#but feel free to ask more i love answering these!!
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not canon pet!au drabble/one shot.
simon needs to fix johnny's new toy
cw: overall theme of non-con, drugging, medical horror, at home do it yourself iud insertion, dark fic, dead dove do not eat, i'm being so fucking for real when i say simon literally inserts an iud into you himself
You hate to admit it, but Simon’s a good cook.
Everything he puts on your plate for every meal is fresh and cooked from scratch. Each night when he comes home from work, he’s always got a fresh cut of meat — turkey, chicken, beef — and the vegetables are newly bought, if not recently picked from his garden. The spicy aroma fills the house, calling both you and Johnny to the table before he even speaks, and each bite is as mouth watering as the last.
It is, perhaps, the only thing he knows how to do with love and care. You catch him cooking every now and then, and stick around to watch for a short moment as he carefully dices potatoes and slices meat. His touch is more tender than the flesh of the animals he butchers for a living, but you are quickly reminded how sharp his claws are the moment you’re seated at the table.
He won’t stop staring. Dark, endless eyes watch every single movement of yours meticulously, as if he’s waiting to pounce on prey. Instead of glancing at him, you try to distract yourself with Johnny’s chatter. He always seems to have something to say; something to share. It’s odd, for a man who’s trapped inside of the house all day, same as you, he seems to never run out of conversation topics. Yet his words become slurred. Or… no, is it your hearing? You’re underwater with clogged ears and heavy weights keeping your head under, muffling the world around you. Pressure builds on top of your chest, and instead of trying to listen to Johnny, you put all your effort towards breathing.
When your fork clatters on top of your plate, the clink echoes endlessly. It’s only then that you’re able to look at Simon — to come face to face with the monster who’s lured you once again.
“Bonnie?” Johnny asks, concern soaking your new name on his tongue.
Even if you could answer, you know better than to bother with an explanation. This feeling — this terrible, drowning sensation — is something you’re familiar with. You faced this very same demon your last night at work; the night Simon kidnapped you.
“Johnny,” Simon interrupts. He stands from his seat, food half eaten on the table. “Help me get your bitch to the bedroom.”
Nothing connects after that. Not the stale scent of blood that fills your nose, nor the floating feeling that lifts you up from the table and drags you elsewhere. You are not in your body. Not when you’re laid down on the bed. Not when your clothes are tugged off, leaving you bare to the brightness of the room. Something sears your eyes. Something bright and yellow, trained on you — blinding you. A specimen, ready to be torn apart. A toy, ready to be fixed.
You want to sleep. Sleep through the terrible rocking of your body and the twisting sensation that pulses inside of you. Something’s slipping inside of your cunt. It doesn’t hurt, and it doesn’t feel good, but you can’t make sense of it. You try to mumble something out — a plea to stop, that you can’t get pregnant — please, Johnny, you know what Simon said would happen to me if you got me pregnant — but it hardly forms on your lips before you’re choking on it.
Pain blossoms in a place you’ve never felt before. It’s deep, and cruel; unrelenting as it throbs and shoots throughout your pelvis. It steals what little breath you’re able to suck into your lungs, and tears prick the corner of your eyes as something pinches and radiates outwards. Whatever this is, it’s taking something from you. It’s taking, and taking, and it won’t stop.
Your hips buck upwards in retaliation, trying to free yourself from the pain, but it only gets worse. Something tears through you, and you cry out an animalistic wail. Your hands reach for your lower stomach where you paw at your skin as if you can rub away a pain as deep and evil as this. Like you’d claw through your own organs to get it to stop.
“Fuckin’ hell, Johnny, I told you to keep her still,” Simon barks.
Someone presses on your hips, forcing your body back on the bed, but that doesn’t stop the way your chest shudders as you hyperventilate. Warm breath fans across your face as heavy lips press gentle kisses over your cheeks. Salty tears stream out of your eyes and down the side of your head, pooling along the shell of your ear and soaking the comforter below you. A firm chest presses against yours, pinning you, forcing you to stay still as the pain continues, this time with fervor.
“Hey, hey, Bonnie, it’ll be fine. S’all gonna be okay. Just need ya to hold still for Simon. Please, don’t make this difficult. C’mon Bonnie, you don’t have to cry,” Johnny babbles at you. Each sentence is broken with a kiss, like he can smother away your discontent with whatever his interpretation of love is. “It’ll be fine, just- just stop moving. Don’t… don’t make me, Bonnie, I don’t wanna fight you. Stop it, please Bonnie. You’ll be fine. It’ll stop soon, just stop it.”
But it doesn’t. It continues. Skin ripping. Flesh peeling. Is this how the animals feel at Simon’s work? Torn apart. Ripped to shreds. Are you handled with the same care he uses when slaughtering creatures who don’t know any better? Is it easier for them than it is for you? Is this the same kindness he shows everything else?
Johnny is a liar. It’s not fine. It hurts. And hurts. And hurts. And then it aches.
Whatever Simon’s done to you, it’s finished, and it’s left you with a hole burning through your pelvis. You’ve never been so empty, so void of something like you are now. Johnny’s praises taste bitter as he kisses your lips now, warm hands wandering along your stomach. You’re certain he thinks it’s comforting. Loving, even. But it’s the opposite. It’s the painful reminder that while Simon takes, and takes, and takes, Johnny will always fill you whole with something stale and rotten.
“There,” Simon huffs. Normally, the sound of his boots stomping on the wood floors of the house makes your heart race, but you’re just glad he’s finished torturing you. “One week. You hear me, mutt?” He yanks on Johnny’s collar, forcing his face away from yours. “One week, and you can play with her all ya like.”
Johnny responds, but you don’t care to make sense of it. All you can do is lay there, flat on your back with your eyes closed, and pray. You’ve never been one for praying. God has never helped you before, and he certainly isn’t going to help you now, but you can at least curse the son of a bitch out while the blood spills out of you and stains the supple flesh of your thighs.
i wrote this in one go after work forgive any mistakes <3
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ The beginning.
Summary: Jay was your partner and future fiancé, everything was perfect, until one day his mother came to inform you that he had died in a car accident. What you didn't know was that he had actually been bitten by a vampire.
Gender: drama, fluff, love. — C/W: Arguments, blood, very explicit situations/events, etc..
W/c: +200. — A/N: A month? so fast? wow.
In the end, you were alone with a broken heart. You felt an intense pain in your chest, almost as if the color red from the pain illuminated your entire room.
It was a lovely morning, and the sun was shining radiantly. I was seated on the steps of my apartment building, listening to music and patiently awaiting the arrival of your boyfriend.
Several minutes passed since the last message he had sent you, a video telling you that it would take no more than 2 minutes due to the light traffic. You didn't attach enough importance to it, because you trusted him to be there, so you just answered him with an "okaaaay :)♡".
The day grew late, and the sun began its descent. Your sweat seemed to have dried, and your buttocks were numb from the long wait. For your part, you didn't know how to feel. It was strange not to have received a single message during that entire time, and your messages asking him if he was okay or if at least the two of you wouldn't go anymore seemed not to reach him.
→ April 14, 2024, 6:34 pm
Jayjay, my love. l'm very worried 'bout you. Please call me as soon as you get this message and the other ones, okay? I'm very scared:((
After that last message, you were again confident that everything would be fine. Maybe he had just gotten a flat tire and gone to the workshop, and his phone was dead, or maybe something had happened to his mother....you had made up so many ideas to avoid falling into "more negative" thoughts.
—Shit I'm so hungry —you said as you set your phone on the side of the couch—. Would a sandwich be... fine?
After you had created the worst monstrosity—a ham sandwich with yellow cheese and many fries inside—you sat down on the couch again, turned on the television, and carefully placed your soda on the floor.
—Still not know anything about him? —asked a female voice.
Turning slightly to the side, you saw what it was about Minjeong and sighed in relief.
—Yup, I haven't known anything in three weeks now —you answered as you closed your locker.
The young lady couldn't help but discreetly roll her eyes as she let out a soft sigh and gently shook her head. She then proceeded to gently caress a part of your forearm as the two of you made your way together towards the exit, where they would find their car slightly damp from the rain at that particular moment.
Upon entering the vehicle, the subsequent action taken—following the placement of your backpack between your feet—was to fasten your seatbelt. Upon perceiving the completion of the same action by the individual with red hair, a smile was directed towards her.
—I'll put on my headphones, won't you mind? —you asked.
—No, not at all —she answered as she began to drive away—. Distract yourself by creating fake scenarios with your music.
After hearing her laugh, you rolled your eyes in the same manner, laughing and giving her the middle finger. The whole way there, you stared out the window with the volume turned up as loud as it would go. Part of you felt sad because you didn’t know anything; you hadn’t seen your boyfriend or his family.
When you least expected it, Minjeong had already parked his car in front of your building. You turned on your phone to pause the music and remove your headphones. You were about to get out of the car when you felt the girl turn you and hug part of your body with her arms.
You remained still, as you did not completely comprehend the reason behind the embrace. Nevertheless, you reciprocated with your free hand, concealing a portion of your face in her neck and shedding a few tears. Although the two of you had been the closest of friends since your elementary school days, Minjeong had never been particularly fond of displays of affection. She was akin to a sibling to you, which is perhaps why you felt a sense of relief, even if it was fleeting.
—Please, try not to worry so much. I'm sure he is fine. Perhaps he has gone on another trip and is unable to inform you at the moment —she suggested.
—I-I know... but he doesn't even text me.. he doesn't even get my messages —you replied, pulling away from her.
You let out a final sigh as you caught a glimpse of her face for the last time, noticing a hint of worry etched across his features. Until that moment, you believed your sorrow was so profound that it had begun to affect those around you. With a heavy heart, you stepped out of her car, waving your hand in a farewell gesture before turning around and heading towards your apartment.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⸻ㅤ
As you ascended the final steps to your apartment, you experienced a surge of contentment, likely stemming from the comforting embrace and encouraging words of your close friend. However, your happiness was fleeting as a voice gradually emerged from the bottom of the stairs.
As you stood motionless, you held the key in the door lock. Even in a parallel universe, you would instantly recognize that voice. It belonged to the woman you deeply admired and respected—your boyfriend's mother, Jongseong.
—Isee you at last, boy —she answered with a ladino smile.
With a swift motion, you turned to face her, offering a warm and friendly smile. Discreetly, you kept your keys hidden within your closed fist. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ —Oh, Mrs. Park! I'm glad to see you. How are you d-
Your words were abruptly interrupted when that woman pulled out of her bag what appeared to be a luxurious handbag. A gift? For you? From her? It wasn't even your birthday. You stood still, unsure of how to react, unsure of whether to accept the bag or wait for her to say something more.
You took a small step back as she extended her hand, holding the expensive bag. You looked at the handbag and then at her for a moment.
—I.. don't understand. Why...? —you replied, with a puzzled expression and a slight tilt of your head. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ She let out an annoyed laugh and shook her head slightly. You knew this gift wasn't directly from her; it was from Jay.
—Look, M/N. I didn't come here because I like seeing you. I came here... —she sighed heavily— Because I know Jay would have loved to give you this.
—Would he have liked it? Did I miss something in the month I couldn't see him? D-did he go on another trip? Do you know where he is? —you asked, approaching her with concern.
—He died, M/N! —she exclaimed, furiously throwing the bag on the floor and glaring at you with fulminating eyes—. He died a month ago —she responded by gently running her hand across his forehead—. We found out that night! Apparently, he crashed on his way to your apartment, and as we were informed, the only things they found were his phone and that bag.
What just happened? What did you just say? That isn't true. It can't be true.
As you collapsed to the ground, a profound sense of weakness enveloped you, making it challenging to comprehend the gravity of her words. The surroundings gradually faded into a muted haze, and her voice became increasingly difficult to distinguish.
Amidst tears cascading like an unrestrained waterfall, you could discern her figure standing there, her gaze fixed upon you. What ultimately shattered you was her utterance, "I'm sorry. Now that you're aware, I hope you'll stop looking for him." With those words, she pivoted and commenced her descent down the steps.
Standing on the floor, you shed tears, bracing yourself with one hand on the floor—to avoid falling completely—and with the other on your chest, tightly clutching part of your shirt and the necklace he had given you when you turned eighteen.
The hours had passed since the moment you realized you would never again have the opportunity to be in the presence of the person you held the deepest affection for. If it were not for the intervention of your neighbors, who found you lying on the floor, you would not have entered your apartment carrying an expensive bag in your hand.
Honestly, you still didn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe anything. You felt as if you were trapped in an endless nightmare, unable to wake up. But it all came rushing back to reality as soon as you dropped the bag on the couch and headed to your room.
You had expected to shed tears throughout the night, or at least until a headache manifested—either from the strain on your facial muscles or dehydration, or perhaps a combination of both. However, your plan was unexpectedly disrupted when you heard your phone emit a sound. Upon checking, you discovered that it was an alarm you had previously set titled "Dinner with Jonggie!!♡." You promptly endeavored to deactivate the alarm.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[Video]
You couldn't finish the video; you just couldn't. Your heart burned again with intensity. You felt an intense pain in your chest, almost as if the crimson hue of pain lit up your entire room. You left the phone on the bed as you clasped your hands and glued them to your body, sinking into pain and tears.
As your cries and groans of discomfort filled the room, you felt a gentle tap on your head, which with each passing moment, made you increasingly drowsy. It was almost as if something were gently pressing down on your head, compelling you to act unconsciously.
"M/n..." a faint voice was heard, as was the case with Mrs. Park—indistinct, nearly impossible to comprehend as you drifted off to sleep.
Ddeonus/N: Oh my God, I know it took me too long to post this shit, but I honestly couldn't follow the story so I had to watch me again twilight. 🫦
#enhypen jay#jay x male reader#park jongseong#kpop x male reader#kpop imagines#male reader#kpop scenarios#enhypen x male reader#kpop fanfic#enhypen scenarios#Spotify#enhypen x gn reader
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Can you please do Sunno as a whining and scream mess? (Sorry if looks confused, english is not my first language and I'm using Google to translate this 😞)
Scream ┃K.SN
sunoo x reader(fem)
y/n punishing sunoo for flirting w another girl
smut! kissing, gauze masturbation, riding, whining/whimpering, slight dacryphillia, nicknames, slight dirty talk, edging, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, no pull out game, sub sunoo
wdct: 1k
ty for the request 💚
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Third Person POV~
"Fuck... No more, please..." Sunoo whines, arms pulling against their restraints as he squirmed against you. You were so amused by him. The way he writhes in pleasure everytime you touch him. The way he's begging to cum even though he knows the answer is no. It's so cute.
Your hand is wrapped tightly around Sunoo's cock, lube-soaked gauze wrapped around your hand to make it feel electrifying.
You've probably been edging him for ten minutes now, and every time he gets close, you stop touching him.
"You're such a good boy... So pretty like this.." You tease, rubbing your palm over his cockhead, the material of the gauze making him cry out, eyes glazed over with tears. "Shit, please.. Let me cum, please Y/n..." He's begging yet again, and this time he actually looks so pathetic that it almost hurts you to pull your hand away. "This is a punishment, darling.. You can beg all you want, but we play by my rules. Understand?"
He nods so quickly, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cries out of desperation. You pout, moving to straddle his lap, cupping his chin to tilt his gaze upwards towards yours. "Sunoo, don't cry, my love.. I promise you'll get to cum.. Okay?" You ask as he nods, his pretty pink lips quivering in a way that drove you crazy.
You tug on his hair, leaning in to kiss him as he kisses back eagerly. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding effortlessly against yours.
You reach down between yourself and Sunoo to take hold of his aching cock once more. You're stroking him slowly as you continue to press your lips against his. He's whining and whimpering against your lips.
When you finally pull away, pulling your hand off too, he glances up at you through heavy-lidded eyes. "Please.. Fuck me.. I wanna feel you.." He begs, and it's simply too cute to ignore.
"You want me to fuck you?.. Hm?.. Want me to sit on your pretty little cock and make you cum?" He moans from just your words, nodding eagerly. "Yes, please.." You smile at his answer, moving off of him as you untied the silk ties strapping his wrists to the headboard.
You then started to undress your lower half, taking off the miniskirt you were wearing, your underwear following almost immediately after.
Sunoo stares shamelessly, eyes flickering between you and your wetness.
You smiles straddling him once again, and this time he's able to touch you. His hands instantly find their way to your hips, pulling you closer.
"I promise you, if I ever see you flirting with some stupid bitch again... I'll edge you until your dick falls off.." Your words make him whimper, and he nods in understanding.
You then take hold of his length, positioning his tip at your hole as you slowly ease down on him. He lets out the most pitiful whine once you're all the way down, his hands gripping your hips tightly.
You leaned back, arms supporting you from behind as you moved your hips on him, the angle allowing his tip to hit the perfect spot.
"Fuck.." You hold back your moans, wanting to hear more of Sunoo than yourself as you rolled your hips against his.
He's completely enamored by your presence, with his hands finally being free, he's constantly touching you, his hands sliding under your shirt to grope your breasts, fingertips rolling and pinching your nipples.
His own sounds are loud, moaning, whining, and almost crying at the pleasure he feels.
The amount of time you spent edging him has made him so incredibly sensitive, and you riding him right now feels heavenly.
"Y/n... Baby, I need to cum.. Please." He's whining again, voice hoarse and slightly raspy from the constant straining, but you decide that it would be more fun to keep teasing him.
"You don't cum til I say so.." You order and Sunoo's near tears. "Please... I can't hold it in.."
He's holding your hips tighter, his own thrusts allowing him to meet you in the middle everytime you roll your hips down on him.
You slow your movements, pulling him from his impending orgasm as he lets put a strained cry.
"Don't cry, pretty... I promised you would cum.. Remember? Don't I always keep my promises?" You question as he nods, tears staining his cheeks.
Your hips eventually grow tired, so you sit up straight, gripping his shoulders for supporting as you moan against his ear. His hands are pushing your shirt upwards to allow him access to your chest. He's playing with one nipple, sucking on the other, and you can feel each of his moans vibrate through you.
Eventually your own climax is approaching, so you cup Sunoo's cheeks, making him look up at you. "Wanna cum?.. Wanna make a mess of me?" You tease, hips stuttering as you let out a strained moan. Sunoo nods eagerly at your question, still thrusting upwards to meet your grind.
"Cum for me.. Want you to fill me up like a good boy.. Hm?" It's like your words completely drive him over the edge. In an instant he's stilling your hips, holding you tightly against him as he thrusts into you a few more times before spilling inside you.
He paints your insides with his cum, stilling his hips as he moans, feeling totally fucked out.
You go back to moving your own hips, chasing your own orgasm as he moans loudly, feeling overstimulated.
When your orgasm finally hits you, you let out a loud moan, squirming on top of Sunoo as you ride out your orgasm.
Sunoo kisses you afterwards, breathing softly against your lips. "I promise I won't ever talk to another girl again.."
You smile at his words, giving him another short kiss. "Good.."
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#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard headcanons#enhypen hard thoughts#enha smut#sunoo smut#sunoo imagines#sunoo enhypen#sunoo hard thoughts#sunoo hard hours#sunoo headcanons#kim sunoo
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Only an Almost (XIV)
Chapter 14: Heartbreak
Hi! Here comes a new chapter!
Alright, buckle up! We’re up for a wild ride! We are reaching the heights of the angsty mess, from this chapter all the way to chapter 17. Is our girl going to be an asshole? Yes, I’m afraid she’s about to fuck up big time...
Apologies for all the damage that is about to be made in this chapter.
It’s also the first chapter I wrote for this fic! It all started with this mess…
I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!
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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU
Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!
Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.
Word Count : 3450
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist
It was 11pm, which was early for a night owl such as Andrew, but late for his friends. Neither Sam nor Daphne were nocturnal creatures, and so Andrew answered his phone in a hurry when Sam’s name appeared on the screen. Something had to be wrong. He suddenly wondered where he had put his car keys, in case he needed to leave in a hurry.
“Hello? Andy? It’s me. It’s Sam.”
“Yeah, I know, are you alright?” he asked with worry making his voice deeper than usual, pausing the tv-show he was watching, lounging on his comfortable sofa.
“Yeah, yeah…”
“It’s 11pm, is there something wrong? Is Daphne okay?”
“What? Oh, no! Don’t worry, we’re both fine!”
Andrew heaved a relieved sigh.
“God, don’t scare the shit out of me like that ever again…”
“Did I wake you? I thought you never went to sleep before dawn.”
“Vampires tend to do that indeed.”
“Whose blood did you drink this week?”
Andrew wanted to answer, but he heard Daphne pestering Sam about not having much time, and he merely frowned instead.
“Right… sorry, darling…” Sam mumbled through the phone. “Are you alone, Andy?”
“Erm… yes…?”
“Okay, erm… it’s… it’s about Y/N.”
Andrew sat straighter this time.
“Y/N? Is she okay? Did something happen?”
“No, no… I mean… she’s fine, but…”
“For fuck’s sake, Sam! Spit it out! What’s going on?”
“Look I… I know that you said that I couldn’t tell Daphne about you and Y/N… but Y/N told her, so we’ve talked about you two together…”
Andrew rolled his eyes, lying back down, resting his head on the armrest of the couch.
