. But then it was back in the hands of Joe who delighted in making you scream as he turned it up high. By the time everyone had eaten their last bite and complimented the meal, the controls were in Ben’s hands. If you’d hoped for leniency, for a kind word of praise as he set you free, you’d hoped wrong. Ben did halt the vibrator, turning it off as he walked towards you and removed your blindfold again, but he also twisted his hand through your hair so he could tug your head up, forcing you to look at the table. Four pairs of eyes were fixed on you as Ben spun the controls to the highest possible setting, watching as your hips bucked and your back arched as much as your bound position would allow you. You couldn’t even scream as you came again, your voice catching in your throat as all the air was pushed from your lungs at once. When he was satisfied with your performance, Ben turned it off and reached between your legs to pull the egg from you, pocketing it as he began collecting dirty dishes with the help of an insistent Lucy, leaving you twitching in the chair. You closed your eyes for a second in an attempt to settle your pounding heart, opening them to find Rami standing in front of you.   “I know you lost count of how many orgasms you just had,” he said softly as he kneeled between your legs, “but I’m going to take another one from you.” He pushed your legs wider, probing at your entrance with two fingers as he rubbed your clit with his other hand. You didn’t think you could cum again but his unhurried movements built you up despite how sensitive you felt. He watched your every reaction as he changed the angle of his fingers until he found your gspot. You shook as you tipped over the edge again, unable to resist his steady strokes.   “Good girl, knew you had another one for me.” he said as he wiped his hands on his pants. 
“What do you think Rami?” Joe asked as he and Gwilym approached.  “What do I think about what?”   “Best way to play with a girl’s nipples,”   “Oh, I guess, like this,” Rami reached out with one hand, pinching your nipple and rolling it between his fingers before tugging it away from your body, making you loudly whine.   “Is that really your favourite way?”   “It’s a classic. Simple. Easy to control. You can add a twist,” he twisted your nipple until you tried to jerk away, “for a little extra pain if she’s into that.”   Joe scoffed, “You cannot beat sucking on a nipple. It’s clearly the best way,” he lowered his head to your chest, his breath fanning out over your sensitive nipple as he moved closer. He took it into his mouth, tracing his tongue around it and sucking gently. Your eyes fluttered closed, releasing a soft moan at how good it felt until he suddenly clamped his teeth down, making you wince.   “See? Nothing beats a little bit of tongue and teeth. Well okay Gwil, since you clearly disagree, you wanna demonstrate for the class?”   “I don’t necessarily disagree. It just depends on what you want to achieve.”   Joe raised his eyebrows and waved his hand, inviting Gwilym to go on.   “Well if you want her to moan then yeah, either of your methods is great. But if you’re looking for something a little more painful, maybe more of a punishment, you can’t beat the flick.” Without any warning he dropped his hand towards your other nipple, flicking it quickly, making you jolt.   “It’s especially good if you surprise them with it after you’ve been fairly gentle. And the more you do it, the more it hurts.”   “Show me again?”   Gwilym repeated his flicking motion on both your nipples at once, and then again, each one sending a shock of pain through your chest. You whimpered as his fingers were replaced by Rami’s on one nipple and Joe’s on the others, both testing the flick for themselves.   “Okay, that’s pretty good.”   “I’ll expect your cheques in the mail soon,”   “Wonder what Ben thinks,” Joe said, heading off to find out, followed by Rami. Gwilym stayed behind.   “What say we get you out of those cuffs now?” Gwil said as he picked up the keys from where Ben had left them near you. You nodded, expecting there to be a catch, but he leant down behind you and unlocked your restraints without another word. You brought your arms to your front, rolling your wrists, but didn’t have time for anything else before he was dragging you from the chair to the table and pushing you down over it.   “Told you I was gonna fuck you again.”   Your nails scratched over the smooth surface of the table, looking for something to cling on to as he bottomed out. The best you could manage was to grasp the side of the table, knuckles turning white and plea for him not to stop, as he fucked you. You clenched around him, reaching your peak and falling into an underwhelming orgasm right as he pulled out of you. Before you could stand up again he was pulling you backwards and pushing you to your knees.   “Mouth,” he grunted and you had a few seconds to register the way Gwilym was pumping his fist over his cock before he was coating your lips and chin. You had just enough time to swallow what you could lick up before Rami pushed his cock between your lips. It took you by surprise, not having realised the others had returned but you tried to stay relaxed as he thrust into your mouth a couple of times before Joe replaced him. Your hands flew up to grasp their shafts as you alternated between them, sucking one as you jerked the other. Suddenly your hair was being tugged on as Lucy spun your head towards her. She used her free hand to remove her underwear and you obediently leaned in to suck her clit, still jerking Joe and Rami. Lucy pushed you closer to her, your nose nudging her clit as your tongue wandered lower, pulling a few softly spoken expletives from her. You felt like you’d just found the perfect rhythm to please the three of them when you were grabbed under your arms and pulled away. You were dropped on your feet in front of Ben, who sat on the couch. He spun you round and you squealed as he swatted your still sore arse but you bent over for him all the same, trying to relax as he carefully removed the plug he’d wiggled into you that morning. The lube was cold as he squirted a generous amount onto you, using his fingers to make sure you were ready before he pulled you backwards, spreading your cheeks as you slowly sunk down onto him.    “Breath,” he said into your ear and you realised you’d been holding your breath, “You good?”   “Mmhmm,” you tilted your head back, eyes closed as the stretch settled into a deep fullness. Ben leaned into the back of the couch, almost lying down, and you felt your legs being spread. You barely had time to react to Rami plowing into your cunt, the moan getting caught in your throat as Joe filled your mouth with his cock. Somewhere to your left you could hear Gwilym and Lucy laughing about you being sealed airtight but the joke barely registered in your brain, much too concerned with how incredibly full you were. Joe timed his thrusts to match Rami’s, the force making you rock on Ben’s cock even as he stayed relatively still. Your eyes fluttered shut, stray tears clinging to your eyelashes as you tried not to let the mix of sensations overwhelm you. You felt the couch dip a little as Lucy knelt beside you, grabbing your hand and placing your fingers at her entrance. She rocked against your hand, chasing the release she’d been close to getting from your tongue. Gwil grabbed your other hand, wrapping it around his cock, but you hardly noticed his rutting as Ben suddenly thrust up into you. Your whole body felt hot, a fire spreading through you as you were fucked from every angle, a fuzz settling in your brain as the pleasure took over. You shook as an orgasm rolled through you, Rami pulling out of you and jerking himself off onto your tits. As soon as Rami stepped back Joe took his place, pushing deep into you as Lucy brought your head to her chest. She arched her back into you as you sucked a nipple into your mouth. Joe and Ben were so in sync as they thrust in and out of you, filling you more completely than you’d ever felt before.   “Fuck,” Joe grunted as he pulled out of you, cumming over your stomach. You whined as Lucy pushed three fingers into your overly sensitive cunt, your head being pulled away from her breasts so Gwil could fuck your throat. Your own choked moans echoed in your ears as your whole body buzzed and your vision slipped in and out of focus. You felt like you were floating between them, unable to find anything real to cling on to or ground you. You were vaguely aware of Lucy’s rapidly increasing ohs as she rubbed her clit and reached her own release on your hand. She continued to pump her fingers into you, curling them until you were seeing stars. The moan you made around Gwil’s cock had him cursing as he filled your mouth with his cum, watching it drip over your lips as he pulled out. You hastily sucked in a breath of air, it going some way to making you feel less lightheaded, but the breath was quickly pushed from your lungs again as Ben grasped your hips and began to slam you down on his cock repeatedly. It didn’t take him long to reach his own climax, pulling out as he released his load so that it dripped down between your legs.   
You still felt floaty and dizzy as Ben picked you up and lay you down on the couch with a pillow under you head.   “She’s done guys,” he said to the rest of the group, nodding his head to the table as an invitation to join him. Everyone stayed a little while longer, sitting around and talking over coffee and cake like it was a regular dinner party, like they hadn’t just collectively fucked you into a different realm. You stayed curled up on the couch, dozing on and off as you gradually got the buzzing in your body to stop. Your dazed state stretched on as everyone left, snatches of goodbyes floating to you from the doorway. When you thought back a week later you could distinctly remember hearing Gwilym say he’d love to do that again if you were ever going to repeat the experience. Once the door was shut and the music stopped, Ben knelt down by your head, brushing your hair away from your face.   “Y/N?” He said softly. You blinked your eyes open and smiled up at him.   “That was fun,” you felt groggy and tired but you laughed as Ben pulled you into a tight bear hug, “You shouldn’t hug me Ben, I’m covered in cum and smudged makeup and lube and whatever else, gonna ruin your clothes.”   “Clothes shmothes. As if I’m not gonna hug you after that. You were fucking incredible.”   You buried your face in his neck, breathing deeply.   “How do you feel?”   “Like I need a shower.”   “How about a bath?”   “Even better.”   Ben kissed the top of your head before he let you go, wrapping his arm around your waist as he led you to the bathroom. You picked up a facecloth as Ben ran the bath, using it to clean the mascara tear tracks and smudged lipstick from your cheeks and chin.    “Let me help,” Ben said softly, dropping to his knees and unhooking your stockings from the garter belt, sliding both down your legs and throwing them into the laundry hamper. You ruffled his hair in gratitude, the tiredness you felt only getting more pronounced as the seconds slipped by.   The tub wasn’t full but you needed to sit down, carefully stepping over the edge and easing yourself into the hot water. Ben quickly shed his own clothes, adding them to the hamper, and climbed in behind you. You stayed sitting just long enough to turn the water off before the tub overflowed, and then leaned back against Ben.   “How do you feel?” he asked again as he picked up your soap and washcloth, “now that you’re in a bath I mean.”   “Tired and a little sore. And kinda feel like crying but I’m not sure why.”   He ran the washcloth along your shoulder and down your arm, beginning to scrub your skin clean.   “Well I’ve booked you in for a massage tomorrow afternoon, so that should help with the sore. As for the tired, I am gonna make you stay awake a little longer, but you can relax while I take care of you and you can sleep in tomorrow.”   “And the random crying?”   “Just your brain rebalancing. It was flooded with a bunch of endorphins and different emotions. Cry as much as you need to, it’s cathartic and it’ll make you feel better.”   You nodded, tilting your head back to look at him, “did you have a good time?”   “Absolutely. That was so unbelievably hot. Definitely gonna keep me going next time I’m away,”   You both laughed softly as he gently pushed you forward so he could wash your back. He pushed your hair out of the way and traced his finger over a mark on your shoulder.   “You got a few souvenirs from tonight,”   “Is that the bitemark?”   “Yeah. Do you know who left it?”   “Not really. At the time I thought it might be Rami but I’m not sure. What else have I got?”   “Couple red spots where people slapped you. Quite a few scratches.”   “Lucy,” you both said at the same time with a chuckle.   Ben kept talking to you as he shampooed and conditioned your hair and while he wrapped you in a big fluffy towel. He kissed you on the forehead again and told you to go hop into bed, that he’d be with you in a moment.   “And don’t go to sleep yet either. I’ll be quick.”   You did as he asked, having just enough energy to slip into one of his tee shirts and a fresh pair of undies before hopping under the covers. You snuggled down deep, closing your eyes as your head landed on the pillow, ignoring Ben’s request to stay awake. But, try as you might, sleep wouldn’t come. Your body was too amped up, still kind of horny despite everything, leaving you simultaneously dead tired and wide awake. Sitting up again you reached for your laptop, figuring you might as well watch some Netflix or something. And then the tears started, virtually out of nowhere. When Ben came back, in fresh pyjamas straight from the clean washing yet to be put away, he found you hunched over, clutching your knees to your chest and crying uncontrollably. He placed the items he was carrying down on his bedside table before he joined you in bed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you leaned into his chest. He rubbed your back and mumbled soft words of praise until you managed to stop.   “Sorry,” you said as you wiped at your eyes, “it just hit me,”   “Nothing to apologise for babe, I told you to let it out. Do you feel better?”   “A bit, yeah,”   “Here, brought you something,” he handed you a glass of water and a plate of food, everything from the dinner you’d been unable to eat, put aside especially for you, “wanted to make sure you ate something and drank some water before you slept,”   You nodded already biting into a warm potato.   “What d’you want to watch?”   “Don’t care, as long as I don’t have to think.”   He picked an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine at random. You’d both seen it before so it wouldn’t matter if you fell asleep while it played but it was funny enough to keep you entertained as your brain and body relaxed. After you’d finished eating Ben offered you a row from a block of chocolate claiming it’d help your body balance itself and feel more normal. You didn’t know if that was true but you ate it regardless. Finally he was ready to let you settle down. He got up to turn the light off as you packed away the laptop and once again snuggled down under the covers. You hissed slightly as he slid in behind you, coming into contact with your bum.   “Shit, I’m sorry babe, should have got a cold compress on that earlier,”   “‘s alright. Do it tomorrow, it’ll be fine.” your eyes were much too heavy to be worried about how you’d bruise. Ben agreed, pulling you against his chest carefully.   “I love you Y/N, so much,” he said softly as he leaned his head against your neck.   You were already asleep.  
