Tumgik
#like travel somewhere in state and out of the country
Text
life has been feeling dry af lately
Tumblr media
1 note · View note
nashvillethotchicken · 3 months
Text
A subtle way you can tell lestat is very selfish and ignorant about race, especially in ep 6 is that he said that they'd go to Argentina, a country which at the time was explicitly looking for white Europeans (including n*zis) to move there after spending decades pushing their black and Indigenous populations to the fringes of society to whiten up the country
#amc iwtv#iwtv#interview with the vampire#lestat de lioncourt#like i dont think hes doing it on purpose#i think he saw somewhere that takes Europeans and he sees claudia and louis as extensions of himself so if he'll be welcomed they'll be too#like i genuinely dont think he thought of moving somewhere that wasnt as segregated for the sake of louis or claudia#and to give the barest of credit. there wereny many places they could both go#lestat isnt allowed in europe cus of armand and them and louis and claudia cant move unencumbered through most of the us bc of segregation#like the only place they could go in the us at the time as an interracial family is ohio (only state with intteraccial marriage in 1940)#and they couldnt even be out there#so i understand leaving the country but picking a place that is already pushing its black population further into the fringes#is just another way to control the movements of louis and claudia. even if lestat doesnt realise or have that intent#like if they decide to leave him when theyre in Argentina theyre literally boned. especially in the 40s when all the n*zis are coming#and tou can see this in other parts of their relationship. like lestat is ok taking louis' to operas where louis has to be a valet to get in#he says that their money had protected them from legal backlash for being gay but not really for louis being black#lestat not getting the multiple microagressions from the lawyer#hell lestat even says “if he had offended you i would have killed him”. implying he doesn't believe that louis had a right to be offended#like lestat is ignorant to race especially in the american context and especially especially in other countries#hes white and french. they invented racism like there is a non 0 chance he saw saarah baartman displayed in a traveling circus in france#like i dont think he is outwardly racist like the alderman or tom but hes ignorant as hell.#he probably didnt see his first black person until he was 25
45 notes · View notes
loving-barnes · 27 days
Text
LOGAN HOWLETT - A LITTLE GAME
A/N: New Wolverine one-shot. I tried and... I don't know. I like the beginning and then it's like.. okay? Let me know your thoughts.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
Warning: I have decided not to give proper warnings. I don't want to spoil the story. BUT please, only 18+. Minors DNI.
Words: 4000+
Important note: HughJackman!Wolverine (so he's tall!)
FULL MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
LOGAN HOWLETT - A LITTLE GAME
Everyone was looking for her - Magneto’s brotherhood, the X-men, the Avengers and god knows who else. They all wanted her - for good, for bad, to use or to kill. She became the biggest threat in a matter of seconds. That’s why Logan had to be the one to find her first.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her for months. She was sneaky, using her power to hide from the whole world, even from him. Leaving the continent would be too risky. She had to stay in the States, right? Maybe Canada? 
It all happened so fast. There was a moment where he questioned everything. In the end, he wanted to fight for her… with her. Was there still a chance he’d find her? She could be anywhere. Surprisingly, Logan never lost hope. 
One day, Logan got a tip from some random skanky woman who approached him in a New York dive bar. He was drinking his daily dose of whisky, head lost in thoughts. He had her picture, looking at it. Such an innocent yet powerful being. His heart ached.
“I know her,” the woman approached him out of nowhere. She leaned against the bar, smiling. Her eyes were locked on the photo. “Pretty girl.” 
Logan’s eyes found hers, frowning. “Where is she?” he asked angrily. 
She chuckled. “Now hang on, sugar,” she sat next to him, exposing her long smooth legs. The miniskirt didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Logan’s eyes travelled from her legs, all the way up to her face, but he was not interested. “How about a drink first?”
He reached for his drink. It went down his throat in a second. He smashed the glass against the bar, shattering it. His eyes darkened. The adamantium claws got out, pressing them against the woman’s throat. Logan was not in a mood to play around.
People gasped. They were afraid. A mutant in a bar threatening other humans was unacceptable. Guns were loaded and pointed at him. Logan didn’t care. 
The woman yelped. Fear crept into her eyes. “Tell me where she is or you won’t be able to see the sun rise again,” his voice was low, intimidating. 
“S-strip club, down the street,” she managed to get out of her throat. Her body was visibly shaking. “I saw her there. She was there an hour ago. P-please, don’t hurt me.” 
He didn’t say anything. The claws retracted back under his skin. Logan was out of the bar in seconds, heading down the street to the club where the woman said she spotted the one he was looking for. His heart beat fast. Was he finally about to get her? It’s been months. 
Everyone wanted the most powerful mutant on the planet. Some wanted to use her, others wanted to destroy her. Logan wanted to get to her sooner than the rest of the world. All he desired was to protect her.
She’s more powerful than Jean ever was, said Charles to him not long ago. They didn’t have a name for her. No one knew where her power reached, or what her limits were. Jean’s dark side was destroyed with the help of the Scarlett Witch. With Y/N, they didn’t know what to expect. Was she worse than the Dark Phoenix? 
Expect the unexpected, said Charles to Logan once he decided to bring her back.
Logan’s eyes locked on the big pink neon sign of the strip club. He sighed. Of course, she would hide somewhere in plain sight. Who would try to find a woman like her in a place like this? She was the kindest teacher. Innocence was her second name. Everyone would expect her to flee the country, or hide in the mountains. No, she hid under their noses in the city that never sleeps.
Expect the unexpected. Well, shit, he didn’t expect this at all. 
He entered the club. The heavy smell of cigarettes and sweet perfumes hit his nose. The lights were flashing as the girls kept dancing around the poles. They slowly undressed for the crowd of hungry eyes. Men were holding bills in their hands, roaring and whistling, ready to throw them at the women.
Drinks were poured into glasses and onto women’s exposed breasts. Some wished to lick them, to feel their flesh and alcohol on their tongues. 
Some ladies brushed their hands against Logan’s shoulders and arms to get his attention. The fake smiles and lustful gazes did nothing for him. They talked to him and tried to seduce him. He remained focused on his goal. His eyes travelled around the place, trying to glimpse Y/N. 
Flashes of images hit his mind. He remembered it all - the laughs, the drinks, the simple days back in the X-mansion. The day when their lips first touched, he knew he was a goner. 
Logan huffed, anger rising inside of him. Would she sell her body to all those creeps in here? Would she dance for them to make money? The thought of other men touching her body made his blood boil. Logan was sure that if he saw a man touching a piece of Y/N’s skin, he would slice his arm with his claws. 
There was no sign of her. Was the woman from the bar lying to him? Was this a trap? Logan’s fists clenched. He had to be careful. Even a place like this could be dangerous. God knows who’d own this place. 
Somewhere in the haze, he noticed the familiar eyes watching him. Their colours sparkled in the flashing lights. She was like a goddess, walking around the mist and colours with her long satin robe flying around her. Logan could smell her from afar. The scent was overpowering his senses. 
One blink, she was gone. Was he hallucinating? He sighed. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. Or was it her?
Logan.
Her voice rang in his ears. He could smell her more as if she was closer than before. Logan’s body twisted and turned, trying to find her in the crowd. He was sure she was here, watching him like a hawk. 
There was a lingering touch on his shoulder. It moved from one side of the shoulder to the other, fingers lightly pressed against his flannel shirt. He could feel the electric touch that belonged to her. 
 “Y/N,” he breathed her name. No one would be able to hear him over the loud music. “Stop the games.” 
He heard a group of women laugh. His eyes moved to them. They gave lap dances to some businessmen. Their hands were all over their bodies.  
Again, his nose caught Y/N’s scent. It was so close, closer than before. When his eyes looked forward, he could see her in her full glory. He cursed. Was he supposed to be aroused or upset?
First, he noticed the exposed legs and high heels on her feet. Then there was the dazzling dress that hugged her curves perfectly. Her breasts were about to pop out of that damn outfit. And then there was the damn satin robe. Fuck! Her dress was provocative. Compared to the other strippers, Y/N was wearing more than the rest of the ladies in the club. 
What happened to the woman who radiated pure innocence? This was someone else, someone new. Did she have a dark side that decided to wake up from its slumber?
Still, his jeans felt tighter than before. 
His legs moved towards her. Logan got through the dancing women who tried to reach for him some more. They wanted a piece of him. When was the last time a man like him walked into a place like this? His eyes and mind were only on one woman. 
“Don’t run,” he said to himself. He knew Y/N would hear his words. 
Logan knew the game wasn’t over when he heard laughter inside his head. He was close until he wasn’t. She was gone once again. “Dammit, Y/N. Stop this.” 
Again, he felt a pair of hands on his shoulder. This time they pushed him down. His ass ended on something soft, comfortable. It was a chair. Where did that come from? 
“Want a dance?” He felt a hot breath close to his ear. The touch remained. Logan knew this wasn’t a trick. She was behind him. “I can help you relax.”
Logan had enough of her shit. He swiftly grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him. He was impatient. Her face appeared in front of his. He lost his breath for a second. The red lips, the glitter in her hair… he wanted to devour her. There was a smirk plastered on her face. 
“Strip club?” Logan growled. “What the fuck?” 
Y/N lazily climbed on his lap, pressing her core onto his forming erection. She bit her lower lip and rested her hands on his broad shoulders. “What’s the matter, Lo’? Don’t you want to have some fun?” she titled her head, raising a brow. 
He gritted his teeth. “I’ve been looking for you for months,” he said, angry. “And I find you here? Of all places?” 
“It’s good, isn’t it?” she blinked a few times. “Who would have thought that little ol’ me would hide here?” 
His hands gripped her hips tightly. He inhaled her sweet perfume. He needed to get straight to the point before he’d lost his mind. “Why did ya run?”
Y/N glared at him. “What kind of a stupid question is that?” she pushed her body from his a little. She had to get a better look at him. “All of you turned against me. One mishap and I became the villain.” 
Y/N’s mutation evolved into something no one has ever seen before. It brought the attention of other groups that wanted her neck, or power. The Professor admitted she represented something beyond explanation. Inhuman was the word he used? It was new, dangerous. Fingers were pointed, threats had been made. Everyone pushed until she ran from the X-mansion and left everything behind. Now everyone was after her - the X-men, the Avengers and Magneto. Fuck, she even heard that the government wanted her. God knows how many organisations and bounty hunters were trying to get her. Rewards were made. The numbers had seven figures or more. 
Logan’s eyes widen. One of his hands sneaked behind her neck, pulling her closer to him. “I didn’t.”
“Fuck, right,” she rolled her eyes. “When you found out what I could do, you stepped away. I can remember the betrayal in your eyes. Or was it fear? Were you afraid, Logan?” her nose brushed against his. “Were you scared of me or this?” she pointed between them. And then, she pushed away from him. 
His right hand gripped Y/N’s hair and pulled on it, exposing her neck. Logan pressed his nose to it, inhaling her sweet scent. “Don’t ever say shit like that,” he threatened. “I was never scared of what was going between us.” 
Y/N moved her head and pressed her lips to his ear. “Or did you realise you still wanted Jean?” She hit a sensitive spot. There was a history between Jean and Logan. Y/N knew damn well nothing ever happened between them. The redhead’s eyes were only on Scott. And yet, she had to dig into it. 
Logan’s hand moved to her neck, squeezing it. He made her look at him. Even in the dim lights, his eyes darkened. He hated those words that had escaped those pretty red lips. “Stop it,” he growled. “You mean more to me than she ever did.”
Y/N rolled her hips slowly, grinding on his noticeable bulge. Logan moaned with every movement she did. The grip on her throat never loosened. With the flashing lights and changing colours, the tension between them thickened. 
“You are lying,” she challenged him. 
He squinted at her. “You know damn well I don’t lie, princess.” 
Y/N grabbed him by his stupid flannel shirt from all the irritation. “You never reached for me after everything that went to shit!” 
“You destroyed a skyscraper in New York,” he told her with a calmer tone. “A fucking skyscraper. Your mutation evolved with a snap of the fingers. No wonder the shock, the fear or everyone’s need to get their hands on you.” Logan pulled her face closer to his. Their lips almost touching. “Before I could collect my thoughts, process what the fuck had happened and get to you, you ran away.” 
She squinted at him. “You pulled away from me,” she blamed him. 
“I didn’t,” he tightened the grip on her throat. She moaned. “I’ve been looking for you for months - months! You think I’d do that if I pulled away? Do you think I’d pick Jean over you? Don’t think so little of me, princess.” 
A rain of flashing lights started. Logan had the perfect chance to see her face. The red lips, the sparkle in her eyes. He saw the whole universe in them. 
“Why here?” he had to ask. “Of all places, why did you hide here?” 
She showed him her bright smile. “You’d never expect a good girl hiding in a place like this. It kinda worked.” 
And then she snapped her fingers. The people around them stopped moving. They became living statues. The music kept going, the lights still flickered and changed. Logan’s eyes widened. His head moved from side to side. Powerful, that’s what Y/N was. And beautiful. Sexy. Dangerous. Good. Her heart was still good. He had to believe.
Waves of anger flashed through his body. It was still a play. If she wanted to play, he would obey - under his rules. “Tell me, baby girl,” the hand from her throat slid down to her breasts. The other hand joined. They squeezed them through the fabric. It made her hips roll some more. “Did you let any of the guys here touch you?” he tilted his head. 
Her head tilted back as she enjoyed his big hands on her chest. His nose found her pulse on her neck, pressing his lips to it. He sucked a mark on her neck. “Baby girl, you are mine and only mine,” he growled into her ear. 
“What makes you think I’m yours?” she tried to fight back.
“If I was anyone else, you’d use all your powers to get rid of me. Maybe even kill me. You didn’t,” he stated.
“I’d never kill anyone for fun, Logan,” she said. “You know that damn well.” She leaned closer to his face. “I’d never hurt you.” 
Their lips met in a kiss that brought colours to their minds. Each colour represented a different plea. I miss you. I need you. I want you. I love you. It was messy, it was sweet. Their tongues danced and explored. It was needy, it was deep. It’s been months since they last shared a passionate kiss. 
It brought tears to Y/N’s eyes. As much as she wanted to be strong, in front of him, she couldn’t. He was like a home she never had. Her heart ached that she had to leave him. But what was there to do when they all turned against her? She believed Logan did too. 
Logan felt he was falling. Everything around him felt light. And then his back fell onto something soft. The chair under his ass was gone. He grunted, breaking the kiss. There was a bed under his body. “What the shit?” he was confused. “Where are we?” 
“Champagne room,” said Y/N who sat on top of him, still fully clothed. The only thing missing was the satin robe. “For some privacy.” 
He raised a brow. “And here I thought you’d wanted to give those living statues a show.” That’s when he heard laughter from behind the walls. The people were moving again. 
Y/N’s thumb swiped over Logan’s lips. They were stained from the red lipstick she wore. Before she retracted it, he pressed a kiss to it. “Since when did you learn to teleport?” he asked. “Last time I checked, you didn’t know how to do half of what you did today.” 
“Just a mind trick, no teleportation,” she said. 
Logan wrapped his arms around her waist and abruptly jumped on his feet. He held her tightly until he smashed her back against the nearest wall. She lost her breath for a moment. “I’m not fucking you on that disgusting bed. God knows how many people fucked on it before us.” 
“Shame,” she shrugged. “I thought you liked it dirty.” Y/N’s legs clenched around his waist. 
Logan’s lips were back on hers in a hungry kiss. When one of his hands reached down to her covered heath, she moaned into his mouth. “There’s the pretty sound,” he chuckled. His lips moved to her neck where he kissed and nibbled on her skin until he left another mark there. That’s when his fingers found the strap of her thong, ripping it off her in one harsh pull. 
He looked into her eyes, grinning like a devil. “I can feel how wet you are for me, pretty girl.” His middle finger had buried deep inside of her. “Did other men make you this wet?” 
Y/N whined. “I’d never let any other man touch me, Logan,” she confessed. 
He tilted his head. This time, two fingers slipped inside of her, fucking her with them. “Then why hide in a strip club?” He curled his finger, hitting a sweet spot. 
“Ah! I knew no one would ever come looking for me here,” she gasped every time his fingers brushed against the place that made her toes curl. “Fuck, fuck!” 
“Is that so?” he kept questioning her.
She tried to swallow the moans. “I’ve protected the girls from the perves,” she cried. 
“God, you are dripping.” His fingers left her core and went straight to his mouth, tasting her. “Pretty princess, you taste divine,” he smirked. Immediately, his lips pressed against her in a messy kiss. 
His body pressed hers even more onto the wall as one of his free hands went to his jeans to get out his painfully hard dick. He pressed the tip against her entrance, pushing it slowly in. 
“Ah, shit,” she cursed. Her mouth was wide open as she felt every inch of him. 
Once he bottomed out, his lips kissed her gently. “Taking my cock like the good girl you are,” he praised. 
“Logan,” she moaned his name. “Please, fuck me.” 
He pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip in. “Since you asked so nicely,” and he thrust back into her, making her squeal. She clenched around his cock with every move he made. “Doing so good, princess,” he praised her. “Taking me so well.”
It was fast, intense. Before she knew it, Y/N felt her orgasm approaching. One of his hands was already between their bodies, circling her clit. “Fuck, so close,” she mumbled incoherently. “Logan… Logan, please…” 
“Hold it, Y/N,” he ordered. “I’m almost there too.” 
“I… c-can’t,” she whined. Tears appeared in her eyes. The pleasure was surprisingly intense. Many feelings wanted to burst out into the open. Their lips pressed together in a sloppy kiss. He kept pounding into her as they tried to swallow each other’s moans.
What if this was for the last time? What if this would be their goodbye?
Her insides clenched around his cock as she reached her peak. Her breath quickened. She became a moaning mess while he kept fucking her through her orgasm. 
“I’m gonna fill you up, pretty girl,” he announced, staring into her eyes. His breath got lost as the release came, painting the insides of her walls white. The thrusts slowed down until he remained buried inside of her while his cum slowly dripped down his dick. 
Logan’s eyes found hers in a post-orgasmic haze. “So pretty,” he grinned. He watched as she tried to catch her breath. “My beautiful baby girl.”
Slowly, he pulled out of her. Y/N gasped once she felt empty. Carefully, Logan pulled her from the wall and put her legs on the floor. He held her tightly. “Fuck,” she cursed. 
“You good?” he asked. 
Her eyes lifted, meeting his. She smiled at him. “Yes,” she nodded. 
Logan put back his jeans while she fixed her already short, slutty dress. There was silence. With each passing second, it got heavier and more awkward. 
