#.... Look I love benny probably a bit too much for my own good
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The Trouble with Tequila
Hello lovelies ! Today, we’re answering an anonymous request for some adorable Ben Barnes: “Hellooo! I know you probably have tons of requests on queue but this idea have been in my mind the whole day and I think it’s so cute and I have to share it with you. Since we all are thirsting over Mr. Ben Barnes and imagining lovely scenarios what about one where he and reader are engaged and they are out in a club (maybe his brother is there too) and reader is at the bar waiting for drinks or something, Ben is at table with his brother and he’s a bit drunk at this point of the night y’know, and he sees reader over there and he’s like “omg that woman is so beautiful i have to go and talk to her” and Jack is about to stop him but then he realizes is you who caught his brother’s eye in his drunken state and he finds it funny and cute and he encourages Ben to go to talk to you. And he’s all shy and cute and reader is a bit caught of guard at first and then she realizes what’s going on, and then Ben asks her out but his eyes catches your engagement ring and he’s all sad and be like “oh of course you’re engaged” and reader be “yes i’m engaged to a wonderful man . . . “ and she finish saying “i’m engaged to YOU” and Benny B be like “you engaged to me?“ jkyjkjykjy I just think he would be so freaking adorable and I can’t stop thinking about this”
Thank you so much for your request, anon! I hope you enjoy this cute little piece I’ve written for you!
I hope you all like this! Tell me what you think!
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Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader
Warnings: Adorable cuteness. Alcohol, obviously… so much fluff…
Summary: You spend an evening in a club with Ben and his brother, but Ben gets a little too drunk and is very confused when he realizes that the pretty woman at the bar is actually engaged to him… how lucky he is!
Word Count: 2430
Ben Barnes’ Masterlist – Main Masterlist
It was a nice evening. You had spent some time dancing with Jack – as Ben obviously remained safely by the table. The club was pretty busy but you didn’t feel too overwhelmed by the crowd. The music was perfect for jumping around, and your group of friends was joyful and full of laughter tonight. Under the blinking lights, in the dimly lit room, you reckoned that this evening was going brilliantly.
You were enjoying yourself, and so was Ben. Or well, Ben seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much, actually. You looked at him with confusion painted all over your features when he downed yet another tequila shot…
“You’re okay, baby?” you asked, speaking loudly to cover the music. But Ben gave you a toothy grin, his eyelids falling a little more than usual over his dark eyes because of the liquor.
“I’m good,” he nodded, words slurred. “Brilliant, actually.”
“I think you should slow down, you’re getting pretty drunk…”
But Ben merely rolled his eyes.
“I’m perfectly fine, darling. I know what I’m doing.”
“Really?”
“Of course! I know my limits.”
As if to prove a point, he downed yet another shot and grinned, his cheeks flushed with alcohol, the red spreading down his neck and over his upper chest, visible as he had left the first buttons of his black shirt undone.
It was your turn to roll your eyes.
“I’m going to the toilets, and then I’ll get myself another drink. I’ll be right back, love.”
He nodded, not letting you leave before he got a peck on the lips, a dreamy smile lingering across his features as you pulled away.
You were gone for a while, taking a break on your own for a few minutes before joining back the party that was going on outside the safety of the bathroom, and then waiting by the bar to order a new drink. Meanwhile, Ben was getting more drunk. He had stopped drinking, but the effects of the successive shots he had downed in a matter of minutes were finally hitting him fully.
His head was spinning, he felt giddy and excited but his mind was blurred, as if surrounded by fog.
“You’re alright, Ben?” his brother asked him, noticing that he wasn’t sitting straight anymore and that his eyelids seemed even heavier than before.
“Yeah… I’m great,” Ben smiled, but his words were too slurred now. “Just… a little tired.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Nah! I’m fine…”
“You’re not fine! Come on, that’s enough!” Jack admonished, grabbing Ben’s next drink before he could raise it to his lips.
“Hey! I’m the older brother!” Ben protested. “I’m the one to look after you and be a pain in your arse! Give me that!”
But as he leaned further, the room span faster, and Ben blinked a few times.
“Why is the room moving? Are we on a boat?”
“No, Ben. We’re in a club.”
“Ha… yes… Hmmm… I think I’m gonna throw up.”
Jack rolled his eyes, cursing under his breath, but he couldn’t simply abandon his brother like this.
“You’ll hear about this. I’ll give you hell for this, you asshole.”
“Mind your language, you jerk!”
“Dimwit!”
“Fucker!”
But as Jack was helping him to his feet, Ben seemed to spot something beyond his brother’s shoulder, and his eyes grew a little round. His pupils were already dilated because of the liquor, but they grew even more at the sight…
There was this woman at the bar. God, she was so beautiful. Out-of-this-world kind of gorgeous…
Jack frowned as Ben suddenly refused to budge.
“Come on, asshole!”
“Jack… I think I’ve just fallen in love…”
Ben’s brother frowned hard.
“What?”
“I need to go talk to this girl and get her number…”
“What girl? What are you talking about, you moron!?”
Jack didn’t get it. He knew his brother like the back of his hand, he wasn’t the kind to cheat on you. He would never look at another woman. He loved you way too much for that, and he was too loyal, too kind-hearted to even consider it for a second…
But then Jack turned around to follow his brother’s gaze and his eyes landed on… you.
You were the woman Ben had spotted and fallen head-over-heels for in the span of a second. You were waiting for your drink, standing by the bar, looking around to pass the time.
Jack exploded with laughter.
“This girl? Over there?” he asked Ben.
“Yeah… she’s so pretty…”
Ben hiccupped, blinking a couple of times.
“I’m gonna go and talk to her!” he decided.
And Jack found this absolutely hilarious. He would never let Ben live down to this moment. He would remind him every chance he got how stupid alcohol made him.
“Well, go ahead then, before she leaves.”
Ben nodded, shuffling out of his brother’s hold, and with clumsy steps, he made his way through the crowd.
When he finally reached you, you welcomed him with a bright smile. And he was absolutely blinded by the sight.
“Hi,” he breathed, blushing profusely, growing a little shy now that he had to talk to you.
“Hi, handsome,” you answered, your smile growing amused, and his heart skipped a beat at the pet name.
“I just… I wondered if I could buy you a drink. Because I think you’re absolutely gorgeous. And I… Can I have your number?”
You frowned at that, puzzled.
“My number? What are you talking about, Ben?”
He gasped, eyes growing round.
“How can you know my name?”
Your frown deepened.
“Is it a joke?”
“No, I… I love you. I just saw you over there and… puff! In love! At first sight… crazy...”
You were about to answer when you saw Jack laughing his arse off behind Ben, a few steps away, and he gestured to you that Ben was losing his mind and you needed to play along.
You grew more amused, shaking your head, still a little puzzled.
Ben tried to lean against the bar but stumbled, and you caught him before he would fall.
“I reckon you had a little too much to drink, baby,” you said in a gentle voice.
Ben gave you the brightest grin.
“I love it when you call me that.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah… and when you said my name too, I love it. It sounds so good when you say it.”
He frowned as he looked down at his forearm, where your hand still rested and held onto his shirt.
He blinked.
“You’re… you’re engaged? You’re married?”
“Engaged,” you answered, struggling not to laugh.
“Oh… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come over, then. But of course… the perfect woman has to be engaged to another guy…”
He kept on apologizing profusely, before you would laugh, and he fell silent, struck by the sound.
“I’m engaged to a wonderful man. He makes me very happy.”
Ben nodded slowly, looking quite sad by now, and you decided to put him out of his misery, at long last.
“I’m engaged to you, silly!” you explained, but Ben frowned hard.
He blinked again. Once, twice, thrice.
“You… you’re engaged… to me?”
“Yes, Ben. I’m engaged to you.”
“You’re engaged to ME?!” he asked again, aghast. “But… how could I get so lucky?”
Your heart fluttered at the earnest question, and you shrugged.
“I’m asking myself the same question. I often wonder how I got lucky enough to be with you.”
He grinned at that.
“So… I’m getting married.”
“You are. To me.”
He threw his arms up in celebration, and you couldn’t refrain your mocking laughter.
“Ben, what are you doing?”
“I’m getting married! Oh… but of course, I’m silly. I’m getting married to Y/N!”
He heaved a dreamy smile, closing his eyes and letting his arms fall back to his sides.
“Y/N… she’s amazing. She’s so smart, and so funny, and so kind, and so pretty. Do you have any idea how gorgeous she is? She’s… perfect…”
Your heart radiated warmth and love at his words.
But then, he blinked his eyes open again, and he looked at you with a frown and a tilt of his head.
“But… if we’re engaged. And I’m with Y/N… You’re Y/N!” he realized, and before you could react, he had wrapped his arms around you and was holding you so tight you could barely breathe at all. “Y/N! I love you so much!”
You laughed, patting his back.
“I love you too, baby. But you’re crushing me a little now.”
“I don’t care. I’ll crush you into a marshmallow.”
“A marshmallow?”
“Yes… or… I don’t know what you can crush. What can you crush?”
You laughed at his silly thoughts, when the waiter reappeared, at long last, with your drink.
When Ben finally pulled away, you looked at Jack, shaking your head at him.
“Come on, help me get him in a cab,” you ordered, and Jack complied without much of a protest.
“What about your drink?” he asked, but he was interrupting by Ben’s voice.
“Jack! Have I ever told you how much I love Y/N? Did you know that she had the softest skin… and the most beautiful eyes… and she can even remember stuff like grocery lists! Isn’t that amazing?!”
You and Jack laughed so much at Ben, your stomachs hurt.
“Wow, crazy! You’re a lucky bastard for landing this one!” Jack played along, half-carrying his brother out of the club and into the street.
“Yeah, I’m so lucky… the luckiest…”
You thanked Jack as he offered to pay for the drinks for the night so you could take Ben home.
“Don’t get your mind twisted!” he replied. “I’m not doing this out of charity. I’d just rather pay for all the drinks than having to deal with him tonight!”
You laughed at that, kissing his cheek and bidding him a good night before you would climb in the taxi with Ben.
You struggled a little to get him home, but you thought the worst was behind you as you locked the door.
How mistaken you were…
Ben started to fuss around when he struggled to untie his shoes. He was taking off his shirt when he grew paler, and looked up at you with a frown.
“I think I’m going to throw up…”
You barely had enough time to push him into the bathroom and make him kneel before the toilets before he was throwing up.
You cursed at his stupidity for drinking so much and making himself so sick, and rubbed his back until he was done. You helped him back to his feet and let him brush his teeth.
“Thank you,” he mumbled when you brushed a few strands of his hair out of his face.
“I’ll get you some clean clothes, you get undressed, okay, my love?”
He obediently nodded, and you thought you could leave him alone for a minute.
Again… how mistaken you were…
When you walked back into the bathroom with some pyjamas, Ben was under the shower… fully dressed.
He had opened the buttons of his shirt, it hung open, the thin, black material clanging to his skin because of the cold water. His hair was flattened across his face, and his dark pants were drenched as well already…
You gasped, hurrying to turn off the water.
“What on earth are you doing?!” you admonished.
“I’m showering.”
“Yes, I can see that. But in your clothes?”
“It would save time to do both at once. You wash yourself and the clothes! Wow… that’s genius. Why haven’t I thought of that before?”
“Because it’s a stupid idea.”
He pouted, looking genuinely sad.
“You think I’m stupid?”
You heaved an annoyed sigh, and yet you couldn’t refrain the fondness in your tone as you answered.
“Of course, I don’t think you’re stupid. But you’re drunk right now. It’s late, and we need to put you to bed so you can sleep. Come on, you need to drink some water before going to bed.”
But he shook his head, beginning to strip.
“I don’t want to go to bed. I want to stay in the shower, it feels nice. You could join me! I could see you naked…”
He was interrupted by a hiccup, and you laughed at him, you couldn’t help it.
“Come on, love. Please, I’m very tired, I want to go to sleep too. Come on, get out.”
He complied, let you stop the water and help him get dry before he would put on some clothes again. You were surprised when he squished your cheeks.
“You are adorable,” he mumbled, then yawned. “You are as adorable as a pancake. A little mush mush muffin.”
“You’re making no sense, love.”
“I am making the most sense. Your skin is very soft too. And I want to squish!”
You broke free with a giggle, shaking your head at his silliness.
“Now, off to bed! Come on, I’m tired.”
“Anything you want, darling.”
He let you guide him to the bedroom, and you tucked him in before lying down by his side and turning off the light.
He shuffled closer, held you tight, cuddled you and you were happy to comply when he moved to be the little spoon.
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered in the bedroom filled with darkness and the steady sounds of your two breaths. “I love you so much, it’s crazy. I want to spend my whole life with you. And… perhaps now isn’t the right time for me to ask this but… would you marry me? Cause I’d really like to be your husband. And I’d really like for you to be my wife too.”
You grinned, kissing his hair.
“Yes, Ben. I want to marry you. Actually, I’ve already said yes. Don’t you remember? I have a ring already.”
But when you looked down at him, he was already fast asleep.
The next morning, Ben woke to the worst headache of his life, and when you told him about your crazy adventures of the previous night – from his attempt to get your number to him throwing up and taking a shower with his clothes still on – Ben’s cheeks turned the deepest shade of red you had ever seen on him.
He buried his face in his hands in embarrassment, and apologized profusely, but you didn’t mind. At the end of the day, all of his actions showed how much he loved you. There was no harm done. You would tease him endlessly for that night though.
And Ben swore to never drink tequila ever again…
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Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @sergeantbuckybarnes @wolfmoonmusic
#ben barnes#ben barnes x reader#ben barnes x you#ben barnes x y/n#ben barnes fanfiction#ben barnes oneshot#fanfiction#fanfic#writing
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Ok so we know you love Benny (rightfully so, I mean look at the man) but do you have any thoughts on the other Chairmen? Swank and Tommy specifically?
I have so many thoughts on the Vegas families but even more on the Chairmen just because of how unique their position is.
Like to start off, I have mentioned and still fully believe the Chairmen are the most paranoid and distrusting of all of the Vegas families. You can get sucked into many personal dramas and plights when it comes to the other Vegas Families; Quest-lines that get you super involved with their inner workings and pasts, ergo, quest-lines like Beyond the Beef and How Little We Know. Other than the very little side quest we get from Tommy, where you don’t even out in a good word for the Aces Theater for the talent recruits, your very boxed out with the Chairmen.
While the other families are more curious and intrigued by the NCR and Legion tensions rising, House being killed and other things, the Chairmen are always paranoid, concerned and negative. They mention wanting to leave like in the old days but can’t drop the act. They don’t mention anything that isn’t in a way that relates back to them and it tells how little they wish to or do interact with those outside the family. Swank mentions how he doesn’t trust the other families and the sentiments are shared with Tommy who discourages you from seeing the other sights. They are probably not purposely isolating themselves but they keep to their own. I only think this is extrapolated by House favoring Benny as a successor and possibly more restrictions on them. They were the first family and likely the prototype of whatever is detailed in their contracts. House was not as lenient as he is now, taking Swank referring to House’s rules into account.
Specifically about Tommy and Swank is interesting. Tommy feels like he’s older to me, not like more mature but he’s been around to see how far the Boot-Riders changed into the Chairmen. He’s not like an old guy either but older than Swank and Benny. I like to think he’s a middle ground to Swank and Benny, where Benny is the idealist, Swank is the nihilist and he’s there realist. You gotta real with people when you work in entertainment. He has a keen eye and can tell when things aren’t right but doesn’t jump out of his lane, not without provocation that is. In relation to Benny, I think Tommy’s like a snide older brother type guy. He rips on Benny cause the guy is so obsessed with not being seen as a tribal anymore but Tommy of all people can see when someone is playing too much into a bit. Benny keeps him close cause he keeps him real.
Swank is described in universe by House as being dependable but unimaginative. I don’t think that’s fully the case but he isn’t the person to push things in my eyes either. He has complaints but he does what he’s asked of and is loyal. More of a “Are you sure” Man than a “Yes” Man. I don’t think he sees the best in the people around him but prefers to see them as static. I take this with how hard it is to convince him that Benny is a traitor and how he seems shocked you are so ready to kill him. Things run a certain why and it’s why he likes that. It’s why he’s so good a managing The Tops. He wants things to run smooth and easy and everyone to be having a time. He’s the type to struggle with a shift in change at first but then forget why when the new song and dance start to come naturally. He plays the part just like Benny but also reminds him of what they came from. He’s his most trusted advisor and friend keeps him in focus.
This is all personal opinion and just a quick run down of it. But I hope I answered at least some of what you asked:p
#like the chairmen are so odd to me cause other than Benny they have no shit going on#like of all the asses in the game Benny isn’t even close to top on a minor scale outside what he did to the courier#like their biggest issue is The Aces needing more acts like why are they the only group that collectively just wants to run the casino#but yeah the chairmen had to change themselves the most when it came to functionality like the WGS is still food based and the Omertas can#still be blood thirsty and vile but they are like squeaky clean Vegas fun#drinking and booze but none of the other main features of their tribal culture no fighting no displays or honor having to be in the same#place constantly like it’s understandable why they struggle as they specifically complain about the whole lifestyle while the other famalie#just hate one aspect#Tommy to me keeps Benny real to himself while Swank keeps him real to others#cause you can’t tell me swank don’t mean something to him when he just listens when he’s told to go to his room#just I wish we got a chairmen quest outside of Bennys whole thing cause they get pushed to the center just to be out of focus#fallout#fallout new vegas#swank fnv#tommy fnv#tommy torini#the chairmen fnv#the chairman#benny gecko#ask#anon
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Act 3 - Getting Lucky
Praise Kink (Robin's Chapter)
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Series Summary: (11.2k) Fall is settling in in the Windy City, and Steve and Robin are swept up in their overthinking. The pair are left to their own devices at the shop while Murray is off traveling to Sex Toy conventions. Robin and Alex have grown closer and are the perfect pair, but Robin’s growing a bit of a complex because the relationship isn’t quite a s reciprocal as she’d like, so she calls in the reserves to give her the tutorial she needs to overcome her trepidation and dive right in. In order to repay Steve for his thorough tutorial, the girls start to meddle, because if they can see one thing, it’s that Steve loves a good self-sabotage. Everyone’s a little concerned over the opinions of others and seeking praise and reassurance in all the wrong places, so grab a cozy blanket, be a good girl and enjoy this chapter of Get Off.
Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Sex paraphernalia, dildos of all variety, sexual innuendo aplenty, eating pussy and explicit descriptions of said act, dirty talk and praise kink, allusions to jerking off.
“I swear to Christ. ROB! I know you have it!” Steve shouts out as he’s pacing through the apartment corridor looking everywhere but nowhere all at once. The pacing was more of a nervous habit, looking like a mother who is trying to walk off her frustration before she loses her cool on her lovely, doe eyed child after they broke the expensive family vase. Speaking from experience as the boy who knocked over said vase…he’s probably picked up a few mannerisms from his mother, now that he thinks about it. Back when she had time for him. He shakes his head in annoyance - at Robin and his childhood - hands flailing in the air above his head “You gotta fuckin stay out of my closet!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Steve.” Her head pops out of the bathroom, looking down the hall at her friend who is zipping between his room and hers.