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benmyjet · 5 years
Text
Rewind (Lucy Boynton x Reader Fic)
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Pairing: Lucy Boynton x Reader (modern university time frame)
Word Count: 1.5K
Summary: Despite your pre-existing judgement, you find yourself being pulled towards your new neighbor.
AN: Hi!! This is my first fic ever and I plan for it to be a multi-chapter one! This first part is just more of an expose of reader and lucy’s relationship, you’ll see more of their dynamic (and angst 😈) in the next chapter 🥂I’m baby and a beginner so please let me know your thoughts and ways to improve!
~~~~*~~~~
Coming back home from the first year of uni was like entering the real world after 12 years of solitary confinement. Fresh food from a stove rather than a water heated metal dish. A plush queen bed with natural daylight from your room to prick your eyelids rather than the squeaky twin size mattress that you find yourself waking on top of after the boys down the hall set off the smoke alarms for vaping. Again… 
Perhaps the only con to coming back home was all the old retired foggies that surround you. It was refreshing but lonesome after living among the hoards of young adults that don’t know what to do with their lives. Not to mind though, it was sound sleeping for you without any loud music.
“Y/N!” Your mother calls from downstairs.
“Y/N!”
With the exception of your mother.
You roll off your bed. Glancing in the glass reflection of a picture frame, you don’t look too hot. Your skin greasy from sleep and the acne creams that you applied the night before. 
“What mum?” You drawled as you plopped down the stairs, sitting on the last step
“Look! The new family who bought the house is moving in. They hauled three bookcases out the truck already.” 
Out of the passenger side of the truck popped out a girl with mid length brownish hair. Her frame quickly ducking out of view so she could enter the house.
Your mother continues“She seems like your age, you think she’s from your university?” 
You peer again trying to get a glimpse. Her hair now tied sloppily in a bun as she picks up one of the boxes. You peer down to see an all girls college shirt covering her whole frame. Mary Scott University.
It may have been just your own prejudice or your jealousy of someone so effortlessly beautiful but you didn’t see any hope in the new girl on the street. 
“Jesus Christ” you glance at your mom
“What?”
“She goes to that all girls school—“
“It’s not a bad school Y/N, your dad’s cousin went there-“
“And look where she ended up! She dropped out of dentistry school and is making jewelry for a living!”
“Y/N, don’t judge people so quickly, how do you even make friends in school?”
Annoyed, you bulged your eyes out. In a normal school not an all girls school where they wait til marriage for someone to sexually awaken them.. you thought.
You take one last look at the new movers and retreat to your bedroom. Under the covers you can only find yourself thinking about the new girl.
~~~~*~~~~
The next day your mom calls you down again with more gusto and a sweeter tone.
Interesting… Only until you can hear an unfamiliar voice downstairs you assume there could be some visitors. 
“Yeah, hold on!” You yell out as you try to fix your appearance. You tie your hair up and pull down your night shorts from under your large shirt.
You walk across the catwalk to see below your mom talking to the new girl on the front porch.
She was dressed in a racer back tank top and athletic shorts with a tennis racket bag strapped to one shoulder.
Shit shit shit shit shit!
Your first impression isn’t gonna be strong or even on the same level of confidence that she exudes. Her sweet smile shows off her pristine white teeth. Damn, when was the last time you did a whitening strip?
Her gaze finds yours and you start to feel your hands clam up a little.
Her bright eyes beam and cheeks lift up . “Hi! I’m Lucy!” she says with a small wave 
Your lingering gaze on the way her top hugs her waist is cut short from your mother.
“Y/N, could you walk Lucy to the tennis courts?“
The tennis courts were the first thing that anyone could see when they entered the neighborhood. Right next to the clubhouse and playground adjoined to it. Not too hard to find. But with your mother’s hard smile and urging eyes, you can tell she wanted to make a good impression.
“Uh yeah! Sure let me just-”
“Please don’t go out wearing that.”
“I know ma- I’m gonna go change-”
“Wear something nice—”
“I got it!”
As you see Lucy smile a little bit, you give a flash a teeth before you dash up the stairs in a frenzy to find anything cute. A whole tennis outfit at noon, God she really is Mary Scott material... You suffice for a college T and jean shorts as everything else was either sweaty and stained. You pick off the toothpaste stain on your shirt the best you can before you run downstairs , hearing your mom drawl how you’re not as active as you were before.
“Okay mom you can stop talking about how I’m a glob of fat now.”
Your mother’s eyes narrow at the toothpaste stain and as she raises her hands to examine it you swat it away
You glance at Lucy and give her a big grin “Okay, let’s go!”
~~~~*~~~~
As you both walk out of your front yard to the trail to the recreation area you turn to Lucy.
“So it’s Lucy? Right?”
She grins, “Yeah, and is it Y/N? Am I saying that right?”
“Yeah! You’re good.”
She cocks her head to your shirt. You suddenly feel more aware of the toothpaste stain. 
“So.. you go to Baker’s?
“Yeah! Are you in uni yet?”
“Yeah, I go to Mary Scotts.”
“Kind far from here isn’t it?”
“We used to live a bit further, like 5 hours away so I’m happy for some closer storage for all my college shit.”
Thank fucking god! You curse! I don’t have to watch my tongue.
You and Lucy continue to cycle about and discuss normal college student ice breakers. Despite what you thought, all girls college doesn’t seem that bad, There’s a mix of students in Mary Scott’s area with the other universities nearby. 
“So what’s fun around here?” Lucy asks “Besides the elusive tennis courts you’re taking me to.”
You begin to say something but close your mouth and furrow your brows in deep thought. Lucy chuckles as you draw your mouth in a thin line.
“Honestly… I can’t really say. Most of the neighborhood is just older people, but even when I had friends around we just drove around spending money on food. Was it the same where you used to live?”
“ Not really. We lived more out of the suburbs and I had a few friends around. We mostly just sat around my attic and gossiped”
“Gossiping is the universal binding for all teenagers with nothing to do”
Lucy gave a small chuckle to that and you both fell into silence. You start to overthink what you just said. 
Does she think I’m some vapid image obsessed person? Does she think I’m boring? Ffffuckkk Y/N why do you have to be so weird- Your thinking is interrupted as you reach the courts and Lucy turns to you
“Do you.. uhm do you wanna play with me? I was just planning to practice against the wall but I brought my other racket. Not that this was my plan all along ! But that I sometimes bring two just to kinda feel it out until I’m in a groove or whatever…”
Ahh so she’s nervous too. 
“Nah I understand and yeah! But just to warn you I have ZERO hand-eye coordination.”
Lucy smiles and pulls off a corded hair tie from her wrist and hands it to you, “Do you wanna tie up your hair?” 
You smile and nod and flip your head upside down to gather your strands together between the cords. 
After 10 minutes of playing tennis, only one round ending in a very successful back and forth, you both sat down on the court together rolling the ball back and forth with your rackets. 
 Lucy laughed at your jokes and you laughed at hers. With each time you mention the becomings of an inside joke you see her eyes crinkle and a full toothed smile emerge from her face. 
“Have you moved in completely?”, you ask.
“No, not really, like I still have my clothes to fold and books to organiz-”
“ ...and you came out here to play tennis?”
She rolled her eyes and grinned “ I have all summer to move in” 
“ and then move back in for university” you pause for a moment “Do you need any help? I’m very experienced with placing books upright and folding fabric into 4 sided shapes”
Lucy turns and lifts her brows, “ I don’t know in my house we can only fold our linens into 7 sided heptagons… but I suppose we can use your lifting for the piles of books we have”
She glances at your arms.
“Put those arms to work”
You scrunch your face together and glance between her and your arms. 
“Okay! I get it! So you have all summer to move in and I have all summer to build up my guns.”
Lucy face turns to worry “Oh no! I didn’t mean it like that, you have nice arms Y/N that’s what I am trying to say”
“Aw, well these babies only come out when I’m picking up like Cheerios from my floor. And after failing to hit your throws for like 2 hours.”
“Yeah you really weren’t lying about coordination”
“Hey! I can do other things”
“Elaborate?” 
You begin to speak with confidence but it falters as you can’t seem to find anything worth bragging about. Until...
“You know what, I’ll show you, whenever you want at your house”
“Okay,” Lucy pauses “are you doing anything tomorrow”
“Might be busy with another girl from Mary Scott university beating my ass in tennis but I’ll push her aside just for you” 
Lucy scoffs “ Okay, so maybe 12?”
“That’s when I wake up”
“1?”
“You know let me just give you my number and you give me a wake up call.”
“God, you are true Baker’s material.”
 Seeing as the sky was turning pink, you and Lucy returned to your street, earning a few bug bites on the way back.
“Welp, it was nice to meet you Lucy, I’ll see you later”
You reach your arm out for a hand shake.
But Lucy’s arm invited you into a small hug, a distance between both your chests. You were a little stunned, but wrapped your arms around her anyways. Lucy parted first, with a “Bye Y/N” and a small smile. You couldn’t quite place the small jump in your stomach when she said your name. Turning around you walked back into your house, hoping she’ll remember to call you tomorrow.
~~~~*~~~~
AN: ty for reading and let me know your thoughts! I’ll be posting the next part in two days!
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godknowsqueen · 5 years
Note
Prompt: Ben seeing a frustrating reader srudying for her 2 literature exams coming up and he finds it hella attractive ( i have an exam on wednesday and other on thursday halp)
shakespeare in love? - ben hardy x reader (oneshot)
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“At this point, I don’t know which Shakespeare play I hate more,” you muttered bitterly, holding a piece of paper and resting your face on it. You had a big literature exam coming up, and the studying part never seemed to end. You even had to cancel the movie night you had planned with your boyfriend, Ben, so that you could study. Being the sweetheart he is, he decided to keep you company and to stop you from setting your papers on fire.
You let out a deep groan further expressing how frustrated you were with all the papers as he walks in holding a tray with two mugs of hot chocolate.
“Don’t make sounds like that, (Y/N), I was about to drop the tray,” Ben chuckles, handing you one of the mugs.
“Trust me, there is nothing sexy about my anger towards that exam,” you rolled your eyes at him, but you couldn’t help but smile at his cheeky comment. You take a sip out of the steamy drink, your eyes widening at how good it is.
“Babe, this is too good. Since when do you make really good hot chocolate?” you asked and pressed a quick peck on Ben’s cheek, who was now sitting next to you on the paper-swarmed bed.
“Hmm, since I saw my very adorable girlfriend get angry at an old man who died decades ago,” he slowly licked his lips, almost seductively, causing your cheeks to heat up. You’ve been together for around 7 months now, but his lips never fail to make your heart beat like crazy.
And that man knew it.
You took a deep breath, “Benjamin Hardy, you are making it very hard to focus right now”.
“But you’re studying Shakespeare, and he is all about love. I think the best method to study something is to put it into practice, right?”, he lightly pinched the tip of your nose, his deep green eyes staring right into yours.
“Oh, and which Shakespearean play do you want to practice?” you decided to play back, being so done with studying and so ready to kiss that pretty man. Your faces were only a few inches apart.
“Romeo and Juliet?” Ben muttered, making you erupt in laughter and completely ruining the mood. “Oi, what!?”, he says with a puzzled look on his face.
“Did you forget the fact that they killed themselves in the end? I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like dying at the moment,” you kept laughing, the expression on his face changing from puzzled to slightly provoked.
“You will regret this, (Y/N),” Ben raises his eyebrows, a bit of a mischievous smile forming on his lips.
“Why? Are you secretly the person behind tomorrow’s exam?” you added the snarky comment, crossing your arms together. “And enough distractions! I need to go back to studying this because I’m not planning to stay up all night to read one more play,” you lightly punch Ben on the arm.
“How about some motivation then?”
“And what could that motivation be, sir?” you tease him, resting your hands on your hips.
“Like this,” he utters his words while swiftly placing his warm hands on your waist, slightly lifting your pajama shirt so that the warmth of his hands spreads over your cold skin. His lips quickly find their way on yours, lightly tugging at your bottom lip as his soft tongue passes over it. You were taken aback by the sudden moves he was making on you, but your fingers, as if on cue, were automatically buried in his golden curls, slowly moving lower to brush the skin of his neck.
A low moan escaped from you, causing Ben to deepen the kiss. The intensity of it all made you rest your back on the pillow behind you, and you felt his hands moving towards your waistband. With that, he broke the kiss, resting his forehead on yours.
“Did you like that kind of motivation?” Ben said, a little bit out of breath.
“I think I need more to assess how effective it was,” you let out a little giggle, the tip of your thumb gently pressing on his lower lip.