“I love you,” Logan confessed his feelings. One of his hands reached for her cheek, stroking it with a thumb. “I love you, princess. Goddammit, I fucking love you.” 
Her eyes kept scanning his face. These words were never said before. This was new. Y/N’s heart wanted to burst from Logan’s confession. Now that he reciprocated the feelings, she knew she’d do anything for him. 
“Come with me, please. I don’t want you to stay here, of all places,” he frowned. Even though they fucked in a strip club, he wasn’t fond of it.
She sighed. “Everyone wants to get me, Logan,” she said sadly. “Once I leave, the hunt will begin - the Brotherhood, the Avengers, the government. I can’t go back to X-mansion. That’s the first place they’ll check. I can’t endanger the kids.” 
This is what he was looking for. She was still a good woman. “So staying in a strip club is better?” he questioned. “Or are you trying to say you don’t want to be with me? Is that it?” 
Her eyes widen, mouth open. “What? No, no,” she grabbed his big hands, holding them tightly. “I love you, Logan. The only thing I want is to be with you. How can I do that when the world is against me?” 
“You are the most powerful mutant on this planet,” he said. “You can do anything you put your mind to.”
“And that makes me dangerous,” she stated. “Fuck, I put down a whole skyscraper with my powers. It was not my intention to do it, but it happened. People were hurt while I tried to save them. Fuck, Logan, the United Nations are now questioning whether mutants can be trusted again. It’s all my fault.” 
Logan shook his head, not wanting to accept she wouldn’t leave this place. He had to take her home, where she belonged. The school needed her. Everyone in the X-mansion was worried about her. “Baby,” Logan’s arm sneaked around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “We’ll figure something out. I won’t let any of those fuckers take you away from me. I’ll do everything to keep you safe and protected.” 
Her eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh, Logan,” her hand reached for his face, fingers grazing the mutton chops. She chuckled a little. “You are the only man who can pull this off,” she winked at him. “It suits you.” 
“So, what do ya say? Come home with me. That’s where you belong.” 
“Promise me this, Logan - you’ll be on my side, no matter what happens. Please, promise me this,” she pleaded. “Because, genuinely, I am terrified. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I will if someone tries to get to those I love.” 
He could see it was important to her, to have someone standing by her no matter what. “I promise, princess,” he kissed her knuckles gently. “Fuck, if I could, I would promise you the world.” 
How could this grumpy, dangerous man be such a sweetheart to her? It made her knees weak. He was in love and so was she. “Quick question, how will we get back to X-mansion?” 
Logan licked his lips. “I have a bike parked at a bar where a woman gave me a tip you work here,” her winked at her. 
She made a face. “Yeah, Wendy, she texted me about you,” Y/N winked at him. “I’m mad that you wanted to kill her.”
“Fuck her,” he growled. “Did she write you she was hitting on me?” he raised a brow. 
A simple glare was the answer he needed. “So, does that mean you’ll come with me?” 
“Yes,” she nodded. 
His lips crashed with hers in a loving kiss. Logan’s arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her tightly. “That’s good, baby. Also,” he pressed his lips to her ear. “That little game you played with me when I arrived - hot.” 
Y/N smiled. “It wasn’t planned. I needed to find out your true intentions.” 
“Through the art of seduction?” 
“Something like that.” 
328 notes · View notes
luxaofhesperides · 2 months
Note
(yourlocalcorviddad)
Wait wait wait, can there be more written about the one with Duke going on college tours with Danny??? If it's not too late?!??
(part one)
Danny’s been in love with Duke for years now. It’s always been kept a closely guarded secret, buried under as many wraps as he could get it. He tried to chase after other fleeting crushes in the hopes of moving on from his feelings for Duke, sure that they were never going to go anywhere.
How could they, when they lived states apart? 
The Danny back then would have never believed that he would one day be waking up in Duke’s arms in a hotel far away from home, traveling around the country to figure out a future together. 
Or rather, planning their own futures by each other’s sides, rather than planning to be together throughout college. Danny knows they’ll be spending even more years apart, chasing after their dreams, but it’s a gift just to a a summer together again. So what if it leads them to living on opposite sides of the country? They’ve managed to survive a long distance friendship for this long, they can keep it up for another few years.
And if it comes to it, Danny can just fly to wherever Duke is. He’s only gotten faster over the years, settling into his powers and practicing them so often. 
The future is daunting, but all his nerves are chased away by Duke’s smiles. 
“Can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says as they get settled at a restaurant in Massachusetts. They’re both tired, but the giddiness of getting together, of knowing their feelings are requited, keeps them energized and happy despite the long drive across state lines. 
“One state left, yeah?”
“Yeah, and I got Harvard first on the list so we can visit Jazz.”
“You’re the best,” Danny grins, stretching his legs out under the table to lightly knock his foot against Duke’s. 
This entire trip has felt like a daydream to him. It’s one thing being able to travel around the country with Duke, but to be able to kiss him wherever they go? Even now, two weeks later, Danny can’t believe how happy he is.
It makes the uncertainty of his future less scary. It helps distract him from how much he wants to escape his parents, despite how much he loves them.
Their conversation comes to a brief pause as a waiter comes by to take their order, writing everything down before hurrying away to keep up with the rush of activity in the semi-busy restaurant. 
“Oh,” Danny says, suddenly remembering the third person in their group, “Is Peter going to be joining us?” 
Peter, Duke’s chaperones, is odd but funny. He disappears and reappears like a magician, always carries a gun on him, and treats Duke like a little brother the rare moments he’s around. He’s mostly only been with them to act as transport, driving them around from university to university. 
Duke’s face does something strange when he hears Peter’s name, but it’s gone before Danny can figure out what that’s all about.
“Nah,” he answers, “He’s off doing his own thing. You’ve seen how he likes to follow his own plans.”
“So I guess we’re stopping here for the day?”
“Yeah. I’m sure we can find somewhere nice to spend the night, and until then we can explore—” Duke takes a quick moment to check the name of the town they’re in, helpfully stated on the restaurant’s wall of five star reviews “—Baldwinville. I’m sure there’s something for us to do around here.”
“I mean, we don’t have to do anything special, you know. I’d be happy to just to spend the day with you.”
Duke smiles softly, reaching over the table to take hold of Danny’s hand. “I’d like that too. Maybe we should just take some time and explore the place together. Have a relaxing day before we head to Cambridge.”
“That’ll be nice. I feel like it’s been forever since I had a quiet day.”
“Same!” Duke laughs. “Gotham’s wild, man. Did I ever tell you the story of having a barbeque with Killer Croc?”
“No! I can’t believe you kept that from me!”
Duke launches into the story as if it’s any other day, just the two of them hanging out. Danny’s enraptured as he always is when Duke shares his Gotham Stories. He doesn’t falter even when their food is brought out, and Danny tries not to blush too hard when Duke feeds Danny some of his meal, just so he can try it. 
There’s a reason Danny sometimes daydreams about what his wedding with Duke will look like, and it’s because of this.
But that’s getting way ahead of himself! He shoves the thoughts away and focuses on the story, enjoying their lunch together. 
Duke pays when they’re done, as has become routine; Danny had fought him about the first few times before Duke told him that it was all ‘Bruce fucking Wayne’s money so they don’t need to worry about costs.’ It’s a gift from the man himself to Duke, and rejecting it would be rude. 
That hit Danny right in his midwestern politeness and he could do nothing but let it happen, already planning thank you gifts for Bruce Wayne. 
They walk out into the quiet streets of Baldwinville, hand in hand. Summer has the air humid and full of buzzing insects, and the sweet scent of flowers surrounds them as they head down the sidewalk, idly looking into the display windows of each store they pass. The buildings are old, mostly made of brick, and carry a charm that’s lacking in the urban sprawl of Amity Park.
He likes it here. 
Honestly, he’s been liking a lot of what he’s seen in Massachusetts. 
He wouldn’t mind spending a few years here as he gets his Bachelor’s degree. Of course, it all depends on if he gets into the colleges of his choice, but he’s feeling hopeful about his future. He’s worked hard to bring his GPA up after his freshman year, and his ability to juggle and extreme workload has made him a master at getting things done before deadlines and adapting to things at the last minute. 
Danny idly swings their clasped hands between them as they walk, savoring the time they have together. 
The end of their summer trip is creeping up on them and Danny can feel the distance between them start to pull tight. 
They don’t speak until they wander into a park, just a large grassy field filled with wildflowers and bees. There are a few benches placed beneath large trees and Duke leads them over to it to take advantage of the offered shade.
“I can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says, sitting down with a sigh. He tugs Danny down after him, and Danny goes willingly. He swings his legs up to drop them across Duke’s lap, leaning against him, his heart fluttering when Duke gets a hand around his thigh to keep him in place. 
“I don’t want this summer to end,” Danny admits. “I’m not ready to leave you again.”
“Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’m not going to be away from you any longer than I have to.”
Danny can’t resist the urge to lean over and kiss him, so he doesn’t. Duke meets him with a smile, keeping the kiss slow and sweet, though the way his hand skates up Danny’s thigh sends molten heat through his veins.
He pulls back before they can escalate any further (one time in public was enough; he’s still embarrassed by it and can’t look Peter in the eyes) and leans his head against Duke’s shoulder. “It would be nice if we could live together.”
“Planning out our future already? Well, in that case, I want a dog and a pet snake.”
“Why a pet snake?”
“Just feel like it.”
“A dog would be nice,” Danny says, “As long as it gets along with Cujo. Not sure about the snake, but if you can take care of it, I’d be fine with having it around.”
“Think you’d ever live in Gotham?”
Danny considers, then shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno, it sounds like a lot and I already dealt with so much just with the ghosts in Amity Park. But I don’t think I’d mind if I was with you.”
The smile that crosses Duke’s face is soft and Danny wants to see it all the time. He loves when Duke gets flustered; Danny just turns red and shy, but Duke becomes soft and adoring in a way that makes Danny feel like he’s holding sunlight, all warm and happy.
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Duke says, not yet able to bite back his smile. “Now that we’ve visited most of the places on our list, do you know which ones you’re going to apply to?”
“I’ve got a few ideas,” Danny answers. He’s been thinking about where he wants to go since summer started and he left school with Mr. Lancer reminder everyone to think about college and preparing their applications. 
It’s been a topic that’s never left his mind since for the past couple months, wondering about what the future holds for him. He honestly never thought he’s get this far, having died at 14 and struggled to adapt to how his life changed after. But he’s gotten back on track with school, has a handle on the ghosts, and the support of his parents to go anywhere he wants. 
For so long he’s been stuck in the routine of school, fight, struggle. There was never any time for anything else, much less planning for the future, and now it’s hanging heavy over his head. 
At least he gets to be with Duke as he figures things out. It’s like going back to their childhood, spending summers together, but they’re both grown up now, walking ever closer to the next stages of their lives. 
He’d love to get into MIT, but he knows the chances of being accepted are insanely low. He’ll apply anyways, just in case, but Danny’s prepared to go somewhere else. Maybe somewhere else in Massachusets. Or maybe go to New York. 
“I really liked the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. If I get in, I think I’m gonna go there,” Danny says, putting his hopes for the future into words.  
“Yeah? I think I might try to get into a college up here too,” Duke replies. “If things work out, we won’t be so far from each other.”
“And even if we do end up far away again, we can make long distance work. Right?”
There’s a worry in the back of his mind that Duke won’t like a long distance relationship, that he’ll be off in college falling in love with someone else, but there’s barely a second before Duke says, “Of course,” as though it’s obvious. Like he hadn’t considered any other option. 
Danny’s heart settles and he shoves away the rest of his general anxieties. There’s no time for that now! 
He intends to enjoy the rest of his summer trip with Duke to the fullest extent possible, which means all of that is a problem for Future Danny.
“Should we go find Peter? We’ll need to figure out where we’re staying tonight.”
“I think we can go a few more hours to a bigger town,” Duke says, “Not that this place isn’t nice, it’s just too quiet. It’s weird.”
“Alright, city boy,” Danny says, standing up from the bench. He pulls Duke up after him, leaning over to kiss the exaggerated offended expression off his face. It’s not like he’s wrong, anyways; Gotham is a big city, and Duke is an urban boy through and through, especially compared to Danny, who comes from a large town and has family living in reclusive rural Appalachia.
“Small towner,” Duke returns, nipping lightly at Danny’s bottom lip and laughing when he squeaks in surprise.
He pulls away before Danny can retaliate, and Danny lets him go, saving his revenge for after they get to their next hotel. 
Their time together is coming to an end soon, and as much as the future terrifies and excites him in equal measure, knowing Duke will be with him, one way or another, gives him the courage to keep going.
He hopes Jazz will be happy that Duke’s dating him now. He’s already hoping to ask her to be a bridesmaid for him.
145 notes · View notes
staar5384 · 8 months
Text
champange problems
neuvillette x gn!reader
hurt/no comfort, they/them pronouns, light cursing
this is slightly based off of the song champagne problems by taylor swift🫶🏼
might consider a pt. 2 if people are interested:)
Tumblr media
The Opera Epiclese was beautifully decorated from top to bottom. Assortments of Rainbow Roses adorned the hallways, Lumidose Bells hung like vines from the pillars. Stunning satin and silk tapestries dressed the walls in different shades of blue and purple.
Everyone there could tell something was going to happen, though no one knew what. 
When the people of Fontaine received their invitations to the event, it did not state the reasoning for it. It was presented as a formal ball. People were expected to dress and act appropriately, and it was not a place for children.
As the guests arrived, they could see Chief Justice Neuvillette and the Hydro Archon Furina were sitting in the front row of the courthouse. They were chatting, glancing out at the crowd periodically, as if looking for someone.
Then you walked in. 
Neuvillette arose from his seat and walked down to greet you. You smiled at your boyfriend, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” He said, grasping your hand as he brought you toward the seats he and Furina were sat in.
“I’m glad I could make it too! Everything here looks absolutely gorgeous,” You replied, following him.
Furina greeted you with a smile and a wave before moving from her seat to somewhere backstage.
“So what is this grand party for, hmm?”.
“Oh you’ll see soon enough my love,” He kissed your hand. “Just enjoy the atmosphere and the music. The Melusines should come around soon with refreshments, and the band is about to play.”
You nodded, leaning back into your chair and taking a deep breath. It was nice to have a moment to relax and enjoy yourself. You very rarely got that anymore thanks to your constant traveling, but the work was so fulfilling.
Just as Neuvillette said, the Melusines came out carrying trays of various drinks. One of them stopped in front of you two, two glasses of sparkling champagne was presented. “Just as you requested, Monsieur!” She said excitedly.
Neuvillette grabbed both the glasses, handing one over to you, “Thank you very much,” He smiled as she skipped away.
“This is different from the other drinks,” You gave him a smirk. “Was this requested specifically for me?” You had always been a fan of champagne, more than wine which tended to be the people’s preferred drink of choice.
“How could we throw a party without having everything my beautiful partner desires?” He kissed your temple with a gentle smile on his face.
You returned his smile and sipped the drink, “You also opted for champagne I see.”
“Ahh, I figured I could try to enjoy your favorite drink for a change.”
Neuvillette had never cared for champagne, he made that abundantly clear when you two began dating, but when he saw your face light up at the thought of him sharing your drink of choice, he knew it would all be worth it.
The two of you chatted for a while, catching up on how things have been on both your ends. You had recently returned from a trip to Inazuma, a country you had longed to visit for a while. You were given a commission there, and left about a month ago. You had only returned the day prior.
Neuvillette recounted many trials to you, one in particular standing out. He talked about Fatui Harbinger, Childe, a man you had met once before in Liyue when you were there for the Rite of Descension.
“Ahh I know Childe,” You commented. “We crossed paths briefly a few months ago. He almost sank the entirety of Liyue Harbor.”
“Oh?” Neuvillette raised his brow. “And how have I not heard about this?”
You giggled, “I forgot to be honest. It was so insignificant for me at the time. I left the Harbor only a few hours before to visit some of the ruins. Who would have thought that someone would try to wipe out the nation’s biggest city?”
Neuvillette chuckled, his eyes sparkling, “You tell me the most fascinating stories. I hope someday I can give you a memory as fun and beautiful as the ones you make.” 
You felt your face heat up, “You’re such a flirt, Neuvillette.”
“Only for you darling.”
The band on stage began their show, the audience around them silencing. You glanced over and realized Furina had not returned to her seat.
Neuvillette placed his glass aside and rose from his seat. He planted a kiss on the top of your head, “Excuse me a moment.”
“But the music just started. You’ll miss it.”
“No worries dear, I’ll be back,” He took his leave, walking out the back doors.
You sighed, focusing your attention on the orchestral display in front of you. Just as you expected, the music was beautiful, as was everything else in the Opera Epliclese. If only you knew what the true reasoning behind this was.
Moments passed and both Neuvillette and Furina had yet to return. You contemplated searching for them both, but stopped when Furina walked up on stage.
“Hello ladies and gentlemen! It is quite the honor to be here tonight as we have such a lovely occasion to be celebrating!”
Whispers and murmurs flooded over the crowd. What could they possibly be trying to celebrate?
“Now, I know you all must be very confused. ‘Oh great Hydro Archon Focalors.’” You rolled your eyes. “What could we possibly be celebrating!’ I can hear your gears turning, and I can promise you this is an occasion none shall forget!”
From stage left, Neuvillette walked on. He almost looked nervous as he approached the front of the stage. Furina handed him the microphone and winked before hopping off to the side.
“Umm,” He spoke softly. “This isn’t really quite my thing, speaking about emotions and feelings and such, especially in front of a crowded room like this, but I believe this is something that should be shared,” His throat bobbed, his eyes flicking across the audience. “Emotions are not, and never have been, my strong suit. They are complicated, hard to understand, and feeling them is confusing,” He said. “But there is one person who has made these emotions less confusing. When I am around them, I don’t need to try to understand what I’m feeling.”
You knew instantly he was talking about you. The two of you had discussed his inability to comprehend human emotions a few times. You had helped him understand his initial feelings towards you, helped him learn to accept his love and care for you. All of these things he has accomplished was through your help, so he says.
His eyes locked with yours, and he gestured for you to join him on the stage. Hesitantly, you stood and made your way to him. The spotlight was bright and hot, making you sweat almost instantly.
Neuvillette took your hand in his, “I can’t think of anyone I would rather spend my life with.”
Your eyes widened. He was going to propose
He got down onto one knee, pulling out a velvet blue box. He opened it, and the ring inside was stunning. A sparkling blue crystal with a silver band. “My love, will you marry me?”
