double lacing

love Mythology.
You know what I love most about Mythology?

Everyone just assumes Hades is a badass.
Hades isn’t a badass.
Hades named his three-headed-guard-of-the-underworld-dog that looks like it can chew your head leg and arm off instantaneously - spot. He called his dog spot! (Not joking look it up,“Cerberus” is a Latinised version of the Greek Kerberos, from a Proto-Indo-European word *ḱerberos, meaning “spotted”. Literally I laughed myself senseless.)
Hades whispers to his flowers to make them grow.
Hades grows fruit, there is no sun in the underworld.
Let’s be honest the guy probably double knots his laces and cries when there are no more ice cream tubs left in the freezer after a tough day of dealing with Zeus and Poseidon.

Persephone however, that so called frail little thing that he “kidnapped” ? Yeah, about that. She’s another case all together. When Hermes went to the Underworld he expected to find a scared little girl. Instead he found a thriving Queen.
No like literally she would fight anyone who said anything bad or that hurt Hade’s feelings. She’d probably pet his head and constantly reassured him he was a fantastic King of the Underworld, and that he was totally scary and all that shit - while she glared at anyone who dared think differently, telling them to meet her in the pit.
That girl didn’t want to be another Maiden in the field. She knew exactly what she was doing when she ate those seeds.
She wanted a Kingdom, and that’s what she got.

If that isn’t life goals , then I don’t know what is.

apprenticedmagician  asked:

“Why are you/we whispering?” - Here's a prompt! I feel it's one you can use to sneak in two pairings if you wanted; one pair hiding and (accidentally?) spying on the other having a moment *snicker* I was thinking Ransom/Holster either way but I know you like Nursey/Dex as well! Go wild!

Justin’s coming down the stairs in search of a snack for the next leg of his o-chem study sesh, minding his own business and hoping there’s pie left over, when someone grabs his wrist and pulls him off his path to the kitchen.  

He’s not surprised to see it’s Holster pressing him against the wall, hand wrapped around Justin’s wrist.

“Can I help you?” Justin says flatly.

“Shhh!” Holster half spits his reply as he ducks down to peer around the corner and into the kitchen.

Justin hopes his eyebrows manage to convey how unimpressed he is when Holster straightens back up. He doesn’t let Justin move from the wall so apparently the message is not received.

“Dex and Nursey are in there,” Holster whispers, jerking his chin towards the kitchen.

“Why are you whispering?” Justin asks and gets Holster’s hand over his mouth for his troubles.

Justin lets out a deep sigh through his nose; there’s probably no more pie if the Frogs are working there. He licks Holster’s hand and when he can move his upper body without the 200-odd pounds of d-man crushing it, he leans to look through the doorway to see for himself, twisting his spine awkwardly because Holster still has his hips pinned to the wall.

Nursey and Dex are sitting side by side, their books spread out over the kitchen table. There doesn’t seem to be any pie left on the counter, but he’s looking into the kitchen from a weird angle so he can’t say for certain. It’d be a normal every day scene in the Haus except for the distinct lack of fighting going on in the kitchen.

Holster’s smile is kinda creepy when Justin straightens up.

“There’s no pie, is there?” he asks in his regular speaking voice. Holster punches him in the chest, which fair, Justin’s purposefully missing the point in protest of the snack he’s not getting.

“They’re getting along!” Holster says, voice as quiet as Justin’s ever heard it. It’s weird. Holster looks into the kitchen again. “Rans, the Frogs are growing up and D-bonding!” He whisper-shouts that last bit, spitting slightly.

“Say it, don’t spray it bro.” Justin wipes his face on Holster’s t-shirt.

“I’m just so proud,” Holster continues, ignoring Justin to still whisper-shout in his face. “It feels like just yesterday they were arguing about double knotting their laces.”

Justin rolls his eyes. “They were arguing about that yesterday.”

“Yeah, but look at them now, all grown up and sharing the table.” Holster sighs dramatically. “D-men bonding is so special. Do you remember our Frog bonding?”

Justin shakes his head, thinking back to their first year on the team where he and Holster somehow managed to live out of each other’s pockets without actually living together. Their off-ice bonding included a lot of bowling and arguing about T.V. shows, but whatever it worked and made their on-ice bond that much stronger.

He succeeds in shoving Holster off him so get can go find the cookie dough he saw Bitty mixing earlier if there’s no pie, but freezes in the doorway before he makes it further than a step into the kitchen.

“We didn’t bond like that in our frog year Holtzy,” he says quietly, staring at the train wreck that is Dex and Nursey full on making out over their homework. They’re really going at it, not even stopping for breath when Holster forgets he’s using his inside-voice and asks, “What?”  