“You still have BOXES in there Robin. BOXES. We’ve lived here six months. SIX. We’ve gone through an entire season. It’s fall now. Please for the love of God, unpack your things. How do you find anything in there?”
“I know where my things are, thank you very much. I just happen to enjoy some of the things from your closet, so sue me.”
Steve is exasperated with his friend. He has been dealing with Robin encouraging him to spend every last extra dollar he has after bills, beers at Benny’s and whatever else they do to fill their time to buy new clothing because his “style is like a billboard asking for abstinence in this city,” yet she is sticking her nose in there every other day stealing pieces of clothing he’s had for years. “One man’s trash is another lesbian’s treasure” she tells him every time he bitches about the double standard.
“I fuckin told you. Hands off the yellow sweater. Off limits. That and this jacket….they’re NOT getting traded in. They are not fair game. Got it?” he’s glaring at her, one hand on his hip, the other holding up a steely gray Members Only jacket she still can’t believe hasn’t been ruined from all of the bullshit it’s been through back at home.
“Yeah yeah, It’s a great layering piece, can you even blame me? How do you even still have that thing, anyway? Like, how wasn’t it ruined after Billy clocked you right in the nose?”
“ROBIN. SHUT UP!” he shouts, storming off to his room to get ready for their shift.
“Love you too, Dingus!”
Robin finishes readying herself for their afternoon at work, stepping out of the bathroom after perfectly smudging her imperfect eye pencil and adding a red lip that rivals the auburn in her hair. Fiery undertones just like the girl. Her lips, her hair, her personality - they all match her new red Doc Martin boots that she’s really just awful complaining about. She heard all about it - how hard it was to break those fuckers in. Got some tips from the Queens at The Rainbow Room that she’s gone back to now for shows numerous times since that first night. Alex asked her upwards of 10 times if she was sure she wanted them and if she was ready for the commitment to breaking them in so they don’t lay dead like a fashion sacrifice at the back of her closet. Told Steve all about how she was going to push through and how it couldn’t be that bad.
Well…it was. It was that bad - and Robin is not built to stick it out. She’s not formulated to power through. The problem is, she wants to wear them. Needs to wear them. They look good. So she settles on the only thing she’s ever been able to do to distract her from her pain (emotional and physical) and that’s: Never shut up and complain about it non-stop but only to Steve and take her entire bad mood out on Steve. Needless to say…Steve is tired.
Steve is in the kitchen, two brown bags perched on the counter top. “Apple or banana Robbie?” he asks, holding up one of each in the air. “Banana. Definitely.” she smirks, as he tosses it in the bag, labeled with scrawling chicken scratch Robin along the front in pen. She leans against the counter as he wraps up two sandwiches, tosses in some snacks and folds over the bag before handing it to her.
“Thanks mom.”
Steve doesn’t grace her with a response. He just rolls his eyes as he tosses on his jacket and grabs his keys. “Let’s go, loser. And don’t drag your feet in those boots. Pick them up and fuckin walk. We got a shift to get to.”
The lock clanks as Steve opens up the front door and clicks on the neon sign in the window to designate the shop is open for business. Murray handed Steve the keys last week before he headed off to Las Vegas for an annual Adult Industry Product Conference. Showed Steve the brochure for Sensual Revolution '93 and told him "Maybe I'll bring ya along next year, big boy. Just take care of my baby while I'm gone and you never know! I might just upgrade you from Sex Shop Employee to Sex Shop Supervisor."
Not that Steve had aspirations to move up in the world of The Hideout and make a career out of it, but if Steve could tide off his father a little longer by being able to tell him that he's a Retail Supervisor that might buy him a little more time without hearing about how bullshit his work is.
"We're open Rob! I'm gonna go restock the shelves in the back."
"Yeah buddy. I got the register! I still can't believe that massive rush on massage oils last week. I still wanna know what sparked that… " she trails off.
Everything seems fine for the rest of the morning until the loud hiss of a massive delivery truck arrives out front, blocking up the narrow lanes of the city streets, horns honking and shouts out the passenger side windows starting immediately. Robin perks up, setting all four legs of her wooden stool back on the ground.
“Uh, Dingus? Are we expecting a delivery?”
“No…what are you talking about Robin?” Steve shouts from his spot, crouched down in the back stocking the lower shelves. He hears the bell ding, and just as he stands up to peer out and what’s going on he sees the delivery hat of a man at the counter and the expansive vista of the biggest delivery truck he’s ever seen show up at the shop covering every inch of space their front windows have to offer.
Robin's eyes widen as she reads the delivery slip, "Urgent: Assorted dildos for The Hideout."
She bellows out a laugh, not once looking up from the packing slip she still holds in her hands. “Steve. The man says you need to sign for these.”
“What the fuck is it Rob?” And with that, she silently extends the paper out to her friend. He snatches it quickly as she holds back her chuckling, rumbles leaving her nose that emanates in the back of her throat. His eyes scan the form until he gets to the bottom, reading the slip he does a double take. with an unexpected, jaw-dropping inventory of various dildos, more than they could ever imagine.
“I’m not…I can’t sign for this! He didn’t say a goddamn thing about any delivery let alone this! It can’t be right. Nope…. I…no.”
Steve’s still rambling a bit as he walks out the front door to the truck, along with the driver. Robin’s lips are curled up in a permanent smile as she chomps on her doublemint gum, getting the worlds biggest kick out of watching Steve pacing back and forth on the concrete, hands alternating between flailing in the air and resting on his hips in a stance that looks both like dominance and defeat all wrapped into one.
Before long, Steve comes barreling through the front door, pushed open by force with both hands, finding them raised up by his ears in surrender and shaking his head in irritation. “They’re bringing them in Rob. It’s 10 pallets. 10 PALLETS OF DILDOS. I don’t even know where we’re gonna stick all these dicks. Jesus.”
“TEN? What the fuck? What happened?”
“Apparently Murray’s having a grand old time in Vegas. Did a little bulk ordering at the conference. Got them shipped direct and told the company Harrington’s got em.” his face scrunches up as he mocks Murray’s intonations.
“No…it’s fine. It’s cool. We’ve got it. We’ll figure it out.”
“Steve…for two people who have never handled that much dick in their entire lives, I’m a little skeptical.”
“No, no…if Murray were here…what stupid shit would he have us doing?”
And with that, Steve sets off. He immediately figures that Murray would be blasting off directions for him to unload the goods, so after ripping open the wrapping of the pallets himself…he instead naturally gives that job to Robin. Figuring Murray wants to offload the old inventory, Steve gets some sale information ready and decides to mark down everything on the floor - sure as shit that Murray got some new and improved models, fancier faux cocks, better colors, better…whatever bells and whistles. He doesn’t care really…he just needs to make room.
After running off a huge stack of flyers on the copier in Murray’s office, he tells Robin he’s heading out. With a groan from the girl that echoed in the storeroom, he promised he’d return with a fresh cup of coffee and her favorite muffin if she’d just shut the fuck up about it. “But Steeeve” she groans “I can’t look at any more of these. Look at this one! It’s an actual monster cock. It’s got tentacles!”
“Aw, ew, gross.” his nose scrunches up and he turns on the balls of his feet, the new black chucks already fading a bit since they’re suddenly all he’s wearing - the red swoosh of his Nike Cortez’ tucked back a little further in his closet than they’d ever have been before. He jogs out the front door, stack of thin copy papers tucked as best he can under his arms,
It’s a warm fall day today, sun heating up the streets in the warmth of the afternoon, as he maneuvers the busy city sidewalks, tails of his unbuttoned shirt trailing behind him, a well-worn black band t-shirt he picked up from the Goodwill downtown tucked into his denim. He almost didn’t pay any mind to the shirt as he scoured for his size in the bin laid out before him, but threw it on top of his pile anyway after reading the band scrawled across the front - Pearl Jam.
Steve’s on a mission. He’s trying to get down the street to some of their notorious partners so he can tack up a flyer on their community board, or leave a stack of them at their bar or with the bouncer. Anywhere he knows won’t turn up their nose at a rudimentary flyer boasting discounted dildos. He makes a mental note to insist that Hopper and Joyce leave some on the bar at Benny’s even though he knows at least Hopper will bitch about it nonstop. He knows Joyce’ll look at him like a doting mama before scowling at her counterpart and telling the boy Whatever you need, honey.
He doesn’t see you until you’re right on top of him, and to be fair, you didn’t see him either. So when your chests connect in a thump and everything the both of you are carrying falls to the gritty sidewalk, both of your first instincts are to bitch about it. “What the fuck is your problem man, y’wanna watch where you’re going next time?” you scowl.
Before he could even get the snarky words out of his mouth, he says your name and you snapped out of it in an instant. “Oh God, Steve. It’s you! Sorry, I…I’m just in a fuckin’ mood today. I’m knee deep in midterms and I really just don’t want to read another essay about family dynamics and how my dads expectations really fucked me up - y’know?”
“Yeah, oh I know. I mean, not about the grading essays thing, but…about the dads expectations fucking you up. That part I can relate to. Not the smartie pants stuff.”
“Ok, well…” Your eyes roam up and down his face, seeing how scatterbrained he looks, now crumpled wads of paper crushed up against his chest. “We’ll unpack that little tidbit another time, then. Haven’t seen you in a few weeks. Maybe some coffee again? That shop by your place was nice last time we met up. Good music spinning, so - y’know they got me hooked.”
Steve nods in agreement. After that night in the cab, you’ve seen eachother a few times. Nothing crazy, but intentionally. First you met up at the record store so you could show him some other albums he might like. The next time, you went back to the ice cream place from that ill-fated date night because for some reason, ever since then, you’ve been jonesing for a scoop of that peanut butter swirl ice cream and ended up sitting for two hours just talking.
The last time, he invited you to their favorite coffee shop, sat at a table just adjacent to where Robin and Alex sat, scooping the foam off of one anothers cappuccinos and lattes with their fingers, ankles tangled together under the table, clearly whispering and staring at the pair of them and doing an awful job of keeping their voices low as they spend the whole time making conjecture about what exactly is going on here with the two of them.
Robin was nice, she seemed quirky and fun and Alex seemed like some of the angsty, take-on-too-much-responsibility type girls trying to stand out in the crowd at the University you’re teaching at - which basically means you know exactly how to socialize with her if need be. But since then, you’ve been so wrapped up in the start of your semester, taking on a bigger courseload than normal and getting wrapped right up in the happenings of the fall semester to keep up with anything but teaching and grading.
Steve finally talks after a few seconds “Yeah, it’s really…been awhile. Thought you forgot about me.”
“No. No! Well…you haven’t forgotten about me huh?” Your eyes flick down to his shirt, the typography finally catches your eye, and you point to it with a smirk.
“What do you have here, anyway?” You snatch one of the fliers off the ground as the autumn breeze starts to swirl it around at your feet.
“It’s nothing! No…well. Our boss got a huge shipment in - like, HUGE and we have to make room…..on the floor. So….I’m running a sale.”
“Oh hoh hoh, this is great. Is Robin working? I kinda need a break. Show me this shop of yours? Please? I gotta see the merchandise.”
He is absolutely dreading this. He knows he can’t say no to you. He’s been doing great those few times you hung out together, but he can’t deny that just thinking about you makes him sweat, and he has continued to - over and over and over again - indulge himself to thoughts of your voice, your face, your body as he loses himself in the tense grip of his fist. So you have no idea how much of a hold you have on the guy. Blissfully ignorant of the fact that you have him wrapped around your little finger. And he’s utterly embarrassed, because he knows it. Stupid Steve getting obsessed with another girl again. Convincing himself he’s in love. Yeah…
The pair of you walk through the door of the shop not long after that. The sounds of voices from the back room ring out, cackling laughter that is irrefutably Robin echoing through the store. Steve leads you back behind the curtain to see Alex sitting, entirely amused watching Robin lose her cool at every dildo she pulls from the box. Robin is there, sitting cross-legged, holding up a gigantic transparent pink dildo, wobbling in the air, her cheeks almost the same color as the jiggling member. “People fit THIS up there? Who LIKES that? I’ll…Look at this thing!”
You immediately burst out in laughter and Robin looks up, beaming when she sees you. Eyes darting back and forth between you and Steve. “It’s not as bad as you think, Robin.” you say. Entirely too seriously, and Steve almost gives himself whiplash looking at you as you shrug it off and move closer to inspect the wares. “Ran into Steve on the street, saw you guys were having a sale and I HAD to see all the fuss.”
“Steve…lotsa stuffin’ the muffin gonna be going on after we sell those bad boys.”
A litany of curses rolls off of Steve's tongue in response as he yells something about setting up a sale display in the front.
They all follow Steve out to the floor as he works up the display space. Robin slides over next to him and starts to help, setting a box filled to the brim, bulbous heads sticking out over the edge. She leans over into his shoulder so she can whisper “Stevie…your face is way too serious right now. The girl you like is here while you’re tossing around fake dicks. You gotta smile about it or…lighten up or something. She’s not gonna like your sourpuss face. I think I’m the only one that puts up with that”
“Rob…she's not.. I don’t - '' but he’s cut off by the whirr and buzz of a pile of vibrating dildos Robin has accidentally activated. Moving and bouncing while making an incredible racket against the glass top of the case, the dildos start toppling over the ones Steve has meticulously stacked already and buzzing right off the side of the case and onto the floor. The vibrating dildos are chaotically bouncing and toppling everywhere. “Shut up, you two!” Robin yells back at you and Alex sitting curled up in the seating area, faces red with laughter.
Just then, a group of the shop's regular customers start trickling in flyers in hand, intrigued by the commotion. Robin, overwhelmed with the chaotic situation she herself unfurled, immediately goes to assist the customers, leaving Steve behind to deal with the cacophony of mechanical penises. To distract from the mess, Robin begins a rambling speech about the history and uses of various dildos, sharing more information than anyone asked for and with surprising accuracy and detail. The three of you all look on in amazement and curiosity as Robin suddenly transforms from a bumbling, blushing sexual idiot to this dildo encyclopedia in no time.
“Hey! Ladies…watch this!” Steve picks up a few of the dildos and starts juggling them in the middle of the store with particular ease. In a rare moment where Steve shakes off the uptight strings that tie him up and hold him down, his effort to make things a bit more lighthearted, pay off.
Everyone’s hollering and smiling and laughing, however, his juggling skills are far from perfect. After a good run, he misses one - a big sparkly silicone thing that starts bouncing wildly across the counter and lands with a smack and a slap in front of the customer at the register. Robin and the customer look down at it, mouths open in disbelief.
Steve’s bracing himself to get yelled at by one or both of them, but instead both blow out a laugh they were holding back before the whole store erupts into amused giggling and full on laughing fits.
After the shop closes that afternoon, the four of you find yourself walking down the sidewalks, sky overcast with the October chill that creeps in at sunset to steal away the warmth and glow of the day. Standing in front of a bowling alley tucked away on a side street, Alex cocks her eyebrows at the others and says “How about we have some more fun?”
Knees knocking together as you and Steve sit shoulder to shoulder tying your ratty, overworn bowling shoes onto your feet, Robin and Alex return with drinks from the bar and plop down next to you. “Drinks on me tonight, assholes.” Robin proclaims happily - that is until Steve quips back “Good, you owed me for your stupid dead keychain pet again anyway.”
Narrowing her eyes at Steve’s, she ignores his commentary and quickly moves on. “Alright, two on two. Let’s see how bad this is gonna go!” She claps her hands and rubs them together in preparation.
“Guess it’s you and me, huh?” You bump shoulders with Steve, “I promise, I’m not that bad, so maybe we have a shot.”
Over the next hour the group is rolling with fits of giggles and laughter after dropped bowling balls and rolls down the gutter and baskets full of bar popcorn, kernels falling at their feet as they talk.
On one side, Robin’s begging for bumpers after four in a row has Alex taunting her to no end. Beers are refilled while Alex tugs on Robin’s belt loops to maneuver around her, palm running over the sliver of exposed skin on her back as she leans down to grab her ball. Cheers are shouted while Robin celebrates a Spare with a chaste kiss to the apple of Alex’s cheek. Comfortable silences are filled with her nervously picking at the strings jutting out on the frayed knee of Alex’s pants and filling the void by picking at the cuticles of her nails instead when Alex gets up to take her turn.
On the other side, Steve has bumped into you twice. Once causing your ball to fall out of your hands and barely missing your feet. He’s gotten his arm tangled in his open flannel shirt as he tosses the ball, so he takes it off and hangs it over the back of the chair where you’re sitting, the sides of his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he moves away and eyes darting nervously when he hears a tiny scoff coming from Alex, whose eyes are fixated on him with amusement. You and Steve are faring well and scoring better than your counterparts, but every time you go to celebrate, the interaction falls flat - one going in for a hug while the other sticks two hands up for a high five, the next time going to the high five while the other jabs their fist in the air awkwardly.
Alex slinks over towards Robin and whispers, “This…is fuckin painful.”
Over the crack of falling pins and music on the jukebox, Alex shouts over to you, “So how exactly do you know Steve?”
“Oh, yeah…honestly, we just ran into each other a few times. All very random really. Saw him first at the record store when he was getting his first vinyls. I was there picking up my new copy of the Pearl Jam one…I guess I kind of made the suggestion he try it out himself.”
Robin flits her eyes from Steve to you, now wholly making the connection on why Steve’s probably constantly playing "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" late at night. Steve sees her gears turning and he tries to signal for her to drop it, but in true Robin fashion….she won't.
“So wait, that’s how you met her?” she jabs her thumb in your direction while shouting at Steve.
“W-well, yeah I guess technically. I didn’t really even know your name until the cab thing like…a month later.” he says casually, directed at you even though it was Robin who asked the question.
Looking at Robin’s blank stare, you fill in the blanks for her when Steve doesn’t continue. “Yeah. Well…Steve kind of knight-in-shining-armored me from a bad date one night. I recognized him from our run ins, but we still didn’t actually know each other at all, but he caught me at the tail end of probably the absolute worst date of the year. Dude made me pay for everything and left me to find a cab myself and I was just a fuckin mess standing there on the sidewalk trying to count my change after paying for dinner.”
“Oh, yes…Stevie loves to be the hero. Dontcha?” Robin pokes at his shoulder.
“Well yeah, he really was. I definitely didn’t have enough cash for the cab so we shared one and had our first proper conversation, bitched about how awful first dates are - or dating in general, right? God it’s been the worst.” your words trail off as your brain is clearly rolodexing through all of the failures and wasted nights you’ve collected.
Smiling at Steve as you say it, “We just kinda keep running into one another, so we’re just embracing it!” Steve nods in agreement, tight lipped smile pulling up on the left side, oddly quiet as he listens to you recount how you’ve found yourself here in his circle.
“Hmm…cute.” Robin says, a little over exaggerated, as she unties the frayed shoelaces of her bowling shoes and walks up to the counter to return them.
At the counter, Robin stands leaned over while Alex slips her hand in the back pocket of her wide leg denim. You and your teammate for the evening fall in line next to one another behind them, shoulder to shoulder again, looking over at one another, waiting to see who will talk first.
“We really whooped their ass, didn’t we?”
“Thanks for having me around today.”