All eyes were on you at that moment as the audience eagerly awaited your response. You were at a loss for words. You loved Neuvillette, you truly did, but marriage? The thought had never crossed your mind, nor were you even truly ready to get married. You had so many more adventures to go on, so much more to see and do. Marriage would only tie you down and prevent you from experiencing those things. 
Your heart throbbed, an ache filling you that you had never felt before. You stepped away from him, shaking your head with tears in your eyes, “I’m sorry, Neuvillette,” You watched his face drop. “But I can’t accept,” As you finished the sentence you rushed off of the stage and out of the room.
Neuvillette watched you leave, the ring box slipping from his hand, and landing onto the stage with a thud. The crowd began to whisper, a mix of emotion swirling throughout the room.
Furina, despite her love for the drama, immediately jumped in at seeing the distress on Neuvillette’s face, “Alright everyone, I believe that is all for this evening. Feel free to get some refreshments outside! Guards, if you could escort our guests out.”
One by one, each person began to leave until the only people inside were Furina and Neuvillette.
She glanced down at him, he hadn’t moved a single inch. His eyes were glued to the floor as he replayed the event in his head, over and over again. You said no.
“Neuvillette?” Furina approached him, gently tapping his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
He snapped out of his trance, picking his head up, “I- I do not know.”
“Well, why don’t we get you back home, yeah?”
The two left in silence, Furina remaining close beside him. People watched the two leave the Opera Epiclese and they wouldn’t stop talking. This news would spread like wildfire, Neuvillette would become the talk of Fontaine.
Outside it was downpouring. The rain was the worst it had been in a very long time. Furina knew why. 
“Even the weather is matching the mood,” Someone said from afar, noticing the Archon and Chief Justice.
“What a shame,” Another person spoke. “Losing out on a good lover such as the Monsieur.”
“They even rejected him in front of a crowd. The embarrassment he must feel… How cruel.”
“I do hope he finds someone better. He deserves someone less… fucked in the head.”
Each voice he heard was a nasty reminder, each word spoken made his heart twist and ache in an uncomfortable way. He tried to drown it out, but it was almost impossible.
“Thank you, Lady Furina,” He pulled away from her. “But I think I’ll go alone.”
“A-Are you sure?” She was hesitant to leave him alone in such a state.
“Quite sure. I’ll see you soon,” He left without another word.
Neuvillette decided to spend the rest of his evening alone, sulking in his hurt, wondering if maybe he could have done something to make you stay.
248 notes · View notes
christinesficrecs · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
These are also very classic but I feel like they're a little more well known. If you managed to miss it, Bones Straining is THE fic to read, followed closely by Reach Out. Also, forgot about this ficlet if you're up for a tiny bit of angst.
The Time Traveler’s Prerogative | 9.2K | Explicit
After the events of “117”, Derek doesn’t magically transform back into his twenty-five-year-old body. Instead, he’s stuck as a sixteen-year-old for an unknown amount of time. So the pack has to learn to deal with it.
Reach Out  | 20.2K | Explicit
In Which Stiles Falls in Love Twice…With the Same Person
Released (From Behind These Lines) | 15.9K | Explicit
Stiles was the first one. He doesn’t know how it started, what’s wrong with the house to make it like this, but he knows that he’s the first of them. The next one was Boyd, then Lydia, then Erica, and lastly, Isaac. It seems a habit, anyone who ever moves into the house leaves someone behind. But no one’s lived in the house for the last ten years.
Until Derek Hale.
See Me In Hindsight by weathervaanes, wishingonalightningbolt | 19.6K | Explicit
Stiles is 18 when he finds out exactly what’s going on in Beacon Hills. He has a few months left before he goes off to college, has a while to help Scott become the best werewolf he can be - and also to get into Derek Hale’s pants. And his heart.
Bones Straining Under the Weight  | 15.6K | Explicit
One of Stiles’ favorite things about life is Derek Hale’s food blog. He never expects to meet the man in person.
JEALOUS ORCHARD, THE SKY IS FALLING  | 5.8K
Stiles is away at UCLA for school. It may only be a few hours from Beacon Hills, but Derek still only visits every once in while. Suddenly, every time Derek even talks to Stiles, the boy just can’t help but bring up his new college BFF, Tara. When Derek visits, jealousy strikes. And make up sex ensues.
Can’t Be Saved (Not So Frail)  | 16.3K | Explicit
In which Kira is Derek’s ward, Stiles is Scott’s brother, and omega heat cycles are good for everyone.
This Kind of Luxe by horchatita394, weathervaanes, wishingonalightningbolt | 15.1K | Explicit
As they have for almost every US President since the 1910s, the Prime Minister and the royal head of their country pay a visit to the United States after inauguration. Which is why, when President Jonathan Stilinski is elected into office, Queen Talia Hale of Norland plans their trip.
For Love is Not Ours to Command | 18.5K | Explicit
Where Derek's skills at thinking on his feet mean that he and Stiles have to act. For the sake of Stiles' dad, of course, for the sake of the pack. No personal interest interference at all, whatsoever. Right.
Like Heaven Catching Lighting | 41.5K | Explicit
Prince Stiles of Cor has always known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he was never truly going to marry for love. Fighting it has only made it worse. Now, presented with a choice between two children of the Hale family of Ignis, Derek and Cora, he must make the decision to determine who will rule by his side. If only it were that simple.
Sweet Dreams 'til Sunbeams Find You | 9.2K | Mature
But that’s when it happens. Stiles is on a down stroke when Derek opens his mouth against Stiles’ neck and says, “What do you think about having kids?”
Whispers in the Dark | 6.9K | Explicit
Stiles Stilinski would call himself a starving artist except for the simple facts that he is neither starving, nor does he know anything about art (unless you consider a novelist an artist, which Stiles only does sometimes). So when his best friend insists he accompany him to a show in the city, Stiles thinks it will probably be the most boring evening of his life.
Enter Derek.
246 notes · View notes
jymwahuwu · 1 year
Note
You've done yandere Tighnari and yandere Cyno.
But what about a yandere Alhaitham?
glad you asked!! 🥺 i do have an idea for this, but haven't been writing about it before - sharing my thoughts on yandere alhaitham and kaveh now (yes, i love writing about them both)
Tumblr media
tw: yandere, non-con, kidnapping, abuse of power
"Once order is disrupted, the consequences spread like wildfire. I’d like to avoid such a scenario, so I can keep my life intact and uninterrupted."
Alhaitham took part in a revolution to replace the grand sage, resulting in Sumeru's regime returning to the God of Wisdom, and he became interim head of state (reluctantly). And all this just for his peace daily life💀 So, imagine what happens when Alhaitham finds out that you are an unstable factor in his life.
Alhaitham found that he had to spend an extra twenty minutes a day observing you, and another half hour thinking about you. (He already has all the information on you…you are very easy to understand, but also the most difficult to understand.) He doesn't like this kind of unexpected thing. Perhaps the bards in Mondstadt would have had an understanding of this ethereal experience, but everyone in Akademiya knew that Sumeru's literary studies and poetry were not popular.
He decided to solve it in a simple way. He is the acting grand sage now, in other words, the person who is actually in charge of the country's decisions, so there is no difficulty in implementing them. Here's a paperwork explaining your disappearance, you're just traveling somewhere else. Not to mention, you don't have any defenses about what you're drinking. Um, the location of the property, which he was always happy with, was indeed a problem - it was too close to Akademiya, General Mahamatra might notice you, so the soundproofing was updated.
Alhaitham is an educated, decent, civilized man, so he even asks for your opinion - and you reply with some confusion, oh, tour, if you get the chance, you can take it. You choose one of several new traps invented by Kshahrewar, say it's a nice color, you don't know it will be used to lock you later though.
At the beginning, Alhaitham just wanted to keep you at home, like bringing home those roadside pigeons, so that he could observe you at any time. He will provide you with three meals, and even generously have afternoon tea, new clothes, and books. He doesn't have any erotic thoughts. However, Kaveh changed that.
Kaveh sees you trying in vain to unlock the house. It was a strange sight. (Alhaitham allows you to do this because everyone has the right to use their intelligence.) He's shocked and confused by what happened - like, is this what he thought? His roommate locked someone up? Kaveh tries to explain to Alhaitham that it's wrong to lock someone up like this, but ends up not discussing it and living with the two of you.
Gradually, you can't help but seek comfort from Kaveh, the architect who often cares about you. He brings you some desserts and is willing to hear your complaints about Alhaitham. On the weekend, Kaveh wanted to go drink with some architect friends, but stayed home after hearing your tearful plea (“Please… please don’t go, don’t leave me at home….”)
What broke this kind of life was that one day, Kaveh held your cheeks and gave you a breathless, long forced kiss. His tongue twirled in your mouth, his long fingers rubbed against your private parts. Your struggles and panics are not fully understood. Alhaitham was flipping the pages of a book on the couch, watching you being forced to kiss and fingering…and then he pressed on to you. The sound of wet slapping and sobbing echoed loudly in the living room.
Maybe, he should try this?
771 notes · View notes
Text
Company Policy
Tumblr media
Milo was stuck on the worst run he’d ever taken. Cargo needed in 2 days and just under that time to get there in his truck if he drove without sleeping. It would have been near torture and even if the payout was better than amazing, it wasn’t something he would’ve taken a week ago.
Milo had a trick these days.
He’d picked up a hitchhiker. A backpacking twenty something, dumb and rugged. A golden retriever of a man that was handsome in a sense, but not in any way Milo was interested in. Too sweet and trusting for him. Men didn’t last long around him like that.
Especially now.
He’d been sweaty when Milo had picked him up, his shirt wet with the hot sun and turned to mud from the dust. That’s what you ask for travelling around the middle of the southern nowhere. Barely a thing worth shit on the endless roads between truck stops and motels. Maybe a rattlesnake or two.
It had been easy to get the happy fool to wear one of his backup Tees. He kept his spare uniforms in the back, enough to last him the long trips. Gray polyester that was boringly company policy to wear no matter what. Like Milo was employed under Amazon or FedEx instead the knock off generic delivery company that was obsessed with him maintaining their nonexistent brand.
Company policy was absolute. Not the soft idea of absolute, Milo receiving consequences for not following the rules or maybe even getting fired. Nothing weak and mundane like that.
Company policy like this was some mind-bending shit. It wasn’t something that could be broken, not by Milo who’d already signed his employment contract. He was bound by it’s rules and it would be a claustrophobic feeling had he not gotten such a good contract. Great pay, great time off and an understanding boss. He could deal with the strange aspects of that contract for the benefits. Even manipulate them sometimes.
Only employees can wear their uniform. The contract states that on page 2 in full bold letters. Followed by a bunch of stipulations about assignment of uniform sizes and assorted accommodations.
The hitchhiker wore one of his shirts now. His ragged sweaty one was somewhere on the floor, balled up under the passenger seat. The man had said it was surprisingly comfortable for a uniform. Said he’d worked as a cashier for some fast-food joint and that theirs were scratchy. He’d said he was surprised Milo’s shirt fit him so well.
Company policy demands that only the employee who owns the uniform wears the uniform. Milo wondered if the hitchhiker noticed how baggy the shirt was on him minutes ago. How it sagged around his shoulders, the man smaller than him by far. Now it fit perfectly, tight against his skin.
Milo asks if the man knows about his favorite TV show. Some niche drama going back to the 90s, echoing the same plots over and over and over. The hitchhiker squints his darkening eyebrows, recognition blooming in real time. The man just remembering something he’d surely never watched.
He’d been clean shaven, but now the guy’s face was covered in a shadow that Milo recognized. He’d discuss his travels as he gazed outside. Not noticing the moment when the tales of a hitchhiker faded into recollections of hauls gone hilariously wrong.
Milo watched the changes out the corner of his eye, relaxing as the awkward conversation became easy. Their language becoming more and more alike by the second, the nervous dog of a man becoming loud like Milo. Discussing their nearly identical plan of scaling the Devil’s Tower and free climbing whatever parts of the Grand Canyon they could get to. Bragging about how little they needed to workout with so much time to spend climbing.
The other made sounds of discomfort every now and then. Milo wondered if it hurt to have a life scooped out and filled in again. It was likely just disorienting, the hitchhiker seeming to try to recount his college years only to remember that he’d been a cross country trucker for the last six years. He’d laughed about how nice it was that truckers could rely on each other when they needed help. Milo joked that it was hard not to pick him up when he was so handsome. They laughed because they looked remarkably similar.
At some point, Milo realized that he had ended up in the passenger seat. As if he’d slowly bled into existence without the awareness to realize it. Feeling a slight desynchrony from the still sweaty cargo shorts and trainers he’d been left with. The other Milo laughed at him when he complained. They both knew he had brought an extra pair of sneakers for this exact situation.
They were mirror images now, matching short beards and curly hair. A situation they were both used to by now. Three times policy had assured that the person wearing his uniform was Milo, no matter how it broke the rules of reality to do so. They were short staffed so his boss had told him to keep it coming.
Milo would always have a buddy for the road, someone to trade shifts with as the other slept. Another Milo keeping him company in every state, at every stop. It only cost a few nobodies and a shirt or pants.
It was a good trick.
207 notes · View notes
candycandy00 · 7 months
Text
The Scarecrow Walks at Night - A Shigaraki x Reader Halloween Fanfic
You spend Halloween night alone at your grandparents’ farm, but there’s something strange about the scarecrow you’ve always felt a connection to.
Part of the League of Villains Halloween Horror Anthology! Featuring Shigaraki as a scarecrow!
Smut. 18+. Horror (the creepy kind not the gory kind). Mild blood. Fem Reader.
🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃
On your way back from a concert you just attended several states away, you decide to stop and spend the night at your grandparents’ farm. You thought it would be fun to drive to the concert instead of flying, make a solo road trip of it and stop here and there along the way, seeing the sights. 
Turns out there aren’t that many sights to see in rural farm country. So you decided to just drive straight home after the concert, but you’ve been getting drowsy and decide you need to stop somewhere today and rest. That’s when you remember the farm your grandparents live on, just a thirty minute drive out of your way, sitting at just about the halfway point between the concert venue and home. It’s the perfect place to rest, and you just know your grandparents will be thrilled to see you. 
As a child, you visited the farm often, spending many summers there. But when you were around nine years old, your parents stopped taking you to the farm. Something about your grandparents buying an RV and looking for any excuse to travel, so they came to visit you and your parents instead of the other way around. You missed playing on the farm, feeding the animals, running through the massive cornfield. But over the years your memories of the farm faded, until your time there was more like half forgotten dreams. 
Still, you had GPS, and when the signal cut out on your phone due to the unreliable rural cell service, you had your hazy memories to guide you to the farm. 
It was hard to miss actually, being large and having a beautiful big white farm house, a bright red barn, and various other structures like tool sheds, storage buildings, and things of that nature. All things you suddenly remember playing around or in as you pull into the driveway. 
You immediately notice that there are no vehicles in sight. You know they still own an SUV and an old pickup truck aside from the RV, but none of them are parked nearby. You tried to call them a couple of times before you lost service, but couldn’t get through to them. They were old fashioned though, and disliked cell phones. If they were not home, chances are you’d never get ahold of them. 
After getting out of your car, you walk to the front door and knock. No answer comes. The whole house is silent. In the distance you hear chickens clucking, but no other noise. With a disappointed sigh, you walk over to a free standing garage your grandpa had built way before you were born. There’s a crack between the heavy wooden doors big enough for you to peek inside. You can see the SUV and the pickup, but no RV. They must be out traveling somewhere. 
You’re about to give up and go find a motel in town when an idea strikes you. When you were a child, you remember your grandparents leaving a house key under some stones in the front yard. You jog over and search, easily finding a shiny metal key. It was amazing how many memories were coming back to you now that you were here. 
You step back onto the front porch and use the key on the door. You know your sweet, easy going grandparents wouldn’t mind you staying at their house even if they aren’t home. 
As you open the door, you notice a homemade wreath decorated in orange and black colors, a plastic pumpkin glued to it. You’d almost forgotten that today is Halloween! 
After carrying in your overnight bag and looking around the house a bit, you walk back outside. There’s something you need to see before it gets dark out. 
You walk through the cornfield, the path feeling familiar to you, almost like second nature. Yes, you remember now. How could you have ever forgotten? You walked this same path so many times as a child, walking it now is like muscle memory. 
Finally, toward the end of the cornfield, close to the edge of the property, you find it. 
“I’m back, Tomura,” you say, looking up. “Did you miss me?”
High above you, affixed to a wooden stake, is a scarecrow. He’s dressed in faded denim pants and a red and black flannel shirt that is in surprisingly good shape. On his head sits an old hat, long scraggly corn silks hanging out from under it serving as his hair. Two red-colored stones function as his eyes. As always, he seems to be looking right at you. 
While there are many scarecrows on the property, this one is special to you. Even as a child, you were drawn to it. You came out here to play every day, and you pretended he was your “boyfriend”. Which meant you had tea parties with him and imagined him dancing with you at Cinderella-style balls. Most of all, you just talked to him. You told him everything, every mundane detail of your day, every secret, every fear. And somehow, it felt like he was listening. 
Some local kids who came over to play with you occasionally told you his name was Tomura, and you never forgot it. You almost forgot the scarecrow himself, but not that name. It was burned into your mind. 
They told you other things about him too. Things that made you cry. What was it again? Something about Tomura once being a real young man. Ah, the memories were coming back more clearly now. 
It was the kind of silly story kids make up to scare each other. They told you that long ago, way before your grandparents owned the farm, Tomura lived there with his family. When he became an adult, he wanted to leave the farm and move to the city. But his abusive father wouldn’t accept that, and as punishment, Tomura was tied to the stake like a living scarecrow and left in the cornfield. It was just supposed to be an unpleasant afternoon, but something went wrong, and Tomura died out there. 
For some reason, his corpse was left tied to the stake, and exactly one year later, on Halloween night, Tomura came back to life and slaughtered his entire family in his madness. 
But that’s not the part that bothered you. No, you were crying over the cruelty of his father, the sadness Tomura must have felt. As a child, you ran to the scarecrow and hugged his feet, sobbing out apologies for what had been done to him. Around that time your grandparents told you to stop playing with the scarecrow, apparently worried that you were growing too attached to the thing. Come to think of it, that was the last summer you spent with them. 
There was another part to the story the kids told you, a part that did actually frighten you, but you can’t remember what it was. As you gaze up at the scarecrow, you wonder if that memory will return while you’re here. 