He settles his chin on Justin’s shoulders to look past him into the kitchen. “Oh fuck, nope.” Holster laughs, his breath tickling Justin’s ear. “That was junior year bonding.” He grabs Justin’s hand again.

“You owe me a study snack,” Justin sighs, but lets himself be pulled out of the kitchen and up to the attic. He doesn’t want to deal with the fall out of either Frog noticing that their chosen spot for a moment isn’t so private anymore. Idiots.

“You wanna go to Annie’s?” Holster asks in a normal voice.

“Yeah, but text the Haus that there’s very important D-man bonding going on so they don’t get caught,” Justin says, nudging Holster out of the way so he can pack his backpack. He’s going to be productive even if the rest of the d-line isn’t.

“Are we gonna bond?” Holster wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. He laughs when Justin swings his backpack onto his back, narrowly avoiding slamming it into Holster’s gut.

“Never again if you don’t let me finish my notes.” Justin is only half serious with the threat. He turns to make Holster pack his own backpack so he’s not a complete distraction at the coffee shop.

“I’ll be good.” Holster grins, hooking his hands on the bottom of Justin’s backpack straps. He rubs his thumbs over the exposed skin where the the backpack has rucked up Justin’s shirt.

“You’re a such a liar,” Justin says. He pushes Holster away. “I’ll leave without you!”

Holster throws random books into his backpack as he replies, “You can’t D-bond without me Rans.”

Justin watches him pack a textbook that he’s pretty sure he hasn’t looked at since they first moved into the attic, and is really sure that he doesn’t want to d-bond with anyone else.

Holster’s answering kiss when Justin tells him so is worth the chirping he hears the entire way to Annie’s.

John’s favorite shoes are the velcro kind; it’s not that he can’t tie them, but they’re less likely to come undone this way. At some point his feet are too big to attain any, and he keeps his laces double-knotted at all times, preferring to cram his foot into his shoe painfully over just untying/retying them.

Jade’s favorite shoes are boots; they have good traction, they’re tall enough that nothing gets inside, waterproof, and they look really cool. She likes the ones that lace really high, and when she wears trousers she likes them tucked into her boots. When in a skirt, she goes with combat boots so they don’t rub against her shins. 

Rose’s favorite shoes are heels, ideally, but she doesn’t like to wear them initially because they hurt her feet. She sticks to vans at first, but eventually decides to tough it out and go with high heels. She gets used to them, and owns different styles for different outfits; she doesn’t wear them for the height, as there aren’t any shoes that will make her look tall next to Kanaya. 

Dave’s favorite shoes are men’s dress shoes. He wears a lot of Converse as a kid, which he still does like later on, but he prefers the classier looking shoe over the trainers. He calls it ironic at first, dropping the modifier eventually and just pointing out that they look sweet. He has them in a few different styles, some that Rose says she likes a lot, and others which look far too “Texan” in her opinion. 

Just A Bunch Of Movies That People Should See One Day

Alright so I went way overboard but when I set out to make a list of films people should check out I’m gonna take it a little to seriously.  That being said here’s a shit ton of films that I think everyone should check out if they can. I’m definitely missing a lot but every single one of these is in order by year of release. So here it goes.

Tagging: @daveeddiggsit @skyeethefallenangel @myminddoesmindactually @aryn-the-wolfheart @princessmeegz @ohbelieveyoume @seekret-fanfic @wosushi @thatgirlwhosalwayssinging @miamorbarba

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Love is...Unconditional

Banner by the brilliant, amazing and perfectly talented @akai-echo

Parts 1 and 2 are available on AO3/ffnet

Epilogue will post on Valentine’s Day. 

A million thanks to my lovely friend, @eala-musings for betaing this, the incomparable @akai-echo for the prereading, making the gorgeous set of banners and for talking me through some plot points. And finally, to the wonderful @thegirlfromoverthepond , my other partner in crime with @loveinpanem for inspiring this fic. Thank you all!

Part 3 - Release

“I’m fine, I promise,” I said, holding the cellphone in the crook between my neck and shoulder as I spoke to Prim and packed at the same time.

“I know, I know, but I just worry. I’ve never gone a month without seeing you. When are you coming home?”

“Soon, Little Duck,” I said, using my most soothing voice. Peeta quietly took my bag from my hands and checked the room one last time before we shut the door behind us.

“Okay. I just need to know you’re okay and I’ll quit worrying.” Her voice was plaintive, sounding like it did when we were children.

I sighed and watched Peeta pull on his shoes and tie them, knots double-laced, as always. “This trip has been one of the most important ones I’ve ever taken.” He looked up at me, one eyebrow raised as if in skepticism. I held his gaze defiantly as I continued. “I wish it would never end.”