“It’s alright, Sam… I knew you’d break it to her sooner or later anyway.”
“No, Andy… look… have you talked to Y/N lately?”
Andrew frowned.
“Erm… I don’t know… about… three days ago. Why?”
“I think you should talk to her.”
“Why? Sam, what is it?”
There was a short silence, while the couple exchanged a glance, no doubt.
“Daphne thinks she might take a terrible decision,” Sam answered.
“What kind of decision? What are you talking about?”
Andrew was growing annoyed at this game of riddles. If something was wrong, he ought to know what it was…
But even if he insisted some more, Sam refused to speak.
“Just… call her, and tell her you love her. Tell her to choose you.”
“’Choose’ me? What do you mean?”
“Just… do it tomorrow, will you?”
“Alright, alright. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“Good… good…”
When he hung up, Andrew stared at the ceiling for a while.
Choose me?
Andrew didn’t need to call you the next day. You were the one to call, and ask him if he was free tonight. You didn’t offer an activity, like you usually would: a movie on Netflix, the cinema, a walk, going to the beach, eating together… There was little ambiguity to the reason behind your demand, and Andrew wasn’t sure whether he was flattered or vexed by it.
He warned you that he wanted to talk to you about something tonight though, and you agreed. You had something to ‘discuss’ with him too. His heart dropped as you spoke those words through the phone. It ought to be some kind of bad news. Or maybe not. Maybe he was reading too much into this, and you meant… to talk about the upcoming wedding, or your job, or… something else entirely. He wondered if you knew that he meant to tell you that he felt more for you than what he had let on.
He parked his car in front of your house, but didn’t climb out just yet. First, he ran through his speech one last time.
I know that you are not looking for a relationship at the moment. But I want more than just sex when it comes to you. To us. Our arrangement can’t go on like this. Again, I understand that you are not in a position now where you want to be in a relationship. And that’s okay. If you tell me that you could give us a chance, I will wait for you. I’ll wait until you’re ready, until your job is more stable and you’ve figured things out in your life. I’ll wait until you want a relationship with me. I have feelings for you, feelings that go beyond a casual fling. And that’s the reason why I’m asking you now to give me a chance. To give us a proper chance…
No l-word yet, you might freak out if he used it. But this speech seemed good enough. Short, to the point. He had written six versions of it this morning.
He took a deep breath, before finally climbing out of his car and walking up to your house.
You were quick to unlock your door and welcome him in. You looked lovely tonight. But then, you were always beautiful…
You went through some meaningless chit-chat while Andrew took off his coat and shoes and followed you down the hall to your kitchen.
You offered him tea without asking if he wanted one. It was late afternoon, but not quite dinner time yet. He could have used some alcohol, but it would have been impolite to ask for some, so he thanked you when you handed him his favourite mug with two teabags plunged in warm water. He leaned against your kitchen counter, his back to your tiny window and your sink while you were facing him, a couple of steps away.
“You… you wanted us to talk about something,” Andrew reminded you, taking a sip of the warm beverage. “And I wanted to talk to you too, so… who should start?”
You were growing nervous, the signs were obvious. In your modern kitchen, there was a window above the sink that let in some golden light. The photons embraced your form, in a way that made Andrew’s heart skip a few beats.
You pushed back some hair behind your ear, pulled on the sleeves of your jumper. Andrew frowned at the sight.
“You’re alright? I can start…”
“No, I… I reckon I should start.”
“Okay.”
He was nervous beyond reason and measure. Andrew dried his clammy palms on his jeans, tried to breathe deeply through his nose, but his heart kept on pounding and his stomach was turning into knots…
You stared at each other for a moment, him expectant and you hesitant. He raised an eyebrow as a silent encouragement for you to speak, but you merely bit on your lower lip.
But then you heaved a sigh, crossed the distance between your bodies in a hurry. Andrew barely had time to blink, and you had grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down to you while you rose to your tiptoes so you could slam your lips to his. But kissing you was a habit by now, and a delicious one too. Andrew’s body was reacting on instinct as he kissed you back, messy and passionate and breathtaking. Your teeth bumped into his in your passion, but he didn’t mind. It was easy to deepen the kiss instead, cradle your face in his hands while you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, always closer.
You were making his brain short-circuit, despite the important talk he wanted to have with you. You were everywhere, blurring his senses, making all traces of reason disappear…
Only when he felt your fingers travel down his chest and towards his belt did he stop you, pulling away.
“Wait, wait… stop…”
You immediately took a step back, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“You’re okay?”
“Yeah… yeah… I… look, we… We wanted to talk, like… I think we should, erm, talk before we…”
“Or we can have sex, and talk after that.”
“Is that wise?”
“Do we really need to be wise?”
It was tempting. Too tempting to resist. God, he couldn’t think about anything else but your lips, how inviting they looked, how he wanted to kiss your neck too, he could feel his fingers tickle at the thought of touching all these places of your body, entire landscapes of bare skin…
He blinked a couple of times, struggled to swallow, trying to calm down. But blood was pulsing in his ears, and when he tried to remember his carefully-crafted speech, he couldn’t remember a word…
Fuck all of this…
“Alright,” he nodded. “But we talk tonight… cause it’s important…”
“Deal. Deal. Can I kiss you now?”
“Yes… God, yes, please… please, kiss me…”
You were back in his arms in a second, hands in his hair at first, while his travelled along your frame, from chest to hips and arse, feeling your shape through your clothes. You detached your lips from his to take his hand and guide him to your bedroom.
“We should get dressed to talk,” Andrew proposed, his breathing finally settling back into a regular rhythm.
He threw his condom away in the tiny bean next to the door of your bathroom. He grabbed his underwear as he walked back to your bed and handed you your large jumper.
“You’re too beautiful not to be distracting,” he chuckled, only half-joking, while you put on the piece of garment he was giving you.
He noticed how you looked away, how you seemed uncomfortable, all of a sudden. Instead of joining you in bed once more, Andrew sat down on the edge of the mattress, right next to you.
“So… who should begin?” he asked, voice soft and a little timid. “I… like… actually, I think I should…”
“Andy, I… I think you should get dressed.”
He frowned at that remark, or rather… he frowned at the tone you used. Cold and distant, whispered, and your eyes were still fleeing his.
“Why? Am I distracting too?” he asked with a charming smile, forcing a chuckle out. But you didn’t laugh, merely brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.
Andrew’s nervous smile soon crumbled.
“Right,” he let out in a breath, blushing hard now, heart racing.
He grabbed his undershirt, slowly put it on while trying to swallow back the lump in his throat.
“Look, I… We should talk about… this arrangement of ours…” he started, but you interrupted him, blurting out words he wasn’t expecting so fast he second-guessed if he had heard you right.
“We need to stop sleeping together.”
He was half-bent to grab his pants when you spoke. He froze, looking up at you, cursing at his long hair when it fell before his eyes and hid you away. He stood back up in a jolt.
“What?”
“We… we need to stop this arrangement. Things have changed.”
And all of a sudden there was hope again, brighter than a sun and blinding every bit of reason in him… And he fell for it. No matter the odds, he fell for it, flew straight to it like a moth ready to be burned at the pyre of your flames…
“Right… things have changed for me too. So, actually, I do think that we need to change things between us…”
“I have a date next week.”
He froze again. Stared at you, too stunned to say a thing, too stunned to protest or ask any question or even comprehend what you were saying.
“I… I have a date with a coworker, Maggie. Next week. So… we should stop this… We said we would if we wanted to try something with someone else…”
A date? Next week? Maggie?
You… you wanted to date again… just… not him…
“But… we’ve just had sex,” breathed Andrew.
It sounded stupid and he knew it, and yet these were the only words he could summon now. The first that came to mind, the only protest he could find.
There were too many emotions all at once. It felt… like falling… falling forever… like the ground being stolen from under his feet. He had no air left in his lungs, and he had forgotten how to breathe.
“Yeah… it wasn’t planned. But I… I just… Maybe I shouldn’t have done that…”
His lip trembled, but his cheeks were still dry.
You were regretting him now?
“I think I just… wanted one last moment with you. Before we’d stop and I would date someone else.”
“So… you… you have a date?”
“Yes, I have a date with Maggie.”
“What do you mean, you have a date with Maggie? Who the fuck is Maggie?”
Andrew stared at you as he was about to cry, and he couldn’t help it. He blinked tears away, but they lingered at the edges of his eyes, ready to fall at your words.
“She’s nice. She works at HR, she’s a secretary. She asked me out, and… I don’t know, I said yes. So… I think we should stop this arrangement.”
“Oh…”
At long last, the information was being recorded in his brain. Andrew shook himself back to earth, turned around, fleeing you and your beautiful eyes, hurrying to put his trousers back on. He almost fell in the process, already looking for his shirt. He felt so exposed like this, so vulnerable, so flawed…
You were going on a date… with someone else… because you didn’t want to date him… he was the fucking problem. He was all along…
“I just… it was… good.”
He nodded, but didn’t let out a sound.
He couldn’t look at you. He would start crying if he did. He needed to run away as fast as he could…
“And she’s nice, you know? And… just… easy. Not like, easy to sleep with, but…”
“I understand.”
Of course, he did. Same argument all over again. And he couldn’t blame you, how could he?
But what if he dropped everything? What if he stopped touring? Stopped the whole music thing?
He thought about what you looked like right now, perfect and dishevelled and still gently glowing after the efforts of love-making. Absolutely perfect. Yeah… yeah… You deserved better than him, no matter the touring or the staying…
“Andy… are you angry?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t start acknowledging his feelings now. He would start crying if he did.
Where the fuck was his sock?
“I loved the nights we had together,” you went on, apparently unaware of the daggers each of your words planted through his heart, and for the first time in the long years the two of you had known each other, he wanted to stop hearing your voice.
You seemed to need to fill up the silence that Andrew was trying to maintain. Perhaps it was a way to reach out, perhaps it was a way to keep him at bay. He wasn’t certain about that.
“It was nice.”
Where was that fucking sock?!
“Andy?”
He put on his jumper, abandoning the thought of his black sock. He couldn’t lose any more time, he couldn’t breathe properly anymore…
“You’re okay? Can you say something?”
Silence. Only the rubbing of fabric against fabric as Andrew was getting ready to leave. He only had to grab his shoes and jacket in your hallway.
“Andy, wait!”
But he was already outside of your bedroom.
“You can’t be mad at me! We agreed about this, Andy! We agreed that… that… this was nothing but sex! It didn’t mean anything.”
He was blinded by tears when he reached for your doorknob, unlocking the door without seeing the keys he was turning in the lock.
“Andy! Where are you going? Stop! We need to talk about this!”
He shrugged you off when you reached for him.
“Andy!”
But then he was shutting the door behind him, his movement so harsh it shook the doorframe. He hurried to his car while he dried his eyes, refusing to crumble now, in the alley leading to your house.
He drove blindly, unaware of a destination, of a will behind the turns he took and the roads he chose. The words kept ringing in his ears, he couldn’t shut them out, they played on repeat in his busy mind…
This was nothing but sex.
It didn’t mean anything.
Did it not? The way you touched him, the way you kissed him, the way you held him… did it not mean something?!
His hold tightened on the wheel. His jaw clenched until it was painful, until he could hear it.
Nothing. The tenderness in your touch, the fondness in your gaze, the sighs on your lips. The way you held him after it was done, like you needed him to land again gently on the ground, like you held onto a dream before it faded. How you stared into his soul when you connected in the most intimate way possible. How you laughed together until none of you could breathe, how you talked for hours about the most meaningless things and the most intimate parts of your lives. How you let him be yours, how you almost let yourself be his…
Only an almost…
He parked the car before a house he had always called home, and it was only then that he realised where he was. He stared at the familiar door of his parents’ house, the curtains behind the windows, the light that came through them.
So, you had let him love you, and it meant nothing at all?
He turned off the engines, stared at the house for a suspended moment. What would he do now? He couldn’t possibly face you again after this. He was about to lose you for good; because after having a taste of what loving you felt like, he couldn’t go back to being a mere friend. No… no, he wasn’t strong enough for that. For seeing you happy with someone else, knowing that you held him close for a moment only to let him go, because he wasn’t enough.
He picked up his phone, ready to do something stupid, something he would regret the second his thumb would press send. He typed the text under your name.
If I gave up on touring, if I stayed home… would you give me a chance? Would I be enough if I weren’t just a ghost?
He heaved a sigh, resting his head against his seat, head tilted upwards in his exhale. He blinked tears away, staring at the dark ceiling of his car.
Did you really feel nothing now? Did it not hurt at all for you? Not even a little bit? Not at all?
Andrew didn’t press send. He deleted the text, opened the door, climbed out of the car and into the street bathed in an inky darkness and orange streetlights. His feet guided him to the safest place on Earth while he tugged his phone into his pocket. His right foot was hurting in his shoe without a sock on. He didn’t even notice.
It took his mother a moment to open the door, nothing surprising at this hour. She saw him through the glass of the backdoor, and her eyes grew round. Andrew finally noticed he was crying.
The door opened in a hurry, bumping into Raine’s foot in the process.
“Andy? Honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
His lower lip trembled as he stared at his mother, hands digging further into his pockets, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His throat was too tight to speak.
“Honey, what’s wrong? Tell me. Tell me what’s wrong?”
She narrowed her eyes a little as she guessed, aiming straight for his heart.
“Is it Y/N?”
He opened his mouth to answer but all that he could let out was a sob. His legs were shaking, he could feel all of his strength leaving his body. He barely registered his own moevements as he bent into his mother’s arms, folding around her frame.
“Oh, Andy… here, it’s alright. It’s gonna be okay, darling. It’s okay. I’m here, I’m here…”
She rubbed his back, in this soothing movement that had never failed to appease him ever since he was a child. His voice was a hoarse whisper when he let out the most painful words he had ever pronounced.
“She doesn’t love me, mom. She doesn’t feel anything… What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do without her?”
She let him cry for a moment longer, his father calling from the living room to know who was at the door. Raine merely answered with her son’s name, and gently pushed him upwards so he would stand straighter again.
“Well, for a start, I’m going to make you a cup of tea, with a lot of honey. And then, we’ll figure out the rest.”
#hozier#andrew hozier byrne#the hoziest#hozier x reader#hozier x you#hozier x y/n#hozier x fem!reader#hozier fanfiction#hozier fanfic#hozier series#series#fanfiction#fanfic#writing
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Babes, Okay, Cheat fic idea and guess what....I use my ex's actual name cause he was honestly a jerk on the brink of being a dick.
The plot twist is that this cheat fic is more like a revenge fic in a way cause- Well, just read it, it's better than explaining it 😅 the member I used is also a mystery and I gave Mn arm tats cause it's a weakness of mine.
Specifically for @succubus-hansol because filth. This smut is filthy and messy.
Blogs: @belladonna6-6-6 @heartbinn @leezanetheofficial @yongbokkk @michelle4eve @dontwannaexsist (Imk if I forgot you or you want to be added.
You were none the wiser about what your boyfriend was doing. You loved Shawn and he loved you, you trusted him and never saw him badly, he was the sweetest.
You didn't suspect the new cologne on him, the new hoodie, bruises, new necklaces, hiding his phone, elated attitude when he visited you, giving you vague answers when you ask where he's going....
Wait...
You didn't give him those things and his recent hiding from you is suspicious. How have you not looked into it sooner? Especially when he use to shrug when you took his phone, now he makes up excuses as to getting it out of your hand.
"Hey, where you going?" "Um...my mom needs my to help in her garden. I'll be back later." Okay, that's suspicious. "Isn't your car with your brother?" "Oh, I'm taking an uber." "Oh, okay. Love you!" You yell but he's already out the door. That's what tipped you off, first he was wearing an unbuttoned dress shirt and loose fitting slacks and boots. Second, he hates getting dirty, he doesn't do anything that gets him or his hands dirty.
When he came home hours later, he was tipsy, swaying everywhere and tripping over his feet before collapsing onto the couch and you watched from the dining table.
His phone ends up on the floor and you take the chance to check it. You two shouldn't hide things from each other but he does and you can't help but to listen to the devil on your shoulder, while your angel is trying to get you to trust Shawn but all you do is block it out.
You pick up his phone and unlock it, surprisingly it's the same passcode as always and yet he keeps it from you. Opening his app history, you see his messages and see that he's texting someone with the cliche contact name of "Doordash". Did he really think that you'd think the app itself was texting him?
Doordash: You just left and I already miss you 🥺
Doordash: When can we meet up again?
Doordash: I'm free tomorrow, wanna meet up at the convenience store next to my place?
Is he...seeing someone behind your back? Clearly this person doesn't know about you like you didn't know about him.
Scrolling through other messages, your chest tightens when you check a chat and realize that's it's yours and he fucking named you "Grubhub".
There's other contacts and fake names that haven't had any interactions in years, you and "Doordash" are the only ones minus his family members.
You pull out your phone and open your uber that you shared with him. Last ride on your account was surprisingly thirty minutes away. Closing out of the app and opening your contacts, you make a new one and save the "Doordash" number before going back to the other persons number.
After forever of texting Shawn, you know how to play the part.
You: Of course ❤️ I'm free as well, what time?
Doordash: Five okay with you? Wanna take you out before taking you to my bed. 😏
Damn, whoever this was is one smooth motherfucker.
You: Oh I can't wait 😩 See you then 😘
You delete the messages on your end then put the phone back with Shawn and leave yourself a reminder of what you just committed to.
What's shocking is you don't really feel hurt that he's been lying to you. Maybe a little but honestly you think you'll survive without Shawn.
When your reminder went off, Shawn was passed out in bed still. He woke up on the couch, hungover and in pain, so he was sleeping the previous night off.
"Mn, where you going?" He mumbled when he heard you digging through your closet. "Boss called me in for a little bit for a staff meeting and I need to pick up my paycheck. Won't be gone long." "Mmm okay." He hums as he stretches before settling and promptly passing out.
Leaving the bedroom with jeans and a grey t-shirt hoodie with the sleeves rolled up, showing the black ink chinese dragon wrapped around your right forearm and ivy vines wrapped around your left.
You grab a white cap and your keys, slipping on your shoes then heading out the door. The drive is short and you have to park across the street but looking around, you don't see anyone possibly looking for someone else until ten minutes after the set time.
A guy wearing all black walked to the door of the convenience store and leaned against the wall next to it, checking his phone and then turning his head back and forth, this has to be him.
Turning off your car, you get out quickly then cross the street, leaning on the other side of the door. You wait a couple minutes, glancing at him a couple times before the bell of the store rings. "Excuse me, you both are loitering. Either come in and get something or leave." The store owner scolds and you went to speak but the other spoke first. "Sorry, Ma'am, I'm just waiting for my boyfriend-" You quickly jump in, knowing she won't take that as an excuse. "No problem, Ma'am, we'll get out of your hair."
You give the other a tight lipped smile and walk over to him. "Sorry, come on." He surprisingly follows you to the side of the shop and you both find a bench. "Um, so why'd you do that? I was actually waiting for someone." "Sorry, again. Who were you waiting for?" "My boyfriend. His name is Shawn. I really should at least go back, at least nearby so he can find me."
He goes to stand but you stop him. "So you're Doordash?" "I- Excuse me?" Sighing, you rub your eyes and lean back. "Uh, okay...Shawn wasn't the one that messaged you to meet him here. It was me. He's also my boyfriend..." "What? No, Shawn wouldn't do that to me." "I thought the same thing. He told me last night he was going to help his mom in the garden." He sat up and looked at you almost in realization. "When he left my place he said he needed to get home to take care of his mom cause she was sick." "He came home tipsy last night." "We...We drank last night, how the fuck didn't I make that connection?" He berates himself and slouches back against the bench.
You both stare at the road ahead of you before you speak up. "Well...I'm Mn. What's your actually name Mister Doordash?" "Doordash?" You snicker at his confused face, thinking about it he is really cute. "Shawn named you Doordash in his phone. I was Grubhub." "That's so dumb." "That's what I said!" You laughed and a small smile graces his face. "I'm Chris or Chan. Guess it's...nice to meet you? I don't know." "I don't know either."
You both stare at the road again but you turn to look at Chan. He really did look cute, you guess Shawn can choose good men. He has a good looking face, fluffy hair peaking out of the beanie he wore, and you couldn't help but take in every detail, including how soft his lips looked, then you realized they were moving.
"Your ink looks cool." "Huh?" You blink, spaced out for a moment. "Your tats, they look really cool." "Oh, thanks." "So...Since we're both currently ghosting Shawn, wanna go get something to eat? It's better than sitting here and honestly I don't want to go home yet." You notice he's looking down at his fidgeting hands and glancing at your arms.
"Yeah, beats failing to try and get back at him and not coming up with anything." Honestly, since looking through his phone, the devil on your shoulder has taken the reins and you honestly wouldn't mind getting back at Shawn by using Chan.
"Can I be straight with you?" "Um, I think that'd still make you gay." You shake your head with a smirk as you laugh, throwing your head back. "Oh, you got jokes, huh?" He lets out a laugh and it's clear that the awkwardness is gone.