“Well, as much as it turns me on to see you studying like this, and wanting you so bad at the moment, you have to continue studying, love,” Ben lets out a laugh, pushing a bunch of review papers between your bodies.
“Wait, what?” you looked confused, making him laugh more, a few of his curls falling on his forehead.
“You tease me about by Romeo and Juliet knowledge, I tease you with making you frustrated,” he smugly shrugs, getting up from bed.
“But-”
“No buts, (Y/N),” Ben walks towards the room’s door, “finish up studying and you might just unlock the next chapter of that intense make-out session, how about that, love?” he winks at you, making you blush for the third time in the past 20 minutes.
“Oh, and by the way, you look absolutely cute yet extremely sexy when you’re frustrated. In the study-way and the sexual way as well. I’m such a lucky man to get to see that,” and just like this, he walks out of the room and closes the door behind him.
Oh, Shakespeare, you’re going down.
——————————
Best of luck on your exam, anon! I’m sorry if my writing is a little bit rusty, but I have not written anything in MONTHS. Hope you like this!
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mercurymilkshakes · 3 years
Text
Enchanted | Joe Mazzello
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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: joe mazzello x gn! reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): idk how award shows work lmao is that warning worthy?
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: joe never had trouble feigning polite smiles while at events like these. It is a welcome relief, though, when he meets you- and doesn’t have to fake those smiles.
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓(𝐒): enchanted by taylor swift
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1k
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Award shows were fun for the most part. They were chances to make major connections and meet big names in whatever industry the awards were for; which, in this very particular case, was film.
Joe didn’t necessarily hate these events- more so mildly disliked them. He was an extrovert, of course, and was kind and genuine with every new person that greeted him and shook his hand- but tonight seemed particularly lonely and insincere, for no other reason than he felt as if every smile sent his way was fake and plastered on as a way to pass as polite.
That’s how people were at events such as these, and having gone to the show alone, Joe hadn’t seen a single person that he could have a genuine conversation with.
As Joe forced a laugh at another lame joke from the actor who’d attempted to strike up a chat with him, his eyes wandered among the crowd, searching for a familiar face that could be his saviour.
Then, just as he was about to give up hope on the task altogether, his eyes met yours from across the room.
He’s never met you before, he was sure he’d remember standing across from eyes like yours, but he did happen to recognize you.
You smile at him, dazzling, kind, and real.
He’s enchanted. Seeing you on the big screen could never do justice to seeing you in person, even when you were standing near the other side of the room.
You begin walking towards him, offering gentle nods and pats of the arms when you crossed paths with a friendly face.
Joe’s hands begin to shake, so he plays with the corner of the tablecloth in front of him, only mildly paying attention to the actor at his side as he stares at his plate.
He hears your voice before he meets your eyes, your tone playful and warm.
“Weren’t you that kid from Jurassic Park?” You ask, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as Joe stands to meet you.
He returned the look of mirth as he squinted and tilted his head, “Weren’t you that adult in Jurassic World?”
“Touché.”
Joe reaches out to pull out a chair for you, thanking whatever gods he could think of that his hands had calmed their nervous trembling.
He offered the seat to you, which you graciously took as Joe sat back in his own- not even bothered when he noticed the man who’d been talking at him for the past seventeen minutes had finally moved on to someone else.
You and he spoke softly, Joe chuckled at every joke and watched the way your eyes captured the reflection of the lights all around. He was enchanted by your voice, by your words- every breath you took was another wave of awe flooding his mind.
Even as the show properly started, you continued to whisper amongst yourselves- like children at the back of a classroom.
You shared stories, talked about your most recent projects, you teased and joked about dinosaurs.
Joe couldn’t remember a time he’d had so much fun at an event like this. It was relieving, like a breath of fresh air after years of being locked away. You brought out a side of him he loved, a side he couldn’t get enough of.
He was captivated.
Joe hadn’t had a single sip of the champagne they offered that night, but he felt like your presence was a better intoxicator anyway.
The night continued, the lights sparkled, the cheers were loud and electric. It was the same as any award show, but somehow the atmosphere was different. It was you, Joe knew, that was making him see it this way. It was magic.
He had been enchanted by you, and he kicked himself all the way to his car thinking about how he didn’t take the opportunity to ask you out.
Joe drove home, alone, mulling over and recalling the conversations you’d had, and the quip’s you shared.
He was still a bit red faced, he noticed, as he thought of you, and he knew your smile wouldn’t soon leave his mind.
Oh god, why hadn’t he asked for your number?
This thought didn’t leave his head. How could it? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.
Joe wondered what your favourite colour was, and your favourite warm beverage. He wondered if you preferred chocolate or vanilla, cats or dogs, fries or salad.
He wondered if you loved someone. He wondered if he even had a chance with someone like you.
That night he got home and his mind was reeling at the thought of you- so much so that he didn’t even change out of his suit before laying atop his bed sheets.
Staring at the ceiling, he cursed himself yet again for not saying more, for not asking you more questions when he had the chance.
As these thoughts permeated his mind, he loosened his tie and glanced at his phone as it lit up on the mattress next to him.
Joe brought the phone to his face, ready for another scam notification from his emails or announcement that someone he followed on Instagram had posted.
Instead, his heart stopped when he read the name that had been running through his head since he left the venue earlier that night.
It was a WhatsApp message from a friend of his who was also in the business of acting- and who, as Joe could recall, had worked with you before.
‘Y/N L/N is asking me for your contact, would you mind if I sent it?’
Despite being the picture of poetic discussion in person, Rami always had been very ‘to the point’ over text.
Joe tried not to seem eager in his response of ‘Yeah, sounds good!’
For the second time that night, his hands shook as he waited- for what, he wasn’t completely sure.
Then it happened.
An unknown number appearing in his messages, a giddy greeting, another corny dinosaur joke.
Joe laughed at that, adding your name to his contacts, returning the playful banter, and thanking his lucky stars that you seemed just as enchanted by him as he had been by you.
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The way I did not re read this, oop. Anyway, joe could run me over and I wouldn’t even be mad. and for that matter so could taylor swift, enchanted is such a vibe -♠️
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manndo · 4 years
Text
together we’ll be imperfectly perfect [roger taylor x reader]
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pairing[s]: ben!roger taylor x reader / roger taylor x reader
warning[s]: mentions of morning sickness, pregnancy, maybe a hot minute of angst?
word count: 2.6k
prompt[s]: inspired by the prompt, “it’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka”, from this list.
summary: you and roger are expecting. it wasn’t planned, but you both still thrilled by the news. but now, finding roger in your kitchen at almost six in the morning with a bottle of vodka in front of him, you’re not so sure.
author’s notes: hello! 😊this isn’t my first fic for this borhap fandom, but this is my first fic for a member of queen. though, i will say, i did imagine ben!roger while writing this. but, i think you can imagine this as either or, so do whatever floats your boat! idk if this is helpful, but i did see this set in mid-to-late 70s. i am a little nervous about this, but i still like how it turned out. :) comments, likes, and reblogs are all much appreciated! all mistakes are my own. and, last, but not least, please enjoy!! ❤️
There were two things you knew the moment you woke up; one, it was way too early to be awake on a Sunday, and two, Roger wasn’t next to you.
You shifted to sit up, blinking away the last remnants of sleep as the covers fell off your shoulders and on your lap. Immediately, a shiver coursed down your spine, and you wrapped your arms around yourself for warmth. You glanced at the bedside table. You blinked, once, twice, three times before the numbers on the clock registered in your sleep addled brain; 5:56am. You haphazardly pushed the sheets from your lower body — once again, allowing yourself to be assaulted by the temperature change — before sliding out of the bed, bare feet hitting the carpeted floor with barely any sound. 
Slowly, your body still heavy with sleep, you made your way out of your bedroom, keeping your eyes peeled for your missing boyfriend. It wasn’t hard, in your tiny flat, to notice the kitchen light was on. You could even hear the opening and closing of a cabinet or two before you heard two dull thuds. The thuds were followed closely by the scratching of one of your kitchen chairs on the linoleum. You rounded the corner to find Roger sitting down at your kitchen table, two items set before him — a bottle of vodka and an empty glass.
You leaned against the closest wall, and crossed your arms over your chest. “Don’t you think it’s a bit early for vodka, Rog?”
Roger’s head snapped up, his blue eyes widening as they landed on you. It was clear he had been lost in his own world to notice you had entered the room. “Hey, what are you doing up?”
“Well,” you started, dragging out the end of the word as you pushed yourself off the wall, “I was sleeping. Peacefully, might I add, but I think,” you said, taking the two steps into your kitchen, “you leaving had something to do with that.”
A look of guilt flashed over Roger’s features, and he looked down to the empty glass in front of him. He didn’t make a motion to move, or to speak. His silence made you uneasy.
“So.” You cleared your throat, grabbing the chair opposite of Roger, and pulling it out, the chair scratching uncomfortably across the linoleum as you did. “I’m going to ask you again.” You took a seat on the chair. “Don’t you  think it’s a bit early to be drinking?” you finished, looking straight at Roger’s hunched form.
Silence. It sat between and above you two heavily; neither of you moved, Roger sitting perfectly still across from you. He hadn’t even tried to open the half-full bottle of vodka. He was eerily silent, which filled you with an uneasiness that seeped into your bones. You shifted on the chair, unable to keep yourself still any longer; the chair creaked under your weight, breaking through the heavy silence.
“‘M scared,” he mumbled tentatively, his voice soft, barely above a whisper. His words, and voice, caught you off guard. Roger was always the confident (sometimes his confidence bordered on cocky), self-assured, and unafraid one in your relationship. It was rare for Roger to sound this nervous, this scared. It made your stomach churn. 
And, you knew exactly why.
The baby. Your baby. Roger’s baby.
It had been, unexpected, to put it mildly. You’d thought the two of you took every precaution; but it was easy to get caught up in the moment with Roger, and before you knew it, you were late. You had irregular periods before, so you weren’t too worried. That was, until one week late became two weeks late, and then, one morning, you found yourself hunched over your toilet, and you knew. You did four home tests to make sure. All of them glaringly, achingly positive. 
While you were overjoyed, you couldn’t help the feeling of dread that had settled in the pit of your stomach. This was uncharted territory for you, and for Roger. Your relationship was still fairly new, only a year old, and you weren’t even living together. You could only recall discussing children maybe once or twice in the past year, and that was to agree that children were wonderful and you both wanted some at some point. But, in the future, the very distant future. Not now, not when Queen was sitting pretty at the top of the charts and Roger was about to fly off on another tour. 
However, that distant future turned into now, and so you braced yourself for the possibility that this wasn’t what Roger wanted. That maybe, Roger wouldn’t want this baby, and that thought terrified you. You wanted this baby, you knew that the moment you took your first test because even though they weren’t planned, they were yours, and you couldn’t imagine a life without them. If Roger didn’t want this, you knew that there was a chance he’d leave. 
You prepared for the worst as you sat down and told Roger the news, keeping your eyes trained on his face the entire time. You watched as a smile broke out over his face, bigger than you’d ever seen, and his eyes lit up with pure, unadulterated joy. You hadn’t planned for that, and you sure as hell hadn’t planned for him picking you up in the middle of your living room, and twirling you around, laughing brightly in your ear. He could barely contain his excitement (not that you had done any better, if the tears falling down your cheeks were any indication). However, that was almost twenty-four hours ago. Now, as the hours ticked by, it seemed reality was setting in, and you were positively terrified about what was going to happen next.
“Do you—” you stopped, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, and looked down at your hands in front of you. “Do you not want—”
“No!” Roger exclaimed, causing you to jump ever so slightly, and you looked up in surprise, catching Roger’s blue eyes. He was looking at you now, for the first time since you came into the kitchen. “No, I don’t — I want this, love,” he said, and you felt yourself take a deep breath, relief filling your veins. “I want this baby with you. I’m just — I terrified I’m going to royally fuck this up,” he admitted, gazing back down at his own hands resting on the table.
A beat of silence passed between the two of you.
“I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby,” he started, and you watched as he began to tap his fingers against the table. “I mean, what if I mess up? What if I do something wrong? Make a mistake? Hurt them?” You could see he was getting more frustrated with himself as the seconds ticked by in the way his fingers picked up speed, and the lines settling in his brow. You reached out and placed your hand over his, ceasing his tapping. He looked up toward you, and you could see the worry sitting deep in his bright blue eyes. It made your heart constrict in your chest.
“Roger, you won’t—”
“There is also the tour coming up,” he said, forging ahead. “I’m going to be gone for a few months, and then after that, it’s the studio. How am I supposed to be there for you and the baby? What if I miss something, something big, like their first steps? First word? Hell, love, what if I’m not there when they’re born?”