When you were here last, you could barely reach his feet, but now you’re tall enough to reach his waist. You step closer to him, feeling oddly shy before giggling to yourself. He’s just a scarecrow. It was just a dumb story. You find yourself wrapping your arms around him, giving him the hug you couldn’t quite manage before. 
Looking up into those red “eyes”, you smile at him. “I don’t know if you remember me,” you say, feeling a little foolish for talking to him but also feeling the need to say this, “but I came here a lot when I was little. I played here, talking to you and pretending we were friends. I know you couldn’t talk back, but I always felt like you heard me. Thanks for that. You made my childhood a little less lonely.” 
You release his straw body and back away. “I’m sorry it’s been so long since I came to see you. I’ll be here tonight and a little while tomorrow. I’ll come say goodbye before I leave.”
Blushing slightly at your own silliness, you walk back into the cornfield, toward the house. You feel a little better now that you’ve gotten that off your chest. You knew he couldn’t actually hear you. He was an inanimate object after all. But you said those words for yourself, not him. 
You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket just a few feet into the corn. You check it to see that you have two bars of signal out here. You make sure there are no important messages or missed calls, no contact from your grandparents, before going back to the house. 
The sun is setting as you step onto the porch, and you take a moment to appreciate the view of the lovely pink sky over the farm before going inside. 
Over the next hour, you make yourself comfortable. You shower and change into comfy little knit shorts and tank top, what you use as pajamas, and help yourself to some snacks in the kitchen before curling up in front of their surprisingly impressive tv to watch a movie. Being Halloween night, most channels are having horror movie marathons, so you settle on part eight of a random horror franchise. It’s a movie you saw when you were a teenager, but you’ve forgotten most of the “plot” by now. 
Only twenty minutes into the film, you hear a knocking at the front door. Your first thought is that it’s your grandparents, but then you quickly remind yourself that they wouldn’t knock on their own door. So who could it be? Trick or treaters? Possible, but this house is practically in the middle of nowhere. Maybe your grandparents are known for giving out great candy? If so, these kids are going to be disappointed. 
You grab the Little Debbie cake and small bag of chips you’d laid out for yourself and head to the door. When you open it, no one is there. You sit the snacks on a nearby table and step out onto the porch. 
“Hello?” you ask, rubbing your bare arms with your hands. You didn’t realize the nights were so chilly here in the fall. The porch light is glowing bright yellow above your head, and you get the distinct impression that someone is looking at you, watching you. It suddenly feels like you’re under a spotlight as you gaze out over the inky black darkness of the farm, only broken up by a couple of lights situated near the tool shed and the garage. 
Mildly creeped out, you hurry back inside, making sure to lock the door. 
You return to the movie, having apparently not missed much. As the minutes pass by, you begin to relax again, figuring you were probably just mistaken when you thought you heard the knocking. This is an old house that you’re not overly familiar with. Of course it’s going to make creepy sounds occasionally. 
Just as your eyes begin to slide closed, drowsiness overtaking you, the knocking comes again. This time louder, more frantic. You practically jump off the couch in alarm. You stand there for a moment, listening, your heart beating wildly. This is not your imagination. This is definitely not just the sounds of an old house settling. This is literal banging! And it won’t stop. 
You mind races. Could this be trick or treaters? Doubtful. The banging certainly doesn’t sound like it’s coming from children. A Halloween prank then? Perhaps some local teens spotted your car in the driveway and decided to have a little fun with you? 
As the banging intensifies, you can’t help considering the darker possibilities. Maybe someone had planned to break into your grandparents’ house while they were away and now you’re just an unexpected obstacle they would have to deal with. Or maybe it’s a serial killer on the prowl? Or hell, maybe the house is fucking haunted. 
You slowly step closer to the door, and when you’re just a few feet away, you scream out, “What do you want?”
The banging immediately stops. You stare at the door, disappointed that it’s an old wooden type that has no peephole or windows. You don’t hear a response. You don’t hear anything. No voices, no footsteps walking off the creaky wooden porch. So are they still there? Just waiting on the other side of the door? 
“I have a gun!” you shout. “If you try to come inside, I’ll blow your fucking brains out! I don’t care who you are!”
You listen for any sort of reaction, but hear nothing. You creep closer to the door, trying to hear footsteps, hoping to hear them leaving. Just as you get close enough to press your ear to the door, something on the other side bangs against it loudly, making the wood tremble on the hinges. You scream and leap back. 
That’s it. You’re not putting up with this any longer! You run over to the landline phone in the kitchen and pick it up to call the police, but to your horror, there’s no dial tone. You check two more phones in the house, but get the same results. Did the person outside cut the phone line? Or had your grandparents been off traveling for so long that they didn’t bother paying their phone bill? Either way, you’re fucked. 
You check your cell phone just in case, hoping for a miracle, but there’s no service. 
Suddenly you remember something, more of that story the kids told you all those years ago. Something happens every year on Halloween night, that’s what they said. But what was it? You try to force yourself to remember the rest, but you just can’t. Anyway, it was just a dumb kids’ story. You have more important things to deal with, like the banging on the front door that just won’t stop. 
All you want to do is run to your car and drive away from here, but you’re too scared to go outside. Also, you’re parked close to the front porch, which is exactly where the threat is. 
“Go away!” you scream through the door. “I called the police! They’ll be here any minute!”
The banging suddenly stops again. Did your bluff work? You creep closer to the door again, cautiously. Then you hear it, the sound of footsteps! The porch floorboards creak and groan as someone makes their way across it, slowly and steadily. Then it sounds like they’re going down the steps. 
You run to the living room and try to peep out the window without being seen, but you only catch a quick glimpse of a shadow going around the corner of the house, toward the back. 
Is the back door locked? You never checked it after you got here, but surely your grandparents left it locked. Then again, this was exactly the sort of place where people would feel safe leaving their doors unlocked. 
You make a mad dash for the back door, running through the living room, kitchen, and laundry room to find the brown wooden door. 
It’s unlocked! 
Just as you reach for it, there’s a sudden banging on the wood, making you jump back in terror. You’re too late! You back away from the door, waiting for it to open and reveal some dangerous figure ready to kill you. 
But it doesn’t open. The knob never even turns. Are they not even going to check to see if it’s locked? The banging stops then, and is replaced by another sound. Scraping. Like metal on wood. Like a blade scratching the door. 
What the hell is going on?! If they’re not coming in, are they actually just trying to terrify you? Is it a Halloween prank after all? Or is it a killer who just wants to toy with you for a while first? The fact that they’re still here after your bluffs about the gun and the police suggests they aren’t just pranksters. 
But… something else occurs to you. If they’re back here, then they’re not on the front porch. Which means you could possibly make it to your car! There’s a risk involved. If there’s more than one person out there, one of them could be waiting to ambush you. Or the person could run around to the front before you make it to your car. But the risk of  staying put is even greater. Whoever is out there could come in at any moment. Even if the back door was locked, there were several windows that could easily be broken and climbed through. 
With no time to give it any more thought, you make a split decision. You dash through the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the wooden knife block on the counter as you go, then to the living room where you grab your keys and your phone. You cram the phone into your bra, having no pockets in the tiny, thin pajama shorts you’re wearing, then you unlock the front door and fling it open. 
Thankfully, there’s no one on the other side, and no one on the porch when you step outside. With the coast clear, you run straight for your car and throw yourself into the driver’s seat. You stick the keys in the ignition, still clutching the knife in one trembling hand. You turn the key, and you hear the engine begin to start, and then… nothing. It dies. You turn the key again, but the car still won’t start. You try several more times, growing more panicked and frantic with each attempt. Screaming in frustration and slapping the steering wheel, you accidentally cut your own hand with the knife. 
“Shit!” You wipe the blood off on your white tank top and jump out of the car, popping the hood at the same time. You know nothing about cars, but you feel like you should check anyway. When you look under the hood, you feel your stomach drop to your feet. 
The engine is completely demolished. It looks like someone took a large blunt object and just… wrecked it. Destroyed it. You close the hood and look toward the house. Do you have time to make it back inside and lock the front door? What if the person outside the back door finally tried to open it and is now hiding in the house? 
While you’re still debating with yourself on what to do, you see movement coming from the side of the house. Someone is coming! You want to see who it is, but you don’t want to be discovered out here. You had the good sense to shut the front door, so it might take them a while to realize you’re no longer in there. 
You dart into the cornfield, using it as cover. You try to look through the stalks, but you can’t see the person clearly. You can only make out what looks like a red shirt, and some sort of long, shiny weapon. 
Suddenly you remember that your phone got a couple bars of service earlier today when you were close to the end of the field, near Tomura. Deciding this is your best shot at getting help, you run through the corn as fast as you can. 
It takes several minutes for you to reach the end of the field, and you’ve already got your phone out, checking for bars, staring at the brightly lit screen in the darkness. When you reach Tomura, you’re focused on your phone, but there’s still no service. When you finally glance up, you realize something is wrong. You step back and tilt your phone up, using its light to see. 
The stake is empty. Tomura, the scarecrow, is gone. 
The confusion is so strong that it briefly overrides your fear. Did someone steal him? For what purpose? 
And then, like puzzle pieces fitting together, you remember the rest of the story those kids told you so long ago. 
“Every year, on Halloween night, Tomura comes back to life. He climbs down from his stake and stalks the farm, killing everyone he finds!”
You stare at the empty stake, trying to convince yourself that it was just a story, that someone is pulling a very elaborate prank on you. But somehow, in that moment, you know the truth. You sense it. Tomura had been outside those doors. Tomura had destroyed your car. And Tomura was going to kill you. 
The vibration of your phone startles you, causing you to yelp in fear. You look at the screen one bar! Praying it’s enough, you quickly begin dialing 911, but the bar disappears before you can finish. 
“No!” you hiss at your phone, trying to walk around to different spots to get more service. 
You’re so focused on the phone again that you bump into something in the darkness. You freeze, swallowing and slowly turning the phone’s screen around to illuminate what your body is currently pressed against. 
A red and black flannel shirt. You scream and jump back, realizing that Tomura is right in front of you, narrowly avoiding the blade of an enormous reef hook that he’s swinging at you. In the chaos and the dark, you don’t see his face clearly, but you know it’s him. He swings the reef hook again, then a third time, each time barely missing you as you shriek and dodge. 
“Please stop, Tomura!” you cry, still holding the knife in your hand but unable to get close enough to use it. 
He freezes mid swing, the weapon held high above his head. The shiny metal blade seems to quiver for a moment as you scramble to back away, but then he swings it down. You try to jerk out of the way, but it swipes your shoulder, severing the strap of your tank top and leaving a thin, bloody slice in your skin. You cry out in pain and clutch the wound. It’s not very deep, but it hurts, and blood is leaking out around your fingers. 
Again, Tomura seems to freeze in place. This time you manage to run back into the cornfield, turning off your phone so the light doesn’t give you away. You run and run, not even sure which direction you’re going in. Are you going back to the house? Or somewhere else? Where even is the nearest neighbor? 
When you finally break free of the corn, you find yourself in front of the old barn. It hadn’t been used in years even when you used to visit as a child, so you’d often played in it. You remember being scolded for climbing into the hayloft. With precious few options, you decide to try hiding inside it. 
The barn smells a bit musty, but not too bad otherwise. Your grandparents were sticklers for maintenance, even on old buildings they no longer used. You find a corner, behind some hay stacks, and hide there, trying to be as silent as possible. 
If the story those kids told you is true, and it’s certainly looking that way at this point, then Tomura only has Halloween night to roam about. So when morning comes, he’ll have to return to the stake. You look at your phone. It’s not quite ten yet! You don’t know if you’ll be able to evade Tomura until sunrise. 
Sitting here hiding, you finally have a moment to think about what’s happening. Tomura is alive. He’s a scarecrow, but he’s alive! But his body didn’t feel like straw when you bumped into him in the cornfield just now. It felt more solid than that. Almost like a real human body. 
Regardless, he is trying to kill you, and that thought pains you even more than it scares you. Why is he doing this? You’ve always felt a connection to him, an affection for him. Did he hate you all along? Or does he simply kill whoever he sees on Halloween night, no matter who they are? Maybe he doesn’t even recognize you. Maybe he doesn’t even have an actual consciousness, but is just a killing machine. Every possibility seems sadder than the last. 
Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the door to the barn swing open. You clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle your breathing, and try to sink closer to the ground, to blend in with the darkness and the hay. 
You hear footsteps walking through the barn, stacks of hay being tossed aside. He’s searching for you! This is a bad idea. You need to get out of the barn, try to get to another house, maybe even flag someone down on the road. Before he gets any closer, you jump out of your hiding spot and run toward the back door of the barn. He sees you, of course, and you hear the footsteps running behind you. But you’re close to the door. You can make it! You can disappear into the cornfield again and-
It’s locked. Just as you reach the back door of the barn, you realize it’s locked up with a chain and padlock. You let out a frustrated whine and turn around just as the reef hook swings toward you. Ducking to avoid it, you run to the side, where you find a ladder to the hayloft. You know climbing up there is a terrible idea, that you’ll just be trapped up there, but at the moment, it’s the only path open to you. Maybe you’ll get lucky and be able to push him off the edge. 
So you climb, and you feel a strangely warm hand grab at your bare thigh. That’s definitely not straw! You jerk away, shaking off his grip as you climb further up, finally reaching the hayloft and then backing away from the ladder, watching him climb up after you, his weapon’s handle stuck in the waistband of his jeans. 
Once he’s up here with you, he walks slowly toward you, and when he steps into a beam of moonlight shining in through a small window in the barn, you finally see his face. 
Oh. He’s not a scarecrow at all. Not anymore. Standing before you is a totally alive human man. Young, early twenties you’d guess, with long silver hair that looks almost blue in the moonlight. He’s pale, with a few small but noticeable scars on his face, and striking red eyes that are staring at you as he gets closer. 
He’s beautiful. He’s everything you imagined all those years ago, when you dreamed of him being a “real boy”. 
You back away, almost in a daze, and end up tripping on some hay and falling to the floor. You manage to get to your knees, but by this point he’s reached you, looming over you with his weapon gripped in both hands. You’re a mess at this point. There’s blood all over your tank top, cuts on your hand and your shoulder that are still bleeding, one strap of your top sliced through and hanging low, almost exposing your breast, your shorts ripped. 
You look up at him, knowing there’s no escape, deciding to at least die seeing your precious Tomura alive and real. He lifts the reef hook over his head, still staring down at you, and all you can say is one word. 
“Tomura…”
He falters. The reef hook trembles in his grip. “Why are you here?!” he screams, his voice strained, his face twisting in pain. “Why would you come here, tonight of all nights?! Any other day… any other night… and I would have been so happy to see you…”
“What are you talking about?” you ask, totally confused. 
He growls in frustration, the weapon still shaking in his hands. You get to your feet. The knife from the kitchen is still in your hand. Right now, you could stab him. You’re close enough. But that’s not what you want to do. Instead, you do the one thing you’ve always wanted to do, since you were a little girl. 
You hug him. 
The weapon slips from his hands and lands with a dull thud on the hay strewn floor as you hear him make a faint gasping sound. 
“Please talk to me, Tomura,” you say. “I can finally hear your voice. So please just tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s Halloween night!” he yells, his arms dropping to his sides, not touching you. “Don’t you know? It’s the one night a year my body is restored! And I… I can’t control myself… all I can feel is rage and hate and… I just want to kill, to destroy… that’s the only way I can feel alive!”
He stops for a moment, and you can hear him breathing, feel his heart beating in his chest. He truly is alive! 
“Every year, your grandparents leave the farm on Halloween,” he says, his voice a bit calmer now. “I haven’t killed anyone in years, and all this bloodlust I feel has been building and building… and then you show up. You! The one person I never wanted to hurt!”
You look up at him. “You recognize me?” 
“Of course I do! For years you were the only person who talked to me! I knew you the moment you came to see me today in the field, even if you’re grown up now.”
His red eyes seem to sweep down over your figure, and you feel heat in your face. “Wait… does that mean you’re conscious when you’re a scarecrow?”
“Yeah. I’m aware of everything that goes on around me.”
Now you’re really embarrassed. All that time you were talking to him, he really was listening! But you can’t dwell on it for long. He pushes you away from him suddenly. 
“You need to run. Get off the property. Or get inside the main house. I’m not allowed to go inside it.”
You shake your head. “No, Tomura, I don’t want to leave you out here. I dreamed of you being real, being alive, all my life. I want to stay with you!”
His beautiful face looks anguished. “I don’t know how long I can keep myself from attacking you! Every inch of my body is screaming to hurt you, to do anything to feel alive!”
You step closer to him again. You thought you felt something when you hugged him before, but you want to be sure. You press yourself against him, and sure enough, you can feel that he’s hard, his erection straining against his pants. You reach down one hand and lightly rub over it. His breath hitches as his eyes widen. 
“Maybe there’s another way you can feel alive,” you tell him. 
A faint blush spreads over his face. “Is that… something you want?” 
You nod. “Do you want it too?”
Without a word, he suddenly kisses you, finally wrapping his arms around you for the first time as his lips press to yours. You breathe out a sigh against his mouth, content to be held by him. 
Then his hands are moving over you, a bit clumsily, tugging at your tank top, trying to pull it up. You laugh as you pull back from him. “Have you ever done this before? I mean, before you…”
“Before I died?” he asks, looking a little shy. “Yeah, a few times. It’s been about a hundred years though.”
You slip your tank top off and unhook your bra, letting it fall to the floor while he stares with wide eyes. “It’s okay,” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck, “I’m sure it’ll all come back to you.”
He smiles then, his warm hands sliding down your bare back, stopping to squeeze your ass through your shorts. You kiss him again, this time more deeply, your tongue in his mouth, and then your hands fly to the buttons of his flannel shirt, undoing them as quickly as you can. When he lets you pull his shirt off his shoulders, your eyes rake over his toned body appreciatively. In life, he was a farm boy, and it shows. 
His fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and panties, pulling them both down in one go. You step out of them, then unbutton his jeans. Before you can slide them down his hips, he’s pushing you gently down into the hay, on your back, and climbing on top of you. 
You’d been chilly before, but now your whole body feels hot as his half-clothed body grinds against yours, his mouth warm on your neck. One of his hands is gripping your thigh, pulling it up beside him and making it easier for him to position himself between your legs. 
His mouth moves down from your neck to your chest, his lips enclosing over one nipple, his tongue darting out to flick it. You moan, your hands in his soft hair. When he slides one hand down to stroke the wet, hot flesh between your thighs, your back arches automatically, your body smashing against his. 