"I meant, smartass, can I be honest with you?" He giggles and nods. "Yeah." "We go get food, I pay, and then we get back at Shawn." "We?" You hum and stand up. "Food first, honestly I'm really hungry. I'll tell you then, yeah?" He sits up, looking up at you and then sighing and standing. "Yeah, okay. You will pay, right? Shawn makes me pay." "I always pay." "Okay then."
He actually takes you to Changbin's restaurant, his best friend. A homey bistro Chan helped him make a reality. "Who's this?" Changbin asked when Chan brought you to the bar in front of the open kitchen. "Funny story, actually. Mn, this is Changbin. Changbin, this is Mn, Shawn's boyfriend." Changbin choked on the water he was sipping and almost dropped his cup.
"You're joking." Chan sighs and sits down, you sitting next to him. "Nope. Apparently we were secrets, even in his phone." "Ooh, what were your names?" Changbin has heard of fast food contact names but has never heard it in person so he was eager to hear as he leaned on the bar in front of him. "Doordash." Chan answered and you followed with, "Grubhub."
Changbin grimaces and whistles lowly. "That's sucks. Anyways, whatcha want to eat?" Chan orders his and you get the same thing, not really sure what to get since his friend's menu looked really good.
When he delivered your food, Chan immediately started eating but you messed with your fries. "Hey, daydreamer, you okay?" Changbin teases when he returned from another customer. "Oh, yeah." "Thought you were super stunned by your food but you haven't even eaten anything." "Sorry, just never been cheated on and I feel like I should be upset. I mean I am but I also don't care." "People react differently. Honestly, if I was you I'd get revenge sex." Chan choked on his soda, couching and gasping and you reach over and pat his back.
"Ch-Changbin!" "What? That's just me." He holds his hands up in surrender. "I like you...funnily enough, I've actually been thinking the same thing." "Seriously?" Chan cleans up the soda he spilled and Changbin lowers his hands. "Yeah."
Chan didn't know how to answer, he just looked away and this time it was him staring at his fries. "Well, sleeping with other people wouldn't really be revenge but I guess-" "Dude, of course it's not revenge. I meant you and Mn. I-I mean if you want, y'know." Then he glances at you. "He's not bad looking, if you don't take him I will." You chuckle shyly while finally eating your fries. "Plus, you do have a thing for tat-" "Changbin! Please...I love you, mate, but shut up." "Dude, don't yell at me, you literally look like you brought him on a date."
He suddenly looks around, an older couple in a booth, a younger couple a couple seats down from you at the bar, and a teen on a laptop with headphones on at a table near the window. Looking at you, he smiles sheepishly. "Sorry." "It's okay. Also wouldn't mind getting revenge with you." "Really?" "Yeah." You smile, looking down at the counter, glancing at Chan's friend then back to Chan. "Shawn is good a picking the cute ones."
He sighs, a shy grin on his face as he rests his elbows on the counter and covers his face. "He flusters easily, doesn't he?" "He's usually confident and flirty, this is a first." "Oh really?" Changbin snickers when you lean over to Chan and he doesn't notice. "Chan?" He uncovers his face to look at Changbin but jumps when he sees your smirking face, dropping his hands onto the counter with a small slap as he leans away, hiding his smile in his shoulder as he completely blocks the two of you out.
"You both are jerks." You lean back to your seat with a soft chuckle and watch Chan straighten back up. "Are you serious though?" "I'm not usually one to sleep with people I just met but yeah, I am." Suddenly Changbin is harshly setting down his towel on the counter and leaving from behind the bar and coming over to Chan, pushing him out of his chair then pushing you out of yours.
"For two people who just met, there's a lot of tension so go take care of it, lunch is on me, go, go, go." "Wait, I said I'd pay though." "Don't fight with Changbin, if he says it's on him, it's on him, I've tried." Chan answers you as his friend shoves you out.
"Go, forget Shawn, have fun, I don't know." He pushes you out the door and then shrugs at the end of his sentence. "I swear, why am I friends with him?" "I heard that!" He yelled from the other side of the door.
Standing there awkwardly, you put your hands in your pockets and look down at the sidewalk. "Um, we don't have to at this moment...we could just watch a movie if that's okay." Maybe a movie could relax your nerves a little. "Yeah, that's okay." He smiles and steps away with you following, taking you to his place which is surprisingly a block away.
His apartment was cozy, not too many decorations but enough to show his personality and what he likes. "It not much but it's mine." is what he said when the both of you entered. "It's nice." You replied.
Now you sat on his couch, he sat cross legged on one side and you were stretched out on the other, arms crossed lazily on your stomach. It was a bit awkward, just sitting there in silence but it was okay.
Chan suddenly moved to sit closer to you and you glance at him from your peripheral. "How long had you been with Shawn?" "Mmm a year?" "Damn..." "What?" "He was with you before me. Six months." You shake your head, honestly astonished with this information.
Bringing up his knees, you saw his hand reach out to your leg before it stopped and his arm wrapped around his legs. Bringing a knee up, your thigh moved closer to him and you readjust, an arm going over the back of the couch, and he moved slowly to mess with the threads of your ripped jeans, turning his head only slightly but mostly hiding his face in his knees.
He slowly moves from the threads to the edge of the rip and then his fingers slip into the rips, fingers soft on the small exposure of your thigh.
Hesitantly, you take his hand into yours, just holding it but he tightens the hold slightly and pulls it towards him while crossing his legs and holding it in his lap, not even realizing he's practically encased himself with your arms in front of him and behind him.
His fingers are light while tracing over the head of your tattooed dragon, tracing its body and turning your arm to trace the lightning around its body. You stare at the side of his head, watching his eyes take in the details of the ink.
For a moment, you get lost in his beautiful features. You suddenly act on impulse, his hands moving from your arm when you raise your hand to his chin and turned him towards you. "You trapped yourself." You said softly and his eyes move around rapidly and suddenly realize where he is. "O-Oh, sorry." "You really do like people with ink, don't you?" "Yeah. I-I don't know why...just looks cool."
Tilting your head, you move forward and kiss his cheek, then his jaw, and when he doesn't pull away you move under his jaw, your kisses were soft and were barely there.
He inhaled sharply when you pressed your lips under his jaw, specifically under his ear, and you graze your teeth over the spot to get his reaction, a barely audible whine, before biting and sucking. Biting his lip, he lets out a soft moan and automatically tilts his head to give you more room and you move your hand from holding his chin to under the other side of his jaw and hold him where he was.
Attacking more of his neck, his noises were soft and held back as he kept his mouth shut, his hand moving to your knee, nails digging into your knees and causing a dull pain but your jeans lessen it.
Your hand moves to his thigh as you move back on the couch, getting closer and pulling his thigh towards you which makes the male move, uncrossing his legs and moving just as close.
Without thinking, your left hand still on the back of the couch moves to the back of his head, tangling your fingers into his hair then pull him back. That finally got a noise out of him, his lips parting and letting out a soft moan as he turns his head slightly towards you, lips still parted as his chest heaves out the soft pants he's panting out. His eyes wide and glancing at your lips, shining with spit from your recent attack.
You lean forward slowly, tilting your head and your lips barely touch before one of your phones is ringing. Pulling away, you look towards the sound and find your phone on the coffee table, Shawn's contact on the screen.
Looking back to Chan, he nods his head and you let go of his hair, leaning forward and picking your phone up before answering it bringing it to your ear at the same time Chan sits up, pushing you against the back of the couch and you watch as he throws his leg over your spread legs and sits on your lap.
"Oh-" "Mn? You okay, you've been gone for ages." You put the phone on speaker and hold it away from yourself as Chan places his left hand on your neck and his right on your bicep then leans into your neck, returning the marks that you gave him. "Ah~ Yeah, I'm okay, did you need something?" "No, just miss you. Thought it was just a staff meeting and getting your check?" "I-It was, boss kept me longer. He promoted me." "That's amazing!" That promotion was two weeks ago. "So you'll be home soon?" "Yeah, I should be. M-Mom asked me to stop and pick up dog food for Brexit." "Okay...Well, hurt back, yeah?" "I will." "Okay. See you soon, Mn." "You too, bye Shawn."
You hang up, tossing your phone onto the floor softly before placing your hands on Chan's thighs and turning to the left, laying him down and hovering above him between his legs. "You are braver than you look." "Thank you?" He asks with a laugh which made you smile.
"Now, can I continue what I was doing before I was interrupted?" "Yes. Please." Smiling, you lean down, barely touching his lips before you change your mind and lean up slightly, lifting your hand and thumbing his bottom lip, parting his lips further apart, his eyes locked on yours that are on his lips. "So obedient even though you just met me." His eyes flutter as he whines. You gently push his bottom lip back up so he closes mouth around your thumb and it's like automatic as he start sucking it. "How did Shawn get a hold of you? He hates being dominate."
He moans around your thumb when you push into his tongue then slip your thumb from his lips. "I-I'm m-more of a switch...but I haven't really, um, switched...guess I could only find subs so I never was one." "Well, now you can be."
Finally, you lean down and connect your lips, firm and absolutely certain that this is what you want cause when your lips connected with his full, soft ones and they parted easily for you, you didn't want to stop as you slipped your tongue in and swipe it along his, pulling a proper moan out of him and he sounds so good you can't help but groan in return.
His arms drape around your neck and pull you closer. In return, you act on impulse and lower yourself onto him and he moans again when your pelvis meets his, grinding your clothed growing hard-on into his.
Breaking apart for air, you move to his neck again and his back arches closer to you. "H-Hyung- Fuck, sorry." His hand flys to his mouth as you pick your head up. "So you have a thing for tatted older men?" "Am I wrong? I'm sorry." "I'm two years older than Shawn." "Same age as him..." Smiling, you kiss the corner of his mouth. "Then no, you're not wrong."
You lean back down, pressing your lips firmly to his before a ring tone goes off again. "Are you fucking serious?" You groan as you look up and grab Chan's phone, he takes it and answers but his hips still jolt up to meet yours. "Hey." "Chan! I'm bored~ Can we hang out?" "Um, one sec, can you call me back in a few minutes, I'm busy at the current moment." "Oh, yeah, sure." Chan hangs up, putting his phone on the table and pushing you off him to switch spots with him straddling your lap.
He pushes your shirt out of the way and drags his nails down your toned stomach before he comes to your belt, fingers fiddling with your buckle in fake struggle, fingers nudging into your bulge below the accessory as he pulls it apart, the buckle clinking against itself while he unbuttons your pants then slowly dragging down the zipper.
"Chan...Baby, go faster." You pant out before throwing your head back against the cushion when his hand palms you and opens your pants wider to fully hold you. Hissing at the sensation before huff out a moan and look back down at Chan's movements. "Fuck." "Baby make Hyung feel good?" He asked, his eyes wide and wanting as he bit his lip, humping into his own hand. "Yeah, baby. Shit, making hyung feel so good." His hand squeezes your bulge slightly before he lets go and pulls down your boxers.
Hissing at the cold air, you grip his thighs, attempting to pull him closer. "Hyung so...big...and heavy..." He purposefully lets some of his spit drip onto your tip as he begins to stroke you. "Baby, remember, Shawn's calling you back soon." "I know. You answer when he does and switch it to video call." "You crazy?" "For you? I am now. You think I'd let a guy and dick like you go?"
You chuckle as he scoots back on the couch, pulling your jeans further down to your knees and only pulls your boxers down to mid-thigh. "Gonna suck me off, Baby?"
His answer is taking your tip between his lips, tongue lapping at your pre-cum and swirling around your tip. "Fuck, so good." He takes more of you into his mouth, tongue moving rapidly on the underside of your cock, he moans as he pulls off of you with a 'pop' and exhales heavily as he strokes you, licking the underside of your cock. His actions all messy and sticky with saliva and pre.
His phone goes off again and you look over, grabbing it then looking back down to Chan who nods with a dazed smile and blown pupils. Answering it, you change it to video chat and point it at the ceiling before switching the camera to face the floor. "Chan? Why are you showing your floor, silly?"
He taps your thigh as he takes your cock down his throat and you groan as your head falls back, temporarily distracted as his warm, wet mouth takes you all the way in. "Ooh, you jerking off babe? Why didn't you call me sooner?"
You sigh out a moan, lifting your head then facing the phone towards Chan. "Wha- What the fuck, Chan?! You're cheating on me?!" You groan as he pulls up, his tongue sticking out as he reaches your tip and lets it rest on the pink muscle, his eyes blown wide and crossed slightly as he looks up at you. Your hand brushing through his hair, tangling in the strands and scratching his scalp, his eyes close as he moans. "Wait, Mn?! I recognize that tattoo, what the actual fuck?!"
"You cheated on us first..." Chan closes his mouth and starts bobbing his head, slurping and sucking, completely focused on your cock that he's become drunk on. "So don't go yelling at us." "This isn't fair." "What i-isn't fair is y-you cheating on me s-six months after we got together...a-and ch-cheating on Chan with me after that..." You get out through stuttery breaths as Chan's mouth felt so fucking good.
"W-We also know you were hiding us from each other. Doordash and G-Grubhub, really?" Chan gags on your length and gasps as he pulls back, jerking you off quickly as he rests your tip on his tongue again. "Fuck, Baby, go faster...gonna cum, baby, I'm so close." With your words, a moan, and a quick "Oh fuck!" You cum on his tongue as he keeps stroking you, humming at your release shooting into his mouth and when you finish, panting heavily, he licks your tip with the tip of his tongue before pulling back and shows his tongue mainly to you but Shawn was still yelling at the both of you.
He closes his mouth, swallowing your cum then sticking his tongue out to show you it's gone. You push yourself up, flipping the camera around before kissing Chan messily, tongues tangling together and you taste yourself on his tongue.
"We're done Shawn." You lean away from Chan and look at the phone, the younger male moving to leave marks on your neck as well. "Fuck both of you. This isn't fair." He hangs up and you laugh, tossing the phone away gently.
"Isn't fair, is he for real?" You think aloud before Chan is turning your head and kissing you again, moaning into your mouth as he moves back onto your lap and your hands hold his hips. "Hyung, please fuck me, I need you so bad." "Here or your room?" "Fuck me right here, please." "You can beg better, can't you?" "Hyung, please stuff me full. I-I need your cock, need it so bad, please Hyung, please." His his rut into yours, grinding his clothed erection onto yours, moaning freely.
"Baby so needy for his cunt to be full, huh? Only needy for me, right? You'll be mine from now on, right? Always want my cock stuffing you, keeping you full?" "Fuck, Hyung, please~" His moan morphs into a whine as his hips move faster.
You lay him down, sliding off your pants and boxers before pulling of Chan's sweats, finding him wearing only the sweats as his cock slips from the sweats and lays on his stomach, hard and leaking. "Commando, huh?" "I-I always was when I met up with him...now only for you." "Shit, you're so fucking cute." You toss his sweats next to your jeans before taking off your shirt.
"So hot..." His hands find your body as you hover over him and lick into his mouth. Your hand slips under his hoodie, hands smoothing over his skin and pushing up his hoodie. "W-Wait, I want to k-keep this on." "Okay." Your hand squeezes his peck before you move your fingers to pinch his nipple. "Ah~ Shi- S-Sensitive." He moans, arching his back and throwing his head back.
"I'm not removing it, just lifting it up." You say as you push the hoodie out of the way before leaning down and biting his tit. His hands, now covered by the sleeves of the hoodie, find your hair, gripping it when you move to bite and suck his nipple. His moans were music to your ears as you let go of his nipple and kiss up to his neck, biting and sucking under his ear.
"Hyung, please." He takes your cock into his hand, stroking you lazily. "I need to prep you though." "No, please." "Have you bottomed before?" He nods. "Please, I-I want...I need it, Please. I want the stretch...please, Hyung." He begs and you kiss him, your cock still covered in spit as you prop yourself up next to his hip, his legs folding next to your waist and spreading wider.
"Fuck." He wanted to watch but you are way bigger than he anticipated as you pushed yourself in, moving your hand to the side of his other hip. "Hngh~ Ah fuck~" His voice became higher, whinier as he lets out choked moans. "S'good, S'big. Hyungie s'big, ah~" He whines softly as he brings his hands up, clad with sweater paws as he hides his face.
"Yeah? Baby feel good? I haven't started fucking you and you're cock drunk. Has it been that long since you've been fucked?" "Y-Yes." "Then I will give you all I have." "Please, Hyung." "Don't worry, baby, I will."
You push yourself up, sitting back with your hands on his knees, holding him open. "Fuuuck Channie Baby...." Your left hand slides down his thighs and splayed itself on his toned stomach. "You look so fucking good. Such a good looking body, how did I not find you sooner?" Leaning back more only slightly, you gather quite a bit of saliva and let it fall off your tongue, landing on his hole and your length before you push in more.
Your right hand joins your left before holding his waist tightly and pushing forward at the same time you pull him towards you until you're finally all the way inside him. "Fuck~ S-S'full...S'big, fu-hgnh~" He squirms, body restless as he adjusts and his chest heaving heavily as it felt like the air was punched out of his lungs, his hands wanting to push him up to see but they let him go and his back arches.
You move your hands next to his head, mouth attaching to his and you swallow his moans, licking along his tongue, his teeth, the roof of his mouth. You claimed his mouth feverishly as you pull your hips back, leaning on your arm without pulling away to bring his leg up to his chest and hook it over your shoulder, leaning onto the other arm and bringing his other leg up and pushing it out.
"Hyung! Fuck, Fuck, right th-there!" "Already?" "Y-Yes, Yes, please move. Please fuck me, fuck...fuck me a-as if w-we d-didn't just meet each other, please." "Shit, you're gonna be the death of me now."
You push back in hard and he yelps, back arching the furthest so far as the moan he lets out is practically pornagrahic, you immediately thrust into him quick and hard, hitting his prostate dead on and drawing a moan with every harsh thrust into him.
"Fuck, you're so tight, Baby. So warm, so good. Such a good boy, practically letting a stranger fuck you." As he looks at you, his mouth is wide open, moans falling past his lips, and his eyes are blown wide and glassy with want, need, and lust. "M-Mn, F-Fu-uck, Hyung-" He gasps at the harsh thrust, your tip punching into his prostate. "I-I..." He whines, closing his eyes and looking away, covering his face with his right hand.
"You what, baby?" "I-I...I-I can't s-say it...just met you..." "We're w-well past that, Baby, just say it." "Fuck, I'm sorry...I-I l-love you, Hyung...I'm sorry." Leaning down, you give him a kiss, biting his bottom lip before letting it go and returning to hover over him. "It's okay, Baby. It's okay. I love you, too. Gonna take you out after this, screw Shawn, your mine n-now. G-Gonna treat you s-so well, g-gonna spoil my baby."
"Hyung, Fuck!" He arches into your chest, head thrown back. "Shit, don't stop, don't stop, faster, faster, AH FUCK!" Your hand wraps around his length, helping him closer to his high before he's cumming hard, shooting up to where his hoodie is bunched up on his chest and he squeezes hard around your length.
He whines in overstimulation as you keep thrusting into him. "Just a little longer, s'close, gonna fill you up, fuck it deep into your cunt." He clenches around you, making you moan softly at the feeling. "You like that? Wanna be bred? Want my cum deep inside you, have my babies?" He moans as his dick twitches slightly. "Fuck, gonna cum, fill you full, Shit~" You cum with a moan, groaning a moment later as you thrust into him deeply, barely moving your hips as he moans at the feeling of your warm seed fills him up.
"Don't...Don't pull out..." You chuckle tiredly, collapsing onto him with your face in his neck. "U-Unless you c-can carry me t-to m-my room, we're laying here." You gently let his legs go, moving your own legs in order to sit up and take him with you. He yelps in shock as your dick shifts but still stays inside him.
"Think you can lean back and grab your pants?" "No, I sleep naked." "Okay then." You grab his thighs and stand up, he wraps his arms around your neck, burying his face in the side of your neck and leaving small kisses before he nuzzles his nose into your neck, cuddling into your arms.
"Do you have a plug?" "I'm hugging it." He mutters and you physically have to stop and laugh. "That's not...Really?" He giggles as you enter his room, closing the door behind you then moving to sit on his bed. "No, hold on." He detaches himself from you and leans to his right slightly to the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a plug.
"Want me to put it in?" "Obviously." You take the object from him and he places his hand on your shoulder as yours move to his ass, squeezing the soft skin and spread him before lifting him up, you slip out of him with a slight squelch noise then replace yourself with the toy. "Fuck..." "You okay?" He whines, shifting on your lap as your hands stay on his ass. "S'empty..." You chuckle, kissing his temple. "I'll get you a bigger toy so you'll always be full."
He pulls back, meeting your eyes. "Really? Y-You don't h-have to, I-I was just saying that stuff to...get off." "Were you really? I was serious, going to take you out tomorrow and spoil the hell out of you. Sounded like you were serious too, remember? Can't let a good guy and dick like me go." "I-I did...Shit..."
"Do you want to be something with me?" "I do. You're so much better than everyone else." "Then from now on you're my baby, my sweet baby boy, okay?" He nods shyly, leaning forward to hide his blushing face in your neck. "I'm your baby boy, Hyung. I..." He hesitates and you kiss his shoulder. "I love you, baby." He whines, tightening his hold around your neck. "Mmm...I love you too, Hyung."