You squeezed his hand. “Roger, slow down,” you said, voice soft, but commanding. You watched as Roger took a deep breath, and you smiled softly, reassuringly toward him. You brushed your thumb over his wrist, and felt his pulse racing.
“I’m scared too, Rog,” you admitted, because even though you were excited, you were still scared. In a little over six months, you’d have a baby, a baby that would rely on you, on Roger. It was a daunting task, and terrified you to pieces, but you were excited. “I think that, now that we’re going to be parents, we’re always going to be scared. It is just part of being a parent,” you explained gently. “And are you going to fuck up? Yes.” You watched Roger’s eyes go wide. Immediately, you could see the anger begin to flare. “We both are, Roger. No matter how many books we read, or what advice we get from the boys, our parents, we are bound to make some mistakes along the way. But, we’ll learn from them and move forward, be ready when the next kid comes crawling along,” you joked with a small chuckle as Roger raised an eyebrow.
“The next one?”
You shrugged nonchalantly. “You never know,” you commented, giving him a small, sly smile.
Roger let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “We should probably see how this one goes first, love.”
“I think it will go swimmingly,” you said confidently, and you watched as Roger tilted his head, his lips pulling in a small, disbelieving grimace. You squeezed Roger’s hand. “You’re going to be an amazing dad, Rog,” you said softly, confidently as you tilted your head to catch his eyes. He avoided your gaze at all cost. “Hey, look at me.” Roger did, a bit reluctantly. You stared straight into his beautiful blue eyes. “You’re going to be an amazing dad,” you repeated once more, your voice a little louder than before, accenting each and every word so he heard them, loud and clear. “Our child is going to be lucky and proud to have you as their papa. There is no one, no one, else I would want to have a child with other than you, Roger Taylor.”
Roger scoffed. “You sure about that?”
You smiled. “A hundred and ten percent. And, you wanna know why? Because you, sir, are going to love this child unconditionally, without question, with your whole heart and then some. This child is going to be so loved and doted on — by you, by me, by the boys, our families. They’re never going to be alone, not for a second,” you said, feeling tears pooling at the back of your eyes. “I know you’re going to gone sometimes. That’ll be tough, but we’ll always be here when you get back. Plus, it’s not like we can’t come visit you when you’re out on tour,” you said, a smile pulling at your lips. You thought of holding your little one, headphones covering their ears, the two of you watching Roger from the side of the stage. “I am sure our little one will love seeing how amazing of a drummer their daddy is. Who knows, they might even take after him one day,” you finished, feeling a tear of joy slipping down your cheek. You watched as Roger smiled, reaching out his free hand and wiping the tear away with his thumb.
“Personally, I hope they take after their mum,” he mumbled, voice low. He brushed a strand of your hair away from your face, a small smile pulling at his lips. “She’s a beautiful, strong, wonderful woman, you know?”
You let out a small chuckle, feeling a few more tears slide down your cheeks. “Eh, she ain’t too bad,” you replied, locking eyes with Roger, and smiling. 
A silence surrounded the two of you once more, this one peaceful, calm, and you kept your eyes on Roger. He seemed to be calmer, less worry shrouding his face. He seemed content for the first time since you’d come out here. It made your heart swell. “Come on,” you said softly, patting his hand before pushing your chair away from the table, “let’s get back to—”
“Marry me?”
It felt as if freezing water had been poured down your back. “Rog—”
“Marry me,” he repeated, his blue eyes boring into your own. For a brief moment, you thought he might be pulling your leg, taking the piss, and you were ready to smack him upside the head because this was not something to joke about. But, when you searched his bright blue eyes for any sign that he was kidding, there was none. His eyes were nothing but open, honest, sincere — he meant it, deep from the heart and that thought caused your own to pick up speed inside your chest.
“I know this isn’t how you imagined it, I’m sure. I don’t even have a ring,” Roger said, voice quaking slightly. “I’ll get you one though, the prettiest one I can find you. I promise, any ring you want, I’ll get it for you. I don’t care about the price,” he rambled, his words picking up speed. Roger pushed back his chair, the legs squeaking across the linoleum, the sound reverberating against the walls. “Whatever you want, love. Whatever you want.”
You stared, wide-eyed, at Roger, not quite believing the words coming out of his mouth. You watched him, and swallowed. “Roger—” you started as he came to stand in front of you. In a split second, he was on his knees, grabbing both of your hands in his, and squeezing. Roger’s grip was so tight, you thought you would lose circulation to your hands at any moment. 
Roger’s bright blue eyes were shining with unshed tears, and you felt your own tears forming behind your eyes for the second time that night. This was all you wanted. You wanted to say yes, scream it from the top of your lungs. Yet, a sense of dread sat heavy in the pit of your stomach, stopping you. What if this was all because of the baby? Did Roger really want to marry you? Or, did he only felt obligated because you were pregnant with his child? You couldn’t — wouldn’t get married just because you had a child together. That wasn’t fair — to you or the baby.
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Roger, is this,” you started, voice cracking with emotion, “if this is because I’m pregnant—”
“Love—”
“And, you feel, feel some sort of obligation—”
Roger’s grip tightened on your hands. “No, I don’t—” he said, a hint of frustration and anger laced in his words. “That’s not why — that’s not why I’m asking you to marry me, alright?” he said, voice raised ever so slightly. You flinched, and immediately, Roger’s face softened. 
A second passed before Roger let out a sigh, looking away from you and letting go of your hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—” He huffed, and ran a hand roughly through his hair. “I probably should have thought this through a little more,” he muttered.
“Probably,” you mumbled, watching Roger shift on his knees, a dusting of pink filling his cheeks.
“You’re the one who said we’re going to make mistakes, right?” Roger countered, a sly smirk appearing on his lips, his hand coming to rest on your knee. 
“Well,” you started, raising a hand and threading it through Roger’s blonde mane, “your timing was absolute rubbish.” Roger let out a nervous chuckle. You smiled down at him. “But, I wouldn’t call it a mistake,” you finished, and scratched his scalp lightly. 
Roger’s face lit up. “So, I didn’t completely fuck it up?”
You twirled a few stray strands of Roger’s blonde hair between your fingers. “Not completely.” You gave him a soft smile, which was swallowed up a millisecond later by Roger’s lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. It only lasted a few moments, but when Roger pulled away, he was grinning from ear to ear. You had a matching grin on your lips. “Just make sure, the next time you ask me, you’ve got a ring, Taylor.”
“You got it.”
192 notes · View notes
freddiesaysalright · 4 years
Text
A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Chapter 5
Gwilym!Prince Charming x Reader
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Summary: After losing your parents, your step-family makes your life impossible. That is, until Prince Gwilym holds a ball. It’s your one chance for everything to change.
Word Count: 4.1k
Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @im-an-adult-ish, @queen-paladin, @rogerina-owns-me, @mirkwoodshewolf, @namelesslosers, @headl0ng, @captvianswaan, @folietracksix​, @baltimoresweethearts​, @killer-queen-87​, @haileymoreolikestupid, @itsametaphorgwil​, @misslolasworld​, @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen​
A/N: It’s the grand finale! Thank you again for all the lovely responses to this fic! I can’t believe I’m almost done with the Disney AUs already! also i barely proofread this because i was so excited to post it so if you see a typo no you didnt
Warning(s): brief descriptions of abuse
Moodboard
Prologue  Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4
Chapter 5 here we go!!!
Frank and his daughters came home about an hour after you did. You were already back in your servant clothes and waiting by the door. You took their cloaks and bags, and began hanging them on the rack in the main hall. 
“How was your night?” you asked politely. 
“It was a splendid evening, Y/N,” Frank answered. “More than you could ever hope for.”
“I’m sure it was,” you returned, holding back a smirk. If only he knew. 
“I’m relieved to see you have not stolen anything else from my wife’s closet,” he sneered.
You shook your head. “No, sir. I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve been thoroughly educated.”
“Very good,” he said, seeming displeased that he couldn’t goad you. 
But nothing could spoil this night. It was perfect. 
“Is there anything you need before going to bed?” you asked. 
“I’m fine, but you’ll of course help the girls get changed,” he said. 
You nodded again. “Absolutely.”
He watched you suspiciously as you followed your step sisters up the stairs. You were calm. Too calm. And you were humming, which you didn’t normally do. Plus the tune was something he had heard somewhere - but no event would have had you in attendance. His frown deepened. Something was up.
***
Gwilym returned to the palace two hours later, empty handed and broken-hearted. Rami and Ben were waiting on the steps for him, but as he walked up, he only shook his head. They sighed, disappointed for their friend. Thankfully, the remaining guests had all gone home. 
“Sorry, mate,” Ben said. 
“There was no sign of her?” Rami asked. 
“No,” Gwilym said. “Even the carriage tracks just seemed to disappear. It was like she just vanished.”
“So, all we’ve got to go on is the shoe?” Ben wondered, holding it up. 
Gwilym had only entrusted his best friends with it, and they had kept it from his father. 
“It’s made of glass,” Gwilym said. “Which means it only fits her.”
“So what are we gonna do?” Rami asked. “Try the shoe on every woman in the kingdom?”
“Only the single women,” Gwilym said, as if it were obvious.
Rami and Ben shared a surprised look. 
“I hope you’re joking,” Ben said. 
“Far from it,” Gwilym replied. “I’m going to find that girl, and I’m going to marry her.”
Rami sighed. “Very well, then. But let’s start in the morning.”
“Thank you both,” Gwilym said, relieved. They had every reason to leave now. Both had duties at home, and had done what was socially expected. With the ball over, there was no obligation to stay. “Really.”
“Of course we’re gonna help you,” Ben said. “But I’m with Rami. Starting tomorrow.”
“You guys go on up, I’ll be right behind you,” Gwilym insisted. 
His friends shrugged, but did as he requested and went inside. Gwilym remained, holding that glass piece of you carefully in the crook of his arm. He looked out into the night sky, hoping somehow you could feel his desperation. 
“I am coming for you, my darling,” he said quietly. 
***
You yawned as the sun peered into your room through your curtains. You were feeling unusually light this morning. Like you were still floating just above the ballroom floor. With a contented sigh, you stretched and forced yourself out of bed. Frank and the girls would be needing their breakfast soon, but you knew you had a little extra time today. They’d certainly have a bit of a lie in after the late night. 
You threw your dress and apron on. You did a spin around your room, giggling as you imagined Gwilym there with you. Then you had to slow to a stop. It was a fantasy, nothing more. One glorious night. But now it was time to return to reality and your true life. Still, you could cling to the dream for one morning.
Humming to yourself, you put the pot on to boil and began prepping plates for breakfast. You set a pan atop the stove to start some sausages when you heard the jingle of a bell. You looked at the wall. It was coming from Eleanor’s room, so you guessed she was up. You asked Elsie to start the food and went back upstairs to get your step sister dressed. When you reached the landing, you saw Frank emerging from his room, already dressed. 
“Good morning,” you said kindly. 
“Y/N, what did you get up to last night?” he asked. 
“Why, nothing, sir,” you said. “I cleaned up, as you instructed, changed clothes, and got a head start on some other chores. When those were done, I occupied myself by reading.”
He seemed skeptical. “I see. I hope you weren’t reading anything too fanciful. You mustn’t fill your mind with...unrealistic dreams and fantasies.”
Your brow furrowed with confusion. What was he implying?
“No, sir,” you said. “I try to keep everything practical.”
“Good,” he said. “Now get to work.”
You nodded, a bit perplexed, but continued into Eleanor’s room.
***
In the morning, Gwilym was the first up. He hardly slept at all. He wrote a decree for his father to send out, that he and Ben and Rami would be making the rounds through town and the countryside to find the owner of the missing shoe. They would begin today, and search until the prince had found his lost love.
To his shock, the king agreed to this. He read over it at the breakfast table, nodding at each point. The ladies were to try on the shoe and if it fit, it must be the girl who Gwilym met at the ball.
“Very well,” he said. “You’ll begin today?”
“Yes,” Gwilym said. “I want to find her as soon as possible.”
“Alright, son,” the king replied. He looked at the prince and offered a sincere smile. “And best of luck.”
Gwilym beamed. “Thank you, Father!”
And so, they began their search within the palace, where the out of town noble guests were staying. Gwilym had his doubts about those girls because he met them before you even came through the door. But he knew everyone deserved a fair chance. When the shoe fit none of those women, they made their way into town, with a few guards along for protection. 
***
Frank received a letter from the palace early in the morning. He looked it over and you saw a flash of...something cross his face. You couldn’t place the emotion though. It seemed almost like a glimmer of hope. His eyes glanced over at you before quickly turning to his daughters. 
“Girls, get yourselves looking nice,” he said. “We’ll be having visitors from the palace this afternoon.”
“The palace?” you questioned, without meaning to, but you could hardly help yourself. 
“Yes, but that isn’t any of your business, Y/N,” he snapped. “Get my daughters ready and then proceed with your chores as usual. You are not to make your presence known while the visitors are here.”