His face softened, becoming thoughtful, then sad, before he let his eyes drop down to his shoes where his fingers still rested on the laces. I wished my sister goodnight and retreated to the restroom to brush my hair and keep myself from falling all over Peeta once again.

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I almost can’t believe it, but I’m actually posting two fics within the space of a few days!! This week has been crazy productive. 

So this fic is not a Christmas fic, but it is kinda Christmas-y, because I wrote this while listening to copious amounts of Christmas music. It has a very different feel from the last fic I posted, but I hope you guys like it~ 

Sterek, ~6k words, rated T

It happens on a Monday. Derek stayed up stupidly late the night before, reading a weird German serial killer novel Erica lent him, and overslept. He’s running late, out of breath and a little sweaty from jogging all the way from the subway, and when he yells, “Hold the elevator!” an arm obligingly snakes out between the doors and he slips inside.

The guy who held the door for him doesn’t even look up. He’s slouching back against the wall, scrolling disinterestedly through his phone, his other hand curled around a bouquet of flowers wrapped in crinkly paper. He’s got messy brown hair and a mole right by his mouth, four more in a cluster along his jaw, and, under the scent of cold air and wet pavement that’s clinging to his jacket, he smells—good. Really good. Warm and a little gingery.

The elevator doors slide shut. Derek’s so focused on trying to look at him without letting the guy know he’s looking that it takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize the guy just said something. To Derek.

Derek blinks. “What?”

The guy smirks. “Running a little low on caffeine? I asked what floor you want.” He nods at the elevator buttons, and Derek flushes. Right.


The guy leans forward to press the button, and Derek leans in a little after him, trying to subtly smell him again.

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Hockey Camp - Auston Matthews

Auston Matthews x Reader

Word Count: 2234

Warnings: Mild profanity

Summary: You are attending an elite hockey training camp with your junior team, along with several other of the best female/male junior teams from the country. You know this is your big shot to be scouted for the CWHL, but a certain boy from Arizona keeps catching your eye. Having been focused on hockey your entire life, you struggle to balance your growing feelings for this boy and achieving the goal you’ve dreamed of since being a little girl.


It’s hot out. Like, stinking hot, sweat droplets rolling down your spine, hair plastered to the back of your neck kind of hot. But instead of calling it quits, you lift yourself up from the ground, crouching low and placing your hands on the grass before you take off across the field. When you reach the imaginary finish line, your breath is shallow, your lungs gasping for air in the thickness of the midday summer heat. You wipe the sweat out of your eyes and sprint all the way back. And then you do it again, and again, and again.

When you finish, the sun has sunken in the sky, red and low above the horizon. It is when you turn around, after taking long, messy gulps of water from the garden hose, that you notice him standing there. Your cheeks grow hot as he catches your eye. Immediately you look down, staring at wetness of your clothes, soaked in water and sweat. How embarrassing. You turn and walk away swiftly, down the hill and towards the cabins.

You see him again, not much later, at dinner in the mess hall. A bunch of your teammates are crowded around you, along with several members from other hockey teams attending the camp. Your shyness keeps you from engaging readily with the new girls and you instead force yourself to continuously eat or drink to minimize conversation. You’re eating tacos for dinner, out of all things, and are desperately trying to bite into the shell as politely as possible without making a giant mess (as one does). After a semi-successful bite, you place the taco down and take a look around the hall at everyone else. As you chew slowly, your gaze drifting around the room, you feel the weight of someone staring at you.

It’s him.

He’s looking directly at you, his lips curled upwards in a crooked smile. Before you can wonder what he’s humoured by, he makes a wiping motion on his cheek.

Self-consciously you reach up to your cheek, mimicking him, and feel the something by the corner of your mouth. You bring your finger back in front of you. Sour cream. Great.

You feel your whole body grow hot with embarrassment, and hastily dab the cream away with a napkin. You look down at your lap, but you can still feel his eyes on you. You fight the urge to look back up.

“Hey, Y/N, you’ve been awfully quiet today,” one of your teammates, Alexis, comments. “Something up?”

You pretend to be confused. “Oh, no - sorry, I think I was just zoned out for a bit.”

Alexis turns to the new girls. “Y/N  here is the fastest both on and off the ice - sometimes we think she should’ve been the next Usain Bolt instead of a hockey player. She’s probably sad ‘cause she only ran forty laps today, not fifty.”

You roll your eyes as Alexis grins.

One of the girls on the other team, a pretty girl with dark skin and warm brown eyes nods and laughs. “Don’t worry. I’m the exact same way - running is kinda my entire life, other than hockey. Maybe we could run together sometime?”