Taking him with you, you lay down under his covers before covering you both up, he snuggles under his blankets and closer to you, wrapping his arms around your middle as he tucks himself under your chin, nose nuzzling at your neck and taking in your scent as your arms wrap around his shoulders and hug him close.
"Good night, Channie Baby."
"Good night, Mn-Hyung."
#random#bleh#stray kids#straykids#stray kids x male reader#bang chan x male reader#bang chan#stray kids smut
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Hi guys! From this point forth, we will be removing ANY confessions deemed to be “low effort.” (The TL;DR is anything written in bold. I provided further in depth explanation to hopefully answer any potential questions if any section confuses you.)
What we will consider low effort:
>Anything less than a sentence, such as just stating just a character name or just a ship name.
>Confessions that contain a similar premise to another confession submitted in quick succession. Such as “Bot ii is my favorite character” followed shortly by “I love Bot ii”. That being said, confessions expressing the same viewpoint but proposing different ideas will NOT be considered the same confession. If a confession submitted after another echoes a similar opinion, mods may choose to screenshot or copy and paste the second confession and attach it to the original confession. (Note that this may only occur if the secondary confession is submitted off anon or uses an anon tag; any anonymous repetitive asks without any identification will simply be deleted.)
>General spam confessions will also be deleted, such as if the same user/anon submits the same ask over and over (such as “I love bot ii!” followed by “bot ii is so me!” followed by “bot ii yay” etc. or if they just spam the inbox with the same exact confession over and over.) If your post does not break the rules, it will eventually be posted. Be patient, please do not submit the same/similar confession every day thinking that will speed up the process.
>Non-confessions. Shitposts or images that are not confessions may be deleted. This depends more on the moderator queueing, but if the content is considered to be irrelevant it may be removed. Similarly, posts that are one sentence followed by a long and irrelevant copypasta that floods the feed may be deleted. We do still permit posts that may just be asking for recommendations/asking questions/etc. but we may become a bit stricter with what actually queues. If it’s a question that can be answered via a simple google search it may be considered spam.
>Finally, we encourage you to compile any similar thoughts into one confession. Rather than confessing “I love bot ii” and then submitting another confession stating “I love four bfdi”, you can combine these into one confession regarding favorite characters.
The definition of “low effort” varies from mod to mod, there is no concrete definition, however if your confession falls under one of the above categories it will more likely than not be deleted.
These rules will be implemented to help reduce spam and allow us to keep the ask box open more frequently, as the queue hopefully will not get as long! Unfortunately we can only post a maximum of 50 posts per day (with automatic queue), so once the queue exceeds high volumes (it’s at like 300 right now 😭) we get a really bad backup of confessions, and it takes even longer to have confessions post.
If you want to submit a confession, we do encourage you to refrain from submitting redundant asks (i.e., if you agree with a confession, commenting rather than submitting an entire confession in agreement or reiterating the posted ask is preferred.) We also encourage not submitting asks considered ‘popular opinions,’ or that are just repeating confirmed canon. This definition, of course, is different for everyone, and asks considered ‘popular opinions’ won’t always be removed, however reducing confessions that simply repeat a sentiment shared by pretty much everyone or that are just stating canon fact (such as ‘i hate proshippers’ or ‘two tpot is an algebralien.’) will allow more thought-provoking and interesting (or discourse-y) content a chance to be posted.
If you believe your confession falls under any of the above categories, it’s strongly preferred you do not submit it so that mods can focus more on queueing rather than deleting spam.
Thanks for your cooperation :]! If you have any questions, feel free to leave a comment!
also sorry for picking on bot for this entire post 💔
-📻
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Sent to our inbox by an anon: ❝ I’ve been questioning my sexuality for a while now. I’m an adult cis woman, going by she/her, and I always thought I was straight (all the people I fell in love with in the past were all men) until several years ago I started thinking that I would be open to dating women too, but I didn’t think much about that until I met a girl and she’s just so sweet and beautiful, and I really wanted to be her friend when I first met her (we share so many interests). We are friends now, but we’re not dating or anything, and I don’t even know if I have ‘a crush’ on her or if my feelings are platonic?
I still like men, and currently I’m in love with a man (although he and I aren’t dating either, it’s complicated), and my feelings for him are definitely stronger than the feelings I have for that lady friend I mentioned. But I still think I would probably say yes if that girl asked me out (she’s bisexual), and I think I would be interested in dating girls, but haven’t met someone who made me fall head over heels yet (thus all of my past serious relationships and heartbreaks were men, and so far I only really fell in love with men).
Because if my feelings for that girl aren’t platonic and I really do have a crush on her, it’s for now still just a crush (I’m not exactly in love with her). So I don’t know. Am I straight or am I bisexual?
I know the only person who can answer this question is myself, but I’m totally lost here and I’m asking the internet for help in case anybody out there could make things less confusing for me. ❞
*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).
#bisexuality#bisexual#queer#gay#wlw#lgbt#lgbtq#lgbt community#lgbtq community#tumblr polls#poll#polls#tumblr poll#incognito polls#poll time#random poll
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🦴 INTRO
last edited: 24/5/24
Welcome to my kin blog! Heres some stuff to get to know me, my identity & my blog. I'd prefer if you read this before following me, but im not ur dad. Just know i block freely.
ABOUT ME
🍁 You can call me Red! Or my real name, if you know it. Im an autistic 16 year old guy (he/it) and i identify mostly as a canine therian— But i have other identities. Im also goth & scenemo, which isnt important but i wanted to say it lmao
🍁 I am brazilian american (1st generation) but ive never been to the USA despite this, and i am self taught in english so im sorry if i fuck up 💀 im also learning french because i (unfortunately) live in france.
🍁 I have a mate and he is the goat (hes a cat actually) and he does not post at all but you should still follow him @vampiresvanity
🍁 I love getting new mutuals!! please ask to be my mutual i probably will never say no. and feel free to dm me as long as youre under 25
🍁 i follow from @120red
MORE
fandoms: homestuck, warrior cats, furry, scott pilgrim, pokemon, etc
games: wolfquest, planet zoo, the wolf among us, rdr2, transformice, stardew valley
books: dracula, frankenstein, owls of ga'hoole, wings of fire, watership down
music: my chemical romance, modern baseball, lapfox trax, pierce the veil, insane clown posse, korn, the cure, scary bitches, s3rl, yaelokre, sublime, etc
movies & shows: wolfwalkers, how to train your dragon, wolfblood, MTV downtown, invader zim, the lion king, oliver & company, etc
collectibles: littlest pet shop, charlie bears, plushies, feathers, crystals, model horses, random ass trinkets
IDENTITY
╰┈➤ KEY:
★ = spiritual
☆ = psychological
✮ = physical
𖤐 = all of the above
✦ = heartype
✰ = copinglink
? = still figuring it out
🥩 Dhole (Cuon Alpinus) 𖤐
🥩 Wolf (Canis Lupus) 𖤐?
↳ 🦴 Sea Wolf
↳ 🦴 Yellowstone Wolf
🥩 Wolfdog (Canis Lupus x Canis Lupus Familiaris) ☆✮
🥩 Werewolf ☆✮
🥩 American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) ✦
🥩 Dog (Canis Lupus Familiaris) ?
↳ 🦴 English Cocker Spaniel ✦
↳ 🦴 A Big Breed Idk Which One ☆
🥩 Black Flying Fox (Pteropus alecto) ✰
Im also dave strider from homestuck and fan from inanimate insanity but i do not talk about it much here
BLOG
this blog is where i post mostly about alterhumanity! this may be my experiences, tips for others, aesthetic shit and bla bla bla. its mostly just a space for me to be open about it.
DNI: antikin, anti agere/petre, proshippers & comshippers, zoos, kink/nsfw accounts
THIN ICE: kin-for-fun, non alterhumans in general
BYF: i curse a lot. i change my pfp based on the 'type i feel most connected with. thats practically it lol
TAGS
#info :: information about me/my blog
#favs :: favorite posts
#asks :: answering asks
#howls :: stuff about alterhumanity
#barks :: random unimportant posts
#wags :: stuff that made me happy
#wholewolf-reblogs :: reblogs
#my art :: drawings i make
#stuffs :: misc things i make
#moodboards :: moodboards. duh
#home :: hearthomes & nature pics
#me if u even care :: 'type pics lol
pixel gifs by @bugsb1te
#info#intro#introduction#blog intro#therian#therianthrope#alterhuman#nonhuman#otherkin#kinmunity#therianthropy#therianblr#kinblr#kin blog#dholekin#wolfkin#lycanthrope#otherhearted#copinglink#copinglinker#theriotype
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CHAPTER 11
status: ongoing
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…
Masterlist
rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)
Before to start... Thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging and leaving comments 🫶 if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. 😉 Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful! 🙏
Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner and thanks @saradika-graphics for the divider.
Taglist: @harriedandharassed
The next day you wake up against the door of your room, you don't know what time it is or what day it is, you don't have your cell phone, you feel dazed, your eyes are swollen which you open with difficulty, you only see that it is daytime because the sunlight illuminates your room, you barely get up and go to the window.
People walk quietly down the street, there are small groups of kids walking here and there, a couple of couples holding hands, a father and daughter walking hand in hand. You rest your hands on the window feeling miserable and burdened, you place your forehead against the window and close your eyes, you think of Joel, who knows if he called, if he wrote to you!
You hope your mother didn't read or see his calls!
Luckily you have the block on your phone.
“You don't want to fly away? Then fly away,” you think back to Joel's words.
You open your eyes again, walk to the door, and make to open it, but it's still closed.
“Mom? Mom open it.”
You hear her footsteps, and this time after a few seconds the door opens, your mother is wearing a red coat, her hair is combed back, she is lightly made up, and she is still peering at you coldly.
She doesn't speak; she waits for you to do so.
“I don't deserve this,” you tell her, wanting to use a firm tone of voice, but your tone of voice is shaky.
“I don't know what to do with you anymore.” she says in a defeated tone of voice “I thought making you attend my prayer group, making you take music lessons would make you better than your father, and instead…” she leaves the sentence hanging.
When she wants to hurt you, she compares you to your father.
You don't know exactly what he did, but it is certainly something very serious. Or so you have always guessed from her words and the tone she uses when she mentions about him.
“Excuse me if I'm not the daughter you wish,” you tell her.
Usually when she compare you to the other parent, you always told her what can I do to change your mind, she told you that you should study and try harder, be more obedient, and after a few weeks, serenity returned between the two of you because you got back in line, in her lines. Today, you don't want to say that statement anymore. It is not fair that everything you want is constantly repressed and belittled. It is not fair that she prevents you from seeing someone. You cannot allow that.
Your mother sighs, then shakes her head.
“So who was the man Mrs. Bixby saw?” she asks again.
You don't want to get Joel in trouble, you can't.
“His name is Jack.” you answer her “I met him when I was waiting for you at the end of my music class, I had finished a few minutes earlier and went into a bar to have a glass of water.” you tell her.
“We're getting somewhere.” she says hearing you confess “How long have you been seeing him? Have you seen him again? What does he do?” she begins with her many questions.
“Since a couple of months, Jack studies psychology. We've always seen each other in public places like the library, restaurant, diner, never here or at his home. Nothing has ever happened, if that's what you care to know,” you say finding a firmer tone of voice.
If she knew what you do with Joel.
“I'd like to meet him,” she says.
“Mom it's a little early, we don't know each other yet to have him come here to the house,” you try to dissuade her.
“I insist!”
You lower your head, you don't have a choice. By now you have to do this or your mother would start again and forbid you any kind of outing.
“All right,” you reply not at all enthusiastically.
Instead, she seems to visibly calm down, “Fine,” she says.
“Where are you going?” you ask her.
“I go to church.” she replies and then she turns her back on you, “Ah, your damn cell phone has been ringing nonstop!” she exclaims.
You leave and make to go to the kitchen to get it back, but your mother once again stops you with her words “I saw there are messages from your friends and at least two from Joel Miller. None from Jack. It's kind of strange that he's not looking for you, isn't it?” she says making you freeze.
“We had a fight two nights ago,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders.
“Well, I'm going then.”
You nod, when you hear the door close you resume breathing normally and run to unlock your cell phone. You call Joel immediately.
“Baby, finally!” he exclaims in an alarmed tone “I was scared for you. You okay?” he asks you.
“Joel, when are you coming?” you ask him not answering his question using an alarmed tone.
“I'm home. D' ya wanna me to pick you up?” he asks you in the same tone.
“No. Um, listen,” you check the door, “my mother suspects something. I can't make you come down here to me anymore, I'll come to you. I'll wait for her to go to the hospital tonight and then I'll sneak out. Okay?”
The door opens and you immediately close the phone pretending you are going to get some cookies for breakfast. Your mother is back, she forgot something she tells you and then goes out again. You breathe a huge sigh of relief, then go back to look at your phone and text Joel “Sorry I ended the call, I couldn't talk. I wish I didn't have to force you to go through this… “
Joel calls you back, you answer.
“You're going to tell me everythin' tonight. 7 o'clock 's okay for you?” he tells you.
If you could, you'd run straight to him.
“Yes. See you tonight,” you tell him, “Bye.”
“Miller careful with that or you'll end up without something very dear to you!” exclaims his colleague, the only female presence on the site, the only friend Joel has and who knows all about you and who has eagerly seen your presence in his friend's life.
Her name is Tess, she pats Joel's shoulders to call him to attention, he looks up and she smiles at him.
“Hey.” Joel greets her thoughtfully, the man is splitting bricks, but the cuts are inaccurate.
Tess stays behind him, “What?” asks Joel.
“Those bricks need to be split four inches farther apart, and then the angle is wrong.” Joel snorts, “What's the matter, Miller?”
“Nothin'.” his tone does not convince Tess, who grabs a rickety chair and sits down. She says nothing, just observes Joel continuing that wrong slanted cut.
Joel snorts, actually you are his fixed thought, at first he was attracted to you because of your sweetness and great insecurity towards the world, towards everything that was unknown to you and he couldn't help but think of your eyes and its endless expressions of astonishment, joy, fear, but also desire and love as you you know each other. When you met, he would have thought anything but to think so much about someone after what had happened to his daughter Sarah and then with his partner! Indeed, when his brother Tommy had asked him to tell his pupil that there would be no more meetings, he never thought he would meet a sweet, pure and fragile girl like you, never thought he would find himself captivated by you, never.
“If you want to talk, I'm here,” Tess says again, lighting a cigarette.
Joel gives her a sidelong glance, “There's not much to say.” Joel picks up the hammer breaking another block.
“Is it about her, isn't it?” she asks.
Joel nods pronouncing your name in a whisper with such delicacy and sweetness as if you were the most precious gem in the world to him.
“I would like to be strong for both of us,” Joel says, throwing the hammer just farther, “but the truth is that knowin' her in danger, in this state of duress, hurts me. What I want is to hold her in my arms and tell her that I will always keep her safe with me.”
Joel quickly realizes, however, that this is not possible. You might have been thrilled about it, but while he himself would have been very happy about it, he still has a lot of doubts about how right it is to bond you with someone like him.
“Did you tell her about Jess?” Tess asks him, taking a puff of her cigarette.
“Yes.” Joel replies immediately, moving away from there and toward the scaffold. Tess follows him in a half-step, “I told her in a nutshell that it didn't end in the best way between us.”
“Did you also tell her she's around and from time to time you see her?” she asks him, resting her forearms on the scaffold's balustrade. Joel gives her a long, penetrating look that counts as an answer, which is no.
Joel still cannot talk about her unfiltered because to do so would mean talking about Sarah, and Sarah is a chapter of his life that he does not want to share with anyone. Unless he has to.
“I know you were really bad first about Sarah and then about Jess, but maybe with her you could-”
“Tess, do you mind if we don't talk about those years of my life at all,” the tone of his voice does not allow for different replies.
“All right.” Tess says “I had felt that you cared particularly for her.”
Joel sighs heavily. He is trying to remember why he still addresses the woman. At that moment it escapes him.
“Yes.”
“If it was a sex thing, I wouldn't have told you to talk to her about who-you-know.” she adds “But from what I understand it's more than that.” the man looks at her with an enigmatic gaze and Tess's eyes go wide “You haven't yet-- oh my God, then this is a serious thing!” she exclaims with a half-smile “And who would have expected old Miller to fall in love again!” she exclaims again patting the man's shoulder who rolls his eyes shaking his head.
Joel looks toward the buildings still under construction, he doesn't like to talk about his feelings, he was never good at expressing them if the situation was clear. Let alone today with you who are so much younger than him, you are absolutely inexperienced and naive! Nonetheless, Joel can't do without you or think about you.
Evening comes and Joel is in great apprehension about you: your voice, your tone were strongly cracked, your words had put him in a state of great agitation.
He has tidied up the house at the least, ordered Italian food, and he's waiting for you with great impatience.
When you knock on the door, he immediately runs to open it. Joel does not even have time to greet you, that you pounce on him, encircling his neck with your arms and burying your head in the crook of his neck. Joel wraps both arms around you and holds you tightly to him, closing his eyes.
“Baby.” he whispers in your ear then kissing one forehead “You're safe.” he tells you increasing his grip even more and then sinking a hand into your hair “My poor baby.” he repeats, you can't speak, you feel overwhelmed, you just stay in that position and inhale his strong scent.
You have, the two of you have, chills.
You can't separate yourself from that embrace, you don't know what to say to each other, but maybe that embrace is worth more than many words.
You eat in silence and only afterwards, when you are on the couch, you lying with your head on his thighs and him gently stroking your hair, you tell him what happened with your mother, you tell him that you are afraid to be there, that you would like to get out of there, to run away. You've always felt this state of oppression, but never as tightly as the night before.
“Please go away. You can come to me,” he tells you.
You look at him with a surprised look, you had thought about your friends, but certainly not him.
“Joel, I…”
“Think about it, but I don't want to know you're in danger. If something happened to you--” you raise your head and stand beside him "I could never forgive myself."
“Sssh,” you say as you sit on his lap, resting a finger on his lips, “I'm here now.”
He gently kisses your fingertip making your skin crawl, you smile at him and then pounce on his lips.
Spending the night in his bed gave you back an ounce of courage that your mother had previously deprived you of, breathing in his strong scent relaxes you, being hugged by him all night long makes you feel good and peaceful all of a sudden. In the morning you wake up like this still hugging each other: you have your back to him, he still holds you tightly to him, you open your eyes, your eyes still pinch a little from the loud crying of the night before, but you feel better already. You feel him moving just behind you, mumbling some unintelligible words, and you find yourself smiling and turning slowly toward him with your face and then your torso. You watch, thanks to the first light of dawn filtering through his bedroom window, his face still stretched out, his lips parted, his beard growing.
You find him wonderful.
You don't want to disturb him, but you can't help the urge to caress him. You gently stroke with your fingertip the contour of his face, his angular nose, the barely noticeable wrinkle between his eyebrows, his forehead, his beard, then his lips.
Joel begins to wake up, smiling and muttering “Gmrning.” you find yourself smiling back before returning his greeting only to find your eyes in each other's. Those sweet chocolate eyes settle on you, he smiles at you and then holds you tightly to him again, you find yourself smiling at each other and exchanging sweet kisses, gently caressing each other.
“I would stay like this all day,” you confess to him, afraid to put your foot out the door of his house because you know that once you are out everything will go back to the way it was before and you will go back to being the one forced to act a certain way, to be a certain way. You don't want to, you don't want to. But you have to.
“I'm here for you. If that's what you wish…” he smiles at you, caressing your face this time with a finger "you will be granted." he says placing a finger on your lips, you gently press your lips against his fingertip without looking away from his eyes. You love to see how the expression in his eyes changes when you do something especially good for him, how his eyes seem to get bigger and darker. Which happens even now.
“Joel…” you say without finish your sentence.
He whispers your name, he pronounce it with desire.
You bridge that very short distance that separates you at once, your lips rest against each other, they open in unison, and your tongues dance at first softly then almost wildly, it is a kiss that takes your breath away.
You wish he would touch you, you wish he would do more-- but you feel it, Joel is like he is always holding back with you. Maybe it's you who has to help him.
You take his hand and bring it to your breast, you know you will drive him crazy. Indeed, his breathing becomes shorter and you find yourself smiling into the kiss. Glad to have provoked a reaction in him.
“Little girl…” he says to your lips, his tone of voice should be a sort of a warning or do you imagine that's what he means using that tone, but you deliberately ignore his tone and instead you look him in the eyes for a long time before saying, “Will you teach me to make you feel as good as you did with me?”
His eyes become if possible even darker, “No.” he answers you dryly “Not yet. You're not ready.” he adds, swallowing.
“You're afraid.” you say moving away from him, he turns supine “You're afraid to cross the line with me, aren't you?” you insist, he looks at you “Well, we've already crossed it. I touch myself because of you, if I have to say it!” you add feeling the heat on your cheeks "You make me feel so good, why can't I do it with you too?" he doesn't answer you, he looks at the ceiling.