You nodded apologetically. As you made your way back to the kitchen, you wondered if the visitors Frank referred to could be Gwilym and his father. Was he looking for you? Something in your heart told you he was, but you hardly even dared to hope. Such a thing was the stuff of dreams. And yet, the ball seemed like a dream too, but it was as real as the tea kettle you carried. You began devising a plan. 
As the day wore on, you completed your chores quickly. You wanted to prepare yourself as well. Your gut was telling you Gwilym was on his way to take you away from here. And you had all the proof you needed in that slipper that was hidden beneath your bed. So when you finished sweeping the entrance hall, you ran up to your room to get it. Only, when you opened your door, you came to an abrupt stop. Frank was sitting on your bed, holding the slipper by the heel. One wrong move of his fingers and it would fall, risking a break. 
“Well, well, well,” he said darkly. “I had a feeling you had made your way to the ball. You’ve been far too dreamy to have had as dull a night as you claim.”
Your heart rate quickened. 
“That’s mine,” you said, feeling childish as the words left your mouth. “It was given to me.”
Frank laughed humorlessly. “Oh, likely story. I suppose this is another one of my wife’s things you stole.”
“You cannot stop me from this,” you said, ignoring the accusation. “The prince loves me.”
“Against his better judgement, I believe that’s true,” he admitted.
You blinked, surprised at your step father’s nonchalance about this. Did that mean he would accept it? No. There had to be something else he was getting at. 
“As it is, though,” he said. “You’re spoken for.”
You frowned as your stomach dropped. 
“What are you talking about?” you asked. 
“You’re mine, Y/N,” he said, getting to his feet and straightening his jacket with his free hand. “And mine alone.”
A chill ran down your spine. Was he really saying what you thought he was saying?
“I’m not a slave, Frank,” you said. “I am free to do this.”
“I do not intend to make you my slave,” he said. “I intend to make you my wife.”
Your body went rigid as the blood ran out of your face. The very idea made your stomach churn. The thought of being his wife, sharing his bed, bearing his children...you nearly heaved right there in front of him.
“No,” you said firmly. “I won’t.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” he said. 
“It’s sick!” you cried. “I’m your daughter!”
“Step daughter,” he said. “I will have this estate, Y/N. You will do for me what your mother could not. My son will be the true and rightful heir, and start a new line.”
“Are you not happy with the children you have?” you wondered, completely rocked to your core. “Why do you insist on a son?”
“Sons are the only useful offspring,” he scoffed. “Daughters are just mouths to feed until you can marry them off, and even then, what’s theirs will never belong to their family. It belongs to their husbands. Well, I am not going to lose everything because my previous wives were too weak to give me what I want.”
“I will not,” you refused again. “I’ll run away.”
“And leave behind your home?” he taunted. “The one your father built so lovingly with your mother?”
“It will no longer be a home to me if I am trapped in such a marriage,” you said. 
“I’m not giving you a choice, Y/N,” he sighed. “I’ll keep eyes on you everywhere, I’ll lock you in your room, whatever it takes. Or, you can submit to me now and become mistress of this house as you were born to be.”
“I’ll die before I marry you,” you spat. “I’ll die before I bear any child of yours. I’ll -”
“No need to go on,” he said. He was being alarmingly calm about this. “I know the rest. But you will marry me, Y/N. You will have my son, and you’ll do it all without complaint. Just as you have with everything I have ever given you.”
You blinked again. So everything he’d put you through was a test? A way to manipulate you into obeying his every command? He was...grooming you? Your stomach gave another lurch.
“But first,” he said. “We will need to squash your dreams of Prince Gwilym.”
“What do you -”
He cut off your question by hurling your slipper into the wall. It shattered with a crash, which drowned out your anguished cry. You sank to your knees, hopeless. 
“There now,” he said. “I’m only teaching you the harsh lesson of reality.” 
Tears fell freely down your cheeks. You heard loud knocking at the front door, but barely registered it. 
“That’ll be him,” Frank said. 
You snapped to your senses and started to rise for one last desperate escape attempt, but Frank was faster. You felt the blow of his palm against your cheek before you even saw it coming. You fell to the ground, face throbbing. You wanted to scream, or cry, or swing back at him, but you were completely numb from the shock. You couldn’t feel anything but the sting on your skin.
“Do not resist me again, Y/N,” Frank warned. 
With that, he walked out of your room, and you heard him turn the lock. You were trapped. You curled into a ball on your floor and wept quietly. 
***
Gwilym was relieved when the door finally opened. This was the last house of the day. He saw a man there, whose smile was...unconvincing to say the least. He bowed. 
“We are happy to see you, Prince Gwilym,” he said. “I am Frank Tarleton, and I believe one of my daughters is the girl you’re searching for.”
Gwilym raised a brow. “But you don’t know which?”
Frank blinked, taken aback, and then laughed an empty sort of laugh. “Good one, your highness. Please, come in.”
Gwilym looked at Ben and Rami who both shrugged. They followed Frank inside and into the drawing room, where two young women sat on the couch, looking nervous. Ben explained everything, with Frank nodding eagerly along. Something about the man struck Gwilym as slimy. He was too polite, too eager to please, and it seemed even his own daughters were made uncomfortable by him. Gwilym sighed. 
“Let’s get this over with,” he mumbled. 
He was beginning to lose hope. Who was left, if not these girls? And yet, neither of them struck him as the one he was looking for.
***
You listened carefully at your door, not daring to make any more noise. If Frank returned, he might do worse than strike you. But you could listen to what was happening downstairs. 
It was a bit maddening to hear, though. To be so close to Gwilym now, and yet so far. To be a prisoner now in your own home was worse than being a servant. And the worst part was seeing the proof of your identity lying in pieces beside you. You felt like the slipper. Broken. Completely in pieces. Like your dreams too. 
You heard the front door open and close again. You went to your window and watched Gwilym mount his horse, his friends on either side of him, and trot away toward town. Was that truly the last time you would see your love?
It couldn’t be. Now, you could hear Frank’s familiar footsteps coming back up the stairs. You knew you had to make a break for it as soon as he opened the door. You braced yourself. You had no time to pack anything, no time to grab money or valuables. You would have to break away with nothing but the clothes on your back and a prayer. 
You watched the doorknob turn, feeling as if everything was in slow motion. It creaked slowly open and Frank’s body appeared in the door frame. He reached for you, but you ducked under his arm, darted down the hall, flew down the stairs, and straight out the front door. 
You ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even daring to look back to see if Frank was in pursuit. You just hurtled toward town, hoping that anyone could help you. You would give up your home, and everything you knew - you would even give up your life - before marrying Frank. You had to escape, even if it meant becoming a beggar. 
You burst through the back door of the tavern, tears streaming down your cheeks, and chest heaving. Flying through the kitchen, you threw open the doors to the dining area and found Zelda behind the bar. She looked up at the commotion you were making, took in the sight of you, and her brow furrowed. 
“Zelda, please!” you cried, frantic. “I need help!”
You went to her, and she took you in her arms. 
“Y/N, what’s -”
She didn’t get to finish her question before Frank came barreling through. He must not have been far behind. You let out a scream. Zelda pushed you behind her and you cowered at her back. She put her arms out to shield you further. 
“Zelda, remove yourself if you know what’s good for you,” Frank threatened. 
“Don’t, Zelda, please!” you begged. “Don’t let him take me! He’s going to force me to marry him! Please!”
She stiffened in front of you. “Oh, no you don’t, Frank. I will not stand by and let you do this.”
“Stand back or you’re fired,” he warned. 
“I don’t care,” she shot back. “I won’t let you have her!”
“I’m afraid it’s not up to you,” he returned harshly. 
He grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to move her, but Zelda was a stout woman with considerable strength. She resisted him, taking hold of his biceps and forcing him back several steps. Her advantage was clearly gained by the element of surprise. 
“Run, Y/N!” she cried. “Get out of here!” 
Panicked, you leapt over the counter and wrenched the door open. You threw yourself out of it, trying to ignore the sounds of the struggle behind you. You darted into the street and sprinted as fast as you could away from the tavern. You had no idea where you would go from here - but you could not stay and be forced into a lifetime of Frank. 
You glanced back. To your horror, you saw that Frank was emerging from the tavern and had spotted you right away. With a gasp, you turned back around and sped up. Only, as you turned, you didn’t realize what was in front of you. You ran right smack into a man’s back. The force of the collision put you on your rear in the dirt. 
Wincing, you looked up. Your jaw dropped. It was Gwilym!
He met your gaze and froze as well. For a moment, you were both back at the ball, when he’d come up to you on the stairs and asked you to dance. He recognized you instantly. 
“It’s you,” he whispered. 
You opened your mouth to respond, but a sudden stinging on your scalp caused you to cry out instead. Frank had fisted his hand around your hair and dragged you to your feet. 
“Your highness!” he gasped, noticing Gwilym. “I do apologize. My servant here has forgotten her manners.” He looked at you and continued through gritted teeth. “And her place.”
He yanked your hair on the last word for extra emphasis. Gwilym’s chest tightened as he watched Frank manhandle you. He briefly imagined himself drawing his sword and plunging it right into Frank’s chest, but he refrained. 
“Release her,” he ordered. 
Frank looked at the prince, bewildered. 
“I’m sorry?” he questioned.
Gwilym’s expression darkened. “I told you to release her.”
Frank hesitated. 
“Now!” Gwilym shouted. 
You relaxed when Frank finally let go. Your scalp still itched with soreness. You desperately wanted to throw yourself into Gwilym’s arms but you were still afraid of what Frank might do. You did take a cautious step back. 
“Your highness, I’m dealing with an unruly servant girl,” Frank said. “But she is mine and I may do with her as I please.”
Your lip trembled and you shook your head. 
“That’s not true,” you sobbed. “You know it’s not, I’m your step daughter and you’re forcing me to -”
“SILENCE!” Frank roared, and raised his hand.
You shrieked and covered your face with your arms. But the blow didn’t come. You peeked out, lowering your shield just barely. Gwilym had taken hold of Frank’s wrist. Rami and Ben, who you just noticed being present, both had their hands on their swords. Now was your chance. 
“Don’t let him take me back,” you begged again. “Please, your highness, don’t let him.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Zelda trotting up the street. She halted when she took in the scene before her. 
“Sir Tarleton,” Gwilym said, releasing Frank’s arm. “We were at your home and I asked you if you had any more women residing there besides your daughters. You lied.”
“It wasn’t a lie, really,” Frank argued. “Just an omission. You see, there’s no way this girl was at the ball when I forbid her from going.”
“If that’s true, then you are still in trouble,” Gwilym said. “All eligible maidens were to attend.”
“She’s only a servant -”
“I know you’re lying, Tarleton,” Gwilym interrupted. “Now stand down.”
Frank stepped away from the prince, shooting glances between him and you. Gwilym turned to Ben.
“The slipper please, Ben,” he said. 
“No!” Frank protested, starting toward you, but Rami stopped him.
Ben handed Gwilym the slipped you’d left behind on the staircase. You wiped your cheeks, clearing away the dirt and tears, and held your prince’s gaze. You smiled at him.
“I knew you were the girl from the tavern,” he said gently. “I knew I recognized you.”
“And the cemetery,” you reminded him.
“Yes,” he chuckled. “I remember.”
“How did someone like you even notice someone like me?” you wondered, amazed. 
“Because you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” he told you simply. “Inside and out. And from that moment in the cemetery I saw what you truly are - a princess.”
You flushed, looking bashfully at the ground. 
“I’m not really a -”
“Maybe not by birth,” he said. “But in heart.”
You met his eyes again. Those eyes that from the first time you saw them, told you the kindness of this man’s soul. 
He knelt down onto one knee, holding out the slipper. It made you ache for the lost one Frank smashed, but you were relieved that you had left one behind at the palace. You toed off your boot and raised your leg. Ben stepped closer to help you balance and you shot him a grateful look. Then, you slid your delicate foot into the glass slipper. It fit perfectly. 
Gwilym’s face lit up like a firework. Ben let go of your hand as Gwilym laughed, took you up in his arms and spun you around. You giggled with joy as well. He lowered you gently to the ground.
“Now, will you please tell me your name?” he asked. 
You chuckled. “It’s Y/N.” 
“Y/N,” he repeated, and cupped your cheek in his palm. “How beautiful.”
“No!” Frank shouted again, and this time Rami had to grab him to stop him. “No! You cannot take her from me!”
“The girl does not belong to you,” Gwilym said sternly. He turned and faced Frank. “I see very clearly now that you have been mistreating her. She is free to choose whatever she likes.”
“I’m her father!” Frank insisted. 
“Step father,” you said. Then you looked up at Gwilym. “I choose you, my love.” 
“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied. “Sir Tarleton, you’ll be taken into custody.”