“Um, sure. That would be nice.” You smile awkwardly.

As the conversation quickly turns to a different topic, your linemate and closest friend, Steph, reaches across the table and touches your arm. “You okay?” she mouths.

You nod. She raises an eyebrow, not convinced.

“Later,” you mouth back.

You force yourself to engage in the conversation, trying to ignore the weight of the boy’s eyes. When dinner comes to a close, you muster up all the courage you have and glance over to your right. The table is empty.

Morning rolls around sooner than expected, and you can’t bring yourself to get out of bed until Steph threatens to strangle you with a pillow unless you turn off your alarm, which you had purposely placed at the other end of the room so you couldn’t hit snooze.

“It’s way too early,” Steph grumbles, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“Tell me about it.”

“Nothing like a morning skate at 7am to kick your ass. Happy Monday, and also a giant-fuck you to you too!”

You laugh, and Alexis opens the door that connects the adjacent room to yours. “Who the fuck is swearing this early in the morning. Go back to bed, morons.”

You and Steph exchange a look.

“Have you forgotten already?” Steph asks. She grabs a brush from a bag next to her bed and begins combing her blonde hair.


“Morning skate. 7am. Listed on the schedule they gave us yesterday?” You hold up the laminated pink paper, seemingly innocent upon first glance, but in reality the schedule printed on it is an intense, military-like division of your days, separated into training, eating, more training, and then a short time slot allocated for sleeping. Fun.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Alexis exclaims and then storms back into her side of the cabin, yelling at the other three girls to get their butts up.

Steph and you look at each other again and shake your heads before dissolving into laughter.

The bus ride to the hockey rink is short, fifteen minutes tops, but you relish the quietness. Everyone is still half-asleep, the bus devoid of any conversation. Breathing slowly, you take in the tranquility of the trees on the side of the road, and the way the sun illuminates the cloud of morning fog carpeting the fields of grass.

Twenty minutes after you arrive at the rink, you’re lacing up your final skate lace. It’s 6:58am.

“Remind me why I decided going to this camp was a good idea?” Steph whines as she snaps her chin strap into place.

“Because our team desperately needs conditioning. Especially you.”

“Yeah, true enough, but I could just force you to take me on runs. You could be my own personal dryland coach!”

You roll your eyes. “We’ve already tried that once, and how did that end up?”

Steph pouts, and you laugh, double knotting your laces before standing up.

You both jump at someone banging loudly at the door. It swings open and Alexis pokes her head inside. “Hurry up you two. You’re wasting precious time that could be spent scoping out all the hot guys.”

“Hot guys? What the hell are you on about?” Steph yelps.

“Hello.” Alexis waves her arm in the air. “I may have forgotten what time this skate was at, but I certainly remember them mentioning last night that the majority of our skates are co-ed.”

“Oh, shit!” Steph exclaims, turning to you with excitement and shock.

You try to match her expression but instead feel the blood drain out of your face.

“Yeah, so get your asses out there, otherwise no hotties for you.” Alexis motions you and Steph to follow, and against your better judgment, you grab your stick and slowly trudge out of the dressing room and onto the rink.

As your feet leave the rubber-coated floor and your blades hit the smooth surface of the ice, it’s like a switch has been flicked. You instantly relax. The rink is your home; no guy is going to intimidate you off the ice.

You skate several laps around the rink, warming-up your legs. You don’t pay attention to anyone else around you, but instead weave in and out of bodies as you feel your muscles gradually loosen. When the coach blows the whistle, and signals everyone over, you keep your focus solely on him. You’re here to train. You’ve worked too hard to make it to this level, and there’s no way you’re going to blow it by being distracted.

The drills are demanding, and involve every bit of concentration you can muster. 2 on 1’s, 3 on 2’s, breakouts, single-touch passing, and shooting exercises that test your slapshot, snapshot, and wristshot. By the end, you know your face is bright red without looking, and you can feel that your under-armour beneath your equipment is completely soaked with sweat.

The coach blows his whistle. “Alright, just before you leave, I want to test your stamina. On the line.”

Everyone around you groans.

“Let’s go! Stop standing around!” the coach barks, slamming his stick on the ice.

You line yourself up on the goal line, exhausted but secretly excited. You’ve always enjoyed suicides, as tiring as they are. They’re like a race, and you love to win.

The whistle blows and you’re off like a rocket. Everyone takes their first step a full second after you, and you use that to your advantage, propelling yourself forward. You race to the blue line, stop quickly before crossing over and hustling back to the goal line. You blaze through the exercise faster than anyone else, but when you’re halfway back from the far goal line, you notice a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye. Someone is drawing even, their long legs eating up the distance between you. You dig your blades deeper into the ice, powering forward with every bit of strength you have left. You are not going to lose.