You both spill out at the same time. Both agreeing with a nod and a smile, eyes locked together just as Alex and Robin turn around to face you and move out of your way. “You’re up, Romeo.” She winks as she reaches out to grab Alex’s outstretched hand and head towards the door. Steve watches as they tumble out of the entrance and the door closes behind them, the pair illuminated through the glass by the lights on the city street as his friend leans in to kiss her girlfriend, like some perfectly lit scene out of a movie.
This all started because Steve tied the stem of the cherry from his Old Fashioned and set it casually next to his coaster in the bar. Gasps of "How didn't I know you could do that?" from Robin.
“Wow. Wow. Honestly. Who knew Steve was such a Cunnilinguist over here? Fluent in Mumbling in the Moss.” Robin’s teasing, but her jaw is just about on the bar and she’s fighting back the impressed look she has on her face. “Let me get my notebook out. I gotta take notes…please, please don’t stop on account of me. Continue….” Robin gestures at Steve in a bow like he’s a fuckin member of the Royal Court of Pussyeaters, taunting him with wide sarcastic eyes and a glint of actual curiosity he can clock from a mile away.
“Robin, YOU have even said it yourself.”
“Oh yes, how could I ever forget the sounds Melissa from upstairs made on our first weekend here? Right. Sorry. Blocked that out of my memory bank shortly after it happened.”
The thing about Robin is, this city has made her feral for new things and new information. Probably something to do with the fact that she can actually live like she wants to more openly, that there’s less judgment or even a community. Maybe it's a lot to do with the fact that the girl who used to cringe at the word boobies is hawking condoms, crotchless panties and sex toys for a living and learning about her sexuality in real-time, but Robin has turned into a sexual sponge. She’s shy about something until she’s not. Zero to sixty in ten seconds flat. She sees it once, asks a few curious and direct questions and suddenly she’s ready to rock and roll.
Over the past few months, Steve has watched her boundaries literally crumble at her feet. The first time it happened, early in the summer when they first got the job, he found himself sweeping the same spot in the front of the store for twenty minutes straight. He was completely distracted when Robin went on and on extremely enthusiastically about Ben Wa balls to a customer.
At first he was lingering because the girl was pretty - shiny hair grazing the tops of her shoulders, sunkissed and peeking out of her tank top, glittering gems dangling from her ears. He was admiring the girl, until he heard Robin talking about those balls like she knew what she was doing. He hadn’t thought about those since he had that stupid sandwich shop slip up, but apparently since then, Robin has become a goddamn connoisseur. He almost dropped the broom when she gave the girl some of her favorite personal tips to enjoy them as she checked her out.
Since then, Steve can’t even count on one hand how many times he’s had to hear Robin talking people’s ears off about fuckin Ben Wa balls. She’s like a Ben Wa sales person every night at the bar, yapping anyone’s ear off about them, talking about no less casually than like it’s talking about how you take your coffee. Just rambling on about how if you slip them in before your date, it pays off at the end of the night, or how if you add a little vibration they go wild. If she didn’t already work at a Sex Shop, he’d tell her to get a job at one with how she’s acting. Steve’s no prude, God no… but he doesn’t think he’s ever going to get used to his Robin talking about what she sticks up her vagina like that.
So now, here they all sit, at the corner of the bar at Benny’s, and she’s trying so hard not to look like she’s desperate for a lesson, but Steve knows. He knows she’s trying so hard to get information. So she can deliver. She won't ever do something unless she's sure she'll be good at it. She won’t say it out loud, but she wants to return the favor and she’s terrified she’s gonna do it wrong or be awful at it. He knows all of this just by looking at her body language and the look in her eyes. And shit, it makes him cringe thinking about it, but when Hopper leans over the bar and says “I don’t think he’s really that good if he’s not gonna spill the beans? Pretty face like that has probably never been sat on in his life.” he’s all in. He’s not one to back down from a challenge. Stubborn as ever.
“Well…You’re not exactly wrong about that. Not for nothing, though…I tried. I swear. Hawkins, Indiana is not filled with adventurous girls that are willing to do that.”
“Wait…who did you ask to sit on your face, Harrington? Do I even wanna know?”
“Don’t worry about it Robbie.” He waves her off. “It doesn’t matter anyway. No one took the bait so I stopped asking. Plus, most of those girls didn’t even want me to do any of it in the first place - I mean, after some convincing a few of them changed their opinion afterwards but still...”
“So…wait. You didn’t spend all your years as King Steve feasting on clams? That makes no sense? How can you even self-proclaim you’re soooo great at it if you don’t have that much practice?”
“First of all, I did just fine thanks, and secondly it’s not about practice, Rob. I’m a fuckin natural” Steve grins wide like a cheshire cat around the rim of his glass as he throws back a sip, knowing his comment will send her into a tizzy.
“Oh you’re just disgusting Steve Harrington. So fucking smug about everything.” As she rambles on, Steve lets her go, barely noticing that he’s not paying any mind to her, and he asks Joyce if he can have the jar of cherries behind the bar. Joyce smiles at him and winks, before sliding the glass container down the bar to him, catching it in his hand and wiggling it in Robin’s face.
“You wanna learn from the best, Buckley?”
He hands his friend a cherry and asks her to tie the stem and the first one took her 18 minutes. She’s awful at multitasking, so while he’s trying to fill the time with tips - about how she shouldn’t dive right in. “You gotta play around a little. Show the girls some attention, work your way up her thighs… don’t just stick your face in it. Got it?” She doesn’t. She’s got her brows furrowed and one eye squinted shut as she’s exaggeratedly moving the cherry stem around her mouth by jabbing her tongue every which way.
He rolls his eyes and holds his hand out in front of her mouth and tells her to spit it out, like a small child who got in the candy bowl and has to give up her treat after being scolded. The next hour goes by with Steve trying so hard to be a patient teacher.
He starts from the beginning, making sure she doesn’t skip over his first lesson: Approach but do not enter. He tells her about how no matter how bad she wants to, she can not under any circumstances make full and direct contact. "If you use your tongue like you just did with that fuckin cherry stem you're gonna scare her, okay Jabby"
In an almost reverent and detailed narrative he continues on telling tales of kisses up ankles and legs and warm breaths against their entrance. Teasing and touching and tounging through wet panties. Featherlight touches and sucking purple marks along the juncture of thighs. At this point, Hopper is leaned over his bar looking on like a little kid hearing about knights and dragons in a bedtime story. He needs a napkin to wipe up his drool after listening to the pussy poetry coming off of Steve Harrington’s lips.
Steve dangles out Cherry #2 for Robin to snag with her lips before moving on to his second lesson: Start slow. Robin has her mouth open catching flies, cherry stem just resting between her teeth as Steve goes on to explain how she should kitten lick just around everything she has to offer, then in. Gentle strokes exploring what’s there, tongue flat, loose, gentle. Circling the clit, running it along all of the places in between. “Opening up the flower,” he says. Bonus points if you make noise while you do it, tell her she looks pretty he says and Robin nods in understanding.
Palm extended again, Steve nods as the stem falls into it, telling Robin “Nice. You’re getting there. This’ll be important soon.”
Cherry #3. Take a break. He looks her dead in the eyes when he says “You gotta take a break here, Robbie. Don’t do that thing you do about every other thing in the world. Where you’re all in and super focused and too excited and you forget the steps. BACK OFF. Do the thigh thing again, just less is more for a minute here��.You hear me? Now gimme that stem.”
Robin pulls the stem out of her mouth, holding it up to her eyeline and sees her knot is tighter this time and she's done it quicker. Much quicker than before. She grins “Got it! Got it! Am I doing good?”
Steve smiles at her, and pops a cherry into his mouth, handing one off to his friend and grinning like a devil as he hands one to Hopper, too. Both take the offering, despite Hopper acting way too cool about it, he plays along. Cherry #4. Dive in. Swirl, slide and suck. Alternate until you figure out what works for her. Listen for the sounds, the breaths. Pick up speed. "Lay that tongue flat again and lick her up from back to front, because she's gonna taste like heaven." Robin nods as he tells her to add a finger or two if she wants it but keep playing with that clit, rolling and rubbing and maybe even some flicking just like that cherry stem.
All three of them pull their stems out, candied cherries already warm in Robin and Hoppers bellies so they could focus on the stem. Steve, however, pulls out his stem to show off the tight knot and sticks out his tongue with the cherry still there, untouched and carefully maneuvered out of the way of the action the whole time. He makes a show of swirling around the cherry, undulating his tongue with a smirk turned up on the corner of his lips before popping the red orb between his teeth and crushing it with a grin.
“Okay, fine. You sound like you know what you’re doing Harrington…that…yeah…thanks for that.” Hopper says as he walks away, turning his stem between his fingers, a little too deep in thought and mulling over Steve’s words as he serves up the other patrons of the bar.
Stirring the ice of her now empty glass, she eyes her friend. Still processing that he gave her such a detailed lesson so she can effectively eat out her girlfriend for the first time, not to mention the fact that listening to Steve Harrington talk about worshiping a woman like that kinda turned her on, it takes her a minute to finally break her silence.
She looks away from Steve before starting in on one of her tried and true rambles. “I gotta repay you for that weirdly effective tutorial. Just maybe one nugget of information. I mean, I may have never been the giver, but consider me a receiver? A tight end? I dunno I was trying to give you a sports analogy because you’re a jock. Were a jock…or whatever. Anyway. Girls…they don’t agree to sit on your face, man, and it's not because they don’t want it. They want it. It’s just, like, REALLY embarrassing.”
Steve looks at her confused. “What do you mean embarrassing?”
“Like, 100% of us think we’re too big or not good enough. And being like that is a little intimidating. Even my skinny ass thinks I’ll crush a girl if I do it. “
“Too big? - oh.” It takes some time for Steve to understand, never having to deal with any type of insecurity like that ever before it never even crossed his mind that it has anything to do with themselves or their bodies. He always thought they just thought he was a weirdo for asking and making things complicated. He assumed they didn’t have time for any theatrics and just wanted to come and maybe sign up for a second date.
Robin sees the wheels turning and the gears grinding in his head, and she knows this means he understands but is too engrossed in his analysis of the actual injustice of it all to speak words. “So, maybe approach it differently? Or find a chick who is just so fuckin confident she doesn’t give a fuck. But let me tell you one thing…it pains me to say this. Truly it does, but your nose…is MADE for it.”
“My nose?” his face contorts in a confused glare she knows all too well.
“Oh baby, yeah…that nose is made for pushing a clit around.”
“ROBIN!” Steve pushes his chair back, feet squeaking along the roughed up floor of the bar, as he walks over to the jukebox and leans over it, grumbling yet again about how she always takes it one step too far.
“You’ll thank me one day, handsome! You’re not the only one that has information to share, you know?”
Steve has never seen Robin like this before. He’s not sure what to do with the information his eyes are transmitting to his brain in this moment, so he just stands there unmoving. “Uh hello? Dingus? What’s the deal?”
Robin has exited her room in those stupid fucking red boots that she now is insisting are comfortable and fully broken in, but the fishnet stockings that follow her skin up her legs are not the first thing that make Steve do a double take. A white baby t-shirt sits under the spaghetti straps of a lacey, silky black slip dress, a cut up to the thigh that she may have put there herself. A chunky, more masculine belt looped around her waist - wait…is that from his closet, he thinks to himself.
“Please stop looking at me like I’m an idiot. I look dumb, don’t I? Of course I do. I gotta change.”
The only other time Robin has found herself in anything other than pants was that one goddamn time Nancy Wheeler dressed her up like a China Doll to trick that fancy psychiatrist guy, and that’s a memory she’s tried hard to suppress.But there are no frilly socks and poofy white collars on this dress. No stuffy cardigan. And even though she never thought of herself as particularly feminine, today for the first time in her life she feels it.
“No! No Robbie, you look … great. I - I’ve just never seen you in like…anything like that. It’s…super fuckin’ cool okay? Like magazine cool. Like not friends with Steve Harrington cool.” he shakes his head as he throws some popcorn into his mouth. “Alex is gonna fuckin’ lose it. You gonna remember what I taught you at Benny’s? Tonight is your night, my friend, because she will not say no to you in that. For sure.”
“You think I’m gonna dine on the Adult Happy Meal tonight?” She says in a sly, teasing tone, knowing just her sexual euphemism will get Steve rolling his eyes and irritated with her in no time.
“Y’know what, I was trying to pump you up. Tell you you did good…but fine. Be that way.”
And she hated, just hated to admit it, but Steve was right. Alex loved it. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Robin’s thighs all night. Her fingers lingered at Robin’s waist and along that belt anytime she was within reach and Robin’s skin tingled with anticipation. She felt possessed by Alex. On a short leash. And as the music thumped in her chest, she felt the dull aching throb building between her thighs at the same time.
So it was no surprise when the two of them pummeled through Alex’s studio apartment door backwards, not taking their lips of one another with enough time to pay any attention to where they were going or what they were running into. Robin’s were slick with spit, cherry gloss and the smudges of the deep plum lipstick rubbed right off of Alex’s own plump lips.
“This..” Alex picks at the straps of Robin’s slip dress. “This is nice.” She almost growls out, finger hooked under the thin piece of fabric, tugging Robin with her until they hit the edge of the bed.
“I don’t think I told you how hot you looked tonight. It’s fuckin bananas.” Alex’s lips pepper kisses up the column of Robin’s neck leaving streaks of whatever pigment remained on her lips rubbed off like a trail of smoke, fanning the fire deep within both of them.
Alex’s nose is pressed up and into Robin’s temple, lips parted and breathy and tickling her ear. Tits smushed and pressed together the closest they could possibly be and Alex’s hand wastes no time slithering right into that opening left there by the makeshift slit cut into the side of the satin, up along her pelvis tugging the pesky fishnets out of the way and diving right back down into the hot wetness pooling in Robins’ underwear.
“Oh, honey. Robin…so wet already?” Her fingers smooth back and front again, swirling around Robin’s clit and sliding right inside on the backswing. Robin chokes out a breathy moan, pouty lips gaping open, eyes rolling back and long eyelashes fluttering in the air like the wings of a butterfly. Alex slides those fingers back and forth, back and forth until Robin looks back at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her away just enough to look into her eyes. Alex doesn’t let up her motions, two fingers loudly moving through everything Robin is giving her.
Robin reaches down towards the bed and takes Alex by surprise when she picks up one of her fluffy white pillows and pummels it at Alex’s head. “Ow, what the fuck!” Alex shouts. She looks at Robin, corners of her lips turning up into a mischievous smile, fingers curling up into the sky as she shrugs her shoulders teasingly. Alex’s face melts quickly into one of laughter - but only temporarily before she reaches for her own pillow and wails on Robin, smacking her right in the shoulder.
Pillows are flying, both girls are laughing so much their tummies are starting to hurt. Fluff and feathers from the pillows are starting to puff out and flutter through the air. Robin lands a particularly good blow on Alex’s upper body that has her falling backwards into the bed laughing, and it’s in this moment Robin finds herself giggling, perched right on top of her girlfriend’s body.
She wanted this to happen. Really she did. That was the point. She’s come a long way but Robin is still too chickenshit to ask for what she wants in bed. She’s definitely too chickenshit to take charge. So as she lays here, leaning over Alex, pillows around them, blankets and comforters scrunched up along their sides in a sea of white linen, Robin leans down and connects her lips to Alex’s in the most possessive kiss she knows how to muster up. She spent all night feeling like she was on Alex’s leash, but for fucks sake, she wants to take a little too.
She’s always a little frantic, but this? She’s tugging Alex’s shirt out from where it’s tucked into the pleated trousers hanging low on her hips tonight faster than she can blink. Her bumbling fingers are trying to find the confidence to be smooth about pushing her shirt up and up and up, but instead it’s just hurriedly shoved up far enough for Robin to get a little bit of access to her breasts. She slows down a bit just enough to savor how her fingers slide under the band of Alex’s bralette and brush over both of her nipples at the same time.
God, Robin is losing her mind and she’s quickly going to get in her head if she doesn’t follow through. She knows that the second she lets her intrusive thoughts spiral, she’s going to be too worried about doing it wrong, or not being good enough that she’ll just run back home to Steve like a kicked puppy. So she takes a big breath - one that could be confused with someone diving down to the bottom of a summer swimming pool. Alex’s head pops up off the bed and is momentarily confused, but she falls right back into the mountain of pillows as she feels Robin’s hands extend, pressing her tits up and back into the mattress just as Robin’s nose starts to trail down, down towards her belly button.
Kissing the softness of her girl's tummy, Robin tries hard to remember that this is not a test, before she keeps mouthing at the dough of her hips, dragging the waistband of her pants further and further down. Alex’s hipbone, popping out just for a peek, gets a small kiss from Robin before she swoops her finger down and into her trousers following the seam of her thighs.
“Rob…Robin…what are you - oh fuck!” She cries out as she feels Robin’s blunt fingernails run up through her slit and back up, starting to fumble with the button. “Robin, what are you doing?”
Alex has felt great during this relationship, yeah she’s more of the giver, but there’s been plenty of grinding and sucking on nipples and self pleasure that have brought her to climax while the two of them have fooled around on couches and over the paper thin walls in their apartment as Steve sleeps next door. She’s been patient and attentive to Robin, knowing she’s still learning and exploring and not expecting her to do more than she’s comfortable with. But tonight she’s getting the distinct idea that Robin wants something a little different.
“Rob, you don’t have to …just…lemme take care of it”
“NO. Alex. Stop it. I…I wanna try something. Okay? Please?”
“Oh-okay, sure. But just stop if it’s too much for you. I promise, I don’t need you to fingerfuck me tonight if you don’t really wanna go there yet.” Alex is talking while Robin ignores her, working the pants loose and starting to wiggle them down and over her wide and pretty hips.
“Alex. Please. Shut up. I’m usually the one talking too much, but this time it’s you.” She connects her lips to whatever places she can reach on her stomach before looking back up at Alex, eyes wide and big and doe-like “And …I don’t want ot finger fuck you.”
With absolutely no notice after that, Robin’s head ducks down and quickly finds itself between Alex’s thighs, shoving the pants legs down as far as she can go while she runs her nose up along the edge of Alex’s deep purple panties. She hums loud enough for Alex to hear her and that alone has Alex’s eyes fluttering shut in anticipation.
Robin starts with small nips and licks along the inside of Alex’s thighs and remembers specifically that a few good, deep licks over the panties might be a nice place to go next. It’s safe for her underneath a layer of protection - mostly for her ego. It’s like the mental boundary she has still standing before she takes her first real lick. But with a deep breath and a smile she quite literally can’t hold back, Robin flattens her tongue and runs it right up the center of Alex’s panties, flicking her tongue when she gets right where she knows her clit is hiding under that cotton.
Alex’s hands jolt towards the bedsheets at the unexpected fervor on Robin’s tongue and the girl keeps exploring all around the exposed skin before taking the front of her underwear on her tongue, wrapping her lips around it and sucking, lapping, drooling right where she knows that clit is hiding from her. Alex is moaning and groaning under Robin and the sound is music to her ears - a symphony of praises like Robin has never quite heard before. She wants more. Needs more.