Frank’s eyes went wide as the guards moved to take him from Rami. They clapped iron rings around his wrists. He seemed too shocked to struggle. 
“Take him to the dungeon to await trial for his crimes,” Gwilym instructed. He faced you again. “And you, my darling, may come with me to the palace.”
“For how long?” you wondered. 
“Forever, if you wish it,” he assured you. 
“I could hardly wish for more,” you said happily. 
He took your hand and helped you onto his horse. Together, you headed for safety, and building a life together. In true love.
***
You and Gwilym married as soon as possible. The whole kingdom was thrilled at the wedding. Frank was tried and convicted for his abuse, but would not serve a life sentence, so instead of prison, he was banished from the kingdom. Even so, early in your marriage to Gwilym, you frequently had nightmares where your stepfather returned. 
Gwilym was as loving and patient a partner as you could hope for. He let you talk through your trauma, and he made sure to never do anything that caused you fear. His support helped you to truly heal. 
Your step sisters had to move from the estate, which was now yours entirely. Eleanor and Miranda were surprisingly happy to take over their father’s first business, the tavern, which they ran successfully with Zelda. They both eventually found merchant husbands and lived peacefully, and you were genuinely happy for them.  
But the greatest joy Gwilym ever gave you was your children. You had two boys and two girls, and they were the light of the whole kingdom’s eye - but especially the king, who lived a long and healthy life with his grandchildren. You had no other description for your life besides happily ever after.
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angrylizardjacket · 4 years
Text
heard your name in every love song {Ben Hardy} 1
1. when he was looking out for me (i would pretend he was my summer fling)
Summary: When you’re twelve and you have a crush on your babysitter, your parents think it’s puppy love, think it’s cute, and you’ll forget about it soon enough.
A/N: 2266 words. Female!Reader. okay so the sprained ankle in Space Jump is a direct reference to something that happened in my theater class, that being a dude snapped his fucking femur playing Fruit Salad. RIP adam’s femur for the following few months. he’s fine now, that was like 8 years ago. whatever. are all these theater games i mention real? i’ll never tell. here’s part 1. DISCLAIMER: NO CREEPY SHIT I SWEAR TO GOD I WOULDN’T DO THAT; THERE’S A LITTLE BIT OF PINING FROM Y/N BUT THAT’S IT. there’s a few assumptions made abt Y/N’s life; only child, parents (plural, idk how many, doesn’t matter), plays Crash Bandicoot and Mario Kart, takes theater classes outside of school.
the mutant brotherhood: @daisy-lu​ @hervoidparadise​ @nedmjpeter​ @ultrunning​ @d-r-e-a-m-catchme​ @clementimee​ @that-fandom-sucks-tho​ @cjand10​ @rest-is-detail​ @baileymae​ @rosesvioletshardy​ @onceuponadetectivedemigod​ @hazelstyles94​ @bitchylittleredhead​ @bihemian-rhapsody​ @sweatyexpertgardenpanda​ @whereeverythingisbetter​ @dedxbed​ @xxencagedxx​ @glittrixvibe​ @a-girl-with-stress​ @sunflower-ben​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @mrsmazzello​ @cubedtriangle​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @misscharlottelee @nevilles-insinuations @jovialcreatorkidtoad @brianmaysclog @sambuckywarrior @hey-yo-bedussey @bubblyanis @lifesciencesbois @elektraofcrete @diosanaz @bbdoyouloveme @kirstansworld @okilover02 @cardboardbenmazzello @dreashappyworld @juliarose21 @simonedk @greycuby @emmasunshiine @dinotje @qtrogerina @spiketacus @nympha-door-a @local-troubled-writer @emphatic-af @wh0a-thisisheavy @lustgardn @banginashton 
--
When you’re twelve, and almost at the end of your first year of high school, you get into a fight with your parents as to whether or not you still need a babysitter. Much to your chagrin, however, they don’t see twelve as ‘practically sixteen, which is practically an adult’ and you sulk for the full three days leading up to the night they were going out. The night of, you’re fully intending on staying in your room, until there’s a knock at the door, and you hear a voice that is absolutely not your usual babysitter.
“Be good,” your parents call to you as they’re leaving, having noticed where you’d cracked the door to your room to see who it was. You make a face at them, but you’re surprised to see a kid from Sixth Form on crutches, who is absolutely not Madeline, standing in the hallway awkwardly. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him around school, maybe he’s on the soccer team? You’re not sure. 
“You’re not Maddy,” you tell him, opening the door a little wider, and he seems surprised for a moment to see you there. A kind, awkward smile appears on his face as he regards you with gentle amusement.
“Well spotted, I’m Ben, Maddy’s got the flu,” he explained easily, and offered his hand, “you’re Y/N, right?” And he’s trying so hard, but you’re still kind of mad at your parents for insisting on a babysitter in the first place.
“Who else would I be?” You asked flatly, which surprised a laugh from Ben, but you shook his hand anyways; you had to give him props for trying, “why are you using crutches?” You asked outright, since you’re pretty sure he wasn’t using crutches last time you saw him at school. You turned, heading for the living room, deciding to at least give him a chance.
“Sprained my ankle in class the other week,” he explained, hobbling along behind you.
“Sport or just P.E?” You asked, throwing yourself onto the sofa and picking up the TV remote. Ben was quiet for a long moment, and when you look at where he’s sitting gingerly on the edge of the sofa, he’s making a face like he doesn’t quite want to admit the truth.
“Theater sports,” he explained, which piqued your interest, which, of course, you try not to let show on your face, because if your babysitter knows you already think he’s cool, you might die of embarrassment. But also, you suddenly feel incredibly validated for taking those theater classes every Thursday afternoon.
“They’re -” he tries to explain, but you give another eye roll.
“I know what theater sports are,” you tell him, and his smile turns amused. 
“You do?” He asks, and you think he might be a little bit impressed, or perhaps it was just wishful thinking, either way, you nod firmly, “well I was in the middle of Space Jump - you know Space Jump, right? Where you start an activity and then someone else calls ‘Space Jump’ and you have to freeze and they have to make a new scene from your freeze, and then someone else comes in -” he explained, mostly to save you the embarrassment of admitting you didn’t know the game, “well I was up on one leg on a chair, climbing the rigging of a ship, you know how pirates do, and I froze, and -” he gestured how he’d fallen off the chair, with accompanying sound effects.
“Couldn’t you have just put your other foot down and balanced yourself?” You offered, and he shook his head, expression adamant.
“It’s all about the commitment to the bit; I was trying to entertain them, and the best way I can do that is to put myself out there one-hundred percent,” he told you sincerely, “you’ve always gotta follow through.”
“You sprained your ankle,” you pointed out, “isn’t that dangerous advice?” He deflates a little, looking down at his leg.
“Follow through but use your common sense, you’ve got common sense, don’t you?” He asked, giving a wry smile, two which you nodded diligently, “don’t get yourself hurt, then,” he suggests, before changing the subject quickly, “you hungry yet? Your parents said we could order pizza.” You’re easily excited by the thought of pizza, a rare treat your parents allowed you whenever you were babysat. 
It’s a pretty uneventful night, all things considered, you order pizza, and he lets you win at Crash Team Racing, and you’re falling asleep to a comedy movie until Ben gently suggests that you go to bed. You’re too tired to argue and try and weasel your way into staying up later, so you yawn loudly and wish him a good night before shuffling off to bed. The house is quiet, apart from where he’s watching a Top Gear rerun and waiting for your parents to get home.
You don’t think about it much beyond telling your parents ‘yeah, he’s pretty cool’ when they ask. You don’t think about him much beyond that, at least not for almost a full week, until you’re sitting in your geography class just before lunch, having managed to snag a seat by the window looking out onto the back field, and there’s a PE class doing laps on the field. All are running, except the teacher, and a boy with blonde hair, standing with all his weight on one foot, and a pair of crutches tossed to the side, looking like he’s arguing the teacher.
“I heard when you’re in sixth form you get to push in the front of the line at the canteen,” you hear your friend, Merissa, next to you muse, and when you turn, she’s followed your gaze outside to the field. After a moment, you turn again, and watch the blonde attempt to put weight on his obviously injured foot; it looks like he regrets it, and he sits on the grass, sulking. 
“That’s probably Ben,” Merissa tells you matter-of-factly, “he’s on the football team with my brother.” And something about the kind of unwarranted pride in her voice at being in the know makes your face scrunch up. Part of you wants to tell her that you know who Ben is, obviously, but another part of you doesn’t want to admit to still needing a babysitter; it feels childish. So you keep your mouth shut and turn to back to the board.
And the following week, in your weekly theater class, you’re about to take your turn at Bus Stop, wherein your goal is to make the other person on the ‘bus stop’ as uncomfortable as possible until they finally leave, which is when you’ll assume the roll of the innocent bystander, and someone else from the class will come up and try and make you uncomfortable. It’s a lesson on improvisation disguised as a game. 
The voice you’ve been practicing slightly pinches your vocal cords, and you’ve barely got a moment to assume a matching physicality, and you worry for a second that it’s not funny, that you’ll just look like an idiot -
Put yourself out there one hundred percent.
You steel yourself, making strange shapes with your hands as you twist yourself into as much of a creature as possible, within reason, using the strange voice you’d concocted, feeling a thrill as your entrance gets the biggest laugh of the class. Oh.
A few months later, in the Summer after your first year of high school, you’re finally thirteen, and are allowed to have the house to yourself for the day, but if you’re parents are anticipating staying out later than midnight, you need -
“Please,” you begged, “just don’t say babysitter, I’m not a baby.”
“Fine,” they acquiesce, “you need supervision, just if we’re out very late.” 
Despite your indignation at the situation, Maddy’s got a cello concert, and you’re hoping that that means -
Ben greets you like a friend, wearing a denim jacket with no crutches, and he might be the coolest person you know.
“You still on Crash Team Racing?” He asks with raised eyebrows as he heads into the living room, and you roll your eyes.
“That’s so old school,” you scoff, and he raises his hands in surrender, trying not to look as amused as he feels, watching as you pull out two Wii remotes, “Mario Kart’s much better.” And you hand him one. 
He’s not above letting you win, but it turns out, he doesn’t have to; you’re scarily good at the game, which you credit to playing pretty much nothing else for a solid month, and by the time the pizza arrives, the win ratio is about fifty-fifty, and you’ve bonded considerably over your mutual and unreasonable hatred for Waluigi, the only NPC who seems to consistently beat you both.
“Do you get to push in the front of the line at the canteen?” You asked, holding your pizza in one hand and letting it cool for a moment.
“Huh?” Ben’s burnt the roof of his mouth, and is reaching for his drink when you ask, “whaddya mean?”
“My friend Merissa says Sixth Form gets to push in the front of the line.” 
“I don’t think we’re technically allowed to,” he says after a moment of consideration, and you hear his nonverbal ‘but we still do’ anyways, “it’s not a rule rule, you know?”
“Are the A-levels hard?”
“Haven’t done ‘em yet,” he answers honestly, burping quietly after taking a drink, and you hum, and take a bite of pizza.
“I’m already scared of my GCSEs,” you admit after a moment of chewing, and Ben laughs gently.
“You’ve got nothing to be afraid of,” and he sounds like he means it, so you can’t help but believe it, soothed a little in your premature worrying. To be fair, Ben could say anything about school or life and you’d probably believe it; he was cool and older than you, but he treated you like a friend. 
You mention in passing that you’d gotten the lead for your class’s skit in the end of year showcase your theater company puts on, and mentions that it’s because you’d been committing to the bit in class, and the pride in his voice when he congratulates you is something you end up thinking about for days.
He ends up babysitting you twice more that Summer, not that you were complaining. It meant you got pizza, and to hang out with the coolest person you knew, a fact which you reiterated to your parents, much to their fond amusement, though you made them swear to never tell Ben that. He brought over Super Smash Bros and you guys would play for hours.
The only problem was that Ben was never allowed to know about the crush you had on him, because everyone in the world knew it was weird to have a crush on your babysitter, and you’re pretty sure he has a girlfriend and -
Doesn’t matter. You’re just started to discover the delightful world of crushes and relationships, and Merissa has a boyfriend on Tumblr, and you know that when you get back to school you can have a normal crush on a normal boy in your year, even if all the boys in your year look like thumbs. And Ben...
Is your babysitter. And a decent guy. And your friend, sort of. So you just hope he hasn’t noticed.
After Summer, he’s studying his A-levels, and Maddy’s got a day job so she can babysit at nights again, and it feels like everything’s gone back to normal, like you can breathe again. 
You’ve never really seen him at school; you don’t tend to hang around the back fields, but a few weeks into the first term, you’re having lunch with Merissa and Charlie, one of your other friends, in the library, when you spot him laden down with textbooks, making his way to one of the study rooms at the back. You’re not sure if he’ll even acknowledge you, even though your table is directly along the best route to the back rooms, so you just give him and smile and a nod in greeting.