You also turn in a supine position, you look away. You don't say anything, you don't know what to say. If he doesn't want to, you cannot make him.
“You don't trust me.” you say after what to you seems like hours of silence, you turn completely away “All right.” you add feeling a knot in your throat, you first feel him move to the other side of the bed then you feel a hand caressing your side and finally you feel a strand of hair move and a kiss behind your ear. You shiver, wanting to hold the point, but you already know you won't last much longer, not with him kissing that sensitive portion of your skin and then moving down to kiss along your neck.
More shivers run down your spine as his unshaven beard brushes against your neck, you turn toward him finding yourself lost in a kiss again. He almost pulls you toward him, you groan from surprise and also from the arousal that is spreading inside you and spreads even more as he towers over you completely. He breaks the kiss and you find your eyes meeting. His hot breath breaks against you and you find yourself closing your eyes.
Like other times, anything could happen out there, but if you are with him you really don't care.
He places a kiss on the tip of your nose and you smile. You smile again.
“D' you wanna try somethin' new?” he asks.
You open your eyes nodding.
He sits in the middle of the bed, you also make to sit, but he shakes his head saying, “Stay down and lemme do it. Honey, if you feel uncomfortable, if you have any pain, stop me right now, okay?”
“What is this about?” you ask him leaning on your forearms.
He looks at you, “I want to touch that your tight little hole with my fingers.”
You flush more at his dirty tone of voice than at what he said, “Haven't you already done that?” you ask him uncertainly.
“Not exactly.” you look at him questioningly “I've only touched a small part of you, I'd like to go deeper.” you swallow “If you don't wanna to-”
“No, no!” you quickly interrupt him “All right. What should I do?” you ask him.
He leans toward you caging you in his arms, he lays a quick kiss on your lips and then returns to sit in the middle of the bed, “Can I take 'em off?”
You nod as he lays his hands on the elastic of your shorts, looks you once more in the eyes as if seeking your consent once more, consent which comes immediately by just raising your pelvis allowing him to remove your shorts and briefs in one move, remaining completely naked from the waist down.
It's not the first time he touches you, but this time you are completely exposed to his sight and it sends more discharges of arousal all along your body especially noticing his equally lust-filled gaze.
He pounces on your lips almost sucking your lips and tongue together, you groan in surprise at that kiss so different from the others, “You are beautiful.” you tell him through your lips feeling him smile and looking into your eyes.
He grazes your nose with the tip of his nose, “You are perfect, baby.” he comments leaving a trail of moist kisses along the line of your jaw and then down your neck.
You drop your head back, blissfully surrendering to his lips and then to his hands gently resting on your breasts, moaning softly as you close your eyes.
“Are you aroused yet?” he asks you.
You nod, “Yes.”
“Lemme see.” he says and then caresses with his left hand your thigh, then your inner thigh and finally there, your intimacy, you squeeze your eyes shut, he hasn't touched you yet and you already feel those familiar tremors inside you.
“You're already soaked.” he says, you open your eyes and look at him questioningly, “Is that wrong?” you ask him puzzled.
“Absolutely not.” he replies running a finger along your intimacy causing you to hold your breath “It means you're already ready.” he explains repeating the same motion back and forth, you find yourself biting your lower lip and clenching your toes feeling an ever-increasing heat spreading to your lower abdomen.
“R - ready for what?” you ask tremblingly, but curious.
“For me.” he answers you with lust-filled eyes as he continues that precise, slow movement “Relax, don't be afraid.” he tells you noticing your tense expression.
“I am not afraid.” you reply looking into his eyes, and it's true you know that whatever he will do, it won't hurt you. You know that you are safe with him and that you would do anything with him.
“Now I'm going to insert my finger inside your cunt,” you swallow “I'm going to do it very slowly, if you have pain or feel uncomfortable, tell me and I'll stop.” he says scrutinizing your face carefully, his gaze tense, focused, full of desire. You nod barely trembling with desire.
Slowly he slides inside you first just the calloused fingertip as you almost jerk to feel part of his finger inside your taut and tender flesh, you tremble with desire, a boiling desire that reverberates in every cell of your body; he stays like this for a while then slides the phalanx inside you, you drop your head on the pillow feeling you are in a world out of the ordinary, you find yourself spreading your lips wide as if searching for oxygen, moaning softly.
“Jus' a lil more.” he warns you before inserting the phalanx inside you. You clench the blankets in the fist of your hands and moan softly, “You're so excited, my baby.” you feel him kiss you on the lips, but you can't kiss him back, you're seeing stars behind your eyelids, it's indescribable.
Then, he sinks inside you again and you open your eyes suddenly, you look down and seeing his finger fully sinked inside you is an even more arousing sensation, feeling his long, thick finger reach such intimate parts of you makes you wet even more “How's it goin'?” he asks you.
Your vision is almost blurred, you are at a loss for words, you just nod.
He leans over to you and kisses you gently on the lips, slowly lets his finger out inside you and this hollow feeling makes you moan into his mouth, then slowly slips his finger back into you making you moan again. He repeats this movement with a slow rhythm that makes the desire inside you grow faster and faster. You moan surrendering to the pleasure he is giving you with that relentless rhythm of his, lips parted and completely exposed to him. Then, with a confident movement, Joel also touches your throbbing center sending you more discharges of pure lust, you no longer know what to focus on, whether on his finger touching hitherto unexplored areas of you or on the palm of his hand caressing your clit.
Hearing you moan against him makes him instinctively close his eyes and breathe deeply, he feels the contractions of your next climax squeeze his finger and the lust spreads strong inside him, he would have liked to make you cum in his mouth or around his cock, but he still has to restrain himself.
Your climax explodes violently causing you to gasp and clench the blankets even more tightly in your fist. The room suddenly becomes silent.
There is only your shortness of breath.
“How d' ya feel?” he asks after a couple of minutes of silence, giving you a cloud-light kiss on your neck as the waves of climax slowly leave you.
“Fine.” you reply, still nodding with your eyes closed.
He slowly kisses your forehead, then your cheek and finally your lips. You open your eyes and exchange a sweet smile.
“Would you like some breakfast?” you ask him after a while.
“Pancakes?” he offers.
You smile, “That'd be perfect.”
You slip back into your briefs and shorts and go downstairs to make breakfast.
You found out one more thing about him: Joel is a disaster in the kitchen, first he forgot to add milk to the mixture, then he dropped an egg on the floor in short you did nothing but laugh during this rocambolic breakfast preparation.
You manage after almost an hour to sit at his kitchen worktop eating your pancakes, you add some honey, raspberries and blueberries. You eat in silence, only exchanging long glances, then after you bite into the last piece, you tell him, “I've been thinking about the title of my story.”
He nods chewing, “And that is?”
“Bittersweet.” you reply, smiling at him.
You see him swallow, “What's it about?” he asks you.
“It's the story of a young woman and her music teacher, a man who is apparently an asshole, actually very sweet and who will help his student to become more and more confident,” you tell him in outline, turning to face him.
He smiles conspiratorially, “That reminds me of somethin'.”
“Huh, yeah!” you exclaim, returning that look and his smile.
“D' you wanna start writing now?” he asks you.
“Do you mind?” you ask him.
He turns to you, then gently taking your chin between his fingers he says, “If you ask me with these sweet eyes, I can't say no.” you lower your gaze for a moment, “Well, I'll take the opportunity to take a shower and then put up a couple of shelves in the living room. You set up wherever you like, here, in the study above, in the bedroom, wherever you like.”
What did you do to deserve such a man?
“Do you mind if I sit on the couch in the living room?” you ask him, this is his house and it seems more than fair to ask his permission before moving anywhere you want.
He leans toward you giving you a sweet kiss on the lips, “Wherever you want.” you smile, then lays his forehead against yours and takes his leave. He sees you turn on the computer, cross your legs and lay the laptop on your lap. He sees you open the program to write, Joel has never understood much about computers and stuff like that, he has always been an analog guy, always loved manual work.
Joel goes into his bedroom and lies down on the bed, feeling alive. He is feeling good for the first time in a long time, living the little moments of everyday life with you makes him feel good, alive and special. He didn't believe that someone like him after all he has experienced could again hold someone in his arms who makes him feel welcomed, loved, who tries to make him feel good, it is a wonderful feeling.
He breath deeply, the scent of you is still strong in his room.
Joel was about to give in earlier when you had asked him to pleasure him, was about to say okay, but that wouldn't have been right. Joel becomes more and more aware that yours is not just a physical attraction, yes of course there is that too. Yet when you are apart he cannot help but think of your scent, your eyes, your smile, your sweetness, your need to be welcomed, cuddled, loved.
He feels his cock throbbing at the thought of your narrowed eyes and wide-open mouth, as he was pleasuring you with his fingers for the first time, the memory of you so tight and wet causes him another jolt. He undresses completely and goes to the shower, he opens the water jet and finds himself thinking that he would love to have you here with him, he imagines what he would do if you were there together. He'd press you against the shower wall and you'd look at him with those wide eyes of yours in surprise, he'd kiss your neck and you'd close your eyes, he'd press himself against you and kiss every inch of your body, he'd feel you tense up and beg for more.
How he would love to have and give more!
He wraps his taut erection in his fist, the roar of the water covers his moans, his heavy breathing, the image of you clinging to him, your arms encircling his neck, he imagines you giving him pleasure. He grits his teeth to disguise the long moan that comes out of his mouth as streams of his hot seed fall partly into his fist and partly against the shower wall.
“Fuck…” he says, resting his forehead against the shower wall.
He washes himself thoroughly, then gets out of the shower. He dries off, puts on old jeans and a black T-shirt he usually uses to do chores around the house, and comes downstairs. He sees you drinking a glass of water in the kitchen, he reaches you out and he wraps his arms around you, and you smile sweetly at him, “How's the writing of your masterpiece goin'?” he asks.
“Don't tease me now,” you reply to him, setting the glass down in the sink.
“I'm not teasing you.” he says giving you a kiss under your ear “If 's something of yours, it's certainly unique. Beautiful. To me, a masterpiece.” you turn to him finding eyes in each other's eyes, he places a kiss on the tip of your nose, you chuckle "I hope everyone gets it, that you can work up the courage to sign up for some classes and they'll notice you, that they can read you sooner or later." he confides.
“Then I wouldn't be here with you anymore,” you say in a huff that makes the two of you feel sick.
Joel lays his hands on your forearms, he strokes you gently, then slides his hands behind your back, “I don't wanna you to be confined here. In this small town. You deserve places like Seattle, Los Angeles, New York, or even Europe. You deserve the world. I wish you could see all the wonders there are,” he tells you.
“You are all the wonder I want in my life,” you tell him.
“Oh, baby.” he says holding you in his arms and placing kisses on your cheek and forehead “You're so sweet, so…” he dips his nose into your hair and you close your eyes, you don't care what he wanted to add, the important thing is what you told him. At the moment you like to write, but you don't want to get away from him, you couldn't stand a world where he is not there. For you it would be intolerable.
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel tlou#joel miller hbo#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us hbo#joel miller self insert#the last of us#joel fic#the last of us fanfiction#joel the last of us#pedro pascal#pedro pascal as joel miller#smut#joel x f!reader#joel x female reader#joel x you#dom!joel#dom!joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller angst#bittersweet ff#soft!joel miller
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Rosquez | Vampire AU | 1.2k
When Valentino wakes up, there are several things that he notices.
First of all, Marc’s presence in the bed with him, his back against the head of it, sheets pooling at his hips, a book held between his hands. He smells of plants, his hair partially damp.
If Valentino pushes farther, he can find the smell of fresh grass on Marc’s boots in another room, see the tiniest remains of dirt hiding under Marc’s nails.
Using his speed, Valentino surges forward, knocking Marc’s book down as it falls to the ground in a clatter. Marc retaliates, the two of them tumbling in bed until Marc stops fighting, letting Valentino pin him to the mattress, one leg between Marc’s, one hand keeping Marc’s arms out of the way.
Once he knows that Marc won’t move anymore, Valentino relaxes, letting go of Marc’s arms and letting him move up until his head is properly resting against a pillow. Marc’s right hand finds the spot it always settles for on Valentino’s waist, just below his ribs where a scar from before he was turned sits.
Valentino smirks down at Marc and gets an eye roll back for his troubles.
“Good morning to you too,” Marc bites without heat. From up close, it’s easy to see the red tinting Marc’s skin, even with how unusually tan for a vampire he’s always been. “I was reading that, you know. The story is quite good.”
Valentino laughs, his hand leaving its place on the mattress to move to Marc’s jaw, his thumb coaxing Marc’s lips open until Valentino can find his canines.
Valentino expected to find the blood coloring Marc’s gums but the sight gives him a little thrill anyway.
“You went hunting,” Valentino states. It’s not a question. Not with all the evidence at hand.
Under him, Marc nods, his eyes fixed on Valentino. It’s rare to see Marc so relaxed that Valentino has to drink the moment in (and there is still a degree of tension and awareness in Marc’s body, Valentino won’t foul himself, but he will take what he can have).
Valentino’s thumb traces the outline of the pointed teeth before pressing down on it enough to break skin.
Marc is quick to suck on the blood, his pupils dilating just a little as he closes his mouth over Valentino’s finger.
“What did you get?” Valentino asks after pulling his thumb out but keeping it pressed to the corner of Marc’s bottom lip.
“Small roebuck,” Marc answers easily. “Ran quite fast but it wasn’t that much trouble to catch up with him.”
“Sounds like you had fun.”
Marc shrugs, his free hand going to Valentino’s nape and fiddling with the curls there. “Yeah. Maybe you should come with me one day, you would have fun too. We can even make a competition out of it to keep you entertained.”
Valentino chuckles, ducking his head down and hiding his face against Marc’s neck for an instant.
It’s not the first time that Marc has more than hinted at the fact that Valentino should come out to feed. This time, though, it feels genuine, Marc’s voice bearing some hope instead of the useful sarcasm or disdain.
Marc’s more than aware than Valentino’s field of play has always been the city, his preys on the human side of the animal kingdom.
Valentino’s not in the mood for them to argue on that today. He pulls his head back up, thumb grazing Marc’s bottom lip just once.
He doesn’t miss the way Marc’s eyes flutter an instant.
“Maybe I should send Bezz up your way, I think he would enjoy the nature. I’ve never seen a vamp so outdoorsy and who loves running so much.”
“Bezz?” Marc tenses under him. His hands falls down from Valentino’s neck. Valentino sweeps his thumb over Marc’s nape, trying to soothe him down. “You adopted another stray?”
Valentino keeps the existence of Celestino for himself. Marc doesn’t need to know that him and Bezz came in a package.
“It’s been about 50 years, yes. He was already with us the last time we saw each other, actually. Guess it didn’t come up.”
Valentino knows how Marc feels about the boys. He apparently hasn’t changed his mind about them considering the barely hidden disgust layered on his face right now.
He made the mistake of calling Marc out on it by reminding him of his own story, asking him where he thought he would be if Dani hadn’t intervened, would he have such high morals now if he was still being a tool to the guy who turned him. The words he’d used hadn’t been nice, the tone he’d used to deliver them either.
Valentino still remembers Marc’s face going white first, and then a deep red, his body shaking, fists held tights at his sides.
Valentino had expected a fight. Verbal, physical, both. He’d gotten neither, radio silence from Marc for over a century instead.
Then one day, Valentino ran into Dani and Dani talked some sense into him, made Valentino see how much his association with the boys reminded Marc of the assholes who had captured Marc, no amount of “but I’m not like the piece of shit who turned Marc” powerful enough against the trauma Marc had to venture through before getting to where he was now.
Before leaving, Dani had said “You know, I think he’ll never stop feeling ashamed about this part of his story. You should feel privileged that he shared it with you to begin with,” and Valentino had felt the shittiest he’d been in literal decades.
Apologizing to Marc hadn’t been the easiest of things but here they were today, so.
“Right,” Marc says under him, his body still too taut for Valentino’s liking.
Valentino leans down, scrapes his teeth at the hinge of Marc’s jaw before kissing him there, working a path until his mouth reaches Marc’s lips.
Valentino presses a dry peck to Marc’s lips. Marc’s hand might relax at Valentino’s side, the tiniest amount.
“You came back,” Valentino mumbles against Marc’s skin, determined to change the course of the discussion. He’s loved to the other side of Marc’s face, nuzzling the underside of Marc’s jaw until he can bite his earlobe, making Marc squirm.
“What?”
“After your hunting session, you came back.”
Marc’s pushing his head to the side, baring his neck for Valentino to explore. Valentino can feel both of Marc’s hands on his sides now, one of them moving to Valentino’s lower back, pushing him down, looking for friction.
“Last I checked,” Marc says, voice a little breathy, a nice consequence of the still-wet thumb Valentino is using to rub on a nipple. “This is my place.”
Right. And you didn’t mind me staying while you were gone. You didn’t wait for me to leave before coming back. You didn’t kick me out after your bath.
Valentino isn’t sure what he wants to voice out loud. Isn’t sure what he wants to try to understand, really.
“Stop thinking so hard,” Marc admonishes, pushing one knee between Valentino’s legs, his upper thigh finding contact with Valentino’s dick. “It doesn’t look good on you.”
“Fuck you,” Valentino bites.
Under him, Marc grins. The light catches on his fangs.
#rpf#aflof#4693#my writing#this doesn't have everything I wanted but I don't know how to work on it more so here we go#set in an undecided year#might talk about other stuff another day
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Honeysuckle Rose • Part 4
part one part two part three
masterlist
mood board by @hephaestn
taglist: @ginabaker1666 @sagesolsticewrites @hephaestn @manonsmanicmind @derry-rain @bobparkhurst @bloodynereid
Her head leaning on her hand, her elbow on the table, Olive feels Valencia glance across at her. She has seen her eyes softening as James talks, unaware that her mouth is slightly agape. A sharp kick under the table snaps Olive out of her trance, Val shaking her head and smiling, those gorgeous red lips parting and showing her perfect teeth as she makes eye contact. “Breathe, Ollie,” she teases, as the boys engage in a conversation about something or another.
“Sorry,” Olive mumbles, awkwardly sipping her drink. “I'm not usually like this.”
“Maybe it's the booze?”
“Oh, probably. Yep, that's it. Not the most handsome man I've ever seen taking interest in me. Not that at all.”
“The most handsome, huh? Jesus, don't let him hear you say that.”
“Why not?” Olive giggles.
“He'll never fit his head through that door ever again. Not to mention us never hearing the end of it.”
“You girls wanna take a couple laps in the Jeep? Watch the sunrise?” Dougie asks, looking pointedly at Olive.
“We're all far too drunk to drive, Doug, and I ain't walking all that way,” he pauses for a moment, feeling Val's eyes focus on him. “Only walking my girl home.” The classic furrow softens immediately.
“That's what I thought, Everett. Good answer.”
“What do you say, Olive? Wanna take a walk with me?”
“Sure,” she replies, nervously. She glances over at Val, who nods towards her as Ev helps her with her jacket.
“Olive, see you tomorrow. Can you get here in time?”
“Oh, I'm sure I can,” a panic rising in her chest, hoping that somehow she was able to get back. Whether any time had passed between the two worlds, she had no idea and was terribly nervous to find out. Alas, she had to get home and check on Pearl, relieving Joan of her duties. But a few more moments with Dougie seemed so incredibly tempting that she felt herself taking his open hand and rushing out the door with him into the cold, morning air.
“You don’t have a jacket?” He asks as he sees her shiver the second the warm club is behind them.
“Didn't plan on staying this long, actually.”
He laughs a little, pulling off his own jacket. “Here,” he says, wrapping it around her shoulders. He pulls the sleeve up as she puts her arm in, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“What are you doing?”
“Wanna hold your hand.”
His hand slips into hers and they begin to head towards the hardstand. Olive, pontificating how to make a quick exit without seeming rude, is distracted from her thoughts by an orange ember coming towards her face. Holding a lit cigarette in front of her, she knows he expects her to take it in between her own fingers. Instead, she drags on it from where he holds it, not once breaking eye contact and his mouth drops open.
“So, uh,” he clears his throat, moving the cigarette back to his own mouth as soon as she has blown smoke from her lips. “Where did you grow up?”
“Here,” she smiles. “I just moved back from London.”
“London? Wow, why?”
“Oh, errm,” she stutters, trying to formulate a story that has little substance but is not a lie. “I, uh…lots of things. I had a few things not work out. My grandma took a fall just over a year ago and she needs a carer. I decided to come home and take over.”
“That's real nice of you, Ol. I'm sure she's grateful.”
“I'm sure, too. She'll never say it, she's a grumpy old girl. But, I love her. She's my pal. Taught me how to be tough and I'm thankful for that.”
“Tough, huh?”
“Mhm,” she nods, realizing they are almost at the aircraft she fell from this afternoon. “What about you?”
“Lansing, Michigan. You probably haven't–”
“Never heard of it,” they overlap, Olive giggling and instantly going to cover her mouth with her free hand.
“Hey, no. You gotta stop that.”
“Why, Dougie?”
“Because you have a pretty smile. And you shouldn't hide it, especially when it's me making you do the smiling, huh?”