The goal line approaches rapidly but the person has not let up. Bewildered by this, you extend your stride as much as your small legs will reach, but it isn’t enough. You and the other person cross the line at exactly the same time.

You stop sharply, blowing snow onto the boards behind you. You can’t believe you didn’t win. Who the hell is that fast? You try to look over at your newfound rival but the other players cross the line, obstructing your view.

Steph finds you in the crowd, and pats your helmet with her glove. “Holy shit, way to go girl,” gasps between panting.

You shake your head, disappointed. “Who tied me?”

“Not sure,” Steph says, looking around. “He’s like 6ft though, so his legs are twice as long as yours. You should be proud that you tied him.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to win.”

“Oh, Y/N, you kill me. You’re literally the only person I know that enjoys suicides, let alone considers them a race. Just try to be happy that you didn’t pass out.”

“Maybe you should run more and then you wouldn’t feel like you’re gonna pass out.”

“Oh shut-up.” She laughs, cross-checking you playfully.

The coach blows his whistle several times. “Take a knee.” He waits until everyone is paying attention. “Good work today. I’m impressed by the dedication and effort everybody put into today’s practice.” 

Some of the guys let out a small cheer, and everyone starts tapping their stick on the ice. 

The coach holds up his hand. “However, if you thought today was hard, I will let you know that it only gets worse from here on out. If you cannot handle the level of intensity, I suggest you leave right now.”

Nobody moves a muscle.

The coach grins, clapping his hands together. “Great. Now, just before I let you go, I’d like to congratulate our two winners at suicides today! Where are you guys?”

Steph nudges you so hard, you nearly fall over. You glare at her and stand up, making your way over to the coach. Curiously, you look over at your opponent.

Your stomach drops.

He’s smiling at you, the same attractive smirk he had on his face the previous night at dinner. His brown eyes seem to be laughing. You look away, blushing.

You’re suddenly aware of the coach looking at you expectantly. “What’s your name?” he repeats.

“Oh, um, I’m Y/N.”

“Alright, everyone, give a round of applause to Y/N and Auston for completing suicides the fastest!”

The group bangs their sticks on the ice, and you can’t help but smile slightly at the sound.

“For that, you two are free to go. Everyone else, you’re gonna help me clean up. Girls - you’re on puck duty. Guys - pylons and nets please.”

The moment everyone breaks apart to clean, you skate over to the door and leap off the ice, ignoring Auston’s gaze.

You’re nearly at your dressing room when you feel a glove grab your elbow gently.

“Hey, Y/N?” he says it like a question.

You exhale and turn to face him. “Yes?” You stare at up him, face emotionless. Cool, you’re playing it cool.

He rubs the back of his neck and flicks his eyes down before meeting yours. “I, um…I just wanted to say good job out there today. I didn’t know a girl could almost beat me.”

You cross your arms. What an asshole. “Oh, so you’re saying that you think girls aren’t fast enough to keep up with the boys?”

“No!” he blurts out, noticing your pissed-off expression. “No, that’s, that’s not what I meant.”

“So what did you mean?” you retort cooly, but you kind of feel bad for him. His cheeks are slightly chubby, giving him an cute, innocent look.

“I um, I just wanted to compliment you.”

“Oh. Well, thanks. I was surprised that a boy almost beat me.” You smile at him.

He laughs, and the sound makes your heart beat faster. You panic slightly. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Auston.”

With that, you turn sharply and walk away towards the dressing room before you can hear his reply.

[Part 2]

Officer named Daddy - Jungkook (Smut)

Finally its here! I’m really hoping you guys enjoy it. There was such a big build up for this that I was a little scared to post it, but never the less, here it it. Enjoy ;)