“Hey, Y/N,” he grins quickly, doesn’t stop, but nods in return, and your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. Charlie sinks her nails into your arm the moment he’s gone into the study room, and Merissa quietly screeches your name.
“Chill out,” you’re trying to keep a low profile, but both other thirteen year old girls are demanding to know what just happened, “we’re friends.” You say with a shrug that’s far too casual.
“Friends?!” Merissa demands, and you can feel yourself growing more flustered.
“We hung out a few times during summer,” you open your notebook in front of you, trying to distract yourself.
“You hung out with Ben? Y/N he’s a football guy, he’s so old, he’s like eighteen!”
“We’re friends,” you insist, “don’t be, like, creepy about it,” you snorted, and Charlie let out a pterodactyl-like noise. They drop it at your insistence, and you’re just glad they don’t ask you to elaborate. 
You don’t see Ben much after that anymore, he’s too busy with his A-levels to babysit, and when you’re fourteen, your parents agree that you don’t need a babysitter anymore. You’re more than happy to let your Summer crush fall to the wayside, and let your memories of Ben, like all good Summer memories, fade into blurry obscurity. 
You wouldn’t need to worry about seeing him again anyways, right?
Oh how wrong you were.
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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years
Text
My #1 fan; Ben Hardy x child sister reader
*Author’s note*
Hey guys well here I am with yet another BoRhap boy story, this time it's of Ben Hardy (god it's been FOREVER since I wrote a story of Benny boi) but here it is. Now this is a Big Brother!Ben fic so unlike the last time there is NO ROMANCE, JUST FLUFFY PLATONIC GOODNESS THAT I CAN DISH UP!!!! Also in this fic I would like to point out that I do NOT OWN WORLD OF DANCE!! IT BELONGS TO J-LO AND NBC and all the people involved with the making of this amazing dance competition (if you haven't heard of it, go check it out the recent season is out NOW!!) Also watch the video links (from actual previous competitors on the show) to get a feel of what I'm seeing for the dances cause I am NOT  dancer so I do not know all the moves that you dancers do out there, but I hope you all still enjoy this fic :)
Taglist:
@plethora-of-things
@waddles03
@psychosupernatural
@ixchel-9275
@simonedk
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels
@queensdivas
@platawnic
@queendeakyy
@geek-and-proud
@kairosfreddie
@iambambi5
______________________________________________________________
God it feels like it’s been forever since we’ve seen each other.  From the time I got my first real American movie role in X-men Apocalypse, everything just seemed to fold right before me.  From my biggest success of Bohemian Rhapsody (where I became best friends with probably the three greatest guys in the world), followed by the Netflix movie 6 Underground with Ryan Reynolds (and yes he’s just as hilarious and humble as he presents himself).
My life has just exploded from there, I try to be home whenever I can but when I do, she’s just as busy as I am.  
Now that things have calmed down on my end and she’s preparing for an upcoming audition on a dance show, I can finally take the time to go see her (especially now since I’m in LA where she’s to audition). God I haven’t seen her in years, I wonder how she’s been?
“BENJAMIN!!!” Joe’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I turned to him.
“Hmm what?”
“Geez mate you were really out of it back there. We’ve been trying to get your attention for like 10 minutes.” Gwil said as he sipped his beer.
“Oh sorry guys, I was just—thinking.”
“And just who was it that had your attention so badly that you tuned out from the rest of the world?” teased Rami.
“Benjamin Hardy are you cheating on me!? Oh my god you’re cheating! Who is it! What’s their name!?” Joe accused me.  I rolled my eyes as I shoved him.
“Is it a girl?” Rami asked.
“Oh great. Now I gotta get breast implants just to get you to notice me.” Joked Joe.  We all looked at him strangely and I said.
“Not in that way, but yes I am thinking about a girl. My sister actually.”
“Your sister? You—never mentioned a sister before.” Gwil said.
“I kinda like to keep her separate from my name.”
“What you guys don’t get along?” asked Joe.
“No, no we get along amazingly. We’re each other’s #1 fans. But ever since Bohemian Rhapsody everyone now knows my name. I don’t want people comparing the two of us and making her feel like I’m outshining her. That’s one of the other reasons why I changed my last name from Jones to Hardy.”
“Is she an actress too?” Rami asked with a head tilt.
“No, no. She’s a dancer actually.”
“A dancer? Fancy.” Joe said in a posh accent.
“What kind of dancing does she do?” Gwil said.
“Mostly contemporary. But she also does ballet and a bit of Hip-hop. This one competition she was on, she actually combined ballet and hip-hop together. Got 1st place for it, and was the youngest winner to ever win the Glasgow dance competition.” They all whistled.
“She must be good then, how old is she?”
“She was 7 years old.” They all gaped at me.
“You’re joking right?” Joe said with wide eyes and a gaped mouth.
“No, not at all. In fact in her ballet school where she trains, she’s actually the youngest student to have been chosen to get a full run scholarship to the London Academy for Dance. Once she’s 12 years old, they’ll give her the full ride.”
“Wait, wait, wait. How old is she now?” Gwil asked.
“She’s nine.”
“So they’re gonna hold onto her scholarship for another three years?” Rami said.  I nodded.
“Damn she must be good for them to do that.” Joe said with a sigh.
“She is. Fell in love with dancing at 2 years old and did her first pirouette within the first three months of joining her ballet school.”
“Geez, and my sister couldn’t do one till she was about 9.”
“Guess my sister’s got yours beat.” I teased to Joe.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah don’t rub it in.”
“So Ben, when was the last time you saw her?”
“Five years.” I said as I sipped my beer solemnly.
“Wait what? You haven’t seen your sister in five years!?” Joe gawked.
“I told you guys, ever since X-men it’s been one project after another. And even when I did have a break, she was out of state doing a competition either with her school or as a soloist. But—hopefully that’ll change in the next few weeks. She’s actually here in LA.”
“She is?” Rami said.  I nodded.
“Yeah. She’s auditioning for some sort of dance show they film here.”
“So you think you can dance is doing a junior competition now?” asked Joe.
“No not that one. It’s a recent one. They’ve only done like 3 or 4 seasons of it. I think it’s called Dancing world…..no World of Dance. That’s it.”
“Oh that show is awesome! I’ve auditioned for that show.” Joe bragged.
“No you haven’t.” Rami exclaimed at Joe’s lie.
“I’m serious I auditioned during their first 2 seasons. Couldn’t commit cause of obvious reasons.”
“I’m calling BS on that.” Gwil said as he leaned back.
“Uhh excuse me; who got the part of the Disco Deacy? Me. Who perfected the BAB dance? Me. I’m perfectly qualified to be a dancer. In fact why don’t we go see your little sis and she can be the judge!”
“What?”
“You heard me, right now! Let’s go see her!” Joe said as he downed his drink and stood up.
“Hang on guys……”
“Well besides of Joe’s reason, I think it’d be fair for us to meet your little sis. I mean we’ve practically seen each other’s siblings. You all met my twin Sami and my sis Jasmine.”
“I agree with Rami, and you all met my older brother at my engagement party.”
“And of course you all met John and Mary at the BoRhap premiere.” At this rate I knew I wasn’t going to win this argument.
“Fine. I—guess I’ll call up my mum and ask her where she’s rehearsing at.” I just hope (y/n) doesn’t mind having my friends come and see her rehearse.
Cause when she’s in rehearsal mode, she can be quite the little jumpy bug.
*My POV*
Two days.  I had two days till the Qualifier rounds for World of Dance.  I had my routine down to the T and my mum says it’s perfect (but she has to say that she’s my mum), however I’m still doubting myself on some of the moves, or if I’m not showing enough emotion (cause J-Lo loves herself some dancers who can convey emotion).
I was sitting in the rehearsal room having myself a break after rehearsing my dance for the past half hour.  I had this studio slotted for a 45min. rehearsal so I had about 15 minutes left to practice.
“I swear each time you dance your routine, you get more graceful every time.” Mum said as she came in with some lunch.
“Thanks mum, but is it good enough for the judges?”
“I know it is.” I chose not to respond to her. Like I said she has to say these things, but I know there are some flaws to my dance.  I didn’t stick the landing hard enough, I tripped up on the landing from the 540, my leg wasn’t straight enough with I lifted it outward, so many flaws. “Oh I forgot, there’s a little surprise waiting for you downstairs.”
“Mum I—I don’t know. I mean I haven’t even found out if I’ll make it into the next round.”
“Trust me love, you’ll like this surprise.” She raced over to the door and opened it and soon coming in my brother and his three friends from his film Bohemian Rhapsody.
“Benny!” I cheered as I hopped off my seat and raced right over to him.  A huge smile spread across his face as he extended his arms out and caught me as he picked me up and spun me around.
“Hey kiddo oh it’s been forever! Oh you’ve gotten so big since I last saw you.”
“I missed you Benny.”
“I missed you too kiddo. God you have no idea how much I missed you.” he said as he repeatedly kissed the top of my head.
“Your brother happened to be in LA so we planned a little surprise visit for you.” mum said as she closed the door.
“And I hope you don’t mind that I brought a few friends over.” Ben said as he gestured towards the three actors who starred with him on Bohemian Rhapsody.
“I don’t mind. I’ve heard so much about these guys that I figured it’s about time I met them in person.” He set me down and I walked up to the actor who played the legendary Freddie Mercury. “Rami Malek, right?”
“That is correct, and you must be his famous little dancing sister.”
“Well I wouldn’t call myself famous yet, but I hope to be one day.” We shook hands with each other.  I then moved onto the next one, the tallest out of all of them who even looked like Brian May even without the wig. “Now forgive me if I pronounce your name wrong, my Welsh isn’t that great. Is it—Gwilym.” I pronounced the “I” like I was saying “ice cream”.
“Close, it’s pronounced Gwilym. Think of the “wi” like will.”
“Right, sorry.”
“No worries—(Y/n) right?”
“Yeah.” We both shook hands with each other and I told him, “Can I just say, I thought you were phenomenal as Brian May.”
“Well thank you love, I take it you’re a Queen fan as well?”
“Yeah. You can thank Benny for that. He introduced me to the band when I was a little girl. I even did a dance routine to White Queen when I was around 4-5 years old.”
“Wow, if you remember it, we’d sure like to see it.” Rami said.
“I think I might remember it. Again it was a while ago so I might improvise something if I don’t remember the whole routine.”
“No problem there.” Rami said with a warm smile. I then moved on to the last actor who played (my personal favorite member of Queen, John Deacon).
“So you’re the famous Joe Mazzello that my brother won’t shut up about.”
“Sure am kid. And you’re the world time dance champion and scholarship holder for the best London dance academy ehh?”
“You could say that.”
“Well little missy I happen to be a dance champion too, and I challenge you to a dance off!” Already I could see Ben, Gwilym and Rami either shaking their heads or rolling their eyes as Joe’s proclamation.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with my brother would it?”
“And if it is?” questioned Joe in a challenging manner.
“No reason.” I shrugged. “Just hope you’re prepared to lose.” The guys all oooh in a challenging manner and that’s when Joe nodded along.
“Okay, okay little one. But I’m giving it all I got so you better watch out.” I gestured that the dancefloor was all his.  Gwil went over to the stereo and went through my Spotify app till he found the song that Joe wanted to dance to.
He chose Wham’s ‘Wake me up before you go-go’. I’ll admit he has some pretty good moves—for an amateur.  After doing a minute and a half of his little on the spot dance moves, he posed as he panted heavily.
“It was okay.” I shrugged.
“Okay?”
“Yeah I mean—it was…..cute. It was cute. For like an Instagram or TikTok video.”
“Okay then little miss Prima donna. Show me your little ballet moves.” Challenged Joe.  Oh he don’t know me very well, do he? I first took off my ballet shoes and put on my sneakers.
I told Gwilym which song to play and he nodded to me that he would wait till I was ready before he played the song.  I now stood in the middle of the room and took a deep breath before turning to Gwilym.  He nodded and pressed his finger on my phone to play the song and soon YG’s “One time coming” began playing.
Play video
With this song I unleashed my Hip-hop background. Poppin and locking my body when needed, going in time with the beat, even doing things with my limbs to which no one had ever seen (like this one move where I had my right arm out and only by moving my left index finger, either the upper or lower portion of my arm would move up).
The guys and my mum were amazed and just in awe at my dancing.  And when I did a little patterned tip-toe strut with my arms tucked in like duck wings, did I hear the guys exclaim and just flip out.  When my minute and a half dance break was over, I flipped my hair towards Joe telling him that he got owned.
In pure defeat, Joe collapsed to the ground and lay there dead while my brother came up and hoisted me onto his shoulder.
“The winner and undefeated champion of the dance. (Y/n) Jones!” I bowed and thanked the guys and my mum as they cheered. Benny set me back down on the ground just as Joe finally came up and revived himself.  I stood before him and he said.