A moment of silence passes between them as they reach the wing of Just A-Snappin, coming to a stop. His hand on her cheek, hers on his back. “Tell me more about Michigan,” she murmurs, their noses almost touching.
“It's real pretty,” he replies, his hand going from her cheek to her hair to move a strand that's blown in her face. “Real pretty in the fall especially.” He sighs, his thumb gently stroking her mouth. “I'll take you one day.”
“I'd love that,” she replies, moving closer. Just as their lips are about to meet, a loud, shrill horn noise is heard over the tannoy, followed by a thick accent.
“James Douglass,” it commands. “Put that girl down and get to bed!”
“Dammit, Red,” he mumbles, turning away for a second and squinting up at the tower. “I swear he has eyes in his ass, that guy.”
“Is this goodnight?” she asks, handing the jacket back.
“It is. I'm sorry. I wanted to walk ya home but–”
“Look,” she says, kissing him gently on the cheek. “The sun is rising.”
For a moment, he holds her close to him before breaking away, kissing her softly on the cheek, too.
“Goodnight, Olive,” he says, beginning to walk backwards towards his destination.
“Goodnight, Dougie.”
The second his back is turned, Olive begins to run in a full sprint towards the Red Cross Hut to retrieve her clothes. To her relief, Helen is snoring softly in the soft light of the sunrise, Val nowhere to be found. Assuming she's still with Ev somewhere around, she delicately places the dress upon her bunk, pushing out any wrinkles and creases with her hands. Pulling her shirt, overalls and boots back on, stuffing the headscarf in her top pocket, she makes a hasty exit, extremely careful to not disturb Helen. She sighs softly and turns over, causing Olive to freeze as she tiptoes towards the door. Luckily, she remains asleep, the rapid movement not waking her once.
Returning to the plane and making sure there are no eyes on her, Olive runs around to the hatch she stumbled out of earlier. Seeing it left open, she hesitates, trying to reason with herself to stay. Thoughts of how devastated Pearl would be creep into her mind, cementing the decision. With a sigh, she climbs in, somehow finding long forgotten core strength. She reaches down and shuts the door with a slam, waiting a few moments. Closing her eyes, she waits, the blazing afternoon sun coming through the windows causing her body to overheat instantly.
Sadness crawling all over her, she kicks the hatch open again, her body suddenly heavy. Jumping out much more gracefully this time, she lands heavily in her boots, the scene around her seemingly unchanged. The group of girls she had originally been with were back in their usual spot, Olive now traipsing over to them casually, trying not to be seen. Heather greets her with a smile, her absence apparently unnoticed.
“Taking a look at the plane?” She asks before the final crowd of school kids of the day make their way around the circuit.
“Something like that,” she titters, grabbing a rake. “What time is it?”
Heather raises an eyebrow as she looks at her watch, trying to gauge the time as the warm sun reflects the watch face. “Errrm, it's two pm.”
“Oh!” Olive says, surprised. Seemingly no time had passed at all.
—
“Hiya, Pearly Girly,” she greets, walking into the house. Kicking her boots off by the door, Olive begins to walk into the kitchen, reaching into the beige fridge to quickly gulp milk straight from the glass bottle that was delivered this morning.
“Hey, you,” Pearl greets, hobbling in with her stick. “Get a glass, for goodness sake!”
“I only wanted a gulp,” Olive laughs, now seeing that she'd somehow chugged half the bottle.
“Some things never change, do they? You've been doing that since you were wee.”
“Old habits die hard, Grandma. Where's Joan? Am I late?”
“No, doll,” Pearl says, shaking her head. “She's out in the garden. Funeral director called.”
“Ah, shit,” Olive replies, peeking out of the window that's shrouded by a worn net curtain. She sees Joan pacing up and down the garden path, arms crossed and face growing more furrowed each second. “I'll make her a cuppa. You want one too?”
“If there's any bloody milk left,” she teases, leaving the kitchen. Olive titters and shakes her head as her back turns, clicking the kettle on.
—
Pearl and Olive sit opposite one another, sipping from their mugs despite the boiling hot weather outside.
“So, good first day? How did you like it?”
“Oh, I loved it,” Olive replies, a huge smile on her face. “I met some really nice people. Red Cross girls, took me under their wing and–” Olive pauses, realizing what she has said, seeing Pearl’s confused face. It settles in an instant, the ringing in Olive's ears subsiding as she sees her face return to normal.
“I used to love their jumpsuits. The headscarves they'd wear through the day while their hair was setting for a night at the club. I was always envious. There I was, sweating, beetroot red with a rake and overalls, while they were there looking all glamorous, handing out coffee and donuts to these handsome men. I would've traded places in an instant.”
Olive giggles. “I don't blame you, Pearly. I bet they were all beautiful.”
“They were,” she says, wistfully. “There was one man that caught my eye right before we moved. I never got his name, nor did we ever speak but you bet your bottom I was sat watching his every move whenever I could. He always had this dog with him–”
Olive, taking a sip of tea, inhales at the wrong moment and chokes as she hears Pearl’s words. “Jesus, Olive,” she laughs, trying her best to throw a napkin her way. “Wrong pipe?”
“Oh, yeah,” she replies, coughing a few more times. “Something like that.” It couldn't be the same dog, the same man. Surely not? Shaking her head through the shock, Olive trying to make sense of everything that's happened in the past few hours, Joan enters the room looking a little less stressed than the last times Olive has seen her.
“Hi, Olive,” she smiles.
“Joan,” she greets. “How are you?”
“Oh, better now I've got that sorted. Funeral home wanted to go through the order of service, and wanted to know how long my grandson's speech was going to be. You know our Kyle can talk.” Joan looks at Olive, her lips pursed slightly. “You remember Kyle, Olive?”
“Oh, er, yeah. I sure do.” How could she forget? Seeing him on the train while on her way home had brought up so much disdain that she'd felt nauseous for hours afterwards. Kyle, the first and only guy she'd let break her heart, and she'd let him do it because he somehow broke through all the toughness Pearl had taught her - and used it to his advantage.
“I do wish you two had worked out–”
“I wish he'd have been able to control himself and not sleep with my best friend.”
“Olive!” Pearl scolds. Standing up, Olive announces her leave.
“I need to shower. Nice to see you, as always, Joan. See you tomorrow.”
—
Olive sits on her bed, wrapped in a towel and tries to breathe slowly. Laying down on the bed, her wet hair soaking into the pillow case, she closes her eyes and begins to try and ‘center herself,’ an exercise she'd been taught in Movement Class at drama school. Feeling her lungs inflate and holding her breath for just a moment, Olive hears a small knock on her door.
“Ollie Pop?” Pearl calls, her voice etched with concern. “You alright?”
Breathing out slowly, Olive sits up. “Come in, Grandma.” As she does so, she puffs heavily and sits on the bed beside her.
“I like our Joan, but her grandson is a twat.”
“Granny!” Olive shrieks.
“What? You know if I curse, it's serious. He is. A stupid one at that.”
“Yeah,” she replies, sighing. “Besides,” she pauses, the panic attack pushed aside. “I'm a tough girl. Just like my Grandma.”
—
Laying in the softly lit room as the sun rises, Olive tries her best to read by the glowing lamplight emanating from her bedside table. The words scattering on the page, blurring into one another, she snaps it shut and sits up quickly as her alarm clock beeps, not wasting a single moment. Despite a night of minimal sleep, Olive gets ready in a flash, trying her best to remain as quiet as possible to not disturb Pearl who she can hear snoring from her room. Opening the door with a small creak, Olive smiles sweetly as her beloved Grandma sleeps peacefully, pictures of her husband on display on the table directly next to the bed. Closing the door quietly, Olive goes to the kitchen and boils the kettle for her morning green tea, waiting for Joan to come take over. Despite Olive figuring out that only a little time passes between worlds, she does not want to risk Pearl ever being left alone. Sipping at the hot liquid, she watches the sunrise through the garden window. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, her mind goes back to the previous sunrise she saw, under the wing of a plane with Dougie.
Finishing her tea, Olive quickly runs back to her room to collect her dog-eared copies of A Midsummer Night's Dream and The Tempest, hoping to find time for some light reading throughout the day. Joan arrives soon after, instantly apologizing for yesterday as she walks through the door, eyes wide with anxiety.
“Joan,” Olive says, waving her apology away. “Not you that should be apologizing really. You're fine. It's fine and we're fine.”
“Phew, good. Our Pearl awake yet?” Olive shakes her head.
“Not yet. She seemed to fall asleep pretty quickly last night, too.”
“She's a lot more relaxed now you're here, Ol. She knows you're safe and I think that pleases her.”
“I'm glad to be here,” she pauses, smiling awkwardly. “Right, off to work!”
“Do you need something for lunch?”
“No, thanks,” she smiles, quickly adjusting her headscarf. “I'll grab a donut.”
—
Practically skipping to the airplane, she takes a quick look around to make sure nobody has eyes on her. Only a few early morning museum visitors are around, going into the building itself, trying to keep out of the cool morning air. Satisfied that nobody can see her, she clambers into the plane, body flopping into the aircraft like a hard loaf of bread.
“I gotta get better at this,” she murmurs to herself, wincing as her core tightens. Leaning down, she slams the door shut and waits. A dog barks in the distance, her eyes clamped shut in fervent hope. She opens her eyes and gently fiddles with the door, her head sticking out slightly. Waiting on the ground is Meatball, tail wagging the second he sees Olive.
“Hi, buddy,” Olive squeaks when she lands on the floor, a lot more graceful than yesterday's breathtaking bump. “Good morning!” Taking him by the leash, she retrieves her bag and begins to walk to the Clubmobile.
“Hey!” She hears as her back is turned. “Who said you could take my dog?” There's Benny, a playful smile on his face that Olive instantly reciprocates.
“He did, actually. Waiting right there to greet me.”
He laughs, leaning down to stroke the dog. “He just was excited to see his new best friend.”
“And so was I,” she replies, handing the leash to him. “I'd better run. Can't be late for my first day!”
—
“Aaah! You're here!” Val squeals, squeezing Olive into a quick embrace. “Come on,” she says, taking her by the hand and leading her to the hut. “Tat got a uniform for you, Lord knows where from but I gave her my measurements and what do you know, there was one spare, exactly your–our size.”
Hanging on the small locker next to a bunk, is a blue jumpsuit, emblazoned with the American Red Cross logo on one pocket.
“Here's your space,” Val says, gesturing towards the locker. “We have our own showers so we keep most of our stuff in there, toiletries, make up, what have you. We usually use this for trinkets, but decorate how you see fit, doll.”
Placing her satchel on the bed, Olive removes her clothes and slips into the jumpsuit, it fitting her like a glove. She stuffs The Tempest into one of the huge pockets while Val takes in her new look.
“Oh!” Val gasps, hands on her cheeks. “Don't you look adorable! Wait til Dougie sees you!” Rolling her eyes, Olive looks in the mirror one final time before heading to the door of the hut, Val close behind.
“Helen is already there,” she says, linking her arm with Olive's. “We'd better get there before she's rushed off her feet! Most of the boys are on the ground today, but they'll still be wanting coffee and donuts from us.”
“Makes sense,” Olive responds, waving to Tattie as she zooms past in her Jeep. She waves back, a smile on her face, the wind of the cool morning blowing through her perfectly styled hair.
“Tattie gets a Jeep?” Olive enquires, hoping there's no tone of malice within her question.
“Oh, yeah,” Val says, nodding. “She's the head honcho. She's General Spaatz's daughter, after all.”
“I dunno who that is, Val. Enlighten me.”
“In simple terms? Commander of the Eighth. That's all I know, to be honest. Don't make me go further than that, because I simply couldn't tell you.” She grins, flashing those beautiful teeth. “I'm so glad you came.”
“Me, too.”
—
“Olive! You're here!” Helen shouts through the hatch of the Clubmobile. Climbing down the stairs, she greets her new friend with a hug. Not used to this much affection all at once, Olive basks in it, feeling her face glow.
“Morning, Helen. Thanks for fixing up the bed.”
“You're so welcome, Ol. Nobody will be itching in our house! Not on my watch.”
“You'd think that should be the nurse's job, but here we are.” Val says, her tone scathing as she leans on the counter, flicking through a new copy of Screen Romances, Laraine Day and Robert Young upon the cover, cheeks pressed together.
“Oh, I love Screen Romances,” Olive pipes up as Val reads through, that famous furrow brought out in concentration. “The gossip columns are savage.”
“Oh, they so are,” Val responds, looking up, her eyes rolling slightly. “I live for it. I love the cattiness, the scathing remarks. Ugh, wonderful. I'll let you know if anything juicy comes up,” she says, nodding towards the hatch. “Someone's here to see you.”
“Donut from the prettiest girl in East Anglia, please.”
“Hey, Dougie,” she blushes, leaning out of the truck slightly.
“Look at you,” he says, biting his lip a little. “Blue really is your color.”
“Oh, stop,” she replies, cheeks glowing even redder. “You're just angling for an extra donut.”
“Maybe,” he says, leaning up to meet her in the hatch. “And a kiss.”
“Well, handsome, I can only give you one of those things right now,” she says, a donut in hand. “Meatball hair free, too. Must be your lucky day.”
“It sure is. Can I get a coffee too? Just cream.”
“Coming right up. No sugar?”
“Not when you're around. I'm sweet enough on you.”
“Are you trying to make me keel over?” She scolds, pouring the coffee into the cup. Brow furrowed, she hands him the cup, followed by a quick smile.
“Jeez, too much time with Valencia already. You've got that furrow perfected.”
“Maybe it was always within her, James,” she shouts, head still buried in the magazine. “Little help from me, and you being insufferable brings the best furrows out in people.” Olive shakes her head, giggling at the banter between the two.
“Will you be at the club later?” Dougie asks, sipping the coffee.
“I assume so,” Olive shrugs. “Why?”
“Oh, no reason,” he teases, winking as he walks away.
“She's right,” Olive shouts from the Clubmobile. “You are insufferable.”
—
Both Dougie and Benny turn the second Olive enters the club, linked arm in arm with Val and Helen who stand either side of her. She meets the eyes of either man in turn, feeling her cheeks glow with that familiar heat the second she makes eye contact with Dougie.
“I saw that,” Helen teases as they sit down, the same table as the previous evening. “You smiled when you saw Benny…”
“Helen–” Olive cuts her off, her cheeks now red with embarrassment instead of the previous limerence.
“But I saw that twinkle in your eye when Dougie looked at you.”
Val nods enthusiastically, lighting a cigarette before offering one to her companions. Her attention on them is taken away the moment Everett walks up to the table, her eyes glowing as he greets her with a kiss on the cheek.
Olive feels a presence behind her, before a glass - an Old Fashioned - is put at her place on the table. She turns to see Dougie, standing behind her chair with a whiskey in his hand.
“Thanks,” she says, demurely, hoping that the blushing is now at bay.
“You owe me a dance later,” he says, winking as he walks back to the bar before she can even muster an answer.
“Does he always do that?” she asks, turning to Val and Ev. “Ask a question then piss off to the other end of the room?” The couple and Helen burst out laughing at her tone, still not quite used to Olive's dry British humor. Not able to contain her own laughter due to theirs, she tries to pull herself together to reiterate the question. Ev is the first to compose himself, Val dabbing at his eyes with her handkerchief as he gasps for air a final time.
“Nah, not always,” he finally says, looking for his friend at the bar. “He's just nervous, I think.”
—
Feeling a wet nose at her bare ankle, Olive squeals and finds Meatball under the table.
“Aaah, hi buddy!” she says, placing her drink on the table and beginning to pet him. “Were you good today? We missed you!”
“Speak for yourself,” Val mumbles under her breath as she reapplies her lipstick , only loud enough for Olive to hear, causing her to shoot her a glance and giggle. Making sure Benny didn't hear, she smiles up at him.
“Hi, Benny. How was your day?”
“Better now for seeing you. Let me get this fella squared away. D'you wanna dance?”
“Love to,” she grins, placing her jacket on her chair. Val winks at her as she exits, clutching Benny's arm as he gives the dog to Buck and a few men around him before leading her to the dancefloor.
“I'm warning you, Benny,” she begins as they begin to sway together. “I'm not much of a dancer. I hope you enjoyed having toes.”
“I'm just as bad, don't worry. Just wanted a moment alone with you.”
“That's sweet,” she replies, smiling as she places a hand on his shoulder.
“So, how was your first day?”
“Oh, it was wonderful, thanks.” And she means it. It's the most fulfilled she's felt in years, these new people welcoming her and taking her under their wing. Everything that went wrong in London feels like a million light-years away; and being here, maybe it is. Benny narrows his eyes at her answer, trying to gauge any hint of sarcasm he may have missed. She shoves him playfully as they dance, giggling a little. “I'm being serious, Benny. It's exactly what I need.”
“If you say so,” he replies, smiling as he spins her away from him. With that spin, she crashes into none other than James Douglass, who automatically takes her in his arms.
“Dog needs taking out, Benny,” he teases, gripping Olive's hand. He quickly spins her to a new spot on the dancefloor and grins. “Told ya, you owed me a dance.”
“I didn't hear you asking, James,” she teases, feeling her cheeks flush as his hand lands on the small of her back. “It was more of a statement.”
“Right, right,” he says, breaking away. “Will you dance with me?”
“Yes, I will. But you'd better apologize to Demarco when he gets back.”
“Oh, I'm not sorry for anything, doll.” She tuts at him, letting him lead her nonetheless. Him touching her feels like lighting coursing through her veins, feeling her hair stand up on end. He moves closer as the band slows, their noses almost beginning to touch as they move in unison to the swelling music. Her inhale becoming his exhale, she moves and plants a soft kiss on his neck. She feels him gasp into her ear and it's enough to make her weak at the knees. Looking over his shoulder, she sees a light begin to flash red above the door.
“Hey,” she murmurs, gesturing towards the light with a movement of her head. “Does that mean something?” He turns and looks, his eyes suddenly downcast as he sighs.
“Ah, shit. Yeah.”
“I'll walk ya home,” Benny pipes up, suddenly behind them.
“Nah, I got it, Benny,” James replies, taking his grip off Olive.
“No,” Benny says, a little sternly. “I'll do it. Olive, you ready?”
“It's fine, I can–” she tries to say, but is once again cut off by incessant squabbling, the two men fighting like catty school children. Looking towards Val for help, Olive sees Everett talking to a man with big brown eyes, hair slicked back into a soft pomp, his body seemingly racked with anxiety. Everett and Val gently push him in Olive's direction, him ushering her away unnoticed.
“Thanks,” she sighs, staring into the pretty cow eyes of the man that rescued her.
“No problem. Harry Crosby,” he says, gesturing to himself, a hand on his chest as he introduces himself.
“Hey, Harry. Olive.” He stretches a hand out and she shakes it.
“I heard the commotion. I'm heading back to write to my wife. She would never let me live it down if I wasn't a gentleman to others. I'll walk ya home, Olive.”
“Oh, Harry. That's so kind. Thank you.”
As he holds the door open for her, she hears the arguing come to a sudden stop followed by a surprised “Crosby?!” and Val storming up to them. “Stupid boys,” is all she hears as she exits the club with Harry, her arm linked platonically with his.
#masters of the air#mota#masters of the air fic#mota fic#Honeysuckle Rose#Olive Lewis#masters of the air x oc#benny demarco#James Douglass#everett blakely#oc: olive lewis#oc: valencia dirosano#just a snappin#time travel#1940s#ww2#wwii#winnie writes
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3.119 Sparkly eyes
After enduring so much pain and heartache, adrenaline coursed through our veins, and our hearts pounded with excitement. We had to get out and celebrate our new chapter and returned to that fancy restaurant in Tartosa. Sophia glowed with joy over her pregnancy, and the sizzling hot leather dress she put on only made her even more stunning. Her radiant smile illuminated the entire place, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of joy and contentment. The way that dress clung to her curves accentuated her little baby bump, making her even more captivating. She had a gentle sway in her step and moved with a newfound grace. As for me, the weight of our struggles lifted, and I felt a surge of confidence I hadn't experienced in a very long time. I stood taller and squared my shoulders, dripping triumph and pride and newfound purpose. Other diners glanced at us as we strolled by, swagged out in all black. If they thought we were celebrities, I wouldn't blame them. We certainly felt like millionaires.
The hosted placed us in what I felt was the best seat in the house. We were inside, but right on the edge of the patio that had a great view of the ocean. As if on cue, as soon as I opened the menu, my phone rang; it was my sister. A lingering unease from last night made me hesitant to answer, especially knowing whatever she had to say might sour my mood. It wasn't just her unexpected pregnancy that unsettled me; it was the persistent apathy and weirdness I dealt with my entire life. I was at a place in my life where I wanted peace, and more often than not, she disrupted my peace. But despite my reservations, I answered the call. She was my sister, after all, and I loved her. As soon as I picked up, she dove straight into gossiping about Mama and Dwayne without so much as a greeting, causing my eyes to roll. She said something about an argument and him storming out of the house but didn't overhear any details.