You can’t wait any longer. You shove his pants down to his knees, not entirely surprised that he’s not wearing underwear. He was a scarecrow until a few hours ago after all. Even though you know he’s a living breathing human right now, you’re still relieved to see that he has all his parts and they’re in working order. 
He begins kissing you again, and when his hand brushes over your shoulder, it grazes your wound, making you wince. He draws back, looking at the cut. “I’m sorry,” he says, sounding hurt, “I was so confused. I wanted to kill you, but at the same time I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. So I held back, and I hesitated.”
“I’m glad you did,” you say, raising up to kiss him again. “You could’ve taken my head off if you hadn’t held back.”
“I could never…” he murmurs, moving himself against you, rubbing his warm body across your form. You open your legs, giving him easy access, closing your eyes with a moan. 
“Tomura… I want you inside me…”
His breathing gets faster, more ragged, as he gets into position, then he gently pushes inside you, slowly filling you up. His mouth finds yours as he slides all the way in, and then begins thrusting into you, carefully at first before picking up speed. When you respond with moans and cries of his name, your arms tight around his neck, he begins thrusting more deeply, more roughly, using your reactions to judge how you want him to move. 
He fucks you so well, his body must have remembered exactly how it was done. He’s good, good enough to make you tremble in his arms, clutching him with all your strength as you cum on his cock. 
You wrap your legs around him just to steady yourself as he fucks you through your orgasm, and he kisses you, groaning into your mouth as he cums deeply inside you. 
The next few hours are precious to you, because you know he’ll go back to being a scarecrow when morning comes. You feel like Cinderella enjoying her last few minutes at the ball. 
The two of you sit in the hayloft together, you snuggled up in his flannel shirt, and talk. He tells you about his life before, what really happened to him and his family. His father really had strung him up in the field as punishment, and Tomura really had returned to life one year later and killed his whole family. Aside from his older sister, who had married and moved away from the farm before his death. He seems happy that she was spared, and regretful about killing his mother and grandparents, even though the rage was at its strongest that year. 
He doesn’t know why he comes back to life every year, what sort of magic or curse restores his body and drives him to kill. But the biggest surprise is that your grandparents know about him. 
“They’re nice. I like them,” he says. “They’re a little scared of me, I think. They tend to stay away from me even when it’s not Halloween. But they put new clothes on me when mine get worn out and they even throw a tarp on me when it’s raining real hard.”
The fact that your grandparents take care of a cursed scarecrow makes you smile. But then a thought occurs to you. “Has anyone tried to destroy you?”
He laughs. It’s the first time you’ve heard it but you like the sound of it. “Some have tried over the years,” he says, “but even when someone burned me up in a fire, a few hours later I was back on my stake like nothing happened.”
Happy to know he’s indestructible, you lean your head on his shoulder as the last bit of time you have together slips by. When the sky begins to lighten outside, the two of you walk into the cornfield and to his stake, hand in hand. When you reach it, you pull off his shirt and help him put it back on before he climbs onto the stake and holds his arms up to the wooden frame.
For a moment, you just watch, but then you climb up onto the stake with him and give him one more kiss. “I’ll come back to see you, I promise,” you tell him. 
“I’ll be waiting,” he says back, and then his head droops as rays of sunshine spread across the farm. In an instant, he’s no longer flesh and blood but made of straw. You hug his now thin body before climbing down from the stake. 
****************
It’s Halloween night, one year later, when you park your new car close to your grandparents’ farm house. They’re gone, of course, and despite their misgivings about you being there on Halloween night, they ultimately agreed to let you stay there. 
You’ve been back to the farm several times over this past year just to visit Tomura and talk to him. But today is special. In just a couple of hours, he would come to life and be able to speak to you, touch you, hold you. 
You walk through the field until you reach Tomura. Knowing now that he can hear and see you, a smile spreads over your lips. 
“I’m back, Tomura. I’m really excited about tonight. You are too, right?” you ask, standing at a perfect distance for him to see the cute outfit you wore just for him. You reach down and take hold of the hem of your flowy skirt, then slide the fabric up your thighs, revealing your black lace panties. 
You know it must be your imagination, but you could swear his red stone “eyes” are shining. You laugh and drop your skirt back down. “Just a little preview of what’s waiting for you in the barn tonight,” you say, giving him a sensuous smile before walking back into the field. As you disappear into the corn, you call out, “Happy Halloween, Tomura!”
217 notes · View notes
karinasbaby · 7 months
Text
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 — FORESHADOW (teaser)
Tumblr media
"we can still meet, we will connect no matter what"
Tumblr media
PAIRING. soulmate!jake x fem!reader
WARNINGS.(will contain) some supernatural stuff, my second miserable attempt at angst & fluff, suggestive content, mentions of family problems/trauma, drinking, fights, cursing, and a lot of one-night stands (for now),
WORD COUNT. 585 (looks away)
Tumblr media
in a world where every person is born with numbers of a birthdate engraved in the back of their necks, where every person dreams of their future memories with their other half that the universe had created for them, where on every person's eighteenth birthday they get certain and special initials marked somewhere on their body— all belonging to their soulmate.
sim jaeyun was lost in a daydream,
reminiscing his previous night's memories, heat flooding back to his face as he remembered every second of his dream, he had finally seen his soulmate again,
heart drumming once he recalled how smooth his soulmate's locks felt beneath his fingertips when he carefully raked them through her hair, how soft his soulmate's voice sounded when she called so sweetly for him, just how much her presence affected him even when he never got the chance to see her face properly,
to say that jaeyun was "excited" would be an absolute understatement, the boy was over the moon any and every time he thought about his soulmate, his eyes twinkled whenever the topic of 'soulmates' was brought up around him, loving and longing gaze following every couple he spotted outside, his heart thundering in his chest every night before he went to sleep, will he see his soulmate again tonight?
truth was, jaeyun yearned and craved for a love as pure and tender as his parents' soulmate bond, growing up in a house bursting with affection and joy along with his parents' overflowing love for each other that only seemed to be getting stronger and increasing with each passing decade, only made jaeyun look forward to his own soulmate and how his life would be with her,
how he was so prepared to give all the love in his body to her, spending each and every passing second with his soulmate was something he daydreamed about often, he was so ready to devote himself entirely, body, mind and soul for his soulmate, question was when will he finally meet her?
growing up and hearing myths that got passed around for centuries, the most prevalent one stating that "every person's birth country has a high chance of seventy-five percent of being the same birth country as their soulmate", which resulted in jaeyun refusing to budge away from his birth country, only travelling with his parents for short vacations before he begs them to buy earlier tickets so he can go back,
jaeyun woke up everyday with the phrase "this might be the day that i meet her." ringing in his head continuously till night, finding a different kind of energy that motivates him throughout his day at the mere possibility of his soulmate passing by him any second,
whenever thoughts of his soulmate occupied him completely, with wonder about her whereabouts, what she could possibly be doing at the moment, led jaeyun to turn towards a piece of paper and a pen to empty his system of all of his thoughts and overflowing emotions,
which resulted in this routine becoming some sort of coping mechanism for him when he felt like he was being drowned by his overthinking of his soulmate avoiding him, not wanting to meet him, or worse deciding to end their connection,
and this led to jaeyun having two boxes filled with his 'love letters' stuffed away at the corner of his room, thinking that maybe in the future his soulmate will read them and find his words and worry somewhat amusing,
but what if his soulmate truly didn't want to meet him?
Tumblr media
A, NOTE. if this isn't out till the end of november like the 20-25 then i wish we would all collectively forget about it <3
(feb 2024 update): i’m still working on it !!
159 notes · View notes
souperbloom · 22 days
Note
5sos!reader is genuinely one of my fav tropes omg?? i would love it if you could do smth along the same lines for luke <3
omg i’m so sorry this took me so long to get out. i was pondering on ways to make it perfect since this was such a general request, (i wrote 3 separate stories and hated all of them) but i hope y’all love what i came up with !!! <3
————
crowd pleaser. [l.h.]
Tumblr media
omg i love this gif
bandmate!reader x Luke
in which the final show of tour calls for some ~celebration~
ended this one hella abruptly i’m sorry— i ran out of steam & wanted to get this out LMAO
CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, pet names, unprotected sex, mentions of drinking, exhibitionism (kinda)
WORDCOUNT: 3.8k
⋆⭒˚。⋆
“How long until soundcheck?”
The disembodied voice gives you a fright, but when you snap around to see your boyfriend standing at the door frame of your dressing room, your startled face morphs into a smile.
“Scared the shit outta’ me,” you mumble, turning the pegs of your guitar until each string was in tune.
“I asked a question,” Luke chuckles, skipping past your chair to lean against the wall across from you.
“Dunno’. Maybe you should’ve looked at the clock before you came in here and bothered me.”
You bite back a smile, finding it hard now to concentrate on getting your guitar in tune. Luke steps behind your chair, anchoring his hands on your shoulders. He starts slowly massaging your neck, pressing his thumbs into the pesky knot that you can never seem to reach.
“Someone’s grumpy today, eh?” You could hear his pout, just by his voice alone.
“Not grumpy, no. Just— tryin’ to get shit done so I have some time to get my shit together before the show.”
Today was the final day of tour. Fifty shows, more countries and states than you could count; it felt surreal to say that you’d been traveling across the world to do what you loved most, let alone doing it beside four of your best friends.
The adrenaline level was high in everyone but yourself. You had decided that today would be the one day where you actually planned out your schedule, to allot some time for the emotions that are bound to flood when you realize that this would be your last time performing with your band for a while.
To put it simply, you wanted to lend yourself some time to cry. In a good way.
“You’re so tense baby,” Luke grumbles softly, digging his thumbs into your shoulder blades, “Want a drink or somethin’?”
“No, I’m good.” You give your guitar one final tweak before setting it down on its stand beside you.
“You sure? I’ll take a shot with you right now. C’mon. Let’s do it. One and done.”
“Luke, please,” you laugh, fully turning around in your seat to give him a good look, “It’s like, 3pm.”
“Hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere. Plus, the boys and I may have already ripped back a shot for some confidence.”
You roll your eyes, and Luke bends down to rest his elbows against the back of your chair. His lips are now level with yours and are just dying for a kiss.
“Confidence? Please. You boneheads would use anything as an excuse to get plastered. I swear, you and Cal would pregame a doctor’s appointment.”
Luke seems to read your mind, as he does quite often, and steals a quick kiss after your rambling is done with. His sandy blonde curls flop in front of his eyes, but you’re quick to tuck them behind his ear.
“Baby, come on. This is the finale. We’re supposed to be celebrating!”
“I think we both know that you and I have way different ideas of what it means to celebrate.”
You couldn’t help being so stubborn, it was instilled in you since birth. But Luke made it his mission, as your partner, to do anything in his power to get you to change your mind. And most, if not all of the time, he was quite convincing.
It takes you a few minutes to stand up, after Luke had kindly stepped in front of your dressing room door to basically block you from leaving. There was virtually no escaping his request for a pre-show shot.
But who says you can’t negotiate?
“Y’know babe,” you begin nonchalantly, twisting a lock of your hair between your fingers as you approach Luke’s large, lanky stature, “I have a proposition for you.”
His eyebrows quirk in challenge, “Alright, sure. Since you won’t do a shot with me— Let’s hear it.”
You take a moment to admire him in his silky black button down. The way his braided silver choker sat just above his collarbone and glistened beneath the overhead lamps was making you swoon. You were the one that got him into wearing jewelry, painting his nails, dousing glitter onto his cheeks and eyelids; a bit of self expression. You’d told him that it would help with his stage presence, which was some advice he definitely needed at the start of this tour.
And of course, he took a liking to it. The same way he did with you.
“What if we did something else to celebrate?”
You step closer to him and press your index finger against his chest, trailing it down and catching it onto the top button of his shirt. His eyes bounce between your wandering digit and your face, as he urges you silently to continue.
“Something else, hm? Like what?”
“We could— pass some time.”
His body tenses up the moment you make a sly effort to undo that top button. Short, staggered breaths begin to leave his throat as you continue to taunt him with your stare.
“I’ve always been intrigued by pre-show quickies.”
Luke’s eyes widened at your brutal honesty, ocean blue pricked with sparkling icy streaks that had undoubtedly shifted into something a bit darker. You bite your lip, he returns, and it takes everything inside of him not to pull you in closer.
“Really?” he stammers slightly, the back of his knuckles grazing your midriff, “Since when?”
“Since I saw how fuckin’ sexy you looked in that shirt this morning.”
Luke smacks his teeth, tilting his head to the side and reinstating that dominant air he holds over you so well, “Well, I’m not— opposed to the idea, baby…”
You hum in reply, the only thing you’re capable of thinking about is how his hands felt crawling down to your hips.
“…But just so you know, we only have about twenty minutes ‘till call time.”
“So you did know how much time we had, you fuckin’ liar.”
He chuckles quietly, before pulling you into him and pressing his body against yours, “I just wanted an excuse to come bother you. You should know me a bit better by now.”
It was getting harder to just stand there and stare at your boyfriend’s pretty face— his big cerulean eyes and deep set dimples that made you want to just grab him by his cheeks and tackle him down to the floor. But you’re stronger than that. You started this dance, so you might as well keep up.
“I think twenty minutes is plenty of time,” you try your best at sounding confident and sensual, knowing that if he were to move his hand an inch closer to your thigh, you’d fold like a wet paper towel.
“Really?” He muses, subtly stepping you back further into the room.
“Yup.”
“You’re awfully confident.”
It was now a battle of who could keep the eye contact the longest without getting distracted. Now that there was a set time constraint, the stakes had raised ten fold.
“I think we could do better than twenty minutes. How’s fifteen? Maybe even ten?”
“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, gorgeous…”
In a daze, Luke spins you around and suddenly has your back pressed against the wall. You could practically feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs as his hand travels up your chest and loosely grips the base of your neck.
“…You know I like to take my time.”
A quiet moan slips past your lips as Luke begins a trail of sultry kisses down your jaw, to the base of your collarbone. He kept his grasp on you firm, yet still loose enough for you to slip out if need be.
“Mmmh, baby—” you chirp, your head angling back to give him better access to the sweet spot of your neck, “the door.”
He pops his head up for a moment, only to take your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, and stare you down with those cool baby blues.
“The door? Who gives a fuck about the door? Let ‘em hear it.”
You can’t really argue with that, so you just go limp in his arms as he continues to taunt you with his lips and tongue. He takes his free hand and grabs ahold of your thigh to prop it up against his hip.
What was once a journey of hickies and love bites had now transformed into a steamy make-out session. Luke groans into your mouth each time your hips swivel forward to meet his groin— you could barely contain the sounds that were echoing past your lips and bouncing off the walls of your dressing room.
You take a moment to catch your breath as Luke tugs at the hemline of your top.
“This. Off. Now.”
“Mmkay,” you sigh dreamily, following orders as it was now clear that Luke had taken the reins.
You manage to wrangle his lips off of your neck for a moment to allow you to peel your shirt over your head. But that split second felt like an eternity for Luke; for he had been dying to get his hands on you all morning and the last thing he wanted was to bother you.
But once you’d given him the signs that ‘bothered’ is the only thing you wanted to be, he didn’t think twice.
“Fuck, baby— been thinkin’ about you all morning,” Luke mumbles through his teeth, taking in the sight of your bare chest and simple black bra.
“Have you?”
“Mhmm. ‘Been thinkin’ about why my girl’s been so grumpy today. Guess she just needed a bit of attention, hm?”
Luke’s condescending words send a chill down your spine, along with that wandering hand of his. It had traveled towards your navel and hooked to the waistband of your skirt to pull you in even closer.
The only word you could muster was a simple curse word, a ‘fuck’, for good measure. But Luke didn’t seem satisfied with that reply.
“Is my girl gonna talk to me? Or am I just gonna stand here n’ talk to myself until she finds it in her to answer me?”
“Luke,” you whine his name yet still, his thirst isn’t quenched.
“C’mon baby— I know you can do it. You gonna’ beg for me? Like you always do?”
Your eyelids flutter closed in bliss, your hands on their own beating path towards the waistband of his skinny jeans. You could hear him tsk in disapproval before his hand is softly tapping against your cheek.
“Keep those eyes on me, pretty girl. Don’t think you can finish what you started?”
The moment you open your mouth to reply, you’re whipped out of this dreamlike state by a knock at your door frame.
“Ten minutes ‘till stage. We need everyone in the wings for a company meeting.”
The panic in your eyes immediately transfers over to Luke, who had flinched only slightly upon hearing your manager’s voice. You roll your lips inward, fighting a giggle yet still feeling vulnerable from the position Luke was holding you in.
“You got lucky, baby,” Luke leans down to whisper into your ear, “Saved by the bell.”
You eventually find enough confidence to tease, “Who says we can’t finish this later?”
“Uuuughhhhhh.”
He whines into your neck, his head hanging low and knocking against the wall with a disgruntled huff. You could tell by the way his body language changed that he was rather disappointed.
“Don’t whine, you sound like a child,” you giggle, playfully shoving his slouched body and sending him stumbling backwards.
With a bit of a fight, Luke groans, before picking up your shirt and handing it to you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. “Promise we’ll pick this back up later?”
You bite back a smile, and pull your shirt over your head. He physically winces once you fully put it back on.
“I promise. It’ll be like we never even left.”
After a moment of pouting and rolling his eyes, Luke fixes himself in your mirror beside you, gathering his thoughts and shaking his head clear as the two of you bicker about the impending final show.
“Maybe I’ll give you a little special something after the show tonight. My treat,” Luke announces proudly, fixing the collar of his shirt.
“Your treat? I’m intrigued.”
You let your mind run rampant as you sling your guitar over your shoulder, admiring your pretty boyfriend through the mirror as he fluffs his hair and double checks his eyeshadow.
“Mhm. But— only if you’re good. Gotta’ see you giving it your all out there.” Luke takes a wide step to tower over you, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.
“Oh please Luke, I’m always good. Good to you, good to the band— I basically have sex with the crowd every night.”
“Don’t go making me jealous now, baby,” he muses, “I’ll see you out there.”
Luke’s flirty goodbye is topped off with a kiss to your cheek, before he’s saluting you and waltzing out of the door like nothing even happened. You can’t help but stand in his place in awe, fiddling with the neck of your guitar impetuously as the thought of him floods your mind even more so than before.
This was about to be the longest fucking show of your life.
~
It was just about eleven and the show finally had come to a close with an encore.