Tugging down the sides of Alex’s underwear she rips them off and throws them on the floor behind her and stares down at what lays before her. Alex, bared to her, legs splayed out to each side. She can’t help but admire the pink shades of her lips and the perfect curls of the hair adorned there. She runs her fingers along the sides of her pelvis, tickling the pads of her fingers with the roughness of where her trimmed bush is growing in just a bit. Robin is pretty sure this is how a dog with a bone behaves, but she couldn’t care less.
Next, she does something that even surprises herself. Rolling her tongue through her mouth, she gathers a glob of spit and lets it fall right on top of Alex’s clit, holding the hood back as the coolness hits her bundle of nerves. Robin blows gently on the wet skin, a small thread of saliva still clinging to her cupid's bow and Alex can not tear her eyes away from what is happening between her legs.
Robin dips her head down and rolls her tongue, front to back, side to side before letting her lips wrap around her clit and suck. As she continues, flicking and flitting and moaning into Alex’s cunt, she lets her fingers wander up until she can feel the heat of her girlfriends arousal on her fingertips. She looks up at her and asks “Can I…can I put these in, too? Do you want more?”
“Jesus Christ, Robin” she gasps, “You’re trying to kill me right? Holy shit. Yes. I need more.”
Sliding her middle finger into her first, then second knuckle, just to test the waters, she’s quickly overcome with how soft and warm she feels in her hands. “Oh Alex, you feel so fuckin good.” She works that finger in further before sliding it out and adding in her ring finger, too. No resistance, only the slick sounds of Alex’s arousal and Robin's fingers working her up better than she knew was possible.
Thanking god she knows how to play a brass instrument, knowing damn well her fingers and her mouth know how to multitask and move in tandem, she starts thinking about this orchestra between her girlfriends legs. Moving those fingers, not letting up with the beat and tempo she set for herself, she bends down to connect her soft lips back on Alex’s, lapping around the place she feels her fingers slipping in and out, licking along the edge of where her lips end and Robin’s fingers begin. Feeling the plunging and sucking around them as her pussy clenches around Robin’s fingers.
“Ohhh fuck. Robin, goo-good girl, Rob. Feels so good.”
Robin feels her own pussy clench around absolutely nothing at Alex’s raise. Pulling out her fingers, Alex cries at the loss, but she quickly moans louder than Robin’s ever heard before as she replaces that emptiness with her tongue. Shoving it inside, curing upwards and soothing that ache with the warmth of her tongue. She remembers how she rolled and sucked on that cherry, and repeats those movements until she feels a wetness, a creaminess that makes her moan out loudly herself. The vibrations from Robin’s moaning are doubling down on the orgasm crashing through Alex’s body and with a yelp and a groan and a giggle, Robin has her head laying across Alex’s sweat slicked chest, staring up at her waiting. For approval? For literally anything.
“Jesus, Robin that was….that was some top shelf shit. Wh-what…how? I mean, I’m not complaining but I was not expecting that.”
“It was fuckin’ hot wasn’t it?” she muses with a laugh.
“Lord help me, I…think you owe some thanks to Steve for all that, actually” she says painfully through her teeth.
“No fuckin’ shit! My man!”
A scoff comes right out of Robin’s mouth, unable to hold it back.
“Maybe if he uses some of that magic pussy eating technique on whats-her-name she’ll be just as obsessed with him as he is with her.”
“RIGHT?”
The windows of the house are actually rattling, filled to the brim with young bodies living in downtown Chicago neighborhoods - friends and strangers alike. Robin and Steve stand outside waiting to enter, looking at Alex for the go-ahead. “I don’t really actually know the guys, it’s just….I mean it doesn’t fuckin matter. Look at this party.” she gestures up to the house, lights flashing from behind the curtains in the windows. “We just gotta wait another minute or two. I’m meeting someone else…”
“Someone else? Who else is coming?” Robin’s volume starts off loud and starts to fade into a smirk as she catches a glimpse of you approaching the group on the sidewalk.
“Hey guys! Thanks Alex, I’m so glad I ran into you earlier!”
You clock the look Robin flashes at Steve and you almost feel slightly unwelcome if it weren’t for Alex, grabbing you by the crook of your elbow and pulling you forward into the house party, the duo still trailing behind trying to process what exactly is going on and why.
Robin jogs up to Alex’s side as they take the steps of the house two by two as they approach the door and leans in “What are you doing? When did this happen?”
Once through the threshold of the house, the loud music and shouting voices muffled their conversation with ease. “Oh whatever… listen, I ran into her at the coffee shop. Said after she went there with Steve that one time, she liked their Cappuccino so she’s been going back ever since. It was my chance to invite her out…maybe give them a nudge. I swear, I owe the guy after all that lip service last night.”
“You’re trouble, you know that? He thinks I’m trouble…but…”
“Maybe we're trouble together. Let’s go.”
Alex grabs Robin’s hand and trots off to the back of the house in search of a few drinks, trying desperately to lose both of you behind them and force you into close proximity.
As planned, Steve can’t find the pair anywhere in a matter of seconds, searching over the heads and raised drinks of strangers on the living room, repurposed as a dance floor, it quickly becomes futile. In the loud atmosphere, The Rolling Stones Start Me Up blaring from the speakers, he turns to you, unable to get a word in and get you to move forward with him in search of a drink, he tugs at the collar of your blush pink jacket - one that makes him smirk because he recognizes the ribbed collar and button clasp of the zipper jacket. Looking just like his own matching gray one, shoved in the back of his dresser lately in an effort to try and hide it better from Robin.
An hour or so passes and Steve still hasn’t found Robin, not without trying because his eyes are constantly scanning the crowd, like a lifeguard scanning the water keeping children safe. She’s fine. It’s not my problem to babysit her, he thinks. She’s got Alex.
He’s still with you, leaning against the wall and watching as you dance along to every song that plays for the crowd. Right now, he’s got his eyes glued to your hips as you move along to Owner of a Lonely Heart and sip your lukewarm beer.
You occasionally speak to him, but fuck if he actually has heard a thing you said. You haven’t stopped moving along to the music. It’s warm inside, so he’s holding your jacket now, while he sees the sweat dripping down the nape of your neck. Following it as it drips down and around the column of your throat.
He clears his before he lets himself watch it go any lower, over your clavicle and jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Refill?” he asks, and you nod as the crowd chants out CAN'T TOUCH THIS, jumping in unison and making the floor shake.
Armed with your fresh drink, you find yourself following Steve down the steps of the basement, concrete walls and dusty corners, a basement not meant to be inhabited but perfect for a late night party full of friends and strangers for whoever actually lives here. The pair of you plop down on a dingy sofa, rifling through your purse you pull out a black package and slide a slim black cigarette out if it’s case. He looks at you quizzically as you light it up, the warm and spicy smell of your Djarum Blacks filling the air around you.
“A clove.” you exhale. “A clove cigarette? You want?” you pull one more drag off the cigarette and pass it off to Steve, who studies it before placing the filter to his lips. Pulling a drag, feeling something like cinnamon crackle through his lungs, his brain is fixated on how your lips were just right here where his are now.
“Whoa, that's…different.” He coughs out. “I like it, though. It feels…like…cozy? Does that make sense?”
Taking another drag and blowing out his smoke in one smooth motion this time, he hands it back over to you. Nodding and looking one another over as you pass the clove back and forth for a few minutes in comfortable silence, you’re broken out of your little bubble by the sound of cheating and squealing from the other side of the basement. A squeal that is unmistakably Robin.
The thump of the base echos against the damp and dirty cinder block walls and you and Steve turn the corner to see Robin, perched on top of an old wooden table, swaying and dancing, tank top straps falling off her shoulder as she sways to the beat
Rhythm is a dancer. It's a soul's companion. You can feel it everywhere.
Robin is clearly shitfaced, as she falls to her knees and gyrates on top of the table, you hear Steve groan and he runs his hands through his hair before he goes to step forward. Putting your hand on his shoulder to stop him, he looks back at you confused. “She’s got it.” you gesture to Alex, who's standing there looking mildly concerned, while also letting her pretty girl have some fun.
His protective nature is more evident than ever right now, and it warms you to see it. You’ve only ever really witnessed the snarky jabs and biting remarks that seem to be what their friendship is built on. The concern and softness on his face here is different. Maybe it’s not so much that he wants to be the hero - you remember Robin’s remark the other day at the bowling alley. Maybe he just…cares.
The crowd around the table is cheering and egging Robin on the entire time, only shouting louder as EMF’s Unbelievable switches on, causing Robin to lose her footing. Shaken up, she reaches for Alex, a dazed look in her eye, while her girlfriend throws her arm over her shoulder and they head towards the stairs. “I’m taking her home. She’s a damn mess. A cute one, but a mess.” Alex says to Steve as she passes him on her way up the stairs.
You and Steve trail behind, Robin’s lolling head looking like a ragdoll thrown over Alex’s back. “You sure you don’t need my help?” Steve asks.
“I got it pretty boy. Just…do a welfare check on my girl in the morning. I swear if she wakes up in a pile of her own vomit though - that's on her.”
And just like that, you find yourself the recipient of Steve’s care and concern, as he looks at you on the corner of a quiet midnight street. “Gotta get you home safe too. C’mon.” Holding open your jacket for you - the one you almost forgot he’s been holding for you this whole time - you step inside. He wraps it gently around your shoulders, fingers lingering a bit softly just before he notices and gives you an awkward pat on them instead.
“Are we walking, or are you gonna make me get you a cab again?” he teases.
You roll your eyes as you start walking away. “My place isn’t far. Just this way. Y’gonna make sure I get there okay?”
Nursing hangovers and sore bodies the next morning, the pair have their feet sprawled out across their respective couches, curtains drawn tight keeping out the golden October sunlight, hoodies tied up around their heads keeping the noise out and the light dim. Robin gnaws on a bagel, untoasted, uncut just straight from the bag like a heathen while she is mumbling about what she and Alex have been up to lately.
Steve’s head is hurting, but he really is happy to hear how supportive Alex is of Robin and all the cool things they are doing. He wants to hear more about it even though it feels like her voice is driving one hundred screws directly into his brain stem, so he tips back his bottle of water and tries to focus in.
“We went to this sick basement venue the other night - the music scene there was so cool. You might have liked it Steve. I hear that vinyl collection you have spinning. I have to say, I’m impressed with your blossoming musical taste.”
Just then, he’s hit with a chunk of bagel right on his forehead. Begrudgingly he lets the hunger win out, and takes a bite, needing something to sop up the hangover but too lazy to go down to the corner store for a proper greasy breakfast sandwich.
“Might that have anything to do with a pretty lady who teaches at the University? Hmmm?”
He can already tell Robin wants to lecture him. He doesn’t want to hear it. He knows what she's going to say, and maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he knows what she’s going to say because it’s not really that wrong, and he just doesn’t want to admit any of it or unpack any of it. Why do that when it’s going to blow up in his face anyway? What’s the point in getting his hopes up if he can just play it cool and casual and make like he’s not phased by it when it inevitably doesn’t work out.
Steve already had his head running through this himself. The facts are, you are not a stupid girl and you’re not rolling around the city looking to settle down with some schmuck who juggles dildos at his day job. That’s pretty clear. That date that blew up in your face? That was at a nice restaurant. It was a serious date - or at least it should have been. Steve’s a 26 year old boy running around the city like it’s a playground trying to find himself and you’re an almost 30 year old woman with a career and a personality who is just way out of his league.
“Robin, it’s… complicated.”
“No, no. I’m not seeing what exactly is complicated about it. She’s so COOL. Steve - this is exactly what you need. I don’t know why you will constantly throw yourself like a hotdog down a hallway at anything else that looks at you for a second, but these ones that are good for you. …ACTUALLY good for you, you pretend like it’s a pipe dream?”
With that, they are both startled at the bell yelling out from the phone on the wall, neither expecting a phone call this time. They both look at one another before Robin sighs, pushing herself to stand and clicking the buttons of her Tamagotchi on her leisurely walk over to the receiver. Picking up the phone and laying the handpiece on her shoulder, she continues her focus on caring for her beeping blob, dead set on winning this round before Steve watches her face go white as a ghost.
Her eyes are boring into his, he’s mouthing What’s wrong and he gets nothing in response. His anxiety is swirling in his chest. It’s the kids isn’t it? He can’t help but immediately think that they are in imminent danger. He’s up and walking over, mentally ready to pack a bag and start the drive home before Robin silently hands the phone out to him.
“It’s for you.” she says, stone faced and looking at him with pitiful eyes.
Steve answers, a serious and curt hello into the phone when a familiar voice rolls out of the earpiece that makes him freeze.
“Son… Can you please explain to me why someone would be telling me these astronomical stories about you - a Harrington - working at a Pornographic Store?”
Shit.
TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss @scoopshxrrington
#joe keery#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#robin buckley#sexshop!steve#sexshop!robin#platonic stobin#stobin fanfic#platonic soulmates stobin#stobin friendship#codependent stobin#steve x reader#steve harrington fanfiction#Steve Harrington x you#robin buckley fanfic#robin buckley imagine#robin buckley smut#steve and robin get a job#steve and robin fanfic
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Week in Review: Nov. 26 | The Week Esquire Broke My Brain...Again
This week was one to give thanks for so many things - my family, my friends, my little corner of Tumblr … and the team at Esquire (we’ll get to that). I also realized this week I reached another milestone on here and while I don’t like to harp on the numbers, it really continues to floor me that anyone reads anything of mine. So I want to say thank you. I’ll spare you another sappy rambling post, but it has meant a lot to me to be here.
With that being said, I wanted to do something fun to say thank you, but I can’t think of anything! What do others do? I’m looking around at a few ask games, but if you have one you really like, send it my way! That’s probably what I have the capacity for at the moment - because I really need to get some chapters out.
Fics I read this week:
This week I spent some time in the car, which allowed me to read a bit more than usual. Be sure to take a look at the warnings and summaries for all of my recs, just because I like it doesn’t mean everyone will.
Frankie Morales
Candy Cane by @cerridwen007 - Frankie and reader have some fun with a candy cane. Also, Frankie is still the 😺 👑
My Way by @goodwithcheese - Megan’s Frankie always does something to me and this was no exception.
Javier Peña
Snowed In - Javier's version by @avastrasposts This one-shot was 🔥 the OFC took charge and held her own against our favorite DEA agent!
Joel Miller
Gun Cleaning by @avastrasposts - A little smutty one-shot that was oh so hot!
Dieter Bravo
Back Alley Bang by @morallyinept I really have no words for this one, just thots.
Tim Rockford
Hold Tight by @sin-djarin Tim Rockford and holsters. That's all. Oh and a brilliant use of repetition!
Pause by @trulybetty I am really in my Tim era and this was 🔥 I want to know more about this couple and I really enjoy their dynamic.
Undercover by @secretelephanttattoo New series alert! I'm already hooked from the first chapter!
Marcus Pike
White Wine by @something-tofightfor Marcus is just the most thoughtful, ugh I love this man.
Ezra
Hue by @goodwithcheese - I don’t read a lot of Ezra compared to some of the other Pedro boys, but my goodness this was amazing. It was sweet and comforting, but Ezra is also a bit of a menace.
Current Compulsory Series:
I Like the Way You (Frankie) by @undercoverpena
These are the series I am keeping up with at the moment.
Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie) by @linzels-blog
Destiny & Deliverance (Dieter) by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings
Paranoid Heat (Javi P) by @goodwithcheese
It’s Never Too Late (Javi P) by @javierpena-inatacvest I finally caught up!!
OTHER CHARACTERS
Benny Miller / Mitch Keller
La Primera Fiesta by @marvelousmermaid Benny attends a family party for his girlfriend's family. I related to this so much as a Latina who married a tall, lanky white guy 😆 this was too cute and Benny was adorable.
Somebody's Someone by @dameronscopilot I finished Tulsa King this week and this was the first Mitch Keller story I came across and I loved it!
Pete Dunham
Like My Dreams by @laurfilijames I recently rewatched Green Street Hooligans - I feel like the last time I saw it I was in high school, maybe college, which was a while ago. Anyways, I loved Charlie Hunnam’s character Pete and I’m excited to check out Laur’s series.
Posts from the week:
The Pedro boys celebrated Thanksgiving with @morallyinept and things of course were chaotic but hilarious. This post from @pedrostories was so helpful as someone who consumes fanfic and attempts to write it as well!
In case you missed it, a fun writing challenge popped up that I think is pretty cool! Do I know what I’m writing yet? No. But an idea will come to me I’m sure.
Feral corner:
You know … every week I think, you know, this will be the week where I’m going to be chill and not a thirsty ass mess - ha sorry, I couldn’t finish that without laughing. I can’t help it, blame Pedro (but don’t blame him, we need to thank this man).
So, we’ve all seen the recent Esquire photos right?! The thots were thotting and I am still processing. Will you probably see me reblog this countless times over the next few weeks? Probably. Am I going to shoehorn this photoshoot into the Working Title universe?! Definitely.
Can we just acknowledge the duality of this man? How he just walk around being such a ray of sunshine and so adorable but then turn into an absolute menace?
Things I watched:
I spent most of the week away, but I did manage to start and finish Tulsa King, which I think is a pretty big feat. Garrett has a small role in it, but 🫠 I am here for it. I did manage to pay attention to the rest of the plot, shocking I know, and I really enjoyed this story.
Personal Stuff
Spent time traveling this week so I had a lot of car time and then family time. I went to Buc-ee’s, which is always a highlight of our road trips. If you haven’t been or know what it is, picture a gas station/convenience store/general store and then multiply that by 100. Is it a bit overwhelming and overstimulating? Yes. But I guess I’m a glutton for punishment because I have to go to one every time I pass by.
The holidays caused a bit of a blip in my health journey. I’m trying to reframe my thinking about it. My initial reaction would have been to write “ugh I was so bad this week and ate so many bad foods” but instead I’m just going to acknowledge that it was a holiday and indulged a bit. But a couple of days isn’t going to completely derail the last four weeks. This time of the year can be really tough when it comes to my relationship with food, but I’m trying to give myself some grace.
Fic updates:
I got a really fun ask about how the Triple Frontier boys would celebrate Thanksgiving. It was fun to think about the guys and yes, eventually we will get to Thanksgiving in Delta Landscaping.
I’ve gotten a couple of comments and messages about Working Title and Delta Landscaping and I promise I’m working on both (I think about them both at least once daily). I have a couple of PTO days in the next couple of weeks and I’m planning on dedicating some time to both so hopefully, I can get ahead and publish a bit more frequently.
Ok, I think that’s it for this week. I hope you have a great one. Drink water, get some sleep, and have some thots.
Masterlist
Working Title (Dieter, series, ongoing) | AO3
Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier, series, ongoing) | AO3
Turbulence (Frankie, one-shot) | AO3
Are You on Mute? (Benny Miller, one-shot) | AO3
Are You on Mute? Part Two
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A Sonny Disposition || Tim LaFlour x F!OC || Chapter 001
Synopsis: Sonny, a freshman at Stratford University, is a bubbly and hyper-feminine fashion design student all the way from Australia. She's excited to be on her own for the first time, but settling into independence is proving to be more complicated than she anticipated. Thankfully, fellow student, piercing-lover punk, and hockey ingenue Tim LaFlour lives in the same apartment building as her and is more than willing to lend a helping hand—even if they seem to be from completely separate worlds. What will they learn from each other? What will they have the patience to teach each other?