Women were funny creatures and did weird stuff of whom Mama and Alessia were chief. I didn't think I would ever understand them and had to learn to be okay with that. So many questions came to mind, particularly why Mama wouldn't marry Dwayne, but frankly, I didn't care. That subject always disrupted my peace, and my wife's sparkling eyes beckoned for my attention. I told Less I was out with Sophia and would see her tomorrow at the party.
The ambiance in the restaurant seemed to match our high spirits. Soft music floated in the background, mixing with the clinking of glasses and low hum of conversation. The setting sun cast a warm glow on the patio that mirrored the warmth in our hearts. We finally broke free from the emotional prison that had trapped us. Everything felt brand new and wonderful as we rejoiced in the moment. We savored every bite of our meals, cherished each other's company, and laughed louder than ever before. The life we dreamed of was finally within our grasp, and every touch, every taste was a celebration of that victory we fought so hard to reach. We were invincible. Nothing could dampen our spirits or dim the sparkle in our eyes.
The sun had completed its descent by the time we finished dinner. I still had so much excitement brewing inside and wasn't ready to go home yet, so I asked Sophia to dance. The restaurant wasn't designed for dancing, but she didn't let that bother her like they do in the movies. She got up immediately, grabbed my hand, and pressed her body against mine. Her baby bump was so small, but I loved feeling it pressed into my stomach as we danced. It was odd, but I really felt like there were three of us present in that moment.
"How do you feel?" I asked.
"I'm good," she purred. "I'm better than good."
She turned around and gazed at the ocean, caressing her belly so tenderly. Knowing the baby couldn't feel what she was doing, could it feel the loving energy emanating from her hands? Did it know how much we loved it despite not being fully developed yet?
"I'm glad to hear it... Are you scared at all?"
"About which part?"
"I guess... The part where we're in charge of this little sim for the next 63 days and making sure they turn out decent."
"Hmmm...that does sound daunting. I'm not scared, though."
"Yeah?"
She turned around to face me, assaulting me with those sparkly eyes, and my readiness to return home increased exponentially.
"You're a good sim...I'm a good sim. We make a great team, and between us both, we have enough examples of what not to do, so I think the odds are in our favor," she said.
"That's a good way to put it."
She reached for my hands and held them gently.
"Let's promise that we'll always make time for this," she said.
"Date nights?"
"Maybe. I mean, let's make sure we always have time for us, no matter what that looks like."
I knew exactly what she meant because I saw it play out despite my parents' estrangement. Mama was always so wrapped up in making sure we felt loved and comfortable. She didn't really start taking time for herself until we were well into our teens, and Dad started much later. Raising children took a lot of effort and energy, and I watched my parents get sucked into our atmosphere time after time. My child wasn't even born yet, and it still consumed many of my thoughts. And knowing how mesmerized we'd be after its born, we definitely needed to make that promise. My love for Sophia will never die, but I could see us sacrificing our togetherness for the sake of our child's well-being, especially after working so hard to bring it into the world.
"I promise I will always make time to celebrate us."
#ISBI challenge#sims 4 story#sims 4 gameplay#adolting#adolting gen 3#luca winston murillo#sophia aguilar#I was mad at them for wearing changing into their birthday party fits#but I couldn't stay mad for long 😍🎉
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Chapter 4: Splash Zone
From: The Rainmaker Series
Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader
Summary: Ups and downs are just another part of your week. This time, it would seem all the ups have to do with Steve.
Word count: 3,969
Content/warnings: swears, mean coworker Det. John Walker, nice coworker Det. Scott Lang, a gift, boxing and punching, puddles, verbal altercations, hidden happiness and feelings, hidden occupations, unwanted attention, wanted attention (not from the same person)
Author’s Note: Enjoy this next installment of the awkward little bean and his journey of getting the cold scientist to warm up to him.
I love hearing your feedback! I’d appreciate it more than you know if you took the time to leave an ask, comment, or reblog in addition to your like. Thank you for reading!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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You came in to work on Tuesday afternoon to a gift basket waiting at your desk - the desk outside just outside the lab that you hardly used since you were so swamped with cases lately. You were set to work well past midnight tonight, and had only packed a lunch, so you were sure the little snacks you could see peeking through the clear packaging would prove helpful for the hours you planned on being glued to screens doing data analysis. You could definitely swing doing all your work out here instead of cooped up for once.
Not only was there a gift basket, but a decently large paper bag sitting on your desk that had seemingly already been ripped open. Great. Someone already contaminated the crime scene. As you peeked over the cellophane wrapping of the obscenely large basket, you were greeted by a certain detective, leaning back in your rolling chair, feet kicked up on the desk, to-go container and fork in hand.
“Hey, Decky! About time you came in. Your pasta was getting cold, so I thought I’d help you out with it. There’s so much here!”
Your brows furrowed as you observed detective Lang slurping down a bite of carbonara, the container already half gone.
“What the hell, Scott? What is going on?”
Scott shrugged and used his fork to swirl up another bite. “What? Not like you were gonna finish all of that pasta in one go. Figured I’d take some off your hands.”
“Wha-“ you stood there, flabbergasted, mouth opening and closing while you contemplated your next words. You grabbed the receipt on the paper bag to see the contents listed, with ‘SR’ written in red sharpie at the bottom. It looked like it was all your favorites from Steve’s restaurant, plus some new items.
Your confusion increased as you pushed Scott’s feet off your desk and scooted over to read the card on the gift basket.
“Sorry our night got a little interrupted. Buck appreciates the kindness, though. Feel free take it all out on me. I’ve got a knock-out time planned for us. -SR”
There was an address on the back and an additional note for you to meet him there after your Thursday shift. And to… wear athletic clothes? What?
An amused smile began to creep onto your lips before the realization came crashing down and you whipped around. “Hold on a second, what the fuck, Scott!? You’re eating my gift!! Not to mention something that a civilian dropped off at a police precinct. That could have been poisoned!”
Scott laughed as he set down his fork in the container. “Nah, I knew it at least wasn’t poisoned. One of Steve’s guys dropped it off.”
You grabbed the lid off your desk and placed it on Scott’s pasta container before ripping it from his hands. “Hey! I wasn’t done yet!”
He leaned forward to grab it back out of your hands before you whisked it away again. “Ah ah, no. Answer my questions first and then you can have my pasta back.”
Scott sighed exasperatedly, his shoulders slumping forward. “Okay, fine. What do you want to know? That’s really good carbonara and I want it back ASAP.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s why it was sent to me. Now, tell me how you know one of Steve’s guys dropped it off… and what do you mean by ‘Steve’s guys?’”
Scott shrugged again. Some detective he was. “I don’t know. I was at my desk when I saw it all get delivered. You know how Steve is. He’s got those delivery boys that help him out. Sure, I consider him a pal but I don’t ask too many questions about that. I understand he’s a busy guy. You’re just lucky I commandeered the area before Walker caught a whiff. That’s literally all I know. Now it’s time for you to answer my question.”
You rolled your eyes and begrudgingly handed him back the container. “Okay fine. You’re lucky I like you way better than that street rat, Walker. You get one question. One.”
Scott smirked at you as he popped off the lid and threw it back over your desk calendar. “Now I know Steve and I are well acquainted, but what’s he doing sending you things? You do him a special favor or something?”
You sighed and crossed your arms and legs, leaning back and squinting at your closest work friend. “First of all, that was two questions. And second of all, no. You know I’m not in the habit of sharing confidential information. If you must know, Steve and I are…friends. And we hung out, like once…or twice, but there was kind of a wrench thrown in the second one. I think this is his way of making it up to me.”
His grin grew toothy. “Yeah, okay. ‘Friends.’” He put up his hand that wasn’t holding food in air quotes. “Whatever you say, bud. Steve and I have been friends for half a decade, but you don’t see me getting gift baskets and lunch deliveries.”
You shook your head as you spun his chair around and nudged it forward for him to get out. “Well, I wouldn’t complain if I were you, bud, because you’ve evidently benefitted from the gift nonetheless. Don’t you have crimes to solve?”
Scott hopped out of the chair with a startle at your aggressive push. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Enjoy your little present from your boy. I’ll be back later to talk to you about those tests you ran last last week I asked for. And for some snacks.” He winked before running off, ducking to scarf down the rest of his meal.
You sighed before plopping down into your seat and hiding behind the basket and your computer monitor, trying to keep your excitement under wraps. You untied the ribbon at the top of the present and pulled down the rustling covering to finally take a look at everything inside. The contents were…broad… to say the least.
On top were some scrunchies, the exact ones you loved to use to pull your hair back in the lab, actually. And under that were duplicates of all the snacks Steve had brought over to your place the previous weekend that you still had in abundance.
Your cabinets were going to be endlessly stocked at this rate. In there, too, you found an adorable teddy bear dressed up in a suit. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it was supposed to look like someone who was growing all too familiar. But next to it was also a stuffed hedgehog and otter wearing the same? He must’ve seen your one hedgehog flower pot on the mantle and assumed it was your favorite. Now the otter, that was an interesting choice, although not unfounded. Maybe he knew you were a card carrying member of the zoo and aquarium.
Speaking of flower pots, though, as you dug to the bottom to see an assortment of candles, your perusing of the varieties of scents was cut short by another delivery.
Two men came in holding flower pots and vases. From what you could make out, there was a small cactus and a fern, and a large arrangement that seemed to hold one of every single type and color of flower under the sun being carried by the first man. You peered over the contents of your desk to see Detective Lang nodding at you. Great, this was drawing attention.
The second delivery boy came with a huge vase full of red roses, to which Scott shrugged and shook his head, pointing and mouthing, “that one’s not one of Steve’s guys,” to you.
Before you could get up to even look at the cards to the flowers, a manifestation of the unwanted attention you had garnered was sauntering over to your desk in the form of Detective John Walker. Literally the worst guy here. The only reason he was a detective was because he was so focused on pleasing the dude bros of superior management, but God forbid he take advice from you or any female officer on the force.
Before you could stop him, he reached out and grabbed the card out of the roses. “Got a secret admirer, Decky?”
You rolled your eyes, tempted to slap his hand and keep him away from your stuff. “Don’t call me that. Only friends call me that.”
He laughed as he read the small piece of card stock he fiddled with between his fingers. “What about Lucas Bell? Seems like he’s a friend, and maybe more than that for sending you a bouquet like this.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. Lucas? You searched through the other arrangements to see if there was another card, which you found in the colorful, less aggressive bouquet. SR. Somehow the both of them had sent you flowers on the same day? What was Lucas doing sending you flowers? You literally never talked to him. You made sure of that as much as possible. It was so odd.
From what you could gather, Steve had sent you the gorgeous flowers, along with the potted plants, and a single wooden yellow rose you hadn’t noticed before. Sure, it was… a lot, but it was tasteful, and something about it made you warm. Poor thing really just sent one of everything possible, but it was the kindest gesture that had happened for you in a long time. If this was the apology you got for something as simple as an interruption from Bucky on something you weren’t even sure was a date, then there’s no telling what else Steve could possibly have up his sleeve. His ridiculous, designer sleeve.
In a strong juxtaposition, though, looking at the bouquet from Lucas almost made you sick to your stomach. Such a forward flower to send out of the blue to someone who you almost never talk to. You knew you couldn’t call and complain to your mom about this, either, because she’d say something about him being so sweet and famous. Like those were good markers in a partner: fake television demeanor qualities.
Walker set down the card again and began to rifle through the contents of your gift basket. “Man, looks like Lucas really wants you to go on a date with him. Sent you all these sweets and said so in the card. Mind if I steal some?”
This time you did smack John’s hand, giving him a scowl. “This isn’t all from Lucas. Only those stupid roses over there are. And no, you can’t have anything. This is my stuff. God, for being a detective you’re terrible at reading the room. Now leave.”
Walker raised his hands in compliance and walked away. “Damn, okay. Don’t think it’s fair Lang gets pasta and I get hit, but whatever. Enjoy your love letters.”
You rolled your eyes before going over to the other side of the desk and reading the card from the roses. As much as you hated it, Walker was right. Lucas was asking to meet up. Just for a nice walk along the river. Sure, that seemed like an enjoyable activity, but only with someone you knew well enough to hold conversation. And he was more of the type to talk at you than with you.
You took the vase of roses over to the break room, placing them on the center of the table and shoved the card in your desk drawer before sitting back down again at the space cleared of everything except for what Steve had sent. When you peered around, you were satisfied by the reduction in glares your way as you sniffed through the remaining candle scents and chose what pasta to eat while working through your shift. Only Detective Lang was witness to the dopey smile on your face.
By the time Thursday had come around, you had finished all of your pasta leftovers and burned through a candle and a half, thoroughly enjoying all Steve had left you, even though you could tell some of the items were him throwing darts at a wall and hoping one would hit just right. But the thing was, just about everything in that basket was a straight bullseye.
You parked your car and got out on the busy street, dressed in a pantsuit from having to stand witness in a trial earlier. You were in the middle of a city block with shop windows recessed into the ground, standing at the top of a staircase, preparing to head down with a bag containing your athletic clothes in hand. You tightened the hair held up with your new scrunchie and took a deep breath. It looked like an old gym. Not quite what you expected, so you pulled out your phone to double check you got the right place. In your state of minor distraction, you just barely clocked the sound of shouting and pounding footsteps coming from your side. But by the time you looked up to see a man sprinting towards you, it was too late. He shoved you out of his way, down into a puddle. You were barely able to sit up enough to see someone else chasing him, far behind and much slower. You squinted as the form changed from a jog to a walk and came into focus. Walker. He threw his arms up in exasperation when he saw it was you.
“Way to fucking go, Decks. You let my perp get away!”
You stood up out of the stagnant water, brushing yourself off ineffectively as it had already soaked into the material. Luckily, you were going to be changing soon anyway, but after that and everything else, today was not the day for Walker to get all high and mighty with you.
“Walker, that’s not my job. How was I supposed to know that was your perp? Or a perp at all?”
He rolled his eyes and threw his hands to his hips, looking at your bag that still was thrown to the side on the ground, not making an effort to pick it up. “Who else would be running in a city? Obviously someone guilty!”
You bent down to grab the dusty duffle and slung it over your shoulder, cocking your head to your side. Your voice was becoming sharper, meaner. “People run in the city all the time, but that’s besides the point. How am I supposed to ID any of your perps if you refuse to tell anyone about your cases or let them help you until it’s too late? The reason that guy got away is your fault because I wasn’t properly informed. Maybe if you weren’t so wrongfully prideful and said where you were going or who you were going after before you left, you could’ve had backup. From someone actually on shift.”
Walker groaned and straightened his arm out past your shoulder, gesturing towards the direction where the man ran. “I was assuming you would take on that responsibility and be able to see the man very evidently running away from me, but no, you were stupid. Just like how you were about Lucas Bell. Maybe if you were smart, you would’ve taken him up on that date. Yeah, I saw how you discarded those roses. But just like the way you shove off your work, you shoved him off.”
You scoffed. Your annoyance made it so you couldn’t hear a jingle of a bell from the door down the steps behind you open while John was yapping on and on. “What does that have to do with anything right now!? Walker, I don’t shove off work, and if I’m stupid, you’re a literal brick. I’ve told you time and time again, I’m working dozens of cases at a time to your one, so you can hop off my back. Plus, I’m not a detective, but by the fact that you are, I can’t believe you’d be so brainless.”
You watched as his boastfully broad shoulders began to slump into an almost cowering form, so you kept going. “And what’s up with your obsession with Lucas Bell? I see the way you throw yourself at him at every crime scene. Do you think he’s going to give you some sort of connection? You’re a cop. You should be the one with connections! Is it a crush? Go home. To. Your. Wife.”
You were heaving breaths after your rant as you felt a presence loom over your shoulder. You turned to see what it was, only to be met by a familiar chest, upon which sat a head of messy blond hair, connected by a pair of shoulders that were begging to be let out of the confines of their white t-shirt and a thick neck somewhere in the middle. Steve.
He looked down and gave you a smile before shooting an intimidating gaze at Walker. “I believe you heard her. Go. Home.”
John simply nodded and turned to jog away in the direction from where he came, not daring to look back.
Your eyes stayed on Steve, but you didn’t share his smile, still frustrated with the situation. “I was handling that.”
He simply nodded, grabbing your bag off your shoulder and putting his hand on the small of your back to guide your down the stairs. “I could tell. You were doing a great job. Bullies need stood up to. I really don’t like them.”
You laughed dryly, walking through the door he held open for you. “Yeah, he’s pretty much as awful as it gets.”
You walked in to see the old gym, occupied mostly by a bunch of older guys using punching bags on the other side of a boxing ring, but otherwise empty. No one even spared the two of you a confused or judging glance. Steve gently directed you to the back of the room, handing your bag back and gesturing to a locker room. “You can go ahead and change in here. No one will bother you. And then come find me in the ring.”
He left you with a wink and a pat on the back.
Throwing endless punches was just what you needed after that whole altercation with Walker, and Steve was more than happy to oblige. He stood opposite you in the ring, giving small directions and corrections you were taking exceptionally well. After the initial rage wore off, the two of you stopped for water.
Steve handed you your bottle as he took a sip of his own. He had been relatively quiet so far, so you decided to ask him a question that was on your mind. “So why here? Why’d you want to go boxing?”
That wasn’t a question he was expecting, and it wasn’t one he wanted to truthfully answer. Sure, the two of you had hung out before, but this isn’t the usual destination of a date, much less a third date. If he was being honest, it was because he wanted to make sure you knew self defense. With your proximity to him and Bucky, it wasn’t out of the question that you might need those skills if the time came. When the time came, when he could finally bring himself to tell you about his job outside of the businesses you knew.
Instead, he just shrugged one shoulder, sliding the sparring mitts back on his hands. “Thought it might be a good release of pent up energy. Lang told me you had to sit for a court case today, figured you’d want to blow off some steam. And now that I see what other stuff you’ve got to deal with on a daily basis, I’m wondering why I haven’t asked you to join me every day. You need it after working with a douche like Walker. Although, I’m not sure if my poor hands could handle much more.”
He feigned a pout as you let out a breathy laugh, putting your gloves back on, as well, agreeing with his assessment. As the two of you stepped back into the center of the ring and started another round, albeit slower, Steve piped up. “Okay, my turn. What’s the deal with Lucas Bell? I heard you two talking about him. Did you guys mean the news reporter?”
You sighed, doing your best to keep a rhythm to your punches and ducking under Steve’s arm. “Uh, yeah. That’s the one. Lucas and I grew up together, so he contacts me every now and again. Sent flowers to my work the other day. Asked to take me for a date on the riverwalk, but I turned it down.”
Steve shuffled lightly on his feet, keeping you on your toes. He did his best to imbue his tone with genuine curiosity and nothing else. “Why’d you say no?”
You stopped in your tracks, but kept your arms up. “Well, do you think I should’ve said yes?”
Steve felt something in his gut at that. Of course he didn’t want you to have said yes, but he had no jurisdiction over that. And he still wasn’t exactly sure what was going on between the two of you. Whether or not you considered it friendship or something more like he had wanted it to be. “Well, I’m not in charge of you.”
You nodded and went back to throwing soft punches. “That’s right. But you should know, he’s historically not my favorite. He’s nice and all, I guess, but I honestly can’t stand him. Never been able to since we were kids. Everyone always thought it was nice that he would bring me flowers and stuff but it was just obsessive and weird to me. I never bought into his charms like all our neighbors expected me to. Anyway, I enjoy someone else’s company a little more.”
Steve hung on to the last part of your statement. Were you talking about him? He hoped so. But after getting caught up in the thought of that, he didn’t realize he had stopped moving until you gave him a punch on the shoulder.
Instead of flinching or being upset, though, he just shared your playful smirk at the dreamy look on his face and replied with a quip. “C’mon, Decky. You can hit harder than that. Where’s all that energy? I thought the pasta I sent you would have helped to carboload for today.”
You laughed and mixed it with a deep breath before going back in, harder. “Oh trust me, I could do this all day. And thanks for that gift by the way, it was really nice of you.”
Your eyes caught his sparkling blue ones for a second, sharing sincerity. “Any time. Honestly. You can go into any of my restaurants whenever you want and get anything you desire. On me. Just say your name and they’ll know.”
You shook your head free of his earnest gaze. “Steve, that’s no way to run a business. You can’t just give handouts to everyone.”
“They’re not for everyone. Just for you. Let me do this. That way you never have to worry about cooking for yourself on those hard days when you get home late. You can enjoy a carefree night out, or the celebration of a solved case. Let me at least do that for you.”
You finally relented, dropping your head to your chest before finally beginning to punch Steve’s hands as hard as you were at the beginning of the session. You next word came through clenched teeth, partially from his persistence and the smile you were trying to bite back at just how giving he was willing to be for you. “Fine.”
Steve smiled brightly at your new found energy and the acceptance of his offer. “Atta girl.”