To say that the energy was through the roof was an understatement; the crowd was consistently feeding off of the band and the last thing you wanted to do was to leave it behind. But, of course, you were dragged away by the fall of the curtains and the eruption of colorful confetti.
You blew kisses, gave hugs, and even managed to find some time to toss a few guitar picks down by the barricade. But what you weren’t expecting was followed after curtain fall, when your boyfriend had decided to scoop you and your handful of picks up bridal style, and run you offstage like a bullet.
“Baby, you were amazing out there,” Luke whispers hurriedly into your ear, still holding you tightly in his arms as he barreled down the hall away from the wings.
“Luke, where are we—?”
Your question is cut off abruptly by him tipping you over and planting you back onto your feet. It took you a second to regain your balance but in the moment that you did, Luke had you pinned against the cinder block wall of the backstage area.
The gaze in his eyes was ravening, restless— his pupils were shaking and his once crystal irises had flitted to a deep indigo hue. Your breath catches in your throat as he tries to collect his own, still carrying the fatigue of running with you in his arms.
“I owe you— something special,” his words are chopped up by staggered breathing, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. You reach up between your temperate bodies to wipe it away.
“You could’ve at least given yourself a minute to relax after the show, Lu,” you console softly, but Luke shakes his head frantically.
“No, no— no. Had— had to get you here. Now. Want you— right here.”
“Right here?” You whisper back, glancing over his shoulder at the empty hallway.
“Yes. Right here. Please, baby. Been dying’ to get my hands on you. Got me so fuckin’ worked up out there… Felt like I was suffocating.”
You watch your boyfriend's face flash a plethora of different emotions; tired, hungry, desperate, lovesick. All of the things you were feeling throughout your little pre-show rendezvous.
“O-okay… If that’s what you wa—”
“Do you want to? We don’t have to, I’m just— I couldn’t wait to touch you, baby.”
His voice trembles as he whines desperately, leaning closer into your ear with each syllable. It’s hard to ignore his vehement pleading, especially since you’d promised to pick up right where you had left off.
As you’re about to give him the okay to proceed, he flushes his body against yours. You could feel the rock solid erection that was held captive by his restricting uniform skinny jeans, and the feeling of it almost brought you to moan.
“Feel what you do to me, gorgeous? Can you feel how fuckin’ hard I am for you? Want you— want you everywhere, baby.”
In a daze you’re nodding and in no time, his lips are on yours like a magnet. It had become a frenzied jumble of clumsy touching and groping in a matter of moments, a few excited giggles slipping past your lips and knocking into his.
“Fuck, baby— So good to me, y’ always are.”
“Luke, please—”
You give him the signal and soon enough, you’re being shimmied out of your panties beneath your skirt.
Luke makes a sly face, taking your lacy intimates and shoving them in his back pocket. “For safekeeping,” he whispers playfully, before pulling you back into that hungry kiss.
His weathered palms traversed beneath your shirt and slid up and down your sides; poor Luke couldn’t decide where to place his hands. But regardless of his indecision, his touch felt transcendent.
“Gonna fuck you so good, pretty girl,” Luke mumbles into your ear, making sure to nip at the nape of your neck and a bit of your earlobe to get your blood pumping.
You could already tell that you were wet. Soaked, even, just by the hurriedness of this all. The rush you were experiencing was feeding into that leftover adrenaline from the show. You truly had zero complaints.
“Oh my God,” you whine, as Luke takes his time to mark up your neck, “Please, baby? C-can’t wait much longer.”
“That’s my girl,” he retorts, taking his hands and cupping your cheeks delicately as your body language begged for the feeling of him, “So polite, like always.”
Your hands had made their way to unzip his jeans and caress his bulge above the briefs that held it, whining softly as your fingertips graze a wet mark left on the fabric.
“Mhhh, messy,” you bumble, slowly tracing your thumb across the spot of precum.
Luke hisses in pleasure, a smile forming at the end of his cry, “See what you do to me? I’m a fuckin’ mess for you, pretty.”
You couldn’t find it in you to respond coherently as he guided your hand to slip his cock from out of his underwear. On instinct, you wrap your fingers around his length and slowly begin to pump him between your bodies.
A moan rumbled through Luke’s chest and suddenly the wetness pooling between your legs was becoming an issue. Each touch of his dick and caress of his hipbone was becoming more and more despairing. Like your essence was simply falling apart beneath his fingertips.
“Gotta get my girl up here,” Luke grunts, moving his hands towards the backs of your thighs and gripping them tightly, “Jump.”
You do as you’re told, jumping up and locking your ankles around Luke’s back as he feeds into your desires with more love bites and bruises. Your back was flush against the wall, with just the right amount of space for Luke to line his cock up with your entrance.
“Look at you. My little rockstar. Put on one show and now you’re lookin’ for an encore?” He jokes with you tenderly, yet the bigger half of you was more desperate for him than anything else.
“What can I say, baby? I’m a crowd-pleaser.”
You steal his reply with a rough kiss, hoping to distract him enough not to let him notice the rips and tears that your nails were dragging along his silk shirt.
He pulls away from you, staring deeply into your eyes like the two of you were the last two living humans on Earth. Your boyfriend definitely had an affinity for eye contact, no matter the scenario.
The notch in his brow deepens as he adjusts your body, prodding your entrance with his tip and drawing a soft whine from your throat.
“So wet for me baby— just couldn’t wait to soak my cock, hm?”
Luke also had a thing for asking you questions, the call and response deeply feeding into his bedroom-dominant persona.
“Yes, Lu— fuckin’ soaked for you. Played the whole show thinking about you fucking me...”
“Is that right?” he quizzes, leaning in quickly to nip at your bottom lip and pull it away from your teeth.
You hiss at the sharp pain, tasting a bit of metallic on your tongue, “Mhm. Honest. Had to give you my all out there. Just like I promised I would.”
“God, you are too good to me, gorgeous,” he tosses his head back in bliss, still blindly teasing your slit, “Bet my girl’s looking for a reward for all this good behavior…”
Right as your lips part to reply, Luke is ramming his cock up into you. You gasp in shock, yet slowly mold around the feeling of him as he roughly bucks his hips against you.
“Holy fuck, Lu— oh my God!”
His teeth sink down into his bottom lip as he begins his jagged rhythm of snapping his hips, his eyes staying planted firmly into yours. It takes everything inside of you to keep your eyes on him; for you know that the last thing he wanted was for you to look away.
“Feels s’fuckin’ good, baby,” Luke groans, holding your hips tight enough to leave bruises in place of his fingertips.
The feeling of his cock pushing in deeper with each stroke had your body doubling over, the air in your lungs being knocked out in time with the tempo that he claimed.
Your body was pushing it’s limits, each direct hit to your g-spot forced low mewls from your chest and serenaded Luke’s desires. He was loving the adrenaline mixed with the overwhelming craving that he had been fighting all night long.
Your breathing in sync was like a symphony, music to Luke’s ears— he couldn’t fathom the thought of saving you for later until he was quite literally forced to. But with each buck of his hips and every single moan spilling from your lips, he soon realized that maybe the wait was worth it.
“Gonna’ cum soon, baby— keep those eyes on me, okay?”
You bite back frantic tears that pricked your eyes, nodding sheepishly as you let him fuck up into you. The only sound you were capable of making was a weak whimper, but Luke didn’t mind.
“Cum on my cock, baby… Fuckin’ soak me—”
“You look so beautiful. My fuckin’ girl.”
All of these silky-sweet nothings were hitting you like a freight train. You were nodding in time with the movement of his hips, your tits bouncing between your bodies and your eyes threatening to flutter closed at just how good he felt filling you up.
You moan again, as does he, and you’re able to read his expression before he’s even uttering the words:
“Gonna’ fill you up, gorgeous. Cum for me, baby?”
54 notes · View notes
morallyinept · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
A full character analysis on SILVA from the film STRANGE WAY OF LIFE/EXTRAÑA FORMA DI VIDA
I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to learn more about the character. 🖤
FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED
Tumblr media Tumblr media
FULL CHARACTER STUDY:
Basic Details:
Full Name: Silva (full name unconfirmed)
Nickname(s): None mentioned
Appears in: Strange Way Of Life, 2023 (first appearance on screen riding in distance at approx. 00:41 and face shot seen at approx. 01:04)
Age (if known): Unconfirmed, suspected mid-forties, to even possibly early fifties based solely on the looks of the character.
Sexuality: Bisexual/Homosexual - it's never confirmed in the film which sexuality Silva actually is, although it's widely presumed the latter
Nationality: Hispanic, but unconfirmed from where specifically. 'Silva' is a Portuguese and Galician surname widespread in the Portuguese-speaking countries, such as Brazil. However the name is also commonly known in Mexico too. Silva speaks with a Spanish dialect. It is presumed he is living somewhere in the Wild West of America, possibly close to the border of Mexico, as he convinces his son to leave and ride across the border to Mexico which appears not to be too far away if Joe is simply riding on horseback.
Family: 1 Son, Joe
Spouse/Partner: No mention of a partner
Relationship Status: Presumed single as no mention or evidence of a current partner
Current Living Status: Alive
Languages Spoken: English, Spanish
Education: Unknown/not confirmed, however presumed educated based on intelligence and speech, however schooling in the Wild West was not common before the 1880s, so most were schooled in the basics at home
Occupation:
Job Role/Title: Previous gunslinger/gun for hire, currently a horse rancher
Special Skill(s): Tending to horses on the ranch, adept with firearms
Notable Colleague(s): Sheriff Jake
Distinguishing Features:
Tattoo(s): None
Piercings: None
Scar(s): None notable
Other Markings: None notable
Prominent Feature(s): Greying hair and facial scruff, moustache
Injuries: Silva mentions he has a bad back from tending to the horses all day on the ranch
Eye Colour: Brown
Hair Colour: Brown/greying
Personality:
Traits: Ruthless, romantic, devious
The film is titled after a Portuguese fado song by Amália Rodrigues. The song was released in 1959 and sung by Brazilian singer Caetano Veloso, and lip-synced by actor Manu Ríos playing a singer in the opening scenes, as Silva arrives in town to see Jake.
Silva is a rancher. A rancher is someone who owns or manages a large farm, especially one used for raising cattle, horses, or sheep.
Silva mentions he was previously a 'hired gun' back in the day with Jake, which means he was potentially a hit man or hired killer.
Silva is adept with the use of guns and a skilled shot. He deliberately misses shooting Jake in any vital organs.
Jake accuses Silva of only travelling to see him to get information out of him and to convince him to leave his son alone, rather than see him specifically. However, Silva mentions he wanted to see Jake sooner, but wasn't sure what reaction he would get after all the time that's passed. The conversation between them, and subsequently what Silva says to his son, indicates that Jake was right.
Being homosexual in the Wild West was largely unspoken and frowned upon. Same-sex relationships/encounters, were often kept private between the consenting individuals through fear of persecution and arrest, despite them being fairly common. Silva references this when he states, "You gonna kill me while I’m half undressed? How will you explain that? A dead man in your bed still smelling of cum!"
Hispanic decor decorates Silva's home in bright colours like fuchsia, yellow, orange and green, and he also has a statue of what appears to be of Our Lady Of Guadalupe, indicating he possibly has faith.
The costumes were provided by fashion house St Laurent for the characters in the movie, with custom pieces made specially, such as Silva's green jacket.
Fashion/Outfits:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Outfit 1 - (Opening scene & majority of the film) Green jacket, red plaid shirt, orange/umber undershirt, dark pin striped looking pants, black belt, brown leather holster belt. Black neckerchief, brown hat, dark heeled cowboy boots
Outfit 2 - (Waking up in Jake's bed scene) Orange/umber under shirt
Outfit 3 - (Tending to Jake & final scene) Yellow/brown plaid shirt, dark pin striped looking pants, black belt, black neckerchief
Accessories: Brown leather gun holster belt that carries spare bullets and his pistol, red neckerchief (which Jake kept), multicoloured striped blanket, possibly a woollen serape, which he carried rolled up on his horse and used in the desert when resting
Weapons Used:
Weapon(s): (Exact weapons pictured below)
Silva has a six shooter pistol, worn on the right side of his body in it's holster, typical for the time period in the Wild West. His exact model is unknown, but from images seen, it appears it could be a Colt Frontier Single Action Revolver.
Silva also owns a rifle, kept in a chest in his home. The exact model is unknown.
Tumblr media
Modes of Transport:
Vehicle(s):
Silva has a horse he rides across the desert to see Jake, which appears to be a dark brown stallion, and he has a whole ranch of horses that he tends to.
Dialogue:
🗨 See Silva's full dialogue from the film, including deleted scenes.
Further Character Links (if any):
Strange Way Of Life - A Review by Jett NYFF Interview with Pedro Almodóvar
Tumblr media
FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED
79 notes · View notes
isa-ah · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Last Push for Immigration
We're slated to leave at the end of November, and for everything we've managed to save, it's all going to travel expenses. We need help putting a down payment on somewhere to stay!
$455 / $3000
Kofi • Commissions • $ruckusthekid
I'm more than happy to work for it, and any help is appreciated. We're applying for asylum (where might be changing, Portugal resources are getting really slim), & our goal is to help other trans kids out of the country once we've figured out the process.
Thank you so so much for the support we've already received, and I'm honestly really excited to show y'all how it all goes down.
See ya soon!
More information about us, if you want it:
As a trans couple, my husband and I are really feeling the pressure to get out of the United States. We thought we could skim by where we are until we could leave, but he's been goaded by local police as they humiliated and condescended him in a back room for being trans, and I had my ID confiscated for saying male, and upon trying to get it reissued as female, I was kept after hours in the state trooper's office and surrounded by all residing cops left in the station as it was processed. We don't feel safe, if you can believe it.
We've flown by the seat of our pants a lot. We've been kicked out, homeless, manipulated and hurt by a lot of fucking people over the last five years, and we've always managed to make it work. I assume the same can be said for this; even if we don't get the money we need before we leave, we'll figure something out when we get there.
It's not ideal, having to do things like this, but we're in the middle of nowhere, in a food desert, and I have a highly restrictive diet that's really difficult to afford as it is. We've been trying to save for over a year now and only scraped up $2k with help. It's on par, if not over $1k each for us to fly, with our baggage & cats.
I'm doing my fuckin best and I'm willing to work for anything we make here, I'm just floundering to support us and get this together too with how absolutely shithole rancid the economy is.
No one owes us anything, there's no pressure to donate or commission me, but it would be an enormous pressure off of us to get this put together before we leave. Please.
158 notes · View notes
gummydummy19 · 8 months
Note
Hi Gummy😌❤️
since we're talking about kinktober...
Tumblr media
How about Sherlock(Henry version) and semi-public sex (or something like voyeurism?)
I'm imagining Sherlock and reader (friends or lovers) are on a case when they are close to being discovered their true identities when Sherlock suggested that they could "make love" to fool the guards in (let's say) this brothel.
they could be faking it (till the vibe becomes too strong) or they are truly in love so they went at it anyway😋
Feel free to change or add to my lil thot😌❤️
OH GOODIE!! I love getting requests and I love love LOVE this idea!
Kinktober day 1: semi-public (Sherlock Holmes x F reader)
Moan
A/N: I must admit I don't really like voyeurism but I really loved the request so I hope I still did it justice <3
Content Warnings: smut, friends to lovers, "let them hear" trope, banter, giggles, fluff, swearing
Tumblr media
You didn't have any family. The girls at the factory were your sisters, you all knew each other through and through. So when your friend Rosaly went missing, you knew she counted on you to discover the truth.
The entire country knew of Sherlock Holmes and his incredible detective skills. According to the papers, there wasn't a case he couldn't solve. So you scraped together nearly all your savings and traveled across the country to see him. Sadly, when you arrived at his office on a chilly autumn afternoon you were disappointed to find it empty. With nowhere else to go, you decided to wait it out.
Sherlock Holmes had always been quite the gentleman... and a handsome one at that. He arrived at his office somewhere in the afternoon. He wasn't usually this late, but he was stuck on a case and had indulged himself in one too many drinks the night before, leaving his body tired and his head hurting. However, his headache was quickly forgotten when he noticed a shivering young woman on his office's doorstep.
"Excuse me miss, can I help you?" he asked politely.
"O-oh...I'm s-so sorry...I'm...I n-need..." you shivered
Sherlock took off his big, long coat, wrapping it over your shoulders as he helped you up. "Hush now, little one. Let's get you inside first, shall we?"
Once inside he quickly lit a fire and offered you a hot cup of tea while you told him everything. He agreed to take up the case and after enduring a lot of your begging he agreed to let you join him too.
And thus your adventure with Sherlock began. He offered you the sofa in his office to sleep on and you kept the space tidy and clean for him in return. Surprisingly he found you worked quite well together. You were fearless and smart and on top of that, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.
After nearly two weeks of working together, you were finally close to finding out where Rosaly was, through clues that she had left for you.
The puzzle pieces were finally falling together, all you needed was one more piece of information, and according to your last clue, this was where it was supposed to be.
"A brothel?!" You observed as you looked up at the tall building.
There were pink and red lights flowing through the half-closed windows you didn't dare to stare at for too long.
"This is the only address I can find according to those numbers. It has to be here." Sherlock stated.
You took a deep breath. Time to put on your big girl pants.
"Alright. Let's go then," you said, already starting to marsh forward
"Hold on there, little one." he pulled you back by your hips, "You are not coming in there with me."
"What would you have me do then? Stand out here in the dark all by myself?"
You had a good point.
"Fine, but you will do as I say. Understood?"
You rolled your eyes but agreed anyway, joining him as he made his way through the door.
"I need a room," he stated firmly.
"Mister Holmes! Of course!" The lady greeted him with a smile, "I'm sure you don't need an empty room, right?" She joked, "Shall I send up Elisabeth-"
"That won't be necessary." He interrupted quickly. You were sure he was hoping you hadn't caught that, but unfortunately, there was already a jealous twinge spreading in your stomach.
"I brought my own. Just the room will do," he added and then the lady looked you up and down, making a heat surge up your cheeks.
"Sure thing," she replied, looking through her keys, "Only the best for the country's best detective."
She shot you both a wink as she handed him the key and Sherlock quickly took your hand and led you upstairs.
"Go to the room and lock it. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"What are you gonna do?" you asked, a bit worried
"I'll be right back." He repeated before closing the door behind him.
You did as he asked and locked it before silently taking a seat on the bed.
You looked around the room as you nervously toyed with your fingers. The sheets were soft and fluffy. You couldn't help but wonder which secrets they held. Which forbidden sights they had-
*knock knock knock*
You startled for a second until you heard his voice say "Open up..."