Genre/tags: Pure fluff, no smut. A friends-to-lovers slow burn romance with mutual pining. Imagine two golden retrievers crushing hard on each other p much!! Slight age difference, big size difference.
Word count: 1,850
A/N: My first fic in the Matt Lillard tag! My first fic on this blog! My first fic in a long, long time. And of course I couldn't help but start a new series. Aiming for this to be a novella/shorter chapter book. Hope y'all enjoy and please leave feedback if you have it!!
"Honestly, Auntie Steph, Uncle Benny—" I let out a grunt, hoisting a large suitcase and out of the back of their trunk— "Don't worry too much about me. I'll be fine, and I know who to call in case I need any help."
They followed behind me, with Auntie Steph carrying a large dress form and Uncle Benny pushing a dolly with the rest of my things. "We know, love. We're just one call away, and your Auntie Steph has some clients downtown," Uncle Benny addressed me from behind the pile of moving boxes atop the dolly as we walked into the apartment building.
"Right. I'm down here at least twice a week," Aunt Steph said. She was a consultant for an interior design firm, handling top-tier clients. Famous actresses, hockey players, the like. I held the door open as best as I could, practically squished between the door and the railing of the small staircase up to the apartment building.
I was a few days away from starting my freshman year at Stratford University in Toronto. I was a late registrant, so by the time I got accepted, there was no housing left in the freshman dorms. Instead, I was assigned to an apartment typically reserved for the upperclassmen. It was still maintained by the university, but I supposed I still had perks. Living with the older students probably meant a bit more freedom, not that I was planning on doing much besides schoolwork.
My aunt and uncle were just like my parents, worrywarts. Except, I could at least dodge my parents somewhat; I came all the way from Australia where I've lived for the last... well, my whole life. They were busy with work so all they could do was drop me off at the airport. Between then and about an hour ago, when I met up with my aunt and uncle at the airport, I traveled alone and enjoyed it. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, and I appreciate having people who cared about me a lot—but my goodness, could they be overbearing!
I was trying to hide my anxiousness to get rid of my aunt and uncle, but I wasn't so sure how well it was working. "I know. I've got you both on speed dial," I said, flashing them one of my signature megawatt smiles as we careened my things inside.
Like in the movies, students were bustling across the lobby, traversing its small space with ease. They looked grown up, if that makes sense. I felt intimidated, to say the least, and had half a mind to pay a visit to the chancellor's office or find someone else in charge to see if they could squeeze me into one of the freshman dorms. I would take an air duct if it was all they had.
My apartment was upstairs, at the very end of the hall on the third floor. The building seemed older, less well-kept and modern like the rest of the university. The dusty spiderwebs in the corners of the ceiling and the scratched linoleum in my room gave the whole place a nice charm, though. It was lived-in, and felt grown-up, too.
I could feel the excitement set in as Uncle Benny emptied the dolly. Eventually, they plopped onto the sunken-in, emerald green couch in the middle of the living room. I laughed, watching them take their exaggerated breaths. We were a theatrical bunch.
"Somehow, we did it," Auntie Steph said.
Uncle Benny checked his watch. "Alright, honey. It's almost lunch time. We'll get out of your hair so you can get something to eat. Remember what we said."
"Of course," I said, giving them hugs as they stood up from the couch. Real good hugs, too, like the ones I'd given my family right before I got on the plane. It was a bittersweet moment, one that marked the end of my phase as that little kid who played dress up with her Barbie dolls and the beginning of my new chapter as a fashion design student. "I love you both."
"We love you too," Aunt Steph said. "We'll send our wishes."
After they left, I was so exhausted from my long journey that I thought I'd better rest, too. With a deep breath, I landed on the couch—and heard a crack of wood underneath me. I sank a few inches.
===
"Thanks so much," I said while signing my name on a piece of paper. I looked up at the gentleman with a polite, expectant smile.
"Are ya sure you don't need our help carrying this up?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at me. Behind him, a small crew of movers were transporting my new couch into the lobby.
"Umm..." I sized the couch up and down. It was about the same size as my old one, with three cushions. Knowing my parents, they ordered me something a bit hefty so it would last longer, made of real wood and all. I had the upper body strength of a squirrel, probably, but I didn't want to look stupid in front of the movers. I was grown up, after all, doing big girl things now. Surely I could move a couch by myself. Giving them all a thumbs up, I said, "I should be able to handle it. Got some friends coming soon to help me."
"Alright," the gentleman filed my papers away and gave his crew a shrug before walking out. "Have a good day, miss."
It was just me and a couch in the lobby now. "Hmm." I circled it, feeling its plastic wrap. At least I wouldn't have to worry about the cushions flying off while I was carrying this thing. I glanced over at the elevator, which was much too small to fit the couch on (and it probably would've been over the weight limit). Then I looked up at the stairs.
Not realizing I was taking up the space in front of the main entryway to the building, I heard someone clear their throat behind me, startling me.
"Uh... need a hand?"
I didn't know where to look first, because it certainly wasn't his face. He was a tall guy, at least a foot taller than me, bleach blonde, and he wore these giant black combat boots, faded gray jeans that had more than a little distressing on them, and a cut-off t-shirt that said The Ramones on it. He had a cornucopia of piercings on his face. Their silver beads reflected under the fluorescent light. I'd never seen anyone like him before.
I was probably gawking, because a second later, he spoke again. "You okay?"
I picked my jaw up off the floor. "Yeah! Yeah, totally. I just, um..." I chuckled awkwardly, patting the top of the couch.
"Did you order this thing?"
"Yes, I did," I said confidently.
"You know, the apartments come with their own couches, right?" He couldn't hide his smile.
"Yeah," I said, not so confidently anymore. For a scary-looking guy, he had a big, friendly smile. It caught me off guard, just like the rest of him did. "Mine, um, broke."
Despite his smile, I thought he was going to chew me out and tell me to move. But he looked the couch up and down, and then looked at me at least up (my lower half was covered by the back of the couch) and said, "Right. Well, I'm cool with it being here but I don't know if the rest of the guys will be."
"Rest of the...?"
Before I knew it, a slew of boys—men? students?—flooded into the apartment building, vaulting over the couch and brushing past me to go upstairs. They were all the same size and stature as him and for a second there, I was worried I would get trampled, so I stayed completely still, scrunching my face.
They were all carrying duffel bags and hockey sticks, dressed in Stratford jerseys and sweatpants. I put two and two together. When the dust settled was around the same time I realized I could ask them to help me carry the couch up, but they were already gone by then. I looked over at the guy and we seemed to be on the same wavelength.
"Do you think I could—"
"Hey, do you need—"
We chuckled, realizing we talked over each other. He said, "I got you." Then, he hollered up, "Hey! Sammo! Bowman! Could use a hand."
They spawned from above, almost racing each other to the bottom of the steps. I couldn't help but laugh at how rowdy they were.
"Oh, we got a new couch for the spot, eh?" asked Sammo, whose name was on his jersey. Bowman splayed across the couch for a laugh before hopping back up.
"This is..." the blonde guy looked over at me, furrowing his brow.
"Sonny. I'm Sonny," I smiled.
"Tim, you caught yourself a girl from down undah?" Sammo teased.
The blonde, who I knew now as Tim, continued. "....Sonny, and she needs our help carrying this to her apartment. Apartment...?"
"13."
"Damn. That's all the way at the end of the hall, isn't it?" Bowman asked.
"C'mon, boys. Sonny's new around here. Let's be polite and make her want to stay," Tim said. It was then that I noticed he also had a duffel bag and hockey sticks, which he set down outside. They each took a side and I went to lift my own, but I was met with a hand up from Sammo.
"Don't worry about this, me'lady. Don't want you liftin' up a finger." Sammo grinned.
So, I took careful steps behind them, figuring I shouldn't insist to be in the way, and watched them pivot with every bend of the staircase. This was a whole lot easier than careening this whole thing up myself. I wasn't sure what I was thinking when I let those movers leave.
Finally, they set the couch down in the middle of my room. It seemed to be no effort to them at all. I wore a warm smile.
"Thank you guys, so much," I said, holding my hands together.
"Ah, don't mention it. C'mon, Sammo, let's go." The pair left my place, and me and Tim, alone.
I chuckled, feeling a bit awkward. "You really saved the day," I said. "Sorry about that."
"Don't be sorry," he told me. "Looks like we were at the right place at the right time." He smiled. "Well, Sonny, it turns out I'm actually in the apartment right underneath you. Number six. So if you need anything else..."
A sort of dread filled my stomach. You could hear every step you took in this place thanks to the creaky wooden floors. I was already a bit worried about bothering my neighbors with my endless nights of sewing and my impromptu dance parties, now I had to think about not bothering Tim. Strange and yet adorable and super helpful Tim. I tried to hide how horrified I was with a smile right back.
"Cool. I'll keep that in mind," I said. "Thanks again, and, um, see ya around."
"See ya."
#tim laflour fluff#tim laflour x reader#tim laflour#matthew lillard x reader#matthew lillard#poc writer#senseless 1998
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Yandere academy Childe x Onee-san reader
A/n please read: hello! This is fanwork of another writers au aka @yestrday ‘s yandere genshin academy au. I heavily recommend binging their stuff its really good. In particular this piece takes on the sort of onee-san (big sister) route where basically y/n /reader spends most of their time taking care of the first years and overall just being a big ol sweetheart. I just LOVED how the author depicts the older students reacting and getting all jealous over not having y/n’s full attention so i had to write something. Of course i did put some of my own traits into y/n. My favs were Childe and Zhongli so i might write a version with Zhongli instead if i get the inspo.
Cn: not much really, childe is a lil creepy and touchy but y/n is kinda into it lowkey. I cant write make out scenes but theres still alot of it. Also minor mentions of hurt with bennett.
Who could possibly hate l/n y/n. A third year student with a great reputation and grades. Lots of friends, and lots and lots of admirers. But their kindness was their most beloved trait. Y/n always packed extra food for lunch in case a dear friend had forgotten or lost theirs. Y/n often helped out at the nurses office and seemed to have the most soothing voice as they’d patch up students who could be sobbing and shaking. In general they were a well liked and somewhat popular student so it was no surprise they had plenty of admirers. If only they had as much time as Y/n’s biggest flaw was also their kindness. It never felt good to turn people down. Especially when they themselves would love to spend time with their fellow seniors. However they knew Bennett would be sulking if he didn’t see them at lunch today. It honestly left a poor taste in their mouth having to turn down Venti’s offer of a picnic at lunch today. But they didn’t want to pass by the nurses office again and see him in there. Y/n’s heart was solid gold but gold itself is a weak metal that can easily bend.
What was supposed to be a picnic with Childe ended up getting canceled last minute as you held a bruised Bennett in their arms. Wrapping the bandages around tightly but not too tight. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to knock over all those chemicals in the science room!” No matter how exhausted you were though, you never seemed to get tired of Bennett, he was such a lovable little kid, you couldn’t help it. Taking care of people was just a natural instinct within you, which made you get along splendidly with Bennett who more often than not needed taking care of. “Its not your fault Benny I know. I don’t blame you one bit, I’m just glad none of those chemicals were dangerous.” You were finally finished with the last of the bandages and gave Bennett a little kiss on the cheek. “Now you’ll probably be in the nurses office for awhile, I’ll go bring you back some lunch okay? Just wait here”Bennett, his face turned a delicate pink as he eagerly shook his head.
You smiled as you exited out the door. Your tranquility was soon interrupted as you made your by a sudden tug backwards. You could barely blink before feeling your back pinned up against the lockers.
“You’re really messing with me aren’t you~ I hardly get to have any time with you nowadays and you go off to play nanny with that first year!” Childe’s fist was clenched tightly next to your head resting against the cold metal. “I was looking forward to our little date today, you had me thinking I could finally have a second of your oh so precious time and then you run off to comfort him!” He pressed himself into you trapping you against the locker.
“Okay I’m sorry about forgetting but you’re acting psychotic! What on earth are you trying to pull here huh? We’re still at school you dumb-aAH!” You barely got to cover your mouth as Childe eagerly bit into your neck. You bit your lip out of shock, you could barely focus on anything, you hadn’t exactly ever done this before. To witness Childe in such a primal and instinctual mood felt so intimate. You were almost flattered that simply forgetting a lunch hangout had been enough to get him so worked up over you... The sensation of Childe possessively biting into your neck,You could feel your resolve and hesitation melt as you try one last time to pry him off. Finally with a wet smack of his lips he gleefully pulled back revealing a big bruise right on your jugular, out in the open, unable to be hidden with the collar of your uniform. He grinned with a smile you could only describe as manic. Why was it kind of hot though-
“Y-you… You IDIOT! What am I going to do if the staff see this! Gosh I knew you were careless but i didn’t think you would be downright stupid!” Childe basked in pride at your reddened face. As you quickly opened your locker trying to find a jacket of something to cover with.
“Oh please, this wasn’t careless at all. I made sure no body was coming around these parts at this time. And besides, I have a scarf you could borrow if you’re really that insecure about it~” He pressed his mouth right against their ear. You practically died inside then.
“You better! I could get expelled if the school thought I was doing something indecent! I’m not wasting my scholarship just because you’re a little pent up you know?” You practically tugged the scarf off of his and lazily wrapped it around yourself. You were ready to chew him out again when he fixed the scarf to look more presentable. Your cheeks were warm and pink then. He chuckled.
“See? you really have been depriving yourself haven’t you, all this work just to keep that first year alive, you keep rejecting and rejecting my offers,saying you’re ‘just too busy today or maybe tomorrow’ when deep down I can tell you want nothing more than to let me take advantage of you~” He sneaked a quick peck at your cheek making you blush even more.
“Y-you’re wrong! Ah! Stop trapping me against the locker I’m trying to use it! Besides its super inappropriate!” Although, it did feel kind of nice being in his grasp. You spent practically your whole week helping Razor and Bennett prepare for some big tests in Chemistry, and your whole year so far was practically baby sitting the first years which as much as you enjoyed, wasnt always so... rewarding, it could get draining at times to be relied on too much, there was something about just pressing your back against the warm embrace of Childe that made those worries melt. You felt so… so.. desirable. You knew alot of your male peers sought after you romantically but you had no idea he was so desperate just to be with you, who wouldn’t be flattered to be so utterly wanted.
“My my, I didn’t think you would be this easy to wind up girlie, I thought you would have alot more fight in you but aside from your mouth you’re practically just begging for me. I can just tell you’re enjoying this. So why don’t you cut the talk, just let me spoil you for today hm? I’ll forgive you then for forgetting our picnic?” Childe’s hands ran up your curves leaving you to hiss in shock. His pelvis pressed oh so tightly as he pinned you to the locker infront of you.
“You..you’re really not giving up are you?” You turned your head around to weakly scowl at the smug ginger. Which he then proceeded to take the opportunity to kiss you on the lips, the last of your resistance practically melted then, worst case scenario the bell goes off and he HAS to leave then surely. He couldn’t be that dense as to continue past lunch surely! You hear his muffled chuckles as he deepened the kiss and tighten his grip on your waist. His other hand slamming against the locker keeping you from sliding out. You couldn’t help but just wrap your hands around his neck which caused him to jolt in surprise. He pulled away briefly just to look into your embarrassed face.
“I didn’t think you were that touch-starved! Don’t tell me those first years don’t know a thing or two about romance! You devote so much to them and they dont even know how to hold you right?”He laughed. You scowled.
“I-i don’t see them that way! Besides I just like taking care of people its just… I haven’t.. really.. had the chance to… be taken care of like this…you’re.. fuck just shut up and kiss me or I’ll find someone else to!” You practically dragged him back into the kiss much to his delight. He eagerly continued with the session as you let him devour you. However he pulled away a bit too soon for your liking.
“You’re perfect for me you know? Every little thing about you just enamors me sometimes. I know you feel the same too, I can tell you want this, you want me to pick you up in my arms and take you away from all thi-MPHHHff.” You pulled him by his tie back into the kiss. You didn’t have the patience to listen to his rambles. You’ve been deprived of affection for so long and if Childe was going to bother you then you might as well drain him for all he’s got to offer right? At least he seemed all the more willing. He pressed himself so tightly against you that you were convinced he was trying to absorb you. Your hands wrapped around his neck. It felt so… so
RING!!!!!!! Snapping you out of your touch starved craze was the lunch bell signaling the end of lunch and your little.. session with Childe. Catching Childe off guard, you pushed him off finally separating yourself from him as you got your lunch box and ran off to give it to Bennett. Leaving Childe a sweaty and riled up mess. Leaning against the opposite locker he grinned like a cheshire cat.
After dropping your lunch off to Bennett who luckily did not recognize your scarf, you raced to your class and made it just in time. You very shamefully sat down in your seat knowing at least a good chunk of the people here recognized who’s scarf you were wearing, but it was better than them seeing that bruise he left. You could practically feel Scaramouche’s gaze burrowing a hole in your head. You only hoped this class would be over before he decided to strangle you with the darn scarf.
#genshin imagines#yandere tartaglia#yandere genshin impact#yandere childe x reader#yandere childe#genshin x y/n#yandere#slight nfsw#mentions of Scaramouche#lol reader is so fucked#chubby reader
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Im not as familiar with Fallout New Vegas, but your courier oc looks so cool! Id love to see you talk about them if youd like :DD 🍒
Anon literally your ask sent me on the deep end of doodles and ideas sdfghj forgive the little ramble that I'm about to go on
Bentley's an oc I keep coming back to every couple of months bc A) I love the game so much and B) I love my lil courier who's just jinglin janglin their way through the Mojave with their lil robo buddies ED-E and Rex.
In terms of a backstory Bentley's past prior to the run in with Benny is spotty at best - the Doc did a great job patching their skull back together but there's a lot of patches in their memory. They're not too fussed by that for the most part (can't miss what you don't remember right?) but it does become a more prominent issue for them later down the line both in the main game and in terms of the DLC.
They do remember most things though! Mostly surrounding their work and the skills at their disposal - they've been a jack of all trades taking up any kind of job that'll let them travel and explore what's left of the world. Bentley had actually been at the courier gig for a good couple years! Not to mention they've picked up a fair bit of useful info in their travels - people sure love to talk loosely around people they never think they'll see again after all.
Bentley's a bit too laise faire for their own good - they'll shrug off grudges and downplay situations when they really shouldn't so long as they come out of the situation in one piece. Probably the only one out of all my couriers who wouldn't actively throttle Benny immediately on sight if only because they're too invested in the why of the whole picture rather than their own mortality.
Fun fact in their initial design they actually had a pet radroach called Spit! But I suck at drawing animals so I hardly draw em lmao. Maybe someday who knows.
Literally got this and got so excited I had to doodle proper looks for each of the DLCs - they've got a bunch more outfits than this but their coat is too much of a look for them to be caught dead without.
I actually have a couple couriers! One for each of the endings - Bentley's the one that I play the most often but I have fun doodling the others from time to time!