Next >
Bonus A/N: we all know a Walker, but we all deserve to know a Steeb
Series Taglist: @evie-119
#Steve rogers#Steve rogers fanfiction#Steve rogers x reader#mob Steve x forensic scientist reader#the rainmaker#the rainmaker series#outta nowhere AU#Steve x decks#mob! Steve x forensic scientist! reader#mob Steve#mob! Steve#mafia Steve#mafia! Steve#Scott lang#marvel#mcu#detective lang#John Walker#detective Walker#boxing#kickboxing#gift basket#flowers#potted plants#pasta#the rainmaker: chapter 4#chapter 4: splash zone#the rainmaker chapter 4: splash zone
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for anyone wondering where i've been: i got... distracted... by a potential huge project. I was considering running a mcrp project/smp project, inspired by stuff like fan life series servers, with the rest of the sexyman team! but... a different one. a very specific one, even.
now, I'm aware there are probably outstanding questions, so if you're uncertain, please read more event/server details below the cut and see if it interests you!
I don't know anything about Survivor–what would this show even be like?
so if you know nothing about survivor, it's easy to think it's a show about surviving on a deserted island. it is that, but it's not mainly that. survivor, at its heart, is a social deception game, about making close alliances, betraying people, and social dynamics under pressure–hence why i suspect it would be a great fit for mcrp.
the way the show would be structured is this: a certain number of contestants would be placed on a (slightly modified) survival server, set up to be difficult to survive on. they are placed into two "tribes", the teams for the first half of the show. every episode, they would spend time with their tribes bonding, surviving, searching for secrets, and base building. then, they would compete in challenges. the tribe that loses the immunity challenge must go to tribal council, where they vote on which member to send home. this continues with the tribes eventually merging together into one tribe and immunity becoming individual before there are only two contestants left. at that time, they go in front a jury of their former fellow contestants, who will determine who the sole survivor is.
while challenge performance is one key to winning (as it prevents you from being a target in the first place), the other, bigger key, as you can likely see, is forming alliances and voting blocks strategically to get your opponents voted out and yourself kept in. this makes a great vehicle for social emergent storytelling, where narratives emerge about who is honest, who is a liar, who is good at the social game, who is bad at it, and what people will do in order to become sole survivor.
in other words: it's kind of like what current-day mcrp is ALREADY about. except its a gameshow also, and the very construction of the thing is designed to cause tensions by its very nature.
it's great! and you wouldn't be required to know anything about survivor–our host would explain to the audience all of the mechanics as they came up, as would production staff to the players.
You keep calling it "a show"–what do you mean by that?
the result of this project would be an edited youtube series, like survivor, of likely around twelve episodes. each episode would show footage from the game, as well as a lot of "confessionals" shots of the players explaining their opinions, before ending in tribal council! unlike most mcrp series, this would not be a multiple pov affair. it would be one tightly edited project. (this editing, for the record, is the largest overhead; we expect the amount of footage to go through to end up being in the hundreds of hours combined between all the players.)
it's possible that after the show's finale releases we'll release the players to make their own highlights from any footage they take. but the product we're hoping to make is just a single TV show's worth!
what exactly does applying to be a contestant require?
if we get enough interest, once we have enough of the required plugins and builds created and have a better sense of gameplay, we will put out a casting call form. while this will ask a number of questions to help us get to know you as a potential player, you're going to be REQUIRED to have the following things: a tumblr blog that you can link us to, the ability to record an audition tape in minecraft to send to us (so that we can get an idea of what audio we'd be working with, mostly), enough free time for us to be able to schedule recording sessions into, and a willingness to agree to some rules about keeping things secret until the finale airs and about rp etiquette. that's it! there are no other requirements–you don't have to know survivor, you don't have to already do mcyt or stream, you don't have to have friends, none of it, and while we'll ask you for those details, we're going to be looking for a large blend of people from across mcyt! anyone (who can send us mostly clean audio) can be considered!
EDIT: we would ALSO REQUIRE YOU BE AT LEAST 18. sorry i forgot this before! this is for a number of reasons i don't want to get into, but will be prominent on the actual applications.
what exactly would being a production staff member entail?
we're mainly looking for two things in production staff: a willingness to run replaymod for us and act as cameramen by following contestants around getting footage on the actual recording days, and a willingness to work with us on what's likely to be a fairly intense editing and "scripting" period during and after recording, during which we're going to have to scrub through massive amounts of footage and form it into a coherent narrative. we may, depending on how bad we realize we've bitten off more than we can chew, also end up looking for build team members for the production crew. if these things sound fun to you (they sound fun to me god help me), then go ahead and select this option! just know it's mutually exclusive with playing; no one in the production staff will be considered for the contestants. this includes my friends and myself who've already agreed to help me.
these applications would come out before the casting call, since even before casting call we're going to need to do playtests and dry runs and have things mostly ready. so keep an eye out!
will this be run on your blog?
nope we're going to make a new blog (and youtube channel) (and branding!) for this eventually, just want to interest check before we go through all the branding steps. (also, i've even gotten us a specific gmail for this that we will likely end up using for certain communications.)
for now that's all the FAQ i think that is required. let me know if you have more! and i hope you all are interested in this baby of a project that's taken over my mind for the past few weeks!
#mcyt#mcytblr#dsmp#hermitcraft#qsmp#lifesteal#trafficblr#to list some fandoms i think may be interested!#also please reblog this i want a reasonable sample of who is and isn't interested#and FEEL FREE TO ASK QUESTIONS EVEN WITHOUT VOTING#i have put way too much thought into this and would LOVE to answer#listen i am SO HYPED FOR THIS i just want to make sure we'd have enough people to pull it off before investing more energy lol
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Any headcanons or AU style things with Weiss
Hey friend~
Weiss is one of my fav lil goobers, but I realize I haven’t really sat down and thought much about her character. My brain just turns off when I see her it's just 'mm yes is Weiss :)'
Anyways, I gave it a go. If there’s anything specific you’d like to know (shipping/character relationships/her take on canon events) just ask me further. Enjoy my ramblings:
The eyelid of Weiss’ scarred eye is damaged, permanently drooping
She’s the queen of puppy dog eyes
I like to think she takes after Willow a lot. There’s a lot of shared personality, characteristics, even looks between them. She’s a mama’s girl and Willow’s ‘favorite’
Weiss is forever cold, always liking to bundle up in some aspect. If anyone warm is around, you can usually find her snuggled up with them
I'll ship Weiss with a lot of the main gorlies. Big fan of polypiles
I feel like she wears red because of her grandfather, keeping his colors around as a reminder, but eventually she also associates the color with Ruby. Seeing her as a leader and partner to look up to and rely on
She is so easy to read. There is no hiding how she’s feeling
I like to think she hates wearing heels, but damn if she wont continue just to keep the slight height she can afford
She likes to pet Blake and Vel's ears sometimes. Soft, warm, it's chill. (This comes from the anthology manga)
The sexual tensions between her and Coco sets off geiger counters
She will steal other’s clothes, having at least one item from just about everyone she’s on good terms with
There’s a response Miles gave about how her kebob incident with Cinder played a large role in shaping her current personality, and I totally agree with it. Escaping death def changes a person
Expanding on that, I also think Weiss is now rather anxious/paranoid about Cinder the way she keeps being targeted by her. Sudden fire startles her and Weiss refuses to split off on her own if on missions or anything open like that
Weiss eventually surpasses Yang in humor but it's cause of her dry wit, never the puns
Post Atlas, her and Winter are on more equal terms. Her sister's been knocked down the pedestal some in her eyes, but she still holds respect for her all the same. She can just act more casual with her like she does with team rwby
Weiss knows a lot of 'cultured' skills because of her privileged upbringing such as chess, orchestral instruments, dancing, sports like tennis and badminton, even cooking, but the one thing she could never manage was baking and it haunts her cause all she wants to do is make a yummy batch of cookies for Ruby 🍪
Weiss prefers coffee as her hot drink of choice, but she makes attempts to drink Blake's favorite teas so they can bond over that
#fooze#kinglewis125#rwby#rwby fanart#weiss schnee#rwby weiss#yeah there's other characters but I dont feel like tagging them#id love to explore more. again I havent made it past v7 so im sure I could do more or even change some views if I catch with the story#so yeah feel free to ask anything specific and I'll try and answer that too if youre curious#and this is for anyone else too like if any of y'all be wondering my take on something just ask#the bird btw is a doodle of dummybirdnero. it’s not a hc don’t read into it lol
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hi hi hi hi I found out about Hal Jordan TODAY and am going so autistic over him it’s insane can you please give me a rundown on what his deal is I think you’re the Tumblr Green Lantern guy
omg hi, insane compliment btw, tysm! i'm glad to give you a rundown!! also definitely check out @katmaatui for more hal info, red is SUPER knowledgable abt him. @rillette, @catboyollie, @halcarols, @starsapphire and @yellowcorps (along with so many others that i cant think to tag off the top of my head) have some great hal takes too! (edited the post just to tag more ppl)
apologies if this is a bit rushed/messy, i'm doing this while i smelt stone in minecraft LMAO
that being said... i think this will be a long one, so more below the cut :3
(cw for light mentions of pedophilia, abuse, canon typical violence)
okay, so hal jordan is the first human green lantern of the GREEN LANTERN CORPS. it's important to note that there was technically a human green lantern before him (alan scott, originally from earth two/the justice society, but integrated into main DC canon after crisis), but his power comes from a different source- which is a whole different ballpark that would take ages to explain, lol, so i'll move on from that.
hal was originally introduced in a showcase issue in 1959, but ended up getting a solo run in the mid 60s because of his showcase issues doing well. he's been a test pilot, middle brother, compassionate, rule follower (although being surprisingly liberal for the time) with an interesting relationship with star sapphire carol ferris since those first appearances. for the first 20 odd years of his appearances we had no information on his parents, but we got a lot from other family members, such as uncle titus, cousin hal jr (aka airwave), younger brother jim jordan and older brother jack jordan. through the 60s and 70s those members of his family were developed along with him; with the audience learning that jim's wife sue thought jim was green lantern, rather than hal, and hal himself training his cousin, hal jr.
the most known version of how hal got the ring in the first place is probably based off of geoff john's rewrite in the mid 00s, reiterating the original story of abin sur crashing onto earth and dying, leaving hal with his ring to be trained by sinestro and the rest of the glc, while also changing miniscule details that had been developed in emerald dawn 1 & 2 (which was released in the 90s, more on that later). the main premise of abin sur's crash has stayed the same, but the story around hal's current life, job, family and stability keep changing. for instance, the original comic with abin sur in showcase only showed hal getting the ring, the guardians choosing him. the first rewrite i can think of was emerald dawn volume 1, published in 1989 and continued in emerald dawn v2 (1991). here we get the classic hal watches his father die in a plane crash with carol ferris beside him as a pre adolescent, and some of the biggest implications of the mistreatment from his father. we also get introduced to hal, despite his stick to the rules, straight edge attitude, making some serious mistakes and putting people in danger and even death- with the implication of alcohol abuse. the audience HAS known hal used to be in the air force since sometime in the late 60s or early 70s (sorry, i don't remember the exact issue!), but emerald dawn shows us that hal's moved on from the air force and into test piloting, and that his mother keeps having to bail him out for making mistakes. emerald dawn vol 1 shows the abin sur moment, followed by fights that cost hal's friends life, and is followed up by sinestro training hal in emerald dawn vol 2, where we get to see the iconic scenes of hal finding out about sinestro and his... dictatorship.
along with that; how the guardians and rings are treated and hal and the glc's perception of them is vastly changed over time. in the early days of gl in the 60s, the guardians were really never to be seen. hal was repeatedly summoned to them and then had his memory almost fully wiped- only leaving a vague notion of his orders. the guardian's called hal to them at seemingly the worst times, ending up with him almost getting injured, getting in trouble at work, and even ending up jobless and homeless. the chaos of being a green lantern has been around the WHOLE time, but originally, the green lanterns didnt really... fight it. the guardian's were their masters (and even father figures, to hal) and not to be questioned. the rings in the 60s were also much more powerful, despite the yellow weakness (the yellow weakness is the notion that from about the 60s to the mid 90s the green lantern rings were completely unable to be used against anything yellow). time travel, phasing, teleporting, etc were all very viable and common things- as well as forceful shapeshifting, invisibility, mind control, mind reading, etc etc. these days, writers have dampened these powers down to mostly shooting light and constructs.
okay, it's parallax time. the emerald twilight arc from the mid 90s wasn't an arc that was as thoroughly planned out over a long period of time as it probably should have been. a lot of fans at the time (and even now) hated what happened there, and claimed it ruined hal's character entirely. i can understand why! but, at it's core, the parallax arc is a story about a broken man pushed to the limit, fully grieving his home and family (originally, he lost his brother jim in the destruction of coast city, along with a lot of other family members) and being goddamn fed up with how his "masters" treated him and the rest of the corps. the so called "perfect lantern" (no, he wasn't that much of a rebel, despite what johns wants you to think) snapped and essentially tried to gain as much power as he could to bring back coast city. when the guardians stripped him of his powers so he couldn't, hal became enraged and took down every lantern in his path, just to get to the guardians and that power. long story short, he kills the guardians and absorbs all the energy from the central power battery on oa, becoming parallax- essentially a god. this marks the start of zero hour, an event made by dc to restructure and reset; giving the comics a new generation of heroes. hal destroys the world and remakes it, but is ultimately taken down by kyle rayner, the new green lantern, with the help of the jla, jsa and associates. there are a few more run ins with parallax after this, before kyle convinces parallax/hal that he can make up for all of this by reigniting the sun after it went out- aka killing himself. hal does it, is stuck in limbo for awhile and then becomes the spectre to continue to make up for the horrible things he did as parallax. the spectre is the spirit of god's wrath and vengeance, a weapon used to drag sinners to their very own, self made hells, and scare the shit out of people. the spectre, from it's very first appearance, is a ghost like spirit that takes on a host, and is primarily described using christian terms and is used in a very... christian ideology. HOWEVER, the spectre 2001 confirms that hal is jewish (jewish mom, catholic dad) and that belief system, plus his personality as a whole, literally makes him change the spirit of vengeance into the spirit of redemption, for at least as long as they are bonded. the whole parallax to spectre arc is about grief, pain, cycles of abuse and terror, redemption and guilt. it is NOT about a fear bug that possess hal. (im so serious though, the spectre 2001 is one of the best comics ive ever read. amazing. changed my world view) but... geoff johns changed all of it, decanonized the spectre, and ruined the legacy of parallax and hal's growth as a person by releasing green lantern: rebirth in 2004/2005. this retcons hal's breakdown and journey through grief into him BEING POSSESSED BY AN ENTITY CONTROLLED BY SINESTRO THAT FULLY CHANGES PREVIOUS GREEN LANTERN CANON AND IMPLICATIONS. also, fucks up the importance of kyle becoming ion, but whatever. geoff johns writes hal (and even more so, carol) so very wrong, and change their stories so vastly in ways that go against the stories very meanings.
SIGH.
now... time to get started on some rougher stuff. hal jordan misconceptions. i'm saving that arc for last.
- hal jordan wasn't much of a rule breaker or rebel until the 70s/80s, where he BEGAN (very slowly, mind you) to be radicalized by oliver queen during denny o'neil's green lantern/green arrow. hal was painted as more of a conservative during this period (which, admittedly, kind of goes against previous canon... he's always been relatively central to liberal, not to any extremes like ollie though, lol) but gets more and more understanding of how power structures work and how lower classes are mistreated during this time- which ends up opening his eyes a bit to how shitty the guardians are. (this is helped by the guardians literally just. leaving. the green lanterns and kind of disbanding them so they can go fuck the zamarons, lmao). geoff johns tried to change this narrative into making hal a very... maverick-from-top-gun type of character, who punched his way out of the military (when, in reality, the original story during emerald knights in the late 90s was that hal had been framed for stealing a jet and was dishonorably discharged, which he took the punishment for because he knew someone had to) and hits on women constantly and gets ladies and allat (which, funnily enough hal was awful at getting carol to like him for a long time, since carol fell for green lantern rather than hal. not to mention the awkwardness of carol's proposals or hal's many, many failed relationships). hal has always been insecure and lowkey boyfailure, he is NOT a top gun maverick tom cruise sorta guy! fuck you jeremy adams!
- hes not that much of an idiot asshole. hal can be a real dick, he's had that going for him since the beginning, but he isn't what you read in batfam fics. he's not stupid and shouldn't be the laughingstock of the justice league. i assume this idea started from the obsession with batfam and the fact that the jla has quite the history of ignoring hal and his issues (as well as. all of their issues. theyre not so great at work life balance), but it's gone too far. hal isn't making fun of the robins and pissing bruce off bc of that. hal isnt fooling around on the job 24/7 (he takes being a gl and pilot VERY seriously, although he does enjoy some danger and high stakes) or slacking off to get girls. again. not top gun maverick.
- hal has not been a creep since the beginnings. hal was not weird with carol in the 60s. things were weird between them, yeah, but that's based off circumstance and the craziness of star sapphire and green lantern. he was NOT being horribly sleazy! i hate that i even need to say this, but i see this take too much not to
- going off of what was said above, lets discuss the arisia arc. if you want to be a real hal fan, this is unfortunately something you need to know about. in action comics, after crisis and the guardians left to go fuck the zamarons, most of the green lanterns fell apart and seperated. a small group went to earth- led by hal and consisting of hal, john stewart, katma tui, kilowog, salaakk, ch'p and arisia rrab. (also sometimes guy gardner, but that's complicated) previously to this arc, hal treated 14 year old arisia like a beloved little sister, welcoming her and leading her into the corps just like everyone else. things started to change once the timeline gets closer and closer to crisis, where arisia starts showing that she has a crush on hal (who is roughly 30s at this point). any advances made by arisia are shut down by hal at the beginning, because she's a child. now, it's unfortunately a common thing to just call hal a "pedophile" because of what happens in this arc- but it really isn't that simple. still weird and icky, but definitely not to the degree of which some fans like to act like it is- esp to attack hal fans for, which is... an odd choice regarding how many fucked up things every character (esp male characters) did back in the day. arisia ends up using her power ring to artifically age herself up, making her body AND MIND into that of a young adult (the comic makes this very clear). once this happens... hal stops rejecting her. they get together, they kiss. the only person in the group of green latnerns who actually has an issue with it is john (salaakk is meh about it, but he just doesn't like human-esque romance no matter what), and katma even directly encourages their relationship. kilowog ends up crushing on arisia as well, and guy gardner hits on her repeatedly throughout the whole period. eventually, hal and arisia break up, but this legacy (thank so much englehart, for wrtiting this. /sarc) is a big controversy among the comics crowd. "is hal jordan a predator?" personally, and i know a lot of friends/mutuals/other gl fans choose to erase the arisia arc entirely (versus how canon ended up retconning it to be 14 earth years is equal to that of an adult and she didn't really get super ages up, or whatever) and go with the familial relationship between hal and her. that's my preferred version! i know red (@katmaatui) has explored that version as well as an alternate version where the arisia arc did happen, and how it affects arisia in particular, which is really depressing but super interesting. anyway, it's complicated and weird and nuanced, but that whole occurence doesn't mean hal's a bad character or person (cause yk. retcons) and it's certainly not bad to like his character. (definitely ignore any guy gardner fans who try to bitch about this arc. cough cough. guy was ALSO into her and hit on her repeatedly. smfh) most people who bring this up to demonize fans didn't even read the arc, and don't know the nuance or the other weird shit that happens in it. (hal is not a horse, sigh)
OVERALL NOTES!
hal jordan is a super complicated character with an extensive history spanning from the 60s to his worse written appearances in modern age. it's okay to like any version of the character, but it is important to note the changes that have been made, the storylines butchered and lost, and more. he has quite the legacy, and he's particularly interesting as from a moral standpoint. hal's a real sweetie though, when it gets down to it! he's neurodivergent coded (imo at least.. his dad very much gets onto him for being disrtracted, hes kinda shit at social interaction (and then amazing at it the other half of the time) etc etc. "spacecase") and his dad is an abusive asshole, who he desperately doesnt want to be like but thinks he NEEDS to be like!
#i really dont know how to fit this last stuff in so its going in the tags#hal has quite the homoerotic tension relationship with his nemesis (but also close friend) sinestro#they repeatedly come back to each other and long to be alongside eachother#despite all the shit they hate about one another and their respective organizations#check out more of red's stuff for sinhal for sure lmao#for other hal relationships...#hal has a complicated relationship with his brothers and mother (at least when they were all alive)#hes very close friends with oliver queen (and dinah lance by proxy) and quite a lot of fans (me included) think theres some tension there.#homos!#he has a niece (helen jordan!) who is featured in the spectre and who he loves very much#hal and john are proclaimed best friends and care deeply for each other#hal and guy fight a lot but theyre in a similar boat#kyle looks up to hal quite a lot and hal is.... complicated about kylre#a lot of people ship hal and barry and i get why. its cute#not my fav though i think its overdone#hal jordan and carol ferris are so fucking important to eachother its SO important.#they need eachother in a wya thats confusing and sometimes toxic#idk what else to say feel free to ask more questions#sorry for the rant#and sorry that i mostly focused on 60s to early ish 00s thats my expertise#mordie answers#mordie speaks#hal jordan#green lantern#ch: who has time for heavenly things#uhhh#hal explanation#ok bye#hal jordan analysis#gl
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