You rushed to the door and quickly let him in, locking it again behind him.
"I know where she is."
"What?" you asked, your brain still foggy for everything that was going on
"Rosaly. I know where she is. I know where to find her. We can be with her first thing tomorrow." he spoke again
"I..." You didn't know what to say, so you just did what felt right. You lunged forward and hugged him, whispering a couple "thank you's" as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
He was about to say something when a loud knock startled you yet again.
"Everything okay in there?" a male voice yelled.
You looked at him in panic. They must have seen him wander around the place.
"Moan." He said
"W-what?"
"Moan," he repeated
"W-wha...like...like we're m-making love?"
"No, little one" he grinned, "like we're fucking."
You didn't have time to think as Sherlock Swirled you around and pushed you against the wall with a loud thud.
"Moan, NOW!" he growled.
"Ah!" you moaned, earning a grunt from him in response.
"Do it again, louder," he whispered.
"OH!" you moaned again, louder, just like he asked.
"There you go," he praised, "good girl." There was a grin plastered on his face that made you blush.
Two can play this game, you thought.
You pushed him backward making him fall on the bed, earning another loud groan from him as you crawled on his lap.
"Oh, Sherlock!" You moaned passionately, as your eyes fell shut and your hands found his chest "OH yes YES." you couldn't help but giggle at your own theatrics, making your body bounce a little.
You weren't paying enough attention to his face to notice that the grin had melted away the second you straddled him.
"Oh yeah right THERE, please!!!" you tried to contain your laughter when suddenly Sherlock flipped the both of you over making you gasp.
"YEAH? Feels that good?" his voice was lower now and you could feel his bulge press right between your thighs.
Suddenly...it wasn't so funny anymore.
"Cat got your tongue?" He whispered, leaning down to kiss your cheek.
"I...I don't...I didn't..."
"Is it me that turned you into a stuttering mess or the fact that you're moaning for an audience?" He teased, pressing kisses down your neck to the swells of your breasts, currently threatening to spill out of your dress as your chest heaved underneath him.
"Sh-Sherlock..." you moaned, in earnest this time.
"Shush Sherlock? Do you wish to silence me, little one?" he grinned devilishly as his hands wandered under your dress, caressing your thighs.
"Oh....please..." you whimpered
"Now now, little one, I know you can be louder than that." he chuckled, fingers toying with your undergarments.
"I n-need..."
"Need what? Huh?" he ripped the fabrics in his way until he finally found what he was looking for. "Ah yes, needy you are indeed, as I have never felt a pussy quite as wet as this one..." he teased
"Come on, little one, tell me what you need."
"you..."
"louder..." he whispered lowly in your ear, teeth grazing the shell of it as he left little nibbles all over.
"you...YOU!"
"That's it!" he groaned as he lowered his pants, teasing your wet opening with the sticky tip of his cock.
"Tell them who's making you feel this good!"
"S-stop..."
"Want me to stop?" he smirked, knowing full well your sentence wasn't finished
'N-no! No, please just...AH FUCK!" you screamed as he entered you bare.
"There you go! Scream like the wanton little harlot you are!"
You didn't know if those words were meant just for you or for the men outside but in the moment you didn't care, as it made you squeeze his hard cock even harder.
"Sherlock! Please...please..." You didn't know what you were begging for, seeing as he was already seethed deep inside you, but somehow begging was all you could.
"Stop teasing..." you managed to get out. He loved how sweet and helpless you looked under him. How you managed to look so kind and innocent while he was balls deep inside you remained a mystery to him. Oh sweetheart..., he thought to himself
"....feels so fucking good..." he groaned, dropping down closer to you as he started to gently pump himself in and out of you.
"O-oh..." you moaned, tangling your fingers in his dark curls.
His hand hadn't left your face, while his other hand went on a mission to find the place where you were currently connected, somewhere between all those layers of fabric.
He tilted his hips, angling them to hit a spot inside you that made your eyes flutter, yet when his fingers finally reached their destination they shot open again.
"SHERLOCK!"
"That's right, princess. Let them know who's fucking you this good!"
He continued to pound into you, but despite his rough words, his actions were surprisingly gentle.
"M'gonna...gonna..." you keened, feeling yourself climb higher and higher.
"What do you need, little one?" he groaned, clearly getting very close to the edge as well.
"Little harder...just a little..." you whined, quietly.
Sherlock obeyed, gently building up his thrusts until he was smacking into your pussy perfectly.
"That's right! Need it harder, huh?" he yelled out loudly again.
"YES YES HARDER" you played along before whispering "Kiss me, please..." Making not only his cock but also his heart swell.
He immediately pressed his lips down onto yours, swallowing your moans while his fingers kept strumming your sensitive pearl.
You came hard around his cock and kept pounding into your clenching pussy perfectly. Your left hand pulled at his hair while your other hand clawed at his back so hard his shirt ripped a little.
Your orgasm triggered his, and he let out a loud groan as he shuttered above you while spilling his hot seed deep inside your womb.
You both lay there, a little out of breath. Sherlock had his head buried in the crook of your neck, where started pressing gentle kisses while you played with his hair and traced invisible lines on his back.
That night you and Sherlock stumbled down the stairs of that brothel equally rosy-cheeked. You in your ripped-up dress, he in his torn shirt. You walked out hand in hand, two dozen pairs of eyes burning holes in the back of your skulls, but neither of you cared, for the passion glowing hot in your chests would outburn them all.
A/N: IM SORRY IF THIS WAS SHIT IM ON MY PERIOD AND IM JUST A BIG SAP IM SORRY I APOLOGIZE IM JUST A GIRL YOUR HONOR.
taglist;
@metalbuckaroo
@princessayveke
@montsepliego
@scxrletrecsmarvel
@hopelesslyrogers
@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer
@tfandtws
@vicmc624
@ahahafudge
@enchantedbarnes
@wickedravyn
@pono-pura-vida
@amayaraestyles
@matchat3a
@fictional-hooman
@sebastianexplicit
@peaches1958
@avengersfan25
@jamneuromain
@tryingtoliveonmywishes
@mrsevans90
@daybreak96
@tiredqueen73
@fallingforunrealisticromance
@identity2212
@randomweirdoss
@ragamuffin285
@juliaorpll78
@geralts-yenn
@imjusthereforliam
@bangtanstoeart
@squeezyvalkyrie
@enchantedbytomandhenry
@superduckmilkshake
@kingliam2019
@bascmve01
@missgaygurl
@foxyjwls007
137 notes · View notes
pepsiboyy · 3 months
Text
starboy part 2
Tumblr media
P1 P2
pairing: y/n x chris sturniolo
summary: y/n, born and raised in los angeles, moves across the country to boston. when she feels like she has nobody, she makes some new friends at her new job. she grows particularly close with the sturniolo triplets, where she finds a lot in common with one of them.
warnings: just cursing
lowercase intentional!!!
author's note: hi guys! PLEASE send feedback on the story so far! part one is already doing so much better than i thought it would?? yippee???
Tumblr media
3:37pm.
honestly, the travel from moving caused me to lose a lot of sleep. and of course, last night was the night it decided to catch up to me. expecting my body to naturally wake up somewhere between ten and noon, i didn't set an alarm and here i was, quickly changing to make it to work within the next twenty-three minutes.
i slid on my pants and stumbled as i buttoned them, putting on a belt and cursing under my breath as i struggled. with a quick glance in the mirror, i sighed and looked through a few bags to find my last essentials. some earrings, my chapstick, my earbuds and sunglasses. i slid on some socks and some dunks, quickly springing to my feet and booking it out of the door.
"are you just getting out of bed?" my mom called from the living room, where she was sipping a coffee. i scoffed and nodded, reaching into the refrigerator and grabbing a water bottle. "yeah, i think the lack of sleep finally caught up to me," i mumbled, plugging in my earbuds and sticking one into my ear. "i need to go now, though. love you mom, i'll be home later." i smiled and waved, quickly heading to the door as i placed my other earbud in my ear.
-
i walked through the doors at work at 4:02, a deep sigh leaving me. i ran to the back and quickly clocked in before grasping my chest to catch my breath. the last thirty to forty-five minutes really woke me up yet tired me out at the same time.
"are you coming or what?" i heard a voice call from the customer service desk, causing me to whip my head over. "ah, yeah-! i'm sorry," i breathed, looking towards the doorway. i slipped out my earbuds and shoved them into my pocket before quickly making my way out while putting my nametag in its place.
i helped kill the line down, and when a moment finally came, i looked to the girl who had spoken to me when i clocked in. "i'm so sorry for being late. genuinely, i think the tiredness from the travel caught up to me and i woke up late." i chuckled and held out my hand. "my name's y/n, it's nice to meet you."
the girl looked down at my hand. as i was talking to her, she looked me up and down while re-applying her lip gloss. she's really pretty, i thought to myself at first. she had stick straight blonde hair and deep brown eyes.
"maeve." she stated quickly before rubbing in her lip gloss with her lips and turning away from me. i looked at her, a bit puzzled as she began collecting her things.
she was wearing a skirt. a very short one, at that. was that allowed? i remembered being told to only wear pants and none with holes. i was ripped away from my thoughts as she began walking towards the back. was she clocking out. "wait- are you.. are you already done for the day?" i stuttered, blinking a few times as i followed her and stopped at the doorway.
"i mean i'm out at 8, but i have somewhere to be," she told me, and i tilted my head. "you can do that?" i questioned, confusion plastered across my face.
"i can. you can't," she stated as she pressed the clock out button while staring directly at me. she then carefully shoved past me and began to leave.
"but i don't even know how to close," i started, but it was no use. she was already walking away and swaying her hips in a way that made my face crinkle. "excuse me?" i whipped my head over to the counter and smiled softly at the customer standing there. "sorry for the wait, how can i help you?"
-
the last two hours truly went by way too fast, but my body was beginning to ache. i had asked for help countless times, and i felt terrible. what was i supposed to do? this was literally my second day on the job and i was left alone at customer service. where people as questions and expect an answer. i had maybe three answers in total today, and a lot more angry people.
i finally managed to get somebody to cover me as i made my way into the breakroom, pushing into the door and letting out a deep sigh. i looked up and was greeted with a familiar boy and a pepsi can attached to his lips, bottom of the car facing upward as he chugged.
"hey," i breathed, and he jumped so hard that it almost scared me. "shit, did i scare you? sorry." i chuckled and moved to sit beside him, making sure to leave a chair between us for respect.
chris set down the pepsi and grasped his chest, chuckling between each deep breath he took. "jesus. hi, y/n." he smiled and carefully turned to face me more. "how's it going?"
i shrugged. "i mean... it's going? i'm alone at customer service on my second day. how good can it get?" i questioned, rubbing the back of my head before looking down in my lap.
"yeah, i hear you nonstop asking for help over the walkie," he joked, and i felt my face light up. "listen, i'm trying okay?" i smiled softly and he quickly waved his hands. "no worries. there's a reason i just do inventory. you're a trooper out there." he mumbled, and i smiled to myself. that made me feel a little better, knowing i was doing something that was harder for others. and getting through it, at that.
we sat in silence for a few moments and i scrolled through my phone. putting in my earbuds as i nodded my head softly to the music. i closed my eyes softly as i allowed the music to sink into my mind, feeling myself relax.
"whbhjf lisdfnnk tgjo?"
i ripped out my earbud and stared at chris. "sorry?"
"whatcha listenin' to?" he repeated, and i chuckled.
"ah, sorry. i literally had no idea what you said." i hummed and glanced at my phone. "can u feel your face by landon cube and lil gnar." i smiled softly, and his eyes lit up. "i love that song," he replied, visibly relaxing a bit more.
i smiled softly at him as he sat beside me. i blinked a few times before moving to sit in the chair closer to him, and offered him an earbud after careful investigation to make sure it was clean.
chris smiled warmly at me and we listened to music together until our break slowly came to an end.
-
i deep sigh left me as i looked over customer service. there was stuff everywhere, and i had no idea where any of it went. i felt a wave of stress run over me as i looked at the time. we closed three minutes ago, and i still had to take out the trash, wipe the counters, and go through returns and papers all over the counters and the floor.
"need some help?" i heard chris from the other side of the counter, and i smiled softly. "ah, i should be... fine..." my voice audibly sank lower with each word. chris shook his head and hopped the counter to come to the other side.
that may or may not have been the most attractive thing i had ever seen.
"i'll help you. i may not work up here but i know where things go." he mumbled and began picking some things up, making me smile softly at him. i wiped down the counters and took out the trash while chris organized the returned items and loose objects in the area.
with his help, we finished within fifteen minutes. "i really appreciate you," i breathed and smiled softly. "no problem," he started, before he paused and blinked a few times, looking over to me. "wait.. don't tell me."
i looked at him with a bit of confusion before fully turning my body to face him.
"did you walk to work again?"
i bit my lip and chuckled. "yeah, i don't really.. have any other way here." she smiled.
chris smiled and let out a soft laugh. "i can walk you home if you want?" he offered, and i blinked a few times.
"no no, please don't waste your time." i chuckled and looked down, rubbing the back of my head.
"i wouldn't be. you live right there, and i can't drive, so... i have to walk too." he chuckled, and i smiled with him.
after clocking out and collecting our things, chris and i began to walk. i held a hand against my stomach as i winced slightly. i was starving.
"you okay?"
chris's voice pulled me away from my thoughts as i turned to him and smiled shyly. "i um... haven't really eaten yet today." chris's face dropped. "y/n! we need to get food now." he scoffed as he blinked at me a few times, very clearly shocked.
"no no, please, i can get something at home. i really don't want to waste your time." i bit my lip as i looked up at him, but he shook his head fairly quickly. "y/n, i'm hungry too, so no, you aren't wasting my time... in fact, that won't ever be the case," he reassured, and i blushed slightly. "right," i nodded.
"there's a mcdonald's across the street. wanna get that?" he offered, and i smiled softly. "sure."
as we walked, he took out his airpods and handed me one of them. i smiled to myself as the music kicked on. way back by travis scott.
we reached the mcdonald's and he carefully opened the door for me. i entered and chuckled softly. "thank you, mister gentleman?" i joked, and he smirked. "don't even start," he replied, causing me to smile to myself.
"what do you get here?" i asked, looking at the large screen on the kiosk in front of us. "umm.. i don't know, it usually changes depending on what they got going on. can't fail with a ten piece though, right?" he asked, reaching over to press the button on the screen to add a ten piece chicken nugget to the order.
i smiled and nodded, pressing the same button. chris added a large fry and two medium drinks before taking out his phone and pressing it to the pinpad, apple pay visible on his phone screen. i blinked a few times.
"chris- i can pay for myself," i started, looking at him with a crinkled face. i absolutely hated when people paid for me.
"don't worry about it, i dragged you out to mcdonald's after insisting that i was hungry too," he smiled at me as his phone beeped, indicating the payment went through. i scoffed slightly. i guess he was right. "and you just got the job, so no paycheck yet," he added with a sheepish smile. i lightly smacked his arm. "shut up," i chuckled, and he laughed as we went to sit at a table and wait for our food.
my mind wandered as we sat and listened to the music playing lowly in each airpod. but then my mind landed on one thought.
"hey, you know maeve?" i questioned, blinking a few times.
chris seemed to throw his eyebrows up. "maeve, like at our work maeve?" he questioned, and i rolled my eyes. "no, the other one."
"don't be like that," he quickly responded with a soft chuckle, and i smiled. "yeah, that one."
"yeah, what about her?" he asked, and i bit my lip. "schedule said she was supposed to leave at 8, but she left at 4, right when i came in. i had no idea what i was doing for my entire shift." i mumbled and looked down. chris nodded and scoffed. "weird. she knows she shouldn't be leaving like that. pretty sure she got a warning for that a few weeks ago." he mumbled, and i nodded.
"she was kind of rude to me too, so.. i don't know, i'm probably overthinking it. sorry. i don't want to cause drama in the workplace. just wondering if she's normally like that." i mumbled, looking at my hands on the table.
chris nodded, listening closely to me. "i haven't seen her act that way before. i mean, maybe she's just upset that there's a new girl that's really pretty and she's jealous?" he stated nonchalantly, and i blushed darkly as i looked away with a soft smile.
it seemed to kick in, what chris had just said, because his face grew pink. "i mean- not that she's not pretty, even though you're prettier... but i mean not in a weird way," he rambled, and i chuckled, quickly causing him to hush.
"i appreciate it, chris." i smiled warmly, my face still red. chris chuckled shyly as he looked away.
"order 272!"
we both whipped our heads over, and before i knew it, chris was already grabbing the bag and thanking the lady who looked like she loved her job.
"ten piece for you, and ten piece for me," he stated as he pulled the items out with a bright smile. he spread out some napkins on the table and poured out the large fry before smiling proudly. "help yourself."
i chuckled. "wow, thank you," i responded and hummed, beginning to eat. i gasped as i remembered our drinks and stood up. "what do you want to drink?" i asked, standing up. he hummed softly, seemingly in deep thought.
"they only have coke products, so... i guess dr pepper will make do."
i smiled to myself. that was what i was going to get, too.
i nodded and made my way to the drink machine, deep in thought.
i had known this guy for two days and he was already making me feel nervous around him, and i didn't know how to feel about it. i swallowed and placed lids on the drinks, biting my lip. did i like chris? okay, let's be realistic. yes. i did like chris. we listened to the same music, he was cute, and a really nice guy... i guess i would see how things play out between us.
by the time i finished my thought, i was setting the drinks against the table and sitting back down across from him. "thanks, y/n/n." he mumbled, and i blinked a few times.
he looked at me mid-bite, blinking a few times. "sorry, is it okay if i call you that? i should have asked." he mumbled. he didn't seem to think of it as a big deal, but i blushed softly. i thought it was cute that he came up with a nickname for me so quickly. "i don't mind at all," i replied, smiling gently. he hummed in content.
the rest of the night was simple enough. we finished our food, talked about music, and he walked me home. it was chilly out, but i lived so close that i didn't bring anything up. when we reached my house, i sighed and turned to him. "thanks for tonight, the food and stuff.. i had a great time," i mumbled, and he smiled.