Thank you so much for the ask I had way too much fun rambling and I'm honestly super stoked that you think that they look cool!!! Hope you don't mind if I call you Cherry anon - I hope you have a wonderful day hun! :D
#juno rambling#juno art#fallout new vegas#new vegas#fnv#fnv courier#fnv oc#fallout new vegas oc#courier 6#courier six#fallout oc#fallout bentley#bentley#six#vikram#Roman#cherry anon#cherry anon i hope your pillows cool and your fridge is full
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Oh my God, someone who writes about my current fixation, I love it (and you, you're awesome)
May I please, please, request a Doc Ock (either TSSM or 2004 movie) X fem!reader that's his lab partner, and while they work the have this Playlist going, and there's one specific song they have to take a break from working and dance with each other? (You know, get the blood flowing again, talk to another person, human contact, pine over the other, the like) (I'm thinking they either tango or waltz together, not alone)
They both obviously like each other, but too either shy or stubborn to say anything. So the dancing gives them both an outlet, a way to fantasize the life they would have together.
(Probably better suited for a Doctor Octavius than a Doc Ock)
(If you can't work with this, feel free to delete, no pressure, I get it)
(Again, you're awesome, ily)
(Also, where did you get your DILF hunting license? I've been doing it under the table for years, would love to go legit)
stoppppp you're too kind~~~~ i love you too anon <33 i gave you some mutual pining with TSSM otto for this bad boy. and i know you didn't ask for it, buttttttt...... i made the playlist for you on spotify!! it helped me write ngl. and about my dilf hunting license, you have to be at least 16 to take the test and get a permit and you have to get a psych eval done issued by the state to ensure that it isn’t just daddy/mommy issues, but if you pass then you’re good to go ;)
Soft Rock Mix ||tssm otto octavius x fem.reader
word count: 1232
summary: Work breaks are healthy. It's important to get up and stretch every so often! Dancing with someone could be a good way to get your blood flowing again... especially if you've been crushing on them for years.
trigger warnings: none :)
“Don’t worry about Osborn.” She frowned. “He’s just… rude.” A reassuring hand rest itself on his shoulder. Otto looked up at her and sighed, closing his eyes momentarily. “I-It’s nothing. I’ve dealt with it for nearly 20 years. A-After all, I’m getting paid, aren’t I?” He slowly let a smile hint at his lips, causing her to guiltily smile in response and look back ahead of her. “You do a pretty darn good job here, Doctor. I just wish you were treated with the respect you deserve.” Taking open strides to the radio sitting on an open desk not far away, she plucked a CD from the sleeve book. It had “soft rock mix!” written neatly in sharpie on one side. Otto turned back to the work table, a now-lifeless actuator layed in a straight line in front of him. He heard the first chords of Bennie and the Jets begin to hum inside the lab and he couldn’t help but smile to himself, his cheeks warming.
The Soft Rock Mix was Otto’s favorite. It was one that he always found himself nodding his head to no matter how he was feeling. His assistant knew him well, though, that was to be expected after nearly five years of working at his hand. Otto pulled a welding mask over his face and burned the connectors together inside of the arms. Yn shuffled back to the table of her own and continued working. Osborn typically left a negative wake after any visits to the laboratory, but ever since Yn began to work with Otto… each time became a bit more bearable. A soft hum playing at her lips (she’d heard this mixtape many times now), she let her head nod in rhythm with Elton John’s keyboard. Her fingers danced across her own, less musical keyboard, typing out the progress report that Osborn had so desperately desired.
“. . . The work shown by Doctor Octavius and Doctor Ln -”
no, no… that’s not right. Click click click click click…
“. . . by Doctor Octavius will be listed here in full detail, as follows.”
Her back ached, as did most Oscorp scientists’, but with a deadline to be met for a full report that very night, there wasn’t much else she could do other than slump over and get it done. It always eased her, however, to look up and see her superior gently swaying to the mixtape he somehow never seemed to grow old of. If it hadn’t meant so much to him, she probably wouldn’t ever bother with it. He tapped his foot following the beat as another song she’d memorized faded out, and the gentle synth signaling the beginning of Billy Idol’s Eyes Without a Face poured in. Catching her attention, Otto swiftly walked to the radio and turned the volume up a bit. When he turned back around, he was grinning from ear to ear until he caught her humored gaze. He quickly flushed red and shrunk down a bit. “No, no! Don’t back down now.” She giggled, standing up from her computer chair and popping her back. “Here, may I?” She approached him gingerly and took his hands. “Wh-What??” His cheeks burned a bright crimson and she led him to an open spot in the laboratory.
She intertwined her fingers with his own and began breathing her breaths a bit quicker. Otto was at a complete loss, only able to follow her lead as the two of them ambled along into a sort of waltzing position. “Know how to dance?” She asked him, beginning to sway before giving him the chance to answer her. Luckily for her, he did! A gushing stuttering mess, he gently moved his feet in time with hers as the spun around the floor, labcoats flowing like expensive tailcoats and ballgowns. Otto couldn’t help but look at her hands which graced his own with their touch. Her skin was cold and soft, fingers slipping between his with delightful comfort and simplicity; though the feelings shared were anything but simple.
“You’re pretty smooth, Doctor!” She giggled, him revelling in her praises. “O-Oh, stop that.” He murmured, shying his gaze to the floor with a bashful grin. She pulled him a bit closer and softly nudged his chin up to look at her, and when he looked up once again he could have sworn he had seen the most genuine, loving glint in her eye. Maybe it was just the lights from the tanks full of acid or the flashing of buttons from panels on the wall, but the colors melted together into a visual cacophony that filled his heart so full he couldn’t help but let it spill back out; in the form of a soft gasp. “Everything okay?” She asked him, startled. “Y-Yes…! I-I’m… Everything’s perfect.” He stumbled in his words trying to piece together fragments of what he truly wanted to say. Her lips curled into a soft unconvinced smile, but she shook her head and dropped it. “A-Are you a fan of Billy Idol, too?” Otto asked her, desperately scrambling to fill the silence his catastrophic slip-up had left behind.
“I only know him thanks to you.” She replied, moving her hand down to his shoulder. She wondered, fruitlessly, if he liked to dance at home as well. Would they dance together like this if they lived together? Able to take him by the hands and waltz around the kitchen whenever they wanted, wearing whatever they wanted. They wouldn’t be confined by labcoats and nametags and button-ups and slacks. There would be no need for closed-toe shoes or long socks. Only pajama pants and t-shirts and maybe some house shoes if the tile felt particularly chilly that evening. The idea of living with Doctor Octavius made her face grow red and her smile reach her teeth in a shy recoil. “W-What are you smiling about?” He allowed himself to laugh with her as they swayed, meeting her gaze in the dim light of the buzzing LEDs. “You’re just a lot of fun to be around. Did you know that?” She quickly responded, completely avoiding the topic of her thoughts. The two had much in common. Otto’s eyes felt half-lidded after the compliment. “F-Fun? I-I wouldn’t say that. I’ve n-never been very fun. Y-Y-You, h-however…” Unable to complete his sentence, he trailed off in hopes she could connect the dots herself.
“Fun is ambiguous. I think you’re fun just the way you are.” She said, smirking down at him. “W-Why are you so insistent on flustering me…?” He said breathily, hardly able to stand on his own two feet. She spun around under his arm and grinned. “Because it’s fun.” She let her hands slip from his and she returned to her desk as the song faded away in a dwindling murmur of synth chords. Otto watched her as she took the same, long strides back to her chair and he couldn’t help but look upon her with the most fervent of admiration. Being honest with himself, it was more than that. There wasn’t one word he could think of to really explain how he felt about her, and so he stuck to what he typically did. He shuffled bashfully back to his workbench and picked up his torch again. Late nights were late nights, of course; but with Yn around? Like Osborn, they became a bit more bearable each time.
||
chapter 2: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/ybkayley/691215016131706880?source=share
#doctor octopus x reader#x reader#doc ock x reader#doc ock#doctor octopus#otto octavius#marvel x reader#otto octavius x reader#tssm x reader#the spectacular spider man#tssm doc ock#tssm doctor octopus
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17, 37, and 41 for the ask game :)
17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?
probably the long-running james and lily are celebrities who break up and then get back together that's told entirely in celebrity profile, which i wrote 2000 words of in high school and then never got back too even though i still think about it sometimes. there were some funny chat show scenes that i cant really fit anywhere else. also i really should go back to that ginny soccer player / harry as famous retired player whose fucked bc of injury and ginny is just mooning after him and being a general sexy legend
37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?
i am continually surprised at the level of attention my stuff gets lol, nothing is ever really underrated bc i am always surprised at how many people are still here!! i did like the last social media i did, i think a lot of the jokes land and the fish bit is good. also i love sirius looking for lily at the end bc he hasnt seen her, the greatest of weird friends! i also quite like this short little thing that has sirius being quick and james being gonners for lily, two things that are required for me
41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”
here have a few:
i watched the queens gambit years after everyone else for some reason and it totoally unravelled me! critical. brella's fic for beth/benny was a key part of this i believe
@micamicster's the load out is very very good stranger things fic written from a very character-based place that i am such a sucker for. so juicy and interesting and funny!!
all avocadomoon stuff is required reading to me, but espically this ready or not grace/daniel thing that rips
@fuckjamespotter (el's) wild child au is still a master class, shes the greatest
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miles teller & he/him/ cis man ‷ watch out , benjamin “ben” scott has crash-landed into roswell !! they look 35 years old and celebrate their birthday on august 24th. they are from brooklyn, new york, reside in moonbeam gardens and are currently working as a podcaster/actor. one thing you should know about them is he started his career in the first broadway production of the lion king‷
Hi all, I bring you one of my oldest characters who I’ve missed quite a bit! Give this a like if you want to plot something out ❤️
ABOUT.
Name: Benjamin Eric Scott
Nicknames: Ben, Scotty, Benny Boy
Age: Thirty-five
Date of Birth: 24th August 1987
Birthplace: Brooklyn, New York, USA
Occupation: Podcaster/Actor
Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Biromantic/bisexual (male leaning)
tw: violence, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, mentions of homophobia
Benjamin “Ben” Scott grew up in Brooklyn, New York, to a stay at home mom and a doctor father.
When he was a kid he wanted to be a spaceman, exactly like Buzz Lightyear. That was the dream.
His mom had other ideas since he’d spend his days putting on plays with the other neighbourhood kids and dancing and singing. So, not long after his 9th birthday, she started to push and finally got him a job on the first Broadway production of The Lion King. That was what he did for almost ten years —- he lived on the stage.
After graduation he went on to study drama at Juilliard School, getting into a kind of routine. School, theatre, school, theatre, and then he’d spend Sunday at the gym. He didn’t have much of a social life, just hung out in seedy bars with his theatre friends, getting into fights and very rarely waking up in his own bed, usually bloody and bruised whenever he did.
He dabbled in relationships here and there, fell for a guy in his final year of college, but things weren’t meant to be. Everything was badly timed. He’s probably still a little in love with him to this day, but he’s never been too good at admitting that out loud.
Finally, following graduation, he got his first movie role, nothing major, but hella exciting for him. Movie roles were pretty rare, though, so he paid for his tiny apartment in Hell’s Kitchen with constant stints on Broadway.
He ended up in a bad place. Fell into an abyss of drink and drugs, going out each night after the show pretty much just trying to pick fights. It was almost a game, trying to hide the bruises the next day.
At 26 the relationship he ended up in was beyond toxic, neither one of them any good for each other and he only landed himself in more trouble.
Things went too far one night on his way home following the show; some guy thinking it was funny to continuously rib him over his sexuality. Ben, seeing red, lost it completely and could have quite easily beat him to death.
Prison was his next port of call. He was there for a year, got out on good behaviour, although his stay behind bars did its job in destroying what little movie career he had left.
Since getting out six years ago he’s been working on his anger issues. He’s attended meetings, seen a therapist and he’s big into meditating. His Frenchie, Simba, helps him through.
He attempted another relationship (kinda) with a friend from college days, but that too was destined not to work out for him.
Moving away from New York was definitely a part of the process, he moved over to LA for a couple of years to try something different, got back into theatre and filmed a pilot for a show that sadly wasn’t picked up.
He lost his acting big break thanks to what happened, a major role in a much anticipated movie gone, so he stuck with theatre alone for a while.
During the last couple of months of 2021 he received a letter from the friend he’d dated several years previous in New York informing him that he was a dad. Within a month he’d packed his bags and moved to New Mexico to find her and meet his son. Definitely not part of his plan, but he wanted to try and do something as soon as he found out.
TIMELINE:
1987: Brooklyn, New York
2006: Hells Kitchen, Manhattan, New York
2015: Metropolitan Correctional Center, New York
Late 2016: Hell’s Kitchen, Manhattan, New York
2018: Los Angeles, California
Late 2021: Roswell, New Mexico
WANTED CONNECTIONS:
- younger siblings; his has three of them, any gender, go wild. I’d love to see them if you’re interested!
- cousins; why not? we love family <3
- college ex; they really did meet at the wrong time, it was never going to work for long, yet ben was so in love with him and he’s still not over it.
- toxic ex; this whole relationship was a bad idea. everything about it was toxic, but at the time he couldn’t resist her. maybe if they’d attempted the relationship at another time things would have been better... but definitely not then.
other exes from nyc; both in college and after. [ noa ocampo. ]
- one night stands; there’s been a lot of them, both in nyc and la. he’s bi so both male and female work.
- gym buddies; if he’s not working he pretty much lives in the gym. it’s a great distraction.
- nyc friends; people he’s known for years and trusts completely.
- neighbours in moonbeam; it can go however you like.
- dog park people; he has simba so he’s there a lot walking him.
- fellow aa or na people; anyone he’s met through those meetings.
- past work colleagues; anyone he’s worked on broadway/stage or on a movie/tv set with in the past.
- current work colleagues; self explanatory.
I’m really up for anything, so let’s brainstorm!!!
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aaannnd it's day twenty three of the tea prompts challenge! deets and whatnot are here for this.
today's ficlet (or fic since i went a bit over my wordcount) is a direct continuation of "yesterday's" ficlet, so dean and cas are continuing their date. it both does and doesn't go well.
(also a brief tw today -- there's a bit of heavy petting that eventually starts to hit cas the wrong way in this installment. it ends ok, but it may hit some people wrong and i'd like folks to know that going in)
today's flavor is virgo.
“Winchester, not everyone is as afraid of flavor as you are,” a woman materializes next to Castiel, leans over the bar to leave a smacking kiss on Benny’s cheek, and then waltzes back off towards a four top in the back.
“Lovely to see you too, Andrea,” Dean says, sucking his teeth. Castiel hides a smile. Dean’s cute when he’s grumpy.
“So,” Benny says, drawing Dean’s attention back from where he’d been drilling holes with his eyes in Andrea’s back. “You boys wanna sit at the bar?”
Dean gives one of his tight smiles that doesn’t meet his eyes. Castiel think this one means that Dean’s really unhappy but doesn’t want anyone to know. He hasn’t been around Dean long enough to know for sure, but he does know that he hates to see the creeping tightness around Dean’s green eyes.
“It’s up to Dean,” Castiel says, rocking on his heels and burying his nervous hands in his pockets, “but I’ll sit anywhere if you let me try your Hanoverian burger.”
Both Dean and Benny blink at Castiel for a moment.
Castiel desperately tries to keep playing it cool. “What? You think I wouldn’t at least check this place out on Instagram before taking a date here?”
Things even out, after that. Benny’s clearly still not sold on Castiel, but the tension’s gone at least. The food is amazing enough on its own that it makes the dinner worthwhile. While they’re deciding on dessert, Castiel almost steps in it again by admitting that his original reservation had been at La Petite Saucisson.
“What — Sammy told you the place was too exclusive for the likes of me?” Dean says, trying to play real hurt off like a joke.
“No,” Castiel says. He watches Dean for a moment, registers that both Benny and Andrea are once again shamelessly eavesdropping on their conversation, and decides to just be honest. “Your brother probably guessed by the name alone that it was French food done by a guy who thought he could cook better than the French without ever going France and that you deserve better.”
Dean blinks.
“Damn, brother,” Benny drawls, placing a piece of chess pie in front of Castiel and a slice of apple pie in front of Dean, “if it was that bad, why’d you plan on taking Dean there in the first place?”
“Even though the atmosphere is a little…” Castiel pauses, eyes focusing on a far off point, trying to come up with an adjective.
“Intense?” Benny offers.
Castiel hums in agreement. “Even though the atmosphere is a little starched shirt, the martinis really are some of the best in the area and I have a standing biweekly dinner there with a friend that has an incurable crush on the bartender. I don’t really eat out much and I prefer to know that my dates will at least have a decent time wherever I bring them.” Castiel makes himself stop. Sometimes his childhood habit of over explaining his motivations to people comes back to bite him.
“Somebody likes Crowley?” Benny asks, eyebrows at his hairline.
“Balt’s a good friend,” Castiel says, digging into his pie. It really is as good as the picture made it look. “There’s no accounting for taste, though.”
Dean snorts quietly into his own piece of pie.
//
They hold hands on the drive home. Dean’s half curled up in his seat, watching Castiel drive. Castiel does his best to focus on the road but it’s hard to do with Dean looking at him like that.
Dean flips Castiel’s hand over in his and traces what Castiel thinks is his lifeline across his palm.
“I’m an Aquarius, you know,” he says, like it’s both sexy and has a hidden meaning. Castiel blinks. Dean didn’t strike him as someone who would buy into that astrology stuff.
Castiel’s put up with weirder for crushes though so he says, “I think I’m a Virgo?”
Dean laughs and kisses Castiel’s palm. “Not big on astrology huh?”
“My sister loves it,” Castiel says, thinking with a sudden pang that he desperately needs to call his sister soon. “But I don’t really understand it.”
//
Castiel walks Dean to his door and leans forward to place a kiss on Dean’s cheek. Dean’s not having it, though. He turns his face at just the right moment and their lips collide. Castiel sinks into it, lets Dean reel him in close by the collar of his shirt while Dean presses his tongue against the seam of Castiel’s lips. Dean tastes like apples and cinnamon.
Castiel doesn’t know how long they stand there or how he winds up pushing Dean against his apartment door but when Dean pulls away long enough to say “you’re coming inside, sunshine,” all Castiel can do is nod.
Then they’re halfway across Dean’s living room and Dean’s shirt is somehow already off. Castiel’s shirt is also somehow half unbuttoned and Dean’s sliding down his front to mouth at the tent in Castiel’s jeans. He presses what would be a chaste kiss against Castiel’s crotch and looks up at Castiel through his lashes. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”
Dean’s suddenly standing again and he’s leading Castiel through the back hallway and towards his bedroom. He’s swaying his hips and nibbling at his kiss swollen lips and this is all too fast and so, so wrong and Dean’s stopped being Dean and he’s performing again and Castiel doesn’t know how to stop it.
Castiel bounces when his back hits Dean’s bed and suddenly he’s
looking up at Dean as Dean’s crawls on top of him.
“How do you want me, sweetheart?” Dean breathes, pressing a kiss against Castiel’s sternum.
Castiel’s quiet for just a beat too long. Dean pulls away and a light clicks on somewhere to Castiel’s left.
“Is it going to be like this every fucking time with you?” Dean voice is angry, through and through, but Castiel can see in his face just how hurt he is. “What do I have to do here? Every time you blow hot and then you blow cold and then you say this shit —“
“I like you, Dean.” Castiel sits up, tries to right his shirt, fails miserably and gives up and just takes the damn thing off.