You where sat in your room, the cold oak desk you had been studying at for the past two hours becoming fascinating as your mind done everything in its power to procrastinate. You had a lecture from a police group in your university today the KNP-SWAT team, however you couldn’t seem to push one of the men out of your head, Head Officer Jeon Jungkook; his smile, cheeky and cute yet poisonous and sexy all at once, his fluffy yet slick burgundy hair and his toned body -from what you could see in that tight fitting uniform of his.- To refrain from loosing your mind, you decided to put your spotify playlist into action, hoping it would help you concentrate. After another painfully long thirty minutes of attempted study you moved down stairs to get a snack. You had already had dinner, so you decided on a cup of tea and a soft cookie, sitting on the couch watching a reality TV show. You had just cleaned up your meal and turned off all electronics down stairs, ready to go to bed, when you heard a knock on your door. You slowly walked over, unlocking and opening the door, looking out worriedly. No one would come to your door at this time, the fact you lived in an area prone to fires, drugs and break ins made you almost scared to do so, but never the less you proceeded. You where looking down at a pair of black patin Doc Martens, the double knotted laces leading up to black trousers. The legs where slim but firm, the calves muscular and thighs almost bulging out of the fabric around them. There was a hand on the belt of the trousers, the long fingers gripped the belt buckle firmly. The hands, followed with veiny extensors and flexors. You didn’t need the arms to flex to see the bulging muscles coming from the biceps and triceps. That was when you saw the black shirt, leather padding surrounding the shoulders, two gold badges on the left pocket of the shirt and one on the right. Above that, a police badge, your eyes widened as you made your way past the green-purple neck veins and define jawline to find the man himself, Jeon Jungkook. You unintentionally revealed your nerves, through the goose bumps that had appeared on your legs which only supported a pair of stripped grey booty shorts, you shivered at the cold breeze coming over your body. “Oh, please come in.” You spoke politely, allowing the officer to enter your home. “Would you like anything to drink?” You asked him, however all you really wanted to know was why this gorgeous man was in your house at this hour. “No I’m alright thank you. I was just…” He said resting his hands on his belt as he continued “coming to check your house, there was a noise complaint…” He spoke, unbuckling his belt. “Loud screaming, from upstairs” He said sliding the belt off and hitting it off his right palm. “No I’m home alone, there must be a mistake. There was no screaming” You said confused. His eyes instantly blackened, iris’s captivated in lust as his lips curved into a devious smirk, “Hmm…There will be.” He spoke as he backed you up against the door. “Aren’t you still working?!” you said, your breathing becoming heavy, your heat growing wet. “I got off work an hour ago, (y/n). I’ve been thinking about you ever since I caught your eye in the lecture hall this morning” He said, his voice was husky and his breaths sounded like growls. “Why are you doing this? What do you want?” You asked, your brain unable to register what a handsome man like him, would want to do with a simple girl like you. “I want you.” He said, as he pounced. His hands engulfed your face as his lips touched yours, through instinct you put your arms to his, in attempt to push him away however he simply grasped your wrists, pinning your arms above your head as he slid his tongue across your bottom lip, gaining entrance to your mouth. You felt his rough tongue skim over your mouth, he tasted like a police officer would, the aroma of coffee and donuts still lingering in his mouth, contrasting with the tea and cookie combination of yours. Instantly you where inactivated in his body, you where his for the night, wither you liked it or not. Your tongues battled together in a fight for dominance. As you both attempted to taste as much of each other as possible. You whimpered at the fact you couldn’t explore his body, being restrained from his hands. “Shh baby, in time.” He said as he dropped your hands, “Jump” He said, wrapping your legs around his waist, his hands squeezing your ass. Your arms where wrapped around his neck as both of you continued the harsh make out session. He carried you upstairs, “what room?” he asked breathlessly. “last on the right” you puffed. He lay you down on the bed, as he climbed on top of you. Pulling at the hem of your shirt before ripping it off to reveal your blue lace bra. His hand reaching round to the back, unclipping it and throwing it to the opposite side of the room as he moved this kiss from your lips, trailing them down to your jaw line, sucking ever so slightly, as he got lower his sucking and nipping became hasher. From your neck to your shoulder all the way down to your breasts. He massaged your left breast will his tongue harassed your right nipple. Your moans came out in long, slow blows, engulfed in pure pleasure by just his lips on your skin. He moved down to your shorts, sliding them down your smooth legs, leaving you in just your blue lace panties. Reaching round to his waist he pulled out a pair of shining silver hand cuffs, trailing the cold metal up your thighs and all the way up to the tips of your fingers, earning a shiver from you. He took your wrists one by one and cuffed them to your head board. Restraining you from touching him, making you want it all the more. He left you  laying there, with your legs open as he began to strip. First taking off his boots and tight trousers, revealing his boxers and tented bulge, begging to be touched. “Uhhh” You huffed as he slowly unbuttoned each of single button of his shirt. “Patience baby girl” he said as his shirt fell to the ground revealing his muscular, toned body and an in captivating ‘V’ line that led to his throbbing member. He crawled back over you, sitting in front of your legs. He carefully pulled the lace of the panties down your legs, as he began kissing up your thighs. He sucked harshly on the skin of your thigh, “Ah Jungkooook” You said as he edged closer to your heat. He slapped your thigh and stopped what he was doing. “That’s Daddy to you.” He said sternly. You gulped, nodding slightly. He continued in his tracks. He nipped and sucked at the skin only millimetres away from your heat. “Daddyyy…” You moaned out, needing him everywhere. He placed one hand on your thigh as the tip of his finger slid over your entrance, you groaned attempting to move forward but his grip held you still. Then he slowly slid his finger into your entrance, you moaned out leaning forward in attempt feel more of him. Once you had loosened up a little he added another finger, curling them to reach your g-spot. “Ahhh Daddy!!!” You screamed as you quivered under his fingers. “Not done yet baby” he said as he added another finger, stretching you out further. “Uh Daddy please!!” You yelled as he plunged his fingers into you curling round you, you could hold back your release anymore as you came all over him fingers. “Watch me.” He said as he took his three fingers into mouth, devouring your taste. It was a massive turn on, even more so when his head disappeared in between your legs. His hair tickling your thighs as his tongue slid over your slits, his tongue ventured deep into your pussy. Lapping up all of your juices before sucking and biting harshly on your clit, causing a mini release from being so wet for him. He slid back up to you, turning you on your side and kneeling on the bed. “Suck it, princess” Your eyes widened at his throbbing cock, but you did as he said you took the very tip of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue to taste his pre cum. “Don’t tease Daddy” He said pushing his hand into your hair and pushing himself into you. you began to suck as he began to grind into your mouth, face fucking you. You hollowed your cheeks around him, causing his head to fall back and a long groan to come from his throat. You flattened your tongue along his member and moaned into him, the vibrations became too much for him and he release into your mouth. You looked up at him questioningly “swallow.” He said, you done as he wished and let the warm, white liquid slide down your throat. “Good girl” he said, kissing your forehead. He walked back down to your legs, sliding them open again, “Do we need protection?” He asked, before making any moves. “No, i’m on birth control” You said. He nodded and smirked before slowly sliding into you, instantly your eyes closed and moans began erupting from your voice box. “Open your eyes, I want you to see what I’m doing to you” He said sternly. Your eyes opened as he pushed into you again. He stopped allowing you time to adjust, you simply nodded when he could move. He went slow at first, hitting all the right places, slowly and gently. “Please Daddy, Faster” You said moaning, he done as you said, bringing your left leg over his shoulder, he thrusted in and out of you faster and faster, hitting your g-spot with each powerful thrust “AHH DADDY!!! I-I’M GONNA…” You screamed loudly “Cum for me princess” As if following his orders, you released around his erect member, your release sent him over the edge too as you both rode out your orgasms together. He leaned down to his pocket, grabbing the keys to the handcuffs, uncaring you and throwing both the key and cuffs down to the floor. “Woah” you spoke, totally breathless. “So… why did you come here?” You asked him, still confused. “You caught my eye today, I honestly couldn’t get you out of my head. So I searched you in our register and found your address. I hadn’t planned to sleep with you tonight, just talk to you.” He said looking down at you as he snaked a hand around your waist. “Are you planning to commit or am I just a one nighter?” You asked worriedly, “Why don’t we go on a date, Friday night?” He asked looking down at you. You smiled and nodded. “Can you stay the night?” you asked him, shyly. “Of course I can.” He said kissing your fore head as you snuggled up under the blankets together.