"me too. we should hang out more often. i like our vibe?" he said, a hint of confusion at the end as if he were trying not to come off as weird. i scoffed and nodded. "yeah, i agree." i hummed and began to step back towards my house. "you work tomorrow?" i asked, and he shook his head. "i'm off tomorrow. but i'd like to chat still?"
i stopped in my tracks and cocked my head to the side. "can i get your number?" he asked, and i blushed slightly. "oh, right, yeah sure..!" i stumbled over my words, and he handed me his phone.
i couldn't believe i was putting my number in this guy's phone. but i was happy i was. i smiled like a dork as i took his phone in my hands and began typing in my number. after finishing, i typed in my name with a little star emoji before handing it back to him. he furrowed his eyebrows.
"why a star?" he questioned, and i scoffed. "you know... star market?"
"i don't want to know you just for being my coworker," he muttered and smiled softly, blinking a few times. "but i'll leave it. it fits next to your name, anyways." he smiled as me and hummed. "okay, get some sleep. do you work tomorrow?" he asked, and i shook my head. "no, i'm off tomorrow."
chris smiled brightly. "same. i think nick works, but matt and i plan to hang out if you wanna tag along? i can text you about it later." he smiled, and i smiled back. "i don't want to intrude on your brother time. let me know." i replied, and he chuckled and nodded.
"text me when you get home?" i asked, and he nodded, smiling warmly at me. "i will." he hummed and stepped back. "have a good night!"
i waved and began to walk up to my porch and into my house, shutting the door.
i sighed deeply and looked up to see my mom staring at me. "who was that?"
i practically choked. "mom, why are you up?" i breathed, gripping my crewneck. "who was that? he's cute." she mumbled and i blushed darkly. "mom, he's just a guy from my work," i defended, trying to walk past her to the kitchen, but she followed quickly behind me.
"just a guy from work? y/n, you got off at midnight and it's almost two.." she smiled cheekily at me.
"he just.. offered to walk me home and we got food on the way." i mumbled, my cheeks pink. "his name's chris. he's a triplet." i smiled softly.
she throw her eyebrows up and hummed. "a triplet, huh? you don't see that every day."
"that's what i said!" i scoffed and hummed as i took a sip of my dr pepper. "anyways, i'm exhausted. i'm gonna try and get some sleep." i mumbled, and hugged my mom softly. "sleep well," she breathed, and i nodded before heading up the stairs.
-
after getting cozy and laying in bed, i made sure to set an alarm for 11am. no way i was sleeping through the day again. my phone buzzed and i turned to check it before smiling at the unknown number. i quickly changed his contact name before reading the message.
from: chris⭐ got home 🫡
i smiled softly to myself and reacted to the message with a heart, before beginning to type.
from: me glad to hear you didn't get kidnapped. going to bed?
i hummed and laid in bed, staring at my phone as it lit up my face in the darkness of my room.
from: chris⭐ nah, gonna run up some fortnite w matt
i scoffed, but that sounded about right.
from: me get that dub
i smiled softly as he reacted with a heart, and he began typing again.
from: chris⭐ i will bc u said that from: chris⭐ sleep well
i bit my lip. no way i was smiling like a little kid who just got what they had always wanted for christmas. i reacted with a heart and shut off my phone, setting it on the table beside my bed.
what have i gotten myself into?
Tumblr media
HEYYYY heyyyy heyyyy ........ I HOPE THIS IS AWESOME SAUCE????? DEVELOPMENT FOR CHRIS AND Y/N!>"?>k@juof anyways i love u guysssss let me know what u think so far and what u guys want from this series !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! love u all
64 notes · View notes
seventeenpins · 11 months
Note
could I request a fic with these:
“is that how you usually get out of these situations? by fucking your way out of them?”
“let me stay like this in you for a little bit.”
forget-me-not
hello yessssssss love these 🤤
3.3k, joel miller x reader, no use of y/n
warning(s): angst, sex, 18+ themes, alcohol, qz!joel
*****
you wouldn't say you'd had high hopes for the night, but you definitely didn’t expect it to go quite like this. 
in a dingy booth of a boston qz speakeasy, you nursed a glass of whiskey. it was the real stuff, a true indulgence you could rarely justify, but you had a few extra ration cards this week and needed to blow off some steam.
you couldn’t get your mind off of joel miller. 
he’d saved your ass on countless occasions, and he exuded an intensity that you couldn’t get enough of. he was guarded but caring. chastised you when you slipped up and told you he wouldn’t be there to help if you were in trouble, but contradicted himself time and time again, always showing up somehow just when you needed him.
and now he was leaving.
when he told you, he'd said something about finding his little brother, somewhere out in wyoming. you didn't get much more than that but you're not sure if it's cos he didn't tell you, or if it's that when he told you, you could suddenly hear your pulse in your ears and your stomach plummeted and it felt as though ice water filled your veins and you could see his mouth was moving but you didn't hear anything else.
you'd lived down the hall from Joel for nearly four years, and you'd been sleeping together for two. the night it started, joel had gotten into a fight with some guy who’d managed to slash him real good on his right side. he'd seen light coming from below your door, and asked for your help. 
you'd stitched him up cleanly, a neat enough job that even joel seemed impressed. the air was charged and electric between the two of you. feeling bold, you asked if he'd like to stay--he'd clearly had a horrendous day and you'd like to make him feel better.
sometimes it’s hard and rough and feral, other times passionate and intense. you weren’t a couple, weren’t exclusive. but you both took what you could for as long as you could, because that was truly enough.
you remember he'd always talked about his brother, how they stayed in touch over radio. the past few weeks, joel's been more stressed, and it's been nearly a month since he'd heard from tommy.
you’d told him that you wished him the best of luck finding his brother, but you'd made it clear a long time ago that you weren’t planting roots somewhere new; you’ve travelled enough and lost enough for a lifetime, and told him from the very beginning that you weren’t picking up and relocating ever again. sure, a qz is a qz, but boston wasn't kansas city, and it wasn’t the wilderness either. it’s true, FEDRA’s detained you a few times (and broken a couple ribs in the process), but you’ve finally made a home somewhere, and you don’t have anything real to chase elsewhere. 
you both knew, if Joel left, you wouldn’t be leaving with him.
you weren’t worried about him, not really. joel knew how to take care of himself. you didn’t need anything to change between the two of you. knew you’d be okay, ultimately. but it still hurt, thinking about him off across the country, and you know for a damn fact you’ll never know if he made it. if he’s still alive.
the whiskey had warmed you, and you found yourself right at the comfortable point of relaxed and careless. you didn't let yourself get like this often, prioritising alertness over comfort, but tonight felt like a special occasion. you wanted to get loose, flirt, dance, and interact with people. you stood up to make a move for the jukebox, but in your state, you managed to backhand the whiskey bottle the bartender was reaching to cork.
the bottle catapulted into the air and landed with a sickening crash on the floor, glass spraying, and whiskey spattered seemingly everywhere in a fifteen foot radius. a hush fell across the room as fucking everyone, apparently, turned to look at the loss of an irreplaceable twenty year old bottle.
the glare the bartender aims at you sobers you up real quick.
"you'd best be able to pay for that, sweetheart," the bartender hisses, and your stomach flips. you absolutely do not have enough ration cards to pay for it. you do have something else, though. the chatter in the speakeasy resumes, and you feel like you have a little more privacy.
aiming for sultry, you look the bartender up and down and bat your eyes, "i'm sure we can come to some sort of an arrangement," you coo, and the bartender swallows.
you lean forward and deftly undo the top button of his shirt.
"i'm a little short on cards right now," you admit, "but is there anything else i can offer you?"
you don't miss how his eyes glance over you, pausing for a moment as he stares at your tits. fucking typical, but a good sign you might be able to get away with it.
before you can try and seal the deal, though, you feel someone push up to the bar next to you and slam down a fistful of ration cards.
"that should take care of it," says a gruff voice, and you know it's joel.
the bartender, confused as ever, looks between the two of you, adjusts himself, pockets the money and shrugs. most folks knew better than to fuck with joel if it could be avoided. and then you felt his hand gripping your shoulder and wheeling you out of the building.
"joel-" you say, and he practically hisses in response.
"save it," he growls, and you fall silent.
he's walking you back to your apartment, you realise, and you're both thankful and absolutely infuriated. how dare he swoop in like that. you were dealing with the situation. you're allowed to be tipsy, you're allowed to do whatever you wanted, and quite frankly, joel had no right.
"i had it under control," you spit and he laughs.
"sure looked like it," he snorts, and there's not an ounce of humour in his voice.
"i would've figured it out-" you stammer, before he cuts you off, turning you to face him.
"is that how you usually get out of these situations? by fucking your way out of them?"
your stomach drops, but heat pools between your legs.
"that is none of your fuckin business, joel," you glare. he's not wrong, but you're not ashamed. it's kept you alive. you're not gonna feel guilty about that, especially not for someone who has no fucking right.
he goes quiet for a moment, and then starts pulling you along again. "i'm taking you home," he says, and you don't argue.
when you step through the door, you expect joel to deposit you and leave. he's been busy, planning this trip out west, you've barely seen him these past few weeks.
instead, though, he slams the door behind him, staring you down. you feel minuscule under his gaze.
"you're really gonna act this reckless, hmm? gettin drunk and careless."
"fuck you, joel." you spit back, but he keeps going.
"practically begging to fuck that guy cos you couldn't pay? if i hadn't found you-"
"wait-" you cut him off, "i'm sorry, you were looking for me?"
you'd thought it was just coincidence he'd been in the same place at the same time. suddenly, the fury he'd exuded changed and he looked almost sheepish.
"i'm leaving."
"i know."
"in the morning."
"oh."
and then it hits you.
"you wanted to say goodbye."
he stares for a moment, and then nods. the hostility between you dissolves in an instant, all of a sudden replaced by something more vulnerable, and then, for the first time, you hear joel miller sound nervous.
"i- i know we've been doing this... thing. for a while. and i just. i didn't want to just disappear. tried knocking on your door but you were out, so i went to find you. managed to catch the tail end of you smashing that bottle."
"yeah," you snort, "not my best moment."
"thought it was a long shot finding you there, never thought you were much for public intoxication."
"special occasion."
he stares you down, eyes practically glittering, and you buckle.
"you've been on my mind. i'm really gonna miss you, joel."
he cups a hand to your cheek. "i'm guessing your answer hasn't changed, but you're still welcome to come with us," he murmurs.
you smile sadly and shake your head. "i'm not cut out for another trip across the country. i'd slow you down."
he nods. considers.
"i know we've never defined this," you say, "and it doesn't need to mean anything other than what it is. but you've been a part of my life for a while now. and... you are significant to me."
it feels like a gamble, the closest to any truth you can state. it's not love. well, maybe it is? but not the kind where you need to spend your lives together, or even want to. you just want the moment to mean as much to joel as it does to you.
you half expect rejection, for him to leave you there and leave without another word but instead, joel lets out a little breath and steps a little bit closer. goosebumps spread along your spine and down your arms, and your stomach does a flip.
"one last night?" he asks.
you nod. "one last night."
whatever space had been between you is closed in an instant, joel pulling you in, tongues and teeth crashing together. in the blink of an eye, you find yourself pressed up against your front door with joel trailing kisses down your throat, a leg between yours, and you rut up against him.
"let me take care of you, baby," he hums, and you can feel that he's getting hard against you.
"please-"
he manoeuvres you around and you feel weightless in his arms, like a rag-doll, pliant. you know you're wet at this point, feeling suddenly slick and tingly. before you know it, you're ass is on your dining table and joel's unbuttoning your shirt, laving kisses along your jawline, down your throat. you try to savour every moment. his moustache along your collarbone. tongue hot as he licks down and between your breasts, occasionally stopping to nip or bite at your skin.
it feels like an eternity before he's pulled your shirt off of your shoulders, leaving you bare and open.
"so fucking beautiful," he whispers, his fingers now deftly undoing the button of your jeans, and his words sound like a prayer. he helps you lift your hips so he can pull your jeans down, leaving only your panties. he rubs a thumb over the fabric and feels the wetness that's been pooling between your legs and practically growls in response.
pulling your panties to the side, he starts stroking your cunt with his thick fingers. long, long strokes that make you shudder, before he dips a finger into your tight wet heat and hums. dips a little deeper and pulls it back out and takes a moment to admire the slick coating him.
"all this for me?" he asks, and you nod, breath hitching.
without prompting, you open your mouth and he smirks, pressing the digit between your lips and lets you suck your arousal off of it, licking his finger like you suck his cock and letting out an involuntary moan.
with his finger still in your mouth, he holds your chin and tilts you up to look right in his eyes.
"gonna make you feel good, now, baby," he coaxes, and you inhale sharply. "eyes on me, now, don't look away."
you watch him as he lets go of your chin and drops to his knees. he hooks your panties to the side with his thumb, pries your legs further open, and begins to consume you.
his tongue licks along you as he digs his nose into your clit. long strokes become deeper and you feel your pussy vibrate as he moans into you. "yes, joel, please-" you beg, and you grab a fistful of his hair, which only makes him moan louder. a moment later, he's sucking on your clit and fucking you with two thick fingers fingers and his other hand's grabbing at your ass and the sensation is overwhelming.
it feels so good, so fucking good. a few more flicks of his tongue and you know you're about to come undone. you give joel's hair a quick tug and he looks up at you with those stupid beautiful dark eyes and then you're coming on his tongue, waves of pleasure rippling through you, his name on your lips.
it takes you a minute to come down from it, and joel's still buried between your legs, licking the slick from your thighs and your folds, being careful not to overstimulate your sensitive, swollen clit.
"fuck, joel," you whisper, and he laughs, and the warmth of his breath on your thighs tickles and then you're laughing too. this was stress release you needed, and you can feel the tension slowly uncoiling from you.
you're silent for another moment before you pull him up and into a kiss. it feels odd, you being almost entirely naked and him entirely clothed. you realise he even has his boots on, still.
you stroke his cheek with your thumb and look at him, really look at him. you love every bit; the crinkles around his eyes, the age lines, the grey in his hair, the scar on his temple, the curve of his nose. even the patchiness of his beard. you're thankful for every bit of this.
"i think you should fuck me now," you tell him, and he doesn't need to be told twice.
he stands up, wraps your legs around his waist, and hoists you up and carries you to your bedroom, tossing you onto your bed. you sit up and grab him by the lapels, feeling arousal pulsing through you again already. "take this off," you say, tugging at his shirt, and a moment later he's pulling it over his head and fumbling with his belt.
then he's bare in front of you, and he is beautiful.
"wait," you say, holding out a hand to stop him before he joins you on the bed. "i just want to look at you for a moment."
he swallows, and then nods. it feels almost... precious?
you look down his body and you aren't shy. his freckled shoulders are broad, arms muscled. you trace a fingertip from the hollow of his throat down his chest. you pause a moment to lean forward and kiss the silvery scar on his abdomen, the one you patched up for him two years ago. you carry on, taking a moment to leave kisses along his tummy, appreciating the curve of softness over lean muscle.
and then you lean back and look at his thick cock, still half-hard, hanging between his legs. you are absolutely objectifying the man, and he grins.
"c'mon," he says, and then you're laying back and he's crawling up to you. he yanks your legs up over his shoulders and you hook your ankles around him. you love this feeling, him holding you. guiding you. feeling him press the fat head of his cock into you, how his brow furrows as he watches your face, adjusting to him. then he inches further, hips gliding till he's fully seated in your swollen pussy.
"fuck me, joel."
he does. the first strokes are slow, but without much warning, he's fucking into you roughly. you can feel yourself dripping and you're so wet he's sliding into you easily. his hips thrust harder and harder, and you're letting yourself slip into the absolute unadulterated euphoria.
"you love this cock, don't you-" he hisses between breaths, "love the way i fill you up and fuck you good"
"yes- yes, joel, fuckin love it-"
"you're gonna feel me for days," he grunts, keeping a steady rhythm.
(that was one of your favourite things, feeling his ache deep in your core for days after he'd ruined you. enjoying every bite mark, every bruise, every scratch and hickey.)
"fuck me deeper," you whisper.
"really, baby? think you can take that?"
it's not a real question, you've begged him to fuck you deep dozens of times before and you can always take it. but it's a much-needed ego boost for both of you.
you nod, and he wraps one arm around you to pull you up as he kneels upright, so your ass is in the air and only your shoulders make contact with the bed, with your ankles still hooked on his shoulders. another hand wraps around you, pinching at your nipples, grabbing at flesh, thumb trailing down to trace small circles around you clit.
he's seated so deeply in you now, you can feel him in your guts.
"god you feel so good around me." he pants out, and you can feel the way his hips start to stutter. "so fuckin soft, so fuckin wet, so fucking tight around me- god you tasted so good and you feel even better."
"love how you split me open, how you tear me apart, how you break me down and make me come again and again and again-"
it's all things you've said before, but there's more weight on it now. this is the last time. this is the last time.
finally, after another stutter of his hips, he folds over and pulls you close again, kisses you deeply and you're breathing into one another. he grinds against you just right and it rubs your clit so nice.
"fuck, joel- i- i'm gonna come again," you breathe, and he somehow fucks into you even deeper.
"come for me baby," he coaxes, and you do, waves of pleasure wash over you. you feel his balls tighten against you and he shudders as he pulses deep inside you.
you stay like that for a while, appreciating every drop of sweat, every inch of skin pressed together, the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.
before you can say anything, he nuzzles into your hair and lets out a soft moan.
"let me stay like this in you for a little bit," he whispers, and you hold him closer.
hours later, you're still holding each other close.
"would you want me to stay with you tonight, even if it means i won't be there in the morning?"
you think for a moment.
"no," you tell him, "i think that'd just be harder."
he nods. he understands completely.
eventually it's time for him to leave, and he draws you into his arms for one final embrace.
"you'll take care of yourself, won't you?" he asks.
"i'll take care of myself," you assure him.
a beat of silence.
"i-" you want to say it but you don't know how to. "i'm going to miss you. and i hope you find your brother."
"thank you baby" he murmurs.
"will you forget me?" you ask, and it comes out almost a sob. it's somehow the most intimate question you've ever asked him.
he smiles, sad but firm. "couldn't forget you if i tried. i'll always be thinking of you."
somehow that's exactly what you needed to know. it's comfort.
he kisses you deep and rough, and then draws back to put a chaste kiss on your forehead.
"you never know, you might see me again someday," he whispers, and if you didn't know better, you'd say his eyes looked almost like they were glinting with unshed tears.
"be safe joel," you say, and he gives your hand one last squeeze.
then he's out the door, and you're stood alone in your apartment.
but now you know.
you know this means as much to him as it does to you, and in this world, maybe that's enough.
*****
ok this got angstier than i'd intended, and honestly got away from me, but i'm finally dipping my toes back into fic after a long, long time~
edit: just added a title to it
186 notes · View notes