“Fuck you,” Dean snaps, voice at a half yell and turning around to hide his face from Castiel. “I want you to leave.”
“I like you, Dean,” Castiel says, refusing to back down. “I want to be with you.”
“I don’t know what the fuck that even means,” Dean says, spinning back around. “How do you make me feel so wanted and unwanted at the same time?”
Castiel kisses him but he keeps it gentle, soft. It’s hot, because it’s them and they apparently don’t have any other setting, but he tries to convey with the press of his lips that they’re kissing right now, not getting ready for something else. Dean tenses for a minute and then melts into it, mouth softening under Castiel’s.
They stay there for a few minutes, taking soft breathes of air in between kisses. Eventually Castiel pulls away. Dean stays where Castiel left him and presses his lips together, his eyes opening slowly.
“What do you want from me?” He says, barely above a whisper.
“I just want to be with you,” Castiel says and pulls Dean into his chest, rubbing his hands up and down Dean’s back while Dean burrows into Castiel’s shoulder. “I want you to feel like you can always be yourself with me, that you don’t feel the need to perform, to play a part to get me to stay.”
Dean tenses. Castiel gives him a squeeze and then pulls back so he can see Dean’s face. Dean won’t meet Castiel’s eyes.
“Look at me, Dean?” Castiel says, making sure that he doesn’t command it. When Dean finally drags his eyes up to meet Castiel’s, he says, “I want you. I want you with every fiber in my being, but tonight I just want to hold you. I’m not ready for more, right now. But when we’re both ready —“ Castiel palms Dean through his jeans, rubs his thumb across Dean’s crotch just so and watches heat flood Dean’s face as his lashes flutter, “you won’t be able to think about anything else but where our bodies touch and how good it feels.” Castiel slides his hand back up Dean’s side and cups his face.
“Tease,” Dean says, voice hoarse.
“Maybe,” Castiel says, blushing a bit at his own daring for a second. “But I promise I’ll be worth it.”
Dean kisses him.
#this one and the new hampshire one are starting to feel like they'll eventually get made in Real Fics when this is over#but we'll see#also i have no idea if they ever gave cas a canon birthday#but for today's purposes#his birthday is august 23rd :)#because i had to make a cheesy astrology joke lmao#my fic#spn#tea prompts
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Some thoughts on the Family Tree Saga (I adore these):
To Celine, Joey and Gigi's Parent 1: What. The. Fuck./lh (Seriously, what was the inspo to make these three half siblings?/genq)
I wonder how Nova feels about their older sibling. Did they ever ask Nuru and Sarabi?
Uhh what happened to Tila's family tree? Where are her grandparents? Ancles?
Holy shit Noa are you okay????/lh
Hmm... if Miles has baby sister Billie, would he want to go to a college/uni in Vinyl City?
I like the idea that Maize (Ham's aunt) goes by Corn or Cereal in day to day life (That is why Ham calls herself Ham, food connections)
Have a feeling that that tree is Satoru's "official" family tree, bc I imagine the AMAB folk of blues family having non official concubines to have more children (so Satoru may have a bunch of half siblings or relatives who are not included in this tree)
Not to be nitpicky but I think the comics say that Shoko's powers are rare, and (I think) only Shoko can perform healing on other people as of now (Though I do like that its parents kept on trying for girls until they had a healer that can heal others too, only for that one to go rogue)
-Celin/Joey/Gigi: It's either a poly relationship with their mom being the center, or a singular parent was just a whore/jiggalo lol
The inspo actually comes from my own family. My nana had 4 kids, only 2 are full siblings, then my mom had 3 kids and only me and my brother are full siblings. That's probably the main reason I love the relationship of half siblings so much lol
-Nova: He most likely knows by now. Honestly he probably knew as a kid because his parents spoiled him rotten because they were just so happy to still have a child.
-Tila: Okay, my bad, I forgot about the grandparents in Tila's family tree lol. But both her parents were only kids, so no auncles. Grandparents aren't really in the picture so that's the main reason I forgot them (might change her tree honestly. I kinda blanked out when making hers tbh).
-Noa: No. No he's not. He got an extreme version of parentification and that was the major driving force for him to join Ex-Jay as a way to gain any sort of freedom (though his upbringing did kinda make him the mom friend of the group)
-Miles: Possibly not, but I think by the time he gets to college his sister will be about 3 years old (maybe 2) if he doesn't take a break from school to do so. I think at that point he'd be a bit more okay leaving to be with Gwen at school since Billie could go to daycare and stuff at that point (he'd be hesitant to, but his mom would want him to get the best education and music/art degree he can if that is truly what he wants to do with his life)
-Ham: Hey you saw my food joke/pun thing! Benny is also one! (Eggs Benny is another way to say Eggs Benedict lol). Love the idea that they will tell Maize to stop being corny or for Ham to stop hamming it up, just food puns like that as a cute close family!
-Satoru: Oh yeah, I can see that. Though if I thought of that I would have made it look like they had concubines/side pieces because I didn't even think of what an "official" family tree would look like. Like an official one from Neon J or Tatiana would probably look different from what I gave as the REAL one, but we can totally have this version of Satoru's as the "official" one the fam shows off.
-Shoko: See, I didn't know that! That is good information to know. But that also goes into the idea of "rare" as in the world, or "rare" as in anyone? Because in the world, possibly ONLY Shoko's family has that specific kind of healing power, which means it is still a rare power. But if you mean rare as in for anyone to have, then most likely Shoko is the only (or one of the only) people with that specific healing power (while other users are not related to it at all).
So personally I like the idea of a family power (similar to Eve and Pav), but we can always have it so that Shoko's family can only heal plant elementals or something like that. Perhaps only people connected by blood (so only family members) and Shoko is the only one to be able to heal outside of the family.
Definitely want to keep the idea that afab people in this family have more power than amab people, because I just like that idea for this family for some reason. Whatever the reasoning is (whether it's powers or something else), I think I'm keeping the family tree as is.
OH! Maybe it's like a power that skips generations! Shoko's parents knew their kids were most likely supposed to have this amazing and absolutely OP healing power. But each new kid just failed to produce it (even though they were girls which this power is more likely to show up in) so they kept trying (making SURE they were giving birth to a girl) until they got Shoko (and then, like you said, it defected from the family and "ruined" everything)
I actually like that version quite a bit! Gives a reason as to why the Auncle with no kid and no marriage was disowned since they weren't "participating" in keeping that generations healer alive.
#nsrtalk#spidertalk#jjktalk#eriverse#noart#asks#i will GLADLY answer more family tree asks#i fucking LOVE family trees#pretty much the same level as i like doing math for games#just putting logic and filling in holes#it's so much fun#also the fact that some of these family trees#(like n/eon and q/uida's)#have just been in my head for YEARS#and i JUST decided to actually share them#lol#anyway#love that i was able to come up with that version#of s/hoko's family tree#i like that a lot honestly!
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Do you have a bad reputation?
lol no, not at all.
Have you ever gone through a bad breakup?
yes, i sure have. felt like i was dying.
Do you believe in Jesus?
I sure do.
Has anyone ever used a cheesy pickup line on you?
lol yes. a lot of times.
Are you hard of hearing?
no.
Would you ever want a statue made of you?
lol no.
What's the name of your best friend?
isnt that a good question.
When did you last go for a run?
I was working out
What is something that gives you good vibes?
thunderstorms, a fire in the fireplace.
How many bones have you broken in your life?
like 9. ive broken the same ankle 3x and i’ve broken 6 toes.
What did you last search for?
what states have the most snow and rain lol
What color are your lampshades?
2 are cream and 1 is stained glass
Where are you currently?
In my room.
Has anyone ever called you dumb?
yup.
Do you have any cats?
two
What were you doing last time 3am came around?
usually readjusting in bed and trying to cool off.
What's your favorite love song?
the way you look tonight
What all did you do last night?
i took care of gram, mom, and my uncle. then tried to plan a bday trip and my bday weekend. took a couple calls.
What last let you down?
treatment im getting
How many lights do you have on?
i have on a set of string lights, my closet light, and one other light that i would like turned off but its all the way over there.
Have you ever had vertigo?
yea. i used to have to go to the doctor for it.
Has your house ever been robbed?
No, thank God.
Are you currently tired?
somewhat.
When did you last get a haircut?
outside of my own self cutting my hair or my sister/mom uhhhhhhhhh probably 10 years. sadly. i just cant afford it.
Do you ever use the slang "sheesh"?
of course.
Have you done a breathing exercise recently?
yes
What food/drink did you last waste?
uhhhh probably a beverage.
Have you ever had collard greens?
yes
Do you or would you ever live on a coast?
maybe in like vermont. maine. connecticut
Are you a cry baby?
lol no
If you have a partner, do you have a song?
looooool. i cant comment on this.
Have you ever dug a hole? What for?
Of course. fence posts.
Do you spend too much time in your room?
I love to spend time in my room.
Have you ever fainted? What from?
Yep. heat stroke
What is something that is "just like heaven" to you?
late night drives.
Who is someone you know who is gorgeous?
uhhhhhhhhhhh gosh there are so many people.
Do you know a Chelsea?
yes but shes a bit of a witch lol
Would you rather kill or be killed?
be killed
What's a good habit you have?
i am a good care taker.
Would you rather have 12 fingers or 12 toes?
probably toes.
What's the sweetest, best pie you've ever had?
mmmm i can remember it but idk where i had it from
What did you last try to do?
convince benny to stay in my room. it worked.
Have you broken anyone's heart?
yes
Do you have brown eyes?
no, blue eyes.
Are you currently barefoot?
yes
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Favorite Benny books?
Ok so. Tumblr crashed as I was typing this on mobile. I am retyping it on desktop cause fuck this site, and I Have Opinions, and my friend I will let you hear them or so help me!
.... This got. Really. Really long. I am adding a read more to spare you guys from that.
Ok so! As a preface, I haven't read many VNAs with Benny in it, and of her solo books, I still have 2 of her Legion books to read.
I'm going to (re)start this with the VNAs!
Love and War: a very classic answer perhaps, but it is a really good introduction for Benny, even if the book has its flaws and can certainly show its age nowadays. Cornell absolutely nails her right off the bat, and from her very first page, Benny is just a character that keeps you interested. Not only does she work great as a counter to both Seven and Ace, but she also brings a breath of life to the whole range the way only a prose character can.
Plus, I think one of the greatest successes of that book lies in how Benny appears as a rounded and flawed person from the beginning. She’s not your ordinary girl dragged to a whirlwind of adventure and an universe of wonders, but an older, adult woman, with a good chunk of life experience and adventures already behind her, and while setting foot inside the TARDIS opens up a new and unexpected chapter in her life, it does also remain just that. A chapter. Benny had a life before the Doctor, and from that moment, while noone could have predicted it then, she would have one after him as well.
The Left-Handed Hummingbird: I just finished that one last week, so it’s obviously both fresh in my mind, and one I'm thinking highly of at the moment. Well I mean, it’s Orman! Or course I love it. She really is great at writing both intricate, large stories, and yet focusing on the personal, on the human side of things. And I find that this book does a great job at putting benny in the role of the grounding presence both for ace and the doctor, as well as exploring how time traveling as they do, and dealing with seven’s schemes can be frustrating for benny. That whole tardis team is a mess, and none of these people really… work well together, but it’s because they’re so dysfunctioning that they’re fascinating, and orman absolutely nails that.
Theater of War: A very different type of book, it is honestly a fun romp, and it has Benny being an actual archeologist, down to dealing with the academia side of things. And it’s the little things, but I love it when Benny books remember that about her tbh? Also, it has some nice theater theming, and well, as an introduction for brax, it certainly works well! It’s one of those VNAs that I think is just fun. A well crafted story with good takes on the characters, that’s always enjoyable to me!
Return of the Living Dad: Orman again?? What a surprise! But frankly, I love how this book is all about Benny and her daddy issues, be it with the Doctor or well, her actual dad. Between that, her budding marriage with Jason, and finding out so many old wounds reopened, I just. Really love how raw Benny can be under Orman’s pen? How underneath it all, she still has that side of the scared orphan that lost both parents to a war she was far, far too young to ever comprehend, and how that just left her rebelling against the world in general, and resenting deep down her parents for that abandon. I mean, it’s neat character stuff, but it can very easily be written as dull & cliche shitte you know? And Orman really… always get down to the heart of it all, and boi does it make for some great reading.
The Dying Days: It’s a very fun book, and well, technically works as the first round for Benny as the lead woman after all! It’s a joy all throughout, triumphant where it needs to be, and managing to both celebrate the Doctor and what he brought to the VNAs, as well as setting up the stage for Benny to go on to her own range. It’s basically one last run of the old team, and well. I do love Benny & Eight, and yes I am blaming Parkin for it. Also, big brained take to have Eight give her Wolsey because I love that cat and Benny deserves a cute kitty in her life. We all do.
Ok!! Now on to the NA, and my personal favorite era!
Dragon’s Wrath: It’s a fun one!! I do really like the story being centered again on archeology first and foremost, and it’s a good romp that has some really good take on Benny. Especially the trial scenes, I love how those one get down to Benny as someone who despite everything, loves history, and cares very very deeply about the artifacts she uncovers. Also, it introduces brax as a mainstay of the dellah era, and does so in a rather nice way. Overall, a very enjoyable book!
Beyond the Sun: Benny & students stranded on a planet with mystery to uncover, that’s already a fun premise, and then throw in all the various queer themes present, especially with Emile, and the whole scene of them all in drag performing on top of a bus, and it’s just a rather good book. Plus, I love how it mirrors the whole VNA Doctor mantra, except with a very Benny twist. Sometimes cruel, sometimes cowardly, but trying her damndest to do good. And well, that’s just Benny isn’t it? I always harp on about the very heart of Benny being her humanity, and if there’s something that book highlights, it’s that.
Deadfall: Jason takes center stage in this one, and well, I do really love Jason. It’s overall a fun book with some nice lore ideas, and I love how it works Cwej in the whole Dellah setting. Also, at least it’s a story with Jason in the lead that doesn’t end in utter tragedy, and that’s always nice!
Tempest: Ok so. That book isn’t great. The story’s cliche, the characters aren’t the best, and the plot itself? Forgettable, it’s another in the list of “sort of base under siege story in the dellah era” which you’d think wouldn’t be super common and yet! So… why am I listing it here? Cause the concept of the planet!! The idea of a world of storms and disaster, run through via a blind train as the only means of transport? The fantastic animal life described in it??? That book left an impression of me, and that’s not something I can say of all of the others.
The Medusa Effect: … Justin Richard writes a good Benny. Like, legit. I love how that one really works with the setting & history of Dellah, and gives further information on the planet’s involvement with the Dalek war. Plus, it also got some really, really nice aesthetics. I am soft for good aesthetics ok? Benny, dancing with a skeleton on the deck of an old spaceship made to look like a cruise liner in an hallucination/dream sequence type of thing? Sign me right up!
Beige Planet Mars: That one is a blast. I remember just, absolutely loving it when I read it tbh. Between the overall description of Mars, the further Lore Implication of the Mars invasion & all that, as well as it basically being one last round of more… Normal dellah books before everything goes to hell? It’s one i’d highly recommend if you want to have a good time.
Tears of the Oracle: Probably my favorite of that whole range? (apart from dead romance, which I am not counting as a benny book) I love just, how much overall… feelings isn’t quite the words i’m looking for, but i can’t think of a better way to put it… there is throughout the book? It was thought to be the end of the NA as it was written and well, that shows. I love how it weaves the whole mystery of “what happened to that legendary archaeologists?” with the whole side of what’s basically some of the only survivors from dellah going on one last round of discovery. The status quo of the range was destroyed quite a few books before that one, but imo, it’s there that they take the time to stop for a bit, and just. Deals with what that means in actuality. And ngl, I love the entire sequence of Benny & Brax walking through the wreckage of what used to be their home, it’s a scene that works really, really well.
And well, it does a great job at setting up the future as well after all! Yes, there’s still 3 books after it, but when you look at where Big Finish picked up… they went for what Tears of the Oracle was setting up. It really makes the transition flows well between those two, unlike my rambling for a full paragraph before going to “here’s the BF books I like”
The Doomsday Manuscript: A very good start for the range! Not only does it set up the whole collection, but it also introduces the Fifth Axis as a major threat, and does so in a wonderfully well paced book that keeps you hooked throughout. I like how it also sets up Jason’s loss as something Benny is still suffering over, as well as how she hasn’t lost hope in finding him again. Plus frankly, it’s also a really good story.
The Glass Prison: You’d think that for a book where Benny spends the majority of it in prison and not very active due to being near the end of her pregnancy, not much would happen, but the way Jacqueline Rayner builds up an atmosphere of unease, mistrust and a genuine disturbing ambiance throughout the book is just, fantastic.
Genius Loci: This book. This book!!! Ben Aaronovitch writes an absolutely powerful story of Benny as a young woman, lost and finding herself faced with far more responsibility than she ever thought possible. The way he writes the whole mystery, while also making Benny as a 20yo not only believable, but quite distinct from Benny as the adult we’ve all come to know and love is just. So good. My main grip with this book is how abruptly it ends, and how we’ll never get the sequel. I want to read Terra Incognita and more of Benny slowly finding herself damn it!
Dead Men Diaries: Just like Doomsday Manuscript, does a great job at establishing the collection as well as the recurring cast. I really enjoy most of the stories in it, and I think BF started out so strong on those books srsly!
A Life in Pieces: I love it so much. It’s pure brax at his most manipulative, and for such petty reasons. I really like how it both deals with the aftermath of the Fifth Axis occupation, as well as the repercussions Brax’s schemes have for the people living on the collection. Also, it’s just 3 very good novellas in a row that build up to something more, and I always like seeing that.
Nobody’s Children: That book has the best Draconian story in the entirety of doctor who and related. Like, yeah just that. It’s also nice to see the fallout of the Mim/Draconian war. It’s one I didn’t expect a lot out of, and frankly, I ended up really loving it.
The Vampire Curse: The middle novella is one I absolutely hated, but the other two are really good, and mixing benny and vampires is just, very fun. Also!! Predating the Predator is in it, and it is a really good take on vampires in a science fiction setting that also has some nice creep factor as well, and manages to be both a good vampire story, and a good sci fi story, which isn’t always an easy balance to find.
Life During Wartime: It’s a surprisingly hard hitting anthology about living under a fascist regime, and the compromises you have to make, the personal sacrifices and small rebellions. Honestly, there’s a lot I love about it, but certainly one of my favorite moment, is when Benny, having to dine with one of the officers, miss jones & jason, sees that the officer is nearly on to her hiding peter away, and that split second moment of “if I have to, I am willing to kill everyone in this room to protect my son” before he just laughs it off, it’s a lot of tiny moments that build up to a really well done ambiance tbh.
Something Changed: While it did the terrible, terrible sin of introducing Doggles to the world, I really love the concept of every chapter after the first being a different split universe, and how they’re all spiraling more & more out of control. It’s got some really good stories in between too, though they can also be rather hit & miss. An aspect I love about it too is how impactful Wolsey’s death ends up being.