“You surprise me kiddo. I accept defeat. Benjamin is yours.”
“Well he is my brother. But—we can share him.” At hearing that, Joe took me in his arms and spun me around thanking me repeatedly.
“Do you think whenever we get some free time, could you show me some stuff. I really liked that little tip-toe strut.”
“I learned it from a friend of mine whose into Hip-hop back at my school. In fact he competed on the first season of World of Dance he and his group. They didn’t win but they got to the Semi-finals.”
“That’s awesome. You really are the dance master. And I can’t wait to see what you bring to the World of Dance stage.”
“In fact (Y/n), can we see your routine?” asked Ben.
“Yeah I was just about to ask that. Ben’s told us that while you can combine certain genres of dance, your main focus was on contemporary. I’ve always been intrigued anytime someone says they’re a contemporary dancer.” Gwilym said.  I turned to my mum and asked her how long did I have for rehearsal.
When she told me five minutes, I knew I could show them my audition routine that I had planned.  But after that we had to leave cause the next group to come in had to set up their things and warmup.  
The guys all took a seat along the mirrored wall while my mum handled the music.
Once my song began playing, I did my entire routine before the guys.  Showing Ben’s friends that while I can unleash the beast in Hip-hop, I can be as graceful and elegant as a swan.
After the routine was done, I got a standing ovation from all four of the guys as they applauded and whistled.  I gathered up my stuff and as I did, the guys all swarmed around me telling me what an amazing job I did, and that for some of the *cough*Joe*cough* I had them crying by the end of my routine.
We then left the dance studio and Ben’s friends allowed us to have our own personal family time (since Ben and I hadn’t seen each other in literally five years).  We said our goodbyes and soon our mum took us out to eat as sorta a family reunion/congratulations on all of our combined successes.
It was time.  The World of Dance qualifier rounds.  Today was my filming date and I knew in several weeks they would soon air it on TV worldwide.  Now I have performed in front of crowd before, but this—this was something else.
And not to even make me twice as nervous, I have seen what people comment on the show or the specific dancers.  Most of them are nice comments but then again it’s the Internet so there’s bound to be haters out there.
This one girl from last season just a few years older than me got so much hate in fact, that she ended up shutting down her Twitter page and I’m told she gave up on dancing all together.  I don’t know what I’m gonna do if that ends up being me.
I was running my routine through my head and stretching myself out.  With me to support me was my mum, Ben and Ben’s friends of Bohemian Rhapsody, Rami, Gwil and Joe.  With each dancing group or person that went up, I got more and more nervous.  Soon a producer came up to me and said.
“(Y/n), you’ll be on up after The Jumperz.”
“Okay, thank you.” I told him.  He nodded and walked away from me, at that moment I felt like I wanted to puke.
“Hey kiddo, how’s it going?” I looked up to see Ben standing over me.
“Good, very good.” He sat down beside me, his brow furrowed with concern.  Crap he knows, he always knows.
“You sure?” at this point I knew I couldn’t hide it anymore.  I tucked my legs into my chest and curled myself into a ball.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore Ben.”
“What do you mean?” he questioned.
“Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. Can we go home? Yeah, yeah let’s go home.” I said as I stood up.
“Now hold on, hold on love.” He took my hand into his stopping me from even walking away. “Let’s just sit down and talk about it real quick.” He stood up and we went outside of the room and stood along the hallway.
I leaned up against the wall with my arms crossed over my chest protectively and my leg bouncing with anxiety.
“Talk to me sis, what’s going on?”
“I just……I’m scared Ben. I don’t know why I am, I’ve performed in front of an audience before, I don’t know why I’m this nervous. It’s stupid I know.”
“Hey, hey, hey. No it’s not.” He said to me gently as he cupped my face, trying his best to not ruin my makeup. “You’re human, you have every right to be nervous. I’ll bet not a single one of these dancers you’re competing against isn’t feeling what you’re feeling now. And some of these guys might’ve been with well-known performers and are still feeling the nerves.”
“Is it always this nerve wracking for you every time you film something?” he nodded.
“Of course it is. I’m always worried about people’s reactions to me on screen. Even with all the positive feedback I get, I always keep my eye focused on that one negative outlook, no matter how many people say I’m good in a role.”
“I just don’t want the haters to pull me away from my dream like they did to that one dancer that came on the show last season.”
“Come here, have a seat in my lap.” He sat down on the floor and guided me till I was now sitting on his lap, holding me like a teddy bear. “There will always be haters and trolls out there in the world. That’s just what they get off of, is by bringing other people down, especially kids who go on shows like this. It’s wrong and vile but I won’t say you won’t encounter some hate. But the one thing you must keep in mind; is to never, ever let them dictate on who you are as a person.”
“Do you think I can do that?”
“Absolutely. You’re incredibly talented, you’re smart, kind, the most talented person I’ve ever met. I mean yeah I can dance but nowhere near to the level that you can. Hell you even beat out Joe in that little dance competition when you first met him a couple days ago.”
“I did do that, didn’t I?” he chuckled.
“You schooled him.”
“Ben no one says that anymore.”
“Whatever I’m a 90’s kid that was the lingo back then.”
“Back in the ancient times.” He scoffed.
“Alright miss smart-aleck I guess since you’re feeling well enough to sass me off you don’t need me anymore.” He plopped me off his lap and went to stand up but I gripped his shirt and begged.
“No Benny please!” all I could hear was his soft laughter.  I hit his arm and pouted. “You are so mean!”
“Aww sissy, you know I can’t help but be a little cheeky with you.” he teased as he playfully nudged my shoulder with his arm. I smiled and nodded.
“Yeah I know cause that’s your job.”
“It is my job. Well one of the many qualifications of being your Big Brother. The most important one though, is to be there for you when you need it.” He stroked the top of my head and I hugged him.
“Thanks Ben. I’m glad that you could be here.”
“Me too. And hey, accepted or not. I’m proud of all that you’ve done in your dancing career.” He whispered in my ear as he gave me a snug embrace.  
After our little bro-sis cuddle, we separated from each other and he asked me, “Do you still feel nervous?”
“A little but not as much.”
“Okay so there are two options we can do here; we can shake out the nerves, or my favorite—I can tickle them out of you.”
“No Ben you’ll ruin my costume!” I whined out as he chuckled.
“Okay, so we’ll shake them out then.” We both stood up and did our nerve shakeout.
Which was basically what he learned in theatre which was just shaking out your hands and feet counting backwards from 10, but each time we’d count, we’d go a bit faster.  Once we got one, Ben picked me up and spun me around before setting me down.
“Better?”
“Better.”
“Good, oh wait one last thing before you go out, gotta shake out those negative thoughts in that brain of yours.” He cupped my face in his hands and playfully shook my head around as he growled out in an angry tone, “Get out of my sister’s head you dirty rotter’s!”
“Ben!” I laughed.  He stopped as he grinned down at me.
“Had to make sure. You look beautiful, and I know you’re gonna wow everyone out there, especially the judges.”
“Thanks Benny. I love you.”
“Love you too kiddo.” He gave my nose a peck before escorting me back into the dance room.  A producer was calling out my name, I looked up at Ben and he nodded to me before I went racing off towards the producer to tell him I was here.
When he saw me, he guided me towards the corridor where I would walk down, go up the stairs and racing across towards the stage. I could hear the chanting claps of the audience and their cheers and soon I heard the announcer say through the speaker.
“Give it up, for (Y/n) Jones.” I raced across the corridor, took the steps two at a time before racing across the catwalk towards the stage.  As soon as I came on stage, everyone cheered and soon I was standing before Ne-Yo, Derek Hough, and Jennifer Lopez.  They greeted me with waves or nods and I waved to them.
“Hello sweetie.” Jennifer greeted me.
“Hi.” I waved back to her.
“Why don’t you tell us your name?”
“My name is (Y/n) Jones and I’m from London, England.”
“Oh a British Dancer. Finally someone from the UK.” Derek proclaimed.
“So how old are you?” Ne-Yo asked me.
“I just turned nine last month.” At that the crowd cheered for me and that’s when Ne-Yo said.
“Well happy belated birthday.”
“Thank you Ne-Yo.” He winked at me and said to me.
“Let’s see what you got (Y/n).” I nodded and handed my microphone to one of the assistants before racing off towards the back of the stage as the lights went down.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in before exhaling slowly.  This was it, make it or break it.
*Ben’s POV*
From backstage, my mum, the guys and I along with the other dancers could watch and see what was going on stage.  I pressed my hands together in a prayer motion as I had them against my lips, c’mon little sis I know you can do it.
*Play video*
Her song routine, Ashes by Celine Dion soon came on through the speakers and she began her routine.  The lights softly lit up in a sunrise color of yellow, orange, and purple.  She truly shined as her dance went on, going slow when she needed before finally sticking the landing or going with the beat of the song.
That entire stage was hers to command and she used the entirety of that stage for her routine.  I could hear the judges voices sound impressed with my sister’s routine, especially once the chorus struck and the hard drumbeats of the song kicked in.
The crowd was just in awe and applauded my sister, dazzled by her grace yet strength she was giving them in her performance.  Doing her 540’s, leg lifts, front flips, she was like the Freddie Mercury of dancing on that stage as she showed her true colors on that stage, especially as it lit up with her as the song got more powerful.
By the end of it when she stood up and just gave that pleading face of help as she reached out towards J-Lo, the lights went dark and the entire audience went nuts.  
“That was even amazing with the lights.” Said Joe.
“Agreed, she really lit that stage up.” Rami agreed.
“That’s our girl.” Mum said as I wrapped my arm around her.
“Alright, alright, alright, alright (Y/n). Now remind me how old you are?” Derek said.
“I just turned nine.” At that point Derek stood up from his chair flipping his pen which made everyone laugh. “Girl you look like you’ve been doing this for 20 years.” Everyone laughed.
“How old were you when you got into dancing?” asked J-Lo.
“I was 2.” (y/n) responded.
“Well it shows that you definitely have a passion for this. And you literally have been doing this your whole life. Just seeing you being able to do moves that—I couldn’t even do at your age till I was much older, that to me…..shows you have true love for dancing. And you already gave me goosies little missy and we just met you.”
“Uh-oh Jennifer with her goosies.” Ne-Yo said.
“She gave them to me, the goosies do not lie!”
“No they do not.” Derek said before he continued, “But just like Jennifer said. I mean my sister and I we did some contemporary a bit as kids but nowhere could we master it down just like you’ve done (Y/n). And that final move where you just landed right on your knees. I literally jumped from my seat.”
“Yeah it was like you had no bones little miss.” Ne-Yo said as my sister smiled and laughed. “Besides from what both Derek and Jennifer has said. Your timing is what really stuck out to me. Like it was like you were a part of the song itself. Like first you’d be like all smooth and fluid when the beat was gentle. But when the drumbeat kicked in hard with boom- boom boom-boom. That right there is what really stuck out to me.”
“I completely agree.” Derek said.
“Alright we’re gonna lock in our scores and we’ll see if you make it to the duels (Y/n).” J-Lo said with a smile. (Y/n) nodded and that’s when the lights dimmed down on her and we watched as the three judges locked in their scores, while making their silent commentaries to each other.
“Okay (Y/n), you need an 88 or above to qualify for the duels, let’s see what you scored.” The host said as he came out and stood beside my sister.  The lights shown down (like those game show lights whenever something gets suspenseful).
First up was Derek’s score; he gave her an 90.
At that my sister made a face of shock as her smile widened and she covered her mouth in shock.  The crowd cheered and up next was Ne-Yo’s score.
He gave her an 89.  Finally J-Lo’s score was a 92.  When the scores rounded up together was 90.3.  Her score shined up on the ceiling scoreboard and (Y/n) couldn’t believe it, poor sissy was even crying.
“Congratulations (Y/n) you made it to the Duels. How’s it feel?” the host asked as he held his microphone to her.
“It feel just—absolutely amazing. All three of you have been an inspiration to be in wanting to become a dancer and this just means so much to me. Thank you for letting me get this opportunity.”
“We can’t wait to see what you bring us, cause already little Miss, you’ve got the competitive edge. It better only get better from here on out.” Ne-Yo told her.  She nodded and thanked the judges one last time before running off the stage.
As she came running towards us, I had to be the first one she saw.  I cheered for her as I opened my arms out for her and she raced towards me before leaping right into my arms.  I spun her around as the two of us laughing joyously.
“You did it kiddo! I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks to you Ben. I kept thinking about what you said, I dedicated my performance to you.” I felt myself tear up as I buried my face into her ponytailed hair.
“I would’ve been proud of you either way.” At this point the rest of the guys as well as our mum came up and congratulated her.
That night we celebrated her victory on making it to the next round of World of Dance.  Drinks for me and the guys, we danced, sung some karaoke, and just partied all night long.
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