Patching Things Up

Author’s note: So. Since I’m a huge fan of Newsies, I finally wrote a fanfic about it! There’s not much Davey and Crutchie fluff out there from what I’ve seen, so I took the liberty to write some. Hope you guys enjoy!

“Extra, Extra! Blazing inferno destroys town! Hundreds killed!” Jack held his newspaper high above his head, shouting out whatever came to his mind. After the strike, the headlines went back to being mediocre. Nothing on the pages was juicy enough to make good money, so he let his mind wander. The crazier the story, the more likely someone would be willing to buy the paper.

He was about to spout another headline, when he heard Crutchie chuckling beside him. “What?” Jack crossed his arms in defense. “You think you can do better?” Crutchie shook his head, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Nah. But haven’t you used the inferno story before?” Jack huffed and felt his cheeks heat up. Leave it to Crutchie to point out the flaws in his selling method. “So what? The headline’s lousy. I ain’t gettin’ nothin’ out of the actual stories in here.”

Crutchie laughed and nudged Jack’s arm. “Relax. I ain’t doin’ good either. I had to play the sympathy card today. He said, motioning to his crutch. “And you know I hate doin’ that.” Jack put his arm around Crutchie’s shoulders. “Yeah, I know. You wanna try sellin’ somewhere else? This spot stinks worse than the headline.” Crutchie nodded, and the two of them walked along the busy sidewalk, attempting to find a better spot to sell.