Present Danger: That one is fun, I love how it’s basically everyone vs the deindum, a situation slipping more and more out of control, mixed with some neat stuff one the deindum’s whole temporal deal. It’s again a bit hit & miss, but it’s still a blast, and as the last anthology of the collection era, it does send it all off with a bang.
Welp. Far, far too many words later, and here we are!!! I love Benny a lot ngl, and I genuinely think that prose is the medium best suited for her. I have been rather disappointed with the more modern books, I find them far more bland than what I personally expect from Benny but ah well. Can’t always get everything.
And while it’s neither a book, nor even an official story in any mean, the fanfic “Sepelio” that’s an Hannibal au set in the Dellah era is great, and the benny story I have been enjoying the most lately. I would be remiss not to at least mention it!
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All Hail The King
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader
Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. I’m a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.
Word count: 5k
Author’s note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixie for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. ❤️ This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I don’t have it so here’s this gif instead.
The bar is humming with activity, but the table you’re nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.
You’ve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since you’re the designated driver this week. It doesn’t bother you, though— you’re just happy to be out with your friends.
Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, who’s sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.
“Hey Fish,” Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankie’s solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesn’t flinch. “How are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?”
You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.
“Jessica,” Frankie clears his throat. “They aren’t. We didn’t have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.”
Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankie’s shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.
“I’m sorry, Fish,” Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. “Her loss, brother.”
“Here here,” Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. “To the king!”
Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiago’s echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.
You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.
“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty,” you say, trying to figure out what they’re talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.
Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.
“Shut the fuck up, guys.” Frankie warns his friends. “Seriously.” Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle he’s holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .
Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.
“We call him the pussy eating king.”
You thank the powers above you weren’t mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even.
“So was this a self coronation or..” You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankie’s cheeks.
“It was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,” Benny says, turning to you. “Brianna?”
“Brenda,” Frankie sighs.
“So Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?” You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.
He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.
“Yeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or something” Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the group’s attention. “Come on Fish, don’t be so modest. You’re a beast in the sack, it’s a good thing!”
You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You remember why you weren’t there. It was because you couldn’t stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.
“Well, I can see why things with Brenda didn’t last,” you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. “But hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.”
Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.
“Yeah, yeah,” he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. “I need another drink.”
“Hey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?” Will calls over to his brother. You’re grateful for the change of subject. Frankie’s had enough torture for one night and you aren’t sure how many more details about Frankie’s sexual prowess your nether regions can take.
Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered you’re feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?
The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.
“What?” You don’t mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if he’s trying to suss out something you’re hiding.
“Nothing, nothing at all.” He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.
A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.
He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, who’s still talking about his upcoming fight.
The topic doesn’t come up again, thankfully, and you’ve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.
The car ride alone with him isn’t as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol he’s had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.
You can’t resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankie’s house.
“Your castle awaits, my liege,” you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.
Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.
“Goodnight, my queen,” he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.
The butterflies don’t tamp down until you’re securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.
That night was a month ago, which means it’s been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.
Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.
He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.
He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.
“Blegh,” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. “Screwdrivers taste awful.”
His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.
‘Get your shit together, he’s wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,’ you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.
He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.
“All set,” he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because you’re acting like a complete weirdo.
“Thank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.” You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.
“Any time,” he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.
Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He’s so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin.
Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You don’t miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.
It’s Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide you’re too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree.
You decide you’ll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.
The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devil’s advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.
Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.
It’s 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.
Benny and the Jets 🥊: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?
Ironhead 🦸🏼: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!
You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.
A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie you’ve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.
You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.
“I know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope it’s the kind you like.”
You accept the wine and look at the label. It’s a California Zinfandel. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite wine.
“I love it, thank you so much.” You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.
“Is Santiago on his way?” You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. “Do you want a glass? Or I have some beer if you’d prefer.”
“Beer is perfect, thanks,” he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. “Santiago said something came up and that he’s sorry.”
Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you don’t mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, you’re both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.
“I have no idea what to watch. Do you?”
“Want to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch we’re continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.”
You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.
Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.
Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but little does he know you’ve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.
“Does your back hurt? I can move,” you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.
“No, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.”
You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so he’s spread out on the couch. You’re settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.
This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All he’d have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and you’d be practically kissing.
Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankie’s chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.
A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.
You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize he’s been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.
He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.
You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankie’s mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.
Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouth– mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.
“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths.
You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re convinced this is a dream. That there’s no way you’re dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.
You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. You’ll take whatever this man gives you, even if it’s just this moment.
You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.
“Hey,” he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.
“I want you. I want this. Do you?”
You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. It’s just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. They’re just like him— strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.
“Yes,” you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.”
You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesn’t let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.
“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”
He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.
“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. “Will you let me make you feel good?”
You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramel– dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.
You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.
“I need you to say it out loud, honey,” he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.
“Yes, Francisco,” you breathe out. “Make me feel good.”
He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed.
“Wait,” you call out. He stops his movements immediately. “You first.”
Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt he’s wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms.
His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair, but your arms aren’t long enough to reach.
You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. It’s a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesn’t motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.
“Mmm, love how responsive you are already,” he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice he’s left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.
He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra you’re wearing.
“So fucking sexy,” he breathes.
He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.
“You better not hide this pretty pussy from me,” he says, licking his lips.
You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. He’s resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.
Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipation– your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.
He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help it– you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.
“You taste so fucking good. So wet for me,” he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. “Never want to stop.”
He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.
All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.
You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like it’s searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.
He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.
“Yes, please–“ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. He’s soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.
Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before it’s hitting you– thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You don’t even realize it, but you;’re shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.
He doesn’t stop until you’re flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.
“Wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” he says, panting the words into your mouth.
You moan and break the kiss.
“Want to take this to my room?”
He doesn’t reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.
He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. He’s momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.
Frankie is looking up at you as if he’s in awe, like he can’t believe you’re here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.
You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You can’t help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankie’s throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the mattress beneath him.
You’re bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. He’s babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. It’s a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that he’s letting you know how much he’s breaking for you.
Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.
“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. “I need to feel you.”
You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number you’ve done on him. He’s absolutely wrecked– brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.
You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.
You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.
“I’ve got you, baby boy,” you coo, sinking down on his length.
“Fuck,” he grits out between his teeth.
You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.
“So fucking big,” you pant out. “So good for me.”
It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.
Your pace is agonizingly slow. You’re trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesn’t last long– you can’t stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.
“So fucking perfect,” he pants out. “Wanna fuck you from behind.”
You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.
“We don’t have to,” he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern.
“No, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.”
You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when he’s no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.
Frankie can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace.
All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you can’t discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbs– then crashes.
His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.
“Fuck, baby,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Should have done this ages ago.”
You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom
A little while later, you’re both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and now– your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly.
In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.
The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.
Pope 🤦🏻♂️: 👑
Benny and the Jets 🥊: 👑
Ironhead 🦸🏼: 👑
Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.
The following weekend, it’s Santiago’s turn to be the designated driver. He’s parked outside of Frankie’s house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes.
“What the fuck are they doing in there?” He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but don’t say anything.
Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santi’s impatient honking over your moans.
And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you can’t find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well that’s just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.
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#frankie morales#frankie morales smut#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#francisco morales#francisco catfish morales#triple frontier#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#francisco morales pilot of my heart#all hail francisco morales pussy eating king
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out or in
this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe
pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish” Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader
wordcount: 2.5k
warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, both implications of sex and brief explicit sexual content, mostly fluff
summary: a collection of moments about always choosing the ones we love
>>
It’s a romantic little outing – a walk to the park, flowers tucked behind ears, a gazebo by the pond. Santiago looks good with flowers in his curls, and they stick well. He’s got that look in his eyes, the one that says he thinks of the two of you hung the stars, and his broad shoulders look void of weight in the evening sun.
Will can’t keep his hands off of you, which is strange, but not unwelcome. He keeps running his hand through your hair or pulling you into sudden hugs, and it makes Santi smile.
The three of you are waiting for Frankie and Ben to come, settling into the white benches and enjoying the dappled lighting that sways with the vines overhead. Your Ironhead practically pulls you into his lap as your other lover goes in search of ducklings. Watching him, Will kisses your temple, your cheek, the side of your neck.
You close your eyes, just for a moment. It’s mandatory, really, because these moments are few and far between. Soft noises from the nature around you, smells of flowers and the musk of your lover, and most of all, his open affection. When was the last time his confidence overrode his calculating brain?
When you open them again, a woman is walking by, chattering on her phone, and her heels slow when she catches sight of Santi.
The pillars of the gazebo shroud you from her, and Will holds you tight as you watch her hang up, a twitch in her hips. You miss her greeting, but not the way Santi turns towards her, his face polite and neutral.
“I’m just here with them,” he waves and points, and you see an incorrect realization on her face as she glances shrewdly. The two of you are wrapped up in each other, his hands wandering even still – she thinks she knows.
“So you’re the third wheel?” the woman all but purrs, eyes fluttering in a way that makes you roll your own. So fixed is she on the warm tone of his skin and the stubble across his jaw, that she misses both the darkness of his eyes, and approaching footsteps.
“Not at all,” his words are simple and you grin.
“Like hell you aren’t,” Benny says, slipping an arm around his Pope. They came up less than quietly, watching without your patient interest. Will huff’s a laugh, almost proud at the kiss and raised eyebrow his brother gives the woman, who’s stepping back, suddenly uncertain.
She turns to Frankie, mistakes his soft edges for vulnerability, and changes targets. Hes handsome as a warm fall walk, and she drinks him in. All shy backtracking and twirls of hair, she reaches for his arm, playing all the right cards for sympathy.
But his eyes, deep and brown are unwavering as he shifts away. You see his mouth move – a quiet nope, with a p that pops, and the both you and Ironhead shake with silent laughter.
No one explains as she sputters and spins, trying helplessly to say have a good day, and as she near runs away and you feel a little guilty.
Mostly, though, you feel lucky as you see your eager boys making their way over and loved as they’re already reaching for you.
“That was fun,” Will pulls Frankie close to replace your warmth. Arms around Santi's neck you laugh again, feeling matching rumbles at your front and back.
“We should go out more often,” Benny says, resting his chin atop your head. You can hear the mirth in his voice, but of all of them, he thrives in awkwardness the best.
“Great idea, Ben.” Frankie doesn’t even have to roll his eyes.
“It’s fun confusing people,” the blonde defends, pulling back to flap a hand. Of course he thinks so, and of course Catfish disagrees.
“As long as the people who aren’t confused are us,” Will catches Santi's eye, and you feel him rumble again, squeezing you.
“I agree.”
-
Will walks in to see you completely on top of Frankie, sleeping against his chest. It’s a welcome sight, after a long, long week, and his layers shed as Frankie beams at him. The smile is void of gloating or even teasing, filled only with a hard earned joy. He loves the moments you crash into him, drawing out the weight on his mind and replacing it with you.
“That seems a little selfish,” his watcher teases, his deep, dry voice making you stir a little.
Frankie pulls an understanding face and shifts, letting you slide between him and the back of the couch, opening up for the other man. Your eye peaks open long enough to see Will’s smile, before you feel him, warm and close.
He’s taller, but it’s a practiced fit, and the couch was bought specifically for all of their width and height.
The man beneath you let’s out a groaning breath, like the weight of one of his loves hadn’t been quite enough. Silence fills the air, thick and warm as cocoa on a chilly evening, the three of you taking slow, indulgent sips. Hands rub shoulders and slide over unwinding muscles before they still, thankful for the heartbeats just beneath the surface.
And then the moment slides away, as Frankie remembers a story from work – his excitement is contagious. His deep eyes are bright, the lilt of his voice exaggerated by the animation that fills him head to toe, and you climb over them to find a glass of water. You'd already heard the story, and you need to wake up for the evening.
Santi’s in the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket, and hes pulling you by the hip into his arms. His skin is cool from their air outside, and he seeks your warmth with playful pleading, rubbing his nose along your cheek, your neck, and blowing puffs into your hair. The squeaks you make only spur him, happy kisses following the pre-made path, and he laughs, really laughs, for no real reason.
“Come,” he says, after finding your lips once more, “it’s almost time.” And you wake fully, checking the clock. He’s right, and both of you rush back to the others.
Ben’s fight is on the screen, and your boys are sitting, telling you for the thousandth time how rude it is that they cut off spectators.
“I know, I know,” you shush Will with your mouth, a chaste, chiding kiss, and he softens, pulling you back down. The sleepy satisfaction is long gone, dissipated by his talk with Frankie, and their inevitable excitement as they traded bits of wisdom. Now, it’s time to watch his brother, and to feel the bones in your hand creak as Frankie winces at every punch.
The fight is a short one, and you’re almost glad you didn’t drive an hour for it – your sweet Benny hardly gives the other guy a chance. He blows a kiss at the camera, and Santi says, “Mine,” before sticking his tongue out.
“How do you know?” Frankie protests, reaching over to smack him.
“Hush, he’ll call in just a minute,” you scold, snipping a budding argument, and rolling your eyes. “You can ask him then, if you want.”
You were right – and he called you, probably well aware of the bickering he caused. Speakerphone is mandatory, as deep voices shout their approval.
“The kiss was for all of you,” he says. “Minus Will.” He rolls his eyes, as Frankie makes a triumphant noise.
Over the responsive banter you change the topic.
“How soon will you be home?”
“Why baby, the whole crew there, and you still miss me?” Tonight’s win had gone straight to his head.
Will appears behind you, rumbling, his hand sliding up you shirt in a single, fluid motion.
“Watch yourself,” he said, loud enough for the phone to catch it. “I’d say we’re doing just-"
“- Fine,” the others catch his drift, lowered eyelids and knowing smirks making their way around. Just as fluid, Frankie pulls at you, settling your core over his thigh, his dark eyes asking for permission. Denying him is unfathomable – their touches already perfectly placed and hot.
The gasp leaves your lips before you even think to stop it.
“Fuck,” Benny’s voice is lower, even through the phone. “Don’t you dare!” The command falls flat, his damage done. Bra shoved away, Will rolls a nipple between his fingers as Santi’s hand palms you through the fabric as best he can, always eager to join the torture.
“Hurry up then,” he adds, watching you grind and melt beneath them, knowing the other man is already regretting his words.
“No fair!” you hear the slam of his locker and grin, already too far gone to stop their antics.
Frankie coaxes you off his thigh, hands busy as he began to rid your of your clothes. You’re slick with want, holding whatever you can brace yourself against, as they lovingly remind him what he’s missing.
“Would you rather we let you listen, hot shot?” it’s both a taunt and an offer, and you see wide eyes and feel eager twitches.
There was a moment of silence, before Benny’s curse cracks into the air, needy and nearly breathless.
And you’re suddenly glad you got a nap in earlier. If the last five minutes are any indication, it’s going to be a long night.
-
“No, but thanks for checking again,” you say, trying not to sound sarcastic. Benny is using his best puppy eyes, even pulling down the thick scarf his mama gave him to pout at you.
“But I made us the coolest fort, you said so yourself!”
“My love, it’s cold.” You respond, kissing his surprisingly warm cheek. “The others have already tried.”
You wave at Will over his shoulder as he packs yet another snowball for their war. A hit to the back of the head is a fitting distraction, and Ben kisses you quickly before he runs off to his corner of the yard.
And as much fun as it could be to watch, you close the door to the freezing air, knowing if you don’t, the next one will be coming for you.
You end up by the window, catching glimpses through the thick white frost, as you Google new winter recipes. And you’re thoroughly wrapped up in a distraction when a hand slips into yours
“Oh, hello,” you grab at it, trying to warm the fingers between your palms. “Too cold for Catfish?”
He nods, sighing as you try to thaw him.
“Come,” you say, leading him to the kitchen. He’s like a bear, lumbering after you, thickened with winter layers, but with meek obedience and eyes filled with adoration.
“Cocoa, love?” it’s hardly a question.
“Please, Frankie?” He kisses you in confirmation, seemingly growing even lager as he glows with pride. No recipe you’ve ever found gets the spices as perfect as he can, and it’s his joy to brew if for you all.
Before, though he turns the kettle on, heating water for the bottles, knowing any moment what will happen. And he’s never wrong. The door opens with a gust of chill wind, making snowflakes cling to their winter beards.
Just as the hot water bags are filled, and the rest finds its way into a footpan, Santi trudges through the door, huffing with laughter but with spikes of pain shooting from his knees. You help him settle into cushions, resting his joints, as Will and Benny tumble in, shedding soaking layers and telling you the final battle.
Passing out steaming mugs you kiss their cheeks and they know the truth – adventures should be taken and fun should be had, but nowhere was better than right here with you.
-
It happens rarely: waking up perfectly encompassed by your loves. Someone’s elbow was always poking or beard would tickle, and the first to wake would inevitably wiggle and jostle limbs.
But when it does, it’s bliss.
Your tucked into Will’s side – his beard is soft and smells like books and clean linens and the way it feels when rain pours down after weeks of drought.
Frankie is behind him, pressing close, and Santi is near a second skin, he’s sandwiched you so tightly. You can the shape of Benny beyond Frankie's fluff of hair, and for once, you don’t feel the need to move. Deep breathes a contented mid-dream murmurs push away the reminder that one of you must leave – a least for long moments.
But then you notice the pace of the heart beneath your hand, and prepare yourself for the rub of his jaw along his temple. Your Will would never risk the movement of kissing you before he knew you were awake.
“Good morning,” your voice is barely audible, just for him.
“I love you,” his response is just as quiet, but equally filled with love.
Neither of you says anything else, just shifting ever-so-slightly to kiss each other, unable to resist. Then you settle again, cherishing the squeezes and pacified rumbles, and dreaming of drifting off again.
You know he won’t - can’t, with a stupid Saturday meeting on it’s way, but you wish he would. All of you hate when he’s robbed like this, hate that he has to count down the minutes and then untangle himself and climb away. Feeling his heart race pick up again, you know he’s anxious. It goes against his nature to disturb, to break a perfect moment.
“Stop thinking so loud.” Benny groans, quiet, but not quite so in-control. “Here.”
He flops, pawing the end table before finding Will’s phone and tossing it to him, before settling forward against Frankie again. The whole time his eyes barely opened more than a hair, awake exclusively for the greater good.
A small, conflicted noise grumbles in Will’s throat, but then, to your amazement, he frees a hand and begins to draft an excuse.
“Tell them it could be an email,” Santi’s voice is thick with sleep.
“Because it could be,” Frankie adds, reaching for the phone. His eyes are puffy, wincing at the brightness, but if Will doesn’t call off the meeting, someone has to. Huffing, the man beneath you snatches it back, making incomprehensible comments about how he’s the only one who knows what to say.
You shift to kiss him again, shocked in spite of yourself. All this time, he’s never called in sick, no matter how deeply he’s been tempted. But more proud than anything.
It’s a perfect morning – too good to spoil. He sends it and tosses his phone, satisfied sighs and sleepy high fives making him chuckle. And you pull the blankets back in place, tucking in the joy for a few hours more.
>>
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#triple frontier poly fic#poly frontier#will miller x reader#santiago garcia x reader#frankie morales x reader#benny miller x reader#smut#barely
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