Jack glanced down at Crutchie’s boots, noticing one of them had come untied. He’d woken up late that morning, and hadn’t had time to double knot the laces like he normally did. Still, he didn’t think anything of it until Crutchie stepped on the shoelace, and proceeded to take another step forward.

“Crutchie, wait!”

That was the last thing Crutchie heard before he began to fall. As he did, time seemed to slow down, as if it was happening in slow motion. He barely had time to put his hands out before hitting the concrete.

Panic shot through Jack as he rushed to Crutchie’s side, searching for any signs of an injury. “Oh my god, Crutch, are you okay? I knew I shoulda tied those laces tighter, I’m so sorry!” His mouth was running a mile a minute, but he didn’t care. Crutchie tried his best to reassure him that he was okay, but Jack wasn’t buying it. “I know what I saw, Crutchie. You fell pretty hard.” He helped him to his feet and brushed him off. “Now, let’s get you home.” Despite Jack’s insisting, Crutchie stayed put. “Jack, I’m fine. I just tripped. It’s no big deal.”

Jack rolled up Crutchie’s sleeve to reveal a strawberry red scrape on his elbow. He raised an eyebrow. “You call that fine?” Crutchie crossed his arms in annoyance before the two of them began walking back to the Lodging House. It’s not that he wasn’t hurt, he just hated being fussed over. The guys did that enough as it was. He didn’t need this wound added to the list.

By the time they got to the Lodging House, Crutchie’s sleeve was stained with blood. He prayed that nobody would notice so he could play it off like he was fine. His hopes were dashed however, when he and Jack stepped inside and saw Davey sitting in a chair, his nose buried in a book. “Davey?” Jack asked. “What’re you doin’ back already?”

Davey jumped, surprised to hear other voices in the house. Jack snickerd. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Davey rolled his eyes and closed his book, making sure to mark the page. “You startled me, Jack. There’s a difference. Anyway, I sold all my papers early. The headline stinks, don’t you think?” Jack laughed and nodded. “Tell me about it. Worse than the Trolley Strike, huh, Crutch?” Crutchie nodded before realizing the attention was now focused on him. “Oh, and speaking of Crutchie, he took a pretty bad fall on the way back here. Think you could help us?” Davey got up from his seat and set the book down. “Well, sure. There should be some spare bandages in–” He stopped when he saw Crutchie’s elbow. He whistled. “That’s gonna need a lot more than a bandage…” He muttered to himself, as he took a closer look.

Crutchie tried to ignore the nervous fluttering in his stomach. “Really Davey, I’m right as rain. ‘Sides, ain’t your folks waitin’ for ya?” Davey shrugged. “Let ‘em wait. This is more important.” He took Crutchie by the arm and lead him into the bathroom. “Now, c’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

The fluttering in Crutchie’s stomach only intensified when he saw Davey soak a cloth with clear liquid. “Do you have to use Witch Hazel on it?” His voice shook more than he’d intended and he put his hand protectively over his elbow. “Do you want this to get infected?” Davey asked. Crutchie sighed, and shook his head.

There really was no reason to be afraid. After all, it was just a little alcohol. But Crutchie had experience with people tending to his wounds. And most times, it hurt. Badly. Which is why he yanked his arm away the minute the cloth touched his skin.

“Ow! Davey!

Davey crossed his arms. “You know, this would be over a lot faster if you’d stop squirming.” Crutchie put his hand back over his elbow. “I’m tryin’ Davey! I just– It hurts.” In that moment, Davey was reminded of all the times he’d patched up Les after he got hurt. He saw a little bit of that in Crutchie. The same panicked expression, and the same need for reassurance. “I know it does. But you gotta trust me, okay? I’ll be gentle, I promise.” With that, Crutchie reluctantly removed his hand, revealing the scrape underneath.

Crutchie shuddered as Davey began to dab at the scrape, and willed himself not to pull away again. Davey bit his lip. He hated hurting his brothers, even if what he was doing was ultimately helping them. “Hang in there, Crutchie.” Davey said, as he continued to dab at the wound. He hoped to instill at least some sense of security in the younger boy, but Crutchie still seemed tense. After a few more minutes, Davey wrapped a clean bandage around his elbow, chuckling to himself. “You know, you can open your eyes now. I’m all done.” Crutchie hesitantly open his eyes, relieved to find a bandage in place of the stinging alcohol from earlier.

A satisfied smirk grew on Davey’s lips as he saw Crutchie’s body relax. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Crutchie crossed his arms and gave a mock pout. “Yeah yeah, whatever.” Davey laughed and nudged Crutchie’s arm. As the two of them walked into the living room, Crutchie couldn’t help but smile too. Despite his protests, he was glad Davey was willing to patch him up when he